#now tell me loves of my life....whats your move

[aesthetically-dying101]

how would the reader finds out that they were a bet (jjk men) but not only were they a bet but their entire friend group (the rest of the jjk group) knew about it and kept it from the reader?

I've fallen for a lie.

A/N: (inspired by: No time to die, my friend plays it on repeat) so... don't hate me, but personally, i think angst is HILARIOUS. ALSO, this is pure pain and suffering. fluff if you squint. Also i went overboard, like completely, i wrote way too much, my fav one is sukuna's.

DISCLAMER: i got this request 6 or so days ago, i've been working on this ever since, i did not copy retiredteabag (who did this post), someone just requested it on both our accounts. I wrote way too much just to throw this out so like.. yeah, proof (just in case, i just don't wanna start drama), but thank you to the anon that requested this!!!

Contents: pain. grovelling pathetic men. reader standing on bussiness bc i dislike the weepy y/n. yearning but like heartache. (im sorry for the choso/gojo/geto fans, this sucks for yall) nanami is perfect as always bc he's him. mostly angst.. toxic relationships.

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Choso, Shiu, Higuruma. (in that order)

Three years.

Three years of laughter, memories, promises, and whispered secrets. Three years of holding his hand through everything, supporting him when the world felt like it was crumbling, believing that what you two had was real.

And it was all a lie.

Your fingers trembled as you held the phone, the conversation with Haibara still ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded in your chest as each word replayed in your head like an unrelenting drumbeat.

“It was a dare. Nanami was dared to approach you that night at the bar. He didn’t even know who you were at first.”

It was a dare.

Your stomach churned, bile rising in your throat as a cold sweat broke out along your neck. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. You must’ve misunderstood. Haibara had to be joking. That’s the only explanation. But why would he joke about something like that?

The pounding of your heart filled your ears, drowning out the sound of everything else. Nanami. The man you had come to love more than anyone else. The man who had asked you to marry him last month—last month—was a part of some sick bet? A dare?

You grabbed the edge of the table for support, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Three years… Was it all just some game to him? Every soft touch, every shared meal, every late-night conversation? Was it all just some joke? A cruel one at that?

Your hands moved before your mind could catch up, yanking open the closet, throwing your clothes into a suitcase in a frenzy. The pain in your chest was so sharp, so visceral, it felt like a thousand knives stabbing into your soul. This was not happening. Not to you. Not after everything.

Your thoughts spiraled. No, no, no... How could he do this? How could he stand in front of you, gaze so soft, and tell you he loved you, that he wanted to build a life with you? He’d proposed. He’d promised. And now, it was all just a lie.

A dare.

The door clicked open, and the sound of his voice made your heart freeze in your chest.

“(Y/N)?” Nanami called, his tone light but confused, as if nothing was wrong.

You froze mid-packing, every muscle in your body locking in place. You could feel the heat of tears pooling in your eyes, but you couldn’t let them fall. Not now. Not when your entire life felt like it was collapsing around you.

You didn’t turn to face him. You couldn’t.

“(Y/N)... What’s going on? You’re packing—” His voice trailed off as he stepped closer, the sound of his shoes against the hardwood floor making the room feel smaller, more suffocating.

“Stop. Just stop,” you said, the words barely leaving your throat before they cracked.

You turned to face him, your hands shaking, the sight of him making you feel dizzy with anger and betrayal. His eyes widened at the sight of your suitcase, your movements hurried, frantic.

“(Y/N)... What’s wrong?” His voice was calm, too calm, like he was still in control. The nerve.

“Oh, what’s wrong?” you repeated, your voice rising as the weight of the truth came crashing down on you. “You don’t get to ask that. You don’t get to play the innocent card here. You lied to me, Nanami. For three years, you lied to me. And so did they.”

His expression faltered. It didn’t take much—just a flicker of realization in his eyes, but it was enough- and the worse part? You had called him Nanami. His expression was enough to make your chest tighten painfully.

“Y-You don’t understand…” Nanami started, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Let me explain—”

“Explain?” you interrupted, your voice rising to a dangerous pitch. “You want to explain? There’s nothing to explain, Nanami. You were dared to talk to me. That’s it. That’s where it all started. Everything else, everything, was just... just what? Some twisted joke?” Your fists clenched at your sides, the raw anger and hurt making it hard to breathe.

His face shifted from confusion to guilt, then to desperation.

“I— Yes. It started as a dare, but everything after that was real. I never—”

“You never what?!” You couldn’t control your emotions any longer. “You never thought you’d fall for me? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

The coldness in your voice made his face fall. But he still pushed forward, trying to fix the mess he’d made.

“I swear to you, after that night—after we started talking—I fell for you. I fell hard, and I’ve never once regretted it. I love you. I’ve loved you from the very first time we met, even if it started as a dare, even if it was a stupid game, it was real for me. Everything I’ve said, everything I’ve done for you... It’s been real. I swear on everything, it’s been real.”

“Really?” The bitter laugh that left your lips was sharp, cruel. “You want me to believe that after all of this? After you had the gall to propose to me last month? You think that now is when I should trust you?”

You took a deep breath, each word cutting through the air like a blade. “I’m done. I’m done, Nanami. You don’t get to treat me like I’m a fool. You don’t get to lie to me for three years, and then think you can fix it by saying ‘I love you.’”

You turned away from him, your movements deliberate as you grabbed the engagement ring from your finger. The diamond caught the light, flashing like a cruel reminder of everything that had been taken from you.

You slammed the ring down onto the table, the harsh sound echoing through the apartment. Nanami froze, his eyes wide with shock and pain.

The sight of his face made the sting in your chest even worse.

“I’m not your fucking bet, Nanami. I’m not your fucking game.” Your voice broke, but you forced yourself to keep going. “I don’t need your lies. I don’t need you.”

You could feel his presence behind you, his breath heavy with emotion. “Please, my love, don’t leave like this. We can fix this. I swear to you—”

You turned toward him, your eyes burning with fury and sorrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be the mature one? The one who’s so responsible? The one who’s always so calm and collected?” You stepped toward him, your voice full of venom. “But you’re just a liar.”

You couldn’t stay here. You couldn’t breathe in this suffocating space any longer.

You shoved past him, your heart racing as you grabbed your things and headed toward the door. You slammed it shut behind you with finality, the sound ringing in your ears.

Nanami was left standing there, frozen in the silence of his own regret, the weight of your departure heavy in the air.

And as you walked away, your mind couldn’t shake the image of him, his broken face, his pain.

*-*

Three days. It had only been three days since everything fell apart. Three days since the man you thought you’d spend your life with turned out to be nothing more than a liar—well, not just a liar. A liar who dared to approach you. The realization felt like a poison that had seeped into your bones, one you couldn’t shake. You spent those three days in a fog of confusion, anger, and heartbreak.

You hadn’t gone back to your apartment; hell, you couldn’t. There was nothing left for you there. No trace of the life you thought you were building. So, you did the only thing you could think of: you went to your parents.

They’d been kind, as they always were, but their words didn’t reach you. They didn’t fix the deep, hollow ache in your chest. They didn’t make you forget the way Nanami had lied to you. The way he had made you believe that everything was real… until it wasn’t.

Your mom had tried to rationalize, telling you that maybe Nanami made a mistake, that people do things they regret, that maybe he’d never intended for it to go this far. Your father had simply kept quiet, unsure of what to say, but you could tell by the way he watched you that he was worried.

But none of their words made it past the wall you’d built around yourself. They weren’t wrong. They were just trying to comfort you. But how could you be comforted by someone who had deceived you? You’d given him everything, and now, what did you have left? A broken heart. A destroyed future.

Your mind spiraled as you sat on your bed, staring blankly at the wall. You were so angry, but most of all… you just missed him. You missed his voice, the way his hand felt in yours, the calm that came with being in his presence.

Why did he have to lie? Why did he have to make me believe it was real?

A soft knock on your door startled you. You didn’t move, didn’t respond. The door creaked open anyway, and your mother’s voice gently filled the silence.

“Honey, I know you're angry right now, but maybe it’s time to—”

You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to hear anything about Nanami right now, especially not from her.

“Mom,” you said in a soft, tired voice, “please, just… just leave me alone. I don’t want to hear it.”

Your mother hesitated, as though weighing her words, but then she sighed. “I just… I want you to be happy again. I can’t see you like this.”

Before she could leave, she muttered something under her breath. It was so soft, almost like she was speaking to herself. “You were so happy with him, though. I could see it… We all could.”

You didn’t hear the door close.

You felt the sudden tension in the air before you even registered what was happening. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard footsteps coming toward the room. Your head snapped toward the doorway, and there, standing in the frame, was him.

Nanami.

Your breath caught in your throat. What the hell was he doing here?

Your mother gave you one last look, a silent apology in her eyes, before she turned and walked out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was suffocating. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if you even wanted to say anything to him. He didn’t deserve your words.

And then, in the stillness, you let out a frustrated screech. The emotion you’d been bottling up for days finally exploded. You stood, shoving the blanket off the bed, pacing the room. How dare he show up here? You were so fucking angry. You didn’t even care that he was standing there, looking like he was about to crumble to pieces himself.

“You don’t get to just show up here!” you snapped, your voice shaking. “You lied to me, Nanami! You fucking lied to me, and now you think you can just walk back in and pretend everything’s fine?”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just stood there, his eyes dark with pain, his fists clenched at his sides. And then, without a word, he walked over to you, and before you could protest, he shoved something into your lap.

You looked down.

A stack of printed screenshots. What the hell was this?

You picked them up hesitantly, your fingers trembling as you stared at the words on the page. You saw his name. Haibara’s. You saw group messages, text conversations, timestamps. You felt a sickening pang in your chest as the realization began to sink in.

These were from the night you first met.

These were from the weeks after that night.

“I… I don’t understand.” You glanced up at him, your voice shaking. “What is this? What the hell is this supposed to prove?”

He swallowed hard, clearly trying to gather his composure. “Look at the messages. Read them.”

You flipped through the pages. The first few were from that night. They were screenshots of Haibara daring him to approach you, followed by Nanami’s messages in the group chat—messages about how nervous he was, how much he wanted to make a good impression, how he thought he might’ve met the love of his life.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt like you were suffocating. Why didn’t he just tell me this?

His eyes softened, and he took a shaky breath. “I wanted to, but… I didn’t know how to. I didn’t know how to say it without you thinking it was all a lie. I was terrified you’d leave me. But I couldn’t stop falling for you, (Y/N). I swear to you, everything after that night… it was real. I never thought this would happen. I never thought I would fall in love with you, but I did.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at the messages in disbelief. They were real. He hadn’t edited them. You looked up at him, the pain in your chest intensifying.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked, voice breaking. “Why didn’t you just say something? I spent three years thinking it was all a lie. You could have told me.”

“I should have,” Nanami whispered. He took a step closer to you, his hands shaking. “I should have told you sooner. I was stupid. I was so scared that if you knew, you’d leave. But I… I love you. And I’ve loved you from the very start.”

You could feel the weight of his words, but your heart was still so raw, so broken. “This doesn’t just go away, Nanami. You can’t just… fix this.”

His face fell. “I know. I know I can’t. But I’m willing to do anything. I’ll go to marriage counseling. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. Please, [Y/N]. Please.”

You shook your head, unable to stop the tears from falling. “I can’t just go back to being with you. It’s not that easy.”

He nodded, stepping closer to you. His voice was raw, almost pleading now. “I know. I’m not asking for that. I just need you to know that I’m sorry. And that I love you. And I’ll keep fighting for you… for us.”

The words you wanted to say caught in your throat. You couldn’t decide if you should scream at him or pull him close. You were so angry, but you were also so fucking heartbroken.

But maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the villain in this story. He was just a man who had made the most terrible mistake of his life. And you had been his greatest love all along.

Could you forgive him?

You didn’t know. But maybe… maybe there was a way.

It started like any other day, or at least it felt that way.

Megumi was at school, leaving you with the quiet hum of your and Toji's house. You cleaned, you cooked, you settled into the role you had grown to love. Step-mom. You could never have imagined you'd be so attached to that boy, but there you were. Caring for him, nurturing him like he was your own flesh and blood, even when it felt impossible.

The bond was real, undeniable.

And then… the phone call came. It was innocent at first—a quick check-in from Shiu. But it wasn’t the usual chat about Megumi’s progress at school or the latest movie you all wanted to see. It was different.

It was calculated.

The words hit you like a slap.

"It was a bet, Y/N. From the start. You were never meant to be anything more than that..."

You blinked. You heard him, but your mind couldn't fully grasp it. Your heart tried to deny it.

"A bet?" you whispered to yourself, voice quivering, feeling the blood drain from your face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Toji and I, we made a bet. You were never meant to be the one. You were just… entertainment."

His words were sharp, laced with a smugness that made you sick. It felt like your entire world—no, your very identity—was just ripped from you in a moment of cruel reality.

You didn’t even hang up. You didn’t even need to. Your thoughts were spinning, dizzy with disbelief and betrayal. How could they? They—your friends, Toji’s closest allies—all knew. They knew, and not one of them bothered to tell you. Not one of them had the decency to warn you.

You weren’t even a person to them. You were a game, a pawn. A prize that Toji had to win.

Tears welled in your eyes. Your heart cracked open like a fragile shell. The life you thought you had built—Megumi, Toji, this family, this home—crumbled. You were just a tool, an object in their bet.

"No." The word broke through the veil of shock, raw and bitter. "No. I can’t—I can’t stay here. I need to leave."

You jumped up from the couch, grabbing your purse with trembling hands. It was like you were on autopilot, moving solely on the instinct to escape. The door. You just needed to get to the door. Leave. Go anywhere. But as you moved to turn the handle, it wouldn't budge.

You shook the knob harder, panic seizing your chest. It was locked. You turned to the windows, but they were all shut tight, reinforced. The walls felt like they were closing in on you.

"Toji," you whispered his name, the desperation in your voice clear.

The footsteps behind you weren’t subtle. You felt his presence before he spoke.

"Where do you think you’re going?" His voice was low, almost soothing, but you knew better. You knew the danger behind the calmness.

You spun around, anger bubbling up, fighting through the layers of hurt. "You locked the door?"

"Not just the door, sweetheart," he said, his smile sickeningly sweet, like it could erase everything he'd just shattered. "You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here. With me."

The tears you had been holding back finally fell, hot and painful. "You think I’ll just stay after this?"

Toji didn’t flinch. His eyes, dark and intense, never left you as he took a slow step forward.

"You’ve been good to Megumi," he said, his voice soft but laced with something darker. "You’ve been like a real mom to him. And now, you think you’ll just throw that away? Just like that?" He clicked his tongue, a disappointed shake of his head. "You’re too important to him."

The way he said it… It wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t even a question. It was a claim. A manipulation.

"What are you talking about?"

"You think Megumi won’t miss you?" Toji’s smile widened, and there was something almost predatory in his eyes. "You think he won’t notice? After everything you’ve done for him, after how you’ve helped him… You’re too good to leave."

His hands reached for you then, slow and deliberate, like he was reaching for something fragile, something precious. You backed away, but he was faster, gripping your arms and pulling you into his chest.

"No. No," you said, your voice shaking with the weight of all the lies. "You’re a fucking monster."

"You don’t mean that," Toji cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his breath hot against your skin. "I know you’re angry. I get it. I really do. But this? This isn’t something we can just walk away from. You’ve got a place here now. A real place, with me and Megumi."

You pushed against his chest, but his grip only tightened, unyielding. "You think you can just control me like this?"

"You were a bet," he whispered, his voice rough now, but his grip still unshaken. "But you’re more than that now. You’re mine. And you’re not going anywhere."

Your heart broke all over again as you realized the depth of his control over you, the twisted grip he had on your life. You didn’t know if you hated him more for what he had done, or for what he had become.

"Please," you choked out, voice breaking. "Please let me go. I can’t do this anymore."

But even as you begged, you knew it was useless. The door was locked, and your heart had been sealed shut behind it.

He pulled you closer, almost tender now, pressing his lips to your ear in a way that sent chills down your spine. "Don’t worry, baby." His words were dark, possessive. "You’ll understand. You’re gonna stay here. You’ll stay for me. For Megumi. And you’re gonna love it."

And as you stood there, helpless in his arms, the room spinning with the weight of everything you had lost, you knew one painful truth: you would never leave. Because Toji wouldn’t let you.

And that was worse than any bet.

The world felt softer when Gojo was around.

The way his laughter filled the room, buoyant and unapologetic, made the edges of your anxiety blur. You were tucked away in a corner booth at your favorite cafe, his long legs brushing yours under the table as he speared your last bite of cake with his fork. You swatted at him, mock-offended, but his grin was so wide, so annoyingly genuine, that you couldn’t help but laugh. Gojo had this way of making you feel like the center of his universe, and after four months, you were hopelessly, undeniably in love.

“I’m telling you,” he drawled, tilting his head back dramatically, “you’re the only person who doesn’t find my charm overwhelming.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Oh, believe me, you’re overwhelming. Just not in the way you think.”

It was easy, being with him. Too easy. You excused yourself to the bathroom, still smiling, still warm, still thinking about the way his thumb had grazed yours when he handed your the cup of tea earlier. But when you returned, you froze just outside the booth.

“...I can’t believe she still hasn’t figured it out.”

“That’s the point of a bet, idiot,” another voice chimed in, one you recognized as Geto’s.

“Yeah, but four months? That’s dedication,” someone else snickered.

Your stomach dropped.

“It’s Gojo. He always has to win,” Geto said, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I mean, she’s cute, but still... a bet’s a bet.”

The air seemed to suck out of the room. Your hand tightened on the strap of your bag as your chest constricted, bile rising in your throat.

Bet? Bet?

Your feet felt like lead as you forced yourself forward. You didn’t look at any of them, didn’t dare meet Gojo’s eyes as you muttered something about not feeling well and left. He texted you an hour later, asking where you'd gone. You stared at his message for ten minutes before replying,

-“Period cramps. Really bad.”

His response came almost immediately: “You should’ve said something! Want me to come over?”

You stared at your phone, fingers trembling as you typed out, “No. I’m fine.”

Dry. Short. Controlled. Your heart wasn’t in it.

When you finally made it back to your apartment, you collapsed onto the couch and screamed into the cushions until your throat was raw. How could he? How could they? The whole group—your friends—had known and said nothing. Your tears burned, but fury burned hotter. Your mind replayed every moment, every kiss, every laugh. How much of it had been real?

The week that followed was suffocating. Gojo’s texts came in, as lively and obnoxious as always, but you gave him nothing in return.

-“Morning! Did you sleep okay?” -“Fine.” -“Want to grab dinner tonight? My treat 😉” -“Busy.”

He called once. You let it ring until it stopped.

At work, you barely acknowledged him. He’d saunter up to your desk, his usual grin plastered on his face, but your responses were curt, your eyes glued to your screen.

“Hey, you good? You’ve been acting weird.”

You looked up at him, expression blank. “I’m fine.”

It wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine.

The next group hangout was unbearable. They were all there, laughing and joking like nothing had happened. Like they hadn’t all played you for a fool. You were quiet, cold, your presence an icicle in their usual warmth.

“Hey, let’s grab a drink,” Gojo said, nudging your arm.

You stared at him, your jaw tight, before jerking your head toward a quiet corner. “We need to talk.”

He blinked but followed you, his usual confidence faltering under your glare. “What’s—”

“I’m done,” you said, loud enough that the others turned to look-god you wanted to humiliate him. “I don’t have time for your bullshit, Gojo. Your childish, manipulative, disgusting behavior.”

His eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. The bet.” Your voice cracked on the word, but you pressed on, relentless. “Four months of my life, and it was a goddamn bet? Was it worth it, Satoru? Did you win?”

The color drained from his face. “Wait—how—”

“And you,” you snapped, turning to the rest of them. “All of you knew, didn’t you? You’re all assholes. Every single one of you. I trusted you, and you laughed behind my back.”

“Wait, it wasn’t—” Geto started, you cut him off with a glare that could shatter glass.

“I’m done,” you repeated, voice trembling with rage. “Have a nice life.”

You didn’t wait for a response, didn’t look back as you stormed out. Your chest felt like it was caving in, but for the first time in days, you could breathe.

Blocking them was the first thing she did when she got home. Every single one of them. Instagram, Twitter, Facebook (who even uses that anymore??), WhatsApp, even Spotify—gone. You didn’t want any trace of them in your life. No drunken messages. No half-assed apologies. No reminders of what you'd lost, what they’d taken from you.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly for the first few hours. Calls, texts, notifications from burner accounts, and even an email with the subject line, "Please, just talk to me." You deleted it without opening it. You didn’t owe him—any of them—anything.

The silence that followed was both a relief and a weight. Days stretched into a week, then two, and while you were still raw, still angry, you were learning how to exist in the emptiness they left behind.

Gojo, on the other hand, was unraveling.

At first, he was sure it was a misunderstanding. You'd cool off, he thought. You'd always had a fiery temper, but you weren't cruel. You wouldn’t just cut him off.

Except you did.

When he showed up at your apartment with a bouquet of sunflowers—the kind you loved—you didn’t answer the door. He stood there for half an hour, knocking and calling your name until a neighbor threatened to call the cops. He left the flowers on your doorstep, only to find them in the trash the next day, petals wilting, stems bent.

His texts became desperate.

"I messed up. Please, just let me explain." "I know you're mad, but I swear, it wasn’t like that." "I… I miss you. Can we just talk? Please?"

You read them all. Deleted every single one without replying.

At work, he tried to corner you in the break room, but you turned on your heel and walked out without a word. During a meeting, he sat across from you, staring holes into you as if his gaze alone could break your silence. But you didn’t look at him once.

One evening, he left a note on your desk: "Meet me on the rooftop after work. I just want to talk." You crumpled it into a ball and tossed it in the trash right in front of him.

The rest of their friend group tried to intervene. Geto texted you a half-hearted, "I know we messed up. Can we talk? I’ll explain." You blocked him immediately.

Shoko showed up at her apartment unannounced, knocking softly and saying through the door, “Hey, I just want to say I’m sorry. We didn’t mean for it to go this far—”

“Go away.” Your voice was cold, flat. You didn’t wait to hear Shoko’s reply before turning up your music to drown her out.

Gojo hit his breaking point one night when he sent her a long, rambling voice note. His voice was rough, almost frantic.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this. The bet—it wasn’t supposed to mean anything! I wasn’t supposed to… to feel this way about you. But I do. God, I do. And now I’ve ruined it. I ruined us. I know I can’t fix it, but please, just… just tell me how to make it right. I’ll do anything.”

You listened to it exactly once. Not to feel anything, but to make sure you weren't imagining the crack in his voice, the sound of him breaking- you almost thought about answering. Maybe there was a valid excuse- no.

It should’ve satisfied you. It didn’t. You deleted it.

Weeks turned into months, and Gojo still couldn’t let go. He went through every stage of grief, cycling between anger, guilt, and desperation. He replayed every moment they’d shared, trying to pinpoint where he’d gone wrong, where he could’ve fixed it before it fell apart.

But you had moved on—or at least, you made it look like you had. Your Instagram was private now, your profile picture replaced with something generic. Your Spotify playlists—once filled with songs you'd joked were about him—were gone. You were a ghost, haunting him in your absence.

And of course, at their next group hangout, you weren't there.

“She’s done with us,” Shoko said quietly, picking at the label on her beer.

Gojo didn’t respond. He was staring at his phone, scrolling through their old messages, reading your words over and over again like they were the only pieces of you he had left.

“I don’t have time for your bullshit.” “I trusted you.” “Have a nice life.”

He wasn’t sure which hurt more: the words you'd said or the ones you never would again.

You were not built for betrayal.

Not this kind, anyway.

The world felt as if it had been turned upside down. Each breath dragged its weight through your ribs, and your skin burned with the realization, a gnawing, buzzing kind of agony that spread like wildfire.

Suguru had been laughing.

Laughing.

“Come on, don’t look so upset,” he’d said the day before, his honeyed voice sweet with mockery. “You’ve been fun. More fun than I thought you’d be.”

The room had frozen. Everyone had frozen. Satoru, with his cocky grin faltering but still plastered in place. Shoko, lips pressed so tightly they’d gone pale. Even Nanami had avoided your eyes. They all knew.

The truth clawed its way into your mind, carving a jagged wound: you were a bet. An experiment. Entertainment. The words replayed themselves in your head over and over, drilling into the cracks of your soul. More fun than I thought you’d be.

And Suguru had led the charge. The man whose quiet kindness, whose quiet smiles, you’d clung to like a lifeline. Who’d called you “special” in the dim quiet of late-night conversations. Who’d made you feel seen.

It was nothing. You were nothing.

*-*

That night, you hadn’t cried. Tears would’ve been too easy, too human. Instead, you’d locked yourself in your dorm, let the cold silence settle into your bones, and stared at the ceiling until the walls blurred into one endless void.

What had been the point? Of everything? Every joke, every shared drink, every time Suguru had rested his chin on his hand and watched you with that glimmer of something in his dark eyes—what had it all been for?

The cruelest part wasn’t even the lie. It was the tiny seed of hope buried deep in your chest, stubbornly whispering: he didn’t mean it. Not entirely. Maybe they made him do it.

You hated that hope.

Hated it almost as much as you hated Suguru himself.

You couldn’t face them the next day. You hadn’t slept. You barely remembered dragging yourself to a bar off-campus, ordering drink after drink until everything blurred.

You hadn’t even noticed the curse until it was too late.

It was stupid, really. They taught you this in your first year: never wander drunk. Never let your guard down, no matter where you were. But you’d been so hollow, so angry. Maybe some part of you had wanted to stumble onto something. Wanted it to hurt.

The curse had been waiting, a writhing, monstrous thing. You were too slow, too uncoordinated to summon even the faintest spark of your cursed energy.

Its claws ripped through your chest. Its teeth found your neck. And all you could think about, in those last agonizing seconds, was Suguru. His face when he’d laughed. The way his eyes had gleamed with amusement.

You didn’t scream.

*-*

They found your body the next morning.

Shoko identified it first. She didn’t speak, didn’t flinch, just stared at the mangled ruin of what you’d been. Suguru didn’t understand at first—didn’t want to understand.

“Who is it?” His voice was calm, sharp. Detached.

When Shoko turned to him, her expression empty, he knew.

His body moved on its own, shoulders tense, hands trembling. He fell to his knees beside you, eyes wide and unseeing as they traced the jagged edges of torn flesh and drying blood.

It didn’t feel real. You were so…still. So quiet.

Suguru thought about the night before, about your face when he’d laughed, the hurt in your eyes that he’d ignored. A hand pressed against his chest, his cursed energy stuttering with each ragged breath.

“You’re lying,” he whispered. “It’s not her.”

No one answered.

*-*

The funeral was quiet.

Closed casket. Your body too mangled to be seen.

Suguru didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He didn’t do anything, really, except sit and stare at the ground, arms folded tight over his chest as if trying to hold himself together.

Satoru tried to talk to him afterward, but Suguru didn’t hear him. Didn’t hear anything beyond the blood pounding in his ears. You were gone. Gone.

He remembered your laugh. Your voice, soft but steady. The way you’d touched his arm when you thought he wasn’t listening.

The grief hit him in waves. Slow at first, then all at once, crashing over him in an endless tide.

And when it was too much—when the weight of it crushed the air from his lungs—something inside him snapped.

The laughter from that night wouldn’t stop echoing in his head. His laughter.

You’d deserved better than this.

Better than him.

Better than all of them.

That was the day Suguru Geto stopped being human.

The regret ate him alive, twisted and burned inside him until all that was left was rage. At the world. At himself. At everything.

He’d find a way to fix it. To burn it all down and rebuild something where people like you wouldn’t exist just to be broken.

But no matter what he built, he knew one thing:

Your laughter would never fill the silence again.

The room was alive with celebration—the sweet burn of sake, raucous laughter of Sukuna’s inner circle, the murmurs of passing servants. You stepped in, the familiar ache in your chest softened by the sight of him. Sukuna, draped in the loose elegance of his kimono, surrounded by his boisterous companions. His crimson eyes caught yours briefly, and his grin sharpened—wolfish, commanding.

He had always been a man of many faces: a conqueror, a husband, a god in flesh. And yet, for all his unyielding power, you believed there was a version of him that had chosen you. The one who watched you in the quiet mornings with a gaze softer than his cruel reputation allowed. The one who, when alone with you, could almost seem human.

You believed in that man.

Until tonight.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t figured it out yet,” one of the men drawled, drunk on his own amusement.

“Patience,” another snickered. “It’s more fun this way.”

Laughter rippled through the group, but the words fell like stone in your chest.

Figured it out?

The haze of the room blurred. Your hand trembled as you gripped the edge of the screen door. Sukuna’s voice cut through the noise, the resonance of it always unmistakable.

“She’s sharp, though. Too sharp to not catch on soon. You’ve already cost me enough sake with your doubts, Ryota.”

Another bout of laughter.

The world stilled. Your heart was a drumbeat, steady but deafening. Each word he spoke was a dagger slicing through the fabric of your reality.

A bet.

Your knees threatened to buckle as the pieces began falling into place, sharp and unforgiving. The glances exchanged when you entered a room. The veiled smirks. The lingering silence whenever you asked too many questions.

They all knew.

Every. Single. One.

You stepped forward, the warmth of the room no longer reaching you. “What is this?”

The laughter stopped abruptly. Heads turned in your direction. Sukuna, ever the commanding presence, leaned back lazily against the wall, his lips curving into something dangerously close to a smirk.

“Ah, my little wife,” he said, voice like honey over steel. “What brings you here?”

You ignored the question. Your voice was a whisper, sharp as a blade. “What bet?”

The silence was suffocating. Even the drunken fools who moments ago were basking in their audacity now had the decency to look away.

“Tell me,” you demanded, stepping closer, your voice breaking on the edges.

Sukuna tilted his head, as if considering you, weighing whether you deserved the truth.

When he spoke, it was almost casual. “A simple wager, nothing more. They doubted I could make you mine.” His eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t name—amusement? Pride? Indifference? “I proved them wrong.”

The room swayed. You thought you might vomit.

“All of you…” You turned, your gaze sweeping over the room, locking on each face. The betrayal carved deeper with every averted glance. “You all knew.”

No one spoke.

Your breath hitched as you turned back to Sukuna. “You let me believe this was real,” you whispered, the words trembling as they left your lips.

He rose slowly, deliberately, towering over you as he always did. “Careful, wife,” he said, his tone low, a warning wrapped in silk. “You are in my favor now, but that can change.”

The anger burned bright, but something colder seeped in beneath it. A numbness, hollow and vast.

You stepped back, shoulders straightening, the fire in your eyes extinguished. “Of course, my lord,” you said, bowing your head. “My apologies for the outburst.”

He blinked, caught off guard by the shift. “What—”

You didn’t wait for him to finish. With the grace and composure befitting a lady of your station, you turned and walked away.

*-*

The days that followed were excruciating in their monotony. You became a ghost of yourself—a woman of duty, of decorum, of practiced neutrality.

Sukuna, in all his arrogance, thought little of it at first. He smirked when you would rise from a conversation and leave the room upon his arrival. He found amusement in the way your laughter would fall silent the moment his shadow crossed the threshold.

But over time, the smirk faded.

