#do you guys like my fake cigarette

[grongleboy]

depressed bastard closet cosplay

[schizowitchic]

never leaving the house without makeup on actually because why did i get id'd for a FUCKING ENERGY DRINK today. like i am definitely over sixteen. i look over sixteen. do i only look over sixteen with makeup on? did that one tesco employee not like the look of me? every other employee is like "yeah let me just approve the age for you" and doesn't ask questions. this woman (who literally could not have been much older than me) apparently decides that today i do not look over sixteen. and the only difference is that i did not have foundation etc. on just eyeliner. so like. uh. what was going on there.

[madebycloud]

Ex at Christmas

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭���𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: christmas is just around the corner, and you've been invited to spend them with your ex-girlfriend's family. only one problem is that your ex-girlfriend has not told anyone that the relationship is over. (requested by anon)

warnings/themes: fluff and angst, found family af, fake dating, ex lovers, christmas, family gatherings, secret santa, everyone is alive and happy au, modern au vi just begging for you to take her back? words: 17.3k.... (i got carried away) notes: it's so long i should've cut it into parts but idk where... so suffer (╥﹏╥) — ✩ part one, part two

As always, the last drop is a lively spot. warm, cozy, and familiar. Colorful lights hang from the ceiling, a decorated tree stands in the corner, a 'merry christmas' painted on the wall, even a few strings of garland have been hung from the low ceiling.

People are crowding around the bar. Some are playing pool, some are simply chatting amongst themselves, cigarette smoke curling up toward the ceiling.

Vander's voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Look who finally showed her face around here.” He reaches over the top of the bar to ruffle your hair.

“I know, I know.” You laugh, swatting his hand away. “Things are just... busy, y'know?” 

Vander rests his forearms on the countertop, leaning closer to you. “Just making sure you're still alive. “Been an awful long while since I last saw you.”

“I've been fine, old man.” 

“Glad to hear you're doing alright kid. Haven't seen you around here in, what, three months? You need to come by more often, keep an old guy company.” He chuckles. “I almost thought you'd vanished.”

“You sound like a grandma with kids that never call.”

Vander grins and winks at you, taking a rag and wiping at the bartop. “You're like a kid to me, so I guess it checks out.”

You scoff but say nothing, leaning against the bartop as your eyes start to travel across the room. A few people mill about that you recognize as regular patrons, but other than that, there's pretty much no one of interest.

Vander snorts and lifts the rag to his shoulder. “We're having our christmas gathering again this year, you should swing by. Just like last christmas, eh?”

A lot has changed for you in the past month, and you've been dreading this coming up. “I... don't know. I don't think so.”

Vander raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don't know? Not up to seeing the old gang again?”

“Not exactly,” you murmur, the memory of the breakup is still fresh. It's not that you don't want to see your friends, it's just the idea of seeing Vi again. “It's not that, I just... things have changed, especially recently. I don't want to... accidentally make things awkward or something.”

Vander shakes his head and it almost seems like he's laughing at you. “Why would it be awkward?”

“I don't know…” You sigh, your shoulders slumping in resignation. “Nevermind it, I'm going.”

Your words get a smirk out of Vander, and he reaches over to poke your arm. “That's what I like to hear.” He gives you a wink, folding his arms across his chest. “You better show up or I'll drag you here myself. You know I could.”

“Like I'd let you drag me here, old man—there's no way your back can handle that.”

“Ah, you kids these days have no respect for your elders. You're gonna break my old back and then I'll die,” he pretends to sniffle, making you scoff.

Silco then walks over, looping his arms around Vander's shoulders. The two of them exchange a knowing glance before Silco turns his attention to you. “Look who actually decided to show up.”

Vander laughs as he pats Silco's arm. “Cut the kid some slack. They're just here to have a good time.”

Silco chuckles, his eyes still on you. “So are you coming on Christmas?”

You rub at the back of your neck, and just as you're about to answer, Vander beats you to it. “Yeah, she's coming,” he confirms.

Silco hums, he lifts his arm from off Vander, resting it in his hip instead. “Good, I was beginning to think you were going to weasel your way out of it.”

Vander smacks his shoulder. “Lay off, would ya? let the kid breathe.”

Silco relents and waves his hand dismissively. “I'm just saying.” He looks back at you. “We all want you there, you know. It wouldn't be the same without you.”

Hearing them say that makes you feel guilty for even considering not going. You know they mean it. You just hope it won't be too much awkward with Vi there.

Vander nods and smiles. “He's right, you know. Everyone's been asking about you. They'll be happy to have you there.”

“I get it. You don't have to butter me up, old man.”

Vander chuckles, then he glances over his shoulder, gesturing to a small, unassuming box on a nearby table. “Hey, could you grab that little box over there for me?” Silco smirks and nods before moving to get the box, bringing it over and handing it to Vander.

“What's in the box?” you ask.

Vander grins at you, holding the box in his hands. “We're doing a secret santa,” he explains, “and since you’re coming that means you're participating too.”

Your eyebrows raise to your hairline. You'd completely forgotten about the secret santa. You groan in annoyance, running your hands over your face. “I'm still annoyed I got that whoopee cushion from Powder last year.”

“That was a good one. She was so damn proud of herself too, and besides…” Vander pauses, turning to look at you. “You never know, you might get something less annoying this year.” He then holds the box out to you, a smile on his lips.

There's always the possibility you won't get something shitty, but knowing most of your friends... Yeah, that's unlikely.

You look at the box, then up at Vander. You take the box from him. “I hope you're right, old man.”

Vander chuckles before stepping back to talk to Silco.

You turn the box over in your hands, feeling the weight of it. It's not too heavy, and you feel compelled to shake it. But if you do that, you'll probably end up drawing Vander's name, and that's basically cheating.

Sighing, you decide to just bite the bullet. You take the lid off the box, sticking your hand inside. Your fingers rummage around before they eventually close around a folded piece of paper.

You pull out the slip of paper, unfolding it slowly. You glance at the handwriting, then almost roll your eyes.

Of course you got Vi.

Out of all the names you could have drawn, you get the one person you didn't want to get. You could have gotten literally anyone else. Mylo, Claggor, Powder, Silco, or anyone other than Vi. but no, you had to get your ex. Just your luck.

You look at the note again, and the first thought that comes to your mind is...

Well, crap.

You're so focused on the slip of paper in your hands that you don't notice Vander and Silco peeking over your shoulder.

“So, who'd you get?”

Vander's question makes you jump, you quickly stuff the paper into your pocket before they can see who it is.

“No one,” you say, waving your hand to dismiss the question. “It's not important.”

Silco raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you pocketing the paper?”

“It's a secret for a reason.”

Vander and Silco glance at each other, and you can tell they're silently communicating. 

Vander turns back to you a moment later, rubbing his jaw. “A secret, huh? Well, that means whoever you got won't know it's you.”

Silco hums. “That's probably a good thing.” 

“That's kind of the point of a secret Santa.”

Vander nods, scratches his beard before his lips turn up in a smile. “True means you can give them something real nice.”

Silco glances at Vander before looking at you. “Whoever you got is probably going to be very happy when they get their gift.”

You almost snort at Silco's words. Yeah, right. a gift from you? She’ll probably chuck it straight in the trash.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the thoughts of Vi out of your head. You don't know why you're worried about how she'll react. Why care if she'll like the gift? Why care if she's happy with whatever you get her?

The answer is so obvious, but you don't want to admit it even to yourself.

Vander and Silco are still looking at you, and you realize that you have to say something. Any longer and they might figure it out.

You push those thoughts away. “If they'll actually like it. I'm not the best with gifts.”

“Oh, I'm sure they will,” Silco says, a knowing smirk on his face.

Vander nods. “Just give them something from the heart.”

From the heart, my ass. The only thing you want to give her from the heart is a kick in the ass.

“Because someone's gonna be real happy with something from me.”

Vander and Silco exchange another look again, like they're having an entire conversation without actually saying anything.

You turn away from them, looking out the window. They're probably trying to read your mind, figure out who it is you got. The thought makes your eyes twitch. You don't want them to know. You don't know why, but you really don't want them to know.

“Just do us a favor,” Silco suddenly says, cutting into the silence that had fallen between you. “Try not to stress too hard about it. You'll give yourself gray hairs.”

Vander chuckles at Silco's words, “You'll give us an old heart attack.”

“Ha ha, funny.”

Silco grins at your response. “Well, we're only half-joking.”

Vander's eyes soften. He slaps Silco's shoulder to get him to shut up. “What he means is, you overthink too much,” Vander adds.

Yeah, so what if you overthink? It's a normal thing to do. Especially in situations like this, where you're stuck with the one person you don't want to be.

Why keep thinking about her? You need to stop obsessing over her. She made her choice, and it wasn't you.

You run your fingers to your face, trying to think of something else to distract yourself. It's not like you don't know what you want to get Vi. You just don't know if you should get it.

“I don't overthink,” you grumble, shifting your weight on your feet. 

“Oh yes, you do.”

And they're both right about that. You can't even count how many times you've paced around your apartment, replaying every interaction you had with Vi over and over again in your head. Every word, every touch, and every look. All of it, it's like your brain refuses to let you forget.

You've spent countless nights trying to figure out where you went wrong. What you could have done differently if there was something you could have changed. All of that, just because of one person who tossed you aside without a second thought.

“Listen,” Silco says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over at him as he stands up straight, a smirk spreads across his lips. “You're going to drive yourself crazy thinking about something that hasn't even happened yet.”

“He's right,” Vander gives you a look before continuing. “And for the love of God, stop overthinking.”

If only it were that simple. If only you could just switch off your brain and stop thinking about everything. But you know damn well you can't do that. Your thoughts are as uncontrollable as the weather, and right now, they're a mess.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your thoughts. “I should probably go,” you mutter, and the two men nod. 

Vander pats you on the back as you start for the door. “Same place, eh?’ he calls after you. 

“Don't think too hard, kid,” Silco adds.

You give them both a nod as you exit the bar, shutting the door behind you.

Christmas is going to be one hell of a mess this year, you can feel it.

Now all you have to do is figure out how the hell you're going to deal with it.

—

You're standing outside of Vander and Silco’s house, the weight of the present in your hands suddenly feeling a thousand times heavier.

You've replayed this moment in your head countless times, but now that it's happening for real, you're not sure if you're ready.

Christmas music drifts out of the house, it's a familiar tune that you've heard a million times.

You push down the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You shouldn't be feeling so nervous, it's just a gift. Just a present for a secret santa.

But this isn't just anyone, this is Vi. The one person who you didn't want to get. The one person who broke things off without a second thought.

Stop thinking about this. It's just one night. one stupid night, and then it will be over. You can get through this, you can handle being around Vi for one Christmas. No more thinking about her. No more wondering where you went wrong or if you could have done something to change things. Just get through the night and forget about her.

You take another deep breath, straighten up, and square your shoulders. Then, in one moment, you push open the doors to their house and walk inside.

Your eyes search the room, looking for that familiar pink hair. But you don't see her. Your shoulders relax a little. Maybe she's not here yet. That'll give you a few minutes to brace yourself. No one is around right now, probably in their rooms or preparing for the dinner. 

You were so distracted by looking around that you didn't realize someone was standing right behind you until they grabbed you and spun you around. Your eyes meet their powder blue ones, and your mouth suddenly goes dry.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Woah, hey-” you stumble over your words.

“Don't 'woah hey' me,” she snaps, her grip tightening on your arm.

Vander's deep voice cut in before you could even speak. “You've actually came.”

You feel her look away from you, her hand finally falling from your arm. As soon as it does, you rub the skin where she grabbed you.

Vander looks between the two of you and says, “Hand me the gift, kid. I'll put it there.” He gestures towards a christmas tree where the gifts are already sitting underneath.

You quickly hold the present out for him to take.

He takes it before giving both of you another look. “Go easy with your girlfriend, eh?”

You freeze, your heart stopping as his words register. Your eyes widen as you slowly turn your head to look at Vi.

Girlfriend?

“I will.” Before you can even process what's happening, you're being pulled outside.

You yank your arm back from Vi, quickly putting some distance between the two of you. “What's your problem?”

She spins around and scoffs, looking you up and down. “I should be asking you that. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Vander invited me. He asked me to come.”

“Then you should've said no.”

“Wow? just wow.” You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I know that things didn't go well between us, but you don't get to push me out of this family. They're my family too, and Vander invited me here to celebrate. I have as much right to be here as you do.”

You refuse to break eye contact with her. “You can ignore me all you want, but you don't get to decide how I'm allowed to spend my Christmas. If you want to keep acting like this, fine. Ignore me, pretend I don't exist, just like you've been doing for the past months.”

Vi lets out a laugh, rubbing a hand on her forehead. “They do not know.”

You blink at her. “What do you mean?”

She looks over at the entrance and says, “They all think we're still together.”

Your eyes widen. “What?” you almost shout. “Why the hell would they think that?” “Because I didn't tell them.” She scoffs. “Every time I talk to them, they ask me how you are. Silco and Vander keep making comments about how we make a cute couple. They still think we're together.”

“Why the hell didn't you tell them?” You glare at her. “Were you ever going to?”

“I don't know,” she retorts, throwing her arms up. “They're all so happy about us being together.”

“That's such bullshit,” you snap at her. “That's such a crappy excuse! You should be the one to tell them we broke up.”

She looks away, planting her arm on her hips. “Don't you think I know that?” she shoots back. “It's not that simple. I can't just rip off the bandage like that.”

“Is that it? You’re scared that they'll know?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know how Silco and Vander can get.”

“I know how they get,” you snap back at her. “You're just too much of a pussycat to face them and tell them the truth.”

Her expression hardens, and her jaw clenches. “Look who's talking. You can't even say no to a little family gathering, but here you are.”

“I didn't come here because I wanted to see you. I came for the family, not for you.”

“As if I wanted to see you either. The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with you all night.”

“Fine, you know what? I'll go tell them right now that we broke up. They deserve to know.”

She grabs your wrist before you can take a step towards the door. “Wait”

You look down at her hand, then back up at her. “What?”

“Don't,” she says through gritted teeth. “Just... don't tell them yet.”

You scoff, ripping your arm away from her grip. “Why the hell not? So they can keep thinking we're still together?”

“Just don't tell them tonight. Can you just give me until after Christmas?”

“Why are you still dragging this out? What difference does it make if we wait till then or do it now?”

“Because it's fucking Christmas!” she snaps before dropping her gaze. “Look, it's the holidays. I just... I don't want to ruin Christmas. They've all been looking forward to all of us celebrating together. I don't want to ruin it by spoiling the fun.”

“Wait—let me get this straight. You want to fake it this christmas? Pretend we're still a happy couple?”

She's quiet again. “Yeah,” she whispers, looking down. “Yeah, that's what I'm asking.”

“You're unbelievable, Vi.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself together. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You're asking me to pretend like we're still together, to pretend that nothing has changed.”

“It's just one day,” she mumbles. “One day, that's all I'm asking for. We can tell them anytime after that, just not tonight, please.”

She even says please. Something about the way she says it makes your heart ache. She looks desperate, like this really means something to her. Who are you kidding? Of course, this means something to her. 

They're her family, they're important to her. And on Christmas, all they want is for everything to be perfect. perfect food, perfect presents, and perfect couples.

You hate the way she's looking at you with those soft, pleading eyes. She always looks at you like that when she wants something, and you always give in. She does it subconsciously, knowing how to get exactly what she wants. And damn it, it works.

“Fine,” you mutter. “You've got your damned wish.”

And there it is. There's the look you've been waiting for. That look of relief that comes to her eyes.

You hate that look. You hate how your heart flutters when she looks like that. You hate it so much. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you've got me for tonight. I'll pretend like we're still together. Happy now?”

There's a flicker of a smile on her face, something quick that's gone before you can even register. “Yeah, thank you.”

She looks away again. Silence falls between the two of you as you shift awkwardly.

This is gonna be a long night.

You sigh, watching as she keeps her focus on the floor. This is so damn awkward.

And it's your own fault for agreeing to this nonsense. There's no way this night doesn't end up being a goddamn catastrophe. You would give anything to just disappear right now.

Powder's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Peeking her head out of the doorway, looking at the two of you. “Hey, you two. It's cold out there, get your asses in here.”

You look at Vi, waiting for a sign of acknowledgment.

She slowly glances up, her gaze meeting yours. “Come on,” she murmurs, holding out her hand.

Taking a deep breath, you take her hand in yours.

You've held her hand so many times before—more times than you can count. Holding her hand used to be nothing, but now it feels so odd. So awkward.

But she doesn't seem to notice how out of place it feels. She slowly leads you towards the door, squeezing your hand as she pulls you along.

“How are my favorite love birds doing?” Mylo's voice greets you as you both enter.

He slings a casual arm over your shoulders, leaning on your shoulder to get a better look at you. “It's about time you two showed up. I thought for sure you were just gonna keep making out in a corner somewhere.”

It takes everything you have not to elbow him in the stomach. Instead, you keep a neutral expression and chuckle awkwardly, “Yeah, you know us. Can't keep our hands off of each other.”

“You two are sickeningly in love, it's really cute, actually.”

Your eye twitches, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah, we're very in love,” Vi says, and you can tell she's trying not to roll her eyes.

Mylo claps you on the shoulder before releasing you. “Well then, I'm going to go find myself some eggnog.” He leaves towards the kitchen, whistling to himself as he goes.

You turn to look at Vi, and you almost feel a twinge of hatred towards the way she so casually holds your hand, like nothing is wrong.

“Are you okay?”

Her voice brings you back to reality, and suddenly you're all too aware of how hard you're clenching your jaw and the fact that you're basically just glowering at the floor with a storm cloud over your head.

You raise your eyes to meet with hers, and you have to force yourself to release some of the tension. “Yeah, fine,” you mutter. “just cold”

It's a lie, obviously. It's not cold at all. Vander always keeps the place nice and warm.

Not even she's dumb enough to fall for that. She glances around, clearly noticing how you're not really hiding your feelings well.

She runs her thumb over the back of your hand. It's an innocent gesture, one that you've seen dozens of times before. It's not meant to be anything special, it never was. And yet, it still makes your heart skip a beat. 

You have absolutely no idea how you're going to get through this night with both your sanity and your heart still intact.

“Okay,” she finally says, “can you stop clenching your jaw so hard? you look like you're trying to grind your teeth down to the bone. I know this isn't the ideal situation, but please don't go around looking like you want to kill everyone in this room.”

Her fingers squeeze your hand, and you realize just how tightly you're holding her hand in yours. Your knuckles are white, and your fingers are probably digging into her skin.

Gritting your teeth, you loosen your grip. 

“There, that's better… please try and just relax for a bit. This is going to be hellish already, so I at least need you to not look like you hate me every second we're in here.”

You look away from her. “Please don't act like you care.”

“I'm not acting like I care,” she says, a tone just loud enough for only you to hear. “I do care, and that's the problem.”

Of course she has to say something like that right now. Of course she has to hit where it hurts the most.

Care? care about what? about you? about what she put you through, how she broke your heart?

You open your mouth, but your response dies in your throat. You have no idea how to respond to that.

A loud shout interrupts your thoughts, and you both turn around. “Oi! Time for dinner!” Powder yells from the doorway into the kitchen.

Vi mutters under her breath, “finally.”

Powder grins as she waves you both over. “Hurry up or Vander will eat everything and complain about his bad back afterwards.”

“We're coming,” Vi calls back.

The two of you head towards the kitchen. There's a long table in the middle of the room, covered in a red and green tablecloth. Everyone is already crowded around the table, taking their seats as you two enter the room. Vander is at the head of one of the tables, Silco seated beside him. Mylo and Claggor are chatting amongst themselves as Powder takes her seat beside Claggor.

Vi looks at the seating arrangement and sighs, realizing what's about to happen. She pulls you over to the table and sits down, pulling you down into the seat right next to her.

After a few moments, everyone quiets down and turns their attention to Silco.

Silco places his hands together. “It's good to see everyone together like this today. I am thankful that we are all here, safe and healthy.” He glances around the room in a quick survey, seeming to count everyone's attendance. “And what better time to be together than the holidays?”

Powder huffs. “Can we just eat? I'm starving.” 

Silco raises his hand for Powder to stay quiet. “Patience, Pow. First, let's do something a bit… different.”

Mylo and Claggor glance at each other in confusion. “Different?” Mylo repeats.

“Indeed,” Silco replies. “Instead of just diving into our meal, I thought it would be nice if we all took a moment to share a few words about what we are thankful for this year.”

“We're really gonna do this?”

Claggor nudges him. “Be polite, Mylo.”

“He's right, though,” Powder chimes in.

Silco raises an eyebrow at them both. “Is it really such a hassle to express gratitude at the end of the year?”

Mylo and Powder grumble something under their breaths.

Claggor is the first one to respond. “I think it's a fine idea.”

“Thank you, Claggor,” Silco replies, “I'm glad we have at least one cooperative person here.”

After a moment of silence, Vander speaks. “Alright, then I'll go first... I am grateful for my family,” he says as he looks around the room. “I am thankful for my health, for my business, and most of all, that everyone is still here with me and safe.”

“That's so soft,” Powder says, but everyone ignores her.

Vander turns his head and looks directly at Silco, as if he's saying something that's meant to be for Silco's ears only, though everyone can clearly hear. “I'm also thankful for you, Sil,” he adds, the corner of his mouth twitching in a knowing smile.

You're not sure if you're the only one who noticed, but that comment definitely seemed personal and almost a little out of place.

He collects himself quickly and nods at Vander, seemingly not quite sure of what to say. “Thank you, Vander.” 

Silco clears his throat and composes himself, turning his gaze to Powder. “How about you, Pow? Any words of gratitude?”

Powder groans, slouching back in her seat like a child who's been forced to eat her vegetables. “I swear, if you make me say something corny-”

Mylo leans over the table to look at her sister. “Say something nice for once, or you're not getting dessert.”

“Ugh, fine. I am thankful for…” She looks around the room, taking in everyone's faces. “I'm thankful everyone's here and we're all... whatever, happy and healthy or something like that,” she mumbles.

“I'll take whatever I can get,” Silco mutters before turning his attention to Claggor. “What about you, Claggor?”

Claggor seems to be taking a moment to think, like he's actually putting effort into what he will say. “I'm grateful for…” His eyes are almost unfocused as he thinks. After a moment, he glances up to look at Vander. “I'm grateful for the family I have here.”

Vander gives him a warm look in response.

Everyone's gaze turns to Mylo, expecting him to go next.

He fidgets anxiously, shifting in his seat as he glances around the room. “What am I supposed to say?...er, fine... My whole life's a mess, but...at least all you idiots are here to make my life more miserable.”

“We love you too, Mylo” Powder teases. “Real touching. I think I might cry.”

Mylo throws a glare in her direction. “Shut up.”

Silco glances at Vi, his gaze lingering as he waits for Vi to speak.

“I'm thankful for…” Her voice is quieter than usual, more hesitant. She glances at you before continuing. “I'm... thankful for the people I have in my life.”

Everyone's gaze settles on you next, waiting for you to say something. “Well, I... I guess I'm thankful to be able to still participate in this family gathering, even if I haven't seen everyone in a while.” You take a look at Vi before moving on. “Hopefully I can still be here and spend Christmas with all of you next year too.”

She holds your gaze for a moment, almost as if she's processing what you just said… and then, unexpectedly, a smile forms at the corner of her lips.

It's a subtle change, barely noticeable, but you see it. and just seeing her smile, even a small one like that, has butterflies filling your stomach. It's been so long since you've seen her smile like that. A part of you misses it, a part of you yearns to see it more often.

She quickly looks away, and you notice that her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink.

“There, we all said our little cheesy bullshit,” Powder says, clearly getting impatient.

Silco turns to Powder, his expression disapproving. “Language, Pow,” he reminds. 

Vander sighs. “Yes, Powder, mind your language” he adds, earning a mock-offended look from Powder.

“Like you don't swear all the time.”

“I do not swear all the time, Pow,” he protests, although you know it's a lie. Even the most proper and upstanding people swear, and Vander is definitely not that.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Vander huffs but chooses not to add anything. Silco lets out a dry cough to redirect everyone's attention. “Right, now that that's over, let's go ahead and eat, shall we?” Silco says, as if the whole moment of gratitude never happened..

“Finally,” Mylo grumbles, “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about why we all gathered here.”

Silco gives him a look. “Patience is a virtue, Mylo.”

“We've all been patient for the last hour, so spare me.”

Claggor sighs, but thankfully Mylo and Powder seem to settle into silence for the time being.

Silco nods in approval. “Then, shall we begin?”

Vander gets up from his seat, moving to go grab the food.

Powder and Mylo look at Vander expectantly, and they both look like they're about to get out of their seats. Silco gives them a warning look, silencing them before they can get a word out. “Wait until everything is ready.”

They both grumble, but they obediently sit back down. They're impatient, sure, but they at least know better than to piss off Silco.

Vander returns a moment later, setting a platter filled with food on the table. It looks delicious, and the smell is mouthwatering. Your stomach growls a little, reminding you of how hungry you are.

Powder and Mylo are practically drooling, and you honestly wouldn't be surprised if they lunged for the food the moment Silco gave the word.

Thankfully, he doesn't give them any chance. He simply says, “Please, help yourselves,” and Silco has to gesture for them to wait.

They almost get up and move to the table, and they're clearly resisting the temptation to shove each other to try and get to the food faster.

Mylo lets out a curse, and Jinx giggles in response. Vi stands up and grabs both of them, grabbing onto their shoulders and holding them back from each other.

“Enough, you two,” she scolds, “there's plenty of food for everyone. Chill out.”

They look at her with expressions that clearly are saying, 'no, we're hungry'. Powder lets out a huff, and Mylo looks like he's one more remark away from shoving her sister.

Vi's expression sharpens, her eyes boring into Mylo and Powder. “No, quit the bullshit, you can wait a few minutes, and if you two can't act like adults about it, neither of you are getting any.”

Mylo immediately shuts up at that, his expression turning more guilty. Powder just looks like she's about to protest, a pout forming on her face. Vi glares at Powder to shush her as well.

“Just quit it,” she says. “You can wait, the food will taste better if you don't shove it all down your throats like dogs.”

“Fine, we'll wait,” she grumbles.

Mylo just nods with a pout, staying quiet.

Vi seems to notice their looks, and she rolls her eyes, staying put just in case. She seems wary as she watches Powder and Mylo, her eyes switching from them to the food on the table.

And sure enough, the moment Silco gestures for everyone to get their food, Powder and Mylo are gone, rushing to claim their plates.

Powder and Mylo shove each other for their own plates. No one says anything though, they're all just used to it. This is just how Powder and Mylo are, and they've come to accept it. Vi doesn't even seem as bothered as everyone else does. 

Mylo seems like he's really close to just pushing Powder to the side and snatching up the slice he wants, and Powder doesn't look any better. Honestly, if Vi didn't step in, there was a chance they'd start throwing punches.

And judging from how the others' looks, especially Silco, they look like they're expecting this. 

It's like this is all completely normal, they know to expect this kind of behavior when food, and more importantly, free food, is involved.

Powder and Mylo finally settle down after their little fight, and they finally begin digging into the food.

Mylo is practically shoving it into his face, eating it like he's been starved for weeks. Powder isn't any better, although at least she's not making a complete mess.

Claggor is significantly slower when it comes to eating, choosing to take his time as he slowly eats as opposed to just shoving the food into his mouth.

Vander eats at a decent pace, and he doesn't seem as starving like Mylo is.

The last one to begin eating is Silco, and surprisingly, there's a smile on his face. He takes one look at how Mylo and Powder are chowing down on their food, then he turns his gaze and looks at you, as if silently asking if you're going to eat.

You take the hint, and you decide to dig into your own food. The food is delicious, and you can't blame Mylo and Powder for basically trying to swallow their food whole.

Vi also begins eating now that everyone's settled down.

Vander laughs, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Slow down a little, you two, the food isn't going anywhere.”

Mylo and Powder both raise their heads at that, and they both look like they're considering it for a moment... but they immediately go back to shoving food down their throats.

Claggor shakes his head as he watches them eat. “You'd think they'd never seen a Christmas dinner before.”

“You know them, they would scarf down all the food in town if they could.”

Powder glances up at that, a small pout forming on her lips. “Hey, it's not our fault we're just starving.”

Mylo nods in agreement, his mouth too full to say anything.

“You both just had eaten before this,” Claggor counters.

Mylo swallows whatever food is in his mouth long enough to argue with Claggor. “And that was hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Powder agrees, “it was practically an eternity since we ate.”

“Two hours is not an eternity,” Claggor retorts. 

“It might as well be,” Powder counters.

Despite the bickering and arguing the dinner feels oddly... domestic, almost.

Claggor looks like the responsible and mature oldest sibling who's done with his siblings nonsense, Vander almost acts like a tired parent, Silco acts more like a stern aunt, and Powder and Mylo act like rowdy kids who are constantly at each other's throats.

Vi sits next to you. She's making sarcastic comments with Silco, laughing at Powder's jokes, and making small talk with Claggor. She even gives Mylo an unimpressed glare when he tries to snatch all the bread for himself.

It's like you're both back to normal. The way she's acting makes your heart ache. She's giving you all the attention a partner would give.

She gives you fond smiles whenever you make a comment, she casually slides an arm around your shoulders, she even scoots her chair a little closer to yours.

Her eyes are soft, her voice is soft, whenever you look at her, she looks back with this affectionate look.

It's so normal, that it almost takes you back to your relationship and how you two were before the breakup.

She's even doing little things, like leaning closer to you, letting a hand rest on your thigh, even discreetly grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with hers under the table.

You want to hold her tight and never let her go, but your brain keeps reminding you. You two aren't together anymore.

But when you look at her, when she looks at you with that look in her eyes, everything goes quiet. 

Maybe it could work this time.

Maybe you two could just bury the hatchet and move on.

Maybe things could work between you two if you try it out again.

Then you remember the fights, the nights you spent on your bed, crying while Vi was out with friends. You remember how she treated you after the breakup—how she tossed you aside like discarded trash.

You try to ignore it, push it to the back of your head. But it's so hard when Vi sits next to you, close enough for you to catch the scent of her perfume. She smells like cigarettes and leather, something that's so her.

You're so focused on trying to stop yourself from touching her or even getting closer that you're almost surprised when she suddenly leans her head against your shoulder.

She doesn't say anything, just leans against you. She's pressed against your side, her shoulder against your shoulder, her head against yours, her hand on your thigh.

You notice her scent again, now stronger.

Her hair brushes against your neck, the way you can feel the warmth of her body, and the way her thumb draws little circles into your thigh.

She's so close, and yet you want her even closer.

You want to run your hands through her hair, you want to nuzzle your face into her shoulder, you want to feel her hands roaming your body.

You just want her.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Powder, her question pulling you out of your head. “It's been a while since we've seen you two together,” she says, her mouth still full of food.

Claggor shoots Powder a look. “Powder-”

“Shush, I'm just wondering,” she argues, shrugging casually, “has she been avoiding you?”

“No,” you say before anyone can say anything. “We just... haven't had time to schedule any dates, that's all.”

“For months? Haven't had time to schedule a single date for months?”

“Life gets busy, y'know,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

Mylo scoffs at that. “You two are dating, the least you could do is at least manage one date a month.”

Claggor smacks him over the head. Mylo grumbles and rubs the back of his head, shooting his brother a glare. “What? it's true,” he mutters. “We just kind of... we all miss you.”

Vander gives Mylo a disapproving glare. “What Mylo means is, your presence has been sorely missed around here.”

“We all just... we just want you around more,” Powder puts in her two cents, speaking around a mouthful of food again.

You cast a sidelong glance at Vi. You and her are putting up a pretty good facade so far, but Mylo's question seemed to have put her on the spot a little. She catches your glance, and you give her a look that says, just play along. Vi sighs, her hand squeezing your thigh.

“Look, I-” She glances around the table, meeting everyone's eyes before sighing and putting on the most believable expression. “I know we haven't been as... present as we should have been for the past few months. Work just got really hectic.”

“That's true,” you back her up with a nod. “I had to travel away for a business trip a few weeks ago, so it's been pretty hard to find time to spend together.”

Vander, Silco, and Powder all nod in understanding. They're aware of the fact that you have a job in a big city, so it's not an unbelievable explanation.

Mylo, however, snorts and crosses his arms. “You don't have to feed us some lame excuse for not hanging out with us.”

Claggor gives Mylo another smack. “Would you shut up already?”

“Ow!” Mylo grumbles as he rubs his head again, shooting Claggor a dirty look.

Vander sighs. “Regardless, it's good to have you here for Christmas this time.”

Everyone nods and agrees. Powder grins at you, Silco shoots you a small almost-smile, and Claggor and Vander both look genuinely pleased to have you here.

All eyes then land on Mylo, and he shrugs again, mumbling, “I guess it is good to have you here.”

“See, it's a christmas miracle, Mylo isn't being a little prick for once,” Powder teases.

Mylo scowls at her. “Hey, I'm never a little prick-”

“Bullshit.”

Mylo just grumbles again, his eyes narrowing at Powder. “I just think that-”

“Nobody cares what you think,” Powder interrupts again.

That just causes Claggor, Vander, and Silco to laugh. Vi snorts next to you, squeezing your thigh.

The conversation soon changes to talking about old childhood holiday memories.

Mylo tells a story about him stealing Silco's secret chocolate stash when he was twelve. Silco scowls at the memory, but there's a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Powder tells a story about the time she accidentally burned the back of Vander's hair with a roman candle. Vander laughs and shakes his head at the memory.

At some point, Claggor chimes in to tell a story about a time he and Mylo accidentally broke a window during a snowball fight. Even Mylo himself laughs at that one.

There's lighthearted banter, friendly jabs, and just a lot of laughter in between. This, this is what it should have been like from the beginning. It reminds you of the way it used to be when you were all younger, but still has a different air to it. In a way, it's almost better than those old days. Everyone's grown, but there's still that same energy that always connected you all as a family... it just feels fuller.

You don't know if it's just the christmas lights playing tricks on your mind, but you swear you can see the faintest tearful sheen in Vander's eyes. He's always had a bit of parental pride and love toward all of you, but seeing you all sitting here together, happy... damn, it must bring back a lot of memories for him.

Silco even looks less grumpy than usual, his mouth twisting into a barely visible smile as the rest of the table continues talking. Yeah, this is how christmas should be…

It almost makes you forget that all of this is fake, almost makes you forget why you and Vi aren't together anymore. It's almost like just for tonight, you can pretend like things are back to how they used to be.

But you know this will not last. When everything is said and done, when christmas night is over and you're all saying your goodbyes, you have no doubt in your mind that you and Vi will go your separate ways again.

You glance at her, taking in the sight of her laughing with the rest. Her eyes are bright, her smile is big, and her entire face lights up with joy. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your heart to quiet. 

Vi must notice you looking, because she glances over at you. She's looking at you with that look again. You recognize it so easily.

That look... that damn look she's giving you again. The look that makes your heart stutter against your ribs, the look that makes your stomach twist into knots. It's a look that almost makes you want to lean forward and kiss her.

You almost give into your urges. You almost reach out and push a stray strand of hair out of her face, you almost do something to kiss her, almost.

But you don't, you can't. That would spoil the whole 'still dating' facade, and besides.... you have boundaries.

You give her a nod, offering a small smile, and you swear that you see disappointment flash across her eyes.

She looks like she wants to say something, her hand tightening over your knee again, but she seems to change her mind and just smiles back.

Maybe it's just a figment of your own imagination, you think to yourself. Maybe it was a trick of the light or something.

Claggor reaches over to grab something from the middle of the table, and Silco clears his throat. “How about you two?” he says it casually, like he's just making small talk, but there's a hint of concern in his voice. “Any... any problems between the two of you lately?”

You and Vi both sit up straighter. “Problems...?” Vi repeats.

Silco just shrugs, playing it casual. “I don't know, I'm just wondering... a lot of couples who have been together for as long as the two of you have.” He trails off, but everyone at the table knows the implications.

Mylo grumbles. “I swear, if you start talking about how high the divorce rate is—” Claggor elbows Mylo, and he shuts up.

