#but hey nothing wrong with being a basic bitch

[vantablackdraws]

Hello, vantablackdraws! Do you have any other favorite pairs from Guilty Gear or other works? if it's not difficult for you, can you tell us about them and how you liked them? How do you see the dynamics between these characters?

That's certainly a tall order of an ask my friend... well let's see, for Guilty Gear pairings, I also like:

Chaos and Daryl: I think Daryl can sorta play at his level and therefore possibly beat him at his own game so to speak. I mean he had Chaos convinced that he was a coffee addict only to be revealed he didn't like coffee. I think Chaos would find him interesting. Plus that line "It's so boring here, I shoulda kept Daryl at least." hmmmmmmmmm

Chipp and Answer: Changing Answer's life for the better and from a situation he was similarly in before aside, Chipp is also kind of a dumbass (a very competent one, mind you, but still). And Answer having the energy of "I would literally kill for you but Jesus Christ you drive me insane-" is funny to me. You got a lot of potential for tender/more serious moments as well as some comedy in there.

Axl and I-No: I don't really know a lot about them outside of Strive and some other lore but every time I think about them I get kinda sad, because it feels like Sol and Jack-o except if it doesn't work out. Like the whole "do you love me for who I am, or because I remind you of someone you used to love?" dilemma (plus I-No's whole doomed situation adding an extra pinch of angst-)

Nagoryuki and Testament: Tbh I'm unsure on whether I like this one romantically or more platonically, maybe I'll just keep it vague because I like that. But I think they have a lot of potential based on their arcade interactions and their similar history. Testament understands what it's like to be controlled against your will, or as they (roughly) put it, "I know what it's like to carry yourself like some sort of demon". I think they could also bring out Nago's more lighthearted and playful side (the dad jokes), maybe they could drink tea and go on long walks, just take time to appreciate life again together as two semi-immortal(?) beings. I think that would be nice.

Aaaand the other ships I also like are KyDizzy, RoboVenom, Mayburi, JohnnyTess, SolJacko, and AbaCelsus. They're just nice <3

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

—CUPID IS SO DUMB!

synopsis ; everyone says that they would be a terrible person to date, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

ft ; kenma kozume, osamu miya

cw ; afab!reader, swearing

now playing ; cupid by fifty fifty

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄

kenma was basically the joke of your school. sure, he was on the volleyball team, and they had made it to nationals, but he was…well, he was practically just begging to flip burgers for the rest of his life.

he was a video game addict, had no friends outside of the volleyball team, and probably never went outside in his free time. sure, he had decent grades, but nowadays, unless you’re in the top 10% of the grade, a good college surely won’t accept you.

no one in their right mind would date him, right? he wasn’t even that good looking either. short, monstrous posture, long and unkept hair…who in their right mind would date someone like him?

right, who would ever date him?

who would ever date him?

who would—

…

you would.

you never really saw anything wrong with kenma. he wasn’t bad looking in your opinion; in fact, you found him cute. you enjoyed video games as well, so you would enjoy playing with someone else.

you weren’t the most popular at school either anyways, so you’ve always had the occasional thought of dating kenma. but your last straw was when the annoying bitches in your grade who didn’t know how to shut up finally declared that “both kenma and (y/n) are so weird and ugly! they’re never gonna get married.”

fuck it.

“hey, kozume.”

“hm?”

he didn’t look up from his console, but you could see the slight stiffening of his hands. “you wanna, uh, like, y’know…um, go out together sometime?”

kenma’s entire body froze, the console nearly dropping from his hands. he stayed silent, and for a moment, you almost regretted doing this. but you had to do this for your own self-satisfaction. “we can go to a video game store or something after school.”

“wuh— why?” finally, some sort of response. poor guy; you were definitely freaking him out. you silently apologized to him in your mind.

“you clearly like video games n’ stuff, and we’re both quiet, so we’re pretty similar already.” you fidgeted with your fingers, managing a small smile.

“…sure.”

was it only supposed to be a one-off thing just to spite the bothersome bitches in your grade? yes. but kenma was actually pretty good company at the game store, giving you recommendations—though he was still rather quiet.

one date turned to five. five dates turned to ten. ten dates turned to twenty. though most of them were netflix or video games and chill dates. before you knew it, you really had fallen for kenma. and now that you think about it, those people sure were idiots for refusing to date kenma, because he treats you better than their asshole boyfriends treat them.

“here.” kenma placed a plastic bag onto your desk, face hidden with his hair.

“what’s th—“ you opened the bag, and seeing a box inside, you opened the box and saw what was perhaps the most heavenly piece of apple pie you had ever seen. “KENMA! IS THIS FOR ME?!”

“yeah. you always forget to eat breakfast, and my mom made apple pie, so…” kenma shuffled his feet.

“you’re the best! i love you!”

and so the gossip went from the both of you never being able to find someone to the both of you being a cringy couple who wouldn’t last. bold of them to talk, considering how they have more hookups and relationships than you can count on both your fingers and toes.

but oh well. let’s see who has the last laugh now, when you have a husband who is a successful streamer and the ceo of the bouncing ball corps.

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀

you hated atsumu miya. that was a fact known to all. you were paired up with him once for a project, and he did absolutely nothing. he always claimed that he had volleyball practice, which was probably true, so you couldn’t blame him for that, but he was so self-centered. he only knew how to talk about himself. he was so annoying.

but the worst part? you knew fucking well that if he put in even a little bit of effort into the project, you both could have gotten a higher score than a 70. he was smart, no doubt about it, but lord was he annoying.

for a long time, you thought his twin osamu miya wasn’t much better. he was too nonchalant about everything, he only cared about food—which you could somewhat relate to, considering how you were a food lover as well—, and he doesn’t know how to properly discipline is annoying ass brother. handling him in a purely physical manner will not help atsumu’s behavior in the slightest.

and great, you were paired up with osamu for a project. at least unlike atsumu, osamu invited you over to his house in order to work on the project. you had been in his room, flipping through your notes feverishly to try and find something useful.

“want some dorayaki?” osamu asked, holding out the bread to you. your jaw dropped, stopping the flipping of pages for a few moments.

“you’re offering food? maybe you’re not a big back after all.”

“nah, this is tsumu’s. if you don’t want it, i’ll have it.” he said, nudging his head at atsumu’s desk right next to his. “he’s just dumb and he left it there on his desk.”

you laughed, taking the bread from his hand. “i take it that you’re not the most fond of your twin? well, i mean, clearly not considering how you beat him up all the time at school.”

“he’s still my brother. he’s an idiot though.”

although osamu wasn’t the brightest, you did get a much better grade on a project with him than his brother. plus, osamu was way funnier and had even offered you food. you know what, maybe he wasn’t nearly as bad as you had thought.

“want some?” osamu asked on a random day during lunch, holding out a large onigiri to you. “i made it, so i don’t really know if i can guarantee if it’s good or bad.”

you snatched the onigiri from his hand. “i literally love you so much.” you exclaimed. looks like the term ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ works with women too. “literally marry me.”

“oh wow.”

you weren’t thinking when you had declared such a thing when you both weren’t even dating, but osamu surely was. staring at you as you ate, he did think that it would be pretty nice being married to you.

at home, atsumu walked to the kitchen and gave osamu a sour look. “you’re such a simp. is your rizz literally just cooking? man, bro is down bad.”

“shut the fuck up, tsumu. you wish you have any rizz outside of your looks.” osamu snapped back, molding rice into a triangle shape and eating any excess rice left over.

well, osamu was right about making you fall for him through your stomach. because a few years later, you’re standing at the altar, shoving wedding cake into each other’s mouths.

[ice-eise-babyy]

Highlight | J.B.B

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: A single comment takes a toll at your self-confidence, unintentionally pushing bucky away.

Warnings: really fluffy, slight angst (so slight you won't even feel it), implied smut, Sharon (unintentionally) being a bitch, cursing (real brief)

A/N: loosely inspired by a real life event. I do request so please go slide in my asks. that's it. Happy reading!!

Bucky loved you.

Every atom, essence, and fiber of you, he loved. There was nothing about you that could change his perception of you.

He had learned to memorize every inch of you with his eyes closed; Using only his tongue, fingers, and lips. Making a mental map of each dip and curve, every scar and mole, and all of your smile lines and wrinkles. Not only that but also your whole being. He knew you so well that he could tell what you wanted— what you needed before you could even say it. It was like a telepathic connection...

That's why it didn't take him long to figure out that something was wrong.

It was never your intention to make Bucky worry.

It all started with a small comment...

You had just finished showering in the gym shower after your training. Your body was wrapped in a towel that was way too short for your liking. displaying the stretch marks on your outer thighs, making you chew the insides of your cheeks.

And as if it wasn't enough to make you self-conscious, "Woah... That's some marks you've got there y/n..." It was Sharon as she entered the gym shower. Sounding perplexed and repulsed by the sight.

"Yeah.." you said, masking the rising insecurity with a faux chuckle before getting the hell out of there.

You ignored the twisted feeling in your stomach and the lingering embarrassment her words had caused. Brushing it off and pretending like you weren't affected by it. But soon it was eating you up like mites on wood. Nipping and nibbling at the last bits of self-assurance that you have.

It was affecting you so much that you hadn't even noticed that you were starting to distance yourself from Bucky...

Bucky, knowing you better than he knows himself, immediately noticed this. He didn't miss how you'd flinch at his touch. he caught how you'd recoil and pull away whenever he sought a hug or a kiss. It didn't go over his head when you started wearing more layers than just his shirt.

Of course, he was worried... But he pushed the worries away thinking that maybe you were just tired...

Weeks went by, yet you continued to distance yourself from him. He didn't want to think about it too much or ask you about it, afraid that it would only push you further.

So he convinced himself that you just wanted a bit of space. Especially now that you were getting some actual rest since you were jam-packed with missions and meetings the previous month.

It wasn't until last night...

˚‧⁺  ･ ˖ ·˚ ⋆｡˚ ˚‧⁺

"Sure, thanks Steve..." You bid Steve goodbye as you got off the elevator, just now getting home from your first mission of the month.

You opened the door with ease, not wanting to make any noise as you entered your shared room with Bucky. Tiptoeing as you entered, concerned that you'd wake him up.

"Hey, doll..." Your whole body jolted as you heard him, his voice sounding hoarse with sleep.

You simply looked in his direction and gave him a lopsided smile,

Just a smile?

"Go to sleep..." You told him as you left him to shower...

He in fact did not go to sleep. He waited for you. Wanting to wrap his arms around you and kiss away your exhaustion from the mission.

"I told you to go to sleep, bucky." he looked in your direction, admiring how adorable you looked in his hoodie and some basic sweatpants.

"How can I?" He shrugged as if it was the most obvious question, "you're not here with me.." he added, extending his arms out for a hug.

You gulped, hesitating for a little while longer. Soon giving in as you saw the expecting look on his face. His slate blue eyes glimmered in the darkness as you walked over to him.

He sighed, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Burying his face in your clothed stomach as you stood there.

"I missed you," he nuzzled into you more, "so damn much." He said as he finally pulled away, looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes.

He wanted to stay like this with you. He needed to stay like this with you...

The pad of his fingers dug into your hips as his grip tightened, pulling you to his lap.

"I missed you too..." You said, your fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head...

It was like all your worries were thrown out the window as he held you by the neck and captured your lips with his. Kissing you with such need and longing. It was as if a huge wave of relief washed over you... Until his hands started exploring under your hoodie.

All your insecurities resurfaced as you recalled the marks that you were hiding under these layers of clothing. Sharon's words replaying in your head like a broken record.

No...

It was like your body was moving on its own accord. Your breathing lodged in your windpipe as you realized that you had unintentionally pushed him away... Your hands trembling as they hovered mid-air, a short distance away from his chest which you had just shoved away...

"I..." You started but it was like the words were caught in the back of your throat...

You felt guilt settling in the pit of your stomach as you saw the pain flickered amongst the flecks of navy in his eyes that Momentarily looked down before looking back at you, helping you off his lap.

One...

Breathe...

Two...

She's just tired...

Three...

Be understanding...

"It's... It's fine..." The reassurance tasted bittersweet on his lips, a tight-lipped smile decorating his features...

You felt like the knot of guilt in your stomach was about to snap as you didn't fail to notice how his smile didn't reach his eyes... Or how the inflection of his voice came across as insincere, strained, hurt...

He's hurt... Because of me...

He wasn't hurt, no.

Hurt was something a 3-year-old would say if he scraped his knee. Hurt was something a teenager felt when he got his heart broken from puppy love. Hurt is something minor. Something that can be easily cured with words...

This? This was neglect.

He felt neglected... He felt like you were drifting a bit too far...

Too far from him...

˚‧⁺  ･ ˖ ·˚ ⋆｡˚ ˚‧⁺

He has never been the type to openly talk about what he felt... But this— this thing you were doing? It was just unbearable... In ways that no simple words formed by letters could describe. And what's worst about this was it was you.

So, he ultimately decided that he had enough of it...

You were comfortably reading a book on the couch. The cap of your purple highlighter in between your lips as you highlight lines from your book with it. The bright color perfectly emphasizing your favorite parts.

A few other teammates were also in the living room. Respectfully busying themselves with whatever task they had at hand when suddenly, a very upset-looking bucky came storming into the living room with a scowl on his face.

"Let's talk. Now. In private." He snatched the book from your hand and tossed it on the coffee table automatically catching your attention

Confusion etched your face as you looked up at him, your knuckles turning white as your grip tightened around the highlighter.

"What are you—!" Your question abruptly interrupted, the world turning upside down as he threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

The rest of the team looked at one another with puzzled looks, watching you writhe as he walked away with you on his shoulder like a bag of rice.

"Bucky!" You squealed, thrashing against the super soldier while you repeatedly told him to put you down. The purple ink from the highlighter in your hand staining his white tank top.

"Talk." Was all you heard as you landed on the bed with a guttural 'oof'

"Rude!" He gave you an unamused look, crossing his arms as his gaze followed you as you propped yourself. Sighing as he saw that familiar pout on your lips.

"I'm worried about you..." You felt a shiver run down your spine as he walked towards you.

"What do you mean...?" You facepalmed mentally as your words came out trembling.

You were sweating, not wanting to talk about any of this any further. You already knew where this was going...

And you didn't like it...

"You're just..." He paused, looking for the right words, "You're not being you... And you—" he cut himself off, noticing how you moved away when he sat beside you. "You keep doing that"

"That? What's 'that'?"

"You keep distancing yourself from me..." You felt the guilt claw up your neck as you heard the way his voice sounded so defeated.

You never intended to worry him, and you never would want to. But looking at the situation at hand made you realize how much you got drowned by your self-doubt that you had been depriving him of the truth...

You felt torn as you sat there staring into the hazy silver hue in his blue eyes, the distress and yearning flickering in them.

You wanted to tell him about everything. You wanted to tell him how Sharon's words made your confidence falter. You wanted to show him why...

But it scared you...

The mere thought of his repulsed expression made your heart sink to your toes.

"I don't know if I've done something wrong. If I've said something you didn't like. If I had been too much. If you need space—"

"No! It's not like that..." Your eyes widened as his rambling slowly sunk into your skull,

He's blaming himself...?

"I just... It's..." He held your hand, soothing you through your anxious state...

He hated seeing you like this, he hated how much you were holding back, he hated how you were hesitating... But he was patient with you like he always is. Because he knew firsthand how hard it is to open up.

"Please... Please tell me.." you let out a shaky breath. Your fingers fiddled with the highlighter as you closed your eyes for a moment to collect yourself.

The moment you opened your eyes and witnessed the unshed tears gloss over his pretty eyes was the exact moment you figured that you had lost at whatever this was...

Your hands fidgeted with the highlighter as you told him everything he needed to know— from the stretch marks that had you questioning your self-worth to Sharon’s comment that rang in your ears like a constant reminder. You just laid it all out there, hoping he’d understand how much it had gotten to you. Even though you knew it still wasn't enough of an excuse for how you've treated him...

The tears prickled your eyes as they pooled; you felt so small. So vulnerable around him... Just how you liked it.

"I'm so proud of you for telling me doll..." The pad of his thumb swiping away the single tear that rolled down your face...

"Can I see...?" You looked at him with wide eyes, why would he want to see such a sight?

"James..." His name slipped from your lips as a hesitant whisper, but your thoughts became a jumbled mess when he suddenly got off the bed and kneeled in front of you, looking up at you with those big blue eyes...

"Please...?" He pleaded, removing the highlighter before holding your hands in his.

Your man was literally on his knees for you, his eyes wide with hope and vulnerability, like he was silently begging for an answer. His voice was so full of genuine longing and yearning. How could you say no to that? At that moment, with your heart swelling, saying anything but yes felt impossible.