He began to notice the absence of something he hadn’t realized he craved. The warmth of your smile, the brightness in your eyes when you looked at him—it was gone. Replaced by a cold civility that made his jaw tighten and his fists clench.

Servants whispered of the change. You, who had once breathed life into the grand halls of his estate, now walked its corridors like a specter. Even when he tried to corner you, to draw out the spark that had once burned so fiercely, you evaded him with polite indifference.

“Stop,” he growled one evening, grabbing your wrist as you turned to leave the dining room.

You froze, the contact sending a shiver up your spine. Slowly, you turned to face him, your expression unreadable.

“Yes, my lord?”

The words, spoken so softly, so devoid of the fire he had come to expect, made his chest tighten.

“Enough of this,” he snapped, his grip tightening. “Speak your mind.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “There is nothing to say, my lord. I am your wife. I will fulfill my duties as such. Beyond that…” You gently pulled your wrist from his grasp. “There is nothing more.”

It was a lie, of course.

There was anger, still, buried deep within the hollowed-out space where your love for him had once lived. There was pain, sharp and unyielding. There was betrayal, an ache so profound you feared it would consume you if you let it.

But you would not give him the satisfaction of seeing any of it.

And so, you walked away, leaving Sukuna in the silence of his own making.

The house grew colder with every passing day. And though he would never admit it, not even to himself, Sukuna found that he missed the warmth.

*-*

The nights at Sukuna’s estate were long, oppressive, and heavy with silence. It gnawed at him like a dull blade, chipping away at his carefully crafted veneer of control.

He had thought the hunts would help. The thrill of the chase, the satisfying crunch of bone beneath his blade.

But the emptiness followed him, relentless and mocking.

Her absence haunted him. Not in the physical sense—she was still here, still his wife, still dutiful in the way she moved through the estate. But she had become untouchable, locked away behind that maddening neutrality. No matter how he raged, no matter how he tried to provoke her, she gave him nothing.

Sukuna was many things—a tyrant, a god, a king—but patient was not one of them.

So, when the sun dipped low and the moon bathed his estate in its cold light, Sukuna had finally had enough.

*-*

You were in your chambers, the night air cool against your skin as you slipped your arms out of the sleeves of your kimono. The day had been uneventful, like all the others since that night. You had perfected the art of existing without feeling, moving through life as if the pieces of your shattered heart hadn’t left jagged edges that threatened to cut you open from the inside.

You were pulling the fabric down from your shoulders when the door slammed open, the force rattling the delicate wooden frame.

You gasped, clutching your half-discarded kimono to your chest as Sukuna stormed in, his crimson eyes blazing with fury.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, your voice trembling as you scrambled to cover yourself.

He didn’t answer. In an instant, he was on you, his four arms grabbing hold of your shoulders, your waist, your wrists. His grip wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t cruel either. It was desperate.

You froze, your mind racing. Was this it? Had your quiet defiance finally pushed him too far?

“Are you going to kill me?” you asked, your voice steadier than you felt.

He barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Kill you? Don’t tempt me, woman.” He shook you, his claws biting lightly into your skin. “What do you want from me? Tell me how to fix this!”

You blinked, caught off guard by the raw frustration in his voice. “Fix… this?”

“Yes!” he snarled, his face inches from yours. “I’ll kill them, every last one of those idiots if that’s what you want. I’ll burn this entire estate to the ground if it will bring you back. Just tell me what the hell you want!”

Your chest tightened, a whirlwind of emotions surging through you. Anger, disbelief, a flicker of something you refused to name.

“You think you can just—” your voice cracked, and you shook your head, trying to find the words. “Do you even understand what you’ve done? You made me a game, Sukuna. A bet. Do you know what that feels like? To be nothing more than a joke to the man who swore to protect me?”

His grip faltered for a moment, his gaze searching yours. “You were never a joke,” he said, his voice low, almost quiet.

You laughed bitterly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Not again.”

“I’m not lying,” he snapped, his frustration boiling over. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. I don’t care how it started. I don’t care about those fools and their bets. I care about you.”

The words were a punch to the gut. You wanted to believe him, wanted so desperately to cling to the possibility that this wasn’t all a lie. But the wound was still fresh, and your pride was a shield you weren’t ready to lower.

“If I find out you’ve lied to me again,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute, “I’ll go where you can’t follow. You know where I mean.”

His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Don’t.”

“I mean it,” you said, meeting his gaze with a fire you thought you’d lost. “I’ll end this. I’ll end me.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your words hanging between you like a blade.

Then, suddenly, he kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It was rough and demanding, filled with the fury and desperation that had been building between you for weeks. You resisted at first, your hands pushing against his chest, but the dam inside you broke. Your fingers curled into his robes, pulling him closer as you poured every ounce of your anger, your heartbreak, your longing into that kiss.

It was messy and heated, a clash of tongues and teeth and raw emotion. When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing ragged, you could see the unspoken apology in his eyes.

“Never again,” you whispered, your voice shaky but firm. “I mean it, Sukuna.”

“Never,” he promised, his hands gripping you like you might vanish if he let go.

The tension between you snapped like a bowstring, giving way to something primal and all-consuming. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the futon in the corner of the room. The anger and betrayal still simmered beneath the surface, but for now, it was drowned out by the sheer intensity of your connection.

*-*

Later, as you lay tangled in the sheets, your head resting against his chest, you broke the silence.

“I want them all dead,” you said softly.

He didn’t hesitate. “Done.”

You tilted your head to look at him, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “You’ll regret this, you know. I’ll never let you live it down.”

His lips curved into a smirk of his own, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

And though the wounds between you were far from healed, for the first time in weeks, the room didn’t feel so cold.

It hits like a slap, sudden and cold, pulling the breath right from your lungs.

Choso is staring at you, his eyes wide with that hollow, pitiful look you once thought was endearing. His voice is shaky as he tries to say something, anything, but you can barely hear it over the roar in your ears, the rush of blood pounding in your head. The betrayal tastes bitter in your mouth—sharp, metallic, and sour.

“Y/N, listen to me. It was just—” he starts, but you cut him off, your voice trembling but loud, louder than you ever thought it could be.

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, taking a step back from him. Every inch of space between you and him feels like a mile, a chasm too deep to ever cross. “Don’t you dare tell me it was just some stupid bet.”

Choso's eyes flicker with confusion, the subtle tremor in his hands betraying the calm he tries to project. “It’s not— it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

You take a slow, trembling breath, staring at him, trying to ground yourself in the mess of emotions that are tearing you apart. Your mind is a whirlwind, flashes of memories twisting like knives in your chest. The late-night talks, the stolen kisses, the way he’d smile when he thought you weren’t looking. It was all so real, so pure.

But it wasn’t.

Your throat feels tight, your hands trembling at your sides as you finally piece it together. You’d been a bet. A joke, a wager. A way to pass the time. And worse? Everyone you called your friends—everyone you thought you knew, all those warm, intimate moments you shared—knew about it. Knew, and never once told you.

It’s impossible to swallow, the truth. How could they? How could he?

The pieces fall into place with a sickening clarity, sharp shards of realization that lodge deep in your chest. The subtle tension in the air every time you were around them. The way they’d glance at each other when you walked into the room, their smiles too tight. Too practiced.

Your stomach churns, bile rising as your thoughts spiral, the images of them—the rest of the group, the ones you thought had your back—flash before you. Megumi’s quiet looks, Nobara’s silence, Yuji’s forced cheer—they all knew. They all stood by, playing their parts. Feeding you the lies, watching as you fell deeper and deeper into Choso’s world.

Choso. His name tastes like poison now. How could you have been so stupid? So blind?

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, but his apology feels like acid against your skin. His hands are outstretched, as if he could reach you, as if he could fix what’s broken. But he can’t. He never could.

“You’re sorry?” The laughter bubbles up in your throat, but it’s not joyful, not even bitter—it’s hollow. Empty. “You’re sorry? Do you even understand what you did, Choso? Do you understand what you all did?”

His lips quiver as he tries to get the words out. “I never wanted it to go this far—”

“Then why didn’t you stop it?” Your voice cracks, and it’s like a scream trying to claw its way free. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

Choso’s face contorts, a flash of panic in his eyes as he steps closer to you. “I… I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

“I hate you now.” You can’t even hear your own words, the weight of them crashing down on you, but it feels so good to say. So cathartic. The relief is sharp and cold as it spreads through you.

“But I love you,” he pleads, his voice breaking. There’s desperation in his eyes now, a frantic need, like he’s begging for you to just… fix it. But there’s no fixing this. Not anymore.

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t you dare tell me you love me when you treated me like a fucking game. How could I ever trust you again?”

Choso’s face twists, the desperation morphing into something darker, almost wounded. “You don’t mean that. Please, Y/N, please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything—just—just don’t walk away.”

But you can’t stop walking. You turn, slowly, not sparing him another glance. Not sparing anyone another glance.

Because they all knew. Every last one of them.

And they didn’t care enough to stop it.

Your footsteps echo in the hollow silence, the air thick with the weight of everything that’s broken, everything that’s ruined. Your chest is tight, the ache in your heart gnawing at you like a thousand tiny daggers. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You can’t feel.

You don’t know how you get home, don’t know how you fall into bed, curling in on yourself, as if the space could swallow you whole and take away all the hurt.

But it doesn’t. The hurt is there, with you, like a ghost haunting your every waking thought.

They all knew.

And it doesn’t matter that they’re sorry now. It doesn’t matter that Choso is sitting in front of your door, his voice trembling through the wood as he calls your name, begging you to open up.

He’s sorry. They’re all sorry.

But it’s too late. Because in the end, you were never the one. You were never anything more than the punchline to a joke you didn’t even know you were part of.

And no amount of sorrys can take that away.

A Bet. A Dare. A Life.

The room is suffocating. You can feel the heat in your chest, in your stomach—rising, boiling. It burns you like the sharpest ache, and you can’t stop the way your breath hitches every time you inhale. This is wrong. Everything is wrong.

You should have never trusted them. Never trusted him.

It started as a harmless fling. That’s what you thought, at least. But when you looked at him, when he looked at you with that grin—so open, so honest—you could’ve sworn that maybe, just maybe, it was something more. He wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t like the rest of them, the men who flitted through your life with no real intention of staying, their interests as fickle as the seasons.

But Shiu Kong was different. He was soft in his brutal honesty. He was clever, kind in his own way—he made you feel special. That’s what you thought. That’s what you told yourself, over and over again.

And now... now you were nothing more than a joke.

The words come crashing down on you, hitting like a slap to the face. "It was a bet. A dare. You were a dare." Shiu’s voice, like poison, laced with something deeper, something far more disturbing than you ever imagined.

You couldn’t have heard that right. You must be misunderstanding. His eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into yours like they always had. But there was something more behind them now. Something that wasn't there before.

“A dare?” you whisper, too stunned to make it louder, though every cell in your body screams for you to scream. To shout. You force your hand to your mouth, to keep it together, to not let it slip.

“Yeah,” he responds with that same nonchalance, the way he always spoke to you—like it was just another casual thing. “Me and the guys? We... we made a bet. Whoever could get you to fall for them, win the challenge.” His gaze flickers to the side, like he’s waiting for something, some kind of reaction.

And that’s when it hits you. Every damn thing that ever felt real, every moment you shared with him, every laugh, every quiet, stolen glance, was just... staged. It wasn’t real.

He was playing you.

Your body goes cold, a chill taking over your skin. You look around the room, your pulse quickening, and there they are—the others. The rest of the group. They’re watching. Watching you. Watching him. Like it’s all some cruel game, and you’re the only one who didn’t get the memo.

How long? How long did they know? How long had they watched you stumble, watched you let yourself believe in a lie, and said nothing?

You hate them. You fucking hate them.

"Is this... is this what you wanted?" You can feel the venom in your voice, feel the anger pouring out of you like a slow burn. "You all knew, didn’t you? You knew and said nothing. You watched me fall for him, for you, and said nothing. You watched me trust you—trust all of you—and did nothing."

A heavy silence falls. Not a single one of them meets your gaze.

Shiu’s fingers twitch at his side, like he wants to say something, but he’s scared to move. You know him. You know him well enough to see that hesitation. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t care.

"You," you sneer at him, your hands shaking now, trembling with a fury that makes it hard to stay upright. "You were the one I trusted the most. You were supposed to be different."

You feel a lump in your throat, that sickening ache of betrayal tightening like a noose. “You used me.” The words feel like knives. “You all used me.”

His eyes darken even further, but he doesn’t speak. Not even when you let the words break out, shattering the calm, composed mask you’d tried to wear for so long.

“What is it?” You laugh, bitterly. “What’s so special about me, huh? Was I just a joke to you?” Your voice cracks, but you can’t stop it. You don’t want to stop. “Was this all just a fucking joke?!”

“Y/N,” Shiu finally speaks, and his voice cracks too. You can hear the guilt in it, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.

“Don’t you dare try to make this sound like it’s anything other than what it is. You used me. You all used me. All for a damn bet.” The words taste like acid on your tongue. “You made me feel like... like I mattered. You made me feel like you cared. And for what? So you could laugh at me behind my back?"

You can’t breathe. Can’t think. The room spins.

But the most painful thing? The one thing that breaks you all over again, deeper than the betrayal, deeper than the lies, is the way Shiu won’t let you leave.

You know what he’s doing before he even takes a step forward. He’s blocking the door. Like a lion protecting its kill, but you’re not his prey.

You back away, your breath quickening. “Let me out.”

“No,” he says, his voice so quiet now, so broken that it almost makes you want to tear your ears off. “I won’t let you go.”

You stare at him, the desperation in his eyes more than you can bear. “What did you think would happen, Shiu? You think I’m just going to let you walk away with this? You think you can keep me here? Like I’m some... some thing you can possess? You’re out of your mind.”

He steps closer, and you want to push him away, scream, break down, but you won’t. Not now. Not ever.

But he’s already reached for you. His fingers brush your arm, and you shudder, your body recoiling from the contact.

“I didn’t want it to go like this.” His voice cracks again, quieter. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Y/N.”

“You already did.” Your chest tightens, the words coming out as a whisper, as soft and broken as you feel. “You already did.”

You should walk away. You should turn around, tear through the door, never look back. But your feet won’t move. Not now. Not anymore. Because somehow, you’re still here.

You feel the weight of it. Every word. Every lie. It settles on your chest like an unbearable pressure, and you wonder—if you had known, would you have walked away? Would you have let them all slip through your fingers before they did this to you?

You don’t know.

But you do know one thing for sure.

You are done.

It wasn’t just that Hiruguma had lied to you.

It wasn’t just that you had been deceived, manipulated, and toyed with for weeks. It was the realization that every single person you trusted—your friends, the people you leaned on, the ones you thought had your back—had known about it. They all knew about the bet.

The words echoed in your mind, ringing like a bell of betrayal.

“I was dared to date you.”

You stared at him, still trying to process what he had just confessed. Hiruguma stood there in front of you, hands clenched by his sides, gaze trained downward, avoiding yours. There was no defensiveness, no pride in his eyes—just guilt, guilt that sank deep into the pit of his stomach.

There was nothing in his face but honesty, and yet that was the one thing that made you feel even more sick.

"You’re telling me," you whispered, a venomous laugh escaping from your throat, "that you were a bet? That everything we’ve done... that everything I’ve felt... was just some joke to you?"

Hiruguma swallowed hard, his throat constricting at your words. His voice was soft but steady when he answered. "I was dared. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. I didn’t think I would. But… I did. It became real."

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, but it made your skin crawl. It felt like nails on a chalkboard.

A part of you, somewhere deep inside, wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that maybe this wasn’t all just some sick joke. That maybe he hadn’t done it because of the dare. That maybe, somehow, this could still work. But the other part of you, the part that still couldn’t breathe properly, the part that felt like you were drowning in an ocean of betrayal, knew better.

You’ve been played.

You clutched the hem of your shirt, fighting the tears that had already started to well up in your eyes. You had to hold it together—just a little longer. You didn’t want him to see how much he’d hurt you. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deep the knife had cut. But as the anger and betrayal boiled up inside you, the words started pouring out before you could stop them.

“Are you kidding me? And what about them?” You gestured violently toward the group of friends that had always been around you—Yuji, Megumi, Nobara. You couldn’t even look at them now. “They all knew, didn’t they?”

Hiruguma’s silence said everything. He didn’t need to speak; his lowered eyes were enough to confirm what you already knew. The rest of the group had kept it from you. They all knew. They all watched. They all let you fall for this, and they did nothing.

They’re complicit.

They lied to you, too.

"Why?!" Your voice cracked. "Why would they do this? Why would you do this to me?"

You could feel the tears beginning to fall despite your best efforts to hold them back. But no matter how hard you tried, they came, and soon enough you couldn’t breathe properly. It was the worst feeling in the world—the overwhelming sensation of being so utterly deceived that you couldn’t even trust your own mind anymore.

Hiruguma stepped closer, but you backed away instinctively, your chest tightening. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to make you feel this way,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I’ve always wanted you. I wanted to be with you... not because of a dare, but because I—"

“Shut up!" You snapped, your voice harsh, sharp. "Don’t you dare make this about you now. Don’t you dare."

His shoulders slumped, and his face contorted with remorse. He looked like he was physically crumbling, but it did nothing for you. All you could feel was the weight of the betrayal, pushing you deeper into the ground with every breath.

You squeezed your eyes shut, holding back the floodgates. You couldn’t look at him. Not now. Not when everything about him felt like a lie. Your thoughts were a mess—a tornado of anger, hurt, confusion, and disbelief. It felt like everything you had been living was ripped away in a single moment.

"You should’ve just left," you muttered bitterly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "You should’ve told me the truth from the start. Then maybe I wouldn’t have—" You paused, your voice breaking before you could say it. "Maybe I wouldn’t have fallen for you."

Hiruguma looked stricken, his face pale. He stepped forward again, but you didn’t budge. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to be closer or farther away. His presence was a paradox now—both a comfort and a source of pain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything," he whispered. "But I swear, this... the bet—it doesn’t matter anymore. I want you. I love you. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry for that. I’ll do anything... anything to make it right.”

You could feel him watching you, could feel his eyes on you like a weight that wouldn’t lift. But you couldn’t face him—not now. Not when everything you thought you knew had been shattered. Your thoughts screamed for clarity, but all you could do was stand there, numb, overwhelmed by the quiet ache in your chest. The emptiness where love once lived.

“You can’t just take back what you did,” you finally whispered, the words coming out hoarse. “You can’t just undo all the lies. All the people who knew—who watched me fall and did nothing.”

His eyes went wide, and he immediately looked to the others, your friends, who had been standing off to the side, lingering like ghosts in the background. “I know,” he said, voice low and broken. “I know they were wrong, too. They should have told you. I should’ve told you.”

You wiped your face again, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I need time. I need space," you said, a trembling note in your voice. You were shaking all over, your emotions a storm you couldn’t control.

But deep down, as much as it hurt, as much as you hated everything that had happened, there was a part of you—small, fragile—that couldn’t completely let go. Not yet. Not when everything had been so real between you. Not when the love you felt for him had meant something, had been real for you.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, voice so quiet you almost missed it.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you closed your eyes, taking in a shaky breath.

“No,” you said after a long pause, finally looking up at him with wet eyes. “I don’t want you to leave. But we... we have to start over. From scratch. Like we’ve never met before. If we’re going to do this, it has to be all the way. No lies. No more games.”

His expression softened, and there was something in his eyes—something you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t relief, not exactly. But it was an acknowledgment. A silent promise.

"I swear. No more games," he said, his voice steady and firm. "I’ll do whatever it takes. No more bets. Just us."

And with that, the first fragile seed of hope began to take root inside you, despite everything. You weren’t sure how long it would take for things to heal, or even if they would—but for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something real to begin.

A/N: this was wayyyyy too long, anyways yuhhh, i loved writing this! Thank you to the lovely anon who requested, i mean it, thank you to every anon who's sent me requests, y'all are too cute

Masterlist.

:)

[sc0tters]

A Helping Hand | Jack Hughes & Trevor Zegras

summary: when the boys learn that you've never finished, it's only right that they change that for you.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, threesome, oral (f & m receiving!), unprotected sex, fingering, swearing, mentions of drinking.

word count: 7.02k

authors note: is it really a trevor and jack threesome from me, without @sweetestdesire's help? no, no it is not... all jokes aside though this may be the dirtiest piece that I have ever written? like i embraced my inner slut, whore and everything inbetween while writing this so I do hope that you enjoy it! I know I did so we may end up with the first series of the year with this one!

Nobody truly remembered how you all got there.

Sat around the camp fire with a blanket thrown over your legs and a beer in your hand. 

It was these little moments at the lake house that you adored so much. Luke was in the chair next to you, allowing you to send him the occasional whisper after the boys did something stupid. 

Tonight was one of those nights as Cole managed to convince the group to play never have I ever, after Quinn’s suggestion of truth or dare was quickly shot down by Jack reminder of how he had to go skinny dipping in the lake. When the boys stole his clothes and locked him outside, it was the first and last time truth or dare made an appearance at the lake house.

You sighed thinking to yourself of a question“never have I ever done the walk of shame.” It was a good one to get most of the guys to drop a finger as Luke had told you about many of their escapades throughout their careers. 

A while left Trevor’s lips “that one isn’t fair!” He grumbled dropping another finger leaving him with only two up.

Alex looked at the group of girls that had joined you guys as he had found one he wanted to make a move on “never have I ever faked an orgasm.” The boy swore he was going to do a dance of happiness when he saw the blonde one he had been talking to, keep her finger up whilst the first around her thought about their answers.

Your finger went down hoping that someone else would have a much more interesting story to share than you “are you seriously telling me that your little football player boyfriend was shit in bed?” Trevor asked as he let out a laugh seeing your cheeks turn a shade of red. 

Jack turned to you, matching his friend’s curious expression “who is to say it was even with him?” It was something he had never even wondered about before, but now everyone’s eyes were on you as most of the people around that fire knew of your entire love life “she does not need to answer if she doesn’t want to.” Quinn sent you a friendly smile, Luke nodded in agreement with this being something that he didn’t even know about. 

You let out a sigh of relief “yeah why don’t we move on?” There was a pleading sense in your voice that made everyone accept your request. 

Well almost everyone, as the night went on and people went home or to bed. You were left with Trevor, Jack and Luke “you want another beer?” Luke asked as he got up with his empty beer bottle “please.” You nodded, the older two boys giving the same response. 

This was the first opportunity that they got to truthfully ask the question that plagued their minds all night “so was it Jake?” Trevor blurted out as he turned his attention to you “what about the theatre kid before him?” Jack truthfully never liked that one, thankfully he only lasted one summer. 

You toyed with your bracelet “if I tell you do you promise to keep it to yourselves?” If it got out you knew half of the people there would never look at you the same. 

Hell you weren’t even sure if Trevor and Jack would see you the same way again “we will not tell a soul.” They both nodded at the same time, practically sat on the edges of their seats. 

You let out a sigh, rubbing your lips together “it was all of them.” Those words made them freeze “you faked it with every single guy you’ve been with?” Jack let out a shocked laugh when you nodded. 

Trevor felt confused “I didn’t realise you were with such shit guys.” Some of the guys had notable reputations too “it wasn’t their faults-” you tried to give them some grace within the situation. 

But Jack was having none of it “if you have to fake it then it is on him.” Of course that’s what he’d say, the man prided himself on how good he was in bed after all. You had been privy to hearing the mutters through the wall when you stayed over to see Luke. 

The Ducks player nodded in agreement “we won’t tell them if you think they were shit.” He added wanting so desperately to hear more of this “it’s me okay!” Your words suddenly made them both go quiet. 

Their eyes went wide “I can’t cum so when I have sex I have to fake it.” Your voice was quieter as you didn’t know where Luke was “and before you ask yes I know my body is clearly broken-” you were cut off by the sound of the sliding door opening from the house. 

Luke walked out with the four beers in his hands “what is broken?” The three of you looked like kids caught with your hands in the cookie jar in that very moment “oh just the door of my closet in the apartment.” You quickly recovered, it wasn’t a lie. In fact, it was actually something you needed to fix.

He stared at you for a moment before he nodded “wait until I visit and I can help you.” Luke offered making you nod “sounds like a plan.” You sent him a smile, ignoring the conversation that you had just had with the boys. 

It seemed that even if you were able to sleep soundly amongst all of Luke’s snoring, Jack and Trevor were plagued with thoughts. Neither one could fall asleep as they sat there thinking about what you had said. 

How was it that a girl like you could have a problem that seemed so unbreakable? 

“Just so we’re both on the same page, she clearly has a shit taste in guys right?” Trevor blurted out as he stared at the ceiling “I mean it has to be that right?” He added not even sure if Jack was listening. 

Jack let out a harsh sigh “but how is she going got accept that?” He rolled over knowing that he shared the same thoughts “well I mean there is one way we could do it.” Trevor trailed off figuring, that it was the should have been obvious. 

The Hughes boy let out a laugh “yeah like she’s ever gonna go for that.” He shook his head rolling over to look out the window as he tried to force himself to go to sleep.

A party echoed out in the yard, music blared through the speakers as you made your way upstairs “I’m telling you that she’s not going to go for it.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose as he chugged back the remainder of his beer “why not?” Trevor whined crossing his arms. 

He took in a large amount of air in when he sighed “it’s not like she exactly has any other better options than sticking to never coming.” Those words made you freeze in front of their door. Why were they talking about you, and what was their potential option to help you? 

Your cheeks grew warm when your mind began to travel “because you think little miss perfect is gonna fuck the two of us to prove that she just has a shit taste in boys?” Those words made you scoff, it was a response that was a little louder than you had hoped when the boys went quiet “shit.” Jack was quick to open the door. 

Both of them were visibly relieved to see it was just you “care to join us?” Jack smirked at the sight of the irritated expression on your face “I am not little Miss Perfect.” You announced sticking your finger in his face. 

It was the response he wanted, knowing you had taken the bait “so why don’t you give us a chance then?” Trevor spoke up from behind the younger boy who nodded in agreement. 

Your fists clenched into balls “over my dead body.” You were embarrassed as you stormed off in the direction of your room “on a scale of one to ten how badly do you think we fucked up?” Trevor asked hearing the door slam behind you. 

Jack sucked at his teeth “I would lean closer to ten.” He nodded thinking about what would happen if Luke were to find out about what was said. 

The night had grown dark as you tried to push the boys comments back to the bottom of your mind. It was something that so negatively failed, especially when you began to picture those two. 

You had ended up in the bathroom having a shower trying to calm yourself down at first “fuck!” You grumbled letting your fingers thrust into your cunt as the steam stuck to your skin. 

Your body had started to shrivel like a prune due to how long you had been in there. Your body was hot as the image of Jack and Trevor lingered on your mind, picturing how they’d kiss you and morph your body in the ways they wanted to use you. You weren’t an idiot, if they were talking about you then it was clearly a competition in their minds. 

The peaks of your nipples throbbed as this clearly wasn’t working. Defeat wasn’t something that you accept gracefully, and that’s why you muttered to yourself as you grabbed one of Luke’s shirts and threw it on. Bringing your panties up your legs as you sent Luke one last look, as if you were checking that he was indeed asleep. 

You had to try to be quiet as you knew that everyone else was in there room, and with the minimal amounts of chatter that came from Quinn’s room when he spoke to his girlfriend on the phone. It was the timezones that caused him to be awake, but you knew you couldn’t be certain about the other rooms “shit.” You grumbled landing at Trevor and Jacks door to see that there room was empty. Their beds were made with their sandals missing, which only meant that they were downstairs. 

It was a lightbulb moment as you practically raced down using the banister as support. Chatter could be heard from outside and that’s where they were “pass me the blunt.” Jack’s voice was soft, muffled by the glass. 

Your feet brought you up to the door as you sighed knowing that beyond this moment if you wanted to turn back, you wouldn’t be able to “do my eyes deceive me or is little Miss Perfect stood in front of me?” Trevor teased, using the nickname that Jack had as his eyes drank in the sight of you. 

Jack could sense you were nervous “why don’t you come take a hit?” He offered holding the blunt in your direction “don’t know how.” You shook your head, making him smirk. 

Of course, weed was something you hadn’t dabbled in, how were they not surprised “I’ll teach ya.” Jack patted his thigh as he spread his legs open for you to sit there. 

He held the joint between his ring and pointer fingers when you sat down “just suck the air in but don’t inhale it.” The middle Hughes boy knew that you weren’t exactly some chain smoker so he had to help you. 

You nodded as you followed his instructions when he brought the blunt to your lips. Both boys watched on when Jack let his hand travel up the inside of her thigh “there we go.” He cooed until you let out a cough. 

It made them softly laugh when you shook your head “never doing that again.” You announced assuming that it would have done something to calm the nerves that ran through your veins.

Jack brought the blunt to his lips “what brought you down here?” He asked looking at his watch, you were usually fast asleep “I couldn’t sleep.” You confessed wanting sigh when you felt the breeze brush past you. 

Trevor smiled at your words “anything particular that brought the late shower on?” It was clear that your hair was still wet as it drenched the back of the shirt that you made into a dress “do you think you guys can really fix me?” The words made the two boys freeze. 

It wasn’t something that they thought you would come around to “because if I have to spend another fucking unsatisfactory night with fingers between my thighs I’m going to shoot someone.” Jack let out a soft laugh hearing your confession. 

He smiled bringing his lips to your cheek to kiss “you gonna be a good girl for us?” He quizzed you, circling his thumb on the inside of your thigh “let us break you?” He added which made you whimper in response.

Trevor almost felt jealous at how far away he was from you “why don’t we move this inside?” His proposal made your head snap in his direction. You seemed to sense where the boy came from “c’mon pretty girl.” Jack patted your thigh signalling to you to get up. 

Jack had never been more grateful for the fact that he picked a room downstairs, which you at the moment seemed to so happily run into “c’mere.” Trevor shut the door behind him. 

He brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. A grin plastered on his face as your head tilted in his direction so that he could kiss you. There present taste of beer mixed with the weed on his tongue that he dragged over your lower lip. A moan escaped your lips as Jack placed his hands on your hips “didn’t forget about you too.” you confessed, turning your head so that you could kiss him too. 

It was rougher when Trevor turned his attention to your neck. His kisses were hungry as he sucked at the skin “n-no marks.” You gasped not wanting to worry about covering more than your bikinis already did. 

Jack finally took a step back as he looked at you “why don’t you show us how you normally try to get off?” Jack’s fingers danced over the hem of Luke’s shirt that hung over your knee. 

Trevor nodded in agreement “doll, it ain’t like we don’t see those pathetic bikinis you wear.” His words were sharp, making you listen as you took a step back, “like you want us to know what is under ‘em.” He added, allowing his eyes to burn your skin.

The boys watched in awe as your fingers gripped at the ends of the shirt, you took in a deep breath in like it was meant to give you some newfound confidence. The room grew warmed as you pulled the white t-shirt off of your body, letting it fall onto the floor when you now stood in just a white thong. They both stood in silence, causing you to bite at your lip with your confidence immediately wavering.

You were quick to reach down wanting to grab the shirt, assuming that the boys thought this was a mistake or that you weren’t as pretty as they thought you’d be “let us get a good look at ya.” Trevor’s hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you from leaning over any further. 

 A whistle left his lips when you stood up straight “never thought these tits could ever have looked better than when they were in those bikinis.” His voice was a low growl, letting his fingers cup at your breasts before he gave them a squeeze. 