Silco just chuckles. “Oh, I'm sure you two can last.”

Powder rolls her eyes. “These two have been together since forever. You guys were like... practically attached at the hip, from day one.”

“Yeah, we were like that, weren't we?” Vi looks back at you.

“Yeah,” you say with a casualness you don't feel. “Yeah, we were.”

Silco hums. “I remember when you two first started dating.”

“Oh, do you remember that?” Vander says, looking at Silco. “I remember the two of them coming to me the day they decided they were going to be official.”

Claggor nods. “Yeah, and they were so... so mushy. All 'you're mine' and 'we're never going to break up,” he puts on a mock high-pitched voice, imitating you and Vi

“That was the worst,” Powder groans, shoving food into her mouth.

Mylo grins and elbows Claggor. “How many times did you have to stop them from making out all over the bar again?”

“Way too many times.”

“By the way,” Mylo says. “You two aren't doing anything for new years, are you?”

You and Vi exchange glances. “...we haven't made plans yet,” you say slowly, trying to think of excuses.

“Oh, you should come join us then,” Mylo says, leaning back and stretching his arms. “All of us are getting hammered down here for new years, you two should come.”

“Yeah, it'll be fun!” Powder pipes up, eyes lighting up. “You guys will come, won't you? promise you'll come.”

You open your mouth, trying to wrack your brain for excuses, but before you can say anything-

“Of course we'll come.”

You turn to look at Vi, and she just gives you a shrug.

Mylo grins. “Good, good! That'll be fun.” He sits up and points a finger at you both. “I swear, the two of you used to be so much fun at parties, it's like you both went boring when you got older.”

“Hey, just cause we're getting old doesn't mean we suddenly became party poopers,” Vi says defensively. “We're still fun.”

Mylo cackles. “Are you now? I never see you two do anything anymore.” He leans back in his seat. “Ever since you got that fancy shmancy job, you've been too busy to have any fun.”

“We know how to have fun, we have—” you pause, trying to think of the word, “responsibilities now. Responsibilities that a certain someone is too dumb to understand.”

“I understand responsibilities, but I understand the concept that if you don't get wasted while you're young, then you'll wake up at forty, old and boring,” he says, looking at Silco and Vander. “And I want to make the most out of my young and reckless years. Meanwhile, you've already turned into an old, boring fart.”

You scowl at that, but Silco interrupts before you can respond. “Don't knock on old farts just yet. Some of us are old and still know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” Vander chimes in, nodding his head. “Just because we're old doesn't mean we don't know how to have a good time.”

Mylo rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, you old farts can still have fun. You just don't know how to have real fun anymore.” Mylo then pouts. “I just... I miss how it used to be, you know?” He sighs, resting his chin in his hand. “Before all that adult crap, when things were easier.”

“Easier,” Powder mutters, poking at the remains of her food. “Yeah, when we were broke and always hungry, real easy.”

Mylo reaches over and flicks her arm. “Easy doesn't always mean money, you dumbass.”

Powder scowls and smacks his arm back. “Don't call me a dumbass, you dumbass.”

“Then don't be a dumbass,” Mylo snaps back, smacking her again.

Powder smacks him again, harder. “Don't you dare call me a dumbass again.”

Before they can start another childish argument, Silco's voice cuts in. “Enough you two," he says, and they immediately grumble and fall quiet.

“Honestly, I sometimes wonder how the two of you aren't still in high school,” Vander says.

“That's an insult to high schoolers, they're more mature than those two,” Claggor jokes, earning him a smack to the head from both Powder and Mylo.

He yells and puts his hands up in surrender, “ow ow ow, ok ok! don't hurt me!”

Jinx and Mylo laugh, while Silco shakes his head. “See what I mean? Children.”

“And they both insist they're mature enough to be out in the real world, independent and capable,” Vander says, and Silco chuckles.

“They're still just as chaotic now as they were in high school,” Silco says dryly. “Nothing has changed.”

Powder and Mylo both glare at him. “Really? like you two were that much better in high school,” she grumbles.

Silco raises an eyebrow at that. “We certainly weren't as immature as some people,” he says pointedly.

“You guys were probably just as bad as us, you just don't remember."

There's a pause, and Silco and Vander exchange glances before Silco snorts. He tries to bite back a laugh, but it comes out anyway, causing Vander to burst out laughing as well.

“I can't-” Vander wheezes between laughs. “I can't believe... you actually…”

Silco doubles over, laughing even harder. After a moment, he manages to gasp out a few words. “Oh, if you only... if you only knew…”

Powder and Mylo exchange confused glances, while Claggor tilts his head. “What? what happened? what's so funny?”

The laughter finally dies down as Silco composes himself enough to speak. “Nothing, it's nothing,” he says, waving a hand.

“All right, all right,” Vander looks around the table. “I think most of us are done eating. Who wants to help with the dishes?”

There's a collective groan from the rest of the table. No one likes doing dishes.

Powder and Mylo immediately groan out a “not it,” and Claggor follows up with “You all know I'm terrible at dishes-”

“Don't look at me either,” Silco grumbles. Vander just sighs and shakes his head.

and that just leaves you and Vi... great, just great.

You're about to argue as well, anything to get out of being stuck in the kitchen with Vi, but she beats you to it. “Yeah, we'll do it,” she says, before you can even open your mouth.

“Oh, I-” you pause for a moment. You had been fully intending to dodge the chore, but now you can't without looking like an ass and leaving her alone to do dishes.

Vi stands up and picks up the nearest stack of dirty dishes, balancing them on her arms as she turns to you. She shoots you a look, like she's daring you to try and weasel out of helping.

You get the hint, shaking your head and standing up. This is absolutely the last thing you want to do right now.

You follow her to the kitchen, grabbing a few more dishes along the way.

She holds the kitchen door open for you, and you step into the little kitchen with its small stone countertops and simple appliances. You set the dishes down on the counter near the sink, turning to find Vi already rolling up her sleeves.

She's not looking at you, but when she starts to roll up the left side of her shirt sleeve, you swear you can see her eyes dart over to you for a split second.

You pause, staring at the side of her face. You can't tell if she's... no, you must be imagining things. 

She clears her throat, raising one eyebrow. “What, you're not gonna help?”

“No, no, I am,” you hurriedly say.

You're not going to look at her. Not at the way her forearm flexes when she reaches down to turn on the water, not at the way she bends over to grab some dish soap, and definitely not at the way her shirt tightens across her shoulders.

Yeah, you're definitely not going to look at her. Not at the way her fingers move when she soaps up the dishes, not the way her biceps flex when she bends her elbow, and especially not at the way her hair falls into her face when she scrubs at a stubborn stain.

Why is she so fit?

You look down at your own hands, watching the water and soap bubble up between your fingers. You start washing another dish, trying your absolute hardest to look anywhere except at her.

The minutes tick by in awkward silence, but eventually, your mind starts to wander. After all, washing dishes is pretty damn boring.

You glance over at her again, out of the corner of your eye, watching the way her shoulder blades shift under her shirt. The fabric of her shirt is stretched taut against her shoulders, and you wonder what she looks like under it if she still has all the same muscles....

Yeah, okay, you really have to stop staring at her.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Well, so much for not looking at her. Your head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and you force yourself to just focus on scrubbing at the glass in your hands. 

“Depends what the question is,” you grumble, shifting a little.

You expect her to ask you something about your current life or something generic. What happened when you were gone, what life was like where you were?

Instead, she asks something completely left-field.

“Do you ever think about us?”

You tense up, the glass in your hands slipping a little in your grip. You were not expecting that question. Hell no, you were literally not expecting that question.

How are you supposed to answer that? yes? no? sometimes?

What was she even expecting to hear? did she want you to say yes, to say that you always thought about her, that you would've come back to her in a heartbeat if you could've? or did she just want to hear you say no, to hear that you moved on, that you had to move on because it was either that or let yourself fall apart?

‘Sometimes’ was definitely not the answer you would've given months ago.

Now, though? you would admit that sometimes, after a rough morning or a particularly lonely night, you'd let yourself think about her. You'd remember those nights you spent in her apartment, on her shitty couch, talking her ear off about everything and nothing, the nights where the two of you would sit on the couch and watch tv, her head resting on your shoulder, and you'd wonder if maybe... just maybe..

You wonder if she thinks about that kind of stuff too, if you cross her mind late at night when she's alone. You wonder if she still thinks about the nights where you would stay in bed together, talking for hours after a particularly good round, your head resting on her chest as she played with your hair, or the mornings where you'd wake up and find her making breakfast for you.

Yeah, you thought about her a lot.

But you couldn't say that to her. You can't tell her that you think about it all the time, about how sometimes you can't fall asleep because you miss the feeling of laying in bed with her, about how you always find your hands searching for her in the middle of the night. No, you absolutely cannot tell her that, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“I used to,” you say instead of letting your thoughts wander any farther. “Not anymore.”

You keep scrubbing, even after there's no longer any more dirt on the glass. Just so you have a reason not to look at her, just so you have a shield from the thoughts you know are brewing in her mind.

She's quiet, and you can feel her looking at you. Looking at you, reading you, trying to figure out if you're telling the truth or not.

After a few moments, she takes a breath like she's going to speak, but then stops herself. It's something you're all too familiar with. She's overthinking something, that much is obvious. She's trying to pick her words carefully, and damn, you just wish she'd spit it out.

The silence feels like it's been going on for a year, but really, it was only around a minute. Your knuckles are turning white from how tightly you're gripping the glass you're washing, and your shoulders are beginning to ache from how tense you are.

“What about you?” you murmur. “Do you... do you think about us?” You force yourself to look over at her, and you instantly wish you hadn't.

She's not looking at you now, she's not watching you suspiciously or anything like that. No, instead she's looking down, staring at the soapy water, and avoiding eye contact with you.

She's quiet for a second, her hands pausing in their scrubbing. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I do.”

Her answer goes straight to your gut and twists deep inside you. You were absolutely expecting a solid “no”, hell, you were even preparing yourself for a cruel “god, no.”

Anything, anything other than “I do.”

She continues scrubbing at a plate as if she hasn't just turned your world upside down. How are you supposed to react to her answer? do you say something, do you not say something?

“Why?” the question leaves your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Why do you think so?”

You don't say anything, you just shrug your shoulders. You genuinely don't know. You'd just blurted out the question without actually knowing what you wanted the answer to be.

Her eyes linger on yours for a few seconds, and you can't quite read them. She looks like she wants to say something, she looks like she wants to reach out and hold you, and you'd bet real money that if circumstances were different, she would've done exactly that.

Instead, she just averts her gaze back to the sink and lets out a sigh. “I don't know... I just do.”

You go back to scrubbing dishes. It's obvious there are a million things that you want to say, that you need to say.

“Oh,” is all you say in response, and the word hangs in the air awkwardly.

You're both quiet after that. It's quiet, except for the faint music playing in the background and the sounds of dishes clinking against one another.

A few times, you catch yourself glancing over at her, trying to pick up any hint of what she could be thinking, what she might say next. But, every time, she stubbornly keeps her eyes down on the dishes she's scrubbing. It's frustrating, the way she just won't look at you, and what pisses you off most is the fact that you understand why she won't look at you.

You have a feeling that if she were to look at you, if she were to meet your eyes right now, she'd either burst into tears or shove you into a storage closet and kiss you until your lungs burned.

You don't know which one would be worse.

It's so quiet, so awkward. You're both just scrubbing and scrubbing, refusing to look at the other.

Every time she takes a breath, you look over at her, convinced she's about to speak. But, time and time again, she doesn't, and the only sound to come from her is a shaky exhale.

It's maddening.

The sound of Claggor's voice finally breaks the stifling silence, and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. He peeks his head into the kitchen, grinning widely. “Yo, you two almost done here? Powder is about to get impatient.”

You're thankful for the interruption, and judging by the look on Vi's face, so is she.

“Yeah, we're done,” Vi says, glancing up from the dish she's been washing for the last ten minutes.

You dry your hands off on a nearby towel, trying to look unaffected. “We're finished.” 

Claggor grins again, “Thank God, Powder is about to start biting people.” He laughs, then disappears back into the main room.

“That sounds like her.” She chuckles, scrubbing her hands off on a towel.

“Guest we should head out there then,” you say, trying to get her to actually look at you.

She hesitates, still running the towel over her hands even though they're no longer wet. She looks down for a moment as if she's contemplating something, then finally lifts her head to look at you.

Her jaw is tense like she's forcing herself to stay quiet. After a few seconds, her features soften a little. “Yeah.”

You want to ask her what she's thinking, you want to ask her why. Instead, you just push the door of the kitchen open and gesture for her to go first.

—

“Now that we've had an amazing dinner, it's time for the best part of the night.”

Everyone gathers around, now sitting either on the couch or on the floor. Powder and Mylo immediately get squished together on the floor. Powder mutters under her breath, “Hey! you're shoving me!”

“Only because you're taking up too much space.”

Vander smiles from his spot on the couch. “Alright! It's time for secret santa. Everyone remembers who they drew, right?”

A group of nods and hums go around as everyone pulls out the slips of paper that have the names they drew.

Vander clasps his hands together. “Good!” he says as he looks around the room, his smile getting wider. “Who wants to go first?”

A few seconds of silence, then Powder’s hand shoots up. As always, she's the most excited one. “me!”

Vander laughs. “Well, look at that, our little girl is so eager. Okay, you can go first, Pow-Pow.”

Powder smiles and scrambles off the floor, almost tripping over herself as she pulls a present from beneath the Christmas tree. She glances down at the tag and grins.

She then scans the room with a giddy smile, then her eyes land on Silco. She bounds over to him, practically shoving the present into his hands as she sits down on the floor next to his legs. 

Silco smiles faintly as he takes the present. “Alright, let's see what you got me, hm?” He's quiet as he carefully unwraps the present, and Powder watches him who barely contains her excitement.

After a moment, the wrapping paper is set aside, and the present is now fully unwrapped. It's just a little box, though Silco is curious as to what's inside.

He glances at Powder as he takes the lid off the box, looking a little wary. Powder just grins at him. “Go on, open it,” she encourages.

He looks back at the box and, with a nod, reaches in and pulls out the item inside. He holds it in his hands and looks at it curiously, then looks at Powdr with a raised eyebrow.

She's still grinning, and she looks extremely pleased with herself. Mylo glances over to look and snorts out a laugh. “Would you look at that?”

Silco looks at the item in his hands, then looks at Powder again. “You got me…” he begins, trying to sound unimpressed. “...a shark plushie?”

Powder nods, her grin getting wider. “Yep!” she exclaims, “I got you a little shark plushie. You like it, right?”

Silco glances at the plushie and then at her again, looking vaguely fond. He carefully sets it down on his lap, then smiles. “I adore it.”

Her grin somehow widens even more. 

Silco chuckles, then looks around. “Who's next?”

Claggor shrugs, raising a hand. “I'll go,” he offers, to which Vander nods.

“Go ahead, Claggs,” he says approvingly.

Claggor gets to his feet from his spot on the floor, then moves to the tree. He crouches down and rummages around, looking for the present with the correct name tag.

A minute passes as a few minutes go by. He eventually stands back up, a small present in his hands. He looks around the room, then his eyes land on Mylo, who's now lying down on the floor and looking very bored.

Claggor moves over to him, tossing the present into his lap. Mylo looks up and catches the present, shooting him a glare. “You couldn't have done that a little nicer?” he complains while sitting up.

Claggor just shrugs and gives him a flat look. “Suck it up,” he tells him bluntly before sitting back down.

Mylo scoffs and begins to unwrap the present, ripping the wrapping paper off carelessly. He tosses the wrapping paper away, then looks down at the present as he tears the box open. He's quiet for a moment, looking at the contents...

..and then he groans, covering his face.

“Oh, come the hell on,” he grumbles, though he sounds more whiny than anything else. He glances up from his hands to give Claggor a withering look. “Dude, seriously?”

“What?”

Mylo just sighs, shooting the toy in the box with a dismayed look. “Really? a stress ball?”

Claggor shrugs. “I thought it was a good idea,” he says, clearly not bothered by Mylo's unimpressed tone. “And you seem to be lacking a bit in the stress management department.”

“Well, excuse me for being a bit stressed when you're being a dick.”

“See, you need the stress ball. You proved my point right there.”

Mylo just groans and throws his head back. He picks up the stress ball and squeezes it hard. “I hate you.”

Claggor merely grins. “I love you too.”

Mylo mutters something under his breath, too quiet for anyone to hear, then looks up as he addresses the group. “So, who's up next? I'm sure there's some poor sap itching to go.”

Silco raises a hand. “I'll go next,” he offers.

Everyone glances at him, then nods and gestures for him to go. He gets up off the couch and saunters to the tree. He scans the presents beneath it, moving a few aside to find the one he was looking for.

He finally finds it and smirks to himself, grabbing the present and standing up. His eyes sweep over the group. He then turns and walks over to Vander, holding the present out to him.

Vander glances at the present, then at Silco, taking the present and curiously giving it a little shake. “What is it?” he asks curiously.

Silco just grins in a vaguely irritating way and sits back down. “Just open it,” he replies, his voice dripping with innocence.

Vander raises an eyebrow but begins to unwrap the present meticulously, occasionally shooting Silco a glance, as if expecting something. He peels away the wrapping paper to reveal a small box, then looks at Silco, his eyes questioning.

Silco just shrugs and gestures for him to go on. Vander quirks another eyebrow up but opens the box anyway, now intrigued.

Then a snort finally escapes him. He's now fighting to hold back laughter.

Mylo sits up suddenly, looking at Vander, then at Silco, curiosity in his eyes. “What? What is it?” he asks eagerly.

Vander doesn't answer for a moment. He's still staring into the box, looking like he can't believe what he's seeing. He looks up at Silco. “Please tell me you're joking,” he implores.

Silco's smile widens. “I couldn't be more serious,” he replies.

Vander lets out a long, suffering sigh, then digs through the tissue paper and pulls something out of the box.

It's a pair of comically large underwear, one that could practically fit an entire person inside of it.

Vander groans, holding the underwear up and staring at them with slight disgust.

Mylo and Powder both start laughing once they register what the present is. Powder laughs so hard she nearly falls over, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter.

Vi's eyes widen at the sight of the underwear, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. As much as it pains her to admit it... she just knows the jokes that Silco is going to start making any minute now.

…and she's right.

“You see, I thought it was a necessary gift.”

“Necessary?” Vander repeats, still holding the underwear up in disbelief.

Silco nods. “Of course. you're getting old, and as you get older... accidents happen.”

“I'm not that old,” Vander grumbles, though he knows it's probably not the best argument.

Silco smirks, raising a hand and waving it dismissively. “Oh, you know what I mean. Things begin to... fail as you age. I simply wanted to make sure you had a spare pair.”

Mylo is now practically rolling on the floor, clutching his sides. “Oh, my god, I can't breathe—this is—this is gold,” he wheezes. Powder is laughing so hard she's choking, practically coughing her lungs up.

Vander looks down at the underwear in his hands. He looks like he wants to throw it into the fire and destroy it right there. He glances up at Silco, giving him a look that clearly says, 'I will get you back for this'.

Silco leans back against the couch and crosses an ankle over his knee. “What? You don't like them? I personally thought they were a good choice.”

Vander opens his mouth to reply, but Powder interrupts him.

“Oh, god,” Powder chokes out, “you should try them on. They'd look perfect on you.”

Vander shoots Powder a glare to kill. “No way in hell,” he mutters firmly, folding his arms and sitting back.

But Powder's not done. “Come on, just try them on,” she wheezes. “It really would be a look for you.”

Vander turns his glare to Powder, his expression clearly saying, 'I will murder you if you keep talking.' “No,” he replies through gritted teeth.

Even Silco is starting to look amused.

“Just for a second,” she teases, “come on, just long enough for us to see. We won't even say anything.”

Van shoots a sneering look at both Silco and Powder. Eventually he lets out an exasperated grumble and stands up, mumbling something he heads into the bathroom with the underwear.

Mylo falls back onto the floor, clutching his stomach.

Silco is laughing too, watching as Vander heads to the bathroom to change.

Mylo is dying of laughter, gasping for air in between wheezes. “Holy shit,” he chokes out. “He's really doing it.”

It takes a few minutes, but the bathroom door swings open and Vander exits, looking like he regrets every decision he's made that led him to this. His face is as red as a tomato as he stomps back over to them in the gigantic underwear.

Mylo and Powder are losing it again, falling over and rolling on the floor with laughter.

Silco is smiling, trying to stifle a laugh. “Oh my,” he says, barely containing his amusement. “They look even better than I imagined.” 

Vander can hardly look anyone in the eye, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you. I hate you all.”

Claggor looks at Silco and Powder, clearly trying not to laugh. “You guys are terrible,” he says, a trace of a smile on his face.

Vi can't hold back her laughter anymore, she's grinning from ear to ear. “You look... perfect,” she comments through a strangled chuckle.

Vander turns his glare on her. “I hate you all,” he repeats, shaking his head.

Powder is still giggling from the floor. “I want pictures.” She holds up her phone.

Vander looks like he wants to smack her head off. “Absolutely not. I forbid it,” he snaps, sounding as serious as someone wearing comically large underwear can.

Powder just pouts, lowering her phone. “Oh, come on,” she says with a whine, looking up at Vander with puppy-dog eyes. “Just a few.”

“No, I'm not having pictures of me in these... embarrassing things circulating the internet.”

“The internet? Who said anything about the internet?” she replies, a smirk on her face. “I just meant... a few for my own personal, um, research.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but Silco chimes in first. “Oh, come on. Humor her. It's the season of giving.”

Vander turns his glare to Silco. “There's no way in hell—”

“Pleeeease?” Powder interrupts, holding out her phone again.

Vander looks like he's about to argue, but Powder is already giving him those damn puppy-dog eyes that he struggles to resist. He hesitates, then, with a grumble, he sighs. “Fine, one picture.”

Powder looks like a kid on Christmas. The instant the word 'picture' leaves Vander's mouth, she leaps to her feet and lifts up her phone. “Stand up straighter.”

Vander obeys, reluctantly straightening up.

“Say cheese.”

Vander grunts, but he cooperates. “Cheese,” he mutters, putting on a strained smile.

Powder snaps the picture, then lowers her phone and looks at it with a satisfied smile. “Oh yeah, you're getting on the naughty list for this one,” she grins, wiggling the phone a little.

Once the picture-taking is over and Vander changes his clothes back, Silco motions for Powder to settle down. 

“Alright, settle down. It's time to continue with the secret Santa,” Silco says, looking at the others.

They all nod in agreement, still snickering but mostly focusing on the present exchange.

“Who wants to go next?” Silco asks, looking around the group.

Mylo looks around, then grins. “My turn.”

Powder rolls her eyes, knowing that look on his face all too well. “Here we go,” she says, preparing herself for whatever nonsense Mylo is about to come up with.

Mylo smirks, holding up his present. “Well, I drew someone's name... and it was a pretty easy choice.” He then looks around the group with mock innocence. “Oh, where's my victim?”

Claggor sighs. “Who exactly is the unlucky person this year?”

“There's only one person who I could have possibly chosen…”

“Would you just spit it out before the suspense kills me?” Powder snaps, impatient.

Mylo huffs. “Jeez, have some patience. Anyway, my secret santa is…”

Claggor puts his head in his hands, bracing himself.

“My secret santa is, drumroll please…” They reluctantly drum their hands against any surface near them.  “My very special secret Santa is…”

Mylo grins, looking from face to face, savoring the moment before he does the big reveal.

“My secret Santa... is Powder!”

“Fuck!” She groans, burying her head in her hands.

“Aww, what's the matter, Pow?” Mylo grins, holding up the wrapped present.

Powder lets out another groan, glaring up at him. “You're the worst,” she mutters, looking like she's praying to any god out there to just put her out of her misery already.

Mylo grins, getting a kick out of her misfortune. “Come on, don't be like that. It could be worse, I could have gotten you a box of spiders,” he teases, shaking the present in her direction.

Powder looks like she's seriously considering that as a better option. “You know what? Give me the spiders. Spiders would be better than whatever it is you got me.”

“Nice try. You're not getting out of it that easily,” he says, holding the present just out of her reach. “You have to open it, come on.”

Powder grumbles in protest, then reluctantly reaches out for the present. She snatches it out of his hands, shooting him a glare. “If I die from this, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life,” she mutters, slowly tearing the wrapping paper.

Then, Powder tears back the last piece of wrapping paper, revealing a plain black box. “What the hell is this?”

“You're going to have to open it and see for yourself.”

Powder grumbles, giving Mylo a glare that could freeze hell over. She slowly opens the black box, not sure what to expect. “...Please tell me this is not what I think it is.” 

The others lean in closer, curiosity getting the better of them.

“You did not get me what I think you got me.”

“Oh, you're going to have to be more specific than that,” he replies, trying to hide his smirk.

Powder glares at him, her jaw clenching. “You know what I'm talking about,” she snaps, looking like she's contemplating dumping the contents of the box over his head.

Mylo just shrugs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.” 

Vander just rubs his face with one hand, knowing that this situation is about to spiral out of control.

“You're telling me,” Powder hisses, “that you didn't get me exactly what I think you got me?”

“Like I said, you'll have to be a bit more specific,” he responds, looking too smug for his own good.

Powder looks like she's about to explode. “Mylo, I swear to-”

Claggor cuts her off, knowing that she's about to blow her top. “Calm down, Powder,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I'll calm down when the box goes straight over his head.”

“Why so angry? I thought you'd be excited.”

“I can't wait to make you eat that box.” 

“Oh, I'm so scared.”

Vander interjects, trying to diffuse the tension. “That's enough. No need to start throwing things around.”

“I was just having fun.”

“Yeah, have fun with a black eye.”

“Enough,” Silco says, giving both Powder and Mylo stern looks.

Both Mylo and Powder grumble, reluctantly backing down a bit.

“Can we all just get back to opening presents, please?” Vander asks, exasperated.

The others nod in agreement, though Powder still looks like she's not done with Mylo yet. She glares at him one last time before reluctantly returning to her seat.

Mylo just grins, clearly enjoying having gotten the last word in. He takes his own seat next to Claggor.

The others exchange glances, silently agreeing to not let Powder and Mylo be too close to each other for the rest of the evening.

Silco clears his throat, getting everyone's attention. “Now, who's next?” he asks, looking around the room.

Vander nods, leaning back in his seat. “I'm up next, I guess.” He rummages at the gifts under the Christmas tree. After a few moments of searching, Vander finally finds the present he was looking for. He picks it up, holding it in his lap. “This one's for you,” he says, handing the present to Claggor.

Claggor takes the present, looking curious. He glances down at it, then looks up at Vander with a smile. “Thanks,” he says, starting to unwrap it.

Once the wrapping paper is off, Claggor is holding a box of assorted tools. They range from pliers to wrenches to screwdrivers.

“Just like you requested,” Vander says, watching as Claggor starts inspecting the tools.

“Wow, these are great. Thanks, dad,” he replies, running a hand over the tools in the box.

Vander smiles, pleased to see that Claggor likes his present. “I thought you'd like them. I saw them at the pawnshop the other day and figured you could use them.”

“I definitely will. These are a huge upgrade compared to what I have now.”

Vander reaches over and pats Claggor on the shoulder. “You deserve it. You've been working your ass off lately.” He looks around the room, looking for the next person to take their turn. “Alright, who's up next?” 

Mylo's head suddenly snaps up, a smirk on his face. “Oh goodie, it's Vi's turn.”

“Come on, Vi, your turn,” Silco says, looking a little amused.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses,” she mumbles, getting to her feet and making her way over to the christmas tree.

Vi crouches down, rummaging through the presents. After a few moments, she finally finds the present. She grabs it, standing back up. She looks over at you, looking like she's been caught doing something she's not supposed to do.

She makes her way over to where you're sitting, holding out the present. “Here, this one's for you.” 

You take the present from her, looking down at it. It's heavy in your hands, the wrapping paper slightly crinkled from how hard she was holding it. “Thanks, Vi/” You look up at her.

“Don't mention it, babe,” she mutters, her voice strained.

Powder and Mylo both let out a chorus of ‘aww’ when they heard her use the nickname.

“Shut up, you two,” she says, glaring at them both.

You start unwrapping the present, tearing off the wrapping paper to reveal what's inside.

Once the wrapping paper is off, you're holding a small box. It's plain, made of brown cardboard, and doesn't look like much. But as you look back up at Vi, you can see a hint of nervousness on her face.

She's watching you intently, her expression anxious. 

Still curious, you glance back down at the box in your hands. You lift off the lid, opening it slowly.

There, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, is a necklace. It's a silver chain with a small silver heart pendant. It looks delicate and beautiful, and judging by the look on Vi's face, she spent a lot of time picking it out.

You slowly reach into the box, lifting the necklace out of the tissue paper. You hold it up, letting the chain dangle from your fingers. It glints in the light, the pendants catching the glow from the Christmas tree lights.

Vi is still watching you, her eyes fixed on the necklace. “Do you like it?”

You look up from the necklace, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, I do,” you respond. “...It's beautiful.”

You hold the necklace in your hand, running your thumb over the pendant. Without even thinking, you reach up and clasp the necklace around your neck.

It fits snugly against your skin, the pendant resting on your collarbone.

You look up, catching Vi watching you as you adjust the necklace. “Looks good on you.” 

“Thanks,” you reply, still running your thumb over the pendant.

Mylo and Powder both let out another chorus of ‘aww’ clearly touched by the sight.

Vi shoots them another glare, her eyes narrowing. “Would you two shut up, for Christ's sake?”

“Oh, come on, sis. It's cute” Powder teases.

“Ah, young love,” Silco says. 

Vander chuckles, nodding his head. “I remember my younger days.”

“Don't you mean your younger hookups?” 

Vander grins, holding his hands up. “Guilty as charged.”

Silco laughs, shaking his head. “Some things never change.” Then, he glances around the room, looking for who's turn it is next. “Lasty, who's next?” 

You look around, seeing that almost everyone has given out their gift. It's obvious that your turn is next. “I'm up next.”

You get to your feet, making your way over to where the presents are. then you hold the present in your hands, not looking up quite yet. You can feel Vi's eyes on you.

This is it. You take a deep breath and look up, meeting her gaze. 

You walk over to her, your heart beating faster. You feel nervous, but you try to push it down. You stop in front of her, holding out the present. “Here you go, babe.” 

Vi's expression softens, her eyes darting down to the gift in your hands. She reaches out and grabs it, looking slightly puzzled.

You watch silently as she unwraps the gift. 

“Is this... a sweater?” she asks, bewildered. It's clearly hand-knit, with uneven stitching and a clashing color scheme.

“I made it myself,”

“You made it? Like, with your own two hands?”

“Obviously...”

“I mean... it's…”

“It's hideous?” you suggest.

She winces, like she can't deny it. “Yeah, kinda…” 

“Hey,” you say, mock-indignant. “I spent a lot of time making that, you know.”

“I can tell.”

“Then, try it on.”

Vi hesitates, looking at you warily. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You nudge her. “Just try it on… for me.”

She sighs, realizing there's no way out of this. “Fine.”

She pulls it over her head, struggling to get her arms through the sleeves. The fit is awkward, and the sweater seems too small. But somehow, it kind of makes her look... cute?

She tugs at the sleeves, looking down at herself. “How do I look?” 

You pretend to look her over, like you're seriously considering the question. “I dunno,” you reply. “it's... something.”

“Be serious. I look like an idiot, don't I?”

“Don't be like that” you tease, reaching out to straighten the collar of the sweater. “It's not that bad.”

“Not ‘that bad?’” she repeats. “Are you kidding? I look like a walking Christmas tree.” She groans, tugging at the sleeves again.

“I think you look…” cute. adorable. “Fine” “That's the best you've got? 'fine?'”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know… Something more than just ‘fine’”

“Okay, okay, let me rephrase that, you look…” beautiful, cute, adorable. “...very christmas-y”

“You really know how to boost a girl's ego.”

“I didn't realize you needed your ego stroked.”

“I don't,” she protests, flustered. “I'm just saying, a little bit more enthusiasm would be appreciated.”

Silco clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. “Ahem, now that the present giving is concluded…”

Silence falls over the room as everyone waits for Silco to speak. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock is the only sound that can be heard.

Silco glances at the clock, a smile on his face. “It appears to be midnight,” he says, pausing for emphasis. “Which means…”

A chorus of “Merry Christmas!” rises up from the group, everyone sounding festive and cheerful. 

You look back to Vi, who is still fiddling with the sweater. “Merry Christmas,” you whisper, not wanting the others to hear.

She glances at you, a smile touching her lips. “Merry Christmas to you too,” she replies, her voice just as quiet as yours.

Awkwardly you glance down at the carpet, unsure of what to say next. 

“Hey,” she says suddenly. “Can I talk to you for a second…? In private?”

“Sure,” you agree, following her as she leads you away from the group.

She leads you into a small back room, closing the door behind her. The room is dimly lit, with only a few bare light bulbs lining the walls. Aside from a few boxes and some old crates, the room is empty.

She turns to face you, leaning against the wall. She's quiet for a moment, her gaze averted to the floor. you can tell she's trying to find the right words, fiddling with the hem of the sweater again.

“Listen,” she begins, finally meeting your eyes. “I know this is weird, and I know things are... difficult right now. But…” She pauses. “I just want to say one thing…”

“Go on,” you encourage.

“I…” she starts, then falters. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Her gaze drops to the floor. “Well, I just…” her fingers fumble at the edge of her sweater. “I just... I miss you.”

Your heart skips a beat as she finally says the words out loud.

You've been wanting her to say that for weeks, months even. After everything that's happened between the two of you, you desperately wanted to hear those very words fall from her lips. But now that she's saying it...

What the hell do you say to that?

You're speechless, stunned into silence by her honesty. You open your mouth, intending to say something. But words seem completely lost to you at this point. You just stand there, staring at her, dumbfounded.

“Say something,” she says. “Say anything. You're just staring at me like an idiot.”

“I don't know what to say.” Because, you really don't know what to say. You have so much you want to say, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat.

“Say you hate me. Say you never want to get back together. Just... say something.”

She's waiting. Waiting for something, anything. An opinion, a response. Anything from you. But what can you say? Do you tell her the truth—that you've missed her so much you can't even sleep at night? that the last month has felt like a living hell, having no contact with her?

You want to tell her that you hate her for throwing you away just to come back around wanting something from you again, but your tongue feels like cotton.

“Say something… yell at me, curse me out, anything!”

But her tone gets under your skin, and suddenly you feel the anger start to build inside of you. 

Who does she think she is, demanding a response from you? she's the one who tossed you aside without a second thought. You're sick of this. You've done everything for her, given her everything she wanted, and here she is, pushing you for more.

It is too much—all too much. Without a word, you turn from her, heading toward the door. You can't do this anymore. 

You hear her call out your name as you shove open the door, but you don't stop. You make your way back, stopping at Vander's side. “Vander, I'm going to head out.”

Vander nods, giving you a knowing look. He can tell something's going on, but he's wise enough not to press the issue. “Alright, kid,” he says gruffly. “Get some rest, yeah?”

You nod your head, forcing a smile onto your face. “Yeah, I'll try,” you say, giving him a wave before starting towards the exit.

When you pass by Silco, he gives you a curious look. You catch his gaze and give him a nod.

Finally, you make your way out the front door. The cold night air hits your face, making you shiver. You take a breath, preparing yourself for the walk home.

But then you hear the door swing open behind you, her footsteps hurry after you. “Wait!” her voice calls out. “Wait, stop!”

You keep walking, your steps quick. You're trying to get as far away from her as possible to outrun all of the feelings that came rushing back to you—

“Let me walk you home.”

Her words cut through your thoughts. You falter, your steps slowing down.

You stop walking, turning around to face her. “What?”

She's standing there, looking like a kicked puppy. Her shoulders are slumped, her expression sheepish. She can tell you're not happy she's followed you out here, but she looks like she doesn't care.

She lets out a huff, her breath coming out in a white cloud in the cold air. “I just... look, whatever happened in there, whatever happened between us... just let me look out for you. Just let me walk you home. I.. I have to know you're safe.”