You meekly nodded and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning, beaming with a grin.

Goosebumps formed on your skin as you felt his hands twisting with the waistband of your pajama shorts. He looked up at you as though to ask for permission so you granted it with another nod. You lifted your hips for him to fully remove them.

Suddenly,you felt the insecurity clawing at your neck; feeling exposed and just... Bare as you sat there in just your tank top and underwear. Displaying parts of your body that only he had the privilege of seeing.

You pressed your knees together, knowing that the marks only get worse around the insides of your thighs...

Bucky didn't like this... But he had more than one way to keep those legs spread for him...

"So pretty..." he murmured, his voice soft and full of admiration as his hand gently held your calf as if you would wither under his touch if he wasn't careful enough. His other hand was doing the total opposite by holding your other leg in place and slightly spreading it. He leaned in, pressing a series of slow, lingering kisses from your knee, his lips feather-light as they brushed against your skin. He moved up to the side of your thigh, each kiss seemed to carry a silent promise, a vow of how much he adored every inch of you. The warmth of his breath and the tenderness in his eyes made your heart stutter, filling you with a sense of love and security that felt overwhelming.

You let out a whine, desperate and needy when you felt him detach his lips from your skin. Already yearning for the sensation of his lips on you. "What are you doing?" Gazing at him curiously as he took the highlighter in his hand

He didn't answer.

He held your knee in one hand to avoid them from blocking his line of sight. His mind was in a whirlwind as he saw the marks.

They're beautiful

How dare you deprive him of this.

You gasped as you felt the cold ink of the highlighter on your skin. Bucky moved his hand gracefully as he left traces of bright purple along your stretch marks, tucking his lower lip between his teeth as he concentrated.

"What are you doing, James?" Another attempt for an answer as you watch his hand in between your legs only to be met with silence once again.

He pulled away once he finished, a satisfied look on his face. Looking at his work with such pride in himself. It was beautiful. You were beautiful. Nothing could ever compare to this, to you. No art made by Monet, Renoir, or even Van Gogh could ever come close to how ethereal you looked...

"This," he started, his fingers gently tracing the trails of purple ink on your skin, "This is to remind you that I will always love all of you"

You bit back a smile as you looked down at him; the lovesick look in his eyes told you that his words exude nothing but honesty. And it was as if everything was just now sinking into your mind. Crimson tinted your cheeks, heating up as you realized that you were half naked with a super soldier in between your thighs. Kneeling for you.

You let out a strangled moan as he pressed his lips on your skin once more. Trailing wet kisses to your inner thigh, inhaling as his nose poked your clothed core. You smelled so sweet...

"You think you're getting off the hook that easy?" You gulped so hard that he probably heard it, you couldn't help yourself. How could you when Bucky was looking up at you like someone who hasn't been fed for the past few months? The warmth of his blue eyes dissipated as it was replaced by something familiar but different... Something feral.

"Spread those pretty legs for me, doll. I'm going to fuck you until you're finally convinced that every part of you is perfect"

[reidmarieprentiss]

Always You

Summary: Spencer is in love with his best friend, you already have a boyfriend.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: being called a bitch (not by spencer), sharing hotel rooms, pining, love confessions, break ups, (un)requited feelings, HAPPY ending

Word count: 4.6k

a/n: if your partner of multiple years does not know your basic likes and dislikes ..............

main masterlist

For two years, seven months, two weeks, and six days, you have been a dedicated member of the BAU. For two years, five months, two weeks, and four days, Spencer Reid has been hopelessly in love with you. But for two years and four months, and one week, you’ve been in a relationship with Duncan Cody, the Counter-Terrorism agent who everyone not-so-secretly despises. Spencer was just too late to tell you how he felt, and for two years and four months, that regret has gnawed at him, leaving him haunted by what could have been. 

—

The team was on a case in a small, dusty town in New Mexico, and the accommodations were limited, forcing everyone to double up on rooms. Naturally, you chose to bunk with your best friend, Spencer. But he was unusually tense about the arrangement.

“Hey, JJ, can we switch?” Spencer asked, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness.

JJ looked up from her phone, puzzled. “Huh? Why? I thought you liked rooming with Y/N.”

Spencer swallowed, trying to keep his voice low and steady. Usually, he did love sharing a room with you—it was comfortable, familiar. But the oppressive heat of New Mexico had driven you to wear lighter, more revealing clothes, and Spencer had been struggling with the sight of you all day. The thought of what you might wear to bed, or worse, the possibility that you might wear nothing at all, had his mind spinning and his temperature rising.

“Yeah, no, I do. It’s just… I thought you might want a chance to room with her instead of Hotch,” he stammered, attempting to sound casual.

JJ smiled warmly, shaking her head. “Aww, thanks, Spence, but I don’t mind. Hotch and I usually just talk about the boys until we pass out. It’s actually been pretty nice.”

Spencer forced a tight smile, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten as JJ cheerfully dismissed his suggestion. He could hardly blame her; in fact, he would normally jump at the chance to room with you. But the idea of spending the night so close to you, especially in the sweltering New Mexico heat, had his nerves frayed.

Back in the room, you were already making yourself comfortable, tossing your bag onto the bed with a carefree smile. "It's like a sauna out there," you groaned, fanning yourself with your hand. "I might just sleep in my underwear tonight."

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing at the mental image that followed your innocent comment. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him. "Y-yeah, it's definitely... warm."

You flashed him a grin, completely unaware of the effect you had on him. "At least the AC is working, right?"

"Right," Spencer echoed, swallowing hard. This was going to be a long night.

“Do you mind if I take the first shower? I’ll be quick, I want to get right to bed; I’m beat,” you asked, glancing up from your go-bag as you rummaged through it for your toiletries.

Spencer, trying to keep his cool, nodded quickly. “Ye–yeah, that’s fine.”

You smiled, seemingly unaware of the effect you had on him. “Oh, and which bed do you want?”

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Um, whichever is fine.”

“Thank god, I want the one by the window. Thanks, Spence!” You flashed him a grateful grin before grabbing your things and heading off to the bathroom.

As the door clicked shut behind you, Spencer exhaled a breath he’d been holding. It was wrong to fantasize about his best friend, especially in the very not-safe-for-work way that he often did, and especially when you had a serious partner. But he couldn’t help it. You were the kindest, most genuine person he knew, and the fact that you were also the most stunning person, inside and out, only made it that much harder for him to keep his feelings in check.

Minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, keeping your promise to be quick. However, Spencer’s pulse skyrocketed when he saw you—dressed in nothing but your underwear and a thin tank top that left little to the imagination. He could feel his face flush as he quickly averted his gaze.

“I’m all done, Spence. Shower’s all yours,” you said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“Uh, thanks!” Spencer blurted out, nearly tripping over his own feet as he shot up from the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. He knew there was only one solution to his current predicament—a long, cold shower.

Once both of you were settled in bed with the lights off, you couldn’t resist starting a conversation. Sharing a room with Spencer always reminded you of those childhood sleepovers—giggly, fun, and safe. The quiet darkness seemed to invite whispered secrets, the kind that felt easier to share when you couldn’t see each other’s faces.

“I think Duncan is going to break up with me,” you whispered, your voice just loud enough for Spencer to hear, but soft enough that it felt protected by the shadows.

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

You hesitated for a moment, as if hearing the words out loud made them more real. “I hadn’t said it out loud yet. It sounds crazy now that I have.”

“Why do you think he’s going to break up with you?” Spencer asked, his voice gentle, though he could feel a tightness in his chest.

You sighed deeply, the weight of your thoughts evident. “He’s been pulling away recently. Fewer date nights, less texting during the day… I haven’t spoken to him on the phone once since we got here.” You paused, gathering the courage to continue. “We haven’t had sex in weeks.”

Spencer felt a sharp pang of something unpleasant in his stomach at that comment—jealousy, frustration, regret—he wasn’t sure. “Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he murmured, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“Thanks, Reid,” you replied, your tone quiet and resigned.

For a long moment, silence hung between you, thick and heavy, as if neither of you knew what to say next. Just when you began to drift off, almost convinced that sleep was pulling you under, you heard Spencer’s voice, low and tender, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“If he lets you go, he is the single biggest imbecile on this planet.”

You blinked in the darkness, half-convinced you were imagining things. Did Spencer really just say that? But before you could ask, the silence returned, leaving you to wonder if it was just a dream after all.

—

No more confessions were made during the case, and within a few days, the team was back home. But for Spencer, the case hadn’t been the only thing on his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you might be single soon. The possibility gnawed at him—would he have a chance? Could he ever muster the courage to tell you how he really felt? Who knows?

What he did know, however, was that you had been using him as a frequent escape from your shared apartment with Duncan. Spencer didn’t mind; in fact, he cherished every moment with you.

“Hey, Spence, do you want to order pizza and watch a movie tonight?” you asked casually as the workday began to wind down.

“Yeah, sounds great,” Spencer replied, his smile brightening his features.

As soon as you walked away, Derek strolled over to Spencer’s desk, a look of mild concern on his face. “Uh, Reid?”

“Yeah?” Spencer responded, glancing up at him.

“I thought you had a date tonight?”

Spencer blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“With that girl from the post office?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he realized he had completely forgotten about the date. “I completely forgot.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, surprised. Spencer never forgot anything. “Listen, Reid. I know we all have our feelings about Duncan… but be careful, okay?”

Spencer frowned slightly, unsure what Derek was getting at. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just—she’s hurting right now, but what happens when they make up? I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

Spencer’s mind began to race as he processed Derek’s words. “We’re just friends, Derek. I’m just supporting her in her time of need.”

Derek gave him a look that was equal parts sympathetic and skeptical. “I hope you’re right, Pretty Boy.”

As Derek walked away, Spencer found himself caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. Was Derek right? Was he setting himself up for heartache? He didn’t know the answers, but one thing was certain—he was in too deep to turn back now.

—

You were sitting on Spencer's couch, enjoying a slice of pizza, when his phone started ringing on the coffee table. Since Spencer was in the bathroom, you reached over to grab it, assuming it might be work-related. But the screen flashed a name you didn't recognize: Amanda. Who's Amanda? you wondered, feeling a twinge in your stomach that you quickly tried to dismiss.

When Spencer came back from the bathroom, you waved his phone with a teasing smile, trying to mask the discomfort you felt. "Who's Amanda, Spence?" you asked, your voice light but edged with curiosity.

His face dropped instantly, a look of confusion and then realization washing over him. "What?"

"You got a call from someone named Amanda," you repeated, watching his reaction closely.

Spencer's shoulders sagged as he took the phone from you. "Oh shoot, I forgot to cancel our date tonight. She probably thinks I stood her up."

Your heart sank a little. "Wait, Reid, you had a date tonight? Why didn't you tell me? I could have gone home!"

The mix of surprise and a slight sense of betrayal hung in the air. Spencer looked genuinely apologetic, his eyes wide with concern. "I... I just forgot. With everything going on, it slipped my mind. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you here if you had other plans."

You forced a smile, shaking your head slightly. "It's okay, I just... didn't realize." Inside, you were conflicted, feeling foolish for how comfortable you’d become in his space, reminding yourself once again that you were just friends, despite the years of ignoring that pit in your stomach.

—

The entire team had taken note of the significant amount of time you and Spencer had been spending together, and they were all too aware of his long-standing crush on you. Their concern for their friend was palpable, which made the next rooming arrangement all the more telling. When the opportunity arose again for team members to share rooms, JJ immediately claimed you as her roommate. You caught the unmistakable look of relief that Spencer sent her way. What the hell?

That night, as you settled into the room with JJ, the question that had been nagging at you finally spilled out. "Why did Spencer seem relieved not to room with me? Did I do something wrong?"

JJ looked at you with her soft, comforting eyes, shaking her head gently. "Oh, I don’t think so," she reassured you in her calming tone. "Last time he asked me to switch, I think he just wanted a break," she added, her words kind but straightforward.

"Got it." The words felt like a punch to your gut. Your best friend didn’t want to room with you? The thought made you feel nauseous, or maybe it was the urge to cry that was overwhelming you.

"Is everything okay?" JJ noticed the tears brimming in your eyes.

"Yeah," you waved her off with a forced chuckle. "I’m on my period, just overly emotional," you laughed it off, masking the true turmoil you felt.

JJ immediately responded with a warm smile. "Aw, honey, I have pain killers and tampons if you need anything!"

"Thanks, JJ," you muttered, grateful for her kindness but still reeling from the emotional sting of the evening's revelations.

—

After the case, you found yourself withdrawing from Spencer, the sting of feeling like an imposition too sharp to ignore. Instead, you poured your energy into mending the fraying edges of your relationship with Duncan. Spencer, on the other hand, was left puzzled by your sudden distance, unable to pinpoint the cause of this shift in your dynamic. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of a faint hickey peeking out from under your collar that he understood—or thought he did.

“So you fixed things with Duncan?” he asked one day, trying to sound casual as he joined you for coffee in the breakroom.

“Yup. I’ll be out of your hair now, don’t worry,” you replied with a tight smile, and without waiting for his response, you walked out, leaving Spencer bewildered in your wake.

“What was that about?” JJ inquired, having witnessed the interaction from her spot by the vending machine.

“Not sure, she’s been giving me the cold shoulder since the last case,” Spencer murmured, frowning deeply as he stirred his coffee absentmindedly.

“Oh, I might know why,” JJ said, her voice lowering slightly.

“Why?” Spencer looked up, his interest piqued.

“Well, she knows you didn’t want to room with her,” JJ revealed, her expression sympathetic.

“What? You told her?” Spencer’s voice was a mix of surprise and slight irritation.

“She asked, Spence. She was really upset about the whole thing too. You should talk to her,” JJ advised, her tone earnest.

Spencer nodded slowly, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. I will,” he agreed, his mind already racing with what he would say to you, hoping to mend the unintentional hurt he had caused.

—

"Y/N, can we talk?" Spencer caught up with you just as you were about to step into the elevator on a quiet Friday evening. The office had already emptied, leaving you both as the last on the floor.

"Sure, what's up?" you asked, pausing to face him, noting the serious look on his face.

Spencer opened his mouth to explain the hotel room situation, his mind racing for the right words that wouldn't betray his deeper feelings. "Well, you see, it's about the hotel room situation on the last case, and I just—uh, I mean, when we were assigned to room together, I found myself in a bit of a predicament, or rather, a series of considerations that perhaps aren't usual, or rather aren't typically problematic in ordinary circumstances, but given the nature of—"

"Spencer, it's fine. You don't have to room with me on every case. I'm sorry I never asked first," you interjected, misreading his hesitation.

"No, no, I want to room with you," he blurted out, more forcefully than he intended.

"Then why did you ask JJ to switch?" you asked, your confusion evident.

Spencer felt trapped between his desire to comfort you and his fear of making things awkward. "Um...it was just really warm on that case, and I—I didn't want to see you in your underwear," he admitted, his cheeks coloring slightly.

"What? Spencer, you could have just told me. Oh my god! I was walking around in my underwear!" you exclaimed, half-amused and half-mortified.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking genuinely apologetic.

"No, Reid, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Is it because I have a boyfriend?" you asked, your tone laced with concern.

Spencer scoffed at the mention of Duncan. "No."

"Then what is it?" you pressed, your gaze steady on his.

Caught with no more excuses, Spencer knew he was cornered. His heart raced with the realization that there was no turning back. "Because I'm in love with you," he confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush.

—

Spencer Reid's confession echoed in your mind, each word reverberating through your thoughts like a bell that couldn’t be unrung. Spencer Reid is in love with me? The realization sent your thoughts into a tumultuous spiral as you drove home, the familiar streets blurring past. You considered pulling over, needing a moment to process the swirling chaos in your head, but you pushed on, driven by a need to just get home.

When you finally walked through the door of your apartment, the atmosphere struck you immediately. It was dimmer than usual, the air filled with a scent that was distinctly not yours. The smell of soy candles—a scent you distinctly disliked—mingled with the scent of red roses, another thing you didn't care for.

"Duncan?" Your voice was hesitant, almost wary as you set your things by the door and walked deeper into the dimly lit space.

"In here, babe," Duncan called out from the living room.

Following his voice, you found him standing in the center of a meticulously staged scene, surrounded by the roses and candles. The setup was so unlike what you would have wanted, so disconnected from who you were.

"Uhhh, what’s going on here?" you asked, your tone a mix of confusion and a growing sense of disconnect.

Duncan turned to you with a smile that didn’t feel genuine, the ambiance around him feeling more like a set piece than a gesture of genuine affection. "Y/N," he began, his voice taking on a rehearsed quality that made your heart sink even further. "I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and I just really think it’s time we take the next step together. What do you say?"