The feeling made a moan get caught in your throat “god imagine what she’s hiding under those panties?” Trevor turned to Jack, not letting his hands move from your boobs that his thumbs began to massage. 

Possibilities felt endless “you wanna let us see?” Jack asked making you nod. Trevor kissed at your neck whilst you locked your fingers into the sides of your panties. 

The fabric brushed against your skin when Trevor looked down to see your bare mound “don’t know how any of those boyfriends of yours used to let you leave them.” He sighed pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

Jack nodded in agreement “if we had a say you’d always be around ready for us.” Those words made you squirm and force your thighs together. 

Neither one of them were an idiot, easily sensing the effect they had on you “can you sit on the bed for me sweet girl?” Jack cooed tilting your jaw up to him so that he could kiss you. 

That kiss helped settle some of your nerves as you nodded. You sat on the edge of Jacks bed “higher.” Trevor motioned to you to move higher up the bed. 

You drove your hips up until you got sat in the middle of his bed “now why don’t you show us how you get off?” After all that was the entire reason that you were there so it made sense they watched you first.

When you lay down on the bed the boys looked at you like you were the sight for sore eyes “c’mon you can show us.” Trevor’s voice oozed this sense of cockiness as he motioned to you to start, brushing those waves of uncertainty aside.

Your heels pushed up to your ass as you spread your lefs open, seeing the boys stare back at you “need to make it wet.” You whimpered feeling Jack kneel into the bed. 

He took two of his fingers to spread your folds open, saliva pooled in his mouth before he let his spit fall onto your cunt. It ran down your clit making you squirm “that enough?” Jack asked standing back up straight as you nodded. 

You brought your fingers down your stomach and to your slit. The two fingers rubbed over your sensitive nub making the boy’s pants grow tight, your fingers travelled to your cunt as you let them thrust into the hole. The pace you used seemed to be a happy medium using Jack’s spit as some kind of lube that let your fingers create a squelching sound. 

Jack felt his throat grow tight “you think that you add another finger?” He could see how your eyes stuck on his now-formed boner “you want some encouragement?” The boy smirked when you nodded. 

Neither one hesitated to drop their pants as they pulled their cocks out of their boxers “can’t fit.” You shook your head watching as your mouth watered seeing them palm their members. 

Trevor sucked at his teeth “know you can do it.” He encouraged but still that didn’t seem to be enough. 

Your free hand went up to cup your boob, going tease your nipple that had been throbbing since it felt the cool air of Jack’s room “need help.” You pleaded, only ever having two fingers in your hole. Even the guys you dated seemed to stop at two, thinking that it was the perfect number. 

Jack took his precum over the head of his cock as he rubbed it down his length “why don’t you pick who.” If he had it his way he wouldn’t have even given Trevor a chance to get you first. 

When your eyes didn’t leave the Devils players it seemed your answer was written on the walls “no hard feels right?” He smirked tucking his cock back into boxers before he joined you on the bed. 

You sat up letting your back rest against his headboard “gonna relax f’me okay?” Jack asked watching you pull your own fingers from your cunt “okay.” You nodded letting your eyes shut when his thumb circled your clit. 

In the beginning he opted to start easy, with two fingers it was only slightly bigger than what you could fit in yourself “shit.” You whimpered letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 

His fingers grazed the spongey area of your cunt “uh huh baby want to hear you.” Jack kissed at your neck wanting to hear you scream “feels good.” You confessed making him nod. 

Jack pressed these opened-mouthed kisses on your jaw as he felt you clench around him “you see how hard you make him?” The Hughes boy turned his eyes to Trevor who palmed his cock at an even quicker pace “feel how hard you make me?” Jack brought your hand with his free one over his boxers. 

You took the time to feel his hard appendage and with that, Jack slid a third finger into your cunt “fuck!” Your toes curled at the new sensation. 

Jack lowered his head to your boob letting his lips wrap around your nipple “right there.” Your head rested against the cool wood behind you. 

His fingers felt every inch of you, the way your cunt clenched around his digits that attacked your needy hole “think you should get her clit Z.” Jack’s words made you whimper as you saw the boy’s swollen red tip look desperate for more of your attention “such a pretty girl ain’t she?” Trevor nodded, joining you on the other side of the bed. 

But he didn’t take the liberty of tucking himself away as he let his fingers tap on your lower lip “and a good listener too huh?” He teased watching your mouth suck at his fingers. 

He was forced to pull them out, not wanting to get too carried away “don’t stop.” There was a feeling you had never felt as Jack curled his fingers in this come hither motion. Trevor added to it letting his fingers drop down between Jacks hand and your clit. His calloused fingers were rough “fuck!” You called out watching Trevor drop his face to your chest. 

The boy clicked his tongue “look at this poor fucking tit all ignored.” He sighed not giving you a chance to respond as he too wrapped his lips around your other nipple. 

Looking down it was a sight of dreams as each boy sucked at your nipples, working in tandem on your clit and your cunt “I feel funny.” You confessed making them both look at each other.

It was encouragement for them to increase the pace of their fingers as Trevor rubbed your clit faster and Jack increased the pace of his thrusts “I think I’m gonna.” You trailed off with wide eyes as your body began to shake not sure if the pleasure was coming from your nipples, clit or cunt, or even a mixture of all three. 

Jack made a muffled grunt against your nipple that sent you over the edge, your face scrunched your face up letting your head jolt. Your cunt clenched around Jacks fingers as your body didn’t stop squirming. The boys didn’t stop there though as they brought you through your orgasm. 

The Hughes boy let his fingers begin to slow as your release didn’t seem to grow any sloppier around his digits “shit baby.” Jack let your nipple drop from his mouth with a pop. Your chest heaved as you nodded enough.” You whimpered feeling them retract their fingers away from you as Trevor finally let your other breast go. 

Trevor and Jack looked at the sight that you were in front of them “why don’t you taste yourself.” Jack offered his fingers bringing them into your mouth “so you can remember your first orgasm.” He added as Trevor had a devilish look in his eyes.

You went to turned your attention to the other boy whilst still sucking on Jacks fingers “I want a proper taste.” Trevor announced settling in between your legs. 

Your body was still sensitive and Jack was able to pick upon that “hey pretty girl.” His voice was soft, his fingers gripped at your jaw turning your head in his direction. 

His eyes caught yours “don’t worry about him right now?” Jack reassured you as Trevor kissed at your thigh “you want to still feel so good right?” Trevor asked wrapping his arm around your thigh when he blew against your cunt. 

The sensation made you squirm “please.” You nodded switching your gaze between both boys “a guy ever eaten this pretty cunt before?” Trevor ran his finger down your slit when he pressed a kiss against your other thigh. 

Jack focused his lips against the hollow of your collarbone “none.” But that wasn’t to say that you never wanted it, the guys you were with just wanted it to be you who went down on them “can’t believe you fucking thought you were the problem.” Jack clicked his tongue watching your eyes stick on Trevor. 

The boy mindlessly stared at your cunt, like he had never seen something so glorious “kiss?” You pleaded looking at Jack who couldn’t help but nod at you. 

His fingers gripped at your jaw as he started kissing you slowly at first. Trevor felt his cock throb watching the scene unfold in front of him. Jacks tongue ended up in your mouth and the Ducks player decided he couldn’t be the only one not having any fun. 

Trevor wrapped his other arm around your bare thigh, allowing your feet to settle on his shoulder blades “fucking hell.” His voice barely above a whisper before his head dropped against your cunt.

His mouth latched over your clit first making you moan into Jacks mouth “such a sweet cunt.” Trevor moaned sending shivers up your spine. The boy let his tongue travel to your weeping hole, his nose grazed your clit as he thrusted his tongue in against your walls. 

Your head fell back as Jack looked down “be a good girl and look at how good Z his making you feel.” He sucked at your earlobe making you whimper. 

Trevor’s eyes locked onto yours, his arms slightly loosened around your legs allowing you to drive your hips close to him “fuck z.” You moaned feeling Jack cup your tits once again “Jacky you’re missing out here.” Trevor confessed placing his thumb on your clit before he went back to fucking you with his tongue. 

Your eyes screwed shut as you felt Jack softly laugh against your skin “don’t have to worry because we’ve got plenty more in ya.” He looked at you through his devilishly long lashes “don’t we baby?” Jack asked as he sucked at your jaw. 

Silence swallowed you up when pleasure lulled in your ears. Trevor had been paying attention which made him scoff “he asked you a question doll.” The boy cupped his hand as he lay a smack against your cunt. 

The movement made you jolt when your eyes burst open “ahh,” you whimpered almost folding your body over “‘m sorry.” You apologised letting your lips form a pout. 

Trevor accepted the apology as he continued. He pressed a kiss against your clit “we just want you to be a good girl.” He sighed licking a stripe down your slit. 

Your thighs tensed around his head “because we don’t have to punish you then.” Your cunt clenched around his tongue as it lolled back into your hole “just wanna make you feel so good tonight.” Jack confessed going back to kissing your lips as you quickly became like a drug to him. 

There was the slightest scent of your perfume that was still on your skin that invaded his nostrils “please.” You nodded practically feeling like a brand new woman as the boys focused on you. 

Jack nodded running his fingers over your collarbone “c’mon sweet girl.” Jack cooed as you bit at your lip “you let this house hear you or else we’re gonna stop.” He warned squeezing your cheeks in his hand. 

Trevor pulled his tongue from your entrance before he let it lay flat running against your clit “seems like little miss perfect wants that.” Trevor taunted latching his lips around the sensitive nub. 

Jack gasped toying with your nipple between his fingers “you want Lukey to see what we are doing to his best friend?” The image made your voice quiver “h-he can’t.” You whimpered shaking your head. 

The boy between your thighs smirked “shame to keep this pretty pussy a secret.” Trevor sighed pressing a kiss against your clit “when she’s all soaked for us, it’s better to keep it our think no?” Jack asked pressing a wet kiss against your throat when you arched your back. 

The Ducks player let his tongue swirl around your sensitive nub, creating a healthy rhythm that caused your thighs to squeeze against his head “all for you.” You nodded with your voice turning breathy, almost angelic to the duo.

Those words went straight to the boys cocks that they were still so desperate to just let burst out, letting it soak your skin “can’t believe you tried to act like you were too good for us.” Jack pinched at your side making you jolt “I’m sorry.” You cried, your throat feeling raw as your heels pushed against Trevor’s shoulder blades. 

Jack smiled raking his fingers through your hair “‘s okay.” He mumbled pecking your lips “all that matters is that you’re here now.” Jack kissed you harder that time when your nails dug into his thigh. 

Trevor let his lips go from your clit as you whimpered not aware of how that hurt him more to stop than you could have known “please she’s been wanting to be a dumb little slut for us.” Trevor’s words were rough as he thrusted his fingers into your cunt. 

His were longer than Jacks but they weren’t as smooth either “please.” You begged clenching your walls around his digits “please what?” Trevor softly bit that the inside of your thigh. 

Your eyes almost rolled back into your head while Jack kissed at your shoulder “make me cum.” You whined wanting nothing more than to feel the high you felt earlier on “how can I say no to that.” Trevor clicked his tongue as he went back to sucking at your clit. 

His fingers did this scissoring motion stretching you out around him. The squelching noises echoed against the walls of the room, mixing with the sounds of your moans that slipped through Jacks kisses “such a spoilt girl ain’t ya.” Jack saw the sweat that formed on your stomach. 

You nodded whimpering against him “want you to cum really good for him okay?” Those words made your toes curl as the coil tightened in your stomach “can I?” You nodded not knowing it was possible for you to do it again. 

Trevor nodded refusing to slow down his thrusts as he grinded his hips into the bed beneath him. Words left your lips in a shaky chant “please fuck please.” You begged squirming as he didn’t relent running his tongue over your clit. 

You huffed shaking your head “c’mon sweet girl you can let go.” Jack egged you on kissing your lips, swallowing the moans from your mouth. 

Your legs shook when Trevor fingered you through your high, your release coating his fingers when the coil snapped in your stomach “shit, holy shit.” Your chest heaved letting your fingers tug at Trevor’s hair to pull him off of you. 

His fingers dropped from your cunt went you kissed him. Your release shone on his chin “fuck.” Trevor moaned feeling your tongue brush against his, your walls clenched around nothing as you knew it was the taste of your pussy on his tongue. 

Jack grunted from beside you as you turned back to look at him. There was a smile on your lips “you ready for one more?” He asked pushing your hair out of your face when you nodded. 

It made Trevor laugh “of course she is.” He mumbled tugging at the hair on the nape of your neck so that he could kiss you again. You felt as if the wind was knocked out of you with the amount of passion in it. 

A moan escaped from your lips “wanna taste you.” Your confession made his cock throb “how can I say no when a little slut asks me so nicely?” He nodded cupping your jaw as he smiled. 

Jack gripped at your sides “gonna let me fuck you while he does that?” Those words made you nod. 

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened but before you knew it Jack was on the end of the bed with his legs hanging over. You were hovering over his hips and of course Trevor stood over you, taking in the sight that you were through your thick eyelashes “remember when you thought you were too good to entertain us?” Trevor taunted you like those words hadn’t been spoken mere hours ago. 

You nodded feeling Jack kiss your shoulder blade “well I think it’s time you give us an apology for being such a fucking brat.” His words were harsh as Jack dragged the head of his cock against your clit “I’m sorry Trevor.” Jacks hand held your hip stopping you from sinking into his cock. 

Trevor laughed shaking his head “you gotta do a whole lot better than that.” His fingers brushed through your hair “and that’s gonna start with you getting on his dick okay?” You were eager to please them both. 

Jack let out a grunt “condom?” He asked when your head leaned against his shoulder “on the pill.” Your words made him gasp finally letting your cunt sink down on his cock. 

The ducks player smirked watching how your jaw went slack “shit this cunt is-wow.” Jack let his teeth gnaw at your shoulder blade. 

Neither one of you moved, taking the chance let your walls stretch around his cock. Trevor palmed himself watching how your eyes screwed shut enjoying how the boy felt inside of you “gonna have to try it one day too.” He nodded as you finally started lifting yourself up against Jack “you ready f’me to fuck you huh?” Jack asked, your head bobbed with your one hand resting on his thigh your nails digging into his skin. 

Jacks blue orbs burnt into the back of your head “this cunt is so perfect god.” He barked wrapping his one arm around your waist to keep your back flush against his chest “don’t stop.” The Devils player drunk in your whimpers while you squirmed. 

He adjusted his legs so that you had spread yours around his. Letting the feelings of pleasure soak over you, not sure how much more of him you could actually take. A grunt came from in front of you, reminding you that it wasn’t just you and Jack in that room.

Trevor’s precum oozed out of his cock and you swore you could see a smirk on his face when your mouth watered “you wanna suck my cock?” He asked watching you nodded. 

His breath grew short when you used your tongue to spread his liquid around his length “shit this mouth is-” Trevor cut himself off as you took more of his cock in your mouth. 

His fingers messily tugged at your hair forming a loose pony at the back of your head, encouraging you to work his cock between your lips “you want more?” He asked seeing how you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 

Jack had settled into a rhythm he liked unintentionally knocking your hand off of him. This cause you to reach out at Trevor’s thighs “fuck.” Both boys spoke through gritted teeth as Trevor’s cock hit your throat causing tears to spill from your eyes when you clenched around Jacks cock. 

The ducks player watched how you worked your tongue on the underside of his length “don’t stop pretty girl.” He nodded hearing the squelching of your cunt as Jack fucked you “yeah sweets we wanna use you proper.” Jack cooed gripping at your hip, pinching at the skin. 

You moaned around Trevor almost toppling him over “think you like the idea of us using you.” His words were full of desire, fantasies forming in his mind wanting to go through with them in that moment. 

Sweat stuck to your skin, turning you into a whimper mess “god you’re such a cock hungry slut.” Trevor muttered tugging at your hair eliciting another moan from your lips

The sensation made his eyes screw shut “fuck I’m gonna cum.” Trevor response was mangled, Jack started chasing his own high that was quickly approaching when he heard that message “you gonna let me make a mess in this pretty little mouth of yours?” He brought his one hand forward from your hair. 

His thumb brushed against your cheek “mhm.” Tears streamed down your cheeks while your eyes darted up to his. 

Trevor’s movements increased fucking your face as if you were his own hand. He took that moment before he became undone. His hand held you in place so his release hit the back of your throat all at once. 

Your throat gagged at the new sensation causing his cock to twitch before he went lax letting go of your hair. You hollowed out your cheeks as you let your lips swallow every last drop of what had been on his skin cleaning him up in the process. 

Gasps escaped from your lips causing droplets of his release to drip out of the side of your mouth “don’t go making a mess now.” Trevor clicked his tongue catching it with his thumb before he brought it into your mouth. 

Your lips wrapped around his digit swirling your tongue around it like it was his cock all over again “fuck I’m gonna make a mess in this pussy.” Jack announced feeling that he was close. 

His pace turned animalistic and if Trevor wasn’t in front of you, you swore you would have fallen over “such a tight cunt.” The boy moaned with his eyes glued to the way your folds swallowed his cock. 

Trevor felt himself grow hard again “such a pretty little cock drunk slut ain’t ya?” He asked watching your eyes grow glassy “yeah.” You cried hearing how your thighs slapped against Jack with every thrust of his cock. 

He almost felt as if he could feel your guts he was so deep, touch places you didn’t even know were in you “needed you both so bad.” You were surprised you were able to form a coherent sentence “knew you were always gonna be so desperate for us.” Trevor almost laughed watching your head bob as you nodded along. 

Your mouth watered seeing how his cock still oozed while his hand ran along the underside of it “you wanna feel this too pretty girl?” It was almost the sweetest thing he had said that night. 

It seemed to throw you off as you chewed at your lip sensing you were close “or maybe we should stop until this little slut remembers how to talk.” The threat held no weight as Jack was far too close with your walls squeezing his cock to let you off of him, but that wasn’t something that you considered “please Z.” Your moan sounded like you were a pornstar letting the whimpers of desperation escape from your throat. 

Trevor crouched down pumping his cock once more before he let the head sit in your clit “shit doll you like that?” Jack asked feeling you clench around him “so good.” You nodded letting your head fall against his shoulder. 

The sight was something Trevor swore should have been in the Louvre. His cock dragged over your clit matching the pace of Jacks thrusts. The Hughes boy was desperate to get you to cum first because he knew that the moment he finish he was a goner. 

Trevor begun to kiss at your throat which he now had the perfect spot to do as such “go on.” Trevor mumbled sucking at your sweet skin “make a mess on Jacky boys cock.” Your breathy gasps filled the room as your eyes screwed shut. 

Jack grunted from behind you “yeah baby make a mess for me.” Between Jacks cock fucking you senseless, Trevor’s cock against your clit and now both boys marking up your throat you were done. 

You shuttered out a cry while your face contorted letting tears fall from your shut eyes as your orgasm ripped through you. Neither boy stopped what they were doing, wanting to guide you through your orgasm “shit shit so good!” Jack sputtered out feeling your cunt clench around him. 

His eyes practically rolled back into his head as his cock shot warm sticky ropes of release into your cunt “fucking hell.” Trevor softly laughed against your throat when the younger boy lulled his thrusts before he kissed your shoulder. 

Your chest heaved trying to catch your breath you lay against Jack slowly coming back to, before you softly clenched around him remembering that he was still there “you with us baby?” Jack asked brushing your hair out of your face. 

You nodded gripping onto Trevor’s arm to help yourself up “damn.” Jack mumbled looking down at where you had been sat. A mix of your release and Jacks oozed out of your cunt and down the inside of your thigh as you used Trevor to support you. 

Trevor’s eyes followed Jacks before he let out a soft gasp “you know you could do that?” His hand squeezed at your hip before he set you on the bed next to the devils player. 

You shook your head “do what?” You asked growing confused “this broken girl just squirted.” Trevor scooped the release that had fallen before he thrusted his fingers into your cunt once more “we can’t have you forgetting about this now can we?” He asked watching your hand try to wrap around his wrist to stop him. 

Jack smirked seeing how you dropped back onto the bed, allowing your face to contort as you felt with a mix of pleasure and overstimulation “silly girl this summer is only just getting started.” The devils player nipped at your ear knowing that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Because here is to the summer you’ll never forget. 

[webslingingslasher]

Hey, j! an u do nerdy!Peter and Angel being scared she's using him?

*a/n: nerdy!peter has finally been released from his cage. he missed you all very much.

'and what do you do for him?'

you've been thinking about it for days. peter's softly snoring on your left but you can't sleep, tossing and turning, looking down every so often at your ring finger and feeling the same gut punch you have for the past seventy two hours.

your friend's cousin just moved to new york to follow her dreams, she's nineteen and full of life. she also very innocently asked a question that sent you tumbling down a whirlpool. you all met up for brunch, you even went the extra mile and snuck her a mimosa to show how friendly the city would be to her- but then she had to ask about your ring.

it's a new addition, you just got used to the weight and sparkle but anytime someone asks, you're shoving it in their face and bragging.

'that's a big ass diamond!'

'i know! i couldn't believe it when he asked me... i kept asking him if he was sure.'

of course you had to spill all the proposal details, your friend's cousin awwing at the right moments before doubling down with a congratulations. it was a nice moment that led into other conversations, somehow falling back on rent prices.

'it's fucking crazy out here, i don't know how you guys do it. how much do you pay in rent?' your friend shared her monthly rent, you stayed quiet, her cousin was looking at you for an answer.

'ew. you think i pay rent?' you flashed your ring again, giggles fell around the table, the topic moved on. someone mentioned a restaurant, you chimed in to say it was amazing, that your fiance took you there for your last anniversary.

'god damn, the cheapest thing on the menu is two hundred bucks! i looked it up and a glass of wine was like eighty dollars, that's crazy!'

'hmm... peter splurged on a bottle.' there was a chorus, the girls loved hearing that. you shrugged at your humble brag. when you have a good man, you want everyone to know. little comments got brushed under the table, nothing major until the bill came.

you offered to pay, the two girls with you excited with your generosity. 'ah, don't thank me, it's on peter.' you slid the credit card to the end of the table, your friend's cousin put the final nail in the coffin.

'okay, okay, you gotta tell me. so, he buys for your friends, he pays the rent, he buys you super expensive dinner, you have a rock on your finger... and what do you do for him?' she laughed, your friend laughed, you laughed. it was funny. until you couldn't come up with anything you give him back.

now it's been three days and you're watching peter sleep, feeling more and more guilt creep in by the minute. you don't deserve the things he's given you. you're not sure if curling up to him makes you feel better or not but he's warm and your eyes are finally feeling heavy.

---

'good morning, angel.' peter made you breakfast and while your heart fills with adoration, you have to fight the urge to frown. he does everything for you and you can't even make him breakfast?

'good morning.' you're still tired, you weren't able to sleep in either. rest hasn't come easily to you, peter's been noticing it too. 'i felt you moving around last night.'

'i couldn't sleep. i finally dropped off around three.' you sit at the kitchen counter and rest your head on your hand, peter kisses your forehead, the oven timer goes off. he made cinnamon rolls.

'was anything keeping you up? you've been a little quiet since you had lunch with your friends.' he knows something's off, he's just not prying it out of you yet. 'i don't know, i couldn't get my mind to turn off i guess.'

you're staring at your ring again, peter serves you the middle roll. it's the best one. he splurged on the ring, he pays for the rent, he pays for every date, he buys for your friends, he gives you the middle cinnamon roll and you... and you...

'i know i don't have to tell you this, angel, but just in case... you can tell me anything. even if it's something you don't think i want to hear.' peter's thinking it's something about your friend or work, something that doesn't really pertain to him but if it's weighing on you, it should weigh on him too.

'i know.' you reach for your breakfast, the shine of your diamond stops you. 'how much did you spend on my ring?' peter's looking at your ring too, a sly smile crosses over his face.

'that's for me to know and you to never find out.' he's not saying it because it was cheap, you know it wasn't. you wouldn't care if it was, the fact he got down on one knee and asked you to be his forever was enough to say yes, even if he did it with a ring pop. but you've been scrolling and trying to do your own investigative work and what you've found makes you feel like you don't deserve it.

'how much money do you make every month?' you have an idea but you don't have a specific number and you need a dollar amount. peter looks at you funny, probably because your question came from left field. 'why do you want to know?'

'because i'm going to marry you and i want to know your finances.' it's a cheap shot around the truth, peter knows it too. 'alright, well, we'll talk about that when we get there. we haven't even talked about the wedding yet.' you told peter you wanted a couple months to bask in the fiance glow and you'd start planning when you got bored of it, he had no problems with it.

'i think money is a great starting point, how else am i supposed to know our budget?'

'tell me how much you want to spend and i'll let you know if it's possible.' you don't want a numbers game but you'll play. 'ten thousand?'

'yes.'

'twenty?'

'yes.'

he has to draw the line somewhere, you're going to find it. 'fifty?' he laughs through a bite of icing, you feel like you still haven't scraped the barrel. 'if you can find a way to blow fifty grand on a wedding, sure.'

you're not pushing it any further, you have a feeling that no matter what you said, peter would tell you it's doable. it's frustrating and the only thing that eases you is the sweet, sticky pastry in front of you. 'you'd tell me if you were broke, right?'

'hey,' peter puts his cinnamon roll next to yours. 'you've never had to worry about money before, you don't need to now, either. is that what you're worried about? our wedding budget?' it's not but you'll take the bait, you're tired of talking in circles.

you take too much and he'll never admit it.

'yeah.' you're looking at your ring again, you're not hungry anymore.

'don't worry about it, angel.' peter kisses your temple. 'i'll take care of you.' you know he will. that's why you feel so bad.

---

you might not be able to do much but you can pay for dinner.

'i want to go out for dinner.'

peter's on board. 'ooh, date night. whatcha thinking?' you blurt his favorite place, he's extra excited now. 'double yes, six or seven?'

'six thirty?' you think his eyes have stars in them. 'i love when you meet me in the middle. six thirty it is, i'll reserve a table right now.' you grin, your plan is already rolling into motion.

his favorite dinner and when he leasts expects it, you're going to put your card down instead. it'll be your treat tonight. even if it's minor, it'll make you feel better.

at least you thought. dinner was excellent, the conversation was even better- you felt more connected to him tonight than you had in the past week. the second the bill came, you scrambled for it.

'oh, do you want to guess the total?' it's a small game you've both come up with, you each take a guess at the number to see who memorized the prices best. 'nope, i'm paying for this one.'

'cute. pass it over, angel.' he thinks you're playing, you refuse to hand the check back to him. 

'it's on me tonight.'

'then pay with my card.' you shake your head, 'i'm using mine. dinner's on me, i mean it.' peter's uncomfortable but he's playing nice in public. 'no. give me the check, please.'

you hold it with a vice grip, he would have to pry it from you. 'i'm paying, peter.'

'no you're not. you don't pay for me, that's my job.' you grit your teeth in frustration before easing into a smile. 'not tonight, petey. let me take over.'

'not happening. give me the check.'

'no. i'm paying.' you won't let him win this one. you need this, you need to feel useful for something. 'angel, seriously, hand it over.'

'no.'

'i always pay, let me see it.' that's more than enough reason to keep it from him. 'exactly, let me get this one this time.' peter looks at you dead on, he's not budging. 'no.'

'you're not paying for this no matter what, peter. i wanted to treat you to dinner and i am.' he sighs, you know he's about to gentle parent you into giving him what he wants but you're prepared for it and you won't give in.

'go ahead and pay for it, i'm just going to send you the money for it.' your mouth parts, you didn't expect that curveball. 'if you do, i'm sending it back. double.'

'i'll block you from sending it back, don't test me.' you buffer in the silence, peter tries to grab the checkbook from your hands, you slide it underneath the table. 'i'm paying and you're not reimbursing me. got it?'

you have your card ready, the second you see the waiter you'll hand it over before peter can think about reaching for his wallet. 'you're not paying and that's final.'

'no, i'm paying and that's-'

'are we ready with the check or do we need some more time?' you grin at the waiter, he came right on time. you hand over the bill and your card, peter's card is outstretched with yours. the waiter looks between the two with an awkward smile, you push yours further out- peter opens his big mouth.

'don't take her card. use mine.'

'i'm capable of buying you a dinner!' your waiter's caught in the middle and on everything in you, you swears he went with peter because he's a man. 'use mine.' your waiter takes peter's card and swiftly leaves the table.

you're defeated. you slump back in your seat with crossed arms.

'i told you i was paying.' he's happy about it. the one thing you thought you could give him, he just took from you. you don't know if you're more mad at him or yourself. you blankly stare at the wall across from you. you stare at it when peter's card is returned, you stare at it as he signs the receipt, you stare at it while he asks if you're ready.

you move in silence. you have nothing positive and nothing negative to say. you feel beat down. 'and what do you do for him?' nothing. not even pay for a god damn dinner. peter swings his arm over your shoulder, you shrug it off a block down.

'wanna get some ice cream?' you shake your head. you don't want to force another expense on him. 'oh c'mon, you love something sweet after dinner. how about that chocolatier place next to the apartment?'

you think he can sense you're upset. 'i'll let you pay. how about that?' he knows you're mad about it and offering you to pay for a cupcake instead of a full blown dinner sounds like he's giving you peanuts.

'can you go to may's?' he looks confused. 'why? what's at may's?'

'hopefully you. unfortunately we live together and i don't want to be around you right now.' you can shut him out of the bedroom but it sucks knowing he's right there... probably doing something for you that he won't let you return the favor on.

'you're kicking me out because i didn't let you pay for dinner? that's a little extreme.' your guilt comes out as anger, it's not his fault but it is. 'no, peter, you're the extreme one. i'm supposed to marry you and you can't even let me buy you dinner? i'm going home, don't follow me.'

of course he's following you. 'this is a really stupid thing to argue over.'

'yeah, it is. so why are you?' if he thinks it's so stupid why wouldn't he just let you pay? couldn't he tell how much you needed it? 'i'm not fighting with you, angel. i just don't know why after five years buying me dinner is a hill you want to die on.'

'because! you, you- ugh! go to may's, i'm done with you.'

peter's been with you long enough he knows when to back off. 'fine. you win. i'll hang with may for a couple hours but i'm not sleeping there.' if he thinks that means anything to you, he has another thing coming. 'i'm locking the bedroom door, you can sleep on the couch.'

'are you-'

'serious? deathly. thanks for dinner, peter.' you made sure to end the argument on how it started, just in case he needed to ask himself how he got in his position. you take off into a small crowd and arrive home by yourself.

the small adrenaline rush you had settled, all you can think about is your fiance. he bought you dinner and you yelled at him. he paid for a meal and you kicked him out of the home he pays rent for. even when you're trying to do the right thing you failed.

you stare at your ring, think of peter's confused face and start crying. once you start, you can't stop. every negative thought and feeling you've harbored comes pouring out- you're nasty and you don't deserve peter.

and you damn well don't deserve his ring. not an expensive one. you're not worthy of it, you've given him nothing in return. turning the hall for your bedroom, you fall on your shared bed and feel worse thinking about how peter bought the new mattress.

he's tailored the last four- basically five years of his life to you and your wants and needs and you can't think of a damn thing you've given in return. you sob, your tears are salty and you're happy peter isn't there, if he was, holding you would make everything worse.

this was a private breakdown, the kind where you feel like you're about to throw up from crying too hard. you gasp for air, the ring on your finger feels choking. you rip it off your finger and slam it down on the nightstand, you can finally breathe. tears are still racing down your cheeks but you can think clear, everything screams that you need to tell your fiance.

you need to tell peter that you're not okay because now you're treating him like he isn't okay. and it's all because of the ring. you can try and cope with everything else but a two carat diamond on your hand was too far. you have the ring but no wifely duties, you just watch peter tend to your every need and feel more and more useless.

it feels good to cry about it. you feel less like a monster. you sniffle and catch yourself tearing up about it over and over, you squeeze your eyes shut- you think you fall asleep crying.