“I don't need a babysitter.” You practically growl, your irritation obvious. “I can handle myself.”

Vi flinches at your words, but she doesn't back down. If anything, she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I know you can,” she says. “I'm not offering to babysit you. I'm just... I'm just asking to walk you home.”

You glance back at the entrance of their house, the warm lights and sounds spilling out into the cold night air.  You turn back to look at her, your voice softer this time. “You don't have to walk me home. We don't have to keep up the act anymore, I'm going home and... you've got better things to do than worry about me.”

“Screw the act. I'm walking you home. It's not up for debate.”

You stare at her, baffled by her insistence. “Seriously? What's the point, Vi? We're not together anymore. Why bother?”

Her jaw clenches, her shoulders tensing. You know she hates this. She hates hearing you say it. Her heart is on her sleeve, and you're tearing pieces out of it, right in front of her.

“Because I care!” she snaps. “Maybe it's hard for you to believe, but I still care about you.”

You shake your head, scoffing at her words. “No, no, no, you don't get to act like you care now. You're the one who broke up with me. You're the one who walked away and left me.”

“I made a mistake,okay? I was a damn idiot, and I screwed up.”

“A mistake?” you echo, scoffing again. “You ended everything, and now you want to walk me home? What, you think that makes up for everything? You think it’s that easy? You threw away everything we had like it meant nothing, like all those months we spent together meant nothing.”

Your voice is trembling with anger as you continue. “And then what did you do? You went around, throwing yourself at anyone that gave you a second glance, like I was nothing. Like I never meant anything to you. Yeah, I know all about that. So don't try to act like you actually care when you clearly didn't give two shits.”

She looks away, her jaw clenching. “I was trying to get over you. I was trying to push you out of my head and it hurts like hell. Every night, every morning, it was like there was a hole inside of me, and no matter how hard I tried to fill it, no matter how many times I went out, how many times I tried to forget you, nothing worked. You were stuck in my head, and I hated it.”

She takes a step closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid. I know it doesn't make any sense. I just... I needed something to distract me, something to keep me from thinking about you. Because it hurt too damn much to think about how much I messed things up.”

“Yeah, congrats. You did a damn good job at distracting yourself, huh? It sure as hell didn't take you very long to get over me.”

She winces again, the guilt written all over her face. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out to you. How many times I thought about coming back to you and begging you to take me back.”

“But you didn't,” you say. “You didn't reach out to me, you didn't try to fix things. So why should I believe you now? Why should I believe that you're sincere when you didn't care enough to fight for us before?”

She looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “What was I supposed to do?” she whispers. “I messed up. I messed things up and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to take back what I did, how to make things like they were before I messed up. All I know is that I miss you. I miss you so damn much, and I'd do anything to have you back.”

You swallow hard. Everything she's saying, it's everything you've wanted to hear for months. It feels like a dream.

But you can't let yourself fall back into this. Not when you've worked so hard to move on. Not when you've spent so many nights crying into your pillow, reminding yourself that she didn't care enough to fix things, to fight for you.

“Why now—Why do you want me back now, after all this time? Why didn't you want me back when it mattered, when I needed you?”

She looks up at you, desperation in her eyes. “Because I was an idiot! Because I was stupid, and scared, and I thought walking away would make it easier, but it just made it worse. Because I spent every damn night regretting that I let you go and wishing that I could take it all back. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for what I put you through.”

“Sorry doesn't fix things,” you say, your voice shaking. “Sorry doesn't take away the pain, sorry doesn't undo what you did.”

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know saying sorry won't magically fix things, but I am sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for walking away, I'm sorry for everything I did wrong. Just... just give me a chance. Give me a chance to make things right.”

She takes another step forward, her eyes pleading. “Give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I love you and that I want to make things right. If I screw up again, you can toss me to the curb and never speak to me again. But please, just give me one more chance.”

“I don't know,” you murmur. “I just... I don't know.”

“I'll do anything. I'll get on my knees every day if I have to. I'll beg on my hands and knees. I'll crawl on my hands and knees. I'll grovel on the ground. Just... please, just give me one chance.”

“I'll think about it. Just...just give me some time to think things over.”

“Okay, okay. I'll give you time or whatever you need. Just please don’t shut me out completely.”

Without hesitation, she envelops you in a tight hug. Her arms wrap around your waist, her face burying into your neck. Her body clings to you, every part of her desperate and needy. “I miss you so much,” she mumbles.

You stand awkwardly, unsure of what to do. But then, your body betrays you, your arms slowly wrapping around her.

For the first time in a long while, you're holding her again. Her warmth, her scent, her touch—it’s all so familiar, so painfully familiar. So damn familiar that it hurts.

“I hate you.”

“I don't blame you.” She pulls back, her hands coming up to cup your face. She lifts her hand, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. 

“I hate you so much,” you repeat, a tear falling down your cheek.

“I deserve that,” she says, her thumbs wiping away your tear.

“Damn right you do.”

You have no idea what to do or what to feel. Everything is a mess, and you're drowning in it.

For now, all you could do was hold her tight and bury your face in her shoulder. 

You hated how good she felt against you and how right it felt to be held by her. 

Damn her for making things so confusing, for making you feel so damn much.

You felt her hand rubbing your back, her fingers tracing circles over your skin. It was a soothing gesture, a silent apology for all the pain she had caused. It only made things worse, making your heart ache even more.

If only things had been different. If only she had been more communicative. If only she had been more sensitive to your feelings. If only she had been there for you when you needed her.

If only she hadn't walked away and left you broken. If only she hadn't hurt you the way she had.

And most of all, if only you had been strong enough to push her away and protect yourself from this mess.

But here you are, standing in the middle of a street wrapped in her arms. You felt like a fool, like a damn idiot, for still wanting her after everything.

You wanted to hate her, you wanted to make her suffer the way you had suffered.

But how could you hate her when she was looking at you like that? how could you hate her when she was holding you like this?

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she still had this kind of effect on you. 

Her eyes met yours, and you saw everything you had missed, everything you had longed for. and you knew, right then, that you were in damn trouble.

—

In the window, Vander and Silco watched you and Vi from afar, the soft glow of the christmas lights casting shadows over their faces.

Silco takes a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around him as he exhales. “Your little plan worked quite well,” he says, looking at Vander with a sly smile.

Vander just shrugs, sipping his drink. “I don't know what you are talking about,” he replies, keeping his expression neutral.

“You're not fooling anyone.”

Vander hums, taking another sip of his drink. “I don't know what you mean,” he says again, keeping his gaze locked on you and Vi.

Silco let out a puff of smoke. “Don't play coy, Vander. You knew damn well what you were doing when you rigged that secret santa.”

“I may have had a little influence,” he admits.

“A little influence? oh, don't downplay it. You wanted them back together, and you knew exactly how to make it happen.”

“I have had a hunch that they still cared about each other,” he says, his voice casual. “And plus, I don't want to see Vi moping around for the past months.”

“And we couldn't have that, could we? seeing her moping around like a lovestruck puppy.”

Vander nods. “She was really terrible at hiding it,” he says. “always pacing around, always looking like she lost a puppy.”

Silco takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing rings into the air. “It was painful to watch,” he says, shaking his head.

“It was like watching a kid trying to hide a secret… I just hope they figure things out.”

“I agree,” Silco says, his eyes flickering over to you and Vi. “Hopefully they can work things out.”

“Only time will tell.”

They watch in silence, seeing how you and Vi are still holding each other.

“I still wouldn't forgive you for that damn underwear you got me.”

“That was the funniest thing you could have received.”

Vander grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Silco. “I do not find it funny to receive underwear as a gift.”

notes: idk what is happening

[no-144444]

The Holidate (2020) - Lando Norris

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

summary: Y/n, who gets mocked for being single, finds the perfect solution when she meets Lando, an F1 driver. Now she has the perfect date for her holidays, but her heart starts yearning for something more.

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

8.8k words

disclaimer: i do not own anything in these films, the only original character is the character y/n.

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

You stood outside your perfect family home, a cigarette in hand. “Fucking holidays,” you sighed. Quickly grabbing some tic tacs from your bag and putting out your cigarette. You covered your tracks and stood in front of the door, willing yourself not to run away. The house was the image of suburbia and the nuclear family bullshit you were used to, the shit you grew up with and believed until you realised that men weren’t shit and you had to go focus on a career if you wanted to live in Chicago. 

“Happy holidays,” you faked a smile as you opened the door, your mother running up to you with a disappointed look. 

“This is what you’re wearing to Christmas dinner? Don’t you own a dress?” you scolded, and you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m great. Thanks for asking mom,” you sighed, following her into the house while taking off your coat. 

“Y/n!” your sister, Abby, cheered. “You’re here!” She pulled you away from your mother, who was busy complaining about something or other, and brought you close. “Mike said you didn’t call him back.”

“Yeah, I didn’t,” you shrugged. She gave you a stern look. “What? I can’t date a professional clown! I’d never sleep again.”

“Well, you need to date someone! It’s been months,” she complained. 

“Well, no one wants to date someone who lays around in their pyjamas all day,” your mother added. 

“It’s called being a remote worker, mom, and, it’s not like my boss cares,” you scoffed. 

“Are you smoking?” she asked, sniffing you feverishly.

“No mom, I’m not smoking,” you answered, your tone dry and robotic. You gently pushed her off.

“Because no man wants to marry a smoker,” she barked. 

“Good thing I’m not smoking anymore,” you lied. 

“No one wants to marry a smoker,” she instilled. 

“But you-”

“A smoker who lies,” she added, knowing how you’d caught her out. 

As the night went on, in came your brother and his girlfriend, your aunt (with a random guy she’d met the day before), and your brother-in-law with his gaggle of hell-spawn children. 

You watched as the festivities played on, your aunt all over her new man, you sister battling with the drink in her hand while her husband battled their children from shitting in the manger again, and you brother being over-attentive to his girlfriend. Sometimes you pity them. They have to take care of someone all the time, they always have someone there for them, someone to come home to every night, someone to wake up beside every day, it must be exhausting. 

You stood beside your aunt in the kitchen, escaping the happy couples and watching as her new boy gobbled at the food. 

“Isn’t he great?” she giggled. 

You grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m planning on marrying him, he’s just my holidate,” she brushed off your concern. 

“A ‘holidate’?” you questioned. 

“Yeah, a holidate, y’know a date solely for the holiday,” she explained it like it was the most normal and regular thing in the world. “No commitment.”

“Y/n, I have a friend who wants to meet you!” your brother, James, called from the other room. You rolled your eyes. 

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As you sat at the (kids) dinner table, you were busy getting relationship advice from your 8 year old niece. That had to be a new low. She had a boyfriend, and you didn’t. Could your life get more pathetic?

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You all sat around in the living room, opening presents. Your sister got you pyjamas, two sizes too big. Your brother got you pyjamas, three sizes too big, and your parents got you, you guessed it!- pyjamas. At least those were the actual size. You faked as much enthusiasm as you could, and just smiled and nodded. How much worse could this Christmas get? 

As you all finished up opening gifts, your brother stood up, taking Liz’s hand. 

“Liz, I know it’s only been 3 months, and 6 incredible days, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice full of excitement. 

“Yes!’ she cheered. “Yes, I’ll marry you!” 

Your heart dropped. Your little brother was getting married before you. You were finally cemented as the pathetic sibling, forever. 

Worst. Christmas. Ever. 

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Little did you know, that just a few blocks away, someone else was going through a harrowing Christmas date experience…

Lando walked up beside Mandy, a girl he’d just-so-happened to have met in a random club over the break. He hadn’t planned to come to Chicago, but he just-so-happened to have ended up there, on the basis of Quadrant meetings and deal negotiations being held there. He had gone on two dates with Mandy so far, one of them being the time they met in the club. He had no idea why he hadn’t just flown home to go see his family and siblings, maybe even see Mila and babysit for a while. 

“Your parents know this is our third date, right?” he asked as they stood on the front porch. 

“Of course they do!” she smiled brightly. “I’m not even sure I told them you were coming-”

His heart dropped as the door opened, and they immediately turned to him. 

“Lando!” her mother cheered. “He’s even more handsome than in the pictures!”

“Pictures?” he mumbled, his face dropping. Obviously, he knew people were going to know who he was, he was an F1 driver for fuck’s sake. But something about the way she said pictures made his stomach drop, and he wasn’t sure if she meant pictures that Mandy had taken of him (he never posed for any), or the ones online. Something told him it was the first option, and he felt sick. 

Then ensued a night of pure agony, he was buried in baby photos, old trophies, and a look into this random girls’ life. As he stood in her childhood bedroom, he truthfully asked himself. “Fuck am I?” and groaned when he was called down to dinner. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

After dinner, he went back up to Maisie’s room- or was her name Mandy? Anyways, to talk about the awful night. 

“What is going on?” he questioned, whisper-shouting.

“My parents fucking love you,” she smirked, pressing her lips to his. 

“What the fuck?” he asked again as she pushed him down on the bed, stripping herself. 

“Come on, y’know you like me,” she smirked, a sultry look in her eye. “You wouldn’t be here on a major holiday if you didn’t.”

“I already explained that I’m here for business purposes and-” 

She started kissing him, and he stopped caring about the strangeness of the situation when she started unzipping his trousers. 

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He sat sandwiched between her parents, matching ugly Christmas sweater on, opening a box full of… swimming trunks?

“Swimming togs… thanks,” he faked as much enthusiasm as he could as they all nodded. 

“They’re skin-tight too, since it makes you go faster in the water,” Mandy explained, a bright smile on her face. 

“Togs, and a project, thanks,” he smiled, trying his best to charm his way out of it all. 

She held out her hands, expecting a present from him and his heart stopped. 

“Me next!” she cheered. 

“You said we weren’t doing presents this year,” he said, feeling the eyes of her parents on him. 

“Pardon?” she questioned, her eyes dangerous. “So you know me well enough to cum in my mouth,”

He looked at her parents and shook his head as she continued. “But not well enough to get me a Christmas gift? Are you shitting me?”

“W-what-” he stuttered before getting up. “Y’know what,” he turned to her parents. “Thank you for the lovely dinner, happy Christmas,” he turned to her. “Maisie, don’t call me again!”

“Mandy,” she corrected, tears in her eyes. “It’s Mandy you asshole.”

“Great, Mandy, then,” he scoffed before starting to walk to the door, then he remembered the ugly christmas sweater he was wearing, and off it came. He threw it to Mandy, and walked out the door.  

Worst. Christmas. Ever. 

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You stand behind some British guy (who you swear you know from somewhere) in the sluggish queue of a random men's department store. 

Said British guy is busy fighting with the sales clerk to take his strange swimming togs back, and you’ve had enough of it. 

“Hey, Cockney, we’ve all been waiting for ages, some of us have jobs,” you scoffed. 

“I’m actually from Bristol,” he rolled his eyes. “And what makes you think I don’t have a job.”

“You’re in the mall on a Wednesday,” quickly, you brought the two pairs of pyjamas that don’t fit you to the front. “I’d like to return these.”

“Hey!” he scoffed. 

“Hey,” you smiled in return.

“I can only offer store credit,” the clerk smiled apologetically, and you sighed. 

“Seriously?” 

“Ha,” The Brit laughed. “That’s what you get.” 

“And sir, I can only offer you store credit as well.” 

“Ha!” you laughed. “That’s what you get.”

“I’ll give you 45 bucks for it all,” the girl behind you in line smiled at the both of you. “And this voucher for the pretzel stand.”

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You walked around the mall with the Brit, enjoying your pretzel. 

“So, how was your holiday season?” you asked, making polite conversation. 

“I spent my Christmas in an ugly Christmas sweater, a strange dinner, and being with people who I think might’ve been in a cult,” he nodded. 

“Well, I'll take your ugly sweater, and raise you a seat at the kids table, my little brother getting engaged, and my mother constantly asking me to date one of her many friends' sons,” you listed. “You sure you don’t want any?” you offered him some pretzel.

“Do you know what that does to your body?” he asked. 

“Oh,” you grimaced. “You’re one of those guys.” 

“What does that mean?” he scoffed. 

“It means you’re the kind of guy to take a billion vitamins a day and talks about your micros and macros,” you laughed. Then you caught sight of the guy your aunt brought to Christmas dinner. “Shit,” you cursed, hiding behind the Brit. 

“What?” he laughed. 

“You see the mall Santa over there?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s the guy my aunt brought home for Christmas dinner, hide me,” you begged, and he walked on with you behind him, hiding you. 

“Who is he anyway?” he asked. 

“Oh, it wasn’t serious,” you chuckled. “He was her Holidate.”

“Holidate?” he questioned. 

“It’s just a person you pick up to spend Christmas with,” you shrugged. “It’s dumb, I know.”

A light bulb went off in his head. “Just Christmas, or all holidays?”

“All of ‘em,” you nodded. “I mean, I guess it’s pretty genius when you actually think about it.”

“That’s exactly what I need for New Year’s, a Holidate!”

You chuckled. “Sorry, pretty sure my aunt is already booked up-”

“No, I’m serious, I am done casually dating on the holidays! I don’t want to do it anymore, it’s exhausting. I always end up being an asshole in some sort of way or-”

“Really? Try being the only single person left in your family, at the age of 24. My little brother, who's 21, by the way, is getting married,” you scoffed. “I mean every time I see them it is a fucking palaver of sad glances and exhausting small talk about one of their ‘friends’. Why is everyone so suspicious of a happy, single woman?” 

“Because it’s obvious you’re not happy,” he said like it was obvious. “Was that a trick question?”

You sighed. “I am happy, thank you very much.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Look, humans are meant to be with other people on the holidays, it’s just a fact! We all need warmth… companionship,” he could sense the fact that he was losing you. “And someone to drunk-mock people at parties with!”

“I do enjoy drunk-mocking people,” you pondered. 

“Perfect! We can be each other’s Holidate for New Year’s!” 

You chuckled, walking on. “Funny, I don’t even know you.” 

“That’s what makes it ideal! I don’t know you, you don’t know me! We aren’t expecting anything from each other, other than showing up to the date!”

“Sure…” you sighed. 

“And we’d never sleep with each other as well, it’s a win-win.”

You frowned, a quizzitive look on your face. “Why wouldn’t we sleep together?” He looked you up and down and grimaced. “Christ, calm down with the flattery asshole.”

“Not like that, it’s just you’re not my type,” he explained quickly. 

“Goodbye, or Cheerio, I guess. Since that’s what you say in Bristol,” you scoffed, walking off. 

“Come on, it’d be perfect! No more sad glances, no more kids' table seats. I have tickets to the Skyfall party, and I need a plus one,” he explained, following you. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. 

“That’s such a good party,” you sighed, knowing for the years you’d gone to it before. 

“So say yes,” he smirked, knowing he was winning you over. “I just want to have a nice night and know that my date won’t go batshit if I don’t drop down on one knee at midnight with a ring with a quarter of a million pounds.”

“What makes you think I’m not batshit?” you smirked. 

He smiled. “You’re not.”

You smiled back. 

“I’m Lando, by the way.”

“Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n, here is my number,” he smiled, handing you his business card. 

“Formula 1 driver and CEO,” you raised an eyebrow. “Do you drive for the orange team?”

“It’s papaya,” he rolled his eyes. “And yes, yes I do.” 

“Don’t girls like… throw themselves at you?”

He sighed. “Those are usually the batshit ones.”

You nodded. “Right.” 

“Just think about the party and text me,” he smiled. 

“I won’t be texting you, I’m more of a RedBull girl myself,” you smirked, walking off. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You sighed, thinking over the past new days. Your mom had tried (and failed) to get you to meet with her new neighbour, work was already beating you down, and you just needed some fun. Skyfall party it was. 

Lando, it was. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

The party was already insane when you walked in, and you two fell into a steady rhythm of guessing peoples’ stories. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” he smiled. 

“Thanks,” you smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Your tits look amazing in that dress,” he smiled, and chuckled when you smiled. “This is great! I can say whatever I want, and I don’t have to worry whether you think I’m a classy guy or not.” 

“I can wear a slutty dress without being slut-shamed, win-win,” you agreed. 

As the night progressed, you found yourself slightly (*very much) drunk and sitting, talking about your awful love lives, and your deep-rooted hatred for the film Dirty Dancing. 

“He’s such a dick to her the entire film, and she has absolutely no self-respect!” you argued.

“But isn’t it romantic or something-?”

“No! It's pathetic that she’s sold as this head-strong, interesting girl who falls for the first guy she sees at a goddamn summer camp for families, likes him the entire time even though he treats her like shit, then gets excited in the end when he finally gives her a chance, because he ‘grew to love her’. It’s bullshit!”

“So who ruined rom coms for you?” he asked. You shook your head. 

“We’re not going there,” you sighed, taking another sip of your drink. 

“I think we’re already here,” he smiled. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Luc,” you answered. 

“Christ, he sounds like a wanker,” he giggled. 

“He wasn’t,” you sighed. “He was handsome, intelligent, French.”

Lando scoffed. “What happened?”

“We just… needed different things,” you explained. “I wanted someone to take home for the holidays, he wanted to fuck a barista. It was a super mutual break-up,” you laughed. Lando didn’t. 

“Shit,” Lando cursed. “Ouch.”

“Well, to be fair, he was too good-looking to be trustworthy,” you sighed. “My sister always says to date-down. Then you’ll never get hurt. I gotta piss, I’ll be right back,” you said, then off you went. 

Lando watched as you left, his heart a little heavier than before. 

In the bathroom, a bride-to-be (well, they were getting engaged tonight, one of the many people you and Lando had profiled) was sobbing over a dress and you had decided to be the good person and switch with her, taking her number so she could give the dress back after she got it dry cleaned. 

You came back in a white ruffled dress with a very large red wine stain on it. You sighed. “Don’t even.”

“Did you get stabbed?” he chuckled. “Or is Carrie in now?”

“Shut up Lando,” you scoffed, dragging him onto the dance floor. 

If Lando was a good charmer, he certainly was a good dancer. You two danced along to the fast-paced, pop songs, but then came the slow set at about 10:30. ‘(I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life’ started playing, the spotlight blaring down on you two as the chords played. Your face dropped and he giggled uncontrollably. 

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” he cheekily smirked, taking your hand. 

The dance floor cleared off, watching as you two somehow pulled off the jump, only for him to drop you, because he was giggling so hard. 

“Nobody drops Baby on her head,” you reminded him as you two sat out of the dancing, trying to substitute your bruised egos (and bodies) with alcohol. 

“I’m going to go take a piss,” he sighed, getting up. 

Perfect timing. The countdown started just as he left, and you were left to watch all the happy couples french-kiss their way into the new year. You sighed. Had it been your worst date ever? No. Would you call him again? Probably not. You watched as people all around kissed and held the people they loved the most and you couldn’t help but feel… without. Sure, you liked how easy and painless being single was, but it was also lonely. For the first time in a while, you let yourself just feel lonely. It sucked. 

Then, Lando came running back, an apology on his lips. 

“Happy New Year Lando,” you smiled, not as enthused as earlier, but it would do. 

“Happy New Year,” he nodded, still sorry about missing it. He awkwardly kissed your cheek and you just accepted it, hoping next year would be slightly (extremely) different. 

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You two rode in the back of a cab, you looked out the window at the city going by, the streets you knew so well and-

“Tonight was fun,” he admitted. “I had a good time.”

“Not the worst night of my life,” you agreed.

“So… what are your Valentine’s plans?” he questioned. 

“You mean the holiday that’s in two whole months?” you chuckled. He nodded. “I don’t know! I don’t have plans yet.”

“Great, let’s make some!” he smiled. You frowned. “Come on, after that I’ll be busy until the summer! Let’s just go to a movie or something.”

“A lot can happen in two months, Lando,” you explained. “And if I don’t meet the love of my life by then, I have a tradition of buying chocolate and eating it. Alone.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “If you change your mind, I’m here.”

“You can stay here then,” you scoffed. The taxi pulled up outside your apartment block, and back to your apartment you went, exhausted from the night. Happy New Year to you. 

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“No Valentine’s day date? What?” Liz cried. Agreeing to go wedding planning with her was a bad choice, noted. You were stuck in a bright, flowery, overly-scented room shop of fabrics, designs, and glassware, all of the shit you never thought you’d have to care about. 

“I’m not dying,” you sighed. “It’s a random Thursday where chocolate is either cheap and good, or expensive and good. I’ll enjoy a bath, and go to bed early. Sounds perfect to me.”

“You should call mom’s neighbour!” Liz suggested. “What’s his name?”

“No,” you sighed. “I am not going out with someone that my mother sets me up with.”

“But what about the wedding? You can’t be single at the wedding,” Liz sighed. 

“You mean the wedding that’s 8 whole months away?” 

“Exactly! What will you do?”

“I am more than happy to be single, I don’t have to share a bathroom, a bed, or a kitchen with a man,” you argued, and Liz nodded, kind of agreeing with your philosophy (your brother was a gross dude). “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some chocolate to buy.”

As you walked to the chocolate shop in the mall, you couldn’t help but think of Lando. Maybe he’d gone off with some model, or some actress. Maybe he was in Ibiza right now partying the night away with his other famous friends. Or maybe he was right outside the shop, watching you see your ex and his fiance for the first time since the break up. 

Fuck. 

You stood, watching the two of them canoodle in front of you in line, and your heart sank slightly. Great. A model. 

“Y/n?” Luc questioned, turning to you. 

“Luc,” you faked as much enthusiasm as possible, just to keep your voice from breaking. 

“How have you been?” he asked.

“Good,” you smiled, trying to sound sure of yourself. “What about you?”

“Busy,” he chuckled. “Oh, this is Nicola, my fiancé!” He introduced you to the gorgeous woman next to him. She was basically you, same hair, eye colour, build, but if you put the tiktok beauty filter on you, and turned it up to 100. 

“Fiancé?” you gawked, pretending to sound excited. 

“Nicola,” she smiled, holding out her hand to be shaken. You took it shaking it.

“Hey baby,” Lando smiled, wrapping an arm around you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, joining in beside you. “You get the stuff for the party?”

Luc and Nicola’s faces dropped in shock. 

“Yeah, babe,” you played along. “This is Lando, my boyfriend,” you turned to the two of them, smiling. 

“You didn’t tell me your college friends were in town,” he smiled. “How’s clowning going?” 

You held back a laugh, realising you had told him the story of the couple you’d met in your 3 days of clown college. It wasn’t for you, hence not being able to call your sisters’ clown friend back about a second date. 

“Oh, we’re not clowns,” she chuckled, trying to play it off as a joke.

“Oh gosh!” Lando faked embarrassment quite well. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea-”

“No, that’s alright,” Luc stopped him. “It’s lovely to you Lando-”

“Yeah, well, we’d better run, big plans tonight,” Lando interrupted, paying for your chocolate and taking your hand. “We have a flight to catch.”

“Where are you going?” Nicola questioned, but you were already being pulled out of the shop.

“Holy shit that was awful!” you cursed. “Why is it that the new girlfriend has to be younger and hotter?” 

“Here, drink this to calm yourself,” he handed you his drink, and you took a sip. 

Green juice, gross. 

“God, I’m going to be sick,” you sighed, dramatically sitting on one of the mall benches. 

“Well, usually the younger the girl, the less chance of commitment being an issue,” he explained. “Men think like that, at least, I think they do.”

“But you don’t?” you snarkily raised an eyebrow. He chuckled. 

“I try not to,” he giggled. “And anyways, it’s kind of a compliment anyways.”

“You're right!” you cheered. “Nicola is a cry for help.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe,” you sighed. “Those Guinness truffle things are pretty strong. You want one?”

“No, I'm alright, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, you’re a professional athlete.”

“Don’t say it like it’s a joke,” he scoffed. “I am.”

“You’re just being a pussy,” you shrugged. “Real athletes enjoy chocolate. Ask Lewis Hamilton.” 

“I can if you want me to,” he smirked. 

“I trust that my favourite driver enjoys chocolate, thanks though.”

“Lewis is your favourite?” he scoffed, turning to you. 

“I’m hardly going for the fucking papayas,” you chuckled. 

“Anyways, if I wasn’t such a pussy, you would still be in a fucking sweet shop talking to your ex-boyfriend and his new fiancé,” he smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “I owe you one.”

“I will take my hand job in the car park, thank you very much,” he chuckled, obviously laughing. 

“A hand job?” you scoffed. “What are we? 15?”

“You were giving out hand jobs at 15?” 

“Most of us weren’t 3 feet tall at age 15,” you teased. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

As the months went on, you blew through St. Patrick’s day and Easter, finding out about Lando’s heartbreak along the way. His ex-girlfriend Luisha and him had broken up over the simple reason of his fans hating her more than life itself. As the F1 season began, you stayed busy with work while he travelled and drove, and every now and then you’d text each other about your days, or call to catch up. 

It was nice, having someone to talk to. Lando didn’t judge you the way your family or friends did. He liked you for you, and you tolerated him for him.

The night of Cinco De Mayo came around the corner, and you had invited Lando to come to a random bar and get fucked up together. He’d just won Miami the day before, and he was riding high. You two danced, drank, and sang the night away, eventually waking up in your apartment. 

Waking up in your aparmtent, in only your bra and his boxers. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, the bright light basically blinding you, as the hangiety and headache began.

“Morning,” his voice was groggy and deep. “I guess we…”

“No way,” you sighed, pushing yourself up off the floor- how did you get there? “There’s no way we would’ve… one of us would remember.” 

“You can’t tell? You’re wearing my boxers, Y/n,” he smiled. “If we did it’s fine, right? We’re both adults, we can move past it.”

You grabbed your own panites from the floor beside you, and quickly hid behind a tall chair to change. “There’s no dried patch on my thigh, no wrapper on the floor, nothing hurts, I don’t feel strange,” you listed. “Can’t you tell?”

“I just feel like shit,” he sighed.

“Right, so we didn’t do it,” you offered. 

“Let’s go with that,” he nodded, giving you a thumbs up. 

“Coffee?” you offered. 

“Yeah, please,” he groaned, closing his eyes again. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You two went through Mother’s Day (meeting his mom and pretending to be his girlfriend was terrifying, but you kept it together), and eventually you invited him to your yearly 4th of July party at your parents lake house, but he was too busy racing in Silverstone, so he invited you (and your family) to come to the race. 

You watched as he sped down the main straight, full of anticipation. Right now, Oscar was in the lead for the WDC and McLaren was leading the WCC as they continued winning race after race. Lando really wanted this one though, he had to win his home race. 

You’d really gotten into F1 in recent months, and you had started to actually enjoy the races, not just watch  them because Lando was driving. 

You watched as he sped down the main straight, rain pouring down, this was his final flying lap, the one that would put him over Oscar, up to pole position and-

He spun out. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, shocked at the scene in front of you. The session was red flagged and everyone went back into the pits. While you watched, on the edge of your seat, as he was carried out of the car and put into a medical car. 

You sprinted down to the garage, ready to see him. You couldn’t let him get hurt while you were there, that meant you were his bad luck charm or something. You couldn’t have that. You watched as he exited the medical car, right outside the McLaren garage, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out, looking mostly unharmed.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, taking his hand. “You’re alright after that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe? I have to go get checked-”

“You need someone to go to the hospital with you,” Will interrupted. “We’re going to stay back and work on the data, you have someone?” 

Lando looked at you with wide eyes. “Ummm-”

“He does,” you nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

He gave you an appreciative smile. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“The doctor will be in shortly,” Maisie, his very annoyed nurse smiled as the both of you tried desperately to hold in your laughter. 

“Thank you,” you smiled, and as she left the room you and him burst into laughter again. You weren’t even sure you knew what you were laughing about, but that was fine with the two of you. 

In came… you mom’s neighbour? 

“Faarouq?” you questioned. “You’re in England?”

“I volunteer here,” he explained. “Flew in to reconnect this guy's finger, and now I’m just staying a few extra days since they’re understaffed.”

“Oh,” you smiled. “That’s awesome.”

You hadn’t noticed it before, but he really was lovely. He was kind, he volunteered, he was a doctor. He was great. 

Lando watched as you and he chatted and he couldn’t help but feel himself deflate. He didn’t know why, but seeing you with him made him… something. He wasn’t sure. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

No issues, all healthy, might experience some neck pain. Clean bill of health.  

You walked him up to his hotel room, his arm around your shoulder. You’d honestly had a brilliant day with Lando, the best 4th you’d ever had. 

You lay him down in his bed, handing him a glass of water. 

“Sorry for ruining your 4th,” he sighed. “You probably should’ve been with your family.”

You brushed it off. “Holidates should never leave a holidate behind,” you chuckled. “And anyways, it was a pretty fun day.” 

You put a hand on his shoulder, assuring him of your answer, and he put his hand over yours. You both felt it, looking at each other just a little bit too long for it to be platonic, but you quickly ended it, leaving as soon as you could.

He was a Holidate, nothing more. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“Our hands touched,” he told Max as they set out for a day of golfing. 

“Holy shit,” he gasped. “Did you use protection?”

Lando scoffed as Max laughed. 

“I’m telling you there was a… moment, or something,” he sighed. “I’m starting to really like her.”

“Oh shit, you’ve got to get out then,” Max turned serious. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“Mate,” he groaned. “You’re a fucking F1 driver who is trying to win a World Championship right now, do you think you’ll have all the time in the world to date someone?” “But… the weddings’ coming up- and it’s on labour day. Technically that’s a holiday.”

“You’re already in too deep, bring someone else,” Max instructed. 

“Max I can juggle two things at once-”

“Mate, you’ve worked your entire life for this, do not fuck it up for some girl!”

Lando saw the truth in what he was saying (even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear), and he sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’ll text her tonight.” 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You walked into the wedding, a sour look on your face. You date, Farrouq (your mom’s neighbour) clung to your aunt all night while Lando’s date was some super model that made you want to run and hide. 

“Hi,” he smiled, coming up to you at the bar. 

“Hi.”

“Enjoying the wedding?” 

“Yup,” you nodded. “You?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” he agreed. 

“Your date seems nice,” you mentioned. 

“She left a little while ago,” he admitted. 

“Oh shit, sorry,” you cursed. “I genuinely meant it. I didn’t see her leave-”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” he shook his head. “No harm done.”

You took a sip of your drink and looked behind you to see your aunt tounging your date, and you sighed. “Any plans for halloween?”

“I’m working on it,” he agreed. Holidates once again. 

Max would murder him. He didn’t feel too guilty about it. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

Halloween rolled around and Lando put you in a fucking pirates costume with a very tight corset, but you understood that’s what you get when you put a dude in charge of costumes. You sat with your sister at the bar, waiting for Lando to catch your eye when you felt hands around your waist. 

“Ahoy mate,” he whispered, giggling.

“Fuck!” you jumped. “You scared me!”

He laughed, then stopped when he actually looked at you. “The costume looks… amazing,” he smiled, starstruck. 

“Thanks I feel like a total slut,” you joked. 

“Well you look like one too,” Abby added. “Go get a drink or something,” you scoffed, shooing her off. You turned to Lando. “What’s the plan for tonight?” 

“Get fucked up?”

“Sounds perfect!” you smiled, then took a swig of your beer. The night went off with some dancing, some chocolate, and then in came Luc with a very pregnant Nicola. 

Pregnant. Pregnant. She was fucking pregnant. You stood there in stunned silence as everyone caught up, shocked at the fact that she was pregnant. 

“Holy fuck! She’s pregnant, pregnant!” you complained as you walked through the party, feeling increasingly sick. 

“Come on, you just need a drink,” Abby scoffed, handing you some punch. 

Your stomach turned. “No, no, I’m really sick,” you shook your head, bracing yourself against the table. 

“Are you alright?” Lando asked, holding your waist. 

“No,” you leaned into him. “Not at all.”

“Should I bring you home?” he offered. 

“I’ll just get a cab, I’m alright-”

“Holidate rule number three, never leave a date behind,” he reminded you, so you let him get in the cab with you. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

It hurt. It hurt so bad. Mixing alcohol with red dye 40 and about 50 mini candy bars was not a good idea. You whined as Lando had to physically pick you up and carry you to the lift of your aparmtnt, 

“Wait, she’s due next week right?” you did the maths in your head. “They did it on Valentine’s day!” you sobbed. 