The words, meant to be romantic, felt hollow and oddly generic, as if they were pulled from a script rather than from his heart. Standing there, with Spencer's heartfelt confession still burning bright in your mind, Duncan’s display felt even more jarring.

The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows as Duncan's unexpected question hung in the air. “What?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

The word slipped out before you could even think, a reflex born of surprise and clarity. “No.” It was firm, decisive, echoing slightly in the quiet room.

Duncan’s face crumbled, his brow furrowing in confusion and hurt. “What?” he echoed again, his voice a blend of disbelief and dismay.

You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. “Uh, this is just so out of left field. I mean, we have never once talked about marriage.”

Duncan’s response was quick, a desperate attempt to salvage the situation. “But, babe, we live together,” he reasoned, as if cohabitation alone was a precursor to marriage.

“So? You basically ignored me for a whole month,” you countered, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside you.

“Right, but then we fixed things, so we know we work together,” he argued, trying to paint a picture of a resolved partnership.

You couldn’t help but let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Solid logic,” you replied sarcastically, the absurdity of the conversation becoming more apparent.

Duncan's frustration was palpable. “Are you really being sarcastic right now?”

“Yeah, and I wish you were too,” you shot back, wishing the whole scenario was just a bad joke.

Duncan’s next words were sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Fuck you, bitch.”

You froze for a moment, the harshness of his words striking deep. “What did you just call me?” Your voice was calm, almost eerily so, as you fixed your gaze on him.

“A bitch,” he repeated, his voice cold and hard.

“Get out,” you said, your tone final. You stood up, your posture rigid with resolve.

“No, I live here too,” he protested, but there was a waver in his voice now.

“Whose name is on the lease? Get out before I call my team. Do you want Derek and Emily to escort you out?” Your words were a clear threat, backed by the certainty that you would follow through if needed.

Duncan hesitated, his anger giving way to a flicker of fear as he considered your words. Then, in a sudden burst of spite, he hurled the ring box at you. “Keep it, I don’t want your bad juju.”

With that, he stormed out, the door slamming behind him with a force that seemed to shake the apartment. Silence descended, heavy and absolute, as you stood there, the ring box at your feet, a stark reminder of the relationship that had just disintegrated before your eyes.

—

Spencer Reid had cried more times in his life than he cared to count. He cried when he was bullied as a child, when his father walked out on him and his mother, when he made the heartbreaking decision to place his mom in a care facility. He cried when he was kidnapped, when Emily died—or so he thought. The list of tears was long, but today, he added another entry: the day he told his best friend he was in love with her, only for her to stand there as still as a statue, silent and unmoving, until his heart shattered so completely that he had to leave before she saw him break down.

Now, he lay in bed, the lights off, his eyes puffy and wet, replaying every scenario he wished had happened instead of the painful reality he’d experienced. He sniffled, whimpered, and curled into himself, desperate for a do-over, a second chance to make it right. But life wasn’t that kind.

A knock sounded at his door, pulling him from his misery. He ignored it, too consumed by his sorrow to entertain company. The knocking persisted, three more times, before it finally ceased. Relief was short-lived, however, as his phone began to ring. Without checking the caller ID, Spencer answered, his voice sharp and uncharacteristically harsh. “What?”

“Spence, it’s me. Please open the door.”

He’d never moved so fast in his life. Leaping out of bed in such a hurry, he promptly tripped over his own feet and crashed to the floor with a thud. “Ouch,” he muttered, pushing himself up with a wince. Ignoring the ache, he scrambled to the door, swinging it open with such force that it nearly bounced back. His heart clenched at the sight of you standing there, your expression filled with concern as you took in his tear-streaked face.

“Hi, Spence,” you greeted softly, your voice gentle as if trying not to scare him away.

“Hi,” he croaked out, barely holding himself together.

“Can I come in?” you asked, your tone tentative.

He nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter. Once inside, you turned to face him, clearly gathering your thoughts.

“So, uh, I’m just going to talk. You can listen or interrupt, whatever you want,” you offered, trying to ease the tension.

Spencer nodded again, still too emotionally raw to form coherent words.

You took a deep breath. “Duncan proposed to me.” The words hung in the air, a bombshell that detonated in Spencer’s chest. His heart broke all over again, shattering into a billion pieces. “I said no.”

His head shot up so fast he thought he might have given himself whiplash. “What?”

“Yeah, it was bad. He had red roses and soy candles set up in the living room.” Spencer’s nose scrunched in distaste; he knew how much you hated those things. “And when he left, he called me a bitch and threw the ring at me.”

Spencer’s fists clenched, a protective anger surging through him. “I’ll kill him.”

“Nah, someone else will. I’m sure of it,” you replied with a small, rueful smile.

His anger softened, replaced by confusion. “So…what are you doing here?”

You looked at him with determination and vulnerability. “What ring would you buy me?”

“Huh?” Spencer blinked, taken aback by the sudden question.

“If you were to propose to me, say tomorrow. What kind of ring would you buy for me?” you asked, your eyes searching his.

“A round cut diamond with a thin silver band,” he answered without hesitation, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

“I’m in love with you too,” you confessed, your voice steady, but your eyes shimmering with emotion.

“Wait, what?” Spencer was incredulous, his mind racing to process what you’d just said. But even as his heart tried to catch up, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Duncan got me a thick gold ring with a pear-cut lab-grown pink diamond,” you explained, shaking your head at the mismatch.

“Did he know you at all?” Spencer asked, the smile growing despite the shock still coursing through him.

“Apparently not. I’m going to kiss you now,” you declared, stepping closer, leaving Spencer no time to overthink, no time to doubt—just enough time to feel the world tilt as your lips met his.

It was gentle at first, a tentative brush of lips, as if testing the waters. But then something shifted, a dam breaking as all the unspoken feelings, the years of longing and missed chances, came rushing to the surface. Spencer responded in kind, his hands lifting to cradle your face with a tenderness that belied the storm inside him. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped in the heat of the moment.

He poured everything he couldn’t say into that kiss—all the love, all the fear, all the hope. The kiss deepened, growing in intensity, but it remained sweet, a quiet revelation of the love that had always been there, just beneath the surface.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and slightly trembling, your foreheads rested against each other’s, both of you taking a moment to simply exist in the aftermath of the kiss. Spencer’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with wonder and relief.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice equally soft. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“Better late than never,” he said, a small, genuine smile spreading across his face.

You laughed softly, the sound breaking the last of the tension between you. With your hand still resting on his chest, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart, mirroring your own.

Spencer’s hand slipped from your cheek to your hand, fingers intertwining with yours as if afraid to let go. “So, where do we go from here?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of hopefulness.

“Wherever you want, Spence,” you replied, your smile reassuring. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Spencer’s eyes twinkled with affection and mischief, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I never want to room with Hotch again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and full of warmth. “Just me?”

Spencer’s expression softened, his gaze unwavering as he responded with quiet sincerity. “It’s always been you.”

The words hung in the air, filled with all the meaning and truth he had held back for so long. Before you could fully process the weight of his confession, he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, as if savoring every second, every sensation.

The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s embrace. This kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a confirmation of everything that had been unspoken until now.

When you finally parted, both of you breathless but smiling, it was clear that nothing would ever be the same. And that was perfectly okay.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @noelliece @dreamsarebig

[hybridirl]

i’ve never done this before…

18 + only, please!

ellie x f!loser!reader

a/n: so basically i was on janitor ai because i’m genuinely an addicted freak and this was inspired by a chat i had :3 im also replaying tlou2 bc i cant stop i need it i need it i need it. also i think a LOT more things make sense now, so i think you should replay after u play it.

brief summary: ellie is ur big sister’s best friend! but, unfortunately you’re dubbed an “annoying little sister,” your sister’s not home, ellie’s high when she comes over, and ur a loser nerd who can’t deal with confrontation :(. (au if it wasn’t obvious!)

tw / DUBCON?, ellie is very mean, degrading, praise, pet names, reader is a virgin, small age gap if you really squint, porn without a plot, rushed sex, scissoring (tribbling?), use of y/n i think…

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚

with a grunt, you pulled your pajama pants up the rest of the way. you were headed to the door after hearing seven hard knocks on the door.

“hello—“ you began, cutting yourself off when you see ellie, your sister’s best friend. “ellie?” you glanced behind her, then behind yourself. “she’s not home right now.”

“yeah, yeah,” she slurred, and your lips went into a thin line from her state, so obviously intoxicated. “she told me come ‘n wait. she’s gettin’ her shit rocked, ‘r whatever. she dropped me off ‘ya know? said you wouldn’t mind. you don’ mind, do you?”

being such a caring person had its ups and downs. you weren’t fond of ellie, and she wasn’t fond of you. she had been your biggest bully throughout the entirety of middle and high school. but, you couldn’t deny her entry. she could get hurt or worse, and you didn’t want that. or to be responsible of it.

you adjusted your glasses, eyeing her with a thoughtful look. her eyes were halflidded, red, and she smelled disgusting. she eyed you right back, her stare almost intimidating.

“no, ellie. i don’t mind,” you said begrudgingly, stepping aside to allow her in. you watched her make her way around the all-too-familiar home while you shut the door. you mentally prepared yourself for tending to her needs; you knew she’d tell if you hadn’t. you also prepared for the anger she would inevitably feel. she was an angry person when intoxicated. you leaned against the door and watched her opened the fridge.

“what do you got?” ellie asked, shutting the refrigerator and looking at you. “what’re you gonna make?”

“i don’t know,” you responded and took a glance at the stove. you hadn’t noticed what she took from the fridge, only gasping when you heard the familiar sound of a beer opening. “hey, hey, hey! that’s my dad’s!” you watched ellie shrug and give you a “so what?” look. “stop it, that’s not good for you!” you rushed over, reaching for the beer, but her rough hand kept you in place as she chugged it down. “ellie, stop! you’re already high, that’s gonna make it worse; ellie, stop!”

“and what the fuck do you know?” she asked as she slammed the beer bottle of the counter, “you stupid fuckin’ loser, what the fuck is wrong with you? i’ll do what-the-fuck-ever i want. you’re such a fucking lame-ass, you won’t even take a lil sip o’ this thing,” she stuck the beer can up to your mouth, which you turned away from, “that’s what i thought, you stupid bitch. you’re probably a virgin, too, huh? you don’t even try- nobody even tries for you. no man, no woman, no whatever. never been in a relationship, never been in fuckin’ nothing. you are such a fucking loser.”

your jaw was slack, almost looking like a fish out of water as it tried to shut and open.

“you’re too high for this,” you said slowly, still shocked at her words. you took a step back, your back pressing against the island counter.

“you don’t know the first thing about ‘too high,’ jackass. bet you never had a dick in you before. too busy studyin’ your stupid fucking books to be the good girl you are. can’t even do this because you’re always bein’ a teacher’s pet, always bein’ a goody-two-shoes, know it all, fucking bitch. probably got a few toys like the desperate freak you are. maybe a dildo? nah, you want that pussy t’stay tight, huh?” you thought it couldn’t get worse than the insults before, but this was insane. your eyes were wide, shock filling your features.

“ellie!” you gasped in horror and embarrassment, “i— i’m calling my sister!”

“you’re a fucking snitch!” she giggled, pointing at you. “she doesn’t care what the fuck i’m saying to you. she’s too busy slutting herself out to give a fuck about your pathetic ass, baby.”

“go away, ellie,” you whimpered out, eyes at the ground. you attempted to push past her, but her hands gripped your wrists. “please.”

“you’re not getting rid of me,” she growled, her beer-breath filling your nostrils, “you’re a goddamn joke. i’m not going anywhere ‘til i’m good ‘n ready. you just know i’m right.” she leaned in, her lips brushing your cheek as she whispered deep into your ear, “you just want my hands all over you, don’t you, y/n? i’ve seen how you watched me. you want a real woman’s hands on ‘ya. all of over your pretty body, hm?”

“no,” you whispered right back, your brows furrowed. this was your sister’s best friend. this was just… wrong; you couldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t right. and she was high! she didn’t know what she was doing, what she was saying, but her touch felt so…

“don’t you lie to me,” she huffed her breath hot in your ear, “you wanna get touched bad. you know you do. you want my hands slidin’ down your pretty panties and touchin’ that clit. make you cum all on my hand. you want that, don’t you?”

“ellie,” you almost moaned out at her dirty talk, your brows knitted together in conflict. your hand went to cover your mouth as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pjs and simultaneously your underwear.

“let it out, baby,” she told as your hand muffled a broken moan, “you’re already so, so wet for me. this pussy’s just beggin’ for my touch, huh?” her finger-pad ran across your clit and your knees buckled. she giggled in response, a lazy grin plastered on her face. “mm, ya feel that? this’s what y’ve been missin’ out on with all that nerdy bullshit you do.” her fingers slipped easily inside you, making your eyes roll with pleasure; another moan escaped your throat. “y’so tight. just like i thought.” she pulled her fingers out, quickly giving them a lick before tugging your bottoms down. “oh, baby…” she moaned at the sight, licking her lips as she took you in. “look at that pretty pussy. mhm, ‘n all f’r me, huh?” she knelt down, getting face to face with your cunt. “answer me.” she kissed at your inner thighs. all you could do was watch, trembling under her dominating touch.

you yelped, jumping in surprise as she bit your thigh harshly.

“i said answer.”

“y-yes! all for you, ‘s all for you,” you whimpered, whining as her mouth finally met with your drooling pussy. your resolve had slipped away, only thinking about that needy, touch-starved vulva of yours. “oh, ellie…” she grinned as she watching you come undone, your fingers slipping into her hair and tugging at it. she lapped and lapped at your clit, tongue running circles around the sensitive bud. she gave it a last kiss before she pulled away, smirking at your distress.

“preview, baby. all that was. go to your room, m’followin’ you.”

you were anxious to walk, taking just a moment before giddily rushing to your room. the masculine woman easily followed your direction, shutting the door hard behind her as she pulled you down to the bed with her. her hands were immediately on you as you lay atop her, caressing and running down your back, cupping your ass and squeezing.

“you’re so ready for me baby, aren’t you?” she asked with a small smirk playing at her lips. “you wanna grind that pretty pussy on mine, don’t you?”

“i-i’ve never done this before, i-i don’t know what to do,” you admitted, although she already knew your circumstance.

“makin’ me do all the work, you pretty lil pillow princess?” she teased, that same lazy grin on her face. she easily flipped you over, watching your eyes widen in surprise. “god, how are you so perfect…” she moaned softly to herself, her hands running down your sides, down your legs, and down your calves. she reached her jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging them down quickly. you gulped as you eyed her pubic mound, her dark hair trimmed finely.. she lifted your hips up, appreciating your vulva once more. she used her thumb to lift up your clitoral hood, bending down to meet the pearl with her tongue. “mm, god, i can’t get enough of you. pull your shirt up, wanna see those tits ‘ve been wantin’ to see.” you did as you were told, quickly pulling your nightshirt up and showing her your breasts. a groan left her throat as her hands reached out to touch them, tweaking and rolling your nipples between her fingers.

“please,” you whined, your head tilted back. “please, ellie…”

“oh, i know you’re so needy, huh? never done this before? never been touched so good by another girl b’fore, huh?” ellie teased once more, and all you could do was nod. it was all true. “say it, baby. tell me how much of a loser you are.”

with an embarrassed grimace, you obliged, “i-i’m a big loser. ‘ve never, ever gotten laid ‘n i wanna… oh!” you gasped as you felt the sensation of her pussy meet yours. “ellie…” her hips ground against yours, your clits bumping and running across each other.

“you like this? my pussy all over yours?” she growled, rolling her hips to meet your cunt. “fuck, you’re so wet.” you moaned out, your hands trying to find a place to stay as they flailed. they gripped the sheets and you watched above as her pussy slid across yours. you both glistened with a thin layer of sweat, your bodies becoming hot with arousal. “you feel so fucking good.”

“yes,” you cried, “more.” and she gave you more, her hips rolling with fervor while you writhed in pleasure. “p-please— ellie!”

“yeah, scream my name you little slut,” she purred, her auburn hair sticking to her sweaty face. “let ‘em know— let the neighbors know you’re finally getting laid.”

you continued to moan her name, completely drunk on this feeling. she let out small little ‘just like that’s’ as your voice echoed off the walls of your room.

it was intense, your bodies moving together and so perfectly in sync. sweat dripped from her forehead onto your belly, slightly coating your skin. her hands gripped your chest as she ground against you, the position slightly awkward, but pleasing nonetheless as your heats mushed together in symphony. sloppy squelches filled your ears, almost drowned out by your moans and cries as she took you.

“i’m gonna,” you began, tears welling up in your pretty eyes, “i’m gonna cum, ellie!”