---

the tv is on when you wake up. the bedroom is dark but you can see a peek of light under the door, a soft candance of sound follows with it. peter's home and even though you didn't lock the door, he's respecting your space.

your ring is still on the nightstand. you have to give it back. and apologize to the person you love most. you hesitantly grip the gem in the palm of your hand, it feels heavier than normal, you're not sure if you're doing the right thing.

but you see that peter's still awake and folding the laundry you left in the dryer. you've never felt more sure. you don't deserve the ring. you don't deserve him.

'i thought you were down for the night.' you check the microwave for the time, it's a little after eleven. you're not sure how to tell him, seeing him fold your socks sends a pang to your heart. you hold out your hand, he does it back, your engagement ring falls into his palm.

'i don't want it.'

panic. instant, fucking, panic. 'what do you mean you don't want it? the ring? me? engagement? are you breaking up with me?' peter's chest rises and falls rapidly, all of a sudden your panic is matching his and you're crying again.

'angel, you really need to talk to me right now. why is your ring not on your finger? what does 'i don't want it' mean?' you shake your head, peter's trying to be the calm one but he's failing.

'why the fuck did you give me your ring back?'

you whimper, it sounds like you just got shot. you did the wrong thing. you keep messing up. 'i'm sorry! i'm sorry, i'll just-' you try to take it back, peter's hand closes around it. 'no. you don't give me your ring and tell me you don't want it just to take it back.'

'i didn't mean it, i swear i didn't mean it. i want it back!'

'you meant it enough to give it back! what the hell is happening?' you went too far, you're not sure how to take it all back. 'give me my ring back, peter!' you're fighting with him for it, it's a lost cause but you're not giving up.

'you can't walk up to me after a fight, tell me you don't want the ring and start crying and beg for it back when i question you. no, you're not getting it back.' you're trying to pry his fingers off it, struggling more and more with each passing second.

'you've been weird for the past week. are you getting cold feet? do you want to call off the engagement? i'm at such a loss right now, why the hell would you give me your ring back?' you're in a panic, everything is crumbling at your fingertips.

'because i don't like it!' peter stops fighting as hard, you gasp for air the second it's back on your finger. it feels like a bandaid on the situation but it's better than nothing when you're preparing for war.

'you don't like the ring?' he sounds sad. really, really sad. 'that's okay, angel. i wish you would've said something sooner but we can pick something else out.' you can't let him be this kind when he's sad. the truth has to come out.

you sit next to him on the couch and lay your head on his shoulder, sometimes hard things are easier to say if you're not looking at him.

'i love the ring, peter. i really do. i just don't deserve it.'

even if you missed wearing it for a few minutes, you feel ashamed looking at it. 'why wouldn't you deserve it?' you chew on the inside of your cheek, you don't know how to explain it without him brushing it off. you have real, valid concerns about the future you have with him.

'you're gonna think it's stupid.' you're soft spoken.

peter matches it. 'maybe. but tell me anyway.' you take a deep breath and close your eyes, the story spills out. it starts last week at brunch, you give him the side comments that fell into your internal crisis.

'-and when she asked 'what do you do for him' i couldn't think of one thing. so i kept thinking about it and i don't have anything. i use you, peter. you pay for the rent, you buy me anything i want, you make dinner all the time, you clean the dishes, and you gave me a big ass diamond i don't deserve. i don't deserve you.'

peter leans his head back against the couch, a deep breath follows. 'and when i refused to let you buy me dinner, it was the final straw.' it was a very small, fine straw but he didn't know the load you were carrying- of course it all fell apart right there.

'i want to spend the rest of my life with you. i just don't want you to wake up one day and regret it when you realize i don't do enough in return.' that's the biggest fear you have. the unspoken one that kept haunting you, that one day ten years from now, you'd wake up to an empty house with a pack of divorce papers.

'you're right, angel. i think it's stupid.' you restrain from telling him off, you're glad you did. 'but it doesn't sound stupid to you, so, as the person who asked you to marry them, do you want to hear why i think you deserve it?'

you nod against his shoulder. 'please.'

'because it's you. that's why you deserve it. you have had my back every day for the past five years, like, you're solidly in my corner. and i've never had that from another person before. if i have to cancel something for spider-man, you tell me not to say sorry for it. when i forgot my cheat sheet for my third year midterm, you ditched your class to bring me it. when i was sick a couple months ago, you called out of work to take care of me. when i helped may move in her new furniture, you were there before i was. you pack me lunch every day, with a note and every day when i come home i get greeted with an 'i missed you' and a kiss.'

you hope if you stay quiet he'll keep going. he does.

'that's something i can't repay you for. but i can take care of you and make your life easier, and that makes me feel better about it. you give me a reason to get out of bed in the morning, if anything you deserve a bigger ring.'

peter bragging about you made you feel a lot better. he thinks you give him more than enough, it's just in a different way. 'if we're being honest, the money stuff makes me a little uncomfortable, i feel like you're spending too much on me.'

it was never about the wedding or the ring, it was about how much you think you're really worth. 'that's where all the questions came from?' you nod, peter shifts around, you end up curled in even closer to his side.

'i just don't want you spending more money than you have to just because you think it's your job to provide for me.'

'if we're being honest, i have something to tell you.' your fears are true, you put peter into crippling debt. 'i wasn't sure how to tell you and you were going to find out eventually but... remember that trust fund my parents left for me that i got when i turned twenty one?' it's worse than you thought. he never got one, did he?

'yeah?'

'i don't know why i lied but i got a lot more than i actually told you.' you slowly raised your head up to look at him, he's nervous for your reaction. you're still processing what was said.

'peter, are we rich?' you watch his hand teeter back and forth, your jaw drops open. 'i was stressed out for an entire week about you paying rent and now you're telling me we have money?!'

you gasp, would you be able to accomplish every new yorker's dream? 'do we have house money?' peter corrects you quickly. 'okay, woah, calm down, we're not millionaires... but yes, we do have a down payment on a house money.'

you've been bamboozled. 'then where's the house?'

'wedding first, house second. whatever's leftover from the wedding we can put down on a house.' that made your decision real quick. 'courthouse. i want a three bedroom.'

'we can have a wedding and a three bedroom, i promise. once we get married it becomes our money and we can spend it however we want. but until then it's my money and i'm gonna make sure you get a wedding out of it.' you'll accept it but it still doesn't feel even.

'i just feel bad that you do everything and i barely do anything to repay you.' now that you noticed it you're not sure if you'll be able to notice it. 'what does do everything mean to you?'

'you pay the rent, you pay the bills, you pay for all our dates, you clean the dishes and cook dinner five night out of the week-' you point to the mess in front of you- 'you fold our laundry.'

'we already talked about rent and bills, that conversation is over. i pay for our dates because you buy the groceries, in case you forgot.' you might've. 'if you pay for it when we eat at home, i should pay for it when we go out. the other stuff is household chores, i live here, i should do those things. i make dinner because we have to eat, i clean dishes because they need to get washed, i fold the laundry because half of it is mine. do i really need to tell you how you do way more than me around here?'

it doesn't feel like you do so... 'yes.'

'you wash our sheets once a week and remake the bed, you make the bed every morning, every sunday you plan out our dinners and go shopping. i've never touched our vacuum, actually, i don't think i've ever adjusted a pillow on this couch either. you decorated for christmas and halloween, you're definitely the only one who's ever cleaned the shower and don't think i haven't noticed how since you've moved in i've never, not even once, run out of deodorant or toothpaste. i help with some stuff but you're the one that makes this a home, angel.'

you do all those things. and support peter with everything in you.

you do deserve the ring.

'so i really earned the wifey title?'

'more than earned. you were made for that role... in a non misogynistic way, of course.' you grin, you can't wait to marry him. 'i can't believe i didn't think i did enough. i'm kind of awesome around here, aren't i?'

'you're the reason we're able to run the routine so smoothly, all i do is keep the lights on.' you raise your eyebrows, 'maybe you're the one that doesn't deserve me.'

'you're probably right. that's why i gotta use the free rent ruse to trick you into staying with me.' you play gasp and show off the best piece of jewelry you'll ever be gifted. 'and you trapped me with a diamond.'

'if i keep you focused on the sparkle you won't notice my con man ways.' he must see you lost in the little rainbows. 'well, it's working.'

'good. let me know when it starts to wear off, i'll get you a bigger one.' you know he's joking but you don't want a bigger diamond, you like this one. it's perfect because it's the one he picked out for you.

'you know, sometimes bigger isn't better.' 

[janeyseymour]

Accidentally In Love

Summary: sometimes you and melissa joke that you're 'wives'. somewhere along the line, it's not a joke anymore.

WC: 3.35k

If there’s one thing that you love about working at Abbott Elementary, it’s your coworkers. Of course, the children are wonderful no matter where you would’ve ended up, but your coworkers can make or break the work day for you. And this quirky, rundown school, with a ragtag group of teachers that have quickly made their way into your heart, has the best team that you could ask for. While all of the teachers are supportive for the most part, you have found yourself in that exclusive little friend group that has agreed to be part of a documentary on the Philadelphia public school system.

Janine Teagues, Gregory Eddie, Jacob Hill, Barbara Howard, Mr. Johnson (you realize far too late into the friendship that you genuinely don’t have the slightest clue what his first name is), Principal Ava Coleman, and… perhaps your favorite one: Melissa Schemmenti. 

All of your friends are wonderful in their own ways, but the redhead has a special place in your heart. It’s been made known to you that the second grade teacher is usually rough around the edges, but since your appearance she’s softened significantly.

It’s been a couple of years since you’ve joined the second grade team, and at this point, it’s odd to see you or Melissa on your own. It seems that the two of you are always together and close whenever possible at school.

And that… that might be your doing. You’re hopelessly in love with the woman who took you under her wing and helped you succeed in this less affluent community. You soak up any time that you can get with her, and it’s clear to you that she doesn’t mind in the slightest. If you don’t seek her out, she meanders her way down to your classroom to sit with you while you grade. It’s always like the calm amidst the chaos that is always happening at the school.

There’s something warm and comforting about the two of you being in a room together. There are times where the silence that comes over the two of you is more than comfortable- just sitting together in peace while you grade student work. And then there are times where the two of you chat about what’s happening at the Abbott. And then of course, there are the conversations that take place surrounding real life things- like now.

You had just received an email from your landlord that your rent was going up a significant amount- enough that you wouldn’t necessarily be sitting comfortably anymore. You groan quietly and lay your head down on your desk.

“What is it?” Melissa asks you. “A kid fail? Was it Kimiyah?”

You shake your head softly before turning your laptop to face the redhead. “From my landlord.”

The woman looks through her glasses to skim over the email that you had just received. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you sigh quietly. “This- this could break me.”

“So move in with me,” your colleague suggests casually.

You turn to face her, eyes drifting from the papers in front of you to those green eyes. “What?”

“I have an extra room, and I could use a roommate again since Jacob moved out,” the redhead shrugs. When you only continue to look at her strangely, she sighs. “You can move into my nice house with me, or you can go find some slum where you’re paying a ridiculous amount of money to hate your home. Your choice.”

“I-” you smile softly. “I’ll move in with you.”

“Good choice,” Melissa tells you as she sets a gentle hand on your knee. “We can start moving stuff in this weekend.”

You technically still have your apartment for another month, but almost all of your things are out and moved into the Schemmenti household.

“Just move in early,” your coworker tells you at lunch that day. “It’s not like you’re paying rent.”

“I already told you, I’d pay rent,” you argue back.

“You’re not payin’ me nothin, hun,” Melissa tells you sternly.

At the table beside you, Jacob, Janine, and Gregory all smile to themselves. It’s so nice to see the two of you happy and together.

You end up going to Melissa’s house (your house too, you guess) that night.

“You’ve been here before,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “You know the deal with everything.”

You just nod and smile at the kitchen counter while she cooks. And damn, is it a good meal. Of course, because she cooks, that means you clean. She never lingers far from sight though- mostly perching herself at the island with a glass of wine, watching to make sure you do it right. You do. Of course you do.

The two of you settle on the couch with your respective drinks and sigh with content.

“This is nice,” you mumble as you maneuver it so that your legs are tucked under you.

Melissa hums her agreement. “To a new chapter in life.” She raises her glass slightly, and you have to lean over just a little to clink your mug with her glass. 

The weekend passes nicely and calmly. There is one hitch in your morning though. You had never thought that Melissa could look more beautiful than she does at work, but it turns out that she’s incredibly stunning as she comes down the steps from a night’s rest. You find that her natural beauty is something that draws you in much more than you thought it could.

You and your new roommate go grocery shopping together, finding that it’s easier to do such a tedious errand together. You lounge around for the rest of that Saturday, and on Sunday, you help her prep meals for lunch. You find that you’re quite excited to not be resigned to boring sandwiches and salads anymore. 

Come Monday, Melissa insists on driving to work, and she’s bringing you along with her.

“Why would we drive separately?” she raises a brow. “Save gas, and save the planet.”

“I see Jacob influenced you,” you smirk.

“Shut up.” Green eyes are rolled.

“You love me,” you tease her.

“You’re lucky.”

You can only give your coworker and roommate an innocent smile.

“You want coffee?” Melissa tosses over her shoulder as you go to the refrigerator to put your lunches away.

“Please,” you chuckle weakly before sitting in your designated spot.

By the time the redhead is bringing over two mugs of coffee, the staff room has filled up significantly.

Jacob watches as his former roommate sets the cup of coffee down in front of you. And then he watches the way that you look up from the papers that you’re grading to smile warmly at the redhead.

“Thank you.” There’s something about the look in your eyes that makes the social studies teacher’s heart warm.

As the two of you get used to living with each other, life becomes quite domestic. There’s a natural flow and easiness that follows the two of you. There’s rarely a disagreement, and when there is, it’s resolved quickly- the two of you have come to realize that it’s you two against the world.

On work days, the two of you carpool- almost exclusively in her car. She’ll tease you and tell you that you’re her passenger princess. It gets you to roll your eyes each and every time. You eat the lunches that she preps for you, not caring in the slightest that you get teased for taking advantage of her cooking. And when you head home, both of you make dinner before settling on the couch to get some work done as the television drones on softly in the background. It’s not uncommon for one or both of you to doze off on the couch once you’ve given up with grading and preparation for the days to come, curling up into the other’s side with a soft hum.

And on weekends, it’s just as domestic- if not more so. There’s warm mornings with breakfast, joint grocery shopping, lazy days, times at church together, even a few Schemmenti family dinners that you’re invited to.

It’s gotten to a point where the two of you have been living together for quite some time, and at this point, you joke that you’re wives. You really are in all ways- aside from the fact that you aren’t in a relationship. It’s almost like a common law marriage at this point. You’ve been referring to her as your “wife” for a while now, you live together, and neither of you really has the intention to stop living together any time soon. The only thing that doesn’t make your common law marriage official is the fact that you aren’t actually together romantically- at least not on both ends of the relationship.

You’re somehow more in love with the redhead than you were when you first started. And unbeknownst to you, Melissa has only fallen further in love with your than she ever thought possible. But because neither of you want to ruin what you have going for you, you stay quiet. You keep your thoughts on the matter to yourself and mask those emotions through jokes. She does the same. 

Your coworkers know that the two of you are practically inseparable- you’ve even managed to edge your way past Barbara. It’s not that she minds though; now she’s more available to Gerald.

Today though, after work, Melissa is supposed to go out with Barbara. And at lunch, the kindergarten teacher has to tell her colleague that she’s unable to follow through with their plans.

“I’m so sorry dear,” Barbara sighs softly. “It entirely slipped my mind that Gerald has an appointment that I have to pick him up from.”

The second grade teacher shrugs.

“But I’m sure it will give you some more of that quality time with your wife,” the veteran teacher smiles.

“My wife?” Melissa raises her brow. “What do you mean ‘my wife’?”

“Y/N,” Barbara says casually. “Haven’t the two of you been married for like… three years now? Together for five?”

That gets you to pause the conversation that you’re currently participating in with Gregory and Janine and turn to face both older teachers.

“No?” Melissa states, although it sounds much more like a question.

“But you call her your wife!” Jacob cuts in, and he points his finger accusatorially.

Green eyes look to you, and there’s a hint of mischief in them. But then when she turns back to your coworkers, she realizes that they all think the two of you were being serious- Barbara Howard included. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god,” you echo softly.

“They- they really think we’re together,” Melissa nudges you. “I- Youse are… raise your hand if you thought that we were together romantically.”

Immediately, everyone’s hand goes up. Panic filled eyes look to you. “Oh my god, have we been dating, and I didn’t know it?”

You can’t help the bubble of laughter that erupts out of you as you lay a gentle hand over the redhead’s. “I mean, no, but the way we act sometimes… I see why people think that we are.”

“You two really are so… loving with each other,” Janine sighs dreamily. “It’s honestly relationship goals.”

“What do you-”

“Melissa, you call her your wife!” Barbara exclaims with gusto. “It would make sense for us to assume that the two of you are married!”

“Barb, if I got married while we worked here, you damn well know that you would’ve been invited to the wedding… probably would’ve been my matron of honor,” the redhead deadpans.

The kindergarten teacher takes that information, clearly touched, before nodding. “I suppose that would make sense.”

“So we all lost the bet,” Ava sighs heavily.

“A bet?” you raise a brow at the principal.

Melissa whips around to look at the boss, who looks as uninterested as ever as she files her nails.

“The bet that we all made about how long the two of you have actually been together,” Mr. Johnson states from the corner of the staff room. “No one bet that you weren’t actually together.”

“So what are we supposed to do with the-”

“Barbara,” Melissa admonishes. “You bet on my love life?”

The eldest teacher just shrugs innocently. “I thought it was a slam dunk, as the kids would say.”

“Donate the money to the school,” you roll your eyes as you begin to pack up your lunch. “I have to prep my science lesson, so I’ll see you guys later.” You gently pat Melissa’s shoulder as you thank her for lunch quietly, and head out.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the redhead grumbles as she too begins to pack up her lunch. “I’m gonna go help my wi- my friend.”

“You was gonna say wife, girl!” Ava calls as Melissa leaves the room. “Just admit it so I can win my money!” 

Neither of you say anything in terms of the conversation that had taken place at lunch- not at work, at least. And you both end up throwing yourselves into work- not bothering to look at your phones throughout the afternoon. Had you, the two of you would see an abundance of apologies from your fellow staff members. Well, every staff member aside from your boss. Ava is asking both of you to lie for her to be able to win the bet; apparently she had a lot riding on it. 

The only time that either of you speak of it is once you’re in the comfort of her car. You hazard a glance at your phone, as does Melissa.

“Oh Jesus,” your roommate groans. She sees the face that you’re making as you stare at your phone. “They texted you too?”

You nod. “You got Ava’s text?”

“I’ll yell at her tomorrow,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she sets her phone down and pulls the car out of the lot.

Instinctively, the woman driving the car lays her hand gently over the gear shift, and your hand rests over top of it. And then you sigh softly.

But still, neither of you speak of what’s on your mind in regard to the situation.

Your evening plans go as they usually do. It’s only when you curl up on the couch together, not having any work to catch up on, that you know you have to talk to her about what’s going through your head.

“Lis?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think… I don’t know. I think maybe we should talk about what happened at work today,” you bite the bullet.

“Probably,” the redhead next to you sighs softly.

“What do you think about the situation?”

Your roommate bites her lip as she thinks. “I- I mean, we are practically married anyway.” You just nod silently and urge her to go on. “If we did get married…” You feel your heart flutter. Is this the moment that she’s going to tell you that she is in love with you? 

“… we would get a nice tax break.”

You do everything you can to not let it show how you feel about that proposal. “Uh, yeah. We could do that. We’re essentially in a common law marriage at this point anyway.”

“But I also…” the redhead continues to worry her lip through her teeth. “I guess I have been thinking about what they were saying.”

“What do you mean?” you prompt.

Green eyes turn soft as they look into your own. “I think that maybe… in all of the ebbs and flows of life, jokingly calling you my wife, it- it stopped becoming a joke.”

Your heart begins to beat faster. It’s now or never. “For me too.”

A brow raises. “What?”

“It’s not a joke for me anymore either,” you whisper. “Somewhere along the line, I really did fall for you.”

“Have we been dating for the last five years without knowing it?” Melissa asks you as she gently cups your cheek.

“I think so,” you chuckle.

And then, just like in the movies, the woman of your dreams leans in slowly and her lips meet yours for the first time.

When you pull away, your eyes shimmer with happy tears. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Me too, hun,” Melissa whispers as she pulls you back in again.

It’s later that night, once the two of you have truly spoken about how you want to go about this new relationship that you’ve found yourselves in.

“So, if we’ve been unintentionally dating for the last five years, how would you really feel about getting married? Not just for the tax break,” Melissa asks you. “Although, that would be nice.”

You just roll your eyes. “Melissa Schemmenti, are you proposing to me right now?”

“Do you want me to?”

And so, the next day, the two of you make your way down to City Hall to file for a marriage license before heading into Abbott to work your half day. During your prep period, the two of you search for wedding bands on Amazon to be delivered in time for Saturday when you’ll officially be wed.

On Friday, you and your fiancee request that Barbara come to Melissa’s room at the end of the day. Of course, she complies.

“What’s this about?” the kindergarten teacher asks.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” you ask your coworker.

“Why? What’s happening tomorrow?”

“We were hoping you would come be the witness at our wedding,” Melissa states casually.

Brown eyes are blown as wide as saucers. “I- Oh! Oh my goodness! Are you serious?”

“You know I wouldn’t joke about a nice tax break,” the redhead smirks.

“Still don’t like that joke,” you roll your eyes as you lean over, a hand resting on Melissa’s shoulder as you kiss her cheek.

“So the two of you have been together!”

“No,” you laugh. “We only got together Tuesday after we both realized that maybe calling each other our ‘wife’ wasn’t a joke anymore.”

“An’ if we’ve been dating for the last five years, we might as well get married,” Melissa smiles.

“And catch that tax break,” you chuckle.

Your fiancee glares at you playfully. “I thought you hate that joke.”

“Only when you make it,” you reply sweetly before turning back to Barbara. “So, can you come?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” your beloved coworker promises you.

On Monday, you wait for your entire work family to make their way into the staff lounge.

“So,” you sigh as you glance to your boss.

“What the hell could you want on a Monday morning?” Ava groans.

“Not much,” you chuckle, your left hand still stuffed in your Eagles sweatshirt. “Just going to need a sign change.”

“A sign change?”

“The sign outside my door with my name on it. I’m gonna need it changed.”

“To?” the principal rolls her eyes, not yet putting it together.

“Mrs. Schemmenti,” you say innocently as you hold up your left hand. Your now wife does the same.

Both you and Melissa look around the room anticipating your coworkers’ reactions. And they’re exactly what you expect- it’s hilarious. And as the excitement of this news dies down, Jacob raises his hand to ask a question.

“You don’ need to raise your hand, Hill,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “What?”

“So who won the bet?”

“Yeah!” Mr. Johnson exclaims.

“Still no one,” you run a hand over your face.

“There ain’t no way the two of you haven’t been hiding this for years,” Ava tells you.

“We haven’t been,” Melissa tells the group. “Ask Barb.”

All eyes turn to the kindergarten teacher quietly sipping her coffee. “Got married on Saturday. I was there, just like Melissa said I would be.”

“See?”

“But,” Barbara holds a hand up. “While I was incorrect about the amount of time they’ve been married, I am the only one that said they were together for five years.”

“We haven’t been together for five years,” you furrow a brow.

Barb shrugs. “You both told me that the two of you have been essentially dating for the last five years.”

“Barbara.”

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @schmentisgf

[oikarma]

number one girl

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: the story of ynmax is a very, very heated topic riddled with holes and chock full of conspiracies: a couple and split to rival brocedes. it's mostly an a f1 thing, though, until you release an album and the internet tries to deduce what ruined a decades-long friendship.

a/n: angst warning. bear with me, you're in for a long ride. we go from twitter to insta to reddit to sdfsd. this was SO FUN!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

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liked by stevienicks, georgerussell63 and 3,104,827 others

yourinstagram: "number one girl" out now.

view all 411,295 comments

user1: mother??? music???

user2: our multitalented baby <3

stevienicks: so proud of you ❤️

yourinstagram: so thankful for you 🥺 your support is immeasurable in worth

user3: max verstappen did you-

user4: george listening to this so he can justify bullying max next season

user5: please 💀 i choked on my water reading that

user6: CHARLES IN THE CREDITS FOR PIANO?? how many side quests has this girl roped people into

user7: they're still good friends lol just cause she and max stopped speaking doesn't mean she's not close w the rest of the grid user8: @/user7 right! she and alex have also posted each other quite a bit after the rhode collab

user9: is no one talking about the lyrics 😃 gut wrenching, yes, but the way it all lines up w max??

user10: no babe dw we're all talking about the lyrics user11: my roman empire...

user12: who's this max guy and what does he have to do with my queen y/n

user13: @/user12 he's a formula one driver, they ued to be best friends user12: @/user13 like nascar? omg what i only knew that she debuted in shadow n bone but WHAT IS THIS

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A PAGE FROM Y/N's JOURNAL November 15, 2021

Max is a plane right now to see Kelly. I feel like I've been punched, three times over. The nausea is getting to me.

How could you? Just say all those things, like you always do. Do you mean any of them? When you say "I love you, more than anyone in this life." When you say "You're worth it, really. "When you say "forever." Does anyone ever really mean forever? Forever is part of the foreseeable future. You cannot capture what is beyond that.

You were my life. The words, every moment. An inescapable reminder.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by charles_leclerc, brunomars and 2,819,305 others

yourinstagram: "toxic till the end (ft. lewis hamilton)" is up on youtube and all music platforms ♡

view all 309,418 comments

user1: what. the. fuck.

user2: is she dating lewis? what? y/n girl please stop being cryptic my head can't take all of this 😭

user3: if this is part of the press tour i must say i am now extremely invested in the ynmax drama and i didn't even know who max was until i saw a thread on number one girl...

lewishamilton: Best of luck with your future endeavors, Y/N 🫂 Will be by your side!

yourinstagram: you better be 🫰 user4: the friendship we didn't know we needed

user5: lewis with...pink hair...

user6: max emilian verstappen fumbled so hard

user7: imagine ghosting THE y/n l/n and then she drops this

user8: well, 4 years later but yeah user9: what even is a wdc...

user10: what does the heart mean y/n

user11: bro

user12: so i guess the harry styles dating rumors were all fake 😔 but omg lewis music!!

kellypiquet: Face and voice of an angel 😽

yourinstagram: me? please, pregnancy glow has been treating you good 💕 user13: at least they don't have any hard feelings...

user14: bruno in the likes is the most random thing ever

user15: acting career, check. singing career, check. formula one side quests??? multple checks

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liked by kellypiquet and 4,103,697 others

lewishamilton: Behind the scenes of Miss Y/N's "toxic till the end" music video

tagged: yourinstagram

yourinstagram: looking good there, lew

lewishamilton: Very kind of you to say user1: trust me we are witnessing the start of a great romance

user2: i don't want to delulu too hard but PLEASE tell me y/n's moved on with lewis it would be the ultimate baddie move

user3: imagine...you won abu dhabi but you lost the love of your life to the guy you beat 🤪 user4: we're all insane but i'm just going to keep dreaming

charles_leclerc: Why am I not in your dump?

yourinstagram: face card wasn't lethal enough user5: she's brutal 💀 user6: our charles's facecard could start wars idk what she's on

user7: daddy please give me ONE chance

user8: give me some of that maranello?? he looks so good oml

user9: focusing on music videos and not racing...no wonder he's washed

user10: @/user9 can you stfu and touch grass user11: @/user9 literally no one asked

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AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX November 2021

Dear Hey, Y/N.

I realized you blocked me. It hurts. I don't know what to say or what to believe anymore. I miss us. Overstepping was the wrong choice, if you must, but going back is not impossible.

We've been friends for so long. Why can't you won't you try?

I miss you.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

r/Fauxmoi · 1 day ago hamilton7xc

Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N's infamous split explained?

feralonsos: So she's been pretending he led her on when she lead him on

parking23: I don't know anymore. I know nothing. Don't even talk to me.

forzamcqueen: I want to say it's not about YNMax but 21 (as in 21, when they split?) and Y/N has been coming out with music recently. When you look at the "number one girl" lyrics from Boy's perspective it lines up with this submission. That Max wanted reassurance from Y/N and she gave it to him, but she couldn't give him everything he needed.

↳ roses_berg: @/forzamcqueen I don't know...it seems kind of unlikely. Y/N has a lyric about "chasing the prize" or something like that. What prize would she be chasing? On the other hand, you have Max who has clearly said racing is his passion and he loves winning.

↳ forzamcqueen: @/roses_berg I see where you're coming from but there are a few interpretations. Toxic Till the End suggests she thought his attachment to her was maybe unhealthy, and he kept trying to find ways to keep her by his side. Y/N has mentioned in past interviews (promo for her role in Shadow and Bone, when she was starting to do acting) that she's had bad experience with past relationships and is hesitant on starting a new one.

↳ januaryblues11: @/forzamcqueen Sorry, what interview? Could you link it?

↳ forzamcqueen: @/januaryblues11 No worries, I put it down below. The part I'm referring to is around 5:41.

↳ WolffHornerFan: @/forzamcqueen Okay, okay. I need a timeline then. She must've started filming Shadow and Bone in Oct 2019, then wrapped 4 months later in Feb 2020. This might be the "prize" she's chasing? Her own career. Before it was announced that she was in the series most news referred to her as "close friend" or "best friend" of Max Verstappen. Now a lot of people know her for S&B or Top Gun Maverick, etc.

↳ CautiousOwl: Might've not wanted her relationship to overshadow her career. It's understandable, if she wanted to be taken seriously instead of a "nepo friend."

↳ 4norrisop: She's amazing in Shadow and Bone! Definitely recommend checking that out, but I don't understand why she ghosted him.

↳ ynluv07: @/4norrisop he was dating kelly at the time. she might've thought it was a bad idea after it happened (i'm referring to the kiss, which i assume happened because she explicitly refers to it a few times in "number one girl") and distanced herself. maybe she told him it wasn't okay?

↳ ICEMAN_bwoah: Brain hurts.

↳ brooksies: Well if she did give up her happiness because she thought Kelly deserved better, that's great. No wonder they're still on good terms.

↳ DauntingParrot91: @/brooksies Yeah, sure...