“Everyone does it on Valentine’s day,” he reasoned. 

“I didn’t!” you screamed. 

He thought back. “Hey! I didn’t either!” 

Then the lift dinged and he dragged you in, listening as you spiralled. 

Then that awful noise. Then the awful feeling. 

“Untie me,” you said, your voice low, sober.  

“Huh?” 

“Untie me,” you instructed, gasping at the strings of your corset. 

“What- how the fuck do you untie this?” he asked, gripping at the strings. 

“I don’t know! Just untie it!” you shouted. 

“I can’t, it’s like-”

“Rip it Lando, fucking rip it!” you shouted. 

“I’m trying, it’s-”

The elevator dinged and behind the doors an old couple appeared, looking less than impressed. You realised how bad it looked, but truly, it was much worse than what they were thinking. They closed again, and up another floor they went. 

You needed to get to a toilet, now. 

You both ran to your door, him ripping off your corset at the last moment before you shut the bathroom door, and thankfully you made it, but not without sobbing crying on the toilet. Fuck your sister and her accidentally giving you laxatives. 

You sat in your bath as he held the shower head to your back. 

“Don’t even look at me,” you sighed. 

“I’m not,” he said, and he wasn’t. He was trying his absolute hardest not to look at you. Even though you’d almost actually shit yourself, even though he’d heard you sobbing crying, somehow, you were still the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen, and as much as he wanted to he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He looked back at you and smiled, when he was sure you weren’t looking. Something in his heart leaped, and he knew he should’ve been weary, but he almost didn’t care. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You sat in bed as he brought you a glass of water and you sighed. “So… I guess I’ll be a story you tell at parties now? Half of Monaco will know me as the girl who-”

“The girl who shit her pants on Halloween?” 

You groaned. “Fuck off.”

He chuckled. “I meant it when I said I’d seen worse, and don’t worry, I won't tell anyone. Promise.” 

You turned back around to face him and smiled. “Thank you.”

He offered you a soft smile, and you both fell asleep like that. 

Waking up? That was a different story. You gently opened your eyes to see a very asleep Lando. His eyes scrunched up, an arm around you, his face closer to yours than it had ever been, and you smiled. The way his nose scrunched up, the moles on his face, his long eyelashes, I mean… you knew he was gorgeous before but up close? It was practically unfair. 

Then his eyes fluttered open, and he moved his arm back, staring at you the same way you were staring at him. Again, another moment. His eyes on you, having him so close. It all drove you crazy. 

He didn’t feel much different. He was tired of this charade, pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you. Like he didn’t clear his schedule the second you’d asked him if he was free on Halloween. Then he moved closer, as if he was going to kiss you. He knew you wanted it too-

You covered your mouth with the covers. “I hate it when people kiss in the morning in movies, I think it’s disgusting,” you chuckled.

He laughed. God, you were adorable. He smiled at you for a moment, then moved your hand down, looking to you for approval. You nodded, and he kissed you. 

And it was everything you’d ever wanted in a kiss. The sparks flying, the silent feelings, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. Lando made you feel like that. He made you feel… amazing. And it was everything he’d ever wanted in a kiss too. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

You resurfaced after your soft morning sex and stood in the kitchen, both of you a little bit sweaty and tired. 

“We should probably-”

“You can go, if you want,” you offered, hoping you hadn’t said the wrong thing. Lando was a famous, rich guy, he probably had casual sex all the time. You didn’t want to be one of those crazy girls that thinks that sex ties you to a person (even thought it was more than just sex to you), so you have to let him go, right? 

He looked like a deer in headlights. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I mean, I don’t mind. I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay or anything-”

“Obligated?” he questioned. 

“Well, Halloween is over, right? Holidate ending? See you at Thanksgiving?” you joked. 

His heart broke slightly. “Right.” 

Then the doorbell rang. 

You ran over, opening it as quickly as you could, only to reveal your sister, absolutely trashed. Lando stood against the counter, sighing. How could he let himself fuck this up too? You were amazing. You were the best thing that had happened to him all year. It was ridiculous how much he looked forward to your calls and texts, how often he checked his phone just to see the ‘group photo’ of you, him, Max, and your family that he’d taken at the wedding. You, with his arms around you. Even if you two were fighting that week, you still chose to stand beside him in the photo, and let him hold you. That meant more to him than anything. He groaned, hitting his head against a cabinet. How did he fuck it all up?

“I kissed the black panther!” Abby sobbed. “I kissed the guy, at the party, dressed as the black panther!” 

“W-what?” you scoffed, holding her as she cried, sending a ‘help me’ look Lando’s way. 

“I am a terrible person!” she screamed into a pillow sobbing. 

“Morning Abby,” Lando smiled. She stopped crying and turned her attention to him. 

“Morning Land… holy shit you two had sex!” 

“We did not!” you argued. 

“We didn't?” Lando asked, his voice quieter than usual. He put down his coffee mug. 

“Oh…” Abby sighed. “I should- I should go.”

“NO! No, you- you stay! I’ll make some breakfast-” you pleaded, grabbing her hand.

“It’s alright Abby, you stay, I’ll go,” Lando nodded, grabbing the last bits of his costume. “Okay?” he looked to you, hoping against hope that you’d ask him to stay. You didn’t. “Okay.”

“Bye! See you at Thanksgiving!” 

The look he gave you as he was leaving told you he wouldn’t call you again. 

How did you always fuck everything up?

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

“Mate, she shoved me out the door,” Lando sighed, doing anything but looking over the data.

Will sighed. “She didn’t even want a cuddle?”

“Nothing! We had half a cup of coffee in blissful silence, then she kicked me out!” he groaned. “Ugh! Why is dating so hard!”

Will chuckled. “It’s alright mate, there’s plenty of other fish in the sea-”

“But they’re not Y/n! I want Y/n. I want my Y/n,” he whined. “Y’know what the last thing she said to me was? ‘See you at Thanksgiving’, like it didn’t even mean anything to her. Like I was fucking meaningless.”

“At least you’ve still got her as a Holidate-”

“I cannot do that anymore,” he admitted. “I can’t just… pretend to be in love with her when I actually am.” 

“No, mate, you’ve got to keep going with it. You just act like nothing has changed and she’ll come crawling back. It’s a foolproof idea!” ౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

God, you hated Thanksgiving. Your mother couldn’t cook, your sister was busy asking you about that guy she kissed at the party, and Lando was nowhere to be seen. As you opened the front door ready to run to the supermarket and buy an entire Thanksgiving feast, you were met with the face of Lando Norris. 

“Hi,” he smiled sadly. 

“Hi,” you smiled. “I have to run to the store so you can…”

“Great,” he nodded. “I’ll drive.” 

You had realised that in the 11 months you’d known each other, you hadn’t ever driven with him. “Not too fast, not all of us have the neck of an F1 driver,” you teased, hoping to lighten the mood. He just nodded with a reserved smile on his face. Challenge failed. 

You sat in the car as he drove (definitely over the speed limit), awkwardly wondering what to say. 

“How have you been?” he asked, his hands gripping the wheel. 

“Good, busy,” you explained. “You?” “Good. Busy,” he answered, his hands gripping the wheel even harder. You were both silent for a moment. “Are we seriously just going to pretend it never happened?”

“That works for me,” you nodded, thinking that’s what he really wanted. 

“Well, for the record, I wasn’t the one who wanted to leave that morning,” he sighed. 

“It’s not like you were asking to stay, plus, you didn’t even want to have sex with me in the first place. You’re not attracted to me, remember?” 

“Why can’t you let that go?”

“Because when a guy opens with the fact that he doesn’t find you attractive, it kind of sets the tone for the relationship-” 

“I was some random guy at the mall, what would you have said if I opened with ‘hi I think you’re insanely beautiful’?!”

You both paused for a second. 

“Y/n, come on. Everything about you is beautiful. Your smile, your personality, your humour. You would’ve never gone out with me, definitely not on New Year’s.”

You were both quiet again. 

“Does that change anything for you?” he looked at you, eyes pleading. You had to make a choice. 

“No.”Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes. Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.Yes.

Why did you have to be so good at protecting yourself? 

“Fucking hell- you’re trying so hard not to feel anything because you’re scared of getting hurt, so you’re lying to the both of us-”

“Maybe I just don’t feel the same, Lando. Not every girl will fall at your fucking feet,” you scoffed. 

“Fine. Enjoy the rest of your holidays, alone, at the kids table, blaming everyone but yourself for your problems.” 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

How did you fuck it up so badly? You walked back in. 

“Where’s Lando?” Abby asked. 

“Don’t know, don’t care.” 

“What? What did you do?” Your brother asked. 

“What makes you think it was my fault?” you scoffed. 

“You should call him, he’s a good guy,” Abby added. “You should just call and apologise.”

“Why do you think it was my fault?” 

“Well if you were honest with him we could probably get through one holiday without your personal life ruining dinner for everyone,” your mother sighed. 

“My personal life?” you scoffed. 

“Is a mess,” Abby interjected. 

“Ok, my personal life might be a perpetual mess but at least I didn’t kiss some randomer at Halloween!” you argued. 

“You fucking bitch,” she cursed.

A chorus of ‘who’, ‘what’ and ‘how’ quickly fell upon the room, until it was all drowned out by Peter, her husband. 

“You kissed someone else?”

You clapped a hand over your mouth. “I am so sorry I thought you’d told him-”

“I saw no tongue,” York, your brother added.

“You saw and didn’t tell me?” Liz questioned. 

“You can’t keep a secret,” he shrugged. 

“How would you know that, you know nothing about me!” she scoffed, getting up. 

“I trusted you!” Peter cried. “You went alone, I-I thought I could trust you-”

“I go everywhere without, a-and you never have any time for me because you’re always stressing about the kids-”

“One of us has to!” he shouted. 

Then your aunt’s date had a literal heart attack, and you were all stuck in silence as the ambulance rolled away with him inside. He would be fine, but you and your aunt went with him (not by choice) just for good measure. He was fine in the end and your aunt even met the love of her life at the hospital. 

Shittiest Thanksgiving ever. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

As Christmas rolled around and you watched the F1 season come to a close, you watched as Lando finished second in the standings, just behind Oscar. You missed him. You missed texting and calling him, you missed watching him crack bad jokes and laugh until his stomach hurt, you missed his fluffy hair and pretty face. 

You missed it all. The worst part was that he was right. You were just too afraid of being in love and putting your heart on the line, that you messed up the best thing that had ever happened to you. 

౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊౨ৎ˚₊

He walked through the same mall that he’d met you in a full year ago, and he sighed. He was empty, alone in Chicago once again, and he was done. Another chance at a WDC that he pissed away, and he was really starting to wonder if he truly had a place in the sport. Then he thought back to you, the way you liked him even without his race suit, without his money, without everything everyone else liked him for. You. He chuckled, he was probably just another Holidate to you, someone you wouldn’t even think about. 

Then he saw you as the escalators passed, and the way you looked at him gave him a glimmer of hope that he was wrong, that you did care. But you were gone in a flash and he knew he should just let it die. 

“There he was!” Abby squealed. “Go talk to him!”

“I can't, I'd just… it wouldn’t work. He hates me!” 

“Y/n, life is giving you a moment right now, take it!” 

And that’s how you ended up with a microphone in hand in the middle of a mall desperately trying to get the love of your life back. 

Thankfully, he said yes. And yes, it was videoed and put on the internet hundreds of times, too bad he’s a public figure. 

But that didn’t matter. You two were happy. 

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

a very f1 christmas! masterlist (2024)

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[pencil-n-pen]

SPILL YOUR GUTS

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

practice boyfriend! eddie x fem! reader

summary: eddie’s your practice boyfriend. you’re positive he’s upset at you and you’re waiting for him to get mad. however, he has a different response in mind.

cw: references/allusions to past child abuse but extremely vague, references/allusions to bad relationships (also pretty vague), reader acts on a learned response and assumes the worst about Eddie, anxiety

tags/tropes: angst, hurt/comfort (my brand!) sappy sappy romantic idiots, they kiss and figure their mess out at the end

a/n: this came to me in a vision

summary makes this sound smutty but i promise it’s not. this accidentally became disgustingly romantic. read at your own risk :)

࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

You’re positive Eddie’s mad at you.

Okay. Maybe positive is a strong word. But still.

You’ve only been fake/pretend/practice dating Eddie for about two weeks now. He’s the one who approached you with the offer— when you were in the Upside Down together, you’d made an off-hand comment about how you might die without ever having a real boyfriend- not one that mattered, anyway. It’s always kind of been a sore spot for you for a good portion of your life. Growing up, you didn’t really have the best relationship with your dad (Robin likes to call that “The understatement of the year, and we almost died.”) and out of the incredibly small handful of guys you’ve gone out with, none stuck around longer than a month and all ended in such equally, specifically, and uniquely horrific ways, you finally came to the conclusion you had to be fucking something up. What are the chances of all them ended so completely horribly?

After you all had decidedly not died in the Upside Down, Eddie approached you with an offer: pretend date him. You’re popular and well known enough that it’ll help get people off his back about the whole Chrissy/murders thing —even though he’s been absolved of all charges, the people of Hawkins hold grudges— and in exchange, you get a trial run of a relationship that won’t end unless you both agree too— you get to figure out what you’re doing wrong.

You feel bad about it, because even though you spend so much time together, you feel like a nervous wreck. All. The. Time.

You’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop— waiting for him to tell you that you’re too weird, that you’re not considerate enough, that you’re selfish, or that you talk too much.

But he never says any of it. All he ever tells you is the good things. He tells you how sympathetic you are, how kind you are, how good you are at remembering little details that matter. He tells you that you’re a good kisser.

(Yeah. Your first kiss, even after those failed relationships, ended up being with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. You’re not quite sure you’ll ever forget how you felt when his lips —just a little cracked, but not rough— met yours; when his hair tickled your face and you could faintly smell the cigarette smoke that stubbornly clings to all of his clothes, no matter how many times he washes them. You didn’t tell him he was your first. That’s something you decided you couldn’t bear to share.

You kind of have a feeling he knows anyway, though.)

It all sets you on edge. You’re under no reassurance that you’re perfect. You’re currently questioning if you’re tolerable, from a romantic standpoint.

You know how you are. You’re clinging and you drink up reassurance like a dying man in the desert. You linger in his casual touches like it’s the first and last time you’ll ever feel them. You know you’re a lot. You know. You know that guys in a relationship don’t want ‘a lot’, they want a pretty thing to hang off their arm and laugh at what they say.

But you just… can’t.

You tried, and you tried, and you tried. But you always ended up being too much, or it didn’t work out for some other reason. You want more. You want to feel safe, and happy, and cherished and loved and all those things that only happen in the movies.

The ironic part of all of this is that when you first started setting out terms for your arrangement, Eddie had told you flat out: “This will only work if you are completely and one-hundred percent yourself. You gotta lay it all on me, angel.”

And so you had, and now you regret it because he’s upset about something.

You’d come over to his trailer at his request to ‘hang out’ while he went over DND stuff for his next campaign. Eddie does this a lot— he calls them ‘Neutral Dates’ where you’re not really doing anything in particular- most of the time, you’re both doing seperate things, but still just being in each other’s presence.

It’s nice. The majority of your friend circle consists of everyone involved with the Upside Down and that entire mess. You two are no Steve and Robin (you’re convinced those two have the kind of bond no one can replicate or break. Like the kind of bond stray cats get and then they have to be adopted together) but it’s still nice. To just be with someone.

Even if you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.

It’s not always eggshells. Sometimes, for a a few moments, you forget. You forget it’s all pretend. You forget he’s just a friend helping a friend fulfill a goal. That’s all.

You’ve almost forgotten just now, too— you’re too concerned about what you might’ve done.

He’s not acting angry, per-se, but he’s definitely upset. You tend to pick up on this kind of thing: small changes in someone’s personality or body language. Most of the time it’s not a conscious habit.

Most of the time.

Right now, he’s run his hands through his hair about a million times. It’s become a frizzy mess behind him, and when you’d made an offhand joke about it —an attempt to lighten the mood— all he’d done was scowl. Not at you, really, but the message was there. You’d snapped your jaw shut so fast you’re pretty sure he heard your teeth click.

After that he’d frustratedly made tea for the both of you, which consisted of opening the cupboards faster than he usually did, closing them slightly louder than he usually does, and drumming his fingers impatiently on the stove-top while he waited for the kettle to boil.

All of this you observed from the corner of your eye while ‘reading’ on the couch.

And if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when you’d finally mustered up the courage to speak again, a little joke about a part in the book you were reading, all he’d said was a flat:

“That’s great, babe.”

You’re starting to get antsy. Nervous. Maybe you should go? Unless he gets upset at you leaving. That would be bad. But he’s clearly upset with you being here, so maybe you should go.

While you’re debating the pros and cons of leaving, you try to remain as still and silent as possible. No need to upset him anymore by moving too much or being too loud.

You flip a page in the book you’re no longer reading (he might notice you’re not paying attention to it anymore) and decide to test the waters again.

“The author just spelled restaurant wrong. That’s the third spelling mistake I’ve caught in this book.”

“Hmm.”

Okay. So that was worse. Talking to him is out of the question, then. It must be something you did, to warrant this kind of reaction.

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything you could’ve done in recent hours to make him upset, but you can’t think of anything.

You glance slightly to the right— not far enough that he’ll see you looking at him, but far enough to get a better look at him in your peripheral. He’s glaring down at his campaign notebook. Shit, he looks so angry.

Unbidden, tears begin to well in your eyes and you try to shift, trying to angle yourself away from him enough that he can’t see the tears in your eyes.

But your hand shifts, knocking into his leg.

Fuck. “Sorry!”

You yank you arm back as if burned, jolting back on the couch so you’re in no danger of touching him. “I’m sorry!”

He sits up, immediately snapping to attention at the desperation coloring your voice. “Woah woah, hey. Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

You take a steadying breath. “Did I do something wrong?”

He blinks blankly at you. Oh shit, you’re supposed to know that you’ve done something wrong.

“I mean,” You hurry to correct, “I know I— Can you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it?”

Understanding floods his features and you brace yourself, ready for the reprimand.

“Can I touch you?”

Now it’s your turn to stare with confusion. You nod once, briefly thinking about how weird it is to ask for permission first.

He sits up on the couch, facing you with his legs crossed, the couch springs squeaking loudly at his movement. You resist the urge to wince. He reaches out with a slow hand, taking the hand that’s still clenched, held away from him and up near your chest.

He stares down at your hand, holding it with his left hand and tracing delicate shapes on it with his right. His ringed fingers drag lines around your knuckles and veins, lingering occasionally over the odd, old scar.

“How long did you think I was upset with you?”

Your heart is racing, muscles tensed and ready to bolt. “Um. A few hours? Maybe?”

You’re hyper-aware of the grip he has on your hand, and how quickly and easy it could become crushing.

It doesn’t.

“Bug,” He says slowly after a moment. At first he used to use pet names as a joke— it was something you’d laugh at, between the two of you, since the relationship wasn’t real.

But recently, he’s been saying them with a different inflection in his tone. A little less teasing, a lot more fond.

“Have you spent the past few hours afraid that I was mad at you?”

He sounds… sad. Which is confusing. It doesn’t— he was. He was.

“But you were,” You say, suddenly unsure about anything and everything. “You were upset.”

“I was upset because I couldn’t work this part of the campaign out, and i’m dramatic. I was never mad at you, honey. I was never mad at you.”

You frown, gears turning in your head. “When I made that joke about your hair, you glared at me. And then when I tried to talk to you, you were upset. You didn’t want to talk.”

“I was jokingly glaring at you, I’m so sorry you thought I was serious. I wasn’t, I promise. I didn’t mean to be dismissive, I was really focusing on writing.”

You’re both silent for a moment. A beat too long. You want to squirm in the unwelcome space the silence has created.

“What did you think I was going to do?”

That is a loaded question.

“I don’t know,” You pick at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I don’t— I don’t know. That’s the problem. You don’t yell at me, or get angry, or tell me when i’ve made you upset. I don’t know what you’ll do.”

He makes a wounded noise in his throat.

“I know you get angry,” You bulldoze on, “I’ve seen it. You’re so… loud, in everything you do. I know you get angry. But you never get that same kind of loud angry at me and I don’t know what to do because that means that I upset you and you don’t tell me about it and then I don’t know how to fix it. I have to fix it, Eddie.”

His eyes, deep and brown, search your face. He reaches up a hand, painfully slow, to cup your face. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you tip your head to the side, leaning into the job.

“I’m gonna tell you something, Bug. Are you listening?” He waits for you to hum in confirmation before continuing. “You’re not responsible for my moods. Or anyone else’s for that matter. That’s not your job. You don’t have to fix it.”

He reaches his second hand up to cup the other side of your face. “You know why I don’t get angry at you? Not all loud and dramatic like that? Because I’ve seen how you react when people do. And I never, ever want to be the reason you get that look in your eye. I never want to make you afraid. I never want you to believe, with proof and confidence, that I’ve grown sick of you.”

You open your eyes, eyes darting across the planes of his face. Searching for even the smallest hint, the smallest giveaway that he might be lying.

You can’t find any. In its place, you find eyes, shining with pure determination. You find lips parted ever so slightly, a sad-sort of smile being etched into being. You find two hands on your face, thumbs delicately sweeping across the skin of your under-eye, of your cheekbone. Smoothing away the steady tears that had begun falling, wiping away the hot trails they leave on your face.

And you realize all at once that love isn’t like the movies. It isn’t picture-perfect kisses. It isn’t ball gowns and dresses and kisses in the rain. It isn’t like the love you thought you were supposed to have: empty and hollow; a life of hanging off of arms and praying your next slip-up didn’t cost you your relationship.

It was this.

It was just being. Just being and knowing the other person is there for just that— for you. It was not raising your voice. It was carrying extra hair-ties. It was making two cups of coffee. It was steeping tea for an extra couple of minutes, just the way he liked it. It was playing your favorite music in the car, and looking over at each other during the bridge, belting the lyrics with the same, toothy-smile. So full and so happy you just keep screaming the lyrics, because you’re filled with so much you don’t know where to put it all.

Your tears begin to fall in earnest now. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but for a different reason now. You’re struck with the need to convey all of this to him— to tell him you understand, you know, you feel the same.

“These hair ties,” You shove your wrist up to his eye-line. “They’re for you. Because you always forget your own. And— and I steep the tea for a few extra minutes, because you like your tea strong, and you didn’t just find that tape in your van, I bought it ‘cause I know you lost the old one in the Upside Down, ‘cause it felt out of your pocket.”

You’re babbling, nearly choking on your tears and your words, rushing them all out of your mouth in an aching wish to be understood, in this very moment.

“I know,” He says, voice a little hysteric and eyes a little too bright. His lip wobbles. He presses your face tighter in his hands. “I know. I know. I see you. I see you.”

You stay like that for a little while. At some point, your hands find his wrists, and then you’re just two fools, smiling like idiots with tears streaming down your faces, staring into each others eyes.

Eventually, Eddie clears his throat. “The next time you think I’m upset at you, you tell me, okay? You can ask. You can ask me and I pinky promise I won’t get mad.”

You giggle wetly. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” He says, taking his left hand away from your face to hold up his pinky. You intertwine yours and his together, the both of you laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

He gets quiet for a moment; removes his hands from your face and instead clasps, your hands together, resting in your lap.

“You know why I never tell you when you’re being a bad practice girlfriend?” He says, his voice low and soft.

“How come?”

He smiles, full and good. “Because you’re not. You’re so sweet and kind and loving. And if you’d let me, I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

You furrow your brows. “The real kind? The I-love-you kind?”

Your face flushes over the words ‘I love you.’

“I’ve always kissed you for real,” He says, words laden with fondness. “Ever since the day we met and you slapped the shit out of me for being stupid. I’ve been hopelessly obsessed ever since. I’ve just been waiting for you to notice.”

You suck in a breath. “So all of this— the, the dates and the hanging out and the kissing— that’s all been real?”

“Every last bit.”

“Then in that case,” You say, squeezing his hands. “I would very much like you to kiss me.”

He leans in, slotting your lips together and everything just clicks. Like this is where you’re meant to be. Maybe it’s puppy love. Maybe it’s not.

All you know is that Eddie Munson is kissing you for real, and he always has been. You couldn’t ask for anything better.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch5. child's play

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 5/x

ᰔ words. 4.8k

a/n. helloo my ihm friends! long time no see. hope you're all doing well and thank you so much to everyone who sent me kind messages about the whole ihm gojo ex wife thing haha. i really appreciate it :) i feel more confident about my writing decisions now, and that's all thanks to you guys! anyways, i will be posting shorter chapters for ihm going forward, so sorry if some chapters have slightly abrupt endings or stuff like that. i guess my goal is to post shorter chapters but more frequently! we'll see how it works out. anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and see you at the bottom!!

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Ever since admitting your mother into hospice, things have been calmer inside your mind. After passing the initial wave of agony that came with no longer hearing her voice down the hall or seeing her silhouette in her bedroom as you walked past it, you realized that…a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. No longer setting alarms at the height of every other hour to remind your mother to take her medication, no longer viewing every interaction you had with her as some form of study you needed to jot down in a binder for her neurologist’s records, and no longer driving her to all of her chemotherapy appointments, only to leave them feeling like you purposefully just took your mother to a place where they sucked all the life out of her in exchange for the slim promise of giving it all back to her someday.

Maybe it was evident in the way your shoulders felt less tense as you rolled them back, tilting your neck to the side and no longer feeling the painful strain that tugs a wince onto your face. The other day, you caught yourself humming a song as you drove to work. Your skin, usually feeling cracked and dry from stress and exhaustion, now has a slight plumpness to it like before. A more youthful glow, like the version of yourself you were before your mother became sick. The version of you that so quickly deteriorated, and one you didn’t even know still existed somewhere within you. 

There has also been time for hobbies. Rarest of occasions, you find yourself sauteing some yellow and white peaches in a saucepan over medium heat in Gojo’s kitchen, humming that song once again that’s been stuck in your head. The sundress you’re wearing matches the pink of the syrup that pools at the bottom of the pan, and you feel like you’re living your cottage core dreams in this brief moment of reprieve you’ve allowed yourself to fall into.

The sound of slippers tapping down onto the hardwood floor startles you out of your gleeful trance, and you turn your neck to the right to see a pajama-clad messy-haired Gojo shuffling his feet across the open area into the kitchen with a dark black mug in his hand.

“Why aren’t you dressed??” you ask him in a panic.

“I’ll get dressed later,” he tells you dismissively as he grabs the glass pitcher of coffee from where the coffee machine was nestled up against one of the counter corners.

“You’re stressing me out. Your mom told us to be there in two hours,” you say, putting your hands on your hips in disapproval as you hear the sizzle of the peaches in the saucepan. 

He entirely ignores you, choosing to instead drag his gaze down the form of your body. “Woooow, twice this month I get to see you in a cute dress,” he comments, pouring coffee into his mug but his eyes are still on you, “lucky me.”

“Oh Shut. Up,” you sneer at him with a harsh roll of your eyes, “your fake flattery might work on the lonely middle-aged women you seduce to make a living, but it won’t work on me.”

His shoulders push back before he slumps them slightly, his brow lifting with confusion. “It’s not fake though? I mean it. You look really nice right now.”

You point an accusatory sugar-syrup coated wooden spatula at him. “You’ve just been conditioned by the patriarchy to get a boner at the sight of a woman in a kitchen.”

“What–...no–...why do you always have to say stuff like that whenever I compliment you? Can’t you just accept it?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be flattered by an insolent man like you.”

He sighs, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, and you watch the way the fringe of his hair hangs over his forehead as he gazes into the contents, swirling it around with a loose grip on the handle. “Is this how it’s going to be everyday? I try to be nice, and you–...well, you know, are you.”

“Well who else should I be?”

His eyes lift up to meet yours, the slightest of a cheeky grin on his face as his eyes wander down the form of you again. “I don’t know. Someone a little…softer? Like, you’ve got this really pretty dress on, and then you’re telling me off about patriarchy-induced boners. It’s a little, uh, contradictory?”

You gasp. “You’re trying to control me. I knew it. You are poisoned by the patriarchy.”

“What?”

Your eyes narrow at him. “You have this image of a perfect and cute little wife, who’s gonna wear pretty dresses all the time, and bake stuff in the kitchen, and get all blushy when you tell her she looks beautiful, and you expect her to have this soft little personality that never argues with you or disagrees with you…ALL BECAUSE OF THE PATRIARCHY!!!”

“...I–...Okay, you’ve lost me.”

You let out a hmph! noise. “Can’t even discern his own brainwashing. Sad.”

“All of this just because I tried to tell you that you look nice?”

“I know what your ulterior motives are, you creep.”

His eyes spark a little at that, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a cheeky grin as he sets the coffee mug down onto the marble counter and he straightens his spine. You blink, watching with confusion as he crosses the distance between the two of you, to where you’re taking a small few steps backwards until your lower back presses against the edge of the island countertop. He cages you into the surface with his frame, followed by the palms of his hands sliding over the marble on both sides of you, and you feel his forearms press against the curve of your waist as he traps you in with no way out.

“S-Satoru,” you stutter, looking up at him with wide eyes, “what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he says, his voice deeper with a nonchalance that has you shiver, his gaze dropping to your lips when you part them slightly.

“T-The patriar–” you squeak out, but he suddenly dips his head down to kiss you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes immediately closing when he moves his lips against yours, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him and your hesitation is something that only lasts a brief second before you find yourself kissing him back. Some noise leaves his throat, deep and raw and sounding pleasantly surprised as he captures your lips more fervidly now, his hands smoothing down to hold your hips and his teeth slightly nip at your bottom lip. 

You grab a fistful of his shirt, unsure of whether you want to pull him closer to you or push him away, but the moan that you mumble against his lips only makes his grip on your hips even stronger, fingers digging into the softness through the thin fabric of your dress. 

The oven suddenly starts beeping, startling you and you pull away from the kiss with a gasp, eyes rounded as you look up at him, but his are lidded and dilated as his gaze remains glued to your lips. 

With a heaving chest, you try to push him away by a weak fist to his sternum but he’s unrelenting.

“You taste sweet,” he says, like some comment he noted in his head but accidentally voiced out loud.

“I–...” you inhale sharply, “I just ate three macerated peaches.”

“Uh-huh,” he barely acknowledges before leaning in to get another taste, but you push him away harsher this time.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, finally breaking out of that kiss-induced trance he was in, but he still remains close to you in proximity, so much so to where you can feel the heat from his body. It’s comforting almost, radiating through the soft cotton of his long sleeve shirt, and you find yourself subconsciously leaning towards him before you snap out of it too, and rock your weight back against the island countertop.

You cross your arms over your chest, hoping the flush to your cheeks isn’t showing. “Oh okay so we just casually kiss now?”

He shoves his hands into his plaid pajama pant pockets, leaning away from you slightly. “For as long as I can get away with it, yeah.”

“You are breaking the rules.”

“You never said no kissing.”

“I said no touching.”

“Ehhh kissing isn’t really touching, though, is it?”

“You sound stupid.”

“I always sound stupid to you.”

The oven starts beeping again, and you realize it’s long been preheated to the setting you had placed earlier. You slip away from him with haste, feeling his gaze on you as you press a button on the oven to turn the alarm off, and you stare at the handle for a moment or two to calm the beating of your heart down. 

Your eyes catch sight of something on the side of the fridge. A little magnet made of rubber that has the word London on it as well as the design of the Westminster Cathedral with golden accents. You recall that Gojo went on a trip to London recently, and that he didn’t bring you back any souvenirs from there like he did for your other neighbors. And you want to pretend, you want to shove it down, that incessantly childish feeling that wonders why he didn’t bring you anything back. You want to continue to pretend like it doesn’t hurt your feelings. Something so miniscule and small. But you–...well, you can’t.

You spin around to face him. “Do you hate me?” you bluntly ask.

He blinks at you. “Huh?”

“Do you, what, I don’t know, think I’m annoying or something?”

He shrugs with his hands still in his pockets. “I mean, yeah, I do think you’re annoying sometimes. But in a silly way. Like we’re just pals horsin’ around, y’know?”

You snarl at him, putting your hands on your hips and narrowing your gaze until he’s hardly even visible anymore. “No. I actually find you annoying. Like, wanna-run-you-over-with-a-bus annoying. You just have horrendous social awareness and think that everyone loves you.”

“You actually don’t like me?” he asks, like he can’t even believe that someone wouldn’t.

“Yes,” you say, “now get out of my way.” You make an attempt to push past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder into him to assert dominance but he is unfortunately much bigger than you and so all it does is make you stumble ungracefully from the recoil.

He quickly grabs your arm to steady you, and you glare up at him before yanking yourself away and then step backwards until your back hits the fridge.

He studies your demeanor for a second before taking a deep inhale, and then lets it all go in a heaving sigh. “What do I have to do to get you to lighten up a bit?” he asks.

“You really want to know?” you sneer at him.

“Yes,” he says with a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

You cross your arms. “Pay for the fucking fence.”

He blinks at you, confusion replacing whatever frustration was previously decorating his tone. “What?”

“The fence,” you reiterate with a step forwards towards him, “the one I built six months ago. The one where you laughed in my face when I told you to help pay for it.”

He leans forward. “Yeah. Because I never wanted that fence built. Like I said, it fucked up the roots on my avocado tree. You should’ve asked me before building it. In fact, it’s illegal to build a fence without joint consent of both neighboring property owne–”

“Oh my god, okay, see? This is why I can’t stand you,” you snarl at him and make another move to get past him but he easily steps in front of you to keep you from going anywhere.

With a sigh, he relents. “Fine, I’ll pay for the fence.”

You try to keep the twitching muscles of your face still as you resolutely stare up at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. Through a strained tone, you say, “No. I don’t want you to pay for it anymore.”

He lifts a brow, utterly bewildered at this point. “Huh?”

“Now it just feels like pity. And I don’t want your pity money.”

“Two seconds ago, you did.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That was two seconds ago.”

“So…let me get this straight, you don’t want me to pitch in?”

“No. I want you to have wanted to pitch in SIX MONTHS AGO.”

“Okay but what the fuck am I supposed to do about that now?”

“NOTHING!!!” you finally snap at him, the shrill to your voice startling him slightly to where you see his shoulders jump, and his eyes are now rounded blue as he looks at you. “There’s nothing you can do about it, there’s nothing you can do to get me to ‘lighten up’ or ‘act softer’ or whatever the fuck kind of damage control you aim to achieve with me due to your pestering incessant need to be liked by every fucking person you come across. So just deal with the fact that I hate you and let me do it in peace.”

He’s silent for what feels like a long time as he blinks at you, his bottom lip pushing up slightly in a way that suggests he’s almost impressed by your little outburst, then he takes a step forward, and in that one large stride, he’s closed any distance between the two of you. Your back is up against the frigid steel of the fridge, your heels tucked under the warm rubber at the foot of it, and you’re looking up at Gojo as he towers over you, his hands still annoyingly and relaxedly shoved into his pockets.

“Do you think it’s gonna be a problem that I think you’re kinda hot when you’re mad?” he asks you.

A small puff of air leaves your lips, like you just can’t believe the audacity, but also having him this close to you suddenly made it a little harder to breathe. “C–...Can you just be fucking serious for one second?”

His head dips down, the fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, tip of his nose slightly brushing against yours, but his gaze never falls to your lips. “You think I’m not being stupid fuckin’ serious when I say that you’re hot?”

“S–” your breath hitches in your throat, and his gaze finally falls to the lick you pass over your lips, “Satoru–”

Like God himself answered to your (cognitively dissonant) prayers, the bell rings, and Gojo leans himself away from you, straightening his spine so he can glance over his shoulder towards the door, a slight look of irritation on his face through the furrow of his brow.

You blink up at him. “A–...Are you expecting someone?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “No. Don’t think so.” He sighs before shuffling around the kitchen island and across the dining hall towards the entryway of the house, and you peer at the sight from across the hall.

When he opens the door, you see Sana standing outside, dressed in mom jeans and a t-shirt with her black Coach purse slung around her shoulder, arms crossed, and you barely register the fact that she looks pissed.