“yeah? right on my pussy? cum right on my pussy, baby,” she moaned, her hands reaching her cup her own breast. you moaned, following her command like a dog as your canal contracting around nothing, costing her slick folds in all your essence. your body convulsed as you came, and the sight forced a moan out of her throat. “yeah, that’s it, my good girl, fu—ck… i’m cumming!” with her orgasm following in suit, she gripped your leg hard, riding out her orgasm as you tried to come down from your own. you whined from the overstimulation, feeling her arousal spread out on your flesh. she shushed you, her index finger on your lips as she calmed her breathing. she dropped your leg, plopping beside you with a grunt.

“t-that was good,” you said to her, your eyes lingering on her glistening face.

“mhm, now you get to brag to a—ll your nerdy, little virgin friends that you,” she jabbed a finger, “got laid.”

“you’re mean,” you huffed, a little pout on your face. she smirked, bringing a hand to the back of your neck and bringing you in to kiss.

“yeah?” she chuckled, “but you like it.”

[sterredem]

Doubt

Logan sargeant x Piastri!reader

This was a request

Face claim no one

Summary after the Australian Grand Prix Logan begins to doubt himself and lashes out in Y/n

Word count -

Warning angst, break up, not proofread, spelling mistakes

A/N I don’t know the names of Oscar’s sisters so I made it up; we have Olivia, Julie and Amelia. Sorry if that is your name, you can just imagine an other name.

Hate the ending. It was also a bit rushed, so the spelling will NOT be good.

Please repost, comment or give feedback! It helps a lot!❤️

Oscar, Logan and Y/n. Those names were said together a lot. Sometimes various combinations of those three but mostly the three names together with each other. And mostly when it was said it mentioned something good, or funny. But the last few months the combination ‘Logan and Y/n’ is heard a lot more. In the media but also said by other drivers or fans. That is because after years of dating thru finally hard launched. And the word loved it how could they not? They were every good book trope

Childhood best friends, brothers best friend, childhood sweethearts, secret relationships. And the people loved it. But with every relationship came problems, and that was no different with them.

And after the monstrosity that is called the Australian Grand Prix 2024, let’s just say a few things changed.

|———————————<3—————————————|

The Australian Grand Prix, Oscars home race and Logan Sal most home race (or at least it felt like it). The whole Piastri family came to support the two boys. And with the family was, of course, Y/n. Oscars youngest sister (ado his favourite) and Logan’s girlfriend from 10 years (the first few years not being overly serious with that a 13 year old being in a relationship).

But despite the good atmosphere at the beginning of the race weekend that didn’t last the whole weekend. All because of the stupid decision’s of Williams and because of Alex’s crash.

So when the news came out that Logan wouldn’t race and would give Alex his car, it was understandable that Y/n was confused. So when she walked out of the McLaren garage and into the Williams garage for an explanation from Logan. So she walked to his drivers room and knocked on the door before slowly opening it. When she walked in she saw Logan laying down on the massage table. So she slowly walked up to him and touched his shoulder to let him know she was there.

“Hey lo, hoe are you doing? I heard what happens.” She said quietly while he sat up straighter and looked at her.

He mumbled something that she didn’t hear so she asked him to repeat it.

“We need to talk.” Logan said while slowly looking away from his girlfriend.

“Okay…” she said a bit confused while looking at Logan. “What is going on love?” She asked. “Is it something with the race? Do you need something? Do I need to fight someone?” She asked the last bit joking of course (but she would if he asked her to).

“I think we need to break up.” He said getting straight to the point wanting it to be over. He didn’t look at her but instead chose to look around the room.

“What?” She asked confused with his sudden statement. “No, we don’t. Why would you think we would need to break up?” She asked getting more and more confused by the second.

Logan was silent for a second before speaking again. “Let me rephrase; I want to break up with you.” He said more firm while finally looking in her eyes. She looked worst then ever.

“Why? Is it something I did?” She asked straying to stand up.

“No, no. It is all me. You did nothing wrong.” He said while also standing up.

“Then why are you breaking up with me? We have been together through basically everything! Why break up now?” She asked while starting to pace the room, she slowly came to a stop before him. “Don’t you love me anymore? Have you found someone else?” She asks tears beginning to form on her eyes.

“No of course not. I still love you, I just can’t be in a relationship with you. Can’t you just accept that and not be such a bitch about it?!” Logan siad silently whisper screaming the last part to not disturb the other people that could be around them.

“Oh I’m sorry that I want to know why my boyfriend is suddenly breaking up with me on my brothers home race!” She said now almost fully crying. “You know what I don’t even want to know anymore. Goodbye Logan.” She said while walking out of the door and closing it.

She walked out of the Williams garage back to the McLaren one, and as soon as she was there she saw her siblings. She asked towards them with her head low trying to hide her tears. When she did finally reach them they started to ask questions but she just shrugged them off. She asked her sister for the car keys not wanting to be there anymore.

She told them to tell Oscar where she was and that she was sorry for leaving so early. They tried to talk to her but that didn’t really work. So she just left the paddock and drove home. When she was finally there she got up to her room and cried… a lot.

While that all happens Logan was shocked at what he did. Of course he broke up with her but he didn’t think she would just leave. And he was also weeping worst with calling her a bitch.

The whole thing was bad for him; him not being able to race, him breaking up with his girlfriend and everyone staring at him with those damn stupid sympathy looks. This was the start of the worst few weeks- no even months for Logan Sargeant.

|———————————<3—————————————|

When the remaining Piastri family returned home the where curious with what happens to the youngest member. So when Nicole decided to check up on her daughter she didn’t expect to see the door locked and hear sobbing.

“Y/n, sweetie are you alright?” Her mother asked while knocking on the door. “Can you open the door please?” She asked.

Y/n slowly stood up from her bed and walked to the door to unlock it. As soon as she was done she laid down again. “It’s open.” She said a bit muffled because of the pillow she laid her head on.

Her mother walked into the room and saw her daughter upset. She slowly walked to words her and rubbed her back comforting her. Y/n slowly sad up against the headboard and looked at her mom. Her mom saw her teary eyes and brought her in a hug. They didn’t need to speak to know what happened. It was pretty oblivious to Nicole that something happened between her and Logan; she did come back from him crying after all.

“Hey sweetheart, what happened?” Her mother asked wanting to confirm her suspicions about what happened. But before the her daughter could answer there was another knock at the door.

Y/n looked up to see who it was, and it was Oscar. “Hey you alright y/n/n? I heard you left early, I was getting worried.” He said while also waking towards her. “What happened?” He asked wanting to know what happens with his (favourite) sister.

“It’s just… Logan…” she said quietly her voice breaking a bit

“What did he do?” Oscar asked wanting to know what his best friend did to hurt his sister.

“He broke up with me.” She said shocking Oscar and confirming Nicole’s suspicions.

“What? Why?” Oscar asked looked really shocked.

“I don’t know. He just said he wanted to break up. And when I asked why he said i need to ‘stop being a bitch about it’” she said crying more.

“He said that?!” Oscar asked getting more and more shocked with all that she says.

Y/n hummed and layer back down in her bad and put her face in the pillow. “Can you please just leave me alone?” She asked while trying to stop herself from making a sound.

“Oscar can you please leave sweetheart. I will talk with Y/n for a bit. Can you please hale your sisters and dad with setting the table? And can you get Olivia to come upstairs?” Nicole asked her son.

“Yeah, sure.” He said while standing up. He looked at his sister one last time before going downstairs to help the rest of his family and get Hadie to go help cheer his sister up.

After a few minutes Hadie came in Y/n’s room and saw her youngest sister and mum hugging while Y/n was crying.

“Hey y/n/n, Oscar told me what happened. You okay?” Hadie asked while walking in the room and closing the door for some privacy.

“I will be fine. Can we just not talk about it? This weekend is suppose to be about Oscar and the race, not me.” She said while looking at her oldest sister.

“Hey don’t talk like that. Of course it is a special weekend for Oscar, but you are important too. And I know for a fact that he doesn’t care that we give you a little more attention now because Logan is an asshole.” Hadie said. Receiving a look from Nicole at the last part, but they both chose to ignore it.

“I know, but still. Can we just not talk about it now? Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. I just want to enjoy watching our brother race.” Y/n said while wiping her tears away. Nicole and Hadie nodded at that and they walked downstairs.

After Chris, Mea and Edie gave Y/n a hug they all ate and did not speak about Logan. After they were done eating Y/n went to her room to figure out what to do with her life while the rest stoot up a little longer to just talk before going to sleep.

|———————————<3—————————————|

After the Australian Grand Prix, and Y/n avoiding Logan at all cost, they didn’t see each other for a while. That was because while some people may have free time, Y/n still had school and while she normally would would do it online to see Logan and Oscar race, now after the break up she devoted that it was smarter to just attend school in real life and have social contact with more people her age.

So the next time that they where close to each other again was the China Grand Prix, either her being there for Oscar’s birthday.

And while they where both exited with her being there looking back at it it maybe wasn’t the best idea. Because while Y/n was still in a heartbreak after the break up, Logan seemed to be fine, and moving on.

Because when Y/n was in the McLaren garage with Oscar and Lilly Oscar walked in the paddock with a girl… yeah, it seemed that he moved on.

After the pure torture that was watching Logan and the girl for the whole weekend Y/n chose to see what was going on. She knows that they broke up but she could get answers, right?

So after the race and the whole after ritual she de devoted to go back to the hotel, where Logan was also staying. She had asked Alex and Lilly (Alex’s girlfriend) what his room number was and they happily said it (not enjoying the whining that Logan did all the time).

So she walked to the room and knocked on the door.

Logan opens it.

They looked at each other.

And she slapped him.

He looked shocked.

But honestly, he deserved it.

“Come inside?” Logan asked hesitantly, not knowing what to do after she had slapped him.

“Is there anyone else?” She asked wanting to know if the girl was with him.

“Nope. All alone.” He said opening the door wider to let her in.

They both walked in the room and Logan walked to the kitchen and stood against the island. And Y/n begin talking.

“You know, I am not sorry for the slap. You are such an asshole to me. You break up, call me a bitch, don’t give me an explanation for either of them and then you show up with some other girl?! What the fuck Logan? You can’t do that to me! And i know that I will just forgive you cause I love you!… and that is the first I have said it and we are broken up and you have someone else and… ugh! It is all unfair. All I wanted to do is just comfort my boyfriend and than all this happened and now my life is shirk! And I miss you, and I just want you back, but I can’t have you back because you have already moved on. But I still love you and it’s not fair and-“ before she could continue her rambling she felt something in her lips.

Logan was kissing her.

He still liked her.

He is kissing her!

And it felt better then ever.

And of course she kissed back.

“Please shut up” Logan said after parting away from her lips. “I can explain just please, shut up.” He said with a smile on his face while looking at her.

“Okay so explain.” Y/n said still in a bit of a daze at the kiss.

“Okay so; the girl is just a friend, she really loves F1 so I gave her one off my paddock passes so she could have the full experience. There is nothing going on between us. And yes I did diserve the slap, I really was an ass to you, but I promise I have an explanation.

After what happened at Australia I begin to doubt myself and then I realised that you deserve better, so I broke up with you. Is was an impulsive and stupid decision I know that, and I’m sorry. And I am also so so sorry for that I called you a bitch, it was just that I was really stressed and angry at, well everything and I just lachend out at you. And again I am so sorry for everything. Can you please forgive me? I want you back again. And I love you too.” Logan rambled.

Y/n looked at him for a second before responding. “I also really want you back, but we can’t jump right back at where we where. I need some time. And I want to be with you and I can’t bear to be without you for any longer. So how about this; we get back together, but slowly. We will be a couple and all but we won’t move at an incredible fast pace, I still need to fully trust that you won’t just break up with me after an other thing happens. And the next time something big is going on, either ether of us; we talk.” She explained while grabbing his hand.

“Yeah, I’m okay with that. Everything to be with you again. And now Oscar can finally shut up with looking at me like I killed his cat or something.” Logan said relieved that he and his best friend could also make up after Oscar ignoring him and shooting him dirty glances all the time.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I said he should stop it but he didn’t listen.” y/n laughed.

“So… you want to go out to eat something now that we are together again?” Logan asked grabbing his girlfriends hand.

“Yeah for sure.” Yang/n smiled at him.

|———————————<3—————————————|

[fadingdaggerr]

hey! I just wanted to see if I could request a Melissa x Reader fic where basically r is a teacher at the school and her best friend is ava, and r has the fattest crush on melissa ever but the only ones who know are ava, barbra, and mr johnson (bc dude knows everything)

and ava and barbra are trying to be wingman because melissa likes r. so just a bunch of mutual pining and fluff. and when they confess it’s snowing.

if you can’t do that that’s totally fine! but if you do thanks in advance and take your time

as you ever were

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above | 8k

includes: mutual pining, ava and barb meddling, kinda dialogue heavy oops, these bitches Oblivious, author is a classics nerd

warnings: (minimal) they/them pronoun use for R, sexual innuendos, (brief) alcohol consumption, kissing/light making out

note: sorry i took so long getting to this req. school started up and work is genuinely insane. plus i got a little too into writing this so editing too a little while. i actually really like how this turned out :)

Unforecasted frozen rain forced recess to be inside, everyone was to just stick to their classroom since there was no time to prepare the gymnasium for indoor recess on such short notice. The kids spent the first five minutes of recess begging you to go outside, to which you open the window, to which Sean says oh, hell no, resulting in a scolding from you.

Within five more minutes, your teacher-senses begin to tingle. Something is wrong. Looking up from your record book, you glance around the classroom until your eyes land on Karam. The seven year old had just moved to Philly with his parents a few weeks ago, and with this being his first week at a new school, he has been understandably frazzled. The boy is facing towards your desk, away from his classmates, sitting on a beanbag chair and crying to himself.

Immediately, you rise out of your chair and approach him gently, lowering yourself to sit criss-cross in front of him. “Hey, Karam. What’s going on?” you ask calmly, not trying to draw attention to his state nor baby him. The only response you get is a shake of the head, so you ask, “would you like some alone time right here?” Another shake of the head, another question, “do you want to talk alone, just you and me? You can bring Pickle.”

This offer seems to appease him, he instantly stands and goes to his backpack to grab his beloved stuffed sea lion. You get to the doorway and keep your hand on his shoulder where he stands just out of sight of the other kids, hoping no one will see him and decide to get nosy.

“Okay, chickens. I’m going to run across the hall very quickly, keep doing what you’re doing. Ashante, honey, you’re in charge,” you say with a little grin, it becomes a full smile when the girl salutes you.

Once you’re in the hall, Karam grabs your hand tightly with big tears ready to fall, and stays close as you cross diagonally to some of your students' previous second grade classroom. You lean into the doorway, still keeping Karam out of sight of others, and knock to gain a certain redhead’s attention. She’s quick to get to you, seeing a sort of urgency on your face.

“What’s up?”

“Can you watch my class, please? I’ve got a situation here,” you tip your head to the side to gesture to Karam, still gripping your hand and sniffling. “I promise I’ll pay you back somehow, lunch, lunch duty, recess duty, whatever. Just, please?”

Melissa takes one look at you pleading eyes and knows she can’t say no to you, especially not with a sad little friend by your side. “You owe me nothing. I’ll bring the kids to my room and you can come get ‘em after,” she says with a tone she hopes shows she’s being genuine.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you rush out, immediately your attention falling back to the tears rolling down Karam’s cheeks. Melissa scoots over to your room, corralling the kids across the hall with an excited tone to keep their eyes on her and not you and their classmate.

With the extra bodies in the room, Melissa finds that the doorway was a good place to observe all the kids in her room. Though she tries to keep her eagle eyes on the students, they slowly slide to your form in the hall, crouched down below the boy’s eye level with his hand in yours. Her ears feel like a radio, tuning into the hushed volume you keep.

“It’s okay to be sad, buddy. Everything and everyone is so new, you’re allowed to be scared,” you say as you wipe his cheeks with a tissue, “and you and I both know that baba and daddy would never bring you somewhere that wasn’t safe. And Pickle, he��s here for you, and so am I.”

The boy leans into you for a hug, and your arms wrap tightly around him. Melissa tries not to stare, but she’s unable to take her eyes off the interaction. The way you rock him gently side to side, it was clear you weren’t letting go until he did. She vaguely remembers you mentioning that being a rule of yours when you first started at Abbott, when you took over her third grade class and her entire field of vision. 

Melissa averts her eyes back to the kids as the hug ends, but she still listens discreetly. You wipe Karam’s face as you speak, “let’s go get you some water, okay? And maybe, if you use those puppy eyes, nurse Makiah will let you pick out a lollipop. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Do we have to come back to recess?” The shyness in his voice makes you pout.