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AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX January 2022

Y/N, I'm sorry I asked for too much; I'm sorry I pushed you. I'll take my bags and go quietly, this time. Maybe you'll open the door again someday. I love you too, my best friend always.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lewishamilton, taylorswift and 4,103,269 others

yourinstagram: Burnout.

comments on this post have been limited

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM Y/N February 2022

Wish you'd take a little longer to pack up your bags. You're moving too fast. Make me want to hate you more than I hate myself, so I don't have to miss you. Make a mistake, please. So I have someone to blame.

Please, won't you stay a little longer? I would call you babe, just to make you smile. I wouldn't mean it that way, but I still love you. You're my best friend. Why wasn't that enough?

I'll be okay, sometime. You say it's written all over my face, and I wonder, what is? I'm fragile, now. I'm speechless, now. Don't leave me in pieces. I'm sorry, let me fix it. It won't be good for us, but oh-how I want to.

I'm already having trouble breathing. Please, stay a little longer. I can't stand these four walls without you inside them.

Come back, be here.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by kellypiquet and 1,249,805 others

maxverstappen: She stayed a little longer 🖤

tagged: kellypiquet

view all 91,432 comments

user1: GUYS HE DEF HEARD THE SONG

user2: do we think kelly asked him to post it

user3: tbf given on how sweet her n yns interactions are i wouldn't be surprised if she listened to burnout

user4: kelly. you are the strongest woman i know

user5: so i can convince you the minute i kiss you speak a little softer so i don't have to answer and make it okay before you can say

user6: i just know he had a little breakdown inside after he heard the album

user7: max rn: CHARLES HOW COULD YOU PLAY PIANO FOR HER

user8: max: alexa play that should be me user9: ho-olding your handdd

user10: who are we blaming today

user11: at least max is finally someone's number one girl

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX Summer 2024

Sometimes I look to the television and you're on, flying a plane or wielding magic, whatever it is you do these days. I knew you could act. I knew you'd make it far. I hear you were nominated for a Golden Globe, too.

I was mad for a long time. I was upset you kicked me out of your life so abruptly.

Kelly's expecting. I think she will be as good a mother to our child as she is to little P. A family is what I have always wanted, you know. It was not what you wanted.

I am sorry. I have said that many times, but one day I will need to say it to your face. I am truly, irrevocably sorry for all the hurt I caused you, in the name of love.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

r/PopCultureChat · 1 day ago forzamcqueen

"Burnout" by Y/N L/N

How do we feel about the release of the full album? Moreover, how do we think it fits into the YNMax narrative? I, for one, have been listening non-stop trying to figure out the story.

lec_clerc16: I think it's funny how many people have gotten into F1 because of her music. Lol.

↳ NaturalOtter5: Well Lewis & Charles were on it so I would say the F1 community is pretty interested in the tea aswell.

↳ lec_clerc16: @/NaturalOtter5 Right, but YNMax is old drama. Sure, someone's posting in r/F1 every other week about an old photo or new quote. It's still been around for a while. This is fresh meat 😋

jennyowens1342: such a player...LOL who is gameboy about atp

↳ sassybanana: TBF Y/N's dating life has been a lot more quiet than Max's. There have been rumors but she hasn't hard launched anything. Maybe the one public "relationship" was enough for her.

museapollo: the more i listen the more convinced i am that y/n did not want the relationship as max did and decided it was best for them to stop being friends. the whole album is about a codependent relationship and the two people can't deal with leaving but they know it's better for both.

↳ janitorsclosetmonster: yess!! that's what i've been saying. we can't blame y/n for everything, it must've been confusing for her as well. having to navigate everything. idt she'd dated anyone at that point. max was her only close friend.

↳ EggplantParmesan713: But did max cheat...that's the real question. When did THE kiss happen? And who started it?

↳ museapollo: @/EggplantParmesan713 idk. i can't figure if she actually loved him (romantically) bcs it's clear he did but her side is a bit more hazy. you have: 1. "i just WANT it to be you" - it's not actually him she loves but she desperately wants it to be him 2. "cause even when i said it was over / you heard baby can you pull me in closer" - she's telling him it won't work out but he's not listening. 3. "please, won't you stay, stay a little a little longer, babe?" - she pauses before babe, like it's her trying to convince him to stay. mb she thought it was best to distance herself/end the friendship for a bit but she still loves him a lot because they've been friends for so long

↳ forzamcqueen: @/museapollo The best explanation I have heard so far. You can't force someone to love you the way you do. At least they've matured and moved on.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

January 2025

Dear Max:

Congratulations. I'm sure you will be a wonderful father, as I have always guessed. 2024 was a great year for you. I watched all a few of your races; you've still got it.

I'm putting out an album soon. I thought you should know. I already had a talk with Kelly, she's listened to some snippets and she likes it a lot. Some of the writing is about you the things I never said.

It was wonderful being your best friend. We had a good run, better than most.

Missing you Wish you the best, Y/N L/N

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

February 2025

Dear Y/N:

Occasionally, I think of all that could have been.

But we had many years together, and I will always cherish those moments.

Kelly loves the album, she puts it on while she cooks or does her makeup. P sings along in the car. She says she wants to go out for a tea party with you sometime. I listen to it even when they're out of the voice, for a reminder of your voice. You've made quite a name for yourself. I'm sorry I couldn't be there by your side.

Thank you for writing it. There are some things that you have to hear once, just for yourself.

Love Always Yours, Max Verstappen

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

what did you think?? i might do a part 2 of yn & max talking for the first time in forever but i wanna know if you guys liked this one first LOL

[miange1]

donnie darko slightly pushing male reader into having their first time together?!? manipulating him until he craves it just as bad as him now

DONNIE DARKO

male reader, bottom reader, reader isn't a virgin he just hasn't had peen up his booty, manipulation, say gex, sum like that, nervousness, donnie doesn't know what he's doing either, anal sex, rough but soft, linkin park is so yummy, donnie is addicted to sex, persuading with actions rather than words, donnie does NOT know how to fuck but figures it out later

he was nervous, fidgeting the whole day and glancing at you much more often. he felt some sort of weight on his shoulders, he just needed to get it off and if he never told you what was the matter it would never happen would it?

"donnie." you looked over at him, your finger pressing at the TV remote to turn it down. "hm." he looked over at you, eyes roaming over your body by instinct. "don't 'hm' me. you've been creeping the shit outta me all day? you alright?"

he opened his mouth to say yes, but then closed it up again, changing his mind. he got closer to you, bed dipping in the area near you and his hand resting on your leg.

"you ever..fuck before?" you giggled a bit, mostly confused but amused as well. "yeah? of course ive–" he cut you off, "no, i mean." he moved himself closer towards you,

"have you been fucked before, like by another guy?" your heart started to speed up, your body tensing and it felt like it was getting hotter.

"..no?" donnies hands went to your legs, moving towards your thighs and squeezing them a bit. "do you want to?" he was expecting a yes, but he frowned seeing your head shake and your legs move towards your chest.

"donnie," your eyes looked like they were pitying him, looking at him as if he was in the wrong. but he wasn't? "why? why don't you want to— we're together so we have to!" his mind worked differently, and you knew that. he always wanted to get to the 'good stuff', and as messed up as it sounded he still loved you.

"please, i promise.." he went close to you again, hands pulling your ankles and spreading your legs. "it'll feel really good," he's never fucked another guy before, and most likely has never had sex before but he just needed to persuade you somehow.

"donnie, no. my answer is no." your words cut off with your own giggle as he kissed at your face multiple times, making you tell him that it tickled a bit.

then his lips would go lower, slowing his pace down as he kissed at your neck and making them more open mouthed to leave a mark.

"hey..hey, donnie—" you squirmed, hands to his chest to push him away but you just ended up gripping his shirt and wanting more "hm." his fingers went up your shirt, grazing your nipples having your body arch into his touch and whimper into his ear.

"stop..donnie," his pointer and middle finger squeezed the bud, your legs tightened around his hips as he did so. "can't..i can't.." he sounded just as desperate as you, moving his hands back down to your shirt to take it off and toss it some other place.

he let his body get on top of you more, your body sliding down all the way underneath him. he looked at you for a moment, taking it all in. this was really happening

his pace was slow at first, it hurt to him too because he didn't really know he had to use some sort of lubrication. as he had gotten used to it, he completely forgot to think about you.

he was thinking about you, but also wasn't.

"donnie..donnie— donnie!" he could hear you calling out his name, saw your fingers grip at the sheets for dear life as if you were gonna fall off the bed even though he had you by your waist.

"slow...down, oh god it hurts.." but it felt so good, the tears that went down your cheeks were tears of pleasure and your hole would twitch and clench around him and each time he felt it he just couldn't help but go faster and harder.

the headboard hit against the wall, and you prayed that no one was home to hear this because nothing was silent especially you. "feels so good..do you feel good? tell me it feels good." your head nodded, burrying yourself into the pillow cover.

"so good..donnie, don't stop." your words were becoming slurred, turning into mindless jumbles and moans. for a guy who's probably never even fucked a girl, shit he was real good.

it had you wondering how many times he must have thought of what he wanted to do to you.

"don't stop?" your pupils moved to the side, giving donnie a look. "okay.." he flipped you over back onto your back, wiping his forehead from the sweat that dripped.

"i won't stop, i promise." oh, of course he'd take that shit literally.

[babydollslibrary]

QUESTION…? — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

published: February 4th, 2023

summary: in which Quinn and sunshiny good girl, y/n, have harbored feelings for each other for a while. but when they finally hookup, Quinn leaves in the middle of the night and let’s y/n believe maybe it was just a one night fling.

specific lyrics: “good girl, sad boy.” and “did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room and every single one of your friends was making fun of you but fifteen seconds later they were clapping too? then what did you do? did you leave her house in the middle of the night?”

warnings: kinda steamy but no NSFW. profanity.

not my gif

contrary to popular belief, i’m not oblivious to the irony of Quinn Hughes and i being best friends. the optimistic, always happy, constantly smiling hopeless romantic being best friends with the pessimistic, always looks miserable, rarely smiling hockey player? yeah, it’s baffled our other friends for years.

but when asked, i can’t really explain it. Quinn and i just click. we know what makes the other happy, or sad, or angry. it’s easy for us to be around each other. and we’re understanding of each other. i don’t push him to talk, and he’s one of the rare few who will just sit and listen to me ramble without asking me to shut up. as like all best friends we’re really close. we like to think we have no secrets. that we tell each other everything.

but, i have one.

i’m in love with my best friend.

i never meant for it to happen. when we became friends, i was actually glad to finally meet a guy that just wanted to be friends. no underlying motives, no moves being pulled. just friends. but eventually my feelings changed. it wasn’t all at once, like i read about in my romance novels. no. the changes were gradual. it started slowly, with me seeking him out more than my other friends. then it turned into getting butterflies in my stomach when we touched, no matter if we were holding hands, linked arms, or if i was just sitting close enough to him on the couch that our thighs touched. at first i chalked it up to him just being my best friend, but then the dreams started happening. dreams where he and i were dating. and eventually sleeping dreams turned into daydreams. and then i finally realized my true feelings. i’m in love with my best friend.

i’ve spent the better half of our four year friendship hiding my feelings from him, too scared that confessing might ruin our friendship. he’s never given me any reason to assume that he feels the same way, so i keep my feelings locked in a box in the back of my mind, only let free when i’m alone and daydreaming about what life would be like if we were more than friends.

i’ve since then gone on several dates with numerous guys, trying to find someone who makes me feel the way Quinn does, but it’s been a moot effort. every guy has been missing the spark that i feel between Quinn and i. and i always end up back to the beginning, spending my nights hanging out with my best friend and just hoping i’m strong enough not to spill my secret.

which brings us to now, where i’m mentally screaming over how good Quinn looks in his white button down shirt and black dress pants. it’s new year’s eve, and most of the Canucks team, their partners, and a few friends are lounged around Elias’s house. with five minutes until the new year, i’m sat on the couch clutching a glass of champagne, my sixth of the night, and animatedly chatting with Quinn, who looks like he would rather be anywhere else. but i’ve learned by now that that’s just his resting facial expression.

“alcohol makes you chatty, doesn’t it y/n?” Elias laughs from his spot in the chair a few feet away from us. i stop talking, letting out a weak chuckle. it’s not like i’m unused to comments like that, i’m often told that i talk a lot, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little.

“it does. but i like it. i like listening to her talk.” Quinn defends. my heart flutters in my chest at his words. a blush coating my cheeks. “now back to what you were saying, y/n.”

i blink a few times, just staring at my best friend in front of me before i begin to speak.

“oh. i was just saying that i think my parents want me to visit soon. but i was done speaking.” i shrug.

“no, you weren’t.” Quinn’s brows furrow and he wears a scowl. “you were still talking.”

“well, i was about done anyways. but i can keep talking.” Quinn’s lips quirk in a half smile and he nods for me to continue. “well, i do think the concept of new years is pretty weird. and some of the traditions that people have are weird as well. like-”

i’m cut off by the simultaneous chants of the people surrounding us. counting down from ten. i smile and my face lights up. i love this part of the holiday.

“SEVEN! SIX! FIVE!” i sigh as i watch couples pair off, ready to kiss their other half a happy new year, a longing look in my eye. i feel Quinn shift beside me, his thigh pressing closer into mine. but my eyes are locked on my friends all smiling at their significant others, so happy and in love. i want that.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” i’m snapped out of my thoughts by a hand grasping my chin. my face is turned and i’m able to catch a quick glimpse of Quinn’s eyes before my lips are covered by his. his hands move to cup my face, his lips moving over mine. it takes me a second of hesitation to realize what’s happening and my heart speeds up. i snap out of my trance in time to move my lips, locking us into a slow and passionate kiss.

“GO HUGGY! FINALLY!” i hear someone yell and everyone laughs, cracking jokes about how long it took for us to kiss. Quinn pulls back to lock eyes with me, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. he gives me a small smile before leaning in and capturing my lips with his once more. our friends start clapping and i smile into the kiss, making him pull away once again. this time he pulls away completely, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to him.

what did that mean? does he like me the way that i like him? or was it just a midnight kiss between friends? is this gonna change anything, or are we just going to move past this like it didn’t happen? does he realize how much this means to me? my head is swarmed with questions that i may never know the answers to.

i stay glued to his hip for the rest of the night, my head still reeling from the kiss. not long after midnight, everyone starts to head home, and i follow Quinn out to his car so he can give me a ride. he opens the passenger seat for me, helping me in before shutting it and jogging around the front of the car, slipping into the drivers seat. the drive is unusually quiet, my usual chattiness drifted away after our kiss. instead i’m stuck inside my own mind, still wondering what it meant. when he pulls up and parks in a spot outside my apartment complex, he turns to look at me, and i manage a smile.

“you okay?” he asks. “you’ve been quiet.”

“yeah, i’m fine. just figured i’d give you a reprieve.” i joke. his expression tells me he didn’t appreciate my attempt.

“don’t do that.” he says.

“do what?”

“don’t let what Elias said get into your head. i love that you never stop talking. i like seeing you happy.”

okay he needs to stop talking before i do something monumentally stupid. like kiss him again.

“don’t worry, Quinny. i’m not gonna go silent on you. i was just joking.” i smile. “who else can i talk about all my star wars theories with, without them calling me a nerd?”

he laughs and unbuckles his seatbelt.

“you wanna come in and drink some wine while i tell you about how i think Palpatine is actually Anakin’s father?” i ask, and he nods.

“what else would i do?” he jokes sarcastically.

we get out of the car and Quinn leads the way up to my apartment, having been here hundreds of times in the past four years. i unlock my door and call out to my cat that i’m home. within seconds she comes around the corner, and Quinn scoops her up in his arms, cradling her like a baby. i listen to him coo at her as i grab a bottle of wine off my kitchen counter and pour two glasses.

within a few minutes, Quinn and i are sat on my bed, drinking our wine as i lay my feet in his lap and talk to him about my theory. Quinn listens intently, as if he hasn’t already heard it a million times, and absentmindedly lays his hand on my ankle, sending a spark up my leg.

“anyways, enough about that.” i finish. “how’s your mom? i heard you on the phone with her earlier. I miss Ellen.”

he smiles, a rare genuine grin at the mention of his family.

“she’s good.” he nods. “she misses you too. keeps telling me to bring you to the lake house this summer.”

“we’ll if that’s your way of offering, then i accept.” i tell him before joking- “i miss my favorite Hughes brother.”

“there’s no way that Luke is your favorite. i call bullshit.”

“you call bullshit every time i say it, but i still remain adamant. he’s the sweetest.” i tease. “he told me last summer that if i ever decide that i like younger guys, he’ll take me out. maybe i’ll finally take him up on that offer.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow, tickling the inside of my ankles as he speaks.

“oh please. he wouldn’t know how to handle you.”

i bark out a laugh and nudge his thigh with my foot.

“and just what is that supposed to mean?” i ask.

“it means that whatever man you finally decide is good enough for you, needs to appreciate you. he needs to love how much you like to speak, and your hopeless romantic side. he needs to appreciate that you always look on the bright side of things, and find a silver lining in everything. he needs to remember that you’re a sunrise person, preferring the beginning of a new day rather than the end, so you prefer your dates as brunch or picnics or going to a museum rather than dinner or a movie. and Luke is not that guy.”

my heart melts at his words. the fact that he knows these things about me and believes that i deserve to find someone who won’t make me compromise those parts of myself.

and there i go, doing something monumentally stupid, because before i can take a second to think before i react, i lean over and press my mouth to his. his lips lock with mine, moving slowly. i open my mouth, letting his tongue roam freely over mine. Quinn grasps my hips, pulling me in closer so that i’m straddled over his lap, and i roll my hips, lightly grinding down onto him, making him let out a groan.

he tastes like red wine and mint, an odd combination, but not a bad one. his hands slip under my top, skimming my bare skin as he settles them at my waist and pulls me closer. my chest is flush against his now, every breath i take making my nipples brush against his chest, sending pleasure driven shivers down my body, straight to my core.

“please.” i whisper against his lips.

“please what, y/n?” his voice is raspy, laced with lust and seduction.

“please Quinn. please fuck me.” i whimper as he pulls me down to roll over his quickly hardening length.

“whatever you want, baby.”

**

my eyes squint against the light coming in from my bedroom windows as i finally come to. it takes me a couple seconds to remember why i’m naked. and when the memories of the night before flash in my mind, i smile, rolling over in my bed to face Quinn. but his spot is empty. i reach over to feel cold sheets. he’s been gone awhile.

when did he leave? why did he leave?

tears prick at the back of my eyes, but i blink them away. he could just be in the kitchen. rising from my bed, i throw on an oversized t-shirt and some underwear as i glance around my room. his clothes are gone, the only ones left scattered on my floor being my own, sending another sinking feeling in my gut.

i leave my room, walking to my kitchen only for it to be empty. i check my bathroom, my living room, and my guest room, only for all of them to come up empty as well.

he left.

i finally let my tears fall, collapsing on my couch. i thought maybe he liked me, but was last night just an easy fuck for him? did he not want me in the way that i want him? in a relationship sense?

**

it’s been four days since Quinn and i slept together, and we haven’t spoken or seen each other in those days. it’s not unusual for us to not talk or see each other for a few days, but after our night together, i wasn’t expecting the complete silence. i told myself i would confront him the next time i see him, but the thought makes me anxious.

with the Canucks having two nights off in a row, a lot of them are going out to a bar, and as a close friend of the team, i was invited. Andrei didn’t tell me who all is coming though, so as i walk into the bar right now, i worry over the possibility of being confronted with Quinn.

my eyes roam the bar, searching for my friends, and when i finally spot them, i feel both relieved and anxious. i don’t see Quinn. i make my way over to them, giving hugs and fist bumps as i say my hello’s.

“i’m gonna go order a drink.” i let them know, but as i turn around, i see Quinn, who seems to be returning from the restroom. we lock eyes and he veers course, coming to a stop in front of me.

“hey.” he greets me, pulling me into a quick hug. my arms stay glued to my sides.

“hey.” i say weakly. before i can lose my confidence i speak again. “can we talk?”

Quinn nods and tips his head over towards an empty booth across the room. i lead the way over to it, taking a seat on one side while he takes the seat across from me.

“what’s up?” he asks, and i take a second to study his expressionless face. does he really not know what this is about?

“can i ask you a question?” i ask.

“yeah, of course.” he replies. he lifts the hat off his head and sweeps a hand through his hair before replacing the hat. i swallow the lump in my throat and take a deep breath.

“why did you leave?” i manage to get out.

“what?”

“that night. why did you leave? i woke up the next morning and you were gone.” i explain. he opens his mouth but i continue speaking. “i just need to know. did it mean nothing to you? because that night meant everything to me. and i was under the impression that it may have meant something to you, but then you left without even saying goodbye and it made me feel…cheap. so i just want you to be honest with me Quinn, did it? mean anything to you?”

Quinn’s nostrils flare and he winces, as if my words were hard for him to hear.

“of course. it meant so much to me, y/n. but it all happened so fast and right after i said those nice things. so, i laid awake overthinking. and i got it into my head that maybe you were just overwhelmed with what i had said and acted on impulse. that maybe it was just one night for you. and i could take that, so i left. i thought maybe that’s what you wanted me to do.” his voice is soft, barely audible over the commotion of the bar, and his words only make me more upset.

“so you didn’t think to talk to me? you just left?” my words are sharp, my tone incredulous. “if you would’ve talked to me then you would’ve known that i really like you, Quinn. i’ve been in love with you for two years. i wanted that night to happen. it wasn’t just a night for me. was the decision impulsive? maybe. but i thought about that happening between us for years. i wanted it. i want you. not just for one night, but forever.”

his hand snakes across the table, clasping my own.

“i want you too. forever. god, y/n, i’ve been in love with you since i met you. but i knew how much you’d been through with past relationships and i didn’t want to push you. and then when i thought enough time had passed, i didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so i took you in any way i could have you. if that was just as your best friend, then so be it. but i don’t want to be your best friend anymore, y/n/n.”

my head reels with his words, thinking back over them. wait what?

“what?” i whisper, my voice shaky.

“if you can forgive me for being an idiot and jumping to conclusions, i’d really like to be your boyfriend.”

my heart races, and i look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity.

“i’d really like that. but you can’t leave me like that again, Quinn.”

“i don’t think i ever want to leave you again.” he tells me. he stands, taking my hand in his and pulling me up so hard that i crash into his chest. he wraps his arms around my waist, leaning down and letting his lips graze mine, smiling. “my mom is gonna freak when i tell her we’re finally dating.”

my head drops back in a laugh before i tease-

“oh no, how am i gonna break this to Luke?”

[arkhamsbrat]

❦— jason todd x civilian! reader

in which jason is totally not planning on stealing you away from your shitbag of a bf

part 1 ! part 2 ! part 3 ! part 4 ! part 5 !

jason was returning the favor. at least that’s what he called beating the life out of your now ex boyfriend. (nearly) every single thing he did to you, he got back. there were a few lines jason wouldnt cross.

he stopped by the gas station on the way back, picking up a pint of ice cream and some extra snacks. telling himself it was just in case you woke up when he reentered his apartment.

when he walked in, you were curled around a blanket he doesn’t remember owning. it was probably yours. definitely not his, it looked too… soft. like you. he stood there staring for a moment. you deserved so much better than what that guy put you through. he’d make damn sure you got better.

it didn’t feel weird just watching you sleep. maybe he shouldve felt guilty, maybe even ashamed. but why did you come to him? why did you make it so easy for him to worm his way into your life? c’mon. it’s like you were asking him to do all this for you.

even in your sleep it seemed like you couldn’t catch a break. you tossed and turned restlessly. “y’poor thing..” he muttered to himself while he threw the snacks in the freezer. scared whines slipped out of you every few minutes. the thought crossed his mind to run back out to kill your ex. it’d be worth it.

instead, he decided to be selfish. to save you, again. it filled him with a strange sense of pride, seeing how you looked up at him with those glittering eyes. it’s addictive. you made jason feel like he was good.

jason put a hand on your shoulder and shook gently, whispering, “hey..” he waited a moment before your eyes flutter open. “jason? wha-” you rubbed the tears out of your eyes, body feeling heavier after waking up. “go to the bed.” he said softly, shooting you a comforting smile. asking what you were dreaming about was not a part of his current plan. for now, he’d just blame it on comfort. “y’look miserable on this damn thing. i’ll take the couch.”

you tried to argue with him. you told him that you wouldn’t kick him out of his own bed, he’s done enough for you. unfortunately for you, jason is a miserably stubborn man. he gave you a firm look and tipped his head towards the room. “you’re my guest, yeah? i want the couch. gonna be rude and tell me no?”

you stood, wrapped in your blanket, and almost started walking to his room with eyes still bleary. it didn’t feel right to ask him for so much with only so little you could give in return. but jason loved you, that was something you knew 100%. how he loved you, though, you weren’t exactly sure.

“jay?” your voice was barely a whisper. unrecognizable from your usual happy tone you always had with him. he let out a small hum. “do y’think…” the thought wouldn’t let itself come out.

a little spark of hope twitched in his chest you both stood there silently staring at each other. “think what?” his blue eyes bore into yours. in the dim light, you swore they flickered green. “i know im already askin’ a lot but, it’s been a while since ive slept…” your voice grew quiet. alone.

the spark trapped in his chest grew bigger. for a moment, he considered if finishing your thoughts for you was the right move. who was he kidding, of course it was. “y’want me to sleep with you, sweetheart?” his voice soothed any anxieties you had left. you nodded shyly.

jason crossed the room within seconds, pulling you into a tight hug. “y’aren’t asking for too much, i swear.” tears slipped from your eyes before you could realize it. it’s all been too much in one day. his hands moved from your back to cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing the tears away. “y’tell me anything you need and ill do it. dont give a fuck what it is.”

you stared into his eyes, knowing good and well he meant every word. it shouldve scared you, his level of devotion. you just couldnt find the energy in you. blind loyalty like this was welcome after everything youve gone through. so, you nodded, and let him practically carry you to his bed.

jason set you down gently, pulling the covers over you before crawling in next to you. “y’sure youre okay with this?” you nod, fiddling with the edge of your own blanket. “shouldnt i be asking you that, jayce?” he laughed softly and turned on his side to look at you. “nah, dont mind you here.”

[azurem]

It was a frequent question he had, buzzing in his ears like a particularly annoying fly. As such, he felt no shame in his question:

"Is there a reason why you drink the... blue?"

Ink glanced at him, a raised eyebrow. He turned his head to look at him, keeping within his closed fist the catalyst for the question itself. "...Hm? I thought I told you already. My emotions aren't—"

"—natural, no," Nightmare finished for him. Seeing as that wasn't enough explanation —Ink was just looking at him blankly— he said, "still. Isn't blue the color of sorrow?"

"So, what if it is?"

"I don't see why anybody would choose to feel sadness," Nightmare said. He moved closer, just enough so his thigh would brush against Ink's. "You have happiness beneath your fingertips, courage... affection. I don't see why you'd take the option of suffering through your own sadness when it's unnecessary."

"Well—" Ink looked to the side, in thought. As he looked back at him, as if sensing something in Nightmare's expression, he smiled. "—what's it to you?"

"Pardon?"

Ink kept smiling. "Why would I drink the blue when I could just not do it?"

Nightmare looked away. Even when their joining hasn't been recent, he still struggled with keeping a poker face whenever Ink smiled like that. "...Well—"

Nightmare thought about it for a second, maybe more. Naturally, his thoughts drifted to the very balance he chose to forsake. "—You can't feel happiness if there's nothing to compensate it for."

"Nope," Ink said. "Not for me. I could just feel happiness all the time, if I wanted to."

"It's a thing about contrasts, then," Nightmare said instead. He closed his eye, unwilling yet to look at him. "You can't enjoy happiness if there's nothing to compare it to."

"You're getting colder," Ink said. He tilted his head, as if to look at Nightmare better, before he took his hand, slipping something inside it. When their eyes met, he didn't make any particular expression, yet his eyes shone with the hue of someone in the middle of reading. "Think again?"

"Hm." Nightmare turned his head to look at them, accepting the offering without any particular word. By its shape, he already knew what it was. His next words were hesitant, a bit clumsy: "maybe... You drink it to look normal. People wouldn't accept someone that wouldn't feel as they did."

"Pf. C'mon, now that's just depressing," Ink said. He snorted when Nightmare just gave him an unimpressed glare, which he promptly responded with an elbow to his arm. "You're thinking about it way too hard."

"Am I, now?"

"You totally are," Ink said. "Making stuff way more complicated than necessary— you do that a lot, y'know?"

He could feel his eye twitching. "Won't you just tell me?"

"I will," Ink said. He faked a yawn. "It's rather simple, really— mhm. A simple, simple thing—"

"Which is?"

"Huh, impatient," Ink said. He winked at him when Nightmare made a huff. "Y'know. Usually people just do stuff because they feel like it."

"Because they feel like it," Nightmare echoed, feeling somewhat disappointed. Still, this didn't clear his question. "But why? Why feel sadness, when it's a feeling everyone would rather discard if the choice arose?"

"See? Thinking way too hard about it."

"Ink— I insist. Is it not about the contrast? About normalcy? Why to feel, when it's—"

"An emotion," Ink said. "You're weird, y'know?"

"You— You vex me," Nightmare said. It was like trying to do a puzzle in the dark. "Incredibly so. You choose unnecessary, undesirable things— you love to make your own life more complicated than it should."

"Then we're the same," Ink said. His hands felt twitchy, so he looked down to look at them, curious of the way they dug into the cloth of his overalls. As in echo, he commented, "I don't get it. Why insist on knowing? Isn't it enough to just... let it be?"

"A life without knowledge is nothing better than the life of an animal, you must understand it well. Though...—" Nightmare looked down at him, at the way his hands seemed confused and lost. "—Though I assume a life without emotion is nothing better than the life of a machine."

"It's not," Ink said quietly. He took a moment before he looked up again. "...Still. You're pretty much a weirdo."

"...I've been called worse," Nightmare said after a moment. It felt somewhat disgraceful to know that he wasn't speaking in deceit.

Ink smiled at him. "Y'know... I wasn't lying. I do it just because, because I like feeling blue. Even if there wasn't any yellow for me, I'd still choose to drink it every time. I'd still like it, even if it was my only emotion."

"You're lying to me," he said. Ink only kept on smiling. It was not a lie. "...Where is the beauty in sorrow?"

"Where's the beauty in joy?" Ink echoed, almost teasingly. "You're a complicated guy, Nightmare. But that's why I like when you get serious with me."

Nightmare raised an eyebrow at him as Ink's hand insisted on his own, making his phalanges close on the vial of class within. As if Nightmare would have ever let it fall.

"Tell you what," he continued, bringing his hand up to his chest as if to trace the emptiness in between the colors of his chest, as one would do with a missing tooth. "Until you find the answer to that, keep it with you. It'll be a funny story."

[grifffins]

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 2

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

summary: Y/N makes a questionable purchase, endures an evening of coven induced chaos, and shares an unexpectedly nice breakfast.

wc: 8.5k (Chapter 2/?)

a/n: i'm not entirely happy with this chap, but ngl i have way too much fun writing the coven, I’m sorry. The first half of this chapter is definitely coven heavy (because they’re chaotic and I love them), but don’t worry, towards the end is all about Lilia. again this one’s super dialogue heavy, which i'm not used to but honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to cut any of it without hating myself. Just a quick heads-up, there’s no smut yet, but this chapter does lean into some more mature themes 

Ch. 1

also on ao3

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A week had passed since the Great Flirting Incident, and while Lilia hadn’t exactly acknowledged anything outright, I could tell something had shifted. She was watching me more closely now, little glances when she thought I wasn’t looking, the occasional pause before she called me baby like she was testing the waters. But she hadn’t made a move, and if I was being honest, I wasn’t sure she ever would.