“Sana?” Gojo says, “what’s up.”

She entirely ignores him when she catches sight of you, pushing right past him and into the family room that you were currently finding solace in.

“You,” she points at you, storming right up to your personal space, “what the hell did you say to Juno when you were babysitting her?!”

“H-Huh??” you squeak out, taking a step backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“You told her to fight kids at school?!” she snarls at you, and your eyes widen.

“What?” you say, your face twisting with confusion, “I–...I never said that. I just said that she should stand up for herself if she needs to.”

Sana inhales deeply with rage, leaning back and jutting her hip out as she crosses her arms again. “Yeah, well, I had to pick her up early from school today because the principal called and told me she shoved a little girl on the playground during recess, and now she’s facing suspension.”

Gojo approaches suddenly from your periphery, standing in front of you as he faces Sana. You stand on your tiptoes to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why would Juno do something like that?

You hear Sana start to tap her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, and then she turns her head away from Gojo as a slight hmph! noise leaves her throat. “The why is irrelevant.”

You poke your head out from behind Gojo and glare at her, but then Gojo turns around suddenly to look at you.

“y/n,” he says, “what’s going on?”

“I–” you start, glancing at Sana again who now has a solemn look on her face with pursed lips. You glance back at Gojo, who’s looking at you with confusion and anticipation. A heat spreads down your neck from the attention of the both of them on you, and you’re not sure what the smart thing to say is, so you figure you’ll just tell the truth as it is. “...I just didn’t want her getting bullied and thinking she can’t stick up for herself.”

At that, you see Gojo’s shoulders stiffen. “Bullied?” he repeats after you, then quickly turns towards Sana, “what does she mean, bullied? Juno’s getting bullied at school?”

Sana faces him full-on, raising a stern pointed finger between the two of them “No. Satoru. Stop. You always do this. This has nothing to do with you, so don’t even start. It’s not a big deal, let’s not make it one.”

“The fuck do you mean it’s not a big deal? She’s getting bullied at school, and you want her to just suck it up?” he asks, venom dripping from his tone. 

“It’s for her benefit!” Sana exclaims. “Jun and I have spent months trying to get her into this school! We don’t want her getting kicked out.”

“Y’know, I’m–” you stutter, “I’m gonna–...I’m just gonna go upstairs,” you say, “this seems like a family matter. I think you guys should probably just settle this on your ow–”

“No,” Gojo says, pointing to the couch that you were standing in front of, “sit down.”

You sit.

Gojo turns to face Sana again, and although you can’t see his face, you imagine he’s pissed off from the way Sana’s shoulders drop slightly and her sharp expression is cut into a more sheepish one.

“Who cares if Juno is suspended for sticking up for herself? It’s the teachers’ fault for not making sure she’s safe,” he says.

“Shoving other kids is not the solution.”

“Well if you fuck around, then you find out. Kids are too soft these days.”

“This is not the 90s, Satoru.”

You watch the back and forth between the two of them for the better part of an entire minute, feeling uneasy in the hostile environment of the room, but there’s a sense of underlying familiarity between the two, one that is recognizable amongst family. And you feel rather foreign, but then remember that, technically speaking, now that you’re married to Gojo, this is your family too.

Amongst the arguing of the adults, none of you noticed that Juno had gotten out of the car in the driveway and was now standing in the doorframe of the front entrance. She looks scared and guilty, fidgeting with her fingers in front of her, and you notice her scrapes and bruises that you tended to last week were now mostly healed. 

Gojo catches sight of her, and you see his shoulders relax. “Juno, c’mere.”

With the permission, she instantly runs towards him and into his arms from where he was crouched down to the floor in order to welcome her, and then she starts sobbing.

“I’m–hic,” she cries, “I’m so–hic–I’m so sowwyyy Uncle Toru…I’m–hic–I’m sorry mommyyyy.” 

You see Sana sigh and she makes a move to brush Juno’s tear-dampened hair out of her face when Gojo pulls her away from his shoulder by a delicate hold of her bony little shoulders.

“Juno. Listen. If people are being mean to you, then you do exactly as your auntie y/n said. You stand up for yourself. And if that doesn’t work, then you cuss at them and threaten to shove their faces into the dirt until they run away with their tails between their legs. Do you understand me?” Gojo tells her.

Sana gives you a pointed look.

“Oh, I–” you put your hands up in front of you, “I didn’t say any of that last part.”

“Do you understand me?” Gojo repeats again, and Juno nods her head slowly before she falls back into him and soaks his shirt with tears. “I’m soowwwwwyyyyyy.”

Gojo pats her back a few times to comfort her, and your heart breaks for the little girl. It’s bad enough to be bullied at school, but then to be reprimanded by your mother the one time you stand up for yourself…you can imagine how emotionally exhausting that would be for a five-year-old. 

Juno sniffles, rubbing her snot all over the cotton of Gojo’s shirt, and then pulls her face away to rub at her eye with a weakly closed fist. “I–hic–I just…I just wanted him to feel–hic–the same hurt.”

“Huh? Who?” Gojo asks.

“The boy,” Juno says, “the one that shoved me today.”

“It was a boy?!?!?!” Gojo yells. “Alright. That’s it. I’m grabbing my bat.”

“Satoru.” Sana deadpans.

Sana and Gojo continue to bicker about the ethics of threatening five-year-old boys with baseball bats, going back and forth about how Gojo wasn’t actually going to do anything but just wanted to instill fear (he’s lying), while Sana isn’t exactly sold on a single pacifist thing that he says, and you sigh, because you realize you’ve become invested in one of, what you feel like will become many, of their family quarrels.

Juno sneaks around Gojo’s legs and comes up to you while the arguing is taking place in the background, and she gently taps your knee as you’re seated on the couch. “Auntie y/n,” she whispers.

You rub an eye crustie from her face and then hold her hand in yours. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm? For what?”

She smiles at you, her cheeks pink and flush from crying but rounded now in glee. “My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that, sweetheart?”

Why wouldn’t Sana and Jun be on normal talking terms? What does Juno mean that it’s been a long time? What exactly was going on at home?

“Juno,” Sana’s voice interrupts your thoughts, her arms crossed across her chest, “c’mon. Let’s go.” She points a stern finger at Gojo. “Seriously. I mean it. No baseball bats or rodent traps involved. I’ll talk to the teachers and sort something out.” She glances at you, that strict look on her face now dissolving into one of pure exhaustion. One you can imagine only a mother can face. “See you later at dinner, you two.”

Juno runs up to her mom and grabs onto her outreached hand, and you see Gojo ruffle her hair as she walks past him, her giggles ringing in the air, and then he sees them out the door. 

The air is awkward, at least to you, the second he closes the door, and when he turns around to face you, your body stiffens up.

He leans back onto the front door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks,” he says, “for telling Juno to stick up for herself.”

You blink at him. “Well. I don’t feel too great about it at the moment, to be honest.”

He sighs. “I just think that Jun and Sana are raising her to be…kinda meek. I wish they’d teach her to be more confident and take up space.”

“Mhm,” you nod. Because you agree. Little girls need to learn how to be that way at a young age, because the world is seldom very kind to them.

“Well, what you said to her is what I would’ve said to her anyways,” he says.

You roll your eyes, standing up from the couch and heading back into the kitchen to presume your work on your peach cobbler. “I never told her to shove kids’ faces into the dirt. But, uh, sure, I guess so.”

You see Gojo enter the kitchen too in your periphery, but you don’t give him any glance or look or attention. From what you can see as you stir around your macerated peaches in a Pyrex bowl, he’s leaning against the island counter about three feet away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s watching you. A slight warmth radiates in your cheeks, but you attempt to ignore the nerves by being hypnotized by the pink syrup that pools at the bottom of the bowl.

My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.

An unsettling feeling takes over your senses. It could be the past few years you’ve spent walking on eggshells around your mother, or the way you’ve become so keen to her energy as a way of staying on top of any shift in her symptoms, any single sign of disease progression, any clue that she wasn’t getting better. Any clue that she wasn’t doing okay. And you feel a sense of dread, because that skill, you realize, has now made you aware of similar circumstances in the people around you.

Not to mention, you are a child of divorce. You know what that fear feels like.

You just want to know if Juno feels safe at home.

“Hey, um…” you start, turning slightly to finally face Gojo, your eyes hesitantly flickering up to meet his gaze, “when was the last time you saw your brother-in-law? And with Sana?”

He raises a brow at you. “I just saw them last weekend for one of Juno’s dance recitals.”

“Ah…I see,” you say. You purse your lips together. 

Right. Kids say things all the time. They believe in Santa Claus and think that blueberry pancakes are called blubbery pancakes. And they sometimes read too into things, and they sometimes read too little. Surely, things must be okay. Maybe Sana and Jun had had a little argument with some stubbornly thawing cold shoulders, a demeanor that was noticed by their child, and now things have resumed to normal. That was normal. Part of every family. “That’s good to know…” 

You turn away from Gojo to stare back down into the bowl of macerated peaches again. With a furrowed brow, you close your eyes tightly to try to shake the chilly feeling in your bones, and you feel better when you open them again. The slightly numb sensation in your hand dissipates and you have enough dexterity to mix the peaches around in the bowl.

“I wonder what news they want to share with us over dinner,” you say, to quell the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Gojo hums, and you see him turn around face the counter now, hovering over the bowl of raw crumble topping you had mixed together, prodding at it with the wooden spoon. “Oh, they’re moving.”

Your head snaps to look at him. “W-What?”

“Yeah,” he nonchalantly affirms, scooping up a spoonful of the crumble. “They wanted to up-size, and move a little closer to the school that Juno’s at. I found them a nice place about an hour from here on the outskirts of the city. They just signed the papers a couple weeks ago.” And then he shoves the spoon into his mouth.

“Oh…wow,” you say. “Okay…”

“Damn,” Gojo says with surprise laced in his tone, "this is really good.” He’s staring into the bowl in awe and then scoops up some more crumble with a spoon.

You blink at him, irritated that he’s eating all your ingredients without even asking, and before you’ve even finished your dessert. It’s like he was born to piss you off.

You walk up to him and yank the bowl away, “Gimme that.” Then you pull it into the divot of your waist possessively and glare at him. 

He sighs, and then says something out loud that you’re sure he meant to keep in his head:

“I’ll get used to it.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 5]

a/n. it feels so strange to post such a short chapter bahaha hopefully the ending isn't too abrupt. but hope you enjoyed! i'm so sorry ab the slow burn in this series aaa but i can try to assure you that it'll all be worth it hopefully lol i'm really excited for what i have planned for this series!! alsooo sorry if there are errors or anything, i'm trying to spend less time editing since it really stalls me n leads to writer's block lol. hope to see you in the next one :) much love! - ellie

➸ take me to chapter six!

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@bloopsstuff @bbyxxm @yungbloode @elloredef @spriteshawtyy

@joemama-2 @luniunia @4y3sh4 @ironhottubstranger @lushafterglow

@hermizery @manyno @idiot-juice-enthusiast @fairyflorasworld @teramisuyhin

@mmeerraa @bnha-free-writing @xenop0p @spaghettinewt @pngjpn

@anniegojo @rirk-ke @chiyokoemilia @higurumapet @pickuptruck01

@electrckchild @vi-ola666 @arishaxml @lavender-hvze @starmapz

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@ricaliscious @satxoru @oyaoya-bungeegum @satowooo @samistars

@ifartmangos @andeverden @13-09-01 @lindyloomoo @tvdumarvelhpsimp

note. going foward, i will be tagging only interacts because i want to make sure i'm tagging active readers! so taglist may change every chapter. i'm also getting rid of the extended taglist bc it's too much work for me lol, so only 50 tags per chapter. i'd recommend subscribing to the fic on my ao3 so you can get email notifs :) but as always let me know if/when your taglist preferences change; please do not ask me/pressure me for updates or ask me when i am going to next update (read rules)

taglist is closed

[visibleclosedeyes]

Gap in my heart (Literally)

pairing: Mr. Gap x reader

“Hello”

While you prepare to work in your bedroom–doing your makeup and hair, putting on your uniform–ready for the day ahead, a chilling but familiar voice calls you. 

“Mr. Gap? Uh. Me not play,” You said without turning your head toward the voice. Since the day you managed to get out of that  Otherworld, Mr.Gap has consistently shown up in your space in the gap in the wall, in different containers, and so forth. At this point, you kinda have a domestic relationship together. Boyfriend? You wouldn’t go that far, but something is there. 

“Disappointed” Mr. Gap narrowed his eyes before asking another question 

“Where go?”

“Same place every day, Mr. Gap. Working. uh–Me work, same work.”

“Why?” He asks, eyes still narrowed–displaying an unreadable expression that you guess to be some kind of discontentment. It surprised you really–Mr. Gap isn’t a high-maintenance type and he never asked you these questions before. What changed?

“Uh…Work hunger gone,”

“Work stop hunger?” He seems interested now. 

“Not exactly. Work gives things, and things get food.” You try again to explain to Mr. Gap the concept of monetary exchange and bill to the best of your ability. 

“....not understand, residents don’t need work. Why work?”

“Humans need work, me human…Mr. Gap, why curious now?” You ask a question of your own. 

“Me bored, Stay,” 

“Can’t. Need work,”

“Disappointed” He responds, the conversation sounds like it goes back to the very beginning. 

“Give finger?”

“No,”

“Disappointed” He repeats yet again before disappearing. 

Working is hard. Living in the human world is hard. You know this already but it seems like every day her co-workers really remind her of that fact. Today is just another day of demoralizing work days. Getting yelled at by your boss because of your co-worker's mistake is not fun. In the parking lot, you are sitting there with a cigarette between your fingers contemplating whether or not to murder your co-worker, literally speaking. Suddenly between the gap in the wall opposite to you, a familiar pair of eyes pop up.

“Hello”

“Mr. Gap??! How did you..? Oh right, you can show up in any gap,”

“Human trouble?”

“Its nothing, just hard day at work,”

“Me solve problem, give me finger,”

“What? No! Not give finger,”

“Boring. Goodbye,”

Almost every day was the same old same old—your co-worker is an annoying asshole who purposefully caused issues just so he could blame it on you.

“Where are the documents the boss asked you to do?” Speaks of the devil… the most annoying face among the co-workers in this shitshow of a company has shown up like a fucking ghost the moment she starts thinking about her job

“What? What documents?” She answers truthfully. What fucking documents? And why is she hearing this just now?

“Seriously, the boss wants you to be the one to do it. you’re seriously irresponsible. Why did they even hire you?” He said with such a fake shocked expression on his face. Wait, so the boss told him…

"Boss told you this and you never told me?” she asked him in disbelief

"You never ask me to tell you, you should have been more active,” He snickers with a smug smile. Oh, this irritating fucker.

2 months and 1 week. She has sworn off killing people for exactly two months. Like a proud ex-addict, she wears that pride quietly on her mind, unable to announce how prideful she is for not killing some random pedestrians who show up in an abandoned apartment. She wants to keep it that way, but this man seems to be testing her patience. She is going to lose it and kill this guy on his way home. 

"There is still time left. You can take responsibility and be active for once. Give me a call once you are finished!”

your palms curl into a fist full of hate and rage–this man has no idea who he is up against. She fantasizes about the different ways she would go about killing him. Her regular method of a crowbar to the head would be the safest route but this guy is a piece of shit to her so far and she wants to do something special for him.

No, she doesn't want to kill these days. Hunting and killing seems to be a hobby she lost interest in a while ago. Now, she simply wishes for a more simple life after all those lives she proudly took. 

(not finish)

One day, when she was working as per usual–she hears the sound of that asshole screaming from the restroom

"I swear! I saw it there! a pair of creepy eyes between the crack in the wall inside the male restroom!”

"some pervert looking into the male toilet?”

"No! I…I don't think it's human–when I saw it, it just disappeared into thin air!”

"I think you should go see a doctor”

“Yeah, are you I'll or something? Did you hear a voice in your head too?”

“S–shut up! Stop mocking me! I fucking saw it, Ok?!” 

It seems like vacation comes to visit you early this year as she hears one of the best but most shocking of all week. Her asshole co-worker has decided to quit, it also seems like he has been scared shitless and borderline losing his mind at something that most people don't seem to understand. Many think that he cracked under constant pressure but she has a better idea of what might have happened. She didn’t think to ask of him at this current time but it seemed like he could read her mind somehow when she found him manifesting in her bag, a pair of gleeful, teasing eyes with an otherworldly smile somehow made her heart skip beats. 

“Mr.Gap!”

“Hello. Me good resident.” 

“I heard about the haunting spirit between the wall’s gap in the male bathroom—did you do it? The guy who tormented me quit”

“Me solve problems, me good resident,”

“Yeah, that was a good one. Good, thank you”

“Give good resident finger?”

“No”

“Disappointed”

[softanddreamyhours]

🌷 enhypen fic recommendations 🌷

okay i didn't add word counts !! sorry !! i only realized rn and i'm way to lazy to go and add them oops, some are long and some are short (it can be a nice surprise when you open the links)

lee heeseung strawberries and cigarettes - @chaconnenha heeseung x fem!reader, fluff, kinda suggestive (they kiss), badboy!heeseung ?? (he smokes) goodgirl!reader ?? (she doesn't smoke) this one gave me butterflies haha, super cute

nevertheless - @palajae idol!heeseung x gn!reader, fluff, crack maybe? (i thought it was funny) idk man this made me laugh out loud and it was also super cute

i don't want to be your roommate, i want to kiss your neck - @taeghi heeseung x fem!reader, fluff, angst (only a little), smut, best friends brother. yup i love lee heeseung and this made me go slightly feral

park jongseong no limits - @yeonzzzn jay x fem!reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut. i loved this so much, like it felt real yk i can picture dear jay owning a restaurant.

teddy bear - @okwonyo jay x fem!reader, fluff, established relationship. this one made me feel so warm i just want someone to call me princess and take care of me

sim jaeyun act now, think later - @sankyeom jake x fem!reader, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, down bad jake. guys this was so cute i was giggling and shit

erotic empathy - @simpjaes jake x fem!reader, fluff (maybe lol), smut, strangers to ?? jakes a virgin and reader makes him one no longer, idk i love loser boys

park sunghoon unsteady - @yeonzzzn sunghoon x fem!reader, exes to ?? angst, fluff, cheating? (not sunghoon tho) this was a bit sad but ended happy :)

ceo sunghoon - @hottestvirgin ceo!sunghoon x fem!collegestudent reader, fluff, smut, age gap. loved this so much, i would do literally anything for this man

kim sunoo mint choco hater - @sanrikis sunoo x fem!reader, strangers (?) to lovers (?), fluff. i actually love mint chocolate as a flavor so i cannot relate to this, but it was still so cute

misfit - @palajae sunoo x gn!reader, hogwarts au, hufflepuff!sunoo, slytherin!reader, fluff, strangers to lovers. i love harry potter and i love enhypen so yeah i loved this

yang jangwon kiss and no makeup - @soov jangwon x fem!reader, fluff, established relationship. jungwon is so cute and this is so cute and fluffy

kiss cam - @jaeyunverse jangwon x fem!reader, fluff, soooo much fluff, enemies(?) to lovers. um this was so cute and yes i know i say that for every fic but this was so cute :(

nishimura riki best friends can kiss, right? - @riki-dazed niki x reader, fluff, friends to lovers, there are 2 parts to this and in the second part they kiss a lot, so maybe suggestive? this was super cute, i'm such a sucker for friends to lovers tho

heart defender - @seosracha niki x fem!reader, fluff, enemies to lovers, fake dating, nikis kinda mean. i live laugh love high school aus so this was lovely

multiple members the perilla leaf debate - @jjunberry hyung line x reader, fluff, established relationships. this one made me happy bc i can be a little jealous sometimes oops

against the wall - @goldenhypen ot7 x reader, established relationships, fluff ? suggestive ?? just making out with enhypen basically

when their s/o calls them bro - @heeliopheelia ot7 x reader, fluff, suggestive for some?, established relationships. i never call anyone bro but this was still funny and cute

hugs in specific scenarios - @thejakeslayla ot7 x gn!reader, fluff, angst for some, established relationships physical touch is so my love language so this was great bc i love hugs

hot things they do - @atrirose ot7 x fem!reader, fluff, established relationships. these also had me giggling and kicking my feet

more than just friends - @atrirose ot7 x fem!reader, fluff, friends that are more than friends, established relationships?? friends to lovers is always a win in my eyes

( AS ALWAYS SEND ME YOUR RECOMENDATIONS PLS I LOVE READING FICS AND GETTING RECOMENDATIONS SO I WILL LOVE YOU IF YOU SEND ME YOUR RECOMENDATIONS AND FAV FICS )

[ashwhowrites]

Can you do one where Eddie and the reader are in a secret relationship and Eddie wants to make it public but the reader doesn’t and he feels insecure about it but in reality the reader doesn’t want him to get picked on.They get into a big fight but they make up please and thank you 💖💘

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Ending isn't proofread whatsoever

To be ready

Y/N and Eddie agreed to keep their relationship a secret for the beginning. They wanted to date and get to know each other without everyone getting in their business.

Eddie struggled with it once they reached their five month anniversary. He felt like it was long enough and he was ready to express his feelings for her with no shame. Y/N was a little bit more nervous but she agreed, it felt like the right time.

"You ready?" Eddie asked, the smile on his face full of excitment. Her heart warmed knowing how badly he wanted to show her off, and their relationship. This was going to be their first public moment, and the first time he will introduce her to his band.

She gripped his hand, nerves filling her body. "Yes," she smiled, even though she was terrified. All she had to do was meet new people, it couldn't go that bad, right?

He walked them through the back of the bar, a small gig for the band. He walked into the small backroom and she slipped in behind. She saw a group of some boys and girls, all talking.

"Well, look who finally showed up. And not alone," one of the guys said, teasing Eddie. Eddie's face responded in a blush.

"Gareth, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Baby, this is Gareth, one of my best friends."

Y/N released his hand to kindly shake Gareth's hand.

"It's nice to meet you," Gareth replied.

She met the rest of the band, and the band's girlfriends. Or groupies, if she was honest. A few gave her dirty looks and it made her nervous. She couldn't help but notice how opposite she was from them. Their clothes were different, the way they talked and carried themselves.

Once the show started, the boys went on stage and the girls joined the crowd. Y/N was in awe watching her boyfriend perform. She forgot about all the girls, just focused on him. As the show ended, she excused herself to the bathroom.

She headed back out to the crowd. Everyone was spacing out now that the entertainment was done. She spotted the girls from earlier waiting by the back doors, where the band would be. She headed over to join them as they waited.

"How long do you think they've been together?"

"Who knows, but I would've kept her hidden. She is so not his type," the three girls snickered. Y/N frowned as it was clear they were talking about her.

"I know! I'm not sure how she managed to pull that off"

"She must have a great personality"

"Isn't he worried she's going to ruin his whole sexy rockstar look? She'll only bring him down. He should be with someone as attractive as he is"

Y/N felt a lump in her throat. She began to second guess the whole thing. They let a few people know and everything she feared that would happen was happening. Eddie was getting looked down on because of her.

Insecurity and anxiety filled her. She felt much less ready to share their relationship with more people. She was back craving their nights alone in his bed, where no one had thoughts on them. As the girl's laughter began to get louder, she ran out.

She grounded herself against the wall, inhaling the smoke as a few people blew their cigarettes. The door opened and she saw her boyfriend looking around, with worry in his eyes. Once his eyes landed on her, his gaze softened.

"There you are, what's wrong?" he asked, as he got closer he noticed her tears. She sniffled and wiped her face, a fake smile sent his way.

"Nothing! I just needed some air," she said but Eddie gave her a look.

"Fine," she sighed, "I'm second-guessing telling people about us."

"It's been an hour. We have to try longer than that before giving up," he argued. She feared where the conversation would go knowing Eddie had been growing more annoyed as the months went by.

"I know, but those girls...I'm not like them, Eddie."

"No one said you had to be, all you have to do is be yourself. Let's go in, have a drink, and try," he said holding out his hand.

"I don't feel ready for that, Eddie. I'm sorry. I thought I could do this but I can't." She flinched as Eddie's face hardened. He puffed air out of his nose and rubbed a hand over his face.

It was clear he was agitated, and she felt horrible for causing it.

"When will you be?" Eddie snapped, his force harsher than he intended. "Six months? A year?"

"I don't know," she said as she rubbed her temples. She hated the way she felt and how hard everything felt.

"Do you even want to be with me?" he asked, his face falling. His words were much softer, a little more broken.

"Of course I do!" Y/N gasped, moving closer as he cupped his face in her hands.

"Then why can't you tell other people that?" he looked up at the sky as he tried to keep his emotions back. But the familiar feeling of not being good enough was creeping in.

"I can, Eddie. But dating me, telling people, I've been scared people will pick on you. And I was right! Those girls said everything I feared," she explained. She figured her honesty would help him understand but she gulped when he stepped back and removed her hands from his face.

"Y/N, I've been picked on all my life. I don't give a shit about what people have to say, and you shouldn't either," Eddie explained.

"I don't think I can just ignore it!" Y/N exclaimed, "their words have weight. I'm not like you, I can't shove away people's opinions and thoughts about me and us."

"I think we have different mindsets of being in this relationship," Eddie whispered, he feared he couldn't talk louder without a sob breaking through.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm in this relationship to be with you, to love you and be happy with you. The only person I care about is you, the only person's that thoughts matter to me is you. You can't say the same." Y/N panicked at his words. The look in his eyes and the goodbye tone in his voice.

"But I do!" she tried to argue

Eddie laughed bitterly and scoffed. She moved passed the way his reaction snapped her heart in half. "You don't care about me. If you did, you wouldn't be breaking us up."

"YOU ARE!" Y/N yelled, tears building in her eyes.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE A SECRET!" Eddie yelled back. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. "You're worried about how others will treat me because of you? What about you? What about how you're treating me. You know all I want is for us to be together, no secrets and no shame. And you can't get over yourself to give me that."

"I understand I'm hurting you but can't you understand where I'm coming from? I tried Eddie and I realized I need more time, why can't you give me time?" she argued, her tears turning hot and angry.

"I've given you time, way damn more time than I would have ever needed," Eddie sighed. "Once you feel ready, maybe we'll figure it out."

She covered her mouth as she let out a small cry. Her heart pounded as she took in his heartbroken state. "Are we breaking up?" She whimpered.

Eddie nodded as he tucked his lip into his mouth. He put his hands in his pockets as a way of comfort. "Yeah, baby. We are."

Y/N bit her lip to silence her cries as Eddie walked back into the bar. She wanted to run after him and beg for him to stay. But he was right, he deserved someone better.