“Yes, because Miss Schemmenti was super nice to watch all our friends for me while we’re talking, and I’m sure she’d like her room back,” you peek up to Melissa quickly, “and when we get back, we’re gonna say a big ‘thank you,’ alright?”

“Yeah,” Karam answers quietly, but his next words are so quiet you barely hear them, “thank you.”

“Of course, chicken. Let’s go.” Melissa pretends she’s not watching you walk down the hall with a hand still in Karam’s, her eyes switch back to her class when you disappear around the corner.

When you return to get the kids from Melissa, she instead insists that you just sit out the rest of recess in her room since the students were already playing together. That’s the only reason, nothing else. You keep a cautious eye on Karam as he sits down to draw with one of Melissa’s students, and once you see him start to arrange his colors, you drift your attention to the woman next to you.

“Thank you, seriously. And I will be paying you back for this,” you say, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“I said you ain’t gotta do anyth-”

You cut her off, “I said. I’m. Paying. You. Back. Just accept it, I’m not budging.”

All she gives as an answer is a huff through her nose, but the smile that stretches her lips makes you feel fluttery. Her smile is not a rare sight, but it’s rare that you get to see it this close. When she faces away for only a couple seconds, you take the time to just take her in. Beautiful.

In the hall, a conversation between Barbara and Ava about clearing an extra bulletin board for the kindergarteners art projects was halted when they caught Melissa watching you with Karam. Both women looked at her, unseen even by Melissa’s typically sensitive attention, and all they saw was a soft putty of a woman. When you returned to the classroom, they slowly got closer to see what was going on, curiosity drawing them in.

All they could see were gentle, shy smiles and hidden glances of adoration for each other. It clicked in their minds at the same moment. Their best friends had it bad for each other.

Their plan was formed in a single glance.

—☽—

“So… What are you gonna do about Red?” Ava asks as she reaches the midpoint of her braid.

You’re sitting behind her on a cushion, parting a section in the back of her head to start on a braid yourself. Your focus makes your response time slower and quieter than usual, “what d’ya mean?”

Ava’s chuckles, “how you’ve got the hots for Schemmenti.”

Her obvious tone makes you stall, too long, but you try to deflect anyway, “I’ve got no clue what you mean.”

She laughs. Ava laughs and it would be in your face if she weren’t so busy with her hair. She doesn’t need to turn to know you’ve got that shocked expression on your face, the one where your eyes are wide and blank, face otherwise neutral, but she knows the expression well. The first time she’d seen it was the day she met you in seventh grade, and she proclaimed you her best friend to everyone in the cafeteria, just a mere three hours after meeting each other.

“Don’t lie to me, Gremlin,” she jokes, using her nickname for you she adopted from your favorite movie as a kid, “I know when you like someone, and you want that Italian sub to Italian dom you.”

“I hate you,” you groan, “if you mention even a single thing to her Ava, I will buy out all the caramel hair from the beauty supply and you’ll never see it again.” She gasps, as if it were a real threat you could carry out on your budget, but she knows how serious you are. With a roll of her eyes, Ava decides to hold off until you’re not braiding her hair to annoy you more.

Much later into the night and all there is really left to do is trim, seal, and add products to her roots, Ava knows she can’t let the topic of the previous conversation go. She decides to speak up while she trims the last few front pieces and you pick up the hair packaging and combs from around the room.

“Just saying though, if you stopped making ‘I wanna have your babies’ eyes, you could ask her out,” Ava tries to explain. She almost adds a what’s the worst that could happen? but she knows exactly where your mind will go.

“I don’t wanna ‘have her babies,’ you freak,” you sigh as you get some hot water, “I just… I dunno. I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with her when she inevitably rejects me.”

She’s obsessed with you, she won’t reject you, Ava wants to say. Even if others, and even herself, would label her selfish, the one thing she doesn’t ever let slide is you letting your insecurity get the best of you. She likes her extra job as your personal hype-woman when you get in your head. Ava weighs her option, “well… you could put out some feelers. Invite her somewhere or, I don’t know, look her in the eye when you talk to her.”

“You’re right,” you say with a gruffness that she knows is defeat. If she can just get you and Melissa talking, interacting more, then maybe she and Barb can figure out a way to worm you two together.

“You do like her, don’t you?” She knows the answer, she wants you to say it though.

There’s a deep inhale before you answer, “of course I do. She- she’s so- I do like her, so much. Like, I want to bite a chunk out of the table when she looks at me.”

“Yeah, don’t do that, we don’t know where they’ve been,” Ava says with a touch of disgust, “and she’ll think you’re more of a freak than you already are.” She rightfully earns a smack on the shoulder at that one.

Dipping the ends of her hair into the hot water, you think silently. Ava has a point, if you spent even a tenth of the time you spend thinking about Melissa, when she was right in front of you, talking to her instead, you’d probably not be so nervous at the thought of making eye contact with her. Sometimes it was nice though, just getting to look at her, seeing her easy smile when she speaks to Barbara and the playful glint in her eye when she lovingly picks on Jacob. Whenever her attention falls on you, you shy away. Maybe Ava has a point.

At Barbara and Melissa’s weekly brunch that same Saturday morning, their conversation falls down a similar path.

Ever the professional deterrer, Melissa manages to push the conversation away from the topic of you, trying to keep Barb on Gerald or bible club. Usually her friend catches the hint to stay away from the topic, but there’s no way she was getting out of this one.

“So… are we gonna keep beating around the bush or are we going to talk about it?”

Melissa just sips her mimosa, suddenly interested in the painting across the room.

“Melissa.”

What… interesting brush strokes.

“Melissa Ann, so help me.”

She turns back, “yes, Barb?”

“Don’t ‘yes, Barb’ me. Spill,” there is no room for argument.

“There’s nothing to spill, Barb,” Melissa says, and she means it. It’s clear Barbara had picked up on her feelings for you, but nothing had been done to go past acknowledging she cared for you.

Barb tilts her head to the side, “oh, really? So, we’re just going to pretend that you’re not utterly infatuated with everyone’s new favorite third grade teacher?” Melissa stares at Barbara with wide eyes, thrown off by the blunt nature of her inquiry. Her friend only shakes her head, “for the good Lord’s sake, Melissa. Anyone with eyes can see you’ve got feelings for them, and I know you know that too.”

Green eyes shift away from brown, and they instead stare at the drink in front of her, nervous hands coming up to play with the umbrella to keep them busy instead of shaking in her lap. What Barb said wasn’t untrue, she knows it. Barbara Howard is always right in the end. But that isn’t where the apprehension in her gut stems from.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Melissa mumbles, insecurity from her mind reaching her throat.

Barbara can sense it and tries a softer approach, “I think I can say on good authority that the feelings are probably mutual. You could give it a shot, they’d be lucky to have you.”

“And what’s that good authority?”

“My eyes,” Barbara deadpans, her face reading are you serious?

The conversation stops there, more of a self preservation move for the kindergarten teacher. Underneath the silence from Melissa, it’s obvious her mind is going in circles trying to weigh her options. Did she have feelings for you? Yes. But would she do anything if she wasn’t one hundred percent certain you’d return her feelings? No. She was almost certain you didn’t, you rarely ever looked her in the eye and you got all quiet and mumbly when she spoke.

Conclusion: Barb’s nuts.

—☽—

When Monday comes back around, you feel like the air in the lounge, or at least around your table, is different. Barbara’s eyes keep shifting between you and Melissa in what she thinks are subtle glances, but the constant eyes on you start making you nervous. Shifting uncomfortably for a moment, you rise from your chair to go to the coffee pot to get away from the prying. While your back is to them, a different form of attention falls on you. Olive eyes scan over you with a soft glint, taking the opportunity to admire you when you’re not looking. Her attention feels different from Barb’s, you can feel it without seeing it. It’s warm, all consuming.

When you turn back around, you can see a section of Melissa’s hair swinging slightly from motion. She was looking at you, and she was hiding it horribly. Instead of mentioning it, you just sit and check your school email. In the weekly scheduling, you see that the recess duty that you typically had with Mrs. Benning from sixth grade, was now with Melissa for the entire week.

Your eyebrows jump slightly at the find, before you have to fight an eye roll at Ava’s obvious meddling. Seeing this, Melissa speaks up, “something interesting?”

“No, no,” you barely get out at a normal cadence, “just switches in the schedule, wasn’t expecting it.”

She nods slowly, “are you… not okay with that?” You try not to pout at the insecurity that bleeds just the smallest amount in her question.

“Of course I’m okay with it, no reason not to be,” you hope your genuineness was showing, “just different is all.” A muted smirk crosses her lips before she takes a sip of her coffee to cover her face, you pretend not to notice the move, as well as the butterflies swarming in your stomach. You turn your attention to your phone in your lap.

To AVA ♔ : you’re not slick

From AVA ♔ : good thing i wasn’t trying to be

From AVA ♔ : get up in that cannoli

To AVA ♔ : speaking privileges revoked until further notice

You try to not think about the prospect of an extra half hour with Melissa today, and for the rest of the week, but the thought of her crosses your mind and brings a smile to your face. When you are walking your kids back from music, you selfishly take the extra second you’re in the hall to glance towards Melissa’s classroom. Cursive letters on the board in her loopy handwriting being narrated by her expressive face and fast-moving hands. Another grin crosses your lips before you spin on your heel back to your room.

As lunch rolls around, there’s a giddy feeling in your chest that grows with every passing second. Was she even going to talk to you? Maybe not, but time with Melissa is time with Melissa. Just when you’re sliding your gloves on, there’s a tap at your door. Red hair tucked under an Eagles hat and thick black jacket, she’s never been more beautiful.

Winter at Abbott meant beautifully crafted snowmen that had just a touch of dirt on it, but the kids just decided it was freckles. Most of them were working together on their snowmen, while others were trying to see how long they could hang upside down on the monkey bars in their snow clothes. Melissa, after five minutes of churning the idea over in her mind, moves closer to you, the nylon of your jackets making a fssh sound as they brush together gently. The red on her cheeks was likely from the cold, but the darker shade that blossoms at you smiling and turning to her, that’s all you.

The silence between you is easy, for once it doesn’t make Melissa skeptical. It’s comforting, no nervous rambling or awkward attempts to fill the silence, just peaceful silence as your shoulder moves closer to hers.

Tuesday is just the same, with Melissa coming to your classroom to pick you up for recess duty. Wednesday you meet her in your doorway. The peaceful silence is broken when you check your phone to see copious texts in the teacher group chat, most of which are Janine and Jacob and only two are Gregory. All you let out is a little hum.

“What’s going on?” Melissa asks from beside you, her eyes staying on Marcus attempting to climb on top of the monkey bars.

“Groupchat’s going crazy. Janine and Jacob want a ‘teacher’s night out plus Ava,’ and they’re asking if everyone’s good to go next Friday at seven,” your tone suggests a bit of disinterest, but if Melissa goes, you could be easily persuaded.

Her brows scrunch for only a half second before asking, “what bar?”

“The Penman’s Alcove? Guess Jacob suggested it,” you say after scrolling through the nearly forty messages.

“Sounds like Jacob suggested it,” she says with a sputtered laugh. To her delight, you chuckle from beside her, and she brings her full attention to you, “you going?”

You bite your inner lip and flick your eyes to the side, “maybe. Are you?”

“Maybe.”

—☽—

Ava, who always demands you pick her up when you go out, insists on driving to the bar. When she gets to your apartment and does a once over of your jeans and loose-fitting sweater, she gives you a face of disapproval.

“That is not club attire. What ladies are you going to pick up if you’re dressed like a grandma?”

You roll your eyes as you move to let her in, “it’s not a club, it’s a bar. That Jacob picked out. And I’m not trying to ‘pick up’ ladies?”

“Aw, you’re already committed to Schemmenti. Cute,” her laugh at her own comment is cut off by the pillow you whip at her head, another ready if she pipes up again, “no need to get violent, I’ll stop.”

Her only reply is a huff as you grab your boots and shove in your fluffy-socked feet. Ava rises off the couch, leaving the pillow-turned-missile behind. When she’d asked you earlier in the day if ‘your woman’ was coming to the bar, you’d only shrugged, but with a quick text to Barbara, Ava knew the redhead would be there.

Barbara and Ava had made a pact, that despite their differing reasons for not wanting to go, would only attend the outing to insure that you and Melissa would both go as well. It had taken some convincing on Melissa’s end, but the moment her best friend said your name, her tune changed. She agreed to go as long as she drove herself there, so that when she wanted to inevitably leave early, she could.

As Ava pulls into the parking lot of the bar, neither of you hold back the rolling of your eyes. It was very Jacob. You share a look with your best friend, silently asking what did we agree to?

The Penman’s Alcove is tiny, shoved into one of the smallest brick buildings either of you had ever seen. One window was completely blocked off by a decorative book display, the other gave view to the wooden bar top and wooden support beam that was turned into a cylindrical bookcase with lights weaving around it. What is lacking in space, it clearly made up for in atmosphere.

“You both came!” Jacob’s voice echoes from the door to where you and Ava stand as you evaluate the building. You immediately elbow Ava to stop the joke that you could feel on the tip of her tongue. 

“Said I would, didn’t I?” you asked as you got closer, appreciating how Jacob switched his arms from the instinctive hug he wanted to give to giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Anyone else here yet?”

“Well, Janine, Gregory, me, duh, Barbara, and Melissa just got here, so,” his voice becomes a little sheepish, “you’re the last ones here.”

“Fashionably late,” you and Ava say at the same time, though your tone is more flat since you only said it because you knew she would.

Walking into the bar, the small space didn’t feel bigger, just smaller as you realized just how many shelves of countless books there were. The twenty person capacity limit was starting to make sense as you quickly side stepped around other people to keep up with Jacob. Everyone comes into view, but as green eyes meet yours, cameo light surrounds her and she’s all you can see. The stutter in your step is noticed by no one but Ava, who subtly grabs your arm to pull you closer to everyone, closer to Melissa.

Greetings and small talk fill the space, but all of it is background noise. When Janine finally releases you from her energetic retelling of the four hours it’s been since she last saw you, your attention is finally able to rest on the woman who it had been dying to be on. Melissa sees your eyes flick around until they find her, and she curses how her heart flutters at the way you move towards her in an instant.

Leaning your arms on the bartop, you lean over slightly to order a rum and coke before turning entirely towards the redhead. Even though it had been barely four hours since you’d seen her, you felt yourself missing her. Her eyes, her hair, her laugh, especially the one she barks out when she can’t control herself and laughs suddenly. Something in the navy shirt she wore instead of her bright greens and pinks told you she wanted to fit into the environment, like she didn’t want anyone to see her in such a… Jacob place. Her attempt to keep attention away, yet for you it was impossible not to be drawn to her.

Just like every other time you saw her, your eyes quickly dipped to her neck, a tiny smile passing your lips at her Saint Dominic pendant she had received from her Nana before she’d passed. When you met her eyes, the small smile on your lips grew, and hers did to match.

“Thought you’d never show up,” Melissa says playfully, but with a quiet tone, her words only for you.

“Surprised you even showed,” you mimicked her tone.

Melissa weighs her options before replying, “Barbara told me I should, told me I can count it as my good act of the year.” She relishes in your silent laugh, little puffed breaths leaving you as you turn your face away from her just for a moment to hide. Melissa had realized three days into knowing you that this was her favorite thing, this quiet laugh of yours, she knew that when you turned away, it meant it was genuine.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” you say with earnest, “if that's any consolation.”

A smile plays on glossy, pink lips, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

Two drinks later, and you found yourself meandering through the shelves of books, naturally being drawn to the fantasy section that was oddly close to the classics you also enjoyed. The small bar had reached capacity only a half hour after you’d arrived, and the bustling conversation was starting to pierce your eardrums. The cushions on the floor had become your new seat, in this almost-quiet corner.

The light vibrations of footsteps approaching brings your mind out of the dragon story you were falling into. Your eyes look up to see red hair contrasting against the shadows from the shelves. Melissa lowers herself carefully onto the cushion beside you, taking utmost care in not getting too far into your space. Her finger pokes the book in your hands, pushing it closer to you to read the cover, only a low hum leaving her throat.

She bumps her knee with yours, a silent you alright? She’s seen you get overwhelmed at assemblies and work parties before, often keeping an eye on you as you stuck to a corner, too polite to leave the room. You bump her knee back, a little smile on your lips, a quiet I’m okay. Melissa plays with the creases in her jeans as she tries to think of what to say, but you beat her to it.

“You know what’s fucked? You can’t even check out the books here,” you state with exasperation. “What’s the point of having all these books if you can only read them if you come here?”

Melissa warms with affection at your word, “No one would bring them back, hon.”