So, naturally, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

It started with a simple realisation: Lilia Calderu was a woman stuck in another century. She still used a landline, still read newspapers, and still had absolutely no concept of modern convenience. I mean, she handwrites every single appointment into an actual paper planner. Who even does that anymore?

At first, it was just a passing thought, how much easier things would be for her if she had a smartphone. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt like the perfect excuse to do something nice for her. Something that wasn’t just flirting but actually, you know, helpful.

Which is why I found myself standing in the phone store, staring at a sleek smartphone display, wondering if I was about to change her life or ruin mine.

By the following morning, Lilia was perched at the counter, lazily shuffling her tarot cards with that effortless grace that made my heart do embarrassing things. She glanced up as the door jingled, eyes flicking to the small shopping bag in my hand.

“What’s this?” she asked, raising a delicate brow.

I placed the bag on the counter with a triumphant grin. “It’s about time you stepped into this decade, Calderu.”

She sighed, long and suffering. “Y/n, I don’t need —”

“You do,” I interrupted, pulling out the sleek black smartphone. “This? This is a miracle. You can set appointments, track orders, and get this, stop living in the dark ages.”

Lilia stared at the device like it might bite her. “I like my dark ages.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, humour me. Think of it as an investment. For the shop.”

She exhaled dramatically but took the phone, turning it over in her hands with a look of mild disdain. “It’s so... modern. ”

“That’s the point.” I grinned. “And, because I care about y—” I stumbled, suddenly feeling awkward. “—because I care about... efficiency, I already programmed it with your contacts and the shop’s schedule.”

Lilia smirked, clearly enjoying my mortification. “Very thorough, baby.”

I flushed. “Just... try it.”

She sighed but started poking at the screen, and I watched, fascinated, as her brows furrowed in concentration. “Hmph. It’s... responsive.”

“That’s what touchscreens do.”

“Fascinating.”

I grinned, feeling victorious. “You’re welcome.”

Later that night, I sat on Agatha’s couch, nursing a drink and dramatically recounting my victory to the coven.

“She took the phone,” I said, gesturing grandly. “She even said it was fascinating. This is huge.”

Jen raised a brow. “You bought her a phone?”

“Yeah.”

Alice leaned in. “Like... an actual smartphone? ”

“Yes.”

Agatha, sipping her wine, smirked. “y/n. Baby. Darling.”

“What?”

“You have to sext her.”

I choked on my drink. “ WHAT?! ”

Billy, perched on the armrest of the couch, grinned. “I second this.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

Agatha leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. “You cannot waste this opportunity.”

Alice covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God.”

Jen nodded sagely. “Listen, you’ve been pining after this woman for weeks. This is your moment.”

I gaped at them. “I bought her a phone so she could schedule tarot readings, not so I could send her—” I cut myself off, flushing furiously. “No. Not happening.”

Agatha smirked. “y/n.”

“No.”

“y/n.”

I groaned. “Guys, she doesn’t even like me like that.”

Billy scoffed. “She’s calling you baby every five minutes.”

“That’s just how she talks!”

Agatha shook her head. “Trust me, if she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t put up with your nonsense.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Jen patted my back. “Just... test the waters. Send something flirty. Nothing too intense.”

“Like what?” I mumbled into my hands.

Billy grinned. “Something like ‘Hey, Lilia. Thinking about you. And also that tarot reading you owe me.’ ”

“That’s not sexting?” I arched my brow.

Agatha shrugged. “Baby steps, y/n. Baby steps.”

Alice, ever the voice of reason, chimed in. “Or you could, you know, just use the phone for its intended purpose.”

Agatha and Billy groaned in unison.

Jen smirked. “C’mon, y/n. You flirt with everyone else like it’s your day job. Why not just send a little something spicy?”

I shook my head furiously. “Absolutely not. I refuse.”

Agatha grinned wickedly. “Then hand me your phone.”

I snatched it away, glaring. “I will murder you.”

“Fine, fine,” Agatha said, leaning back with a sigh. “But mark my words, y/n, you will crack. And when you do, I expect details.”

I groaned, sinking deeper into the couch.

This was going to be a disaster.

Another morning, another shift, I found myself watching Lilia as she tapped away at her new phone with a surprising amount of focus. She was getting the hang of it faster than I’d expected, which only made me more nervous.

“Enjoying it?” I asked casually, leaning on the counter.

She glanced up, lips quirking. “It’s... useful.”

I smirked. “Told you so.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You’re quite persistent, baby.”

I swallowed hard. Don’t read into it. Don’t read into it.

Lilia left not long after, saying something about running errands and warning me not to rearrange her “perfectly organised” bookshelves while she was gone. I rolled my eyes, but as soon as the bell above the door chimed, I let out a breath.

I was halfway through dusting the crystal ball display when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Expecting a message from one of the chaos gremlins I called friends, I pulled it out without thinking, only for my stomach to drop.

New message from Lilia Calderu:"This phone might be useful after all. You’ve made me quite... curious."

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

I could practically hear Agatha’s voice in my head.

You cannot waste this opportunity.

I didn’t respond to Lilia’s text. Not right away, at least. I told myself it was because I was busy, sorting inventory, helping customers, thinking about her like a lovesick idiot, but really, it was because I had no idea what to say.

"You’ve made me quite... curious."

What did that mean? Was she flirting? Was she just being her usual enigmatic self? Or was I reading too much into a perfectly innocent text from a woman who probably thought Wi-Fi was some kind of mystical energy?

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and spent the rest of the day pretending it didn’t exist.

Later that night, I gathered the coven at my place, pacing my living room as I relayed the situation.

“So she texted that, and I didn’t reply,” I finished, waving my phone around like it was cursed. “I just left her on read. ”

Agatha groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “y/n. y/n. ”

Billy gasped. “You ghosted her?”

“It’s not ghosting if it’s only been a few hours!” I argued. “I needed... I needed time. ”

Jen stared at me like I was the dumbest person alive. “To do what, exactly?”

“Panic!” I exclaimed, throwing myself onto the couch. “You don’t understand! I can flirt with anyone, anyone, but it’s Lilia. She’s... Lilia. ”

Alice, sitting beside me, patted my knee with sympathy. “We know, y/n. But if you don’t reply soon, you’re going to look weird.”

Agatha sat forward, pointing at me with a knowing smirk. “You need to sext her.”

“No!” I practically shouted, scrambling to sit up. “We are not sexting!”

Billy grinned. “You cannot miss this opportunity.”

Jen crossed her arms. “y/n. Babe. If you don’t flirt back, she’s going to think you’re not interested.”

I groaned. “I am interested. I’m just not... ready to send the big guns. ”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll start small. What’s something flirty but not too flirty?”

Billy snapped his fingers. “Tell her you were thinking about her.”

I stared. “I’m not texting that.”

Alice suggested gently, “Maybe something like... ‘What exactly are you curious about?’”

Jen nodded approvingly. “Oh, that’s good. Leaves it open-ended.”

Agatha smirked. “And suggestive.”

I pointed at Alice. “I like that one. Safe. Respectable.”

Billy huffed. “Boring.”

I took a deep breath, typing it out slowly.

Me: What exactly are you curious about?

I stared at the screen, hovering over the send button. “Okay, I sent it. Wait, no, I can’t.” I threw my phone to Alice. “You send it.”

Alice sighed but hit send. “Done.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate this. This is awful. Why do people do this?”

Agatha snickered. “Because it’s fun.”

A moment later, my phone buzzed, and the entire group froze.

Billy’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, she replied already?”

I snatched my phone, heart pounding.

Lilia: You, mostly.

Silence.

Then chaos.

I just stared at the screen in pure, unadulterated panic. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

Agatha grinned like the devil herself. “You say... ‘Only mostly?’”

Alice nodded. “Yes. Play it cool.”

I nodded slowly, fingers trembling. “Okay... okay.” I typed the words, hesitated, then hit send.

A minute passed. Another buzz.

Lilia: You do tend to take up a lot of space.

Billy fell to the floor. “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?”

Agatha cackled. “It means you’re living in her head rent-free. Y/n, if you don’t escalate this, I will.”

I groaned, pacing the room again. “Okay. Okay. I need to flirt back. How do I flirt back without looking desperate?” 

Jen smirked. “You are desperate.”

Alice offered, “Maybe... ‘I hope I’m not too much trouble.’”

Agatha groaned. “Boring. Say, ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’”

“I’m not pushing it, Agatha.”

Billy grinned. “Coward.”

I sighed, typing Alice’s suggestion.

Me: I hope I’m not too much trouble.

Another buzz.

Lilia: Not yet.

I screamed into a pillow.

Agatha raised her glass. “Ladies and gentlemen... we got her.”

The next morning, I walked into the shop with my heart pounding in my chest, expecting— hoping —for some sort of acknowledgment from Lilia. Maybe a sly smile, a lingering look, or even a teasing comment about our texts.

Instead, I got... nothing.

“Morning, y/n,” she greeted me in her usual warm but distant tone, barely glancing up from rearranging a set of tarot decks.

I blinked. “Uh, morning.”

She didn’t say anything else. No mention of the texts, no coy smile, no baby. Just business as usual.

I busied myself at the counter, sneaking glances at her whenever I could. And while she seemed to be going out of her way to act normal, something was different. She stood closer to me when we worked together, her hands occasionally brushing mine when I passed her something. She touched my arm when she needed me to move, her fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

But she didn’t say anything about it.

Not a damn thing.

And to make things worse, she kept casually reminding me of just how much older she was.

“You wouldn’t remember,” she said with a small chuckle when I asked about an old book she was dusting off. “It’s before your time.”

When I mentioned a show I’d been watching, she waved it off with a smirk. “Oh, y/n, that’s so... modern. I remember when television didn’t have color. ”

And when I tripped over my words trying to ask her a question, she just gave me that small, infuriating smile and murmured, “Ah, youth.”

It was driving me insane.

That night, I gathered with the coven at Agatha’s, pacing the living room like a woman on the edge. “She’s driving me crazy, ” I groaned, throwing myself onto the couch dramatically.

Jen raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t mention the texts at all? ”

“Not even once! ” I threw my hands in the air. “It’s like they never happened! And yet she’s touching me more than ever, but at the same time, she keeps bringing up how ancient she is.”

Agatha smirked. “Ah, classic ‘I’m too old for you’ defense.”

Billy frowned. “Wait, you think she’s doing it on purpose?”

Alice nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like she’s trying to create distance without actually pulling away.”

I groaned into a pillow. “So what does that mean? She’s interested but scared?”

Jen hummed. “Maybe. Or she could just be screwing with you.”

Agatha sipped her wine. “Or hear me out—she’s waiting for you to push past the age thing.”

I peeked out from the pillow. “Push past it how? ”

Billy grinned. “Flirt harder.”

I sat up. “I don’t think I can flirt harder, Billy.”

Agatha leaned in with a devilish grin. “Then you make her realise age doesn’t matter.”

Jen smirked. “And how exactly does she do that?”

Agatha’s eyes gleamed. “Confidence. You show her you’re mature, and that she’s the one wasting time over nothing.”

I frowned. “And if she’s genuinely not interested?”

Alice squeezed my hand. “Then at least you’ll know for sure.”

Billy nudged me. “Look, the way she texts you... she’s interested, y/n. No way she’s not.”

I sighed. “I just... I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “y/n. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s hesitant. There’s a difference.”

Jen nodded. “You just need to show her that you’re serious, that you’re not some wide-eyed kid crushing on her.”

I groaned again. “So what do I do?”

Agatha grinned. “You step up your game. And I have just the plan.”

The shop was quiet this afternoon, the scent of incense curling through the air as I busied myself restocking the shelves. Lilia sat behind the counter, flipping through a book, her brow furrowed in quiet concentration. It was a peaceful kind of day until the bell above the door chimed, and I looked up, nearly dropping the stack of crystals in my hands.

I froze.

Standing in the doorway, looking just as poised and elegant as ever, was my ex.

“Oh my God,” I muttered under my breath.

She blinked, then smiled in genuine surprise. “y/n?”

Lilia glanced up at the exchange, her expression pleasantly neutral, though I noticed the way her fingers paused mid-page turn.

I forced a smile, setting down the crystals. “Hey! Wow, uh... what are you doing here?”

She laughed lightly, brushing a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “A friend of mine recommended this place. Said the tarot readings here were... life-changing. ”

Agatha, you absolute menace.

Before I could explain, Lilia stood, offering one of her usual polite smiles. “A friend of y/n’s?”

My ex turned to her, all charm and grace. “Oh no, dear,” she said with a small chuckle, resting a hand on the counter. “I’m her ex.”

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

Lilia’s lips parted slightly, her eyes widening just a fraction before she masked it with a practiced blink. “Oh,” she said slowly, clearly recalibrating. “I see.” Her eyes flicked between us, and then, with an almost surgical precision, she added, “Aren’t you... a little old?”

I internally screamed.

My ex, to her credit, handled it with an amused smile. “It was perfectly legal, I assure you.”

Lilia’s gaze didn’t waver. “Hm.”

I coughed awkwardly, feeling my face heat. “We, uh... it was a while ago.”

Lilia didn’t respond, just continued observing me with that unreadable expression of hers, her hands resting lightly on the counter.

My ex gave me a lingering smile. “You look good, y/n. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” I said, shifting uncomfortably under Lilia’s silent gaze. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” she replied with a casual shrug. “But I won’t keep you, I just wanted to check the place out. It’s lovely. I’ll be sure to come back when I have time for a tarot reading.” She smiled politely at Lilia. “I see y/n’s in good hands.” She added.

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she only nodded. “Naturally.”

I was pretty sure I was sweating at this point. “Uh, yeah, well, good seeing you. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” she said with a lingering smile before heading out the door with a soft chime of the bell.

The moment she was gone, I turned to Lilia, ready to explain but she was already facing away from me, carefully aligning a deck of tarot cards that didn’t need aligning.

Silence stretched between us, heavy and thick.

I cleared my throat. “Sooo... that happened.”

Lilia hummed noncommittally, her focus apparently glued to the cards in her hands. “Indeed.”

I shifted awkwardly. “You okay?”

She glanced at me, her expression perfectly composed but her eyes just a little too sharp. “I’m fine, baby.”

Baby. I nearly sighed in relief at the sound of it, but something about the way she said it, softer, more thoughtful made my stomach twist.

“You sure? You’re, uh... being quiet.”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just... thinking.”

I frowned, watching her closely. “About?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead carefully setting the tarot deck down before meeting my gaze. “I suppose I’m just... surprised.”

“Surprised?” I echoed.

Lilia tilted her head, her expression unreadable again. “You didn’t strike me as someone who dated... older women.”

I laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh... surprise?”

Lilia studied me for a long moment, her lips pressing together like she was considering something. “I see.”

And then, without another word, she turned back to her work, and I was left standing there, feeling like I had somehow lost a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

By nightfall, I was back at Agatha’s, crashing onto her couch, groaning dramatically. “Agatha, you suck. ”

She grinned over her wine glass. “You’re welcome.”

Jen shook her head. “So let me get this straight, you saw your ex, Lilia found out, and now she’s acting weird? ”

“Weird,” I confirmed, running a hand through my hair. “She’s quiet. Too quiet. And she kept bringing up the age thing before, but now she’s, like, really leaning into it.”

Billy grinned. “So she’s jealous.”

I groaned. “I don’t know! She’s not saying anything. She’s just being all... introspective.”

Agatha smirked. “Oh, she’s spiraling.”

Alice gave me a sympathetic look. “Maybe she’s just processing. I mean, you’re younger, and she’s probably overthinking it.”

“She is overthinking it,” I muttered. “And I don’t know what to do!”

Jen sipped her drink. “You flirt with her more.”

Billy nodded. “Exactly. Show her age means nothing.”

I sighed. “I don’t know if I can just—”

Agatha cut me off. “y/n. Look at me.”

I looked.

“You are hot. You are charming. And you have successfully dated an older woman before. ”

I winced. “Thanks for the reminder.”

She grinned. “Lilia Calderu is not immune to you. Trust me. She’s just panicking because now she knows she’s not the first older woman you’ve been interested in.”

Alice chimed in gently, “She might have been telling herself the age thing was a reason not to get involved with you. And now? She’s realising it’s not a reason at all.”

I blinked. “You think?”

Agatha smirked. “I know. ”

Billy fist-pumped. “So, new plan?”

I sighed, staring at my phone, where Lilia’s name sat in my recent messages. “New plan,” I mumbled. “Step up the flirting.”

Agatha raised her glass. “To y/n’s romantic conquest!”

I groaned. This was going to be so much worse than the texting.

I walked into the shop with renewed determination. Last night’s pep talk with the coven had me feeling... well, mostly confident. At least confident enough to step up my game and make it clear to Lilia that the whole age thing? Not an issue. I had a plan, flirt, be charming, and maybe, just maybe , get her to acknowledge whatever was happening between us.

Except life, as usual, had other plans.

The moment I walked in, the shop was packed. A line of customers at the counter, others browsing the shelves, and Lilia, poised, composed, and completely absorbed in reading after reading.

I blinked. “Since when do we get this busy?”

She didn’t answer, of course. Lilia never spoke during a reading, but the way she glanced up at me before flipping over a card for the woman in front of her said enough.

I sighed, shoving my bag behind the counter. 

After the reading, she finally looked up, smoothing her hands over the table. “It’s the full moon tomorrow. People are... searching.”

“Of course they are.”

So much for my grand seduction plan.

I tried, though. Between organising stock and ringing up sales, I threw in little comments. A brush of my hand here, a sly smile there. But Lilia? She was avoiding me like it was her new favorite hobby.

Every time I moved toward her, she shifted her attention to a customer. When I leaned against the counter, trying to catch her eye, she breezed past me with a murmured, “Excuse me, baby.”

And when I finally managed to get close enough to remind her about my plans, she barely registered it.

“Hey, don’t forget I have to leave early tomorrow,” I said, leaning in slightly. “Agatha’s art gallery thing, remember? I told you last week.”

Lilia, scanning a book title, nodded absently. “Mhm. That’s fine, baby.”

I frowned. “Lilia, Agatha will kill me if I miss it.”

Still no real reaction. “You’ll be fine.”

And just like that, she was gone again, moving to help another customer without a second glance.

I stared after her, utterly baffled. She was always attentive when I talked to her, always teasing or throwing in some cryptic comment to keep me on my toes. But today? Today, she was distant. Aloof. And it was driving me insane.

By the end of the day, I was ready to scream.

I stomped into Agatha’s that evening, slumping onto the couch in pure defeat. “She’s avoiding me.”

Agatha didn’t even look up from her wine. “Told you she’d spiral.”

Billy, sprawled on the floor with a tarot deck, flipped over a random card and smirked. “I predict that she’s freaking out.”

Jen raised an eyebrow. “You got all that from the cards?”

“No, I got that from common sense,” Billy said, grinning.

Alice offered me a sympathetic smile. “Maybe she’s just busy?”

I threw my hands in the air. “No, Alice. She’s strategically avoiding me. I tried everything today. Every time I got close, she found something else to do.”

Jen winced. “Ouch. So what’s the plan now?”

Agatha set down her wine, eyes gleaming. “Simple. You keep going.”

I groaned. “Agatha.”

“No, listen,” she insisted, sitting up. “If she’s avoiding you, that means she felt something yesterday. And now she’s panicking.”

Billy grinned. “So what you’re saying is... push harder?”

I groaned again. “You guys want me to die.”

Agatha leaned back, grinning. “You’ve survived worse.”

I sighed. “I told her I was leaving early for your thing tomorrow. She barely reacted.”

Agatha smirked. “Good. Because tomorrow, my dear y/n, she’s going to realise just how much she hates it when you’re not around.”

Alice smiled kindly. “Maybe a little space will make her see what she’s missing.”

I stared at the ceiling. “I hate all of you.”

Billy grinned. “We know.”

As soon as I stepped into the shop again, it felt like déjà vu. But thankfully today the shop was quiet. Not many customers, just the quiet hum of the incense burner. And, of course, Lilia still expertly dodging me like it was her life’s mission.

I tried to be casual about it, leaning on the counter and watching her pretend to be absorbed in inventory she’d probably memorised years ago. “Hey, mind if I use your place to get ready for Agatha’s thing later?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

She didn’t even look up, just nodded. “Of course. The spare key’s behind the counter.”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Thanks.”

And just like that, she was back to pretending I didn’t exist.

I stared at her for a moment, resisting the urge to say something more, something to break through whatever walls she was so determined to put up. But instead, I just grabbed the spare key and headed into the back.

Lilia’s space was tucked behind the shop, a cozy, cluttered little place filled with books, candles, and an endless supply of robes draped over various furniture pieces. I didn’t think much of it as I changed into the dress Agatha had practically forced me to wear. The dress hugged every inch of me in all the right places, the deep shade accentuating my skin in a way that even I had to admit was... impressive.

I slipped on my heels, applied my red lipstick with a steady hand, and fixed my hair until it fell just right. I wasn’t trying to do anything, this was just getting ready for Agatha’s event but even I could admit I looked good.

With one last glance in the mirror, I grabbed my things and stepped back into the shop.

Lilia was standing behind the counter, flipping through a book, seemingly lost in thought. She didn’t look up at first.

And then she did.

I watched the reaction unfold in slow motion, the way her eyes lifted, trailing up from the hem of my dress to my legs, then higher, higher, until they reached my face. Then she looked down, as if to double-check what she’d just seen. And then— snap —right back up again, her head jerking so fast I swore she almost gave herself whiplash.

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time ever, she said absolutely nothing.

I bit back a smile and walked over to the counter, heels clicking against the wooden floor, and held out the keys. “Thanks for letting me use your place.”

Lilia’s fingers closed around the keys, but she didn’t look away. Her dark eyes dragged over me again, slower this time, like she was trying to take it all in, maybe even commit it to memory.

There was something in the way she was looking at me, like she was working up the courage to say something. Her mouth opened slightly, and for a split second, I thought she might finally break her silence.

And then, right on cue, the door chimed.

“y/n, darling!” Agatha’s voice was as bright and smug as ever as she strolled in, wearing a knowing smile that only deepened when she saw the way Lilia was staring at me. “Look at you.”

Lilia’s gaze snapped away, and just like that, the moment was gone.

Agatha’s arm linked through mine, her grin positively feral as she turned to Lilia. “I’m stealing her for the night. Hope you don’t mind.”

Lilia finally spoke, her voice softer than usual. “Not at all.”

I turned to her with a small smile. “Bye, Lilia.”

She nodded, still looking at me like she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Goodnight, baby.”

Agatha practically dragged me out of the shop, and as soon as the door shut behind us, she let out a low whistle.

“Holy shit, y/n.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, yeah.”

“No, no, did you see her face?” Agatha cackled, practically vibrating with glee. “I think you just aged her a decade.”

I groaned. “She didn’t even say anything.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, starting the car. “Oh, honey, she didn’t need to. That woman was devouring you with her eyes.”

I bit my lip, staring out the window. “You think?”

“I know. ”

And honestly? I really, really hoped she was right.

The night with Agatha was exactly what I needed. I loved things like this, dressing up, feeling the buzz of conversation, the soft glow of lights reflecting off expensive paintings, and the effortless way I fit into it all. There was something about the atmosphere, about the way people looked at me, that made me feel alive. And, of course, Agatha basked in it too, sipping her wine with a smirk and throwing me knowing looks every time someone complimented my dress.

"You clean up dangerously well, darling," she whispered at one point, nudging me with her elbow. "No wonder Lilia nearly combusted."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight the heat creeping up my neck. "She didn't combust."

Agatha just grinned. "She will."

After the event wrapped up, Agatha, never one to let a good night end too soon, insisted on a celebratory gathering at her place. It didn't take much convincing—Billy, Jen, and Alice were already in, and honestly, I loved being around them. Nights like this were rare, and I soaked it in, lounging on Agatha’s plush couch with a glass of wine in hand while she dramatically recounted the events of the night.

"And then," Agatha said, eyes sparkling with mischief, "she walked out of that little back room, looking absolutely devastating, and I swear to you, Lilia nearly dropped dead. "

Jen gasped in delight. "Shut up. "

Billy, sprawled out on the floor with his arms behind his head, grinned. "I knew it. I knew she couldn’t handle it."

Alice, ever the voice of calm, smiled softly. "She really didn't say anything?"

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Not a word. She just... stared. "

Agatha smirked. "Stared? Honey, that woman was devouring you with her eyes."

Jen cackled. "So what’s the next move, y/n? Do we escalate?"

"I don't know!" I groaned. "She’s been weird all week, avoiding me, and now this? What does it even mean? "

Billy rolled onto his side. "It means she’s cracking."

"She’s definitely cracking," Jen agreed. "And if you play your cards right, she’ll snap soon enough."

I sighed, swirling my wine. "I don’t want to push her if she’s uncomfortable, though. If she’s really that caught up about the age thing—"

Agatha waved me off. "Oh, please. She’s not uncomfortable. She’s terrified. "

"Terrified?" I frowned.

"Terrified because she knows you could wreck her entire world, and she wouldn’t stand a chance." Agatha leaned in with a wicked smile. "And she likes being in control, doesn’t she?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but my phone buzzed, cutting through the conversation. My heart leapt into my throat.

I glanced down, and there it was.

Lilia: Let me know when you get home safe.

I stared at the screen, the words blurring slightly as my heart hammered against my ribs.

Billy sat up instantly. "Who is it?"

I swallowed hard. "Lilia."

The room erupted.

"Oh my God," Jen practically shrieked, grabbing my arm. "She texted you?! "

Agatha grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Oh, she’s gone. "

I blinked, staring at the message. "It’s just... she wants to make sure I’m okay."

Agatha snatched the phone from my hand, reading the message aloud in a dramatic tone. "Let me know when you get home safe." She gasped theatrically. "Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve entered the protective phase. "

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. "It’s not a big deal."

Jen poked me. "y/n. Babe. This is a huge deal. She’s thinking about you right now. She’s picturing you coming home, kicking off your heels, and—"

"Okay, that’s enough," I muttered, my face burning.

Billy smirked. "But seriously, what are you gonna say back?"

I stared at the message again, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "I don’t know. What do I even say? "

Agatha leaned in with a devious grin. "Simple. ‘Wish you were here.’"

I shot her a glare. "I’m not sexting her."

Alice smiled. "You could just say, ‘I will, thanks for checking in.’ Casual, but lets her know you appreciate it."

Jen hummed. "Or... you could send a little something extra. Not too flirty, just enough to keep her thinking."

I sighed. "You guys are terrible influences."

Billy shrugged. "We know."

I rolled my eyes but typed out a response anyway.

Me: Thanks, Lilia. I will. You're sweet for checking in.

I hovered over the send button, heart racing, before pressing it.

The room watched in silent anticipation.

Billy grinned. "And now we wait."

I stared at my phone, willing it to buzz again. The coven had gone back to their usual antics. Billy was dramatically narrating the highlights of Agatha’s gallery event, Jen was critiquing the wine selection, and Agatha was lounging with a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with her own meddling.

But me? I was glued to my screen, staring at Lilia’s last message like it held the secrets of the universe.

And then, finally, my phone buzzed.

Lilia: Please let me know if I need to send the police out.

I snorted, shaking my head. “She’s threatening to call the cops on me.”

Billy perked up. “That’s sexy.”

I sighed, typing out a response.

Me: I’m at Agatha’s, staying here tonight.

A moment later, another buzz.

Lilia: Good. Glad you’re safe.

I exhaled, a small smile tugging at my lips. But before I could even process it, another message popped up.

Lilia: How did the night go?

The coven erupted.

“Oh my God, ” Jen gasped, grabbing my arm. “She’s fishing. ”

“Grandma’s up past her bedtime, ” Agatha grinned, swirling her wine. “Probably already touching herself thinking about y/n and that red lipstick.”

I choked on my drink. “ Agatha! ”

Billy cackled, rolling onto his side. “I mean, she did see you in that dress. You think she just went to sleep after that? Hell no.”

Alice, blushing furiously, covered her face. “Oh my God, guys.”

I groaned, glaring at them. “Can you all not? She’s being nice, that’s all.”

Agatha smirked. “Sweetheart, people don’t stay up texting their employees at midnight just to be nice. ”

Jen waved a hand. “Yeah, no one’s buying that. She’s sitting at home, staring at her phone, probably replaying that double take she did when you walked out in that dress.”

Billy wagged his brows. “Lilia Calderu: palm reader by day, handsy old woman by night.”

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate all of you.”

Agatha grinned. “No, you love us. Now text her back. Be flirty, y/n.”

I peeked out from my hands. “What do I even say?”

Jen, ever the strategist, leaned in. “Keep it casual but suggestive. Something like, ‘It was good. Would’ve been better if you were there.’”

Billy gasped. “Yes, yes, YES.”

Alice shook her head. “That’s too much. Maybe just say, ‘It went well, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’”

Agatha snorted. “Boring.”

I sighed, staring at my phone. “Fine. I’ll go with something... middle ground.”

I typed, biting my lip.

Me: It went well. I think I made an impression.

The coven leaned in, waiting as I hovered over the send button. I rolled my eyes and hit it.

We all stared at the screen, waiting.

My phone buzzed again.

Lilia: I have no doubt you did, baby.

I froze, and the coven lost it.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling over the keyboard. “I think I’m going to die.”

Agatha grinned. “Not before you sext her back. ”

I stared at my phone, heart hammering in my chest, Lilia’s message practically burning into my screen.

I turned to the coven, wide-eyed and completely at a loss. “What do I say? What do I say?! ”

Alice sighed. “Keep it playful. Like, ‘Good to know my reputation precedes me.’”

Agatha smirked. “Or—and hear me out—‘I leave a mark wherever I go... want me to leave my mark on you?’”

I groaned, grabbing my phone back. “You all suck.”

Billy grinned. “And yet you keep asking for our help.”

I rolled my eyes but typed anyway, fingers trembling just slightly.

Me: Good to know my reputation precedes me.

A collective sigh of satisfaction rippled through the group as I hit send.

We all stared at the screen again. Silence. Then...

Lilia: It does. Quite the reputation, indeed.

Jen gasped. “OH. MY. GOD. ”

Agatha laughed, draping herself dramatically over the couch. “y/n, darling, you are killing her.”

I couldn’t fight the smile stretching across my lips, warmth spreading through me.

Alice giggled. “This is so cute.”

Billy nodded sagely. “It’s not cute, Alice. It’s sexy. ”

We kept chatting for a while longer, Agatha tossing out increasingly absurd suggestions that I shot down one by one, and eventually, we all crashed, smiles on our faces, hearts full, and just enough teasing to ensure I wouldn’t get a moment’s peace tomorrow.

It was so fucking early. Too early. The kind of early that felt like a personal attack.

I woke up to the sharp smell of coffee and the unmistakable sound of Billy and Jen bickering, their voices cutting through the dawn like they had no concept of time—or mercy. My brain protested every second of consciousness, but I managed to peel myself off the couch, blinking blearily.