She blinked back as many tears as she could and walked to the nearest bus station. She sat on the bus, alone and crying, her heart wishing nothing more than to be in Eddie's van with his hand on her thigh.

~~~

With the summer heat, Y/N felt more miserable. She felt suffocated in her room, with too many memories of Eddie. And she couldn't escape outside without a sunburn.

It's been a long month of nothing from Eddie. Which made sense, he wasn't chasing her. She was chasing him. She was the one who had to make the move. She knew the longer she took to figure it out the faster he would run.

As she stared at her ceiling fan, she wondered if any of it was worth it. She's never felt this much pain in her life, and she was the cause of all of it. She had the power to fix it and she was wasting time.

She was getting sick of herself. Hating herself for what she did and continued to do. She missed him, and might even love him.

Eddie tried to seem like the world didn't crash on him. Tried to smile and act like he wasn't falling apart on the inside. But in reality, Eddie couldn't stand being alone. Her scent followed him everywhere and he missed the feeling of her. He missed her hands, her kiss, her body, everything. But he couldn't go back, she needed to come to him. He hoped that she realized her mistake, that this week of silence was her finding out how to come back.

The show ended and Eddie could hear his thoughts again. Not wanting to, he headed to the bar. He sat down on the stool with a heavy sigh and ordered a beer.

"Still pouting about her?"

Eddie turned as a girl's voice talked into his ear. He rolled his eyes as he looked back at his beer.

"Leave me alone,," Eddie sighed. He definitely wasn't in the mood. But she didn't listen. Instead, she dragged the barstool out and took a seat next to him.

"You're too good for her, anyway. She should have been delighted to have you on her arm," the random girl said.

Eddie eyed her weirdly, having no idea how the news of his ex-secret girlfriend began spreading. But he shook it off and went back to his beer. She talked his ear off for around an hour. Eddie was on his fifth beer as he tried to zone out the noise.

Y/N walked into the bar, feeling uneasy as the last time she was here went horribly. She scanned the crowd, her eyes easily finding him, but he wasn't alone.

A girl was seated beside him, way too close for Y/N's comfort. She was perched up, talking in his ear. Y/N's plan was to have a conversation but the jealousy overpowered everything. She was glad to see that Eddie wasn't entertaining the girl.

Eddie felt his body being spun around on his stool in a flash. Sudden arms wrapped around his neck and soft lips on his. He was surprised to see the lips belonged to Y/N. He instantly kissed back, enjoying the force of her lips against his.

She held on to him as if he was going to disappear. Her heart raced when his arms circled around her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her body to stand between them. She moaned as his tongue slipped inside her mouth, making her warm all over.

They pulled away, and Eddie couldn't wipe the smile off of his face.

"What was that?" He asked, he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or her that made his head feel dizzy.

"I'm ready. And I'm sorry for not being ready when you needed me to be. But I can't imagine my life without you. I love you and I want us to be together, no shame or secrets." Y/N said, she turned her head and saw the girl had vanished. She looked back at him, their bodies tangled.

"I love you too, baby," his lips smashed on hers. Knocking the air out of her lungs, but she liked the way it burned.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[maya1525]

🌶️ Would You Rather??? (Sashisu Request)

18+MDNI

Pairing ✩࿐ Fem!Reader X Shoko Ieiri X Suguru Geto X Satoru Gojo

WARNINGS ✩࿐ Group sex with every possible pairing between you 4. Eating train, tit fucking, giving oral, receiving oral, oral during penetration, two people giving oral to one person, face sitting, face fucking, cream pie, and vaginal sex.

Word count ✩࿐10.4K

Summary ✩࿐ Fem!Reader accidentally buys the spicy version of Would You Rather for her friend’s drinking party, and let’s just say… things end up getting a little spicy.

BONUS ✩࿐ Slow lead-up! I felt like it’d be fun to go through some questions before things intensified. Plus, I wanted the fic to feel gradual and not forced. So you can feel like you’re there at the party, just hanging out. Also the reader is also a lightweight when it comes to drinking. Her friends also view her as a little shy and innocent.

A/N ✩࿐ I originally was writing this fic as a one-shot with Suguru and Satoru, but then someone requested a Sashisu Fic! So I of course had Shoko join in on the fun! I had fun with this four-way and I prioritized that everyone was involved with each other at all times! Also, I have a crush on Shoko now. 🥰 Sorry for taking forever to post this, I know it’s a cliche thing to say: but life is very busy for me. Today I got ALL four of my wisdom teeth removed. 🥲 I was given this day off work, and I saw it as a prime opportunity to polish this fic up and post it! Thanks for reading and I appreciate all of you so much! 💗

“I’m glad you found a game for us to play.” Satoru hummed smoothly while he invited you into his semi-lit dorm room. “Cause what’s the point to drinking, when there isn’t anything fun to do.”

That earned a scoff from Geto who lounged on the couch. “Uh, we could just hang out.”

“Psh. Where’s your sense of entertainment? Are you saying you don’t want to play the game Y/n just got?” Gojo retorted in a fake shocked tone.

“I’m not saying that.” Suguru rolled his eyes toward his white-haired friend. “I’m just saying-“

“Enough of that, show us the game you got Y/n!” Shoko’s comforting voice rang from behind you, causing you to whirl around and give her a sweet hug. In return, she held you close with her arm draped around your waist. A lazy grin plastered on her face and a burning cigarette between her lips.

“Shoko! I’m so happy you made it, for a second I thought I’d be stuck with those two.” You teased, playfully glancing at Gojo and Geto. Suguru smirked at your words, while Gojo made a fist on his heart as if he was stabbed.

“Yeah, sorry for not letting you know I was coming. I got held up with something back at the lab.” She explained while moving her bangs from her face.

“Enough talk, let’s start this night off with a shot! That means you Suguru.” Satoru announced clapping his hands. He led you and Shoko to the island, where he got the glasses ready. All the lights were off except for the ones above the island. The rest of his living room and kitchen were lit up by blue LED strips. Giving his living space an electric feel.

“When was the last time you got drunk Y/n?” Suguru asked curiously while approaching the counter, his dark gaze resting on you.

You flushed, “The last time I got drunk was with you guys.”

“What?! That was like two months ago!” Gojo exasperated while pouring vodka into the small glasses. Judging from how fancy the vodka bottle looked, you had a feeling he bought the expensive stuff. Which didn’t surprise you.

“Yeah, it's been a while. So let the send begin.” You explained excitedly, taking one of the shot glasses for yourself.

“Fuck yeah! Let’s full fucking send baby!” Satoru cheered while raising his shot glass. “This is for a good night!”

“A good night!” Everyone said while they clinked their glasses. Then they tapped the bottom of their shot glasses to the counter and proceeded to take it to their lips.

You held your breath as you quickly forced yourself to swallow the harsh poison. Your mouth watered tremendously and it went down like liquid fire. Your eyes teared up a bit as you set your glass down.

“Shit, that woke me up.” Suguru chuckled while setting his glass next to yours.

“Same here *cough* let’s play that game you got, Y/n!” Shoko croaked out while squeezing your arm gently.

You quickly dug in your purse to grab the deck of cards while your friends went to the living room. They situated themselves on the floor, so you guys could sit in a circle. You sat between Suguru and Satoru with Shoko across from you. Geto was busy finding some good background music to play on the TV to set the mood.

“What did you end up getting?” Gojo asked while leaning back on his hands comfortably. You handed him the box.

“I got us Would You Rather! There were so many versions to choose from! I thought we’d have a fun time playing it, so I got the generic box of questions.” You sighed eagerly, leaning over to Satoru to look at the cards.

Gojo chuckled. “This isn’t the original one… You got us the spicy version.” He peeled off the price tag to reveal the small red word ‘spicy’ underneath it.

Mortification washed over you like a massive wave, “No, no! I swear I got the plain one! I’m so sorry you guys. If you want I can run to the store and get the other version.”

“Let’s give it a try. And if it’s no good, I’ll be the one who runs to the store.” Satoru hummed while giving you a gentle elbow jab.

“But don’t you think it would be too embarrassing to talk about spicy topics…” You mumbled shyly, trying to avert your gaze from his.

“Hell no! If you’re feeling shy, just drink some more liquid courage!” Satoru announced while handing you a red solo cup with fruity alcoholic juice. He clinked his plastic cup against yours and the both of you drank to that.

You couldn’t help but turn your lips upward, “Okay, let’s see how this goes.”

“Since Y/n bought the game she can go first, then we’ll just go around in a circle,” Shoko stated, handing you a card from the top of the deck. You were already feeling that shot in your system. Your face felt warm and you felt more outgoing. You leaned against the base of the couch comfortably.

You quickly read over your card. “Okay Shoko, this one’s for you! Would you rather receive a sexy message or a love note?”

Shoko took a swig of her drink and then answered, “Message. I’d receive it faster and then answer right away. What about you?” She nodded her head in your direction.

“Hmm… I’d say love note! Cause when you write something down you want to leave a lasting impression. Making notes more… special.” You exclaimed dreamily, then you felt hot with embarrassment because you realized everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Aww, that’s cute. I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” Shoko’s soft brown eyes sparkled at you.

“I’d say I’m the same way Y/n, letters seem more sentimental.” Geto agreed with you, his gaze held on you briefly.

“Nah, I’d want a hot text message. Right here. Right now.” Satoru slurred, “Then we could act on those feelings asap.” Gojo grabbed a card from the top of the deck and read it over briskly. “Y/n, would you rather show affection in public or in private?” Satoru asked with a cheeky grin while taking a drink from his cup.

You tilted your head toward Gojo. “What type of affection is it? Cause if it’s innocent then I don’t mind doing it in public.”

Satoru chuckled. “What do you mean innocent stuff?” He arched a brow at you over his glasses.

“Like hugs, kisses, and hand-holding. Not doing the nasty!” You explained while taking a drink, you felt another wave of the alcohol wash over you. Damn, you’re getting drunk faster than expected.

“Makes sense, to be honest, I don’t care if it’s done in public. Let’s make a scene, who cares if people watch.” Gojo murmured while subtly resting his hand on yours. This small action made your heart skip a beat.

“I’m the opposite, I’d want to be the only one to see my partner unraveled. No one else should deserve to see them in such an intimate way.” Suguru stated with his arms crossed.

“What about you Shoko?” You asked her curiously.

The corner of her mouth tilted upward, “I’m the same as you. I’m okay with public affection if it’s mild.” She then leaned forward to grab herself a card. Her eyes quickly darted from left to right as she read it. “Ooo, okay this one’s a little dirty… I want Suguru to answer this. When it comes to oral, would you rather give or receive?”

Geto stiffened with surprise. “Even though receiving is delightful, I’d say give.”

This earned a girlish squeal to come from you and Shoko, “Really?! How come?” She pried with a hazy smile.

“It brings me satisfaction to please someone who I care about,” Geto admitted while adjusting his position so his left arm was now resting on his bent knee.

“Same here, it’s like your way to show them how much you admire them.” You agreed wistfully, the alcohol in your system had taken a deeper root and you were feeling pretty good.

“I like being on the receiving end of the stick. Nothing’s hotter than the view of your sweetheart worshiping you with their mouth.” Satoru explained while his fingers trailed up your wrist playfully, and then he rested his hand back on yours.

Geto chuckled. “Of course you would.”

“Yeah, why doesn’t that surprise me,” Shoko added with a little laugh.

Suguru then leaned forward and grabbed a card. “Would you rather only have sex in bed for the rest of your life or never be able to have sex in a bed again? I want Y/n to answer this.”

“I’d say, never in the bed. Cause doing it in the bed all the time could get boring.” You expressed and everyone murmured in agreement. “Ok, my turn.” You swiftly grabbed yourself a card. “Suguru, would you rather have sex in the car or the shower?

Geto brought his veiny hand up to his mouth in deep thought. “Shower.”

You giggled at his blunt answer. “And why?”

His sharp eyes darted toward you humorously. “Because when you’re done you’re nice and clean. Also, the steam and being all wet is hot. Doing it in a car sounds a little restrictive.”

You nodded in agreement. “Those are some good points, I’d say the same.”

“You guys are weird, doing it in the car is way hotter!” Satoru interrupted.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking!” Shoko chimed in to aid Gojo. “Doing it in the car is restrictive, but that shouldn’t be a problem if you’re flexible.”

“Plus the whole car steams up and it shakes while you do it. Making it a public scene which is even better.” Satoru explained while waving his drink around. Then he grabbed his card, “Shoko, would you rather only be able to be on the bottom during sex or only on the top?”

Shoko took a slurp of her beverage, “Hmm, it depends. If I’m with a guy, then bottom. But if I’m with a girl then top.” She explained with a cute smile, her gaze drifted towards you. “What about you?”

You flushed because of how intimate the question was. “Me? Oh… umm, I’d say bottom for men. But it depends on women. If she’s more assertive I’ll let her be top. But if she’s more on the submissive side then I’ll take the lead.”

“That’s hot.” Satoru blurted with a flirtatious expression. You felt his hand give yours a small squeeze, causing you to look down bashfully.

You reached for your cup only to realize that you finished it off a couple of minutes ago.

“Gimme your cup, I’ll get you some more babe.” Satoru purred over to you.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him sweetly as he removed the red cup from your hand. His gaze had the perfect view down your shirt at this angle, which made him enjoy the noticeable height difference between you too.

“Anyone else need a refresher.” Gojo glanced at his other two friends, while he stood to his feet. Both Suguru and Shoko handed him their empty cups and with two cups in each hand, he departed to the kitchen.

“So on a level of one to ten, how drunk are you Y/n? One being barely and ten being black-out wasted.” Shoko asked the beauty mark beneath her eye raised upward when she smiled at you.

“Hmm, I’d say I’m like a four-point seven.” You sighed cutely. Your response caused both Geto and Shoko to laugh.

“That’s oddly specific, why a four-point seven of all numbers?” Geto eyed you with amusement.

“I couldn’t just say four, 'cause I’m feeling five coming on!”

“If someone said four-point seven, that must mean they’re actually like a six.” Shoko snickered. “I think our little friend’s a lightweight Suguru!”

You paid no mind to their teasing, it only made you laugh in response. It’s been a while since the four of you kicked back like this.

Gojo returned with the refilled beverages, he of course handed you your drink first with a sly grin. He sat down next to you, closer than he was before and he draped his muscular arm around your narrow shoulders. “So whose turn is it now?”

“Mine!” Shoko announced as she reached for a card. “And this one’s for you Gojo, would you rather have morning sex or late-night sex?”

“Morning sex, what else would be a better way to start my day!” Satoru admitted seductively while pulling you a little bit closer to him. His warm body next to yours was comforting, since his living room window was open, letting in a fresh cold night breeze.

“True, I’ll have to agree with you on that one,” Shoko admitted while sipping on her drink.

“What about you Y/n?” Satoru asked nonchalantly while throwing his card in the discard pile.

“I’m more of a nighttime person. Cause then after we can just cuddle and fall asleep.” You confessed while taking a drink from your cup. Its fruity flavor was quite delectable, making it a dangerous drink.

“You’re such a sweetheart Y/n, truly girlfriend material.” Gojo laughed and complimented at the same time.

His honest reaction made you feel pretty good about yourself - or was it the alcohol? Maybe both.

“Don’t fall for his flattery Y/n,” Geto warned, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Gojo doesn’t deserve a girl like you. You’re too good for him.”

“Psh! As if you’re any better than me?” Satoru hissed over at his friend. “Answer me this Y/n, would you rather date me or Geto?”

You flushed at his bold question and nervously looked down. You couldn’t choose between both of them! You wouldn’t want to hurt either of their feelings. “I-I…” You stammered.

Shoko came to the rescue. “Cut that shit out Gojo! Besides, it’s not your turn to ask a question.”

“Yeah, it’s my turn.” Suguru leaned forward to grab his card with a devilish grin. “Y/n, would you rather I show you or tell you about my desires?”

You took another drink from the red cup, feeling the liquid courage run rampant through your veins. “Show me.”

Suguru set his drink aside and pried you from Satoru’s grasp. He guided you onto his lap so you were straddling him. His lips turned upward to form a sly grin.

“First… I’d gently caress your body, like this.” His smooth voice hummed softly, while his large veiny hands ghosted from your waist down to your juicy thighs. His hot hands trailed from your knees to the inner sensitive parts between them. “And while I do that, I’ll kiss you, like this.” His lips pressed against yours and his sneaky tongue tangled itself with yours. Meanwhile, you could hear Shoko and Gojo protesting in the background.

Your heart was pounding a million miles per minute. You’ve never kissed Suguru before, he was your friend! The most you two have ever done was cuddle when you were cold. Yes; he’d flirt with you, but so did Shoko and Gojo (he was relentless, to say the least). Of course, you fed in and would smooth talk your friends. You never would’ve thought those innocent remarks could progress into something so much more. Was he kissing you just for fun? Or was it simply to take part in the game? You wanted to test the waters and cautiously reached up to grab the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. His mouth moved against yours passionately, while his hands glided from your thighs to your lower back in the most tantalizing way.

He then removed his mouth from yours and whispered lowly in your ear. “Then once things get a little more desperate between us, I’d like to worship you with my mouth.” With that being said, he lowered his hot mouth down to the crook of your neck. He sucked on your flawless skin as if he was savoring a delectable dish. While he marked you, his sultry gaze met Gojo’s. Who had his arms crossed defiantly. Satoru wanted to be the one to unravel cute little Y/n.

An adorable sigh of pleasure escaped your lips when you felt Geto mark your skin with a bit more pressure. The room around you seemed to spin and your vision wasn’t clear anymore. The alcohol has clouded your senses and now you are in a drunk stupor. You couldn’t care less though, you were having fun, and you were feeling yourself too. You’ve never felt so wanted and so hot before.

“Let’s not get carried away, darling.” Suguru cooed while he pulled off your neck, leaving a notable red mark. By the way your breath hitched, Geto could sense how ready you were. He turned your body effortlessly and draped you across his lap. His strong arms held you securely, and you felt quite comfortable in his lap like this.

“I didn’t realize that you’d be such a needy little girl Y/n,” Gojo smirked down at you while he handed you your drink. You took it graciously and took a generous swig.

“Hmm? Is that a bad thing or a good thing?” You questioned with a hazed look on your pretty face. It was pretty evident how drunk you were.

“To put it bluntly, your eagerness is a fucking turn-on,” Satoru murmured while blatantly checking your tits out.

You simply smiled and took another drink from your cup. Your ego was higher than ever and it was mostly because of the liquor in your system. You were heavily intoxicated at this point and the room was swirling around you. You rested your head on Suguru’s shoulder for stability while you sipped on the last of your drink.

“Looks like you’re running out.” Geto purred above you, he poured his drink into your cup with a killer smirk as his bangs fell in front of his face. You greedily took another drink of the alcoholic beverage.

“Suguru, I’m drunk…” You whined quietly, looking into his hazy amber eyes, your vision was doubled and it looked as if Geto had a twin brother.

“Oh really?” He teased while finishing off his drink.

“Damn, Y/n is so fucking cute when she’s drunk,” Satoru murmured over to Geto. Gojo’s flirtatious gaze held on you briefly. His voice sounded as if it was underwater, you couldn’t help but smile at his compliment and burrow your face in the crook of Suguru’s neck. Damn, he smelt so attractive, like a dark and sweet candle.

“Y/n… I think it’s your turn to go.” Shoko called from across you. “Here’s your card.” You turned your attention over to her while she was on all fours on the floor to hand you your card. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes looked at you with a hint of desire.

You smiled at her sweetly and took it, you found it a little difficult to read what the card said. The words looked as if they were waving around. “I can’t read it…” You pouted adorably.

“Here, hand it to me sugar.” Geto’s voice rumbled in his chest. “Okay it says; would you rather have long, slow sex every time or always have a quickie?”

“I’d want to have quickies 'cause I like it rough.” You admitted with no shame. Your words caused Geto to grip onto you a bit tighter.

“You don’t say?” Gojo’s seductive voice rang out while he eyed you hungrily.

Shoko giggled, her laugh sounded like music to your ears. “No sweetie, who do you want to answer the question? That’s your card.”

Realization hit you and you laughed carelessly. “Oh, whoopsies… how bout you answer this Gojo?”

“I’m the same as you, 'cause fucking rough is so much fun. Would you care to try it sometime?”

You bit your lower lip and batted your eyelashes up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah babe, we’ve been friends for about a year now and I’m just trying to get to know you a bit better.” He whispered huskily, knowing damn well Suguru and Shoko could hear the both of you. He brought his face close to yours while you shifted in Geto’s lap to get closer to Gojo. He brushed his lips against yours in a teasing manner and then pulled away.

“Fucking hell, don’t get me riled up. I might just have to take you up to my bedroom after this.” He grazed his tongue over his top row of teeth. Satoru reached over to the pile of cards and grabbed one for himself. “Y/n, would you rather lick me here…or here?” He pointed to his abs and then to his neck.

“Why those places?” Shoko giggled over at her white-haired friend.

“The card specifically says not on the lips or privates.” Satoru flung his card in her direction. He then cast his flirtatious gaze toward you. “So which is it?”

“Both!” You sighed excitedly. “Shit, what were the options again?” You slurred with a hiccup.

“Abs or neck?” Gojo repeated himself while beckoning you to come to him.

“Okay.” You giggled while crawling from Geto’s lap over to Gojo. You lifted Satoru’s shirt to reveal his mouthwatering abs, he was so fit and muscular. You eagerly settled yourself between his legs comfortably and dragged your molten tongue up his stomach.

“Mmh, fuck.” Gojo groaned quietly, fully enjoying how hot this was. Your tongue tickled him, but he paid no mind to it and loved your cute little mouth making love to his strong abs.

Everything around you didn’t matter and you solely focused on licking Gojo like a treat. Your intrusive thoughts got the best of you and you latched down and began to suck on his skin instead. You then left a small trail of hickeys down his taught skin and continued to work your way southward. You rested your hand on his thigh, and in return, you felt his large hand rest on your shoulder.

Your thoughts quickly became dirty and you tentatively reached up to rest your hand on Satoru’s crotch. You were pleasantly surprised to find him fully erect. “You dirty girl. Ahh…” Gojo hissed out in pleasure when you stroked his length in an appetizing way.

Your sinful mouth sucked on his pale skin hungrily. You knew that some red marks would be left behind. Being the one responsible made you feel needy between your legs. Your mouth continued to make its way lower and lower. Soon enough your lips brushed against the hem of his black pants.

“Have you ever been to Paris?” Gojo murmured huskily above you.

“Huh?” You looked up with a dazed expression on your pretty face.

“Cause I can show you the eye-full tower.” He rumbled with a flirty expression.

Your busy mouth came to a halt and a smile crept on your face, followed by uncontrollable giggles. “That was the corniest shit I’ve ever heard! You’re drunk Satoru!”

“What? I thought that was the right thing to say at the moment.” Gojo smiled cheekily with a faint blush forming across his cheeks.

Even Shoko and Geto joined in on the laughter. You pulled off his hickey-ridden abs and took a greedy drink from your cup.

“Please don’t tell me you used that pickup line before.” Suguru chided through hearty chuckles.

“As a matter of fact, I’ve used it twice. And each time-“

“Ouch! I can’t believe you’d try to pull the same shallow trick on me! You gotta try harder than that.” You panted between fits of laughter.

“I bet he’s the type to be all talk and then finishes in three minutes,” Shoko added while rolling onto the floor snickering.

“Nah, he’s more like. That has never happened before, must be because you’re so hot.” Geto snarked while imitating Gojo’s seductive voice.

“Hey, guys enough with the mean jokes!” You defended. “He’s just a squirrel trying to find his nut.” The three of you were wheezing at this point, while Satoru just crossed his arms with an amused smile.

“You guys seem to be more drunk than me.” He mumbled with an arched brow, while he pulled his shirt back down and quenched his thirst for his alcohol.

Eventually, the three of you settled down and there was a moment of silence. Which was short-lived.

“My turn!” Shoko sighed excitedly, she grabbed a card, and her face lit up as she read it. “Ooh! Okay, Y/n, would you rather make out with me right now or in the bathroom where we can have some privacy?” Her smooth voice echoed in your mind while her amber eyes seemed to glow towards you in the dimly lit room.

You felt immense desire well up inside you, you’ve always found Shoko to be alluring. You never would’ve thought that she’d view you in a romantic way. You’ve never kissed a girl before and the liquor in your system sent your confidence soaring. You crawled over to her instead of answering the question. She leaned across the circle toward you and met you halfway. Her beautiful face inched closer to yours, and being so close to her made you realize how good she smelt. Her scent was sweet like vanilla mixed with a faint flowery smell. You smiled at her with anticipation and she smirked at you in return. You admired her cute little beauty mark below her right eye. While you were taking in her pretty looks she greedily pressed her lips against yours.

She tasted like cherries, her soft lips moved against yours hypnotically. You gasped in her mouth when she tangled her l fingers in your hair to pull you in deeper. It felt as if your body was lit on fire with passion, and you succumbed quickly to her viper-like tongue.

Suguru and Satoru watched with starved looks on their faces while you feverishly made out with each other. Shoko grabbed you by your shoulder and pulled you even closer. You tentatively reached up and rested your hand on her slim waist. Things were heating up faster than you intended and you felt her sneaky fingers grip your thigh hotly. Her nimble hand snaked its way between your legs, causing excitement to burn through your veins. The both of you were completely enthralled with each other and forgot that the guys were still watching you. She kissed her way off your mouth and across your jaw. Her heated kiss trailed down to your neck while her hand gravitated closer to your core between your legs.

“Mmh, Shoko…” A slutty little whimper rang from your lips, stirring an insatiable hunger within the men watching.

You felt her slick lips form into a sultry smile against your neck. “Have you ever been pleased by another girl before?”

Your cheeks flushed and you shook your head negatively. “N-no. But I want to be.” You admitted in a breathy whisper.

“Perfect. Let me do the honors then.” Shoko’s smooth voice mumbled against the crook of your neck. Her hand that was between your legs brushed against your clothed pussy in your pants. A combination of delight and excitement washed over you.

Suddenly, you felt another pair of hands resting on the back of your hips and the presence of someone sitting behind you.

“I hope you sexy ladies don’t mind if we join in on the fun.” Satoru’s low voice mumbled out from behind you. Your body immediately rested back against his chest in acceptance. He hoisted you up on his lap as if you were weightless. His body pressed against your back brought a comforting warmth.

Gojo feverishly snacked on the right side of your neck while Shoko left hickeys on your left side. Her dainty fingers ghosted over your clothed cunt. You felt her smile slyly against the crook of your neck. Shoko began to unbutton your pants.

The room around you was spinning and it felt as if someone had hexed the liquor you consumed. For some reason in your drunk state of consciousness, you craved this sexual pleasure with the utmost urgency. There was no rhyme or reason to your actions and your body succumbed to those wanton urges.

You lifted your hips to help Shoko remove your pants when you felt her tug them downward. Gojo took the opportunity to rest both of his large veiny hands on your soft and squishy thighs. You glanced over to see that Geto had positioned himself behind Shoko and began to caress her body while she shimmied your pants off of you. Once she flung your pants away she settled herself between your thighs and pushed your sexy underwear off to the side. Her hands pried your thighs open a bit wider and now your exposed core was on display for her and Suguru to see. Meanwhile, Satoru nibbled at the back of your neck hungrily. You felt his hands firmly pull your top off now revealing your juicy breasts to Suguru.

Her alluring face dipped between your legs and you felt her hot breath waft over your desperate little cunt. She placed a feather-light kiss against your pussy. Her silky soft lips glided over your dampening folds, she teasingly dipped her tongue into your entrance for a quick taste. Suguru made his way over to you to study your flushed face. He smiled at the needy look on your face and pressed his lips against yours. He gently groped your plump breasts with admiration. But his fondling was cut short when Satoru pushed his hands away so he could have a turn.

Shoko’s sneaky tongue slid up your pussy and against your clit deliciously. She lapped her tongue in your folds expertly, she’s done this before. Shoko then focused her mouth on your sensitive bundle of nerves. She even went as far as latching down and sucking on it viciously. Your body squirmed under her promiscuous mouth and small whimpers of pleasure escaped your lips and into Suguru’s mouth.

Suguru’s lips moved against yours feverishly, he nibbled your bottom lip in a teasing manner while his tongue begged to enter. You obliged and your tongues twisted and slithered against each other hotly.

Satoru had a perfect view of Shoko going down on you and that fucking riled him up. The way Satoru had you on his lap, caused you to feel something hard press against your ass cheeks. The thought of Gojo popping a boner from Shoko eating you out made you extra horny.

Gojo couldn’t take it anymore and unzipped his pants from underneath you and began to rub his aching rod along the inside parts of your thighs. His dick felt hot and firm against your soft skin. You glanced down to admire the way his cock looked. You never would have thought that you’d be fortunate enough to witness his large vein-covered rod. The tip of his dick was a soft rosy color and it leaned a little to the left. Despite how heavy it looked, it surprised you how it stood up erect on its own.

Shoko’s mouth on your desperate cunt made you incredibly wet. Your pussy was practically begging for penetration. Satoru was able to feel the mix of Shoko’s saliva and your arousal drip down onto his raging shaft.

Shoko couldn’t help but give Satoru’s dick a little love. Her pert mouth welcomed him into her wet cavern with great enthusiasm.

“Fucking shit.” Gojo hissed under his breath, Shoko’s mouth felt so inviting. She dragged her tongue all over his length to coat him up in her saliva. Shoko pulled away and guided the head of his cock to your slick entrance. She wore a captivated expression as she helped his thick tip squeeze into your pretty little pussy. Gojo stretched you out almost painfully. He was barely inside you and a small cry of discomfort and surprise fell from your lips.

“It’s okay baby, you’re doing so good. Just a little more and then he’s in.” Shoko cooed with an empathetic smile. She picked up on your slight discomfort and placed juicy kisses on your clit. Her tongue swirled around your clitoris. Her skilled mouth helped you relax onto Gojo’s shaft and soon enough, he slid all the way into you. Enthralling pleasure began to buzz through you and you were ready to move.

Satoru placed one hand on your hip and the other on your breast, teasing your nipple between his index and thumb. He set into a slow pace of pumping his rod into you. He was trying to savor the way your walls gripped him tightly. But the greedier side of his personality was taking over, and he simply wanted to rail you here and now. His thrusts became wild with an incredible amount of force. You’ve never been fucked this rough before, and you were certainly enjoying it.

Suguru’s hot lips kissed yours passionately while his friend claimed your pussy. However, Geto felt a small sting of jealousy toward his white-haired friend. To feel like he wasn’t missing out he positioned his face between Shoko’s legs. He lifted her skirt to reveal her toned thighs and plump ass, wrapped in a sexy red thong. He slid his sneaky fingers down to her snatch, to find her pleasantly wet and ready. Suguru didn’t waste any time and ravishingly kissed her cunt.

Shoko slurped your clit as if it was her favorite candy. Her tongue teased and tickled you, which made you even more saturated. Gojo has never experienced a pussy as wet as yours, which enticed the idea that this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. That’s for damn sure.

The overstimulation of Shoko’s hot mouth and Satoru’s penetrating length turned you into a bubbling mess. Since you weren’t sober, this made the situation much more riveting. You flung your head back and onto Gojo’s broad shoulder. Which inspired him to plunge into you with more force than before, with each thrust you were able to feel his massive dick stretch you out almost sinfully.

“Damn it.” Gojo gritted through his teeth, he was about to bust due to your perfect pussy. He wanted to last longer and pushed the thought of release aside. You felt him abruptly pull out of you. “Shoko, Y/n. I want you to make out on my dick.” Satoru commanded breathlessly.

This grabbed Suguru’s attention and he removed his mouth from Shoko’s pussy with a wet kiss. “Can you ladies do the same to me?”

Shoko popped her head out from between your thighs and rolled her eyes. “Who made you the boss, Satoru?”

“It’s okay.” Shoko’s expression softened when your mousy voice spoke up. “I think it’d be hot, we should give it a try. Then after can I suggest something?” You smiled almost innocently. Your natural beauty mesmerized your friends.

“Y-yeah, anything for you babe.” Shoko flushed, her upper cheeks tinted with a faint shade of pink.

You flashed her a sugary grin and repositioned yourself on the floor near Gojo’s crotch. His pants were messily undone and his slippery raging dick stood up, ready for action. You laid on Satoru’s right leg and Shoko placed herself over his left. Gojo was able to feel your wet and desperate pussies through his pant legs. Geto went ahead and sat on Gojo’s right side, next to you. Geto had a large and noticeable tent in his pants, his cock was aching for attention. Without hesitation, you reached over and softly stroked his meaty package.

With no words being exchanged, you and Shoko began to kiss the tip of Satoru’s dick together. The sweet taste of your juices was the first thing you noticed. You lapped your tongue over the head of his rod and Shoko did the same. Your tongues tangled with each other passionately, while they slid over Gojo’s pink tip.

Geto looked down longingly at the way you and Shoko swapped saliva on Satoru’s length. Gojo caught him staring and guided Geto’s face to his. Satoru kissed Suguru with immense desire, he didn’t want his friend to feel left out of all the fun. You felt Gojo’s hand envelope yours on Geto’s dick. He promptly pumped your hand on Suguru’s shaft, which caused his dick to get even more excited. Geto’s pants looked uncomfortably tight and you felt Gojo’s hand move off of yours and yanked his waistband down, freeing Suguru’s sprung friend.

You and Shoko took turns sucking off Gojo’s rod. She would briefly deep-throat him, kiss you on the lips, and then it would be your turn. You beckoned him down your throat, pulled off, and kissed her with your slick lips. You then placed petal soft kisses on the right side of his cock, while Shoko copied your actions and kissed his left side. Your mouth lowered down to balls and you engulfed his right nut in your mouth, sucking it softly and lapping your tongue on his heavy sack. Shoko followed your actions and sucked on his other nut, you felt Gojo tangle his fingers in your hair, lost in delight. Your tongue grazed against Shoko’s while you two made love to Satoru’s nuts. Shoko then brought her heated mouth upward and to the tip of his dick and greedily forced him down her throat. You switched to his right ball and sucked him off softly, while Shoko let him throat fuck her.

Muted moans of pleasure came from Gojo’s mouth but were quickly swallowed up by Geto. Their mouths moved against each other with intense passion. You felt Satoru’s hand speed yours up while the both of you jacked off Geto. You heard a small groan rumble from Suguru in response. You moved your mouth back to the tip of Gojo’s veiny length, you were greeted by a sloppy kiss from Shoko. The both of you sucked and licked his sensitive tip.

“Mmh, I’m about to cum, get ready to be fed,” Satoru murmured into Suguru’s lips.

You and Shoko obediently opened your mouths and stuck out your tongues, anticipating his release. Soon enough, he sprayed his hot clear treat on both of your tongues. You eagerly drank it up, loving his delectable taste. You and Shoko took turns sucking his tip lovingly as he shot his liquid down your throats.

Once Satoru finished, he guided your face down to Geto’s exposed dick. You removed your hand from his girthy shaft and placed a sweet kiss on his tip. Shoko crawled over to Suguru’s other side and began to run her tongue all over his cock. You welcomed the head of his hot and ready dick into your mouth. You fluttered your tongue around him expertly, while Shoko began to make love to his heavy balls. You were able to hear Geto and Gojo swap saliva intensely. Satoru tangled his hand into Suguru’s tied-up black hair, he knew just how to tug it to make Geto unravel.

You worked your mouth further down Suguru’s shaft and he quickly hit the back of your throat, you calmed your breath and let him pump his dick in and out of you. Your wet and tight throat felt immaculate to him, he could just stay there forever. Shoko teased and suckled each of his nuts, she loved the way his velvety skin felt under her swift tongue. While Suguru throat fucked you, Shoko began to touch and tease your body. Her sneaky hands caressed your breasts and hardened nipples. Her other hand found its way down to your wet snatch and hastily rubbed on your sensitive slit.

You eventually had to come up for air from Suguru’s thick cock lodged in your throat. You popped off him with a loud wet sound, and once you did, Shoko’s hot lips were on yours. As if she was craving your attention. She guided your bare boobs down to Geto’s slick rod with a little sparkle in her eye. She placed his dick in between your plump breasts, causing him to groan in delight. Your soft and squishy tits wrapped around his dick in the most comfortable way.

Shoko placed another passionate kiss on your lips and dove between your breasts. She sucked off Suguru eagerly while she fondled both of your boobs. As a bisexual girl, Shoko was in heaven.

She’d briefly slurp Geto’s rod, then she’d leave feverish kisses all over your tits. She made sure not to miss a single spot on your breasts. Shoko especially loved how responsive you were when she’d give your boobs attention, your little moans and gasps of delight sounded like music to her ears.

Geto instinctively began to thrust his length between your soft breasts, Shoko helped by bouncing them on his crotch. The sight before you was incredibly hot, the way his large veiny dick was surrounded by your tits caused a primal desire in your empty pussy. You could practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t help but bring one of your hands down to your needy little snatch, as for your other hand, that one was for Shoko’s cunt. Your dainty fingers snuck underneath her skirt and traced her slippery outer lips, this caused a desperate whimper to come from her busy lip. Shoko sucked on Geto’s tip like a lollipop, while you rubbed both of your clits in little circles.

Gojo was already fired up again and his dick stood up proudly from his undone pants. The sight of Geto tit fucking you while Shoko sucked him off was more than enough for him to handle. Suguru noticed his friend’s predicament and whispered something in his ear that caused the white-haired man to hastily get out of his spot. Satoru swiftly stood above you and Shoko. Geto helped Gojo wrap his legs over his broad shoulders. Satoru made himself weightless, to save Suguru the trouble of holding him up in this position. Now with Gojo’s impressive length in front of Geto’s lips, he immediately got to work.

This was one of Satoru’s fantasies. Ever since he saw Suguru consume the large orb of cursed energy down his throat, he had a strong feeling that Geto would be amazing at the head. Suguru swirled his tongue around Gojo’s tip while he inched himself further into his mouth. Once Satoru was in his throat, he was able to feel intense cursed energy tingle the tip of his dick.

“Mmh, fuck…” He groaned out in surprise. Was Suguru using his technique on him? Regardless, the foreign feeling was quite erotic. Gojo wanted to hump his dick into Geto’s mouth, but the sensation of his cursed energy sent waves of pleasure all over him, Gojo did not need to move. It was as if he stuck his dick into a wet and warm vacuum, Satoru’s jaw went slack from this intensity. Out of curiosity, he tried to pull his dick out a little, but he was unable to, he was getting pulled down Suguru’s throat! That certainly didn’t bother him though, as a matter of fact, it made him hold Geto’s face even closer to his crotch. “Keep me in your throat,” Gojo muttered breathlessly. “Yeah, just like that. Ohh.”

Both Suguru and Satoru were lost in pleasure. For Satoru, it was having his hips flush against Suguru’s mouth. As for Suguru, it was the dirty acts his throat did to his friend, along with the way Shoko fucked your tits against his dick while she sucked his tip. This was all too much for Geto to handle and he released himself all over you and Shoko’s doll-like faces. His cum came out like strands of milk and it dripped from her face down onto your fleshy boobs. Shoko licked her lips clean and then began to clean his seed off your perfect boobs. Her hot tongue lapped up Geto’s juices in a fluttering manner. She then brought her face to yours and removed his cum off your face with her slutty mouth, as you did the same to hers.

Gojo wasn’t close to finishing yet, but at least he was slick and ready for fucking. He reluctantly removed himself from Suguru’s throat and sat down beside him.

“So, what was your suggestion?” Satoru’s blue eyes grazed over your wet breasts.

You stared him down as if he was a piece of meat. “I want to sit on your face.”

Gojo’s expression switched into a more flirtatious one. “Oh? I didn’t think a shy girl like you would be that bold.”

“I guess it’s cause I’m drunk.” You smiled lazily. “Also I want Shoko to sit on Geto’s face while we make out.”

That earned a small giggle from the girl beside you. “Man, drunk Y/n is secretly a freak. I like it!” She grinned over at you with approval and wrapped her arm around your waist snuggly.

Geto cleared his throat. “That sounds like a great idea, but halfway through I want us to switch partners, just to keep things interesting.”

“That’s fine, switching sounds good.” You agreed while resting your head on Shoko’s narrow shoulder. Sleep was calling your name, but your desire to find out how the rest of this night would play out kept you wide awake.

“Mmkay, let’s get on with this. I’m hungry for your pussy Y/n.” Satoru snarked while grabbing a pillow from the couch and lying down on the floor. Geto followed his lead and put his pillow next to Gojo’s, so their heads were across from each other.

You stood up and began to remove your soaked panties, they dropped to the living room floor soon forgotten. Shoko also undressed herself, her skirt pooled to the floor along with the rest of her undergarments.

You carefully mounted Gojo’s face so both of your knees rested on each side of his head onto the squishy pillow. He eyed your pretty pussy with a starved look on his face. He rapidly gripped your thighs and forced your cunt onto his mouth. You worried about the lack of air he had, but those thoughts soon vanished because of the way he ate you. His tongue swiped over your folds repeatedly, his nose was burrowed against your puffy clit.

Now that Shoko was sitting on Geto’s face across from you, she immediately brought your body close to hers. Her comforting scent of sweet vanilla filled your senses and you pressed your soft lips against hers. Her warm supple body against yours felt so right. The both of you kissed each other with intense yearning, her tongue intertwined itself with yours. Your left hand tangled itself in her straight brown hair, while your right hand messaged her plump breast.

Satoru and Suguru eyed the both of you friskily, certainly enjoying the view going on above them. Gojo’s wicked tongue flickered against your sensitive bundle of nerves, causing you to grind your cunt against his face desperately. His hands were still holding you down on his face, he knew if he let go you’d be a squirming mess.

Shoko was also becoming more unraveled due to Suguru’s teasing tongue in her pussy, her small gasps and moans of pleasure had become more frequent. Shoko pulled away from your face to admire the adorable flushed expression you wore. “You’re just so breathtaking.” She gasped out in felicity and pressed her lips against yours.

“Mmm, thank you. You’re so fucking fine... Ahh, Satoru!” You whimpered out shamelessly while you felt Gojo tongue fuck you. He shoved it in you aggressively and pumped it in and out repeatedly.

“What about me?” Satoru gurgled into your pussy, with a playful look in his blazing blue eyes.