“I would,” you mumble with an incredulous tone in your voice, “but no, not even a checkout fee or, I don’t know, collateral.”

“Collateral!” Melissa laughs out. “Gonna hand over your watch to hold onto until you bring the book back?”

“I’d give them my car for those early editions of Mary Shelley’s work,” you half-joke as you nod towards the faded green and blue books. You look at Melissa for a moment, reading her face quickly before leaning into her space, “don’t even suggest stealing them.”

“Would they even notice?”

“These IPA-enjoyers? Definitely, unfortunately.”

Melissa never cared much for the classics, especially not the ones assigned to her in school. She preferred the historical fiction and true crime novels her grandfather introduced her to, but there was something intriguing about the ones you were showing her. There is peace in the way your fingers trace over the pages, a sort of reverence in how you hold each book. Sylvia Plath and Emily Brontë, Greek tragedies and comedies, they never sounded this interesting as they did when they came from your lips.

The world outside of this hidden corner continues to disappear around the two of you, the prying eyes peeking around the corner are completely lost on the two of you. Your eyes on the books, Melissa’s eyes on you. Ava and Barbara’s eyes, on the other hand, were flicking between the two of you before finding each other's eyes. A shared nod began the next step in their plan.

Ava, in a highly out of character fashion, quietly left the bar without saying anything to anyone, and drove off towards Iggy’s apartment. Barbara, pretending not to notice, went back to her conversation with Gregory regarding what he plans on growing in the garden for springtime. It’s Janine who notices Ava’s lacking presence, she peeks out into the parking lot, and sure enough, the silver car you’d arrived in was gone.

In a child-like fashion, Janine tugs on Barbara’s sleeve to gain her attention, “Ava’s gone.”

“What?” Barbara responds with faux surprise.

“Ava, she left. Like, gone. Not here,” without having to ask Barbara to be the one to tell you, Janine was definitely hinting at not being the one to say your best friend ditched you here.

The kindergarten teacher follows the maze of shelves, steps quickening as she gets closer to hushed voices in the furthest corner. In your own little, say you and Melissa, her legs stretched out as she leaned back against her hands while you sat close to her in criss-cross. There are two piles of older books in front of you, ones you had already shown her and the ones you were going to, and Melissa seemed completely unbothered by the infodumping you laid upon her.

Barbara politely clears her throat to make you aware of her presence, watching you nearly jumping away from Melissa as you realize the closeness between you. Pretending not to notice she speaks carefully, “dear, I just wanted to tell you that Ava left a couple of minutes ago.”

The nerves you felt dissipate, annoyance and a small anger taking its place, “what do you mean? She fully just left? Did she even say anything?”

“No, she must’ve snuck out. Janine noticed before the rest of us that she’d taken off,” Barbara is impressed by her own ability to fib so easily.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, keeping yourself from exploding. You rise from your spot next to the redhead, who is quick to follow in your stride, and grab your phone to call you friend. Speedily stepping through the shelves, you step outside as you press Ava’s contact.

She picks up on the second ring, which only pisses you off further, “what’s up, boo?”

“Where the fuck are you? You did not just seriously ditch me,” you waste no time.

“That little library was not the vibe. Plus, you were too busy nerding it up with Red,” she jokes, almost mockingly.

“You were my ride, Ava,” you sigh, “this isn’t cool, especially when I’m going to have to ask Janine to drive me home since she carpooled with Jacob and Gregory.”

“I know who you can ask for a ride,” the laugh she speaks through only hammers home your aggravation, “maybe she’ll give you more than one.”

A hard groan escapes your throat, “you owe me big time, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank me later,” she hangs up on you before you can respond, the beeping tone of the disconnection feels more mocking than your friend straight up laughing in your ear.

When you step back inside, your brows are furrowed, deep creases on your forehead as you practically steam with anger. Never before would Janine, Gregory, or Jacob say they were intimidated by you, but right now, they can’t deny that you are almost as frightening as Melissa’s angry walk. Barbara looks at Melissa pointedly, motioning with her head towards you to tell her to talk to you.

The redhead is already in motion, immediately in front of you, “what did she say?”

Sarcasm and irritation drop from your voice, “the ‘library’ wasn’t ‘her vibe,’ so she’s apparently ditching me to ride home with Gregory and the Chipmunks.”

She doesn’t want to laugh at your predicament, but she can’t help it. Her hand rises to rub your arm reassuringly, “I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t ha-”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Let me get you home,” the gentleness in her voice makes the icy anger in you melt into a puddle, the hand on your arm was grounding.

“Okay,” your voice just above a whisper in the space between you.

“Okay,” her tone matching yours as she smiles.

Melissa’s car is warm, her presence beside you warmer. With only a couple blocks left before you reach your apartment, you find yourself wishing you knew how to slow, or even stop, time. Would inviting her upstairs seem forward? Is asking her if she wants coffee better? No, stupid, who wants coffee at ten at night? All you need is to be around her.

When her car parks in the lot of your building, neither of you move, not you to get out or her to tell you to. You turn your face towards her, resting your chin on your shoulder, peering through your lashes at her. She matches your position, looking back at you with a little grin.

“Thank you for listening to me,” your voice is quiet and insecure.

Melissa leans a little closer, “thank you for letting me.”

“I’ll see you Monday?” You don’t want to leave, but despite it being Friday, it has also been a school day. You’re tired, and you can see in her slightly droopy eyes that she is too.

“Bright and early,” she answers, eyes flicking to your lips shortly in a way you wish you hadn’t seen. She makes it impossible to want to leave.

Melissa stays in her parking spot until you disappear into the building, not before you glance once more at her and wave shyly. Her head rests against the steering wheel as she struggles to compose herself, before pulling out on the street.

You both fall asleep that night to dreams about the secret corner you’d found yourselves in, books stacked around while your eyes stayed on each other.

—☽—

There’s a certain pep in your step come Monday morning, but a small amount of dread knowing you’ll have to face Ava later. She knew better to keep her distance over the weekend, but though your annoyance with her was fading, it was definitely there. You push into the lounge, immediately gravitating towards the coffeemaker.

You enjoy the hum of the TV, Jim Gardener’s voice coming from the speakers as you focus on Melissa in your periphery. Clicking steps in the hallway stiffen your back, all eyes in the room shifting to you as your best friend, boss, and ditcher enters. The cocky smile on her face falls when you stand and leave the room without a word.

“Seriously? Still mad?” Ava asks with such a genuine tone that Gregory’s head drops into his hands.

Melissa speaks before Ava can even blink, feeling like she had to defend you after seeing how upset you’d been, “so selfish you couldn’t even give a heads up? Some best friend you are, ditching them.” Ava only responds by raising her hands in defeat, giving up on an argument with Melissa before it starts.

“You checking on that one or should I?” Mr. Johnson asks from the doorway where he’s collecting the trash, his eyes set on Melissa. His answer is just the second grade teacher pointing at herself in question, surprised that he would’ve thought of her to check on you. His face screws up, “duh? Who else?”

She listens. When Melissa reaches your classroom, quickly carried by fast and angry steps, she sees you at your whiteboard, writing the agenda and date on it. The unusually harsh strokes of your writing show her exactly what mood she’s walking into. She almost jumps when she knocks on the door and your head whips her way, hard face softening.

“Hey,” you breathe out, going back to writing the afternoon’s schedule.

“Hey. I just wanted to check on you,” she she says as she slides the orange marker down towards you.

“I’m fine, really. I’m mostly just pissed Ava left me like that and thinks it’s hilarious. You’d think I would be used to it by now, but apparently not,” you huff, “just like her mom always says, Ava’s gonna Ava.”

“How long you giving her the silent treatment?”

“Till she actually apologizes and doesn’t just assume it’s all good, it’s the only way. I’m not even that mad about it, if she wanted to leave she could’ve just said,” you shift your weight from foot to foot, “it’s the principle of it.”

Melissa glances over your face, grateful you don’t seem to notice, and she realizes it's less anger, more disappointment. It’s so starkly different from the smile that played on your lips and the gleam in your eyes just the other night. She so badly wants that back, she craves your smile.

It took three days for Ava to finally apologize, and she only does when she comes over to your apartment, no interest in letting the other hear her grovel. She hadn’t meant to make you upset, she was just trying to get you and Melissa alone, and so far, her efforts seemed to be working. She was diligent to not let out that it was a joint plan between her and Barbara, and that Melissa was getting played just as much as you.

—☽—

A snow storm Thursday night almost takes out your power, and the chill seeps through the brick walls, forcing you to bed early in a bundle of blankets. You wake up to your phone ringing at five in the morning, only a half hour before your alarm was to go off. Seeing Ava’s contact worried you immediately.

“What?” you say through a yawn, “are you okay?”

“Aw, you love me,” she jokes through her own large yawn.

“I do. Now, what do you want?”

“It’s a snow day, bitch. The roads aren’t too bad, but apparently the buses are fucked.”

You sigh with contentment, “snow day means I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, lazy. I’ll see you tomorrow for wine night?”

You can barely answer through another yawn, “yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

It’s not until ten that you wake up again, sunlight reflecting off the fresh snow and making your room too bright to stay asleep any longer. The air in the room is too cold for your taste, leaving you to wrap your throw blanket around yourself as you trudge out to your kitchen for the promise of warm coffee. As coffee drips into the pot, the star-printed throw is replaced by your favorite grey sweatshirt, the faded university logo still maintaining a touch of the maroon and silver it once was.

The second cup of coffee tastes of cinnamon and cream, the warmth keeping your hands from stiffening under the cold of your building. No matter how much you turned up the heat, the draft made it obsolete. As you pour a third cup, clinging to the warmth it gave, you feel your phone buzz in your Abbott sweatpants.

From Melissa: How busy are you today?

To Melissa: on a snow day? not at all. why? 

From Melissa: I’ve got a surprise for you.

To Melissa: should i be worried?

From Melissa: Do you trust me?

To Melissa: you know i do

When she doesn’t answer, anticipation starts to take hold. It hits you as you nervously sip your coffee, you’re still in your pajamas and Melissa is coming. You tumble down to your room, switching the sweatpants for an old pair of jeans, the faded sweatshirt for a thick black sweater, fluffy socks into slippers. Part of you grapples if you should make coffee for the both of you, the other part tells you a fourth cup may give you a heart attack upon seeing Melissa, your heart would never be able to take it.

A quiet ping from your phone alerts you that Melissa is down in the lot as she waits for you. You don’t even take a moment to answer, just quickly throwing on your denim jacket before hurrying down the steps to the bottom floor. Peeking your head out, you see the only car with lights on, the familiar black car making you smile. The snow had slowed overnight, wisps still quickly sticking to your hair and clothes.

Melissa doesn’t notice your approach, not until you tap on her frosted window with your knuckles, making her jump. She was lost in her mind, thinking about how bad of an idea it was, startling quickly at your tap, but quickly soothed by your smile and little wave. Melissa steps out of the car, leaning against it to keep you from peeking in her window and seeing the passenger seat.

“You really shouldn’t’ve driven, what if the roads were nasty?” you say with concern, despite the fact that you couldn’t be happier with her presence.

“They weren’t, I got here just fine,” she says, placating the worry.

You can’t even hide the smile that shows itself, “what sort of surprise was worth the black ice?”

“There was no black ice,” she laughs, shifting under your gaze, “but I hope it’s a surprise you’ll like.” There’s an unusual nervousness in her, one that you can’t help but feel and want to soothe.

“If it’s from you, I definitely will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Try me,” you cock your head to the side, a sly smirk on your face. Melissa ducks her face, concealing her blush. She opens the door, leaning in to grab the bag from the seat. A deep breath leaves her lungs as she composes herself before facing you. The paper bag is stretched out towards you, green eyes begging you to relieve her of this weight.

You try to be careful, not wanting the gentle snow to touch the contents. Peering up at Melissa, she urges you to open it. You reach in and feel something, a cloth covered board you think, until you feel what you think are pages. A book? No, three.

You pull back your hand, the books coming with it. A faded green cover with black serif text reads Frankenstein, the blue reads The Short-Stories of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley: A Complete Collection, and the final red one, Mathilda. The books you had fawned over a week ago were now in your hands, the very same you said you’d give your car for. No words form, only thick tears in your eyes that you pray don’t fall. They were the exact same books, the copies from the bar, and now they’re in your hands.

You can only look at the redhead, absolutely bewildered. She gives you a weak smile, having a hard time gauging your reaction and you slide the books back into the bag to protect them. There’s no warning, not verbal or even a glint in your eye, before you fling yourself onto her, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Thank you, oh my fucking God, thank you, thank you, what the fuck?” your words fall out of your mouth, barely able to contain the delight running through your veins.

Melissa doesn’t answer right away, only wrapping her arms around you and basking in the feeling of you there. You smell like coffee and cinnamon, she wishes she could find out if your lips taste the same. Neither of you move, not wanting to be the one who breaks away first.

After a minute, your face lifts from her neck, but you don’t remove yourself from her arms. She meets your gaze, watching you watch her. Melissa is the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet, you’re sure of it. But right here, right now? She’d never been more so, nothing else compared to the snow stuck to her lashes, the pink of her cheeks from the chilled air, the lack of makeup across her skin allowing you to see all her freckles and the lines around her eyes.

“You got me the books,” it's a simple sentence, but there’s a weight to it that Melissa almost can’t handle.

She smiles so softly it makes you want to cry, “you love them, you wanted them.” The look in your eyes changes, and Melissa seems to notice. She finally speaks up, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is, at least I hope not,” you answer truthfully.

“Why that look on your face then?” Her lips look so soft, you have to tell her.

You swallow your pride, pursing your lips before telling her the thought that had been on your mind since you met her, “I really want to kiss you.”

It appears she feels the same, Melissa immediately leans into you, lips pressing to yours. You knew they’d be soft, and God were they. Her hands plant themselves on your hips while yours cup her neck, pulling her as close as you possibly can. Spinning suddenly, you find yourself pressed against her car, cold metal freezing you through your layers, but warm lips make the cold feel little. For someone so abrasive, Melissa was so soft, holding you like you were the most precious thing to her. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip, asking for entry. And who are you to deny her?

Her tongue traces yours, a groan comes from deep in your chest that only spurs her on further. She presses impossibly closer to you, hands sliding up to hold you at your ribs, pressing into your jacket in an attempt to get closer. Your blunt nails dig into her neck, not enough to hurt, just to feel more of her. All you’ve wanted since you met her was to be this close, and it felt like an unreachable dream until now.

Her lips pull away, only to be chased by yours. You press gentle, chaste kisses to her lips, and it only becomes more difficult as matching dopey grins grow on your faces. Her hand rises to your cheek, caressing the chilled skin that warms under her touch.

She barely hears your words over her rapidly beating heart, “you’re so pretty.”

“Haven’t seen yourself then, huh?” she jokes, pretending your statement didn’t make her feel like a giggly teenager.

“Funny, but I mean it. You’re so pretty,” your hand shifts around her cup her jaw, “I can’t believe you got those books for me. How?”

She smirks to herself, “I just asked nicely.”

“Nicely? Did you bat your lashes and give them that award-winning smile?” The sarcasm that should have been there sounds more like adoration, the lazy smile on your lips making them look even more kissable than they’d been before.

“Exactly, they just handed them right over,” she feels like a pile of mush with you looking at her like this.

The hand on her jaw pulls her in closer, “they’d be stupid not to.” There’s no chance to reply, just your lips pressing to hers again. It feels as easy as breathing with you, like she was supposed to be doing this the whole time. When you pull away, it’s just barely, a silent request in the way you stroke her cheek.

Reluctantly, she pulls away from you to take her keys out of the ignition and grabs her purse from the floor of the car. An arm wraps around hers as you lead her towards the door to your building, the other tightly holds the books against your chest. It was too soon to say it, but you knew that right here, right now, you were utterly in love with Melissa Schemmenti. The woman who probably threatened the employees at the Penman’s Alcove for the books when they said she couldn’t buy them, the one who listened for two hours as you spoke about authors and books she’d never cared about before.

She cared now. She cared because you did.

Melissa knew the moment you saw the books, that she would do whatever it takes to see that wonder on your face again. She thinks to herself that endeavor would be a good way to spend the rest of her life.

title is from a quote from mary shelley’s mathilda: “you are still, as you ever were, beyond beautiful expression.”

i chose the st. dominic for mel’s pendant bc hes typically worn by educators

feedback appreciated as always <3

[bloogers-boogers]

Abel: stop it! stop it! STOP IT!

*everyone goes silent*

Abel: I'm not Lucifer's son! Can you all already shut the fuck up about it! Can't you guys just accept I'm biologically Adam and Eve’s child?! There's nothing wrong with that! Move on.