After some groggy, half-conscious hugs and a round of mumbled promises to update each other, we all stumbled our separate ways, the world outside still drenched in that unsettling, pre-sunrise gloom.

And then... I was home. Alone.

And I was bored.

I wasn’t at the shop today, which meant I had absolutely no distractions. No tarot cards to organise, no shelves to restock, and, most importantly, no Lilia. I found myself pacing my apartment, debating whether it would be too much to text her again, but the thought made me cringe.

I needed an excuse. Something casual.

I chewed my lip, glancing at my keys. And then it hit me.

Lilia loved this little Italian pastry place across town, she mentioned it once in passing, some small hole-in-the-wall bakery that she claimed made the best sfogliatelle she’d had since leaving Sicily.

Before I could overthink it, I grabbed my coat and drove across town.

By the time I reached the shop, the Closed sign was still hanging on the door. It was early, too early for the shop to be open yet, but I knocked anyway, clutching the warm box of pastries in my hands.

A few seconds passed, and then the door creaked open.

Lilia stood there in a robe— a robe.

A silky, deep burgundy robe that clung to her in ways that made my brain short-circuit. Her dark curls were loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and she looked... soft. Sleepy.

And I was the one speechless now.

“y/n?” she murmured, brow furrowing in confusion.

I swallowed hard, trying to remember how to form words. “Uh... I brought breakfast.” I held up the box like an offering, as if that explained why I was standing outside her shop at an ungodly hour.

She stared at me for a beat, then at the pastries, and then back at me. Without a word, she stepped aside, opening the door wider.

I stepped inside, the familiar scent of the shop mingling with the faint, warm scent of her.

Lilia gestured to the small table in the corner where we usually sat with tea. “Sit,” she said softly, closing the door behind me.

I obeyed, setting the pastries down as she disappeared into the back for a moment. When she returned, she had two mugs of coffee in hand, sliding one across the table to me.

“Thought you had today off,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

I shrugged, unboxing the pastries. “I do. I just... thought you’d like these.”

Her lips twitched. “From my favorite place?”

I grinned. “I listen.”

She picked up one of the pastries, inspecting it like she was deciding if I’d done a good job. Then she took a bite, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “You really do listen.”

I laughed softly, watching her. “So, how’d the shop do without me yesterday?”

Lilia smirked. “It survived.”

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the tension from the night before melting into something more familiar. She asked about the gallery, my friends, the art. I told her about Billy’s ridiculous art commentary and Agatha’s smug satisfaction.

“You have good friends,” she said after a while, stirring her coffee thoughtfully.

“They’re the best,” I agreed, smiling.

She sipped her coffee, watching me over the rim of the mug with those dark, knowing eyes. “And they care about you... a lot.”

I shrugged. “I care about them too.”

Something flickered in her expression, but before I could ask, she glanced at the clock and sighed. “You should probably head back before they start wondering where you are.”

I pouted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Her lips twitched. “I’m saying your fan club will miss you.”

I rolled my eyes, taking the hint, and stood to gather my things. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you get ready to open.”

Lilia smirked, walking me to the door. “Smart choice, baby.”

I paused in the doorway, turning to her. “Thanks for letting me crash your morning.”

She leaned against the doorframe, her gaze soft but unreadable. “Anytime.”

I left with a flutter in my chest, already thinking about what excuse I could come up with to see her again.

The evening was quiet, just me and the soft hum of the TV filling the apartment. I was curled up on the couch, half-watching some crime drama, the kind where the detectives always figure things out way too fast. My mind kept drifting back to this morning, Lilia in that robe, the way she’d looked at me, the way her lips had curled around the edge of her coffee cup like she was considering something she wouldn’t say out loud.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, telling myself to stop overthinking.

And then my phone buzzed.

I glanced at the screen, expecting a text from one of the coven, but my brows furrowed at the sender.

Lilia Calderu.

I sat up a little straighter, unlocking my phone.

The message? Absolute gibberish.

“fhbgggjkkjj”

I blinked.

I stared at it.

I blinked again.

I typed back quickly.

Me: Lilia? Everything okay?

No response.

I stared at my phone, waiting.

Still nothing.

I chewed on my lip, debating if I should call her, when—

RING.

I nearly dropped the phone as Lilia’s name flashed across the screen.

I fumbled to answer, pressing it to my ear. “Lilia?”

Nothing. Just... breathing.

Shaky, uneven breathing.

And then—

A whimper.

My entire body froze.

Another sound, soft and needy, and—

A low, drawn-out moan.

I choked on air, clutching the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. My mouth went completely dry.

There was no mistaking what I was hearing. No way.

I opened my mouth to say something— anything —but before I could, the line went dead.

I stared at the phone like it had just burst into flames in my hand.

“No. No way,” I whispered to myself, blinking rapidly.

This... this had to be an accident. Maybe she sat on her phone? Maybe—maybe she was watching a... video or something? Yeah, I thought, nodding to myself. That makes sense. Probably just a mistake.

A completely innocent, totally not deliberate mistake.

My phone stayed silent in my hands, and I sat there for about 20 minutes, just processing.

And then my phone buzzed again.

Lilia: Ignore that.

I gawked at the screen.

Ignore that?

Like it was just some minor inconvenience?

My fingers trembled as I typed back.

Me: …Okay?

There was a long pause.

Then, finally—

Lilia: Goodnight, baby.

I groaned, falling back against the couch, covering my face with my hands.

“She’s going to kill me.”

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it, the soft whimper, the breathy moan, the way the call cut off before I could even process what was happening. My mind replayed it over and over, dissecting every second until I convinced myself it had to be a mistake.

Lilia had to have accidentally pocket dialed me. There was no way she’d do something like that on purpose. Right?

By the time morning rolled around, I was a mess, over-caffeinated, under-rested, and dreading what was going to happen when I walked into the shop.

I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, bracing myself for something, anything awkwardness, a comment, maybe even a cryptic remark about phones.

But when I walked in, Lilia was already behind the counter, counting the till like nothing had happened.

“Morning, y/n,” she said casually, not even looking up.

I froze for a second. “Uh... morning.”

She glanced up, arching a brow at my hesitation. “Are you alright?”

I stared at her, searching for any hint of discomfort or amusement anything that would give away the fact that she absolutely knew what she did last night. But she just looked... normal. Unbothered. As if she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I cleared my throat, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just... didn’t sleep well.”

Lilia hummed knowingly. “Ah, too much excitement from your art gala adventure the previous night?”

I blinked. Was that... was that a dig? I couldn't tell.

“Something like that,” I muttered, setting my bag down behind the counter.

She straightened up and gave me one of her usual, polite smiles. “I need you to organise the crystal display today. People keep moving things around, and it’s driving me crazy.”

I stared at her, waiting for something, some sly comment, some subtle hint that she knew.

Nothing.

She just handed me a cloth and gestured toward the shelves like it was any other day.

I nodded slowly, taking it from her. “Sure. I can do that.”

Lilia’s lips quirked, and she patted my shoulder lightly. “Good girl.”

The words slipped from Lilia’s lips like they meant nothing, like they weren’t currently wreaking absolute havoc on my nervous system.

I gripped the cloth in my hands so tight I was surprised it didn’t disintegrate. My entire body was in overdrive, my brain short-circuiting in real-time, because after last night, after hearing that noise, after spending all night dissecting it from every possible angle, there was no way I could process her saying that without losing my mind.

And yet, Lilia carried on like she hadn’t just set me on fire.

She hummed to herself as she floated across the shop, rearranging candles with her usual air of elegant chaos, soft, sophisticated, yet somehow still completely kooky. She muttered something under her breath about “people putting things in the wrong places” and shot the candles a scolding look, as if they were responsible.

Meanwhile, I stood there, trying to act like my entire worldview hadn’t shifted overnight.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know.

There was no way she had butt-dialled me on purpose, right? No way she knew what I’d heard. But what if she suspected? What if she was saying things like good girl just to watch me unravel? Was I unraveling? It definitely felt like I was unraveling.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Lilia’s voice cut through my spiralling thoughts, and I nearly jumped, clutching the cloth like it was a lifeline.

“I’m—I'm fine,” I croaked, too fast, too awkward.

She glanced at me with a raised brow, then tilted her head, curls slipping over her shoulder in that careless, elegant way she always managed. “Mm.” Her lips quirked, amused but not prying, yet. “If you say so.”

I nodded too quickly, ducking my head and wiping the same spot on the shelf three times. Play it cool. Play it cool. She doesn’t know.

Lilia, completely oblivious to the chaos in my head, twirled one of her rings around her finger absentmindedly, watching me with a curious little smile. “You really didn’t sleep well, did you?”

I froze. Oh god. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged, returning to fussing with the display, adjusting a vase by a fraction of an inch before stepping back with a satisfied nod. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” I tried to keep my voice casual, but I was fairly sure I sounded like I was moments away from combusting.

Lilia turned, resting her elbows on the counter and watching me with a thoughtful expression. “The same one you get when you’re overthinking things. Your brow does this little... crinkle.”

My hand shot up to my forehead instinctively. “It does not.”

Her lips twitched. “Oh, it does.”

I groaned under my breath, focusing aggressively on the shelf in front of me. “It’s nothing. Just... a long night.”

She hummed knowingly. “Ah, still recovering from the art gala. I imagine it was... stimulating. Those events tend to linger, don’t they.”

I choked. “What?”

Lilia blinked, completely innocent. “The art. Your friends.” She paused. “The drinks?”

I stared at her, searching for even the tiniest flicker of something, anything , that might indicate she was toying with me. But she just looked... normal. Perfectly composed. Like she hadn’t called me in the middle of the night and—

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. Stimulating.”

Lilia tilted her head, eyes twinkling. “You’re acting strange.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Are you in trouble? Did you get up to mischief?”

My entire existence was mischief at this point. “No.”

Lilia pursed her lips, clearly not convinced, but she didn’t press. Instead, she gently adjusted the sleeve of her robe, glancing at the clock. “Well, whatever it is, baby, I’m sure it’ll sort itself out.”

There it was again. Baby. My knees nearly gave out.

I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the shelf. Focus.

To make things worse, she strolled over, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of her, something warm, a little floral, a little spicy, something that was so Lilia it made my head spin. She picked up a crystal from the display I was supposed to be fixing and turned it over in her hands.

“This one’s nice,” she mused, running her fingers along the edges. Then, without missing a beat, she handed it to me. “For stress.”

I blinked. “I’m not stressed.”

She smiled, and it was the kind of smile that said she knew I was lying through my teeth. “Of course not.”

I took the crystal anyway, staring at it like it might offer me some divine clarity.

Lilia lingered for a moment longer, then gave a satisfied nod. “Well, I’m off to pretend I’m being productive in the back. Call if you need me.”

I watched her disappear behind the curtain, releasing the breath I didn’t realise I was holding. The second she was out of sight, I dropped my head onto the counter and groaned into my arms.

What the hell was I supposed to do with this?

She didn’t know.

And yet, somehow, it felt like she was winning a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

I sighed, rolling the crystal in my palm, muttering under my breath. “Progress. It’s progress.”

Because she wasn’t avoiding me. And if this was how she wanted to play it?

Fine. Two could play that game.

For now.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

blue eyes + bruises - part seven

✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

Rafe had taken you to the physical therapy room that was located in the downstairs portion of the hospital. You were excited, finally getting out of the room, finally getting to move. You’d mostly been doing your exercises with Rafe or the therapist in your hospital room for the last few months, unable to move more than a few feet at a time with your crutches. Today, they thought you were ready to begin putting weight on your leg, the bone finally being healed enough to withstand the pressure. But, as you found yourself sitting in front of him in a wheelchair in front of two parallel bars as he knelt in front of you, coaxing you to actually, physically put your best foot forward, you felt inadequate. The space in between the bars was daunting and you were scared. You felt like you weren’t up for the challenge. Would you ever walk again? and if you couldn’t do what he was asking, would you never get to have him the way you wanted – would you ever be – the you that you knew again? As you looked down at him, you could tell he sensed your fear, you could tell that not only did this mean a lot to you, it meant a lot to him. 

“What’s going on inside that pretty head of yours?” 

He asked, his tone playful, but also lined with concern. 

“I don’t think I can do it. I’m scared that I can’t hold my own weight. I haven’t been able to in so long.” 

You whispered into the thin space between his body and yours. He grabbed your hands from the arms of the wheelchair, balancing on the balls of his feet. 

“You can, I promise.” 

He reassured you softly, but you didn’t know what to say or do. 

“What if I never walk again, Rafe? What if I’m like this forever and no one ever loves me because of it?” 

He was startled at your question because he already knew one person who was so deeply in love with you that it was painful. He didn’t care if you were wheelchair bound for the rest of your life; that wouldn’t change how he felt. But, he needed you to be happy, to be able to teach again and the only way he was going to get you out of this headspace was to show you a little bit of tough love. 

“Look at me – you’re not paralyzed. Your pelvis was broken, yes and so was your leg. But, I fixed it, sweetheart. The only person standing in your way right now is you. You have every capability to walk and you will. It’s not going to feel good at first, it’s going to hurt. But, I’m going to be here, right behind you for every step, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Your vision became cloudy with unshed tears. Sometimes it felt like Rafe knew whatever you needed in every moment and he provided it, effortlessly, without question. 

“Okay. I trust you.” 

You whispered again, sniffles filling the thin air in between the two of you as Rafe wiped the tears that had fallen off of your rosy colored cheeks. Rafe gave you a reassuring nod before moving to place a walker in front of you. You looked at it, unsure of how you felt about moving, about standing on your own two feet after spending the two weeks it had been since your surgery on strict orders of bed rest. He moved behind you, arms reaching underneath your armpits, pushing you upward once you gave him the okay. The physical therapist stood close by, coaxing you forward with words – directions – that you couldn’t quite make out. 

“Hands on the handles, baby. I’ve got you, I promise.” 

Rafe cooed in your ear, his reassuring words were all you could focus on as the pain of standing for the first time in two weeks hit your senses. Tears pricked your eyes – the sensation of your limbs hitting the floor bringing an ache in your bones that was so great, it reminded you of the initial pain you felt when you heard the crunch of your car collide with the other vehicle. You let out a whimper and the tears fell down your face once more. 

“Rafe –, i-it’s too much –, it hurts too much!” 

Your scream sounded more like a battle cry to him and it felt like his heart was going to stop beating any second – seeing you like this, it was too much, it hurt too much.

“Easy, sweetheart. I know it hurts, baby. I’m so sorry. Can you take just one step for me? Just one and we can go back to your room and eat shitty food and watch movies all day, I promise.” 

He encouraged you and you obliged, holding your breath as you willed your weak muscles to move. They shook as you were able to barely lift one foot off the ground, sliding it forward as your body protested and your muscles screamed, ready to succumb to the ground beneath you. 

“Look at you, pretty girl – walking! Take another step for me, okay?” 

You knew Rafe was right, you knew you needed to do this. So, you listened, repeating the same gut-wrenching process with your other foot. It was successful and after five steps, Rafe let you rest, ready to take you back to your room and cuddle you until you fell asleep. He lifted you, carrying you back to the wheelchair, noting how tired you were. He couldn’t put you through the pain of five more steps – it would’ve killed him. 

“Okay, pretty girl. Let’s go take a nap.” 

He whispered against your sweat soaked hairline, planting a kiss before pulling away and wheelcing you back upstairs to your room. 

-

It hadn’t been long after he got you settled back into your bed and curled up next to you that he had realized you were sad, the weight of your inability to function on your own weighed heavy on your chest and as you cuddled deeper into his chest for the third time he probed you just a bit. 

“Sweet girl, if you get any closer I think you’ll be inside my skin.” 

He spoke in a sarcastic, joke-y voice. But, you suddenly felt insecure at his words. 

He means you’re clingy. 

He means get off of him. 

He means you’re a burden to him. 

“O-Oh, I’m sorry. I can get off of you. I don’t mean to be clingy.” 

You spoke, trying to move away from him and his breath caught in his throat. The stutter, the hurt that lined your words – it hit him like a ton of bricks.  Clingy? Had he just fucked up? He pulled you close to him again, wanting nothing more than for you to bury yourself in his chest again but this time your body felt rigid against him. Had he underestimated how fragile you were? Had he broken you into pieces again after trying so desperately to put you back together? 

“No –, that’s not what I meant. I was just making a joke, sweetheart.”

You gingerly nodded, thinking that maybe you were just being sensitive after having such a hard, emotional morning. 

“You know I always want you close to me, right? Don’t you know that by now?” 

He questioned, pulling your chin up with his thumb and forefinger so your eyes met his. He noted the unshed tears in your eyes and his chest began to grow tighter by the second. 

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter? What’s going on inside your pretty little brain?” 

He probed you sweetly, only wanting to do whatever he could to aid the pain you were feeling. 

“Everything just feels heavy, I guess.” 

You sniffled.

“What do you mean?” 

He questioned, running his free hand through your hair as he pushed the strands away from your face in a soothing manner, waiting for you to tell him how to fix it. 

“I’m just sad –, I just feel weird. I wish I could walk more than five wobbly steps and I wish I asn’t confined to a hospital and I wish wouldn’t have gotten blood on that beautiful dress I spent my last thirty dollars on for some stupid blind date.” 

The words came out of your mouth in a jumbled, fast manner. But he was able to decipher them all, the mumbled panic that was so uniquely you never bothered him. 

“I know, baby. I know. I’m right here, I’ll always be right here.” 

It was more of a declaration than a sentence and you hoped he was telling the truth. That was your last thought before falling asleep in his strong arms. 

-

Jenni had received a very detailed text from Rafe; begging, crying, pleading, for her help with a surprise he was planning for you. You were currently peacefully sleeping in his arms and had been for hours now. He didn’t have the heart to wake you after the morning you had – the pain etched on your face and the emotional fragility you had shown him, he just couldn’t bring himself to wake you from whatever beautiful things you were dreaming of. Instead, he continued to cuddle into you, brushing the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks and his fingers in and out of the strands of your hair. He needed Jenni’s help, held down by your body and not having the heart to move you or rid himself of your warmth, really it was more for him than for you. He just wanted to hold you, to be close to you. He took all his time with Molly for granted and he vowed not to do it ever again. Which left Jenni and her rockstar team of nurses who knew how the hell to plan anything and everything to plan the dreamy first date he had in mind for you. He knew you needed this, he knew you deserved it after everything you’d been through and he knew it was time that he made a move if he was going to make one. He even felt Molly give him the nudge from wherever she was. If she was going to send him anyone, he knew she would’ve sent you because you were everything good that he remembered about her – the kindness, the beauty, the wisdom, the pain. You were inherently good and tonight would be the night he’d show you. 

Jenni bought a dress for you to wear – satin, pale blue, the same one you had been crying over hours previously in Rafe’s arms – the same one you had come into the emergency room in, drenched in your own blood. For him, it had to be this dress, that was the only real request that had to met for the night to be successful in his mind and Jenni obliged. He hoped that when you wore it tonight, that you would feel reborn, that it would replace the memory of the last time it's cool fabric met your skin and the pain you associated with it. He hoped that whoever you were meant to meet the night of your accident, whatever was supposed to happen on that blind date was drowned out by the special night he had planned for you and that if you remembered anything about the accident – it was that it brought you together. Jenni stood in the doorway of your room giving Rafe a soft smile and a nod, ensuring him that her work was done and everything was ready for the two of you. You laid in his arms, the both of you having been watching procedural crime shows for the past hour – they were your favorite. Your attention was drawn away from the tv as Rafe turned the volume down and looked you in the eyes. 

“Pretty girl, I have a surprise for you.” 

He spoke sweetly, with the Rafe Cameron smile on his face. He was jittery and excited and you were curious, so you took the bait. 

“And what have I done to deserve a surprise?” 

You questioned, with a sarcastic laugh. 

“You’ve been such a good girl, today.” 

His voice was sensual and sexy as he placed a kiss on your cheek as blush rose from beneath it. 

“And what might this surprise be?” 

You questioned, laughing as his lips met the skin of your cheekbone, the tickle of his stubble making its presence known against your senses. 

“Not telling – Jenni’s gonna help you get all dolled up and I'll be back, okay sweetheart?” 

He gave you a soft smile and it sent arousal to your core – wondering what in God’s green earth this beautiful man had planned for you and what you had done to deserve even a fraction of his attention. 

“Okay, sweet boy.” 

You smiled and he left the room. Jenni pulled the dress out from behind the bathroom door where it hung. It was pressed and as she brought it close to you, you ran your fingertips down the cool, satin material. 

“How did you get it clean?” 

You wondered out loud, astonished at the shape of the dress. 

“I didn’t. I bought you a new one. Rafe requested this one be worn tonight, if that’s okay with you.” 

You were at a loss for words at his thoughtfulness – to send Jenni out to find this dress, the dress. You couldn’t fathom how you even deserved to breathe the same air that he did. You couldn’t form a sentence, you only nodded with teary eyes and a bright smile. She helped you into it before curling your hair and adding a small amount of makeup to your face – foundation and lip gloss was all you had requested and just as she added the gloss to your plump lips, Rafe stood in the doorway with a bouquet of tulips hanging from his hand as he leaned against the doorway and gawked at you. 

“You are just the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

He spoke, jaw hanging open before bringing his lips into a smile. It was your turn to gawk as your eyes took him in. His face was where you started, taking in every change that had been made to his appearance. He was even hotter outside of scrubs. His hair sat messily on his head, his stubble; now gone, leaving a mustache on his upper lip and for someone who wasn’t a mustache kind of girl – it was doing things to you. His shirt was littered with a black and white checker print with sporadic palm leaves layering on top. It clung to his arms in a way that you didn’t think was possible, but nevertheless, it was and it was only increasing your attraction to him by the second. The top two buttons were undone, his bare chest joining the party and you couldn’t complain – you had imagined what he looked like shirtless over a thousand times; never expecting you’d get to see him like this.  He paired it with black jeans and tennis shoes, they were black too. 

“You’re sweet.” 

You said, blush rising on your cheeks. He moved to the bed, where you sat and embraced Jenni in a hug. 

“Thank you. I owe ya one.” 

He whispered into her ear. 

“Just don’t fuck it up, Rafferty.” 

She grunted, smacking him playfully in the back of the head. He winced and tried to rub the spot where she hit him in an attempt to get the pain to go away. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” 

He asked, kneeling at your feet as he slid the sandals Jenni had picked out for you over your freshly painted toes. 

“I’m ready.” 

You replied, giving him a smile as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

-

You still couldn’t walk very far which meant Rafe had to push your wheelchair to the elevator and up all twenty-three floors of the hospital before the two of you made it to the rooftop. As the doors of the elevator swung open, and you took in the sight before you, your chest felt like it was going to cave in. The rooftop, which was usually only used as a helicopter landing pad for critical patients, had been transformed into a romantic getaway – string lights hung over the entirety of the space and a thick white quilt lined the concrete where a picnic basket sat waiting for you and Rafe to enjoy the contents inside of it. 

“Rafe, what is all this?” 

You questioned him and the joy on your face was enough to make his head explode. 

“This, my sweet, sweet girl, is our first date.” 

He cooed as he lifted you from the wheelchair bridal-style and sat you on top of a pillow that laid on the quilt. Your still healing pelvis would appreciate him for it later. He moved to sit across from you and took the orange juice he had prepared out of the basket, pouring it into a wine glass for you and handing it to you. 

“Rafe –, this –, this is so special. Thank you.” 

You gave him the biggest smile you could muster up, placing your hand over your heart to express how much it meant to you. 

“You’re welcome, sweet girl. You deserve it. I thought since you can’t leave the hospital and this is where we met, what better place than here?” 

He replied and you smiled. 

“So, what do people talk about on first dates? I mean I haven’t been on one in a long time.” 

You chuckled as you spoke and it lightened the mood. You were both nervous and you could feel it in the air that maybe he hadn’t been on one in a while either. 

“I haven’t either, baby. It’s okay.” 

He reached over, his hand intertwining with yours and you leaned into his touch. 

“You know that restaurant, La fogata? I was actually supposed to meet a girl there the night you came into the emergency room and when I saw you –, I just couldn’t leave.” 

His voice went from joyful to somber quickly. 

“That’s crazy because that’s where I was on my way to when I was hit. That’s where my blind date was supposed to be at. I’m sorry I kept you from your date, Rafe.” 

He looked at you with bewildered eyes. 

“Don’t apologize, sweet girl. I’m grateful that I was the one who got to take care of you even though I wished you had never gotten hurt so badly. Do you know who you were supposed to meet?” 

He questioned. 

“No, sadly I never got his name. A friend set us up, I just knew he was a doctor.” 

“What’s the name of your friend?” 

He asked you, wondering what the odds were that you were his date and fate had brought you together anyways. 

“Uh, Sarah. Sarah Cameron. We went to college together –” 

He sat, bewildered, shocked, confused. He felt so many emotions at once that he didn’t know what he felt. How had you been right under his nose for all of these years?

“What is it, Rafe?” 

You questioned in concern as you stared at his form. 

“Baby, Sarah is my sister. She set us up.” 

Your eyes went wide and the two of you looked at each other, shock littering your faces and you busted out laughing – huge, enormous belly laughs littered the air around you. When you finally came back down to earth, Rafe opened the picnic basket bringing out food from La Fogata – spanish rice, chicken, and cheese dip. He dished it out for you and you enjoyed the food, not having anything other than your biscuits and hospital food for what had felt like forever. 

“So, what is an eligible bachelor like you doing going on blind dates anyways?” 

He swallowed thickly, knowing the ball he was about to drop on you, wondering if you’d run in the opposite direction. 

“My wife died.” 

There was silence between the two of you for what felt like an hour, the cool breeze and the stars the only thing you could focus on. 

He was married. Of course, he was fucking married. He was beautiful and perfect and wounded. What kind of hell this sweet boy had gone through and he never even mentioned it, until now. 

“W-what?” 

You finally asked, unsure if you had heard him correctly. 

“She was in an accident similar to yours, she had injuries like you did, but when she came into the ER – she had lost too much blood. She was basically gone when she got here and t-then, she just died.” 

Tears lined his eyes as he spoke. He had no intention of sharing this information with you tonight, but he did anyway. He trusted you with his heart. 

“Rafe, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone like that. But, I do know what it’s like to grieve someone who’s still alive and I know how painful that is, so I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” 

He gripped your hand like his life depended on it. 

“It’s okay. I’m pretty sure she sent you to me.” 

Your eyes welled with tears at his words. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

He asked, politely – always a gentleman – and you nodded your head vigorously, leaning in as the journey between your lips and his was stopped and your mouths collided in a wet, sloppy, passionate kiss. His hands cupped your cheeks and yoru hands met his hair, the tickle of his mustache on your top lips made you smile, for a brief moment kissing with your teeth as his tongue fought to control yours. You fit in his mouth like you were always meant to be there, like you were always meant to be his – and maybe you were. 

taglist:

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[spiderb00]

- FAM OUT - DREAM LIFE

The barking of the dogs awakened Sophia from her perfect world. The Filipina was cooking, she loved doing it after a busy day, and with the house to herself, the peace she felt was what she needed to end the day. As soon as she put the platter in the oven, Sophia heard little footsteps running towards where she was, and then she could finally see the little copies of her running around the house.

"MOM!" Bending down to be at the height of the twins, Sophia opened her arms, being greeted by a slight impact when the two four-year-old twins hugged her.

"Mom, Mommy Yn took us to the playground, and let us play a lot of hours." Samantha, the older twin – only for twelve minutes – said, emphasizing her words by moving her hands.

"And then she took us out for ice cream!" Denver, the younger twin said, covering his mouth with his little hands when he realized what he said.

"Dev! You weren't supposed to tell that part!" Sam said, stomping her foot on the floor and making an angry face that looked a lot like Sophia's.

"No, it's okay, my loves. I don't like it when you eat dessert before dinner, but I'll talk to your mom about it. Now go upstairs and I'll go upstairs to give you a bath, you little dirt." Sophia said, tickling the two children, who ran away screaming and running upstairs.

Seeing the twins' rush, you entered the kitchen, two backpacks in your hands and two stuffed monkeys hanging from your shoulders. As much as Sophia thinks it's great to see you in super sexy mom mode, she knows she has to scold you for giving the twins ice cream ahead of time.

"So, are kisses just for them? Or do I have one too?" Leaning in to give your wife a kiss, you missed the aim, making the kiss fall on Sophia's cheek, as she turned her face in the opposite direction.

"Not really, no kisses for mothers who do not comply with the other mother's orders." Sophia said, looking at you with that face you knew well, the one that gave you chills.

Already knowing that the twins would probably have snitched on you, you decided to go for the foolproof plan, puppy eyes. You knew you shouldn't give the twins ice cream, but they were so cute telling you the list of reasons why you should buy them ice cream.

"Baby, I'm sorry. But they were so cute with those little faces, I couldn't resist." You said, grabbing your wife's waist and making her look at you.

"You have to be tougher on them, Yn." Sophia said, putting her hands on the back of your neck.

"Sorry…" You said, kissing the Filipina on the cheek and hoping that would get you out of the punishment.

"All right." Sophia said, still with a warning look on her face. "But next time you don't escape me."

Shaking your head and with a smile on your face, you kissed Sophia. Your lips fitting perfectly and your tongues fighting for the dominance of the kiss. With one swift movement, you picked Sophia in your lap, placing her on the counter. Feeling your kisses on her neck, Sophia moaned lightly, covering her mouth with one hand so as not to make too much noise.

"Sophia." You called, as you went down your kisses around her neck.

"Say it, baby."

"Sophia." Stopping the kisses, Sophia looked into your eyes, only to see the smile on your face, before you whispered again. "Wake up!" Stunned, Sophia woke up in a jump, seeing you standing next to her on the bed. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, Sophia narrowed her eyes, the digital clock reading 02:34 in the morning.

"Baby, we have a problem."

Continues…

Hello guys, are you okay?

as I said, I really miss Fam out, so I decided to release a preview of what's to come.

This kind of happens in one of the chapters of Fam Out, which I'm still going to release, but I wanted to give you this background.

Any idea of what will happen ahead?

Stay safe and drink water

fam out masterlist

Xoxo, spider

[lostintransist]

Hell's Spawn | It Means Fuck Off

I wasn't planning on posting this yet but I need some feel good chemicals going in my brain before I give my professor the award for being the single most unhelpful teacher I have ever had in my entire life. Mans is actively making my life harder and not easier.

CW: Mommy issues, lots of negative self talk, general staring at women's bodies even though they just want to be left alone.

Trading shifts, what a simple way to alter the course of one’s life. Something akin to missing a train or a flight delay causing you to miss a connection, some exterior force course correcting you to where you need to be.

Leaning on one elbow on the stainless steel counter studying your text book you can feel your brain melting in your skull. Being a fourth-year medical student had taught you that while one could get a fever hot enough to “cook” the brain in the skull it wouldn’t occur from studying for too long. The voice of your mother itched in the back of your mind, telling you to give up and move on, you’ll never be more than a whore.

That had always been her favorite insult to hurl at you. Puberty hit you like a truck from a number of your favorite animes, transporting you into a woman-like body over the course of one summer. You still had the stretch marks.

Your mother hated it and hated you. She would never say that though. The high-powered pick-me lawyer could never let it be known that the only love she had in her soul had to be provided by the attention of a man. Psych 101 had been an enlightening class. You had nearly decided to go for a psychiatric residency before the chemistry classes debased that idea in your head.