“You’re hot too!” You moaned while trying to clench your thighs closer together, his hot mouth on your dampening pussy was sending you over the edge.

“What else do you like about me?” Gojo teased, then he swiveled his tongue around deep inside you.

You flashed him an annoyed look. “Quit being jealous-ahh!” His tongue flickered over that special spot inside of you.

“Just eat my pussy.” You hissed out in ecstasy while you gyrated your cunt on his face. Satoru’s hair fell messily in front of his eyes, but you were still able to make out the flirtatious expression he had.

“Yes, mama,” Gojo mumbled into your slippery cunt, while he ate you like a starved animal.

Shoko gave your boobs a little squeeze. “Let’s switch, I’m getting close.” She murmured against your lips, with a little smirk.

You nodded in agreement and pried yourself from Gojo’s grip. You and Shoko swiftly switched spots. Geto’s dark brown eyes greeted you ravenously, once you settled yourself on his face. He didn’t waste any time eating you as if you were his last meal. He slurped on your clit while simultaneously fluttering his tongue over it, making you a mewling mess.

“Oh, Suguru!” You cried out while smashing your lips on Shoko’s. The two of you exchanged breathless sighs while clinging to each other’s breasts.

Suddenly, you felt Geto stick his thumb up your ass. A surprised moan left your lips, while he pumped his thumb in and out of your tight puckered hole. Suguru’s hot lips kissed and enveloped your pussy while he sucked on your cunt. His tongue brushed your clit rapidly, you had no idea that he was capable of moving his tongue that fast.

The combination of his intruding thumb and slick mouth was riveting. White hot pleasure overcame your senses aggressively and your legs shook as you came into his eager mouth. Geto drank your juices as if it were the elixir of life. To him, you tasted, heavenly.

“Mmh, good boy, fucking drink my cum.” Shoko hissed while releasing herself on Gojo’s face with a sexy little moan, which you swallowed up while your lips moved against hers seductively. Satoru expertly lapped her cum up with his tongue.

Geto helped you off his face, and now you were sitting on his large lap, face-to-face with him. You noticed that the lower part of his face was slick with your release. He brought his lips down to yours for a tantalizing kiss, you could taste yourself in his mouth.

“Turn around, beautiful.” He whispered while guiding you to body the other way. You lowered your torso so that your ass stuck up in the air. Now you were face to face with Shoko, who was also on all fours.

You and Shoko brought your faces together and began to kiss each other zestfully. Her supple lips moved against yours with the utmost enthusiasm. The sensation of abruptly being filled with Geto’s hefty dick rocked your world. “Ahh!” You moaned out in delight. In this position, he could get extra deep in your wet cunt. You instinctively clamped your thighs together from the intense waves of pleasure going through you.

You felt Suguru’s large hands grip your waist securely as he set into a steady rhythm. Each thrust you and Shoko received, caused your bodies to jolt forward. This caused your kisses to become more sloppy and inexact. You’d try to kiss her on the lips, but a rough thrust from the man behind you, caused you to kiss her cheek instead. Shoko was also having trouble landing her smooches and decided to focus on worshiping your right shoulder instead. You followed her lead and began to leave heated love bites along Shoko’s narrow shoulder.

Gojo unexpectedly flipped Shoko over on her back, all while staying lodged inside her. He slid her body underneath yours, so her face was below your boobs.

“There, now you keep each other busy while Suguru and I do some rearranging,” Satoru grunted huskily, this was something he defiantly wanted to see.

He didn’t have to tell the both of you twice. You leaned down to engulf Shoko’s perky nipple in your mouth. You felt her do the same to you, she even reached up to softly grope your other breast. Her warm wet tongue felt amazing on your sensitive bud. She then began to switch between the two, licking and kissing your soft squishy skin. You copied her swift technique of swapping between her breasts. She smelt ravishing, you could just eat her up, literally!

Gojo and Geto watched in awe while the both of you sucked on each other’s tits as if your lives depended on it. They felt incredibly lucky to whiteness such sultry acts between you two. Satoru couldn’t help but break the distance between him and Suguru and kissed him roughly, while he fucked himself into Shoko.

Suguru gripped the crease where your hips met your thighs and began to ram himself deep inside you with powerful thrusts. His toned pelvis met your bubbly ass cheeks with loud claps.

You felt Geto’s large hand sneak off your waist and down between your legs. His fingers roughly rubbed fast circles across your swollen clit. Your breath hitched and small gasps of approval fell from your lips.

“You feel, mmh, so sacred Y/n,” Geto grunted from behind your bouncing body. Your slick cunt gladly welcomed Suguru with each powerful thrust. “But I think it’s time we switch, I know Satoru would like to have a go at you.”

“Mmh-Kay.” You hummed in understanding.

Geto was right, as soon as he pulled out of you, Gojo was already on his knees beside him. Ready to finish the deed, Shoko was back on all fours and Satoru hastily maneuvered your body so you were on your back now.

“There, good girl. Wrap your legs around my waist.” Gojo purred lowly, his handsome face looked down at your willing body with a sly smirk. You obediently trapped him in between your legs and pulled his toned waist close to your desperate cunt, slick with anticipation.

Satoru rubbed the head of his massive dick against your wet clit. “Ready?”

“Yea-yes!” You whimpered, mid-word because Gojo shoved himself into you balls deep. His lengthy rod filled you up completely. Shoko’s juices made Gojo’s dick nice and slippery, so he could fuck your pussy almost immediately. He set into a viscous rhythm of pounding his dick into you.

Gojo looked down at you with a wicked smile and a wild look in his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

He then shoved your body underneath Shoko’s, you knew what to do and began to suckle on her bouncing boobs. Shoko also returned the favor and bent down to latch onto yours. Geto was fucking her rather roughly and her whole body shook vigorously. Satoru was picking up pace as well, with each thrust from his pounding length, your pussy welcomed him with a wet and tight squeeze.

You felt Satoru’s grip on your waist grow a bit more firm, but he removed both of his hands and hoisted your legs over his shoulders. He shoved your body further down below Shoko’s. From this angle, you could see Geto’s girthy dick penetrating her pretty pussy perfectly. Your intrusive thoughts got the best of you and you swiped your tongue over her sensitive clit.

A moan of approval fell from her lips as you zigzagged your tongue over her nub. You could taste her sweet arousal, she was incredibly wet. Shoko lowered her head down to your cunt and returned the oral favor. She sucked on your clit while fluttering her tongue on it at the same time.

Geto abruptly pulled out of her and pointed his rod towards your lips. You welcomed him down your tight throat. “Yeah babe, just like that.” Suguru hummed in delight. He then removed himself from your throat and continued to plow into Shoko.

Satoru also took advantage of having Shoko’s face near your crotches and fed his dick to her. “Good girl.” He groaned out while Shoko deep-throated him. Gojo humped her face a bit too roughly which caused her to cough in response.

“Fuck y-” Shoko hissed but was cut off when Satoru shoved himself back into her mouth. All she could do was shoot him a spiteful glare.

Gojo abruptly pulled out from her damp mouth and plunged back into you with a pleasured sigh. He slid into you effortlessly thanks to Shoko lubricating his rod with her saliva. As his dick stretched your little wet cunt, you could feel your orgasm bubbling to the surface. He filled you up in just the right way. His hips rammed into yours powerfully, while his speed increased. Breathy moans came out from you that sounded like music to everyone’s ears. Shoko’s teasing tongue on your clit made your release rise even faster to the surface.

You didn’t have to say that you were close, Gojo could feel how close you were. Your walls began to twitch around his plunging dick, beckoning him even deeper inside of you. You could tell that Shoko was on the edge as well, her moans became more frequent and her saturated pussy was dripping onto your lips like raindrops.

Shoko made an adorable little moan when Suguru began to hit that spot in her just right. Her warm honey brown eyes rolled into the back of her head as she released herself all over his dick. This caused Geto to lose himself rather quickly and shot his cum inside of her with a godly hiss of pleasure. You couldn’t hold back any longer either, your pussy clamped down on Satoru’s rod as he relentlessly plowed you. Your orgasm shook you to your core and you drenched his cock with your divine juices. Gojo was sent over the edge when he felt your hot waterfall of cum envelope him, he shot his copious amount of seed deep inside you. He made sure to empty himself in you completely, claiming your cunt as his.

Once everyone regained their senses after experiencing each of their climaxes, Satoru slowly removed himself from you. Suguru pulled out of Shoko’s cunt from above you, and droplets of a mixture of their cum fell onto your face. The hot liquid fell onto your cheek and rolled down to your lips. A dirty thought popped into your mind and you reached up to grab Shoko’s thighs.

“Turn around so I can’t clean you up.” You purred seductively while eyeing her glistening lips with an insatiable hunger.

Shoko did as she was told and swiftly repositioned herself onto your awaiting mouth. She looked down at you with her signature grin, her beauty mark raised closer to her chestnut brown eye. She lowered her slippery pussy down to your hungry mouth. You wrapped your lips around her slick folds, you could immediately taste her sweet arousal and Geto’s salty cum. The combination of their flavors was like a special and unique flavor that you had the pleasure of eating.

With Shoko on her knees, Satoru quickly adjusted her body so she could lean down clean off his dick. Gojo laid on the floor at an angle, so Geto could join in on the fun. Suguru saw his opening and lowered his face to your cream-filled cunt. He made sure to bring his long-spent cock over to Satoru’s lips in the process. Gojo welcomed his dick into his mouth and sucked him off graciously. He was able to taste your sweet and subtle flavor on his rod along with the mixture of Suguru’s cum.

The four of you licked, sucked, and cleaned each other privates with great enthusiasm. A beautiful symphony of moans and groans filled the room while each of you enjoyed your special snacks.

You scooped your tongue into Shoko’s pussy, earning a burst of Suguru’s cum to fall on your awaiting mouth. You slurped up his cream, enjoying the taste. Shoko loved how your fluttering tongue felt while you cleaned her cunt out. Shoko gave Satoru’s rod loving licks, she made sure to even clean off his balls with her mouth. She enjoyed the way Satoru’s cock stood up proudly while she licked off the sticky liquid that coated him. She loved that she could even taste you on him, which made her eager to clean him off.

Gojo had Geto’s dick lodged down his throat, his mouth salivating uncontrollably around his thick rod. Suguru groaned quietly at the welcoming wet squeeze of Gojo’s throat. Satoru felt that he should be the one to clean off Geto since he let Gojo throat fuck him earlier.

Suguru ate the juice from your pussy ravenously, he swiveled his tongue deep inside you in order to get to Gojo’s cum in your sweet center. Suguru enjoyed your cunt as if he was eating a cream pie. Some of Satoru’s cum had dribbled down your thighs, and Geto made sure to lick and kiss that trail away.

Soon enough, everyone’s genitals were free of slick cum. Your clean privates were shiny from wet saliva. Shoko gingerly removed herself from your face, while Geto got up as well. Suguru helped you up with a kind smile.

“I’m thinking we should head to the bedroom for some rest,” Geto murmured, pressing his lips onto your forehead fondly.

“Good idea, I call cuddling with Y/n!” Shoko raised her hand in the air adorably, her boobs jiggled in the air.

“Then I call cuddling Y/n from her other side!” Gojo announced playfully, raising his hand just like Shoko did.

“If that’s the case, then I call cuddling her too,” Suguru added with a dashing smirk.

Moments later you found yourself in Gojo’s king-sized bed. Satoru held you possessively on the right side of your body, while Suguru caressed you lovingly from your left. Shoko nestled herself on top of you, her face burrowed into your supple breasts.

Everyone was spent, and the effects of the alcohol were gradually wearing off. Suguru’s strong bicep made an excellent neck rest for you, while Satoru's arms wrapped around your waist were quite soothing. Shoko’s slender legs were tangled with yours and her breath became more relaxed. Sleep was going to overtake everyone shortly.

As you were about to drift off into sweet slumber, you overheard Satoru whisper. “We should play would you rather, more often.”

Which earned a sleepy chuckle from Suguru.

“Agreed.”

✩࿐ Like my style? Check out my other creations! ✩࿐

[kiss-me-muchoo]

#𝟏 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲���𝐬 || 𝐏𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥

summary_ in which you have a serious relationship with Paul but you start falling for his dad; Pedro… all because it seemed like your boyfriend was in love with his best friend.

warnings_ AU, CRINGE, no proofread, self indulgent, age gap (not specified but reader is early-mid twenties), implied ora; + unprotected sex (be smart irl), cheating, drama, angst, fluff, DELUSION, did i say cringe already?

note_ sure what the hell, I ♡ being so naca, this Rosie album coded, toxic till the end, number one girl and gameboy !!!!!!!

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist

♫ ♪ Paul playlist

✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸

Monotony embraced your life very well. You avoided getting out of your comfort zone and it wasn’t as bad as every therapist likes to point out. Once you were looking out for CDs because vinyls were lovely but too expensive. A random guy reached out and asked if you liked Mitski, you said you were aware of her good music but you were no fan. You thought he would go away after that, but he continued asking what other music you enjoyed. Which led to exchanging numbers, realizing you were mostly opposites but handled a strong tension together.

Paul was a calm and gentle boyfriend, he always came up with the best dates. Going to concerts, secluded bars, underground restaurants, and occasional museum trips. For some time, you had to take planes to visit him. Until university gave you enough peace to allow yourself some freedom.

Now one month into the relationship, you were starting to feel more secure about your feelings for the man in front of you.

“You’ve been staring for too long,” Paul said chuckling, soon returning to smoke a cigarette.

“You want some?”

“I can’t smoke, I’m asthmatic. I like the smell though” you replied rejecting his offer.

“You like the smell of cigarettes?”

“Yeah, they remind me of Las Vegas” he chuckled once again.

Both of you were having drinks in Soho. It was a Friday night and you were extremely close to finishing another fall semester of university.

“Look, they are starting to hang all the Christmas decorations” you point out, watching how a bartender stepped on some creaky stairs to hang ornaments and fake pine leaves.

“I want you to meet my dad,” Paul says.

“What?” your eyes look at him expectantly and shocked.

Wasn’t it a little too fast? But… Did that mean that he was actually trying to make you see that it was serious? That he… loved you?

“Are you sure?” You ask, shyly crossing your arms, pretending to be paying attention to the music playing loudly.

“Of course, I know we’re still new but you’ve already talked with him and I find it… correct?” your cheeks warm up.

All the times his father called, you ended up talking with the old man. Pedro was 49 years old, funny, handsome, adorable, and your boyfriend’s father. He was single since the Irish mother of Paul decided to leave when he was a teenager.

“I’d like that very much. Pedrito is so lovely, so yes, sign me up, honey” he smiles, leaning to give you a kiss.

“I say we arrange it for the holidays” you nod, smiling.

The cold air from outside enters from the wide windows decorating the bar and it makes you shiver.

“Do you want to have dinner here or outside?” you ask Paul.

He shrugs but soon looks outside, wondering.

“Outside. Any options?”

“You know I love sushi”

“Marigold loves sushi too. We always used to go to this place it’s a couple of blocks from here. We could go now…”

There it was.

“Sure, let’s go…” you say, standing up and grabbing your coat and bag. Paul places the tip for the waitress on the table and both of you exit the bar.

Marigold. Cute flower, very similar to daisies. Delicate, sweet, and resourceful. Only that your Marigold was your boyfriend’s best friend, no actual flower. And she was indeed delicate, sweet and resourceful, very pretty, and your biggest insecurity. Nobody was pointing at you with a gun to stay in a relationship where you felt unsure, but you liked to believe you had to be mature. If you decided to bring up the subject, the age gap between you and Paul would be highlighted, leaving you like a crier and immature woman.

Despite the growing aches, you decided to try it with him, thinking it was worth it.

…

The beautiful warm sun of California had something that made you happy despite the dry weather at the beginning of the winter. Paul and you had arrived in Los Angeles to finally meet with his dad. It had been a great time to talk about nonsense and have fun, get to know each other better, and realize how compatible you two were though so different at the same time.

You constantly tapped your index finger against your bag as you waited for Pedro to arrive at the airport.

“Why are you so nervous?” Paul asks before sipping at his boiling tea from a cafeteria.

“Can you tell?” He nods at your question and both share a little smile.

“I don’t know, I usually get nervous when I have to meet new people”

“Dad’s not a stranger. You end up talking with him more than me”

The statement makes you blush.

“You’re perfect, y/n” he kissed your forehead and it made you feel better.

Paul had acquired a liking to hold your hip whenever you two had to walk somewhere. This is why he did exactly that when his phone buzzed, his dad letting him know he had arrived.

Your heart pounded as you two got closer to the exit, but as soon as you saw the tall man leaning against his black car, with a yellow Lakers t-shirt, random jeans, and white sneakers, you felt comfortable. He saw you first and looked adorably happy, he went straight to hug you, which made you feel even more confident and welcome.

“Oh my god, you’re even more lovely in person!” Pedro said, making you chuckle.

“Nice to meet you” You were right about every assumption you made about your boyfriend’s dad. He was sweet, a gentleman, and extremely fucking hot.

“Don’t act like we’re strangers, I think I’ve talked more to you than with my son” Both of you chuckle and you turn to eye Paul, who playfully rolls his eyes before giving a hug to his dad.

“Yeah, you make me lose all of her attention whenever you’re on the phone” Paul adds jokingly, although you realize it wasn’t a complete joke.

“Your old man is very funny, honey” Pedro laughs at your comment as you and Paul exchange silly smiles.

At that moment you had to retrieve any kind of thought because you would end up spilling the three most dangerous words.

I • love • you

You knew it wasn’t time to tell those things to Paul. You wanted to wait.

And when you eyed his dad, you had him already looking at you.

The way he sends a very tiny smirk makes you nervous and sets an odd pooling sensation in your lower stomach.

Welcome to California, bitch. You have a boyfriend you love but can’t tell him yet because he hasn’t said it as well. And his hot dad was there sending you a playful smirk that could be a risk.

…

Christmas is around the corner but it’s a dry warm day when Pedro says his neighbor is throwing a little gathering and he wants to meet Paul. You had no problem and you agreed to accompany them.

Things felt right.

You let out a moan as you feel the waves of an orgasm hitting you, making your legs open wider than ever.

“That was… perfect,” you say between breaths, looking at how your boyfriend popped his head up from under your skirt.

“It’s always a pleasure to eat you out” You cringe at his words and it’s involuntary when you start laughing.

“Gosh, don’t say it like that, Paul” he also laughs, you know he said it like that to bother you but still.

“Are we taking a shower or not?”

“Yes, but let's be a little quick because I need to help your dad with the pie I promised…” Once Pedro learned you liked a cheesecake pie, he wouldn’t shut up and beg you to do one.

“Good because I’m waiting for a call from Marigold,” Paul says entering the bathroom, shirtless and with his hair all messy.

“What for?” You ask with genuine curiosity, a little too much.

“Just ‘cause” you don’t like the tone he used, nor the silly little smile he had as soon as the subject was his best friend.

…

A grill was on, the music was loud enough to make you raise your voice while talking and overall you were having a great time.

Pedro’s neighbors were the sweetest, a Cuban marriage that welcomed you as soon as Paul and his dad presented you to them.

“This food is amazing,” you say pointing at the Cuban torta the hosts made for you.

“It is…” Paul says with his mouth full and you have to let out a laugh while cleaning his upper lip with your napkin.

He smiles at the gesture and both of you lean at the same time to have a quick but soft kiss.

“I lo- I’ll look up if there’s flan left”

You stand up quickly and leave towards the food table making a mess. For the second time, you were about to tell Paul you love him.

Your hands try to fit a big portion of flan into a little plate but a hand on your lower back startles you.

“Are you doing alright, sweetheart?” Pedro asks and it has you blushing because he had to lean and talk in your ear to be loud enough. You can smell his perfume of sandalwood, rum, and neroli. His hands were never cold, unlike Paul’s.

“I’m loving it. The food is perfect, Pedro. Thanks for taking me here…” you admit shyly.

“It’s nothing, baby” you almost scream at the nickname.

“Pedro! Tráete a esa linda muchacha a bailar si tu hijo no la saca!” The Cuban woman tells the old man and you understand everything she said. You are about to retrieve but Pedro grabs you by the waist and drags you near the couple.

“Oh no, Pedro, I don’t dance…”

There’s a song playing in Spanish and more people are already dancing. You turn to look at Paul who was already eyeing you and started laughing, cheering to see you dance with his dad. It’s subtle the way Pedro starts holding you, soon he grabs both of your hands and has you twirling around and giggling. Hidden somewhere you had the moves, easily you reciprocate and let yourself lose it a little.

“You move really well, sweetheart,” Pedro says smirking and it has you gasping in subtle shock.

“Yeah?” Out of nowhere, you are able to gain a straight answer with a naughty tone that makes his smirk disappear, only to appear again seconds later. His brown eyes lock with yours and suddenly you remember you have a boyfriend.

At the same time, a gorgeous older blonde woman comes and Pedro greets her, breaking that little spell you and him had going on.

“Vane! You look lovely!” He says hugging her.

Both start talking and you know it’s your queue to leave, so you excuse yourself, feeling an odd sensation in your chest. It couldn’t be jealousy. You had a boyfriend waiting for you at a nearby table and was the son of the man that you feeling weird things.

Quickly that’s forgotten when Paul waits for you with open arms and you take the courage to sit in his lap since everyone is too busy at the party to pay attention.

“You really have the moves, baby,” he says making you smile, locking your arms around him.

“Hmm, pretty sure you know them too well” Your comment has you blushing and fuels your ego as much as you want to deny it.

“I might need another demonstration” he adds with a deep voice that has you drenching your panties in a flash. You kiss him and as soon as you touch his lips, it’s messy, sloppy, and has you on fire.

Paul must feel the same because his hands caress your hips and pull you even closer, which makes you want to straddle him but you won’t since you’re still a the party. It ends up with your tongues fighting for control and you have to cut out a moan.

Then his phone beeps.

“Wait-“

You sigh, pulling away. He holds the phone and then looks up at you.

“It’s Marigold, she’s asking if she can call me”

“Go ahead, I think I’ll leave now”

“Sure?” Paul asks you.

“Yes, dear. I’ll meet you back at your dad’s home” he nods.

As you walk away, you can’t ignore the anxiety building up in your chest.

…

The next morning, you are having breakfast with Paul and Pedro when he receives another call from Marigold. Paul literally bolts away, looking so excited as soon as he answers.

“He always does that thing?”

“What thing?” you softly ask, chewing at the steak with eggs.

“Getting so excited over a phone call?” Pedro asks with a grin.

“Just for Marigold” you spit out with bitterness. You look at him with wide eyes, realizing you sounded so jealous and even rude.

“I’m sorry…” Pedro smiles briefly, already understanding everything.

“Have you talked about it with him?” You shake your head, looking at Paul, who couldn’t stop smiling while talking and looking down.

“No, of course not. I’m afraid it’ll make me look immature” you shyly answer.

“Sweet girl, I love my son but you have to talk to him. Communication is key to making it work out” You nod at him. Pedro senses your sad smile and gently touches your hand.

“Both of us will figure it out. My boy is god and he wouldn’t hurt you. Anyways… you two have plans for tonight?” You shrug.

“Paul said he wanted to take me to Glendale. To the mall and see that Barnes and Noble of three floors” you confess laughing. Even Pedro knew how much you loved going to libraries to find new books and magazines.

“That sounds nice”

“And you? Any dates?” Pedro chuckles, drinking from his extremely black coffee.

“No, no, dear. I’m staying home tonight” you nod, understanding him.

…

You had already paid for three books, Paul got you coffee and both of you were seated on the floor reading a magazine of haunted places. Barnes and Noble were full of ornaments, a giant Christmas tree, and soft music playing on the first floor that could be faintly heard from the third.

“Native American folklore can be scary. It’s very interesting…” you say after reading about an old myth many tribes used to believe in before colonization.

“I’m trying to think about the most famous ghost from Ireland…” Paul says and it makes you laugh.

“You have to take me to a haunted house. It would be an odd but amazing date” you say.

Paul nods smiling, his blue eyes are so pretty that you could stay looking at them for hours.

“You got lost in my eyes, baby?” He sounds cocky, flirty and you love it.

“How couldn’t? You are so fucking handsome”

“And what about you? Pretty hot I’d say…”

You’re so in love, you want to scream it. You look at Paul again, his beard and mustache made him look so damn well, slightly older but perfect.

Maybe it was the perfect time to say it.

His fucking phone beeps again and the moment is ruined.

“No way… Marigold is here with his boyfriend!” Paul announces.

“Oh?”

“They want me to help them with a little improvised photography session”

“Like right now?” You ask, crossing your arms and showing your discomfort.

“It would be very fast. You can come with me or wait here”

You laugh.

“Are you being serious?” Paul stops texting and looks at you, noticing that you aren’t comfortable.

“Would it be that bad?” You roll your eyes, anger building up.

“Paul, I’ll be very straight to the point. I don’t like how often you come with something related to Marigold”

“She’s my best friend, y/n”

“Oh I’m fucking aware of that,” you say standing up from the floor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paul asks sounding very accusatory. You chuckle with disappointment, grabbing the bag of your purchases.

“Ever since our very first date you had to mention her. Marigold likes this, Marigold doesn’t like that. It’s everything I do you have to compare me with her!”

“Keep your voice down,” he says whispering, acknowledging you both were in a library. You sigh, looking down at your pointed boots.

“I would never compare you with her, y/n. I know we are a new thing but you’re being so insecure…” you gasp at his words.

“Is it, Paul? Or when are you going to admit that you are in love with a woman who doesn’t love you back?” He bit his lip and looked away, clearly annoyed.

“I’m going…” Paul said firmly and it broke your heart.

“What a shame. All this weekend I’ve been trying to restrict myself from screaming how much I’m in love with you. Doesn’t matter anymore…” you say before leaving. You hear Paul calling you but you don’t come back, you leave the library and start walking through the crowded streets.

Midway and you couldn’t hold the tears anymore. You question if Paul ever felt attracted to you. Or if he agreed to go out on that first date just because. You know Marigold loves him too, but just as a friend. What made Paul fall in love with her so hard? Sex, things in common, or pure connection? You’d probably never know, but you wouldn’t stay to try to find out.

You arrive at Pedro’s house made a mess of tears.

“Woah, What happened, doll?” Pedro asked, leaving the table he was sitting on to go with you.

“Your son is an asshole” you reply quickly trying to brush past him but he wrapped his arms around and you gave up.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe here…”

“I can’t stay, Pedro…”

“What happened?” He pleads.

“Just take me to a hotel. I don’t mind paying a lot, just take me, please…” he nods, grabbing your hand and going straight to the kitchen, to make you a hot tea before packing your things.

…

Pedro takes you to a small, cozy, and secluded hotel near Pasadena. The trip was quiet and he stood by your side until you had a room secured.

You never smoked, but that night you wanted to feel something, so you asked Pedro for a cigarette and you almost finished it on the balcony of your room.

“I don’t want you to go…” you admit, throwing the cigarette he gave you and stepping on it.

“I won’t go…” Pedro said, leaning on the railing of the balcony.

“You were great. I love your place and I feel at home. But…” you sigh, throwing your hands in the air in desperation.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked and you slowly nodded.

“There’s not much to talk about. I am crazy about your son. Millions of girls would die to have a boyfriend like him. He’s almost perfect. But… It’s so obvious he loves Marigold. And as long he feels that way about her… he won’t last in any relationship I’m afraid”

“That’s what I told him. And when he came with the news of you. I thought that Marigold thing was gone. Guess not…” you nod at him.

You and Pedro exchange looks.

“Thank you for everything, Pedro. You’ve been so good…” you want to run your fingers through his hair and caress him in your arms.

It’s so wrong to have that type of thinking given that you probably just finished a relationship with his son.

“You’re a good girl, you deserve it all”

The proximity was dangerous, one little movement and you could end up kissing him.

“Why do I feel this way?” You ask whispering. Pedro looks down at your lips and it’s over.

“How?” He asks.

“Like I want you to kiss me so hard”

He did it. Pedro kissed you and it took you by surprise but soon you reciprocated. His lips were softer, warm, and sweet. The old man had the touch.

“Tell me to stop”

“But I don’t want you to…” you answer, leaving a trail of kisses near his jaw and his neck, he gasps softly, closing his eyes.

“Please…” you bed, caged between his broad chest and the railing of the balcony.

“I’ll treat you right, sweetheart…”

He placed you on the bed and you were already gone. His weight on top of you felt right. Your first reward was your hand trailing the length of his tent. He had a pair of dark grey joggers and he looked extremely hot.

“That’s a good girl…” he literally moaned while caressing your hips. You slipped your hands underneath his pants and he slid your panties to the side soon. And for some time, you were near tears because of his tip, constantly dragging across your wet folds.

Thankfully this time weren’t tears of sadness and pain. They were tears of pleasure.

…

Darkness remains across the room when you open your eyes. You feel light as a feather. But soon guilt starts flowing. Even worse when Pedro’s arms feel so nice around you. Protectively holding you against his chest. You can feel his peaceful heartbeats and it melts yours. But that isn’t what woke you up.

It’s the cold air entering from the open slide door. The curtains flow and there's barely any type of illumination with the help of the moon.

Carefully you are able to leave the bed without waking up the old man sleeping. You slip into Pedro’s big purple Lakers tee and finally walk to close the door. The streets are empty and only a few crickets can be heard in the distance.

Then you hear your phone vibrating.

It’s 2:41 am. You have eight phone calls missing and three unread messages from Paul. The messages are being sent right at that moment.

→ I know I fucked it up. Please tell me where you are, y/n.

→ I’m truly sorry.

→ I love you. And I mean it.

You sigh, closing your eyes in an attempt to wash away the guilt. But then you turn to look at Pedro who peacefully rested. You remembered every single date with Paul and how the name of Marigold had to come along ever since the first one. Then the guilt dissipated. But it didn’t disappear.

__________________________________

Taglist: @izzy02soph @gisellec1 @princezzleia @angelbunny222 @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @hc-geralt-23

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe <;3

series masterlist

-

Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up. 

He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.

How will he keep going? 

Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one. 

The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment. 

“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles. 

The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.” 

“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer. 

The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar. 

“Hey Tony.” 

Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling. 

“Hey Ed, how’s it going?” 

Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?” 

Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.” 

“With what?” 

Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.

“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.” 

“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve. 

“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?” 

Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is. 

“Get lost, freak.” 

“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness. 

“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back. 

Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read. 

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either. 

Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales. 

It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room. 

Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave. 

Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about? 

Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing? 

How did you even meet him? 

You never even talked to him when you were still with him. 

“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.” 

Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.” 

“Tell your old man to come by too.”

“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves. 

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie. 

“Hey! This is too much, kid!” 

“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there. 

Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up. 

“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes. 

Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van. 

“What do you want, Harrington?” 

Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.

“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him. 

Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?” 

Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now. 

“You’re the stoner.”

Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.” 

Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?” 

Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?” 

“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily. 

A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance. 

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation. 

“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up. 

“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?” 

The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t. 

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around. 

“Put those keys away, dude.”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion. 

“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”

Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson. 

“I’ll walk.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”

It’s not about that, it’s about you. 

Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance. 

“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.” 

Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van. 

Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”

Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on. 

“Your music sucks.”

“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.

Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot. 

The song takes him back to last year, back to you. 

“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap. 

“A Song?" He asked, chuckling. 

You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist. 

“Uh– probably, Heroes.” 

“By David Bowie?” 

“Yeah.” 

You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.

“Isn’t it sad though?” 

Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did. 

“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,

and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?” 

Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing. 

He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”

“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!” 

 “Then keep going.”

“No,” you giggled. 

“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips. 

“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang. 

You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed. 

“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.” 

“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat. 

Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest. 

Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve. 

“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like? 

Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie. 

“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van. 

Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.

Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew. 

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault. 

He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little. 

“We’re here.” 

Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley. 

“I miss her.”

Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat. 

“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”

“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?” 

Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick. 

“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”

Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again. 

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”

Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that. 

“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.” 

Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods. 

“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?” 

Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much? 

Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him. 

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more. 

“Spit it out, dude.” 

Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm. 

“T-Take care of her?” 

Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.

“I will.”

Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit. 

He walks away when he feels like breaking down again. 

He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips. 

He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how? 

How? 

-

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up. 

How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable. 

Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle. 

Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick. 

She hums, glancing at you through your mirror. 

Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave. 

“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?” 

“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.

She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray. 

“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.” 

Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie. 

“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”

You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”

“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.

“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face. 

“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”

“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her. 

She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.

You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face. 

“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night. 

You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you. 

She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.

The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.

The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones. 

Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave? 

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks. 

You nod, smiling at her. 

“You seem a little overwhelmed.” 

“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.” 

“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes. 

Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned. 

“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.” 

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.” 

“As always,” you snort.  

“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you. 

“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”

She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you. 

“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.” 

He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously. 

“Y/n?” Heather glares at you. 

“Have fun, babe.” 

You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it. 

You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates. 

A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup. 

“Hey.”

You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. 

“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”

You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing. 

He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness. 

“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch. 

“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse. 

He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”

You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it. 

You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away. 

You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him. 

You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink. 

You wish you would have stayed at home. 

You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks. 

You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.

His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened. 

He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly. 

None of it makes sense to you. 

If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened? 

Why is he still with her? 

Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along? 

The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill? 

Are they already going downhill? 

Is that why he told you he still loves you? 

So that he has someone to come back to? 

You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse. 

Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 

It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better. 

You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat. 

“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?” 

Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.

A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”

“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”

You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks. 

You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle. 

“You look beautiful, sweetheart!” 

He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” 

He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.” 

“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head. 

He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.” 

You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always. 

“You look amazing, Eddie.”

He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up. 

“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.

You can’t even help but giggle. 

“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance. 

He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”

Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?” 

He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes. 

“My knight in shining armor,” you tease. 

He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them. 

A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear. 

"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders. 

“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.

“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh. 

Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear. 

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.

Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do. 

Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.

You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”

Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”

“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly. 

“Okay,” she smiles. 

When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him. 

But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden. 

His are filled with longing and sadness. 

Yours are filled with indifference. 

You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself. 

Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

"Yes, please." 

next part

only tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can

[munson-blurbs]

Joker!Eddie Munson x Harley Quinn!Reader

Summary: You're a psychologist who has always done the right thing. Enter Eddie Munson, mandated to attend court-ordered counseling sessions, who has a devilish side you can't resist.

WC: 2.9k

Warnings: dark fic, loosely based on Joker and Harley's story, mention of drug dealing, mention of parental abandonment and death, murder, ex!Jason Carver/Harvey Dent, arson, power imbalance, allusions to smut

A/N: Before y'all say anything, I know that Joker and Harley have a toxic relationship. Eddie and Reader bring out the worst in each other, but this is *clears throat* FANFIC! So long live these fake toxic relationships. And big thank you to @corroded-hellfire for her help with the lore. Happy Halloween!

Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie Munson didn’t sit down once for the entire duration of his first session. 

Most of your clients opted for the couch. The more nervous ones sitting so close to the worn cushion’s edge that they nearly fell off, while the more experienced ones practically lounged as they recounted whatever horrors had occurred since their last session. 

Eddie paced back and forth, his Reeboks wearing a hole in the mildewed carpet, only pausing when he needed to light a cigarette. 