Charlie: I'm so sorry Abel..

Angel Dust: I'm not. There's no way you're their kid, you look nothin' like ya pah.

Cain: he has the shape of him.

Abel: HEY!

Cain: but maybe that's because he's fat.

Abel: you're just jealous of the possibility I'm right. Which I am. Cause no matter how many times I tell you I'm our parents kid, you don't believe it!

Cain: cause you're not. I saw it with my own two eyes. Dad got fucked by Lucifer and then suddenly you poofed into existence. So you're not mom's. So no, you're not Adam and Eve’s brat. I am.

Abel: here again with the same bullshit theory that dad birth me and that 'somehow' it was him who had an affair with the devil!

Lucifer: *cough cough* yeah.. theory *cough*..

Cherry bomb: everyone hear me out. It was Eve who fucked Lucifer and Adam birth Abel who was conceive from the affair.

Everyone: ....

Everyone: *starts arguing again*

Adam: *entering the room and heard Abel screaming again that he was son of Adam and Eve*

Adam: you're wrong.

Cain: aHA!!! wait. What? So i was fucking right?! I fucking knew it!! I wasn't having a bad nightmare as a kid! It was a nightmare! A real one. Where you and the devil fucked behind some bushes.

Adam: what? *cough* What're you talking about. No. He's not Eve’s or Lucifer’s. He's Lilith.

Everyone: WHAT?!!

Adam: I thought everyone already knew that? *side eyes Lucifer* what? Why are you acting all surprised? Didn't she tell you?

Lucifer: *still in shock*

Adam: there's literally a whole myth about it. Lilith got envious of Eve being set as her replacement and forced sex with me. Though, they kinda went far off with that one. It was mostly Lilith seducing me with fruits and a nice song and I admit, I was dumb to let that cunt seduce me, but, she was hot. And that song was a banger so we fucked and it was awesome.

Vaggie: but those were all myths! How did you think we'd know, they're millions of stories about you guys!

Abel: ... so.. all this time it was you who cheated on mom?

Adam: oh fuck no! That cheating bitch cheated on me first! I just went ahead and cheated with my original wife. It wasn't even cheating, we were separated at the time. Even if divorced wasn't a thing back then, me and your mom split up after the whole apple thing before we reconcile and banged again.

Cain: *having a really bad headache now* so you're telling me you fell in love with Lilith again at some point in that story??

Adam: *sigh* I didn't fall in love with Lilith. I was confused. So was she. We were never in love. It was more of a sense purpose kinda thing? Lilith’s purpose was being challenged after being told Eve took it away. So she figured if she took me away, fuck, have a kid with me, which was basically what we were originally meant to do. It would finally sastified her. Which it did cause we immediately separated after banging and she got pregnant. She "seduced me" by wooing me, stroking my ego and with promises like I would no longer have the need to want to find a sense of purpose, like her. But unlike her, my purpose was never fulfilled because I was meant to have children with my wife and build humanity. It was never stated for me to do it specifically with Lilith. It was "you, Adam, are meant to name all the animals of this planet, build humanity alongside your wife, who would partner and care for you and your children into death due apart" or some shit like that. While Lilith unintentionally found a loophole with hers, she, was meant to birth a child from Adam. Specifically. She did and moved on. Well, kinda? Cause she still has that itch to check on me sometimes, bitch about my shit and then turn it around to asking how's Abel.

In short. Lucifer stole Lilith from me. They ran off, she came back years after, took me while I was currently separated from your mother, we fucked, she left after birthing Abel, I assume back to Lucifer? And I went back with Eve. I discovered she had birth Cain and Azura while I was away. Eve and I raised Abel.

Cain: I need a drink..

Lucifer: so that's where Lilith went off after we had that argument...

Abel: someone kill me... again.

Cherry bomb: this is one fucked up family

[thewadapan]

School Days review

Yeah, School Days is actually pretty good after all.

When you google "School Days", on the first page of results there's a reddit thread asking "hey, why do people hate this show?" OP gives a succinct summary of the show's themes and praises it for its tight focus and psychological depth.

The comments in that thread are fucking crazy. The top-voted comment includes this absolute gem: "Sekai is an emotionally manipulative bitch". Some users gesture towards a faint understanding that School Days is a deconstruction of harem anime, but almost to a one they claim the character writing is unrealistic. Nobody seems able to look past the show's metatextual meaning to just look at it on a straightup subtextual level—that is to say, it's not just being different to other anime for the sake of contrarianism, it's making a serious point about misogyny and toxic masculinity. Describing Makoto as a "character" at all is almost missing the point; he's practically a force of nature, and the vast majority of the show is concerned with the psychological manoeuvring of the girls in his class trying to manage and shape his behaviour.

I only know about School Days because @weaselandfriends is constantly banging a drum about it being a secret masterpiece. Gee, I wonder who the OP of that thread was! Cannot imagine being on a "School Days slaps" grindset for eight fucking years now.

(CW: discussion of underage sex, full spoilers follow)

I'm going to take a cowardly centrist route and say that School Days does in fact slap on a conceptual level, but that the execution in many places leaves a bit to be desired. It often feels repetitive. I watched the thing on 1.5x speed because, as someone who reads fast, watching subbed anime is like watching paint dry. The dialogue often feels awkward (unintentionally so, as in), which I'm willing to partially chalk up to the translation; maybe some of the clunkier lines feel more natural in the original Japanese. The imagery is often kind of laughably blunt: in some cases it works, like Kotonoha's red yarn like she's pulling her own fucking arteries out of her body, and in other cases it feels derivative and hackneyed, like the whistling kettle in the final episode. Maybe that was more original in 2007, I don't know—I would've seen the same thing in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire two years prior.

School Days does set out to pull the wool over the eyes of its presumably-mostly-young-men audience, by putting them in Makoto's POV. The show is adapted from an eroge, where the player literally would have inhabited Makoto and made his choices for him, and the "objective" of the game would have been to unlock sex scenes with all the schoolgirls. The trick with the anime is that it removes the possibility of choice, creating an impactful dissonance as Makoto's actions become increasingly alien and harmful. Inversely, as Makoto's sexual exploits escalate, we see less and less of them; by the end, the whole thing is routine, not eroticised in the slightest, we see people putting clothes on afterwards, sneaking around darkened rooms.

At the start, though, it's all panty shots and boobs. And like, how do you depict the objectification of women, from an internal perspective, without just... objectifying women? This has basically always been the classic problem with satire. If there is a way of doing it, School Days hasn't figured it out, so it just rolls up its sleeves and gets on with it. Where School Days stumbles, in my opinion, is that the fanservice shots leak out of Makoto's POV and into the scenes where it's just the girls on their own. Nevertheless, I think that even pretty early on School Days is unmistakably saying, "this is a bad thing". There's a discordant note to everything, a threat of another shoe waiting to drop. At the start, it takes the form of these innocuous remarks as the characters try to interact in good faith: Sekai is constantly like, "There's nothing wrong with feeling attracted to a girl! But maybe she doesn't feel comfortable with it! Have you thought about how she might feel?"

That's the great tension of Sekai, and indeed of much of the show's conflict: there is a world where Makoto and Sekai are just friends, and where Makoto is faithful to Kotonoha, and everyone lives happily ever after. Maybe Sekai really is earnestly trying to cross this gulf between genders, and wants to just make Makoto understand, so everyone can be happy. But from the start, there's a question of Sekai's motives; embodied by Sekai's friend Setsuna, who trails after her constantly asking, "But do you like him really?"

Setsuna is an interesting character with her own motives. There's a reading where she has a crush on Sekai, but can't pursue it because of her family's impending emigration; she ends up hanging around Makoto and desperately attempting to protect him from the consequences of his actions to preserve his relationship with Sekai, expressly stating that she wants Makoto to be a proxy for her after she's gone (though leaving any romantic feelings unspoken, that's just my interpretation). This escalates to the point of her having sex with Makoto on the condition that he breaks off another engagement with Otome, which is such a self-defeatingly doomed gambit that it becomes tragically clear Setsuna has lost all control over the situation. I got the impression that Setsuna somewhat envied the other girls' entanglements with Makoto: the bit where she kisses him while he's asleep, in an attempt to create a personal memory before she leaves forever, is haunting. Like Sekai, Setsuna ends up manufacturing a romance between herself and Makoto as a way to be with him "by proxy", without earnestly confronting her own feelings.

Anyway, my point is that early on, everyone is treating Makoto like a person, which is sort of their mistake. They're like, oh, a boy with a crush, how cute! What's the worst that could come of this? He's a bit clumsy, but I'm sure he means well! And progressively, mercilessly, the show is like: no, he does not mean well. This dude has absolutely nothing in his life except sex. Girls only exist to him as people to have sex with. Guys practically don't exist, as he can't have sex with them. And for these teenagers who are discovering their sexuality, the very fact that Makoto soon starts having these rumours circulating around him is what gives him some allure: he's a sexual entity, he can be thought of in that way, there must be some reason all these girls are acting so crazy over him. Even a character like Hikari, who early on was crushing heavily on the anime's one (1) other male character, Taisuke, ends up taking her turn with Makoto; whatever feelings she had for Taisuke are forgotten, the anime doesn't even bother establishing how that romance works, because it doesn't need to, we've already seen Makoto use his exact same wiles on like three girls already.

School Days has aged well not just because the years since have yielded a better cultural understanding of its subject matter, but for its "production design": what would have been a timely present-day setting at the point of its release ends up turning the whole thing into an early-2000s period-piece. The fashion and environments are distinctly noughties. Perhaps the most consistent bit of visual symbolism in the whole thing is the flip-phone: whenever a character is holding their phone, you can think of them holding their heart in their hands. They're like the fucking soul gems from Madoka Magica. Sometimes, people leave their hearts in the other room, or block each others' hearts, or search their hearts for good memories. The "cell phone charm" from the first episode is brought up towards the very end, seeming bitterly quaint in retrospect. Right before she kills him, Sekai sends Makoto a text which just reads "sorry" copied and pasted hundreds of times. And of course, the ED shows a propped-open cellphone with a slideshow of photos of the girls.

I think in terms of its place in history, School Days speaks to this information age where young girls are being bombarded with cultural messaging that the best way to get ahead is to sexualise oneself while simultaneously slamming everyone else for their sexuality. Girls aren't just competing with one another for the attention of boys; now, they're competing with online pornography. Sekai works as a waitress at a maid cafe (?), and sometimes wears the outfit for Makoto when they have sex. During the School Festival, the girls theme their class as a maid cafe (drawing on Sekai's experience, I think?), and are shown using "absolute territory" as a last-ditch resort to steal people from the other classes. As part of the festival, they have a secluded area curtained off with a bed, encouraging couples to go there for sex acts—but later, it turns out some of the girls have set up a camcorder, and they use the footage to reveal how everyone is cheating on everyone else. While the exact events are obviously taken to an extreme, subtextually everything in School Days tracks 100% with my own experience growing up in a Bri'ish high school, and it feels like things have only gotten worse since social media really tightened its grip on our society.

The most common talking point I see regarding this show is that the characters are "stupid". And it's like, no, they're not stupid, what planet are you on, they're fucking children! (They're children, fucking!) Most of them have probably never been in a relationship before! Everyone in the show is pursuing their own interests; it's just that often, they're in denial about the reality of the situation, because to acknowledge the reality would run against those interests. It's funny, Makoto hardly changes his behaviour throughout the whole show—it just becomes more extreme—but the only thing that affects whether or not his behaviour with Sekai is good or not is whether or not Kotonoha is his girlfriend. The use of "girlfriend" as a role is weaponised by both Kotonoha and Sekai against the other constantly; like declaring "you're It!" At once point while cooking for the school festival, Makoto starts groping Sekai's ass, and she goes, "Geez, stop it! Stop it I said! What'll you do if someone sees us?", only for Makoto to reply, "Then it's okay if no-one sees us?"; this motif of a private sin recurs with Setsuna's character, particularly in the masked play that crops up a couple of times. In what context is an act of desire okay, or not okay?

Halfway through the show, I remembered Emily is Away, a short Western indie visual novel. Released in 2015, Emily is Away is very consciously an early-2000s period piece, wearing the whole time period as an affectation. The whole game is a series of text conversations on an IM client with a girl; after key choices, you are told "emily will remember that".

I fucking hated Emily is Away when I played it. It made me so, so cross. Because after I finished my first playthrough, and got a miserable, unsatisfying end, I naturally started the whole thing over and tried again. I picked different favourite bands. I acted completely differently. And yet, no matter what I picked, during the timeskips between sections, my viewpoint character would do the exact same shit and the relationship fell apart in exactly the same way. The second playthrough was a complete waste of time. It seemed like I, the player, was being railroaded, that the writer simply hadn't the imagination to conceive of a truly interactive narrative with a wildly diverging chain of events.

But of course, that's the whole point, obviously. Emily is Away plays a mean trick on the player, where it outright lies that "you" are making meaningful choices, when in fact "you" are merely spectating the actions of the viewpoint character, a specific guy who is, by nature, a certain way. It posits that all this shit on the computer just doesn't fucking matter, it has nothing to do with how we feel about each other, that it's only our actions in the real world that matter. The thesis of Emily is Away is that sometimes, for some immutable reason, shit just doesn't work out between two people, and there's nothing you could have done differently that would have changed that.

In the timeline where you go the party, you regret going to the party. In the timeline where you don't go, you regret not going. So, the game says, what's the point in regretting at all?

I totally understood this, after finishing the game. But, fuck, I was still pissed about it. The game lied to my face. It put me in the position of being a shitty person, and I didn't like that. It left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm still not sure if Emily is Away is actually any good; I think I like it conceptually, but maybe the writing sucks, I played it eight years ago. My point is that I think School Days is trying to pull the same trick as this one game, but in a much more mean-spirited way, to much more devastating effect, and I suppose I can't be too surprised that it pissed off a lot of people. If I hadn't known upfront what to expect- well, I wouldn't be watching ecchi anime in the first place, but you get the point, maybe I would've been pissed too.

If you break out of the "anime" mindset for even a second, and allow yourself to think that what you're watching is a frank portrayal of events, rather than some hyperreal cartoon, then Makoto is obviously just a little sexual predator. He's constantly pushing the girls past their limits, groping tits, going in for kisses, often against their express wishes. He initiates all the sex we see, and while in a certain sense it's all consensual, everyone involved is under the age of consent, and the show is making a very strong case for why underaged sex is a problem. When Sekai gets pregnant, Makoto wants nothing to do with her—"It's not my fault!"—but it's made clear he wasn't using any contraception, so, c'mon.

School Days is very deliberate in omitting adult characters entirely. Teachers mostly exist in the form of textbooks being read offscreen. I think we get a line of dialogue from Sekai's mom, if I remember right? It presents this world where Makoto basically has free reign to do whatever he wants to the girls, and everybody knows about it, but nobody is doing anything about it. When Sekai murders Makoto, there isn't a scene where anyone notices his absence, finds out. Kotonoha carries his severed head across town without anyone noticing, kills Sekai, and makes it onto the boat without getting caught. The show ends on a montage of idyllic school scenes, as if to say, "nobody noticed, everything just carried on". And again, to a certain kind of guy, I think this would stretch plausibility to the point of causing offence. For me, I think it's speaking to something very real.

Makoto's bedroom is barren except for his computer and magazines: porn, and porn. In the back half of the show, the void left by the absence of adults is filled by Makoto, Sekai, and Kotonoha, who are thrust into this horrible domestic drama, as everyone else in their class blocks Makoto. Makoto relays Kotonoha's recommendation for an abortion clinic to Sekai. He and Sekai sit diagonally across a table in a living room, and suddenly Makoto's school uniform looks like a salaryman's suit, a size too big for him, like he's walking around in his dad's clothes. Sekai tries to prepare a big meal for him, in a fucked-up parody of domesticity, but ends up destroying the whole thing after Makoto spits in her face yet again; later, she sees the remnants in the trash, an uneaten chicken leg poking out, and sees a little of herself in there, and that's basically when she decides to take the knife and kill Makoto. She stabs him in the belly, which is what Kotonoha will later do to her; both are imitating the original sin of the pregnancy.

Kotonoha explicitly chooses to kill Sekai this way because she believes Sekai is lying about the pregnancy—which we can pretty safely say isn't true, based on the scenes where Sekai is on her own. There's this horrible, horrible shot where the camera is looking out at Kotonoha from inside the gut wound, and she observes, "Just as I thought. There's no-one in there." And it's like, is she talking about this baby, still so early in the gestation that it's scarcely even an idea? Is she talking about Sekai, or Makoto, these two people who turned out not to care about her at all? Or is she peering straight through the screen at the viewer, complicit in this atrocity? The shot mirrors the bag containing Makoto's head earlier in the same scene; when Sekai unzips it, the inside is just a black void, and we aren't shown the contents. It's honestly more unsettling to infer it—that bag's not big enough for all of Makoto—and have it "made real" by that final shot of Kotonoha pressing the severed head into her chest on the boat. The memes were more right than they knew: "Nice boat."