When residency was over and you were settled somewhere you had decided to find a therapist to help you unpack all the shit that your mother had endowed you with. Her snide comments, wool-encased bricks lobbed at you from her high tower where she held both the power and the autonomy to keep you a prisoner, pelted you even now despite the years and distance between you.

The only escape you had found had been concurrent and AP classes in high school and a scholarship to finish your bachelor’s degree in one year directly out of high school and across the country. You worked your ass off for a few years to be old enough to never need her money again and passed the MCAT on the first try. The local medical school had accepted you at twenty-six, an old maid in that first class filled with nineteen and twenty-year-olds. That is how you had landed at a late-night cafe as a barista. You took as little student loans as possible and that meant working late and rising early for classes.

Coming full circle, you had traded shifts with the owner. Lucky bitch had five of the hottest boyfriends who were also boyfriends you had everseen and the bitch was ace. All that luck wasted on someone who didn’t ride their boyfriends until they whimpered night after night after night. God, you needed to get laid.

She had told you when you agreed to switch though that a group would be coming in to use the private room around midnight. She had warned you not to be alarmed but they would all be covered head to toe and would pay with cash. What she had failed to mention is that all four men who would appear at midnight, like wraiths wrapped in darkness, is that they were fucking jacked. They were ripped. To be frank you weren’t sure how any of them put shirts on or how the fabric didn’t rip like they were Bruce Banner turning green. Every one of them wore a surgical mask.

They all stepped to the counter, menacing vibes a miasma that eddied around them. Several patrons were scattered about the space, in quiet conversation or the clacking of keyboard keys, offering the illusion of safety. Aiming a well-trained smile any customer-facing worker would recognize at the men you greeted them.

“Hi welcome in, what can I get started for you?”

The tallest, broadest one, scanned the menu before glancing down. The demons in your mind began howling when instead of landing on your face his gaze landed firmly on the shadows of your cleavage peaking above the edge of your shirt. You had forgotten you had agreed to this shift until it was too late to change into the high-necked band tees you normally wore. The soundtrack of self-hate had always been easier to ignore if you could avoid drawing attention to your body.

“Four large black coffees, sugar and cream on the side.”

No please, no thank you. Fine, whatever wouldn’t be the last person tonight even that wouldn’t treat you with the same respect a wandering cat would receive.

“And you want all of those hot?” You tap away at the screen as you wait for his answer.

“Yes.” His voice should be much lower than it is, but it is still pleasant on the ear. The curl of his tongue around the words tells you English was not learned at his mother’s breast.

“Okay, your price is pulling up, this system slows down after midnight.” You roll your eyes at it, “If you give me a moment I can get that ready for you and let you into the room you have reserved.” You catch sight of the one with blue eyes that burn trailing those selfsame irises down one collarbone, to the bunching of skin, and then trailing back up to the other side.

The sniping words, whore, bitch, no good wench, nothing more than pussy, tits, and a mouth, fly through your mind, debris in the storm picking up speed. Grown and a world away her words still cut at you like glass.

Four hot coffees are settled on the counter as you count out change and return it to a leather-gloved hand. Did he have to buy specialty gloves to ensure that they fit?

The third man shifted his head toward you from behind his sunglasses before turning back to observe the room. A smudge of black hair peeked from below his hat.

Carrying the key along with several packets of sugar in your apron pocket and the carafe of creamer you can feel the fourth man’s eyes digging into your spine directly above your bra strap. No skin had been visible on him since the moment they entered the shop. That level of dedication impressed something in you.

You would have stayed impressed except the man couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Unlocking the door you stepped aside and let the men trail in, careful to keep your back to the wall by the premise of holding the door open with your foot. Once everyone found a seat you set the creamer on the table and turned to leave.

The completely covered one caught your wrist, fiddling with the ties of your bracelet. A friend had given it to you last Christmas when your mother had tried to reach out to ‘mend fences’. Turns out she was getting married again and her fiance wanted to meet the prodigal daughter.

The dainty silver beads pressed into your flesh as he dragged a thumb over them.

“What’s all this about? From a lover?”

The accent on his words tickles your senses. Then the understanding of his question settles home.

Customer service mode leaves your face and body, the bitch your mother always claimed you to be coming out.

“It reads fuck off,” you wrench your hand from his grip and slam the door shut behind you. When you settle back in the kitchen you fire off a text to your boss.

<Heads up, ended up snapping at one of your special customers.

Next, you fire off a message to Quinn, seeing if he could come in a half hour early so you didn’t have to close alone if the layered lechers stayed until closing.

Quinn confirmed he could be in early.

The parade from the conference room occurred as Quinn was arriving, leaving him to hold the door open for them as they passed. Closing duties went faster with Quinn collecting all the dishes for cleaning and you were home and in bed, books prepped for class in the morning on the table.

You woke a few hours later to a reply from your boss.

>Whatever you did they probably deserved it. You know I will back you 100%. But John says they seemed to like you better for snapping.

If you didn’t have to rush to avoid being late for your eleven am class you would have rolled your eyes. They liked being snapped at, that you were mean to them? Yeah, right.

Hell Masterlist | Masterlist

@demothers-empty-blog @beloveds-embrace (boo I hope you like your surprise.)

[mrspiastri]

mehendi lagake rakhna!

pairing: oscar piastri x desi!reader

genre: pure fluff, slightly suggestive at parts but nothing tooo crazy lol

wc: 1.8k

“Oscar, don’t tell me you haven’t practiced your steps! The sangeet is tonight!” Y/N’s cousins were simply frustrated with her dear boyfriend, who could not seem to dance to save his life and had also forgotten to practice the night before.

“I didn’t think it’d be so difficult! These steps are way too hard,” he protested, looking around for his girlfriend, who was seated among some ladies while she got her mehendi done. Apparently, being a bridesmaid at her cousin’s wedding included entertaining the many aunties and listening in on all their gossip

“Baby, are you aware of how mean your cousins are?” he huffed as he sat next to her.

“I told you to practice last night, but someone was too busy sampling the different kulfi flavors at the buffet.”

The man made a sound of indignation, then looked at Y/N’s palms, which were being adorned with a beautiful design.

“How does it look? Nice, na?” she asked while admiring her own hands.

Oscar agreed with a nod and a soft smile. She turned to look at him.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got a game for you! Your name’s written on my palm—it’s designed into my mehendi! You need to find it!” She giggled, and even the artist smiled at him.

“Really? Well, it should be rather easy. My name’s not very long.”

She winked at him. “That’s what you think. Just you wait!”

“He has another thing to worry about, Y/N!” her mum called out, coming to place her palm on Oscar’s back. They both laughed, with Y/N letting out a “Amma, don’t tease him!”

“Why do I need to worry about that?” he asked as the women laughed.

“Well, there’s this old saying: the darker a woman’s mehendi comes out, the more her husband loves her, so you better hope it’s dark, or else…” Y/N threatened him as her mother quietly laughed.

“But we aren’t married, darling. How’s that fair?”

Hearing this, her mother let out a huff. “You two are basically married. The specifics don’t matter.”

He let out a groan of faux annoyance. “You find the most wonderful ways to get me in trouble, don’t you?” He rolled his eyes while peering into her mehendi, trying to spot his name before she elbowed him away.

“You can only find it after it’s dried. Now go and practice your steps—you’re in the first line with me during Kajra Re.”

“What’s that now?”

“Just go and practice, you idiot.” She laughed at him as he ran away, fearing how much he would be yelled at for being a bad dancer.

🪷🪷🪷

“There we go, nice and easy. Now let’s get the next one.”

Y/N’s brother had been at work moving up and down the venue, helping out with small jobs like moving tables, carrying in suitcases, and asking the guests if they had eaten or not. Somehow, he managed to rope Oscar into helping, and help he did, eager to get away from the evil dancing bridesmaids.

After many attempts at trying to move a table, her brother said, “Mate, you need to help me lift this. It won’t budge.”

But before Oscar could do anything, he heard Y/N’s voice calling out to him from across the open ground where the mehendi function was happening.

“You better go. She doesn’t like to wait,” her brother said, chuckling.

“Don’t I know it? Coming, babe!”

“There you are. Look, I need your help. The bride’s uncle and his family are coming in from the airport. She sent someone to pick them up, and I need to call them and check if they’re on their way.”

“Okay, so do it,” he said, looking at her quizzically.

She rolled her eyes. “Osc, I’ve got to let the mehendi dry—I can’t really touch anything. Be a darling and reach into my pocket and take it out for me, please.”

She turned her hip slightly to the side, to where her pocket was, her hands in the air, carefully held up to make sure she didn’t smudge her henna.

“Yeah, of course,” he said as he reached around her waist, reaching for her phone.

It was only then he realized just how close she was standing to him. Her beige lehenga and blouse, showing off her midriff, with her hair cascading beautifully down her shoulders. She smelled heavenly, like she always did, with hints of vanilla and cocoa butter.

He then made the mistake of looking down at her, his face tinted with a shade of pink similar to hers. Y/N’s eyes were focused on him, and in that moment, it dawned on her that she hadn’t really noticed how handsome Oscar looked that day. Wearing a simple cream kurta with his sleeves rolled up and his token slightly messy hair, he looked effortlessly perfect.

It took a lot of self-control for her not to kiss him in that moment. They stared at each other for a while, neither moving, until eventually the sound of someone calling out his name was heard.

“Oscar! Need you to help with the tables, mate.”

Her brother, as usual, coming in clutch to be the cockblocker.

Y/N grit her teeth in annoyance, and Oscar finally remembered he had to take her phone out. He fumbled with it for a second before dialing and dealing with the contact she asked him to.

He held the phone to her ear till she finished speaking, and then put the phone back in her pocket.

“Thanks, babe. Now run along before someone else yells out for you.”

🪷🪷🪷

It’s the evening of the sangeet, and Oscar’s long hours of practice (read: 1 hour and 13 minutes) were finally going to be tested.

The guests were all seated, and Oscar felt a pang of nervousness, similar to the kind he felt waiting for the lights to go out at a Grand Prix. Y/N felt his anxiety and reached for his hand, gently squeezing it to alleviate his stress. He smiled and squeezed it back, and before he knew it, the opening tunes to the song Ainvayi Ainvayi began to play.

He managed to remember the steps, almost missing one before he got back on track. They danced to a few more songs before coming to the final one—and the most important—Kajra Re.

The two of them were placed front and center, with everyone able to see them. He saw her parents and grandparents in the crowd, along with her cousins, who whistled as they took their places on the stage.

The nervousness seeped in again, with the worry of having to impress her family. But Y/N leaned in, whispering to him, “You’re going to kill it, hon. Trust me.”

“What if I don’t?” he whispered back.

“Well, then I’ll mess my steps too. Then we can look dumb together.”

“That’s difficult to believe—you’re a good dancer,” he quipped.

“Leave it to me. I’ll fumble so bad we’ll have to hide out in our hotel room.”

They laughed, just as the music started. And believe it or not, Oscar killed it.

It turned out Y/N’s relatives were so excited to see the Australian dance to the Bollywood songs that they didn’t seem to mind if he messed up a few steps. They hooted and cheered, with their volume increasing at the final step, where Oscar pulled Y/N toward him and dipped her back dramatically.

The audience thoroughly enjoyed the performance, but for Oscar, everything else was drowned out. The only thing he focused on was his girlfriend, looking up at him with admiration and all the love she could conjure in a single look.

She mouthed, “Told you!” a triumphant smile on her face. He laughed, unable to argue with her words.

🪷🪷🪷

“That was some performance, you two!” Y/N’s dad complimented the couple as they ate—or rather, as Y/N ate while Oscar fed her.

It turns out being a bridesmaid doesn’t just mean you get to take cute photos and plan a bachelorette party; it also means you have a lot of work to do to make the bride’s life easier. She’d been running around post-performance, and Oscar had finally managed to catch a hold of her and sit her down.

“You’ve gotta eat something. The last thing you ate was a tea sandwich at 5:30,” he said firmly.

“I’m too busy to eat, Osc. I’ve got a lot of phone calls to make to the vendors for tomorrow’s haldi ceremony,” she mumbled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help out with it. For now, just sit down and let me get some food into your body,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

And that’s how they got here, with him feeding her a spoonful of biryani as she leaned back in her chair.

“Well, thankfully I had a good group of teachers,” Oscar said, motioning toward the other bridesmaids, who laughed at his compliment.

“Kanmani, why are you forcing the poor boy to feed you?” her father asked, using the affectionate nickname he had for his daughter.

“I’m too tired to eat, Appa. He’s forcing me to,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the rice still in her mouth.

“Well, at least we know you’re in good hands. Isn’t she?” her father said, nudging his wife.

“Oh yes, the very best. You’ve got your work cut out for you, kanna,” her mother added, making the entire table laugh.

Oscar leaned in and whispered into Y/N’s ear, “What did she call me now?”

Y/N smiled and replied, “She called you kanna. It’s like a term of endearment. She doesn’t even use it for my brother, so you should feel special.”

Oscar’s face lit up at the explanation, glad to feel so accepted and welcomed by her family. He grinned at her and fed her another spoonful of rice.

🪷🪷🪷

“By the way, I found my name,” Oscar said suddenly, making Y/N look up at him in confusion, only to notice him staring at her palms.

“Did you now? Where is it, then?” she challenged, her brow raised playfully.

He pointed to her left hand’s ring finger, where a small but clearly visible “Oscar” was designed into her mehendi.

“You’re good at this,” she said, impressed. “I asked her to make it super hard to find.”

They both laughed, and then he added, “I’ve got something for you to see, although mine isn’t as difficult to spot.”

He pulled out his palm and faced it upward, revealing the mehendi he had secretly gotten done. The design was simple but heartfelt. On his palm, Y/N’s name was written boldly and clearly, surrounded by small hearts.

She gasped at the sight, catching the attention of the rest of the table. Realizing what the matter was, everyone cheered, thoroughly enjoying how enthusiastically Oscar was partaking in their culture.

“You’re so adorable. I can’t believe you got this done—I didn’t even notice!”

“Well, you’d be surprised at how sneaky I am, darling.”

“Is that so?” she teased, grinning.

“Why yes, yes it is. Now, how about we go get some kulfi? I’ve been craving it since last night.”

She laughed, standing up and taking his hand as they walked away from the table, their laughter echoing through the festive evening.

🪷🪷🪷

this was my first attempt at writing smth lol, lmk your thoughts, and if you’d like me to continue with this. xoxo 🩷 (also yes i made the reader tamilian in this bc i like to shamelessly self insert haha)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 61

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,490ish

Summary: Laura seems to be moving on with her life and you aren't taking it well.

Notes: Please share reactions! 

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Wade sat in the library in the TVA where all the files where kept. B-15 walked over and dropped all the files on you and your variants on the table.

“You know, for an all powerful agency, you sure are behind the times,” Wade commented, eyeing the paper files. “Maybe I can do you a solid and also digitize these?”

“We’re not looking for that, Mr. Wilson,” B-15 responded. “These files are not to leave this library and, trust me, we will know if they do.”

“Don’t worry, if these files don’t have anything useful, I won’t be taking anything from them.”

B-15 sighed. “Good luck, Wade. I hope you find something that could help Y/N. She deserves an easier life.”

Wade nodded as B-15 left and he focused in on the files. “Okay, let’s see what we can find to save my Buttercup.”

~~~

You didn’t believe Logan when he told you that Wade was off on some mission the X-Men recruited him to be on. He had clearly forgotten that a younger version of you was with the X-Men right now. But you didn’t question it. Though you were beginning to worry as it had now been weeks since you’d last seen him and your life was much quieter currently.

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Laura called, bounding out of her room and down the hall.

“What’s going on, kiddo?” You asked as you wiped your hands off on your apron. 

“I got in!”

“What?” You felt like your heart stopped.

“I got into Columbia!”

“Oh my gosh, Laura!” You quickly brought her into a crushing hug as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. So proud.”

She pulled away slightly. “Mom, please don’t cry.”

“Can’t help it. I’m just so proud that you’re my daughter. When do you start?”

“Actually, there’s a few half semester classes I’m interested in and I already contacted my counselor and they said I could start next week.”

“Next week?” That had you wanting to cry harder, but you held back.

“Yeah! Oh, and I got a job on campus that will allow me to put money towards tuition and give me a little scholarship.”

Your world was spinning faster now. “And when do you start that?”

“I’m actually going to get ready and head there.”

“Laura… how long have you known about all this? There’s no way this all happened today.”

Laura sighed. “I’m sorry, mom. I guessed that you might have a hard time so I made sure I had everything in order before telling you.”

It made you ache to hear that she was worried about you, especially knowing that she was right. “No matter what, I’m still proud of you, but next time please just tell me.”

“Okay, mom. Sorry.”

You pressed out a smile. “It’s okay. Go get ready.”

~~~

You could feel your powers tingling beneath your skin as you paced the living room. You were anxious with the fact that Laura didn’t feel like she could tell you everything and the fact that she was growing up and moving on. Laura has been your whole world for years now and now she was growing up to take care of herself. What would you do now?

“Hey, doll,” Logan greeted. He had gotten off of work, cleaned up, and was coming over to see if he could help you with dinner. “What— Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“No,” a sob tore through your throat causing Logan to quickly move in front of you.

“What’s going on?”

“My daughter’s growing up and I don’t know what to do.”

“Where is she?”

“Working. Just got a job without telling me. Got accepted to college without telling me. All because she was worried about how I’ll react and now I’m over here proving her right!” Flames shot up your arms.

“Woah!” Logan threw his hands up. “Okay, breathe, darlin’.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, lungs feeling like they were on fire.

Logan’s hands grasped your arms, ignoring the flames as they burned him. “Yes, you can. Follow me.”

“She’s— she’s growing up— she’s been— my whole world— what do I do now?”

“Oh, doll. You’re still her mom. Always will be. And you’ve done a fantastic job in raising her. But it’s time to start focusing on yourself.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to be alone… I wasn’t supposed to be alone.””

“You’re not alone, you have me. Always. But I need you to try to calm down. You’re hurtin’ yourself and I can’t handle that.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

“I know, I know. How can I make it better?”

“Just… don’t… leave…”

Logan shook his head. “Never, darlin’. You’re stuck with me. Follow me. Deep breath in, deep breath out.”

Logan and you began to take deep breaths together. Yours were shaky and broken by the sobs than had now become hiccups. Logan kept his eyes locked on your eyes, wanting you to understand that he wasn’t going anywhere. As your breathing calmed, so did your flames, revealing that both of your arms were burnt. The pain hit as soon as the final flame was extinguished. Your knees buckled but Logan quickly caught you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered as he picked you up. “I’ve got you.”

Logan carried you to the bathroom and set you on the counter. He quickly grabbed the burn cream and wraps. You cried softly as he worked carefully to take care of your injuries. Whenever a whine or whimper would slip past your lips, Logan would pause.

“You’re doing so good, darlin’,” he would say softly. “You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you.”

You tried to take his words to heart as he continued to take care of your burns. But the insecurities still slipped in. “I hate this…” you murmured. “I hate that my emotions control my powers… that my healing is too slow… I hate being weak.”

“You are not weak.” Logan couldn’t stand it when you talked badly about yourself, ever, but especially now with his emotions rapidly growing for you.

You scoffed. “Right now, I feel pretty weak.”

Logan finished up getting the wrap fastened before gently taking your chin and forcing you to look at him. “You’re not weak. You do not get to speak badly about yourself anymore, got it? Especially when it’s lies comin’ out of your mouth.” The seriousness that was shining through Logan’s eyes, had your heart stopping for a moment. “No more lies about yourself.”

All you could muster up was a swallow and a nod. Logan’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek. His thumb lightly brushed against your skin. 

“Do you need any meds?” He whispered, doing his best to keep you tethered to the moment because he could see that your energy was fading.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“Alright. I’m going to get you into bed and then I’ll bring you some meds.”

“I don’t want to go to bed. I’ll stick to the couch, just… no bed, please.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you want.”

Logan carefully carried you out to the couch and handed you a blanket before rushing to get some water and medicine for you. You quickly took them when he came back.

“Stay with me,” you requested. “We can turn on a show or something… I just don’t want to be alone.” 

“Of course,” Logan replied, grabbing the remote and sitting next to you. “Here.” He offered you the remote.

You shook your head. “Just put on something, I don’t care.”

“What’s your favorite show?” You told him what it was and where to find it. Logan turned on the first episode and glanced over at you. He noticed that you hadn’t placed the blanket over you yet. “Do you, uh, not want the blanket? I just assumed since—“

“No, no, I do. My hands are just hurting.”

He reached over and laid out the blanket over you. “All you need to do is ask and I will help you.”

“I know… thank you.”

He’s lips lifted up in a slight smile. “Anytime… I, uh… Do you, um… Well…”

“Lo,” you lightly laughed. “Just spit it out.”

You had been calling him ‘Lo’ a lot more lately. He didn’t think he liked nicknames until you started using them. Now, it made his heart soar to hear you call him that.

“Dinner,” he finally said. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“We can just order in,” you stated. 

“I don’t mind. Besides, Laura should be home soon and she’ll need food.”

“I can help—“

“No,” Logan stood up. He gently grabbed your shoulders and maneuvered you to lay down on the couch. “Rest. I can handle a little cooking. And let me know if you need anything, doll.”

The tv show quickly went ignored as you watched Logan work in your kitchen. He cooked with such an awkward ease, if that was even something one could do. You couldn’t help but think how handsome he looked as he worked. The thought quickly took you by surprise and you shook it off. It was only because he looked like your husband… right?

Logan’s hands were trembling slightly as he felt your eyes on him. He had been hoping that you’d rest and let him embarrass himself in the kitchen in peace. Seemed like that wasn’t going to happen though. Logan tried to ignore your gaze and seem confident as he continued to work. 

Minutes passed and eventually you fell asleep due to the exhaustion of your flames and your body taking forever to heal. Logan kept working, knowing that your body needed fuel to help continue healing though he knew that it would take a week or two for your burns to disappear and leave scars behind. He turned away from the stove for a brief moment, only for the food in the pan to quickly catch on fire.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed.

You woke up as Logan tried to put out the flames, yet failed. The flames seemed to only grow bigger when his attempts. As quick as you could, you got off the couch and headed for the kitchen.

“Mom?” Laura called as she entered the apartment, immediately on alert at the smell of smoke. “Mom!”

You waved your hand, extinguishing the flames. You gasped as the amount of energy that took from you. Your knees buckled causing Laura to leap over to you and hold you up.

“Mom!” She exclaimed, taking in your full appearance. 

“Y/N!” Logan fretted as he saw how weak you had quickly gotten.

“What the hell did you do?” Laura glared at Logan.

“I—I—I was just cooking dinner and the pan caught on fire.”

“That doesn’t explain why she has bandages up her arms!”

“I’m… I’m… fine…” you tried to tell her, panting through every word. 

Your knees buckled again and Logan’s arms hurried out to help you but Laura pulled you away.

“Get out,” she ordered.

“Laura,” you rasped.

“Get out!” She repeated, yelling at the man in front of her.

“It was an accident, Laura,” Logan tried to explain. “I was just trying to—“

“I don’t fucking care! Leave! Get out!”

You could see that Logan felt guilty when his gaze met yours. You wanted to reach out and comfort him and to tell Laura that nothing was his fault, but you didn’t have the energy.

“Come on, mom,” Laura said as lifted you up and carried you down the hall to your room.

Logan watched with sad eyes until you both disappear into your room. Then he got to cleaning up the mess that he had made in your kitchen. Laura tucked you into bed, making sure that you were all settled before closing the door and going back out to the living area.

“I told you to get out,” Laura fumed.

“I’m just cleaning up the kitchen,” Logan mumbled. “Then I’ll go.”

“You’ve done enough for today. I told you not to hurt her, that includes her powers.”

“I know.” 

Logan wasn’t going to argue with Laura on this. He knew that he had caused the drain in your energy with the kitchen fire. He also knew that Laura was mostly talking about the bandages on your arms and he wasn’t going to tell her that she was the main cause of those. She didn’t need that guilt on her. He would take that for her.

“Just get out, Logan,” Laura stated again. “I can handle it.”

Logan sighed, knowing it wasn’t worth fighting her on this. He glanced down the hall, staring at the door he knew you were behind. “Please let me know if either of you need anything.”

“We won’t.”

Logan left the apartment and Laura quickly locked the door behind him.

~~~

Laura stayed at your side all night after the kitchen was cleaned. When you finally woke, she was right there with water and medicine.

“Here,” Laura offered to you. “Take it.” You didn’t argue, letting her help you sit up and take the meds. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Laura,” you replied. “I am worried about Logan though. Where is he?”

“I kicked him out.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yes, I should have. Just look at your arms, mom!”

“He didn’t cause what happened to my arms. It was me… I was upset and lost control. He found me like that and helped me through it.”

“Upset? What were you upset about?”

“That you’re growing up.”

Laura’s heart dropped. “Mom, I—“

“It’s fine, kiddo. None of it’s your fault. It’s just me realizing that my daughter is no longer my little girl and I have to let you go be the wonderful woman that I know you are.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s really not your fault.”

“I was so mean to Logan. I kicked him out.”

“It’s okay. It was all a misunderstanding. He’ll be okay.”

Laura nodded, taking a moment to think. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything, kiddo.”

“Do you… uh… what… well, I guess, just… do you have feelings for Logan?”

That question caught you completely off guard. “I— I— like as a friend?”

“Yes and… do you like him more than that?”

“I… I don’t know…”

Laura nodded. “I’m just asking because I want you to be happy, mom, and it seems like he makes you happy.”

She wasn’t wrong. Your happiest moments since returning to 2024 had been with this new Logan. But that didn’t been you had feelings for him, right?

“He has been making me happy, yes… and he’s taking good care of me.”

“You don’t need to admit anything to me, especially right now, but just think about it. Take notice of it. Logan seems to care about you a lot and willing to do anything for you—for us.”

You nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind… Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, mom.”

next chapter >

[rekino2114]

I getcha, let’s try this. Basic comfort headcanons for Makima?

the horsemen girls comforting you

A/n:I'm gonna fuse these two requests with something I had in mind for a while. Also thanks to everyone who requested I'm gonna save the requests and do them whenever i'm having another bad day

Makima

You loved being a devil hunter. You really did. Despite the love of your life being a devil herself,the idea of ridding the world from humanity's fears was a noble cause that you loved doing, it also helped that makima was your boss.

But like every job, it had downsides. Luckily, ever since makima fully decided to help humanity, many devils weren't as powerful so your colleagues died less often, and with how strong you were (mostly because of contracts you did with makima) you could protect them if they ever got into mortal danger. But that made the times when they died even more heartbreaking, the thought that you could have saved them disturbed you a lot when it happened and made everything weigh heavier in your mind.

And unfortunately today was one of those days.

"Is everything alright darling?"

You sighed and looked towards makima, her yellow eyes almost compelling you to answer

"Yeah don't worry"

"Are you sure? You've been acting weirdly ever since you returned from the mission"

"It's nothing please, I'm ok"

You turned away from her and started to walk, but she stopped you by putting her hand on your shoulder

"Please darling, I love you, I've known you for long enough to know when you're sad, you can talk to me about anything, and I mean anything, I won't judge you or anything, If you need me I'm here"

Her voice was so sweet and soft, and when you looked back to her, she was offering you a sweet smile, you sighed again and hugged her, a gesture she was more than happy to reciprocate

"Thanks makima, I don't know what I'd do without you"

"It's nothing puppy, it's the least I could do"

After you two stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, makima guided you to the couch and put your head on her chest, beginning to stroke your hair

"Can you tell me what happened?"

You told her everything that happened on the mission as she nodded understandigly

"I'm sorry to hear that darling, is the devil you fought still around?"

"No I killed it"

"That's good, I would have destroyed it for making you sad otherwise"

"Thanks"

"Like I said, it's nothing, I'd do anything for you. Now how about we order some food and cuddle, then we can take a bath together to relax"

"I'd....Like that, thank you"

"Oh and don't worry about going to work tomorrow, I'll give us a full week of time off to help you recover"

"......You're the best makima"

"No, you're the best my love, I'm just repaying you for the love you give me"

Yoru

School sucks. That was not news to you, as it wasn't to any student ever.

You had just gotten a bad grade in a test. The worst part is that you actually studied for it, you didn't expect a great grade, but at least a good one would have greatly helped you and your self esteem, you could feel all the stares of your classmates judge you even if they didn't say anything, you felt embarrassed, pissed and sad, you wanted nothing more than to be hugged and luckily you knew the perfect "person" for that.

"Oh, hi y/n, what's up?"

"Hi asa"

Asa let you in her house, and you sat on the bed before looking at her a bit embarrassed

"Can you... let yoru out?"

"Uh? Why?"

"I.....need some comfort"

"Oh yeah, I get it, I guess I could, just don't let her.....kill anyone"

"I'll try my best"

"That's.....not really reassuring"

"Sorry I'm just not feeling my best"

"OK sorry"

Asa sat in front of you and closed her eyes, when she opened them again, they were yellow and ringed, and scars appeared all over her face.

Yoru stretched and took off her hair tie, moving her head to free her hair even more

"Fucking finally, that girl didn't let me out for at least a week, you have an idea how boring it gets in her mind?"

"..............."

"So who is it?"

"What?"

"Who do I have to kill?"

"No one"

"Nope, I do, whoever made you sad is on my hit list"

"I-"

"Maybe I should make them a spear or a sword, a claymore would be cool, I take requests by the way. What's your favorite weapon?"

"Yoru, please can you leave the killing part for now, I just need comfort"

"Comfort like......."

"Cuddles preferably"

Yoru sighed and looked at you. In her time of having you as a boyfriend, she had learned to appreciate human affection and even crave it sometimes, not that she'd ever admit it. So at your request she simply opened her arms and hugged you before resting on the bed

"Just so you know I'm still gonna kill someone later, this is just because you asked for it"

"I guess that's one of the reasons I love you'

"....I love you too, and don't be sad, I'm here for you if you ever need to talk, just ask asa to let me out more often"

"....yeah definitely, thank you"

Fami

"Y/n, you haven't touched your sandwich, are you OK?"

After finishing school, your girlfriend brought you to a restaurant to eat and talk about anything that you wanted. However in the middle of your date she began to notice you acting weird

"Yeah.....don't worry"

Fami looked at you with what everyone else would have thought was an emotionless face but you could see the concern in her eyes

"Did something happen at school?"

"H-how did you know?"

"Because I know you, please tell me what happened"

You felt her hand wrap around you under the table and her gaze soften

"I.....it's stupid I just took a bad grade"

"Oh I see.......that doesn't matter"

"Huh?"

"You shouldn't let that influence your emotions, it's something that happens to everyone, I won't judge you for that and so should no one else"

"Oh.....thanks"

"But if you still upset about that, then I can help you"

She asked the waiter to put the remaining food in a box and held your hand to go outside of the restaurant

"Where are we going?"

"To get ice cream, I've heard it's the food that human eat when they are said, is it true?"

"Yeah I guess"

"Then Let's go"

"But I think spending time with you is what's gonna cheer me up the most"

"I'm glad.......I'm sorry that I seem indifferent sometimes, but I really, really love you always, you can count on me"

"Don't worry, I know, I love you too so much"