“I mean, this is bullshit.” He took a drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Twenty fuckin’ years, I get shoved to the side, and now they think some shrink is gonna fix all my problems?”

‘They’ most likely referred to Chief Hopper, who had been the one to recommend Eddie receive court-mandated therapy instead of serving time in jail for possession with intent to distribute. The police chief had become soft ever since adopting that teenage daughter, which was probably why Eddie was in your dingy office rather than behind bars. 

Your gaze flicked over the tattoos on his arms, visible where he’d cut his shirt sleeves, and looked him in the eyes. “Have you been to therapy before, Eddie?”

He threw his head back and laughed so violently that you dropped your pen. Before you could reach for it, Eddie picked it up and placed it in your lap, his fingertips grazing the hem of your skirt. 

“After my dad got locked up for, oh, I dunno, the tenth time?” Eddie shook his head and laughed again, though this one was quieter. “My uncle took me to talk to some shrink. Turns out that my old man had actually stolen the guy’s car. Small fuckin’ world, huh?” He scratched at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, he told us never to come back. So we didn’t.”

Your heart broke for the child he once was, rejected by a therapist while coping with his father’s incarceration. “Where was your mother?” You asked softly. 

Eddie flicked some ash into the ashtray. “She’d been dead for a while at that point.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be.” His face lit up, smiling too hard to properly take another drag of his cigarette. “At least she didn’t have to deal with any of this shit. All she had to do was be worm food.”

The visual made your stomach turn, but Eddie was grinning. 

“Aww, c’mon, Sweetheart” he pouted jokingly, snuffing out his cigarette. “You gotta appreciate some dark humor once in a while.”

The nickname would have earned any other man a stern look, maybe even a warning for dismissal, but it felt so right coming from Eddie. 

“Do you use humor to cope?” 

He twisted a skull ring around his finger and walked over to where you sat before crouching down in front of you. 

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do here.” One hand found your knee, his nail catching on a run in your black tights. Eddie peered up at you, lips twisting into an unsettling smile. “But I’m not dealing because I’m sad or trying to fill a void left behind by my parents. I’m doing it to survive in this shithole.”

He rose then and resumed his pacing while he ranted. “We can sit here all goddamn day and talk about my daddy issues, or my mommy issues, or how the system failed poor Eddie Munson over and over and over. And maybe I’ll leave here feeling slightly less shitty about myself. But you know what that won’t do?” He didn’t wait for your response. “It won’t put food on the table or keep the lights on. It won’t stop the bank from taking my trailer. Greedy bastards.”

Only when you remained silent did Eddie glance over at you with his wide brown eyes, as though he’d just remembered his speech had an audience. “You can put all that in your notes. Show it to Chief Hopper, to the judge; I don’t care.”

You closed the marble notebook perched in your lap and capped your pen. “I’m not trying to fix you, Eddie,” you said. “I just want to know you.”

“No, you don’t.” Eddie huffed out a chuckle. “You wanna get inside my brain. You can’t help it. I’m an interesting guy.”

He was. You’d always been interested in understanding people; how they thought and how it affected their behaviors. It was why you chose a career in psychology. But Eddie had something beyond that—a magnetic pull that drew you in, no matter how many times you silently reminded yourself to maintain those professional boundaries. 

For the remaining twenty minutes of your session, you dug for as much information about Eddie as you could get. He played guitar, took six years to graduate high school because of an algebra teacher who was determined to flunk him, and kept a notebook of his own to plan Dungeons & Dragons campaigns.

If you didn’t have another client immediately after him, you would have let him keep talking. You clung to every word like a lifeline, noting the little mannerisms peppered into his personality. 

Eddie spoke with his hands and ran his fingers through his knotted curls when he was particularly agitated or passionate about a topic. His nose scrunched when he asked questions that required your approval. He’d lick his lips every so often, and his tongue poked out of his mouth when he was concentrating. Every movement was intoxicating.

Your next session was more of the same, though this time, Eddie actually sat down on the couch. He lit a cigarette before speaking, taking a drag and holding it out to you. 

You watched the smoke curl around his fingertips, beckoning you to accept his offer. It was wrong; sure, you could smoke during a session, but to share a cigarette with a client? You shouldn’t. You couldn’t. 

You did. 

“There ya go,” Eddie murmured under his breath, watching your chest rise with the inhale and fall with the exhale. “Sweetheart, ya gotta take the edge off once in a while. Do something that makes you smile.”

You cocked your head teasingly, holding the cigarette hostage for a moment longer. “Aren’t I supposed to be helping you?”

“We can help each other.” He plucked the cigarette from your grasp. “Watch.”

Your gaze stayed on his lips, full and slightly chapped from the bitter winter, as he inhaled deeply. He crooked a finger, and your body moved of its own volition to the spot beside him. 

His thumb pulled at your lower lip, a question he could already answer. His mouth found yours, not in a kiss, but just to transfer the smoke he’d been holding back; tobacco mixed with a subtle hint of spearmint. 

“How do you feel now?” Eddie hadn’t moved back, and you felt every word he spoke. 

All you could do was nod, focusing every ounce of energy on going back to your chair. The distance suddenly seemed too far; any distance from Eddie seemed too far. You wanted to be in his lap, sharing the remainder of that cigarette, drawing you in closer…

Swallowing your steadily building desire, you forced yourself to ask him a question that didn’t pertain to the way he tasted. “W-What was it like moving in with your uncle?”

Eddie laughed darkly, taking in your nervousness like he knew exactly how brainless he’d made you. “My uncle, huh? All right, I’ll bite” He stretched, revealing a thin trail of hair that started at his navel and dipped below the waist of his jeans. There was a sick gleam in his eyes when he caught you staring, but he said nothing about it.

He told you about a police officer dropping him off on Wayne Munson’s doorstep in the middle of the night after his father had been arrested. 

“Just me and a trash bag full of clothes that barely fit me,” he proclaimed. “Oh, and the headlice tagging along. Ended up having to shave these gorgeous locks.” He shook his head to exaggerate his point.

“That must’ve been really traumatic for you.” You tapped your pen on your notebook absently, somewhat aware that you should be writing this information down, but not able to look away from him.

Eddie shrugged. “Not really. It grew back.”

“I meant…never mind.” You tucked your lips into your mouth to stifle a giggle.

He looked as though he wanted to say something, but your actions distracted him.

“Don’t hide your smile.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, letting you feel the gravity saturating his words. “Makes me happy when you smile.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was laughing at you.”

He clicked his tongue in mock sympathy, like he pitied you. It was a gesture you were unused to seeing from your clients. “You wouldn’t be the first, Sweetheart.” Eddie sat forward. “You might have been the first to feel bad about it, though.”

Over the following weeks, your sessions with Eddie followed the same routine. You would ask him questions and he would answer them cryptically. Shared cigarettes became more frequent as you convinced yourself it was good for building rapport.

In the early days of spring, where winter’s chill still peeked in each morning, Eddie opened the door to your office and found you crying in your chair. Most clients waited for you to get them from the waiting room, but he always let himself in.

The moment you heard the hinges creaking, you swiped at the tears dampening your cheeks. Embarrassment flooded your veins and heated you from the inside out at the thought of him seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

He was at your side in a heartbeat, reaching for the tissue box you kept on your bookshelf. “What’s wrong?” There was venom in his tone, ready to bite at a moment’s notice.

“N-Nothing,” you lied clumsily, convincing neither him nor yourself. “Just a bad day.”

Eddie gritted his teeth. “Don’t fuckin’ do that, Sweetheart.” He grabbed your chin and brought your full attention with it. “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Not when I’ve been honest with you.”

The story spilled out before you could think better of it: You’d woken up that morning to your ex-boyfriend banging on your front door, screaming to let you in, his slurred words informing you that he was drunk. Calling the police would be futile; he was buddies with the whole department and more than likely had them in his back pocket. All you could think to do in that moment was hide under your covers until he eventually gave up and left.

Eddie tensed, never losing his grip on you. “Did he hurt you?” His breathing quickened, fight-or-flight activated. “I swear to God, Sweetheart, if he put his hands on you–”

“No,” you hurriedly assured him. “No, he just scared me. But Jason’s never–” Your eyes widened when you said his name aloud; all at once, you realized your error.

“Jason…Carver?” Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “The hell were you doing with an asshole like him?” He shook his head before you could answer. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he never bothers you again.” Rage flashed in his eyes. “Just say the word, and I’ll do it.”

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?” There was no way…he wouldn’t…

He crossed his arms over his chest, obscuring the view of the devil on his shirt. “Do you remember a few years ago when Harrington Enterprises was planning to shut down the plant to build those luxury condos?”

You nodded, wondering where he was going with this. Warren Harrington had all but signed on the dotted lines, but he’d been murdered in his own home before he closed the deal. Rumor had it that his own son, Steve, had orchestrated it in order to gain control of the family fortune. An investigation came up without any suspects, and the plant remained open. 

“If they had their way, my uncle and all of his buddies would be out of a job, and then they’d lose their cars, their homes…well, you know how it goes.” Eddie smirked. “So I did what I had to do to stop that from happening.”

“You…” you lowered your voice in case anyone was listening in, “you killed Warren Harrington?”

He bristled preemptively, only relaxing when he didn’t detect any  judgment. “I’d do anything to protect the people I love.” Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks, the calluses scratching at your skin. “I’ll kill Carver if it’ll keep you safe, Sweetheart. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Everything about this was wrong. He was threatening to commit homicide for you because he loved you. 

You needed to stop this. It had gone too far. And yet you couldn’t, not when he was pleading to let him take care of you. All of your career, all of your life, you had been expected to clean up everyone else’s messes. You were the one who fixed other people’s mistakes, who solved their problems. To lift that burden from your shoulders, to let someone else take it on…

“I love you, too, Eddie.” You reached out and took his steady hands in your trembling ones. “I love you so much.”

“Okay. Good.” Eddie sighed deeply, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. There was a flicker of amusement when he pulled back and saw the concern on your face. “C’mon, baby. You should be happy. Here.” He reached behind your chair and grabbed your bag, rummaged through it. Deft fingers uncapped your ruby red lipstick and drew a Black Dahlia smile on his lips, extending from one clean-shaven cheek to the other. “Now, close your eyes.”

You did as he asked, placing full trust in him. You expected him to draw a similar smile on you; instead, he pressed his mouth to yours, transferring some of the makeup to your face.

The words I love you kept falling from your lips, muffled only by the hungry kisses you eagerly gave and accepted. Zippers were unfastened, buttons undone, clothes strewn across your office floor. For a moment, the only sounds were the soft moans and panting breaths that punctuated the silence. It was love, and it was perfect.

It all happened so fast.

You woke up the next morning to sirens blaring down the street, a never-ending parade of noise and flashing lights. There was no way Eddie had already done something to Jason; you’d just talked about it yesterday. Killing one of Hawkins’ most beloved citizens would certainly take more than twelve hours of deliberation.

If Eddie had struck, he wouldn’t have been able to escape unnoticed. 

Black smoke billowed from one of the Loch Nora mansions, visible even in the less wealthy parts of town. You could hear your neighbors clamoring, and the consensus was that it was the Carver house that was burning to the ground.

You drove straight to the county jail, not even stopping off at work or letting them know you wouldn’t be in. The fear of being reprimanded paled in comparison to Eddie’s fate.

Flashing your government ID, you bolted through the doors and blew past the guards. Sure enough, Eddie Munson sat behind the bars of a cell, head in his beautiful hands. The same hands that had touched you just yesterday, fumbling with the tiny buttons of your blouse. The man who was larger than life during your sessions suddenly seemed so small.

“Puddin’?” 

Eddie glanced up when he heard the nickname you’d given him. “Baby, I…I didn’t kill him. I tried, but he got out. Forgot that rich people have those smoke detector things,” he added with a wry smile. It was then that you saw that his mouth was still stained with remnants of your lipstick. “But when he ran out of the house it looked like half of his face had burned off.”

Of course he’d stuck around to see the aftermath of his destruction.

“We can talk about this later. Okay?” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “We’re getting out of town. And we’re never coming back. I’m gonna tell the guards that I’m taking you out for a therapy session. Just follow my lead.”

Eddie was uncharacteristically quiet, so much so that you worried the guards might apprehend him because he wasn’t talking. Their narrowed eyes followed you and Eddie until you exited the building.

“My girl is a natural-born deceiver.” Eddie laced his fingers with yours. “So proud.”

You laughed. “If they gave us any trouble, I might’ve had to knock them out with their own clubs.” When you started towards your sedan, Eddie tugged you in the opposite direction. “My car is–”

“Forget it. Leave it here.” His eyes scanned the parking lot. “We’ll take that one.” He clocked your confusion and let out a raucous laugh. “Al Munson may have been a deadbeat, but he did teach me one thing.”

You slipped your arm around his waist. “Looks like I have a lot to learn.” 

“It’s gonna be me and you against the world, baby.” Eddie pulled you closer and whispered in your ear. “We’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”

--

[detroit-become-hurt]

Sweet Thing

So to kickstart this block again I'm regressing into old hyperfixations. So here's a fanfic I'm working on for The Lost Boys! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Moving to Santa Carla was a sudden decision, but something about it just felt right. There was something about that place, calling you to it, you just didn't know what.

Or: you're drawn to Santa Carla cause you're the final mate of The Lost Boy's pack

I sighed heavily as I sat on a bench at the boardwalk. Santa Carla was fun for the first week upon moving here, but after that it sort of just lost its charm. It was the same routine of showing up to work at the little oddities shop between the chinese take out place and some other little resturant that served the greasiest burgers. It wasn’t a bad job, but it wasn’t always the busiest as there were other attractions to see that were much more interesting. The shop consisted of bad taxidermy, crystals, fake skulls (which a lot of people thought were real), and tarot cards/readings. It wasn’t a bad gig, just again, not the busiest. 

Tonight was my night off, and I really had no idea what to do. I decided sitting here was better than sitting at home, with even less to do. Deciding it was best to grab some food I stood up, making my way over towards the shop and the chinese place. Chinese sounded good for dinner. As I neared the resturant, I couldn’t help but notice a group of bikers loitering outside the shop. There was two blondes, rough housing with each other. A tall dark haired main leaned on the wall of the front of the shop, watching the two blondes wrestle. And finally, leaned against one of four bikes was a third blond, a cigarette balanced between his lips. His eyes flitted through the crowd, taking in faces, a dark look lurking behind them.

It wasn’t really of any concern to me seeing these four, Santa Carla was full of different types of people, and I’ve seen them around before at different places on the boardwalk. We never interacted before, but a cloud of trouble oozed off of them. I tried to keep to myself. 

Ordering my food I waited to the side for them to finish preparing it, tapping my foot lightly as I listened to the sounds around me. Rollercoasters whizzed by with screams that lasted mere seconds, loud carnival music and people chattering away. It was almost overwhelming, the sounds. But you grow used to it pretty fast. Finally my order was called, and I picked up the bag containing the food. Upon closer inspection I realized that they had gotten my order wrong…but it wasn’t worth arguing. They ended up giving me more than what I ordered, I wasn’t going to complain.

“Perhaps Sandra would want some of this…” I wondered out loud, thinking of my coworker who was currently working tonight. Deciding I would share my feast, I walked over to the shop, towards the group of four bikers. As I approached, I caught the attention of the blonde leaning against the bike. His eyes trailed up and down me slowly, sizing me up. “Um…excuse me. Could you move your bikes, so I can like…get inside the store.” I asked, trying to maintain eye contact.

“You want us…to move our bikes…so you can go inside?” He repeats back to me, and I instantly knew what he was doing.

“Yes. You, move bikes. I go, inside?” I throw back, raising an eyebrow. The banter between the two of us caught the attention of the other three. The second blonde with curled ringlets going down his back couldn’t help but snicker, flashing me a dangerous smile and a wink when I looked his way. “Really it would just be easier if you moved, so I don’t have to weave in and out of your guys bikes and risk knocking one over. So what’s it gonna be pretty boy?” I asked shifting weight on my feet.

The third blond, who’s hair was teased to high hell and back laughed loudly. “Aw come on sugar, if anyone’s pretty here it’s you.” He says wrapping an arm his friend with the ringlets. “Do we at least get to know your name?” 

“What’s your name? I’ve seen you guys around before.” I say chewing my lip. I really did not expect to get into such a conversation, but it seemed like there was no backing out now. “If I tell you my name, will you please move your bikes?” I throw in, hoping they would indeed do as I asked.

His grin widens, and he sauntered down the steps, wrapping his arm around me. The smell of aqua net hair spray and weed overtook my senes. “I’m Paul. That’s Marko, Dwayne, and David.” He says pointing each of them out. “And I…have definetly not seen you around here. Are you new?” he questions.

Slipping out of his arm I nod, “I’m y/n. And yes, I am new. I just moved here about a week and a half ago.” I say. “Now really, this is quite the lovely chat but I think I’m just gonna weave around the bikes. Sorry to bother you.”

David holds his hand up, stopping my movements. “Hang on there sweet thing, you didn’t give me a chance to answer. Since I am a man of my word, we will move our bikes.” It’s funny he says that, cause he never mentioned giving me his word. But oh well. “Come on boys, let’s get out of here. We’ll see you around y/n.” he gives me a smirk, again something hiding behind his expression as the other three revved their bikes to life. With hoots and hollers they revved the engines a few more times before taking off, nearly hitting me in the process.

“Fuckin assholes,” I mutter as my heart pounds in my chest. Finally walking up the steps I walk inside, “Sandra! It’s me! I brought some food, the chinese place messed up the order.” Walking to the counter I set the food down, taking it out and arranging it so we could easily grab what we wanted. 

Sandra comes out from the back, a yawn errupting from her lips. “Oh thank god, I was going to fall asleep back there. Hey, did you hear like, motocrycle sounds?” She asks as she grabs some food.

Between swallows I nod, “Yeah. Some bikers out front. I asked them to move, and it took a minute but they did. Who knew all I had to do was give them my name.” I say. “I got their names in return. David, Marko, Paul, Dwayne. Interesting group of guys. I’ve seen them around the boardwalk before.” 

Sandra freezes, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Y/n…please tell me you’re joking. Like say sike right now.” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, anxiousness radiating into my bubble.

“What’s the big deal? They’re not trouble are they?” 

“Oh yes they’re trouble! They’re dangerous y/n. They’re always in trouble with security on the boardwalk, bothering people.” Sandra’s looking me dead in the eyes now, a look I can’t place. 

Finishing up my food I wipe my mouth, “Okay. I’ll keep my distance. Can’t blame me too much you know, I just moved here.” A part of me was annoyed. I appreciated her concern, but again I just moved here. And the boys seemed nice enough…although that doesn’t make up for the fact that I don’t know them.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just really like you and I don’t want you to end up on a missing person’s poster. It would suck to not have you in my life anymore.” That was one thing I was definetly grateful for, was my quick friendship with Sandra. She took me around, showed me the ropes, and was always there should I have needed anything in my short time in Santa Carla.

“Thank you, Sandra. Really.” Glancing at the clock on the wall I sighed, “I should probably get going, it’s getting late and I have to work a twelve hour tomorrow.” 

Sandra gives me a sympathetic look. “Well if you need anything, give me a holler okay? Seeya later!” Her voice disappears as the bell to the door chimes and I’m once again outside. Traffic has quieted quite a bit, not so loud. Turning I begin to make my way home, unaware of the set of eyes watching me from the dark.

I want her.

Me too.

She needs to be with us, one of us.

Soon, she will be. Give it time.

[honeykaes]

do robots dream?

boothill x wife!reader II 3.4k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, fem!reader, heavy angst, major character deaths, creampie, praise, marking, call back to boothill’s story, gave a name to boothill’s adoptive daughter, also gave jade some fake lore, also gave boothill an apache name, mention of killing, unedited

synopsis: boothill’s luck ran out and he finds himself captured by jade and the IPC. jade can only smirk at the galaxy ranger, preparing his sentence in an unexpected way.

“Bullets may fly round, but I’ll lay down”

It seems like bad luck was something Boothill should have gotten used to but wasn’t. 

His arms were suspended, and locked shut, keeping him vulnerable in whatever lab he was in.

He grinded his steel-sharpened teeth. He shifted his wrist to see if he could break against the clamps of his imprisoned arms. He sighed, thankful his hat was still on his head to cover his expression.

Boothill didn’t know how long he'd been in there. It was supposed to be a simple job, nicking one, silly IPC worker who made their way on a hitlist. Before he had the opportunity to pull his gun out, he was surrounded shooting electricity into him before his robotic body gave out momentarily.

This stupid cold, robotic body of his.

His ears perked up hearing shoes click along the ground. He chuckled already, knowing the one woman who would love to serve his head on a platter. Boothill lifted his head, eyes calibrating as his target-assist eye focused on the woman’s face as it flashed red. She had a smirk on her pale face, cigarette holder dancing slightly at the mused strumming of the Heartstone member. 

 She leaned in close, blowing the smoke over his face.

”Did I catch you at a bad time, space ranger?” she cooed. Boothill scoffed before his lips tugged in a cruel smile.

”No no, course’ not. Please go on. Each time you piss me off, I’ll just have another bullet to lodge between that wide forehead you got,” he replied. Jade simply chuckled, leaning away.

”How many am I at now?” she asked, amused at his threat.

”30,” he grunted.

Jade sighed, her finger grazing the cold metal arms restricted in the air. He couldn’t truly feel it, as if it were a faint glimpse his mind was giving him of the time he did have skin, but he couldn’t help balling his fist up having that woman touch him.

”It is such a shame you had to be such a pain for the IPC. You would’ve made a wonderful member,” she chimed, gazing at the various metalwork that made up his body. Boothill rolled his eyes, scoffing.

”You destroyed my planet. Killed my daughter. And killed my fudgin’ wife. On top of making me into this. You’d be bat crap if you even think I would’ve considered it,” he barked back.

“Well you’re alive now, aren’t you? Shouldn’t that be a blessing for our dear Amber Lord,” Jade shrugged, taking a huff of her cigarette. 

Boothill scoffed again at her laissez-faire attitude. That was the issue with all these IPC members. They didn’t even see the hurt they would cause people. It was always profits over people with these guys.

“Seeing those mushroom clouds cover everything I cared about and loved, is a blessing now? Maybe I should find the people you care about and do the same, huh?” Boothill murmured.

Jade remained stoic, that smirk still on her face. Boothill flashed a toothy smile, extending his neck as much as he could.

”Huh, Eve? Would your two boys Cain and Abel like to meet a space ranger in the flesh,” he patronized before he roared in laughter.

”Oh wait, I forgot. One killed the other one, right? And the other killed himself out of guilt huh? Lovely family I suppose, besides being cursed with your genes,” he cruelly laughed. He had remembered when he stumbled on the information typically locked tight. He may not do much physically, but at least he could relish in the mental games with this snake.

A flash of anger erupted in Jade’s pale blue eyes, before she closed them, trying to compose herself.

”It seems that we underestimated your intelligence,” she murmured. Boothill hooted before laughing.

”Intelligence? Sister, I ain’t very bright. But when it comes to dealing out debts….” he murmured. His face soon darkened, target dart flashing in his bloodthirsty eyes again 

“Trust and believe me, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure folks get what they’re owed,” he threatened. Jade turned around from this gaze, tapping her foot on the ground.

”And that’s the problem with you. You won’t stop until everyone else is dead. So, the Heartstones, on behalf of Diamond, were tasked to reign you in. It’s for the prosperity of the IPC you see,” she revealed. Boothill rolled his eyes. 

“What? Kill me? Decommission me? For all I care, use me up for scrapes. But whatever comes next, I’m going to drag y’all down with me,” Boothill yelled, with a crazed smile.

Jade turned her head to him, her sly smile appearing once more.

”You don’t fear death? What about the dead?” she asked. Boothill furrowed his brow. He didn’t know what he was getting out. There was nothing in his life that they had leverage over him. He purposefully had no ties.

”Why the fudge, would I?” he grumbled.

Jade turned her whole body to face him before Boothill’s eyes widened feeling something slither in against one of his inputs, in snap into one of the units as his eyes flashed with colors and binary he didn’t understand.

”The fudge is this! Huh? Woman?! What are you doin’ to me!” he shouted. Jade smiles as Boothill struggles to keep his gaze on her as pop-ups on his system interrupt his visuals. She walks over, digging her lit cigarette into his once gleaming metal chest.

”Achieving your wish of course. Night, night, ​​Káh Dił’tush.”

Boothill grumbled hearing the faint voice of yelling as his head pounded. He clamped his eyes tighter, massaging his forehead. The noise continued to remain loud as muffled laughter followed

“Who the fuck is making all the noise…” he grumbled. His eyes opened, trying to adjust the light of the room. He could barely see still. He covered his eyes, trying to navigate the room and his pounding headache. All he knew was he was in some wooden shack.

He got up from behind, trudging towards the location of all the noise. He squinted his eyes, leaving the room and heading to the hallway. Something felt eerily familiar about this place, vision still splotchy. It was as if his body even knew where to go.

”Someone needs to shut all the fucking yappin’. It’s too damn early for this noise!” he yelled, rubbing his eyes. A younger voice gasped, as an older one scoffed.

”Káh! What did I tell you about cursing in front of your daughter!” a familiar voice roared back. Boothill clicked his tongue, unamused.

”Daughter? I ain’t got no daughter and I can’t curse anyway from that stupid censor—” once his eyes adjusted once more, his heart fell to his chest. He saw his adoptive daughter, gazing up at him with curious eyes. 

His wife stood there, arms fashioned on her hips with a spatula in hand.

”No daughter? So who is she then? The person we have been raising for 5 years now? Hm?,” you asked sarcastically. “What I don’t want to happen is that she catches her daddy’s bad habits and ends up cursing up a storm too.”

You sighed, massaging your furrowed brow.

”Look, honey, I know you’re tired and all and were patrolling yesterday but this ain’t it. Especially when I’m cooking your ass breakfast with our daughter,” you grunted. Aaboli looked up at you with a smile.

”You said ass,” Aaboli cheered. You sighed and turned around cursing and noticing you’d burn the bacon.

”Crap! Aaboli, sweetie, go take care of the grits. This batch is too bad,” you sighed. Your eyes flickered in anger momentarily as you pointed your spatula at Boothill.

”And you! Go in the bathroom and fix yourself up. You got drool all over the side of your face,” you huffed. Your daughter giggled pointing at him before she went to work on the grits.

Boothill’s gaze focused on you two working on breakfast as if his feet were cemented to the ground. How was this happening? How was he back here? Was this a dream? A memory.

He sucked a breath in, pressing his head to his forehead as a sharp pain erupted. 

Every time he tried to think about what he was doing before, he’d get a killer headache that won’t go away until he stopped thinking about it.

”Don’t stand there sulking because you were scolded. Hurry up and clean yourself up. Breakfast is ready and Aaboli has school today anyway,” you called out.

”Gonna get all smart and help you patrol the town one day, daddy!” Aaboli chimed. 

He forced himself to turn away from their bodies and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door tight. He turned the faucet on, water pouring out of his before flashing on his face.

”Get a grip. Get a fucking…”

Boothill paused, realizing you were right, he could properly curse now. No goofy censors were prohibiting it now. He looked up at the mirror, pressing his hand against his face.

His skin was as brown as mocha again, teeth normal and white, eyes brown with no weird codes analyzing or doing whatever in his vision again.

He could feel his fingers, calloused from doing work and riding his horse. His hand made its way to his bare chest, pressing hard at the warm skin. He could feel his heart. An actual heart beating and pumping blood.

He was himself again.

He was Káh Dił’tush, not the galaxy ranger, Boothill

Boothill had the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. He almost forgot how he looked before he was robotized. He wiped a lone tear threatening to cascade down his cheeks before he touched his long hair, without any white streaks from the stress of that damn experiment.

He slowly began to braid it, before he walked out.

He had heard the front door close, and you grumbling under your breath before your eyes made contact with his.

“A half hour…? Took you that long, really? You know how much convincing Aaboli needed to head off to school without you being there to see her off too!” you scolded. 

Boothill smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist. You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the smile on your lips.

”I’m sorry darlin’. I had a weird dream. When I woke up, I thought I was still dreaming…” he lied. You clicked your tongue feeling his hands move up from under your shirt, feeling that warm of your skin again.

God, he missed it.

”You’re gonna need more than that for me to forgive you for acting like an asshole this morning. Wasting my food, scaring Aaboli with all that yellin’,” you murmured, feeling Boothill press his face against the nape of your neck.

He could feel your heartbeat again, warm, and strong. He pressed his lips on the artery letting it pulsate against it. You chuckled at the sensation.

”Insatiable… What are you up to now?” you asked. 

Boothill leaned away and kissed you. He couldn’t help savoring the way your lips molded onto his. His thumbs pinched against your hips as you began to chuckle.

”I shouldn’t be giving into this from how you were behaving earlier,” you murmured, leaning your head away. You pressed your hand against his cheek, as his gaze softened.

”You’re lucky you got a pretty face, cowboy,” you murmured. Boothill grinned before lifting you on top of the wooden counter.

”You’re right. I am a lucky guy,” he murmured, kissing you once more.

His hand wandered beneath your long dress, cupping your sex as a moan broke the kiss with him. He could feel your panties dampen from his touch, watching your hips shift and grind.

”And you called me the eager one”

”Oh shut up you!”

His name breathlessly escaped your lips, feeling the flat of his thumb press against your clit, rubbing small and deliberate circles on your clothed clit. He moved his head against, toward the nape of your nape, peppering kissing along the sensitive skin; however against your pulse now and again.

Boothill soon tugged on the panties clinging onto your cunt, and slick with your essence, slowly riding them down your legs and tossing them to the side.

His thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves, the digit vibrating friskily as it flicked it. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging onto him tighter as you ground against his touch once more. You gasped feeling his digits beginning prodding at your entrance, spoon dipping themselves into your velvety insides.

Another gasp escaped your lips feeling his digits curl inside of you, continuously pumping.

“Ah, fuck…ah!” you called out as his tempo began to rise. Your nails harpoon against his back, beginning to scrape down as Boothill grins. He could feel the sharpness of proper pain again. Your touch. Your warm skin against him. Your breathy moans by his ear caused goosebumps to erupt throughout his body.

He didn’t realize how much he missed this.

You cursed loudly as your leg squeezed against your arms, back arching and reaching your high. He continued to pump his two fingers, riding your high out until you whined from the sensitivity of your burning clit. He moved up from his position of your nap, admiring the red blotches he had made on your skin.

A remnant that he was there. You looked tired, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him.

”Fuck, ​​Káh…I don’t know the last time I came that hard,” you admitted. Boothill whistled and smirked.

”That seemed like a backhanded compliment darlin’,” he replied. You gave him a look, and he couldn’t help but smile. It was always this unamused look you gave him whenever he was right about something but you didn’t want to admit it because of your stubbornness.

Annoying at times, but a trait he found endearing all the same.

You slightly jolted, feeling his fingers slide out of you as he lapped up the taste of them.

”Shit might just be better than breakfast,” he joked. You rolled your eyes, unimpressed.

”You didn’t even eat, Káh,” you barked. Boothill chuckled regardless.

”Yeah, yeah…” he murmured. He pulled his pajama bottoms down, revealing his aching cock. He might’ve not admitted this out loud, but he did miss his manhood. His brown tip nudged against your slit, tapping against your overstimulated clit as you sucked a sharp breath in. 

”Quit teasing me already!” you grumbled.

The tip of his cock nudged against your overly clit one last time before he finally slid back down and began to slowly sink his cock inside of you.

As he reached deeper inside of you, his grip on your thigh grew, fighting the urge to succumb to his urges right then and there and spill instead of you.

With a grunt, he finally bottoms out before lifting your dress to see how much his cock disappeared instead of you. Moving his hands to part of the globes of your ass, he slid out before jetting his hips back into you, cock pumping inside of you.

He watched your puffy folds, gleam in your arousal as his cock glistened in the fluid as well. You grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing the mound as his pace grew faster. His eyes lapped up the way your body rippled to the beat of his rhyme.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to plunge even deeper inside you as you pressed your forehead against his.

”That’s it, that’s my good girl. Go’on. Show me how good you're taking me,” he huffed, with a grin. His pace grew as his blunt nails dug into your thighs, trying to ground you as your body squirmed against his touch.

”Fuck…fuck…!” you cursed, voice raising octaves in pitch. Boothill pressed his lips against your own, muffling your loudest moan as his tip brushed past the spongy spot inside of you repeatedly. 

Your walls fluttered down— signaling your climax—as your eyes shut tight. You shivered in pleasure as Boothill continued to plow instead of you. 

His hips finally bucked, as a throaty grunt wavered in your ear. Ropes of warm, thick cum shot inside of you as Boothill’s hips slowly jerked, coming down from his high. You leaned over kissing him as he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling.

”I love you. I feel like I don’t tell you that enough,” Boothill admitted. Your gaze softened, brushing a bit of his hair that clung onto his sweaty forehead.

”You don’t need to. I know you do,” you whispered, moving gently to kiss his eyelids. Boothill slid out of your cunt, momentarily admiring the cum leaking out of you. He tucked his softening cock back into his pajamas and moved the bottoms back on his waist properly.

Just as you were about to jump down from the counter, Boothall patted your thigh in defiance.

“Nah, let me clean you up. It’s the least I can do for pouncin’ on you so early,” he murmured. You simply smiled and leaned against the wall as he walked over to the bathroom to get a rag. He quickly came back with it, moving to wipe you down.

”Thank you. Now, for your actual penance, you’ll need to clean the kitchen up after you eat your cold ass food. When you’re done let me know. Maybe we can go to the market and pick up some stuff for dinner.”

Boothill, grabbed your waist to help you down from the counter, smoothing your dress down too.

”Any bit of time with my girls is good. Plus I’m going to have to get something nice as an apology to Aaboli,” he chimed, wrapping his arms around you once more. You quirked your eyebrow up, he knew you were silently wondering why he was so clingy, but he didn’t care.

Whatever miracle this was, he wasn't going to pass this up.

”You sure are. That girl is more like you than you realize.”

Jade smiled as she petted her snake's head with a smile, before hearing a knock at the door.

”Come in,” she called out, not paying much mind. One of her underlings hesitantly opened the door, shyly looking down as they approached her.

”Lady Jade. I have a few concerns about the Boothill project…” the worker admitted.

”Oh? Do explain” Jade smiled, leaning up from her position. The snake slithered, soon making its way to her chair as it wrapped around her shoulders. The worker gulped loudly, slightly shaking as her eyes fell slowly on them.

“How is making a virtual world where he is back with his wife and kid a punishment? That seems like we’re giving him peace than the payback he deserved,” the worker chimed.

There was a pause as Jade’s eyes sized up the lowly worker. The worker yelped and looked back down on the floor.

”A-Apologizes for speaking out of turn. I-I just want to make sure he suffers for his crimes, is all,” they stammered. Jade sighed, smiling.

”Don’t worry, he is. The program we have him in will slowly build down his defenses as our researchers study him, his body, and where we went wrong,” she revealed getting up from her seat. The snake hissed at the worker as they jumped in fear.

She walked up to the worker, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Once that is done, bit by bit will be pulled away from his body, until he can’t properly function anymore and dies. We had a feeling if we didn’t do this, his system would attempt to attack us in some way,” Jade revealed.

 The worker gapped loudly, trying to sputter a response.

”W-What?! How is that possible?” they asked. Jade laughed loudly in amusement. She witnessed firsthand the galaxy ranger’s scroll slowly morphing into a peaceful expression. 

”We already detected a dirty bomb inside of him. I’m sure he was prepared to blow himself up and take me down along with this ship. But he was foiled,” she chimed, beginning to walk by the door, opening it once more.

The worker turned around as she waved her hand, to signal them to leave.

”He wanted his wife and kid so badly, and now he’s with them. Just as hatred clouds the system, love can do the same.”

“I feel safe and sound, on solid ground.”

[blvdymary]

Office Hours

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: Your annoying boss and his annoying behaviour.

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1.03K

Note: Yall...I'm out of ideas that's why ı havent written anything...IM SORRY.

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Every girl in this city would sacrifice their lives to be in your place as Thomas Shelby's Personal Secretary, mostly because they think being his secretary means they get to have "fun" with him while in reality that's NOT the case AT ALL. He's always moody, mean, and rude to YOU. Not anyone else, YOU.

Always seeing him laugh -well, not really "laugh" but you know what I mean- with other women working alongside you. Was it something you did? Was it your attitude? well, you didn't really have an attitude. Always known as the shy and calm girl before he ruined it and made you like him. Moody, mean, and rude.

But right now you had a job, more like a chore. And It's to bring him his whiskey and documents as if he didn't have a whole ass collection of whiskey in his office.

You walked into your boss's office, holding a glass of whiskey as he requested for you to bring him. His feet crossed and thrown onto the desk, he looked at the simple document in his left hand while holding his cigarette with the other. Business was the priority and you were well aware of that.

He didn't even waste any energy acknowledging you came into his office. Typical Shelby. Thinking he is always seated on a pedistool, higher up from us "peasants".

You put his requested glass of whiskey on his desk, not yet noticing that he started looking at you with annoyance portrayed all over his face. "You're late," he spoke with his husky voice.

"I- I'm not-?" You muttered surprised as you looked down at him in the eyes you so adored from a distance. "You were supposed to be here with my whiskey AND documents at 4. It's 4:03." You rolled your eyes internally at his words, are you fucking kidding me? That's all you could think of. Is this guy messing with me?

You let out a soft sigh, putting on a fake frowny face as you widen your eyes at him. "Oh, please excuse me, sir. I didn't intend on being late." pulling out the documents out of the little bag you were carrying, just before you lowered them onto the desk in front of him he took them aggressively out of your grasp, leaving you in shock and making you think why he was aggressive today.

"Are you okay, sir?" Really? You knew it wasn't your place to comfort him but how could you control yourself when he was acting this way towards YOU?

"I need you to arrange a meeting with Mr. Solomons for me." He took a sip from his glass as he skimmed through the documents you brought for him.

He noticed you were still standing next to him, waiting for him to speak. "Go on. Go do your job." He dismissed you, shooing you away with a small motion of his hand as if you were a dog to him. Did that make you furious? yes. Could you do anything about it? No, not really, so you left rolling your eyes when you reached the door and shutting it behind you.

You were too furious to feel his eyes gaze at you as you walked away, smiling to himself as he muttered under his breath while shaking his head.

"What a darling thing, hm?"

You walked back into your chair and plopped onto it before sighing loud enough for Thomas to hear but you were glad he didn't. You were close to the line of getting fired from all your attitude towards your dear boss.

You looked up and saw your co-worker and best friend, Rosemary. The worry in her eyes was real, unlike other people who have been in your life before.

"Sweetie, are you okay? She asked with her unmistakable accent, she wasn't from around here so it was quite hard to get used to her accent but you managed.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Rosie. Is there a proper reason for why he's acting this way towards me?" She fake-cleared her throat. "And you." You rolled your eyes, smiling. It was true, He didn't like both of you, but he despised you more. It was clear that he wanted you out of this company.

"Well darling, I think you should talk to him about it. How are we supposed to know why he acts this way towards you without talking?"

Oh if only it was that easy Rosie. Of course, It was easy for her to say, she lacked shyness. Probably because she didn't know how things worked around here but we won't be talking about that right now.

"Come on, go and talk to him." now she was dragging you to his office?! Oh, she was bold. You tried pulling away but her grip was strong, too strong almost.

It wasn't long before she opened his door without knocking and threw you inside, closing the door behind you. Shit. There was no going back now.

"Is there something you need?" He was, of course, annoyed at you. Not Rosie, you.

You walked closer to his desk with shaky hands and took a deep breath before speaking. "I uh…I just don't understand why you're acting…this way towards me. Was it something I did or…?"

"Sit down."

Shit. Did you say something you weren't supposed to or something? You sat down at one of the chairs in front of his desk, putting your hands on your knees. Was it that obvious that you were nervous? Why was he looking at you like that? oh god-

"I must say I find you fascinating. And I would like to ask if you'd like to have dinner with me. Business related, of course."

What? What kind of joke was this? You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding before responding.

"I uh…sure, I guess."

"Well then, you may leave now." He gestured towards the door, still holding that cold expression on his face as if he didn't just ask you out.

You stood up, leaving as quickly as possible, running towards Rosemary's chair. She just HAD to know what happened.

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