Overall, I think School Days extends a lot of empathy towards its female characters. Or, if nothing else, it takes care to give them complex and distinctive internality, which is more than I can say for a lot of anime. Kotonoha initially represses her feelings for Makoto, and then when she feels pressured into reciprocating his intimacy, she soon gets turned into a social pariah for it. Early on, there's this eye-roll-inducing scene where Kotonoha is like "the other girls used to make fun of me because of my huge boobs", and from Makoto's perspective it's like "great, you've got huge boobs!", but then from Kotonoha's perspective, she spends the whole show getting slut-shamed, doesn't she? As a coping mechanism, she builds up elaborate delusions around Makoto—Makoto wouldn't let this happen to her, would he!?—which make it impossible for her to see how he's harming Sekai at the same time, culminating in the "I think you've made up your pregnancy for attention" beat. Their own internalised misogyny prevents the girls from identifying their common enemy.

If I'm being totally blunt, I feel like I can pretty safely put most of the comments regarding School Days I've seen online into a big bucket labelled "HAS NEVER HAD MORE THAN ONE GIRL INTERESTED IN HIM AT ONCE". Like, "I can't believe this Makoto guy! Why doesn't he just dump Kotonoha and date Sekai, who he's obviously more compatible with?" Bucket. "Makoto is so spineless and needs to stop letting these girls manipulate him!" Bucket. "There's no way the teachers would let him get away with this!" Bucket. "What do these girls see in Makoto anyway?" Bucket. "Sekai is such a bitch!" A new, bigger bucket labelled "NO BITCHES".

What I'm interested in is takes from School Days haters who aren't brainpoisoned anime fans, who might even nod along to all my analysis of the show's themes here, but who nevertheless think it's a bad show that deserves to be reviled. What part didn't you like? Is it the part in the OP where you see every female character naked one after the other? Yeah that part's pretty bad. Is it that windowpane-shattering digital transition that gets used once or twice? Is it the utter self-seriousness with which it tackles its ludicrous melodrama? I can see how, if you don't let yourself start to think "oh, those poor girls!", if you don't have that emotional buy-in, the whole thing might just feel comically edgy, sophomoric. I don't think there's any level on which School Days is fun to watch, and I'm not saying it's a secret masterpiece either, but I guess it more-or-less landed for me.

[chlmtsdoll]

I accidentally uploaded the unfinished version and had to delete. I’m sooo sorry original anon. 😭

౨ৎ Summary: Art comforts you after a semi-panic attack due to an allergic reaction <3 | hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, anxious reader, caretaker Art 🤍

“Princess… I really don’t think it’s that bad- -”

“Art, it’s getting worse by the second.”

You were basically panting as you dropped your bag to rush to the bathroom. Not giving yourself a moment to even proceed much as unbuckling your heels or slipping your dress — just your purse going flying across the room. Nearly hitting Art who was left by the doorway in worrisome hesitation as he observed your quick actions.

You stared yourself down in the mirror. Immediate curses spewed from you because you were right.

It was worse than worse.

A bright red and swollen discoloration took place on your upper cheek. You were terrified that if you just touched it, it would blister. Before you’d even left for dinner with Art, you assumed it was merely just a pimple. A zit even. And although your intuition told you to stop overthinking it, after all — your skin care had been eighty five percent of your priories. You strived to have the most spotless elevated skin, always in overcrowded lines just waiting to get the latest and best products for your face. But even with all that reassurance that there was no way your almost seven step routine could have gone wrong.. your gut had told you otherwise.

You couldn’t have really heard his slow shuffle as Art carefully approached the doorway of where you’d been examining yourself. He watched as your hands snaked around the back of your neck, breathe bitching as you started to pace the small enclosure.

He saw it right away. You were in pain. And if he hadn’t had his own calm training drilled so deeply into his capacity, he would have been going absolutely scattered too.

The taller man immediately strides over to where you stand as he tried to get a hold of your arm to turn you towards him with a soft sigh “Shit, shit, shit.. c’mere” Art huffed softly and your almost reddened eyes met his with a slight pout.

Art sucked in his lip as his hands carefully graced your face, But not because what he had seen had been completely disastrous to him, but because he wanted to make it go away. Help in any way he could. Make it better for you.

“I- I don’t know what went wrong, it’s bad. Oh my god.. it’s really bad…” your throat has gone dry, and your voice started to tremble as you didn’t even want to look at your own appearance beyond you. You’re eyes started to swell with readied tears — which only made the blonde furrow his eyebrows in fret.

“Hey, hey.. it’s not your fault, Angel. I promise it’s nothing we can’t fix.” Art ran his thumb over your chin, his expression grew to soften so you’d be more relaxed. The worst that could happen was it being from some sort of stress — and then it would only get worse. “Do we know exactly what could of caused it? You did have fish tonight.. maybe it was shelled and we didn’t know, possibly ?”

“No, no. I don’t think it’s that. It was already getting pretty bad before we left..” you quietly sniffed as the man searched your eyes, and your face.. noting to the rash even if you winced just at his peering gaze on you. You couldn’t of felt more unattractive at the moment, just so made you start to fall insecure even under his caring attitude.

Your eyes shut as you tried to turn away with a whine.

“.. don’t- - look at me, I’m a mess. I can’t even..”

Art shook his head on instant. “Stop. Don’t talk like that… never talk about yourself like that. You’re beautiful. Yeah, it’s a bit swollen but you’re okay.”

Art’s tone was serious and even though you’d been crying like a five year old over some acne, because you got like that. Pouty like a child and angry at yourself for not being perfect at all times — the way Art looked at you, held you, talked you through any difficulties no matter how big or small. If it meant a lot, or was hurting you. He was there to take care of it. So you nodded. Letting your breath steady as you held the wrists of the man in front of you filled with concern.

“I really do think it could of been something you ate, baby.”

“No.. no- - it’s probably my hormones. They’ve been all over the place and… I missed my latest period. I’ve just been off. Physically.” You sigh as your eyeliner met Art and he drifted back for a moment in perplexity and you’d been witness to if he’d gone pale just then or not.

“I don’t- - need to grab a pregnancy test.. do I ?” Arts tone had gone fairly timid as his chest rose and you shook your head before he could get any further with conclusions. You just knew all too well how quickly your overly analytical boyfriend got.

“No, it’s okay… it happens, and it’s normal really. At least according to my gynecologist.” You reassured the man and his tensed up shoulders finally eased in a collapse, he gave you a fond little heartening smile and rubbed your shoulders gently before he thought. Art lifted you up on the countertop swiftly. You sat up there and watched as the man hurried down to his knee to unbuckle your heel.

“Okay. You know what, I can’t make - that - disappear overnight.. but I can help. I can make you feel better.” Arts blue tinted eyes met yours from below as his tender hands got to work on your ankles and you couldn’t help but let a faint hearty smile grace over your lips at the sight of him being him. Art was always just too caring to you and your needs. You could of blamed it on your late menstruation — but it really did just make you want to cry all over again.

Even in times when you felt your lowest, or in this case ickiest, he still managed to keep a somewhat smile on your face. It was all he wanted at the end of the day.

So the blonde rose to his feet, and went to leave a soft loving kiss to your unaffected cheek. His hands gently stroke the side of your thighs in a sympathetic way. “And tomorrow, I’ll call our aesthetician, and we’ll get you back to normal sweets, okay ?” Art questioned in a calming tone as he bent a little to search your eyes for any discomfort, to which you nodded again and your lips curled into a light simper as you lead a simple “okay.”

It was rewarding enough to see Arts teeth come into play when he smiled and left you briefly to get what he knew was one of your overnight facial creams. After washing his hands, the blonde held you still as he carefully applied it to your poor skin, and you closed your eyes as he did so. Art though it was adorable the way you leaned into his touch. When you were all done. He helped you slip out of your dinner dress, tie up your hair and sunk into bed with your favorite comfort movie playing. Art snuggled you all night long — making light jokes about the cheesy romance you ate up on the screen as you laughed at his mocking. The sound of it made his heart beat a little faster. He did whatever he could to prioritize your comfort. Making it all better for his sweet girl was his only job on night like these.

[darkwitch1999]

Hey Darkwitch, I had this idea running around my head. It’s an idea about Marinette getting Akumatized into Protector after hearing about her cousin being bullied? What is your opinion on it? How do you think it will play out?

Ooo! Interesting....loving this idea! I'm already getting a few ideas on how this scenario would play out in the Darkverse....

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Protector Akumatized in the Darkverse AU

Marc used to attend a different middle school before transferring to Collège Françoise Dupont. At his previous school, Marc was ruthlessly bullied by a group of assholes and mean girls for years, and none of the teachers or the principal did anything about it.

Marinette didn't know that Marc was bullied until one day when he confided to her about the bullying. This happened while Marinette was over at Marc's house one day and she found some skirts and a couple of dresses in his closet and tried to encourage Marc to wear them to school sometime.

Marc confides to Marinette the reasons why he got bullied (one of them being that he wore skirts and make-up to school) and while it is painful for him to talk about that he ends up breaking down in tears, he reveals the last act of cruelty that the bullies did to him that made him finally confess to his mothers that he was getting bullied and ultimately lead to him switching schools for the new year (it was really terrible and fucked up FYI).

Marc hates making others feel worried about him so he begs Marinette to not say anything to anyone else as he feels that nothing else can be done and he just wants to leave the past in the past.

Marinette still feels angry and wants justice for her friend, but she relents and promises to not say anything about the bullying after looking at the sheer desperation in the writer's eyes to keep Marc's bullying between them.

Cut to the ice skating rink sometime later (a few days, weeks, or months....I don't know), a group of students from Miss Bustier and Ms. Mendelev's class, including Marc and Marinette, are having a group outing.

Marc and Nathaniel are skating together in the beginner's lane since Nath is not very athletically coordinated with his feet (or legs, arms, hands, etc.) and Marc is too bashful to show off his amazing skating skills (yes, Marc is talented at soccer and skating).

While the comic duo is skating together (or Marc basically holding onto Nathaniel to help the red-headed artist maintain his balance and not fall face first again), Marc hears a familiar laugh off in the distance that immediately makes his blood turn cold.

Slowly and reluctantly, Marc turns his attention to the bleachers where he spots his old bullies Sara Lemieux, Cerise Leroux, Colette Lyon, and Lavender Leyva.

At first the bitch quartet doesn't notice him so Marc tries to ignore them, but hearing their voices and stuck-up laughter starts sending him spiraling towards a panic attack.

At one point, Marc notices that their laughter is getting louder and looks at them again to see that they had noticed him at some point and were mocking him. Colette was dipping Cerise in an embrace as the two of them mockingly exchanged romantic pleasantries that were clearly insults towards Marc and Nathaniel.

Seeing the mockery unfold in front of him, Marc starts having a panic attack, reliving flashbacks from his past trauma from being bullied by them and unintentionally dropping Nathaniel during his panicked state. Nathaniel notices this and while confused, he helps Marc off the ice and sits him down on the bleachers.

The others immediately gathered around, concerned about their friend and wanting to know what was wrong. While Nath is trying to disperse the crowd since he knows they were not helping with Marc's panic attack, Marc's eyes shift toward the "Bitch Quartet", who were now mocking Marc's panic attack.

Cerise and Colette were now fake hyperventilating and acting overdramatically panicked while Lavender and Sara laughed along at their antics.

Marinette notices their mockery and how they were making Marc's panic attack worse and becomes furious. She springs up from her seat to confront them, much to the confusion of her friends, but Marc stops her in her tracks by grabbing hold of her hand with his shaky hand. The writer manages to choke out "Please...no..." as his eyes desperately plead to Marinette to not cause a scene.

Again, Marinette relents but she storms off to the bathroom because she was fuming.

Shadow Moth senses both Marinette's anger and Marc's panic, and while he was tempted to take advantage of Marc's panic attack to akumatize him again, he also couldn't pass up a rare opportunity to akumatize Marinette since she has consistently avoided becoming akumatized in the past.

Shadow Moth: Protector, I am Shadow Moth. Those who have tormented your friend have alluded justice for far too long.

Tikki: (remains hidden from Marinette's sight but tries to stop her) No, Marinette! Please! You must resist!

Shadow Moth: Such horrid, privileged people such as those girls never get their comeuppance, do they? No matter how horrendous their actions are they never face the consequences!

Marinette: (grabs onto her head as she struggles to resist the akumatization) T-They...how do they keep getting away with this?! N-No matter what anyone says or does...they never get what they deserve and they just keep making everyone around them suffer! Even when they aren't even near them anymore!

Tikki: (pleads) Marinette, we'll find a way to fix this. There's always a solution, but this isn't it!

Shadow Moth: I am giving you the power to ensure that those who try to escape justice will suffer the consequences of their actions. From now on, you shall act as their judge, jury, and executioner!

Marinette: (her hands slowly start reaching to cover her ears as she continues to struggle resisting Shadow Moth’s influence) I-I…

Tikki: (desperately begging) Marinette, no! You know this isn’t right! You wouldn’t be seeking justice, you would be seeking revenge! Please! Don’t listen to him!

Marinette: (removes her hands from her ears as her face darkens, her fists clenched) Justice…revenge…what difference does it make anymore?

Tikki: (shocked) No….

Marinette: It doesn’t matter how you define it…all that matters is that those girls are punished for what they have done!

Shadow Moth: Yes! And they will receive their just punishment, with my help of course. All I ask in return is that you bring me Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses! Do we have a deal?

Tikki: Marinette...

Marinette: (unclenches her fists) As long as I'm around to protect, they shall not escape my justice!

(Marinette is engulfed in darkness as she is transformed into Protector, much to the horror of the ladybug Kwami. However, the tiny kwami of creation notices the Ladybug earrings on the floor that Marinette had dropped when she unclenched her fists, quickly picks them up, and flees the bathroom before Marinette's akumatized transformation is complete.)

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For Marinette's akumatization, I believe that she knew that she wouldn't be able to suppress her rage and anger towards those girls for hurting Marc, but she had enough willpower and strength to take off the ladybug miraculous so she wouldn't hand them over to Shadow Moth. Yes, I know that she almost immediately tried to hand over the miraculous when she was almost akumatized in canon, but this is fanon and besides, I think it makes a bit more sense for her to at least try to struggle against being akumatized and using the last bit of her remaining willpower to remove the miraculous so that Tikki could keep them safe and possibly find someone else to be "Ladybug" for a day. Speaking of which, I think that Tikki will most likely either pick Alya to be "Scarabella" or Marc to become the temporary Ladybug Miraculous holder to save Marinette (and unfortunately the Bitch Quartet).

As Protector, I imagine Marinette either having a knight aesthetic with villainous color palettes or perhaps she'll be more like "Princess Justice" with her design, though I think the knight design would be a bit more fitting. Not sure what her powers would be, though I could imagine that they would be something related to knights. She would definitely have a sword and enhanced sword-fighting abilities as well.

Well, that is my take on Protector. What do y'all think? Thanks for the ask, @thetwistedarchives! I had a lot of fun coming up with ideas for this scenario! Hope you enjoy my response.

@thetwistedarchives @nerd-chocolate @artzychic27 @andromeda612 @username8746489 @miraculousfan1232 @imsparky2002 @eternalstarlitwonderland @msweebyness

[gamercookies]

Need help on what..? 

Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers 

Word Count: 3.1k 

Warnings: “fuckboy”!hyunie, virgin!y/n, a bit of fighting (word/physical), unprotected sex, dirty talk, spanking,fingering, grinding, use of “daddy”.  Note: this is the most I spent writing lol, I will rarely write fanfics it’s been 3 months Might have a few misspellings. But I feel this is the best I’ve made in my opinion :3 Enjoy!! 

Your enemy Hyunjin, whom you heard he’s a fuckboy, have been enemies for as long as you could remember. One day, you decided to swallowed your pride and approached him for help with a homework assignment, What could possibly go wrong if he comes over? 

“H-hey.. Hyunjin?” You say with a shy smile.

“Ugh.. it’s you.. what do you want?!” He says in an irritated tone, but not loud to scare you.

“I was wondering.. if you can help me with a homework assignment. I’m a bit confused on the math, and I assume you must know an idea?” 

Hyunjin scoffs and smirks a bit, “is there a catch? You’re always mad when I tease you and shit, why ask me when you can ask anyone else in this school?” 

“Yeah but most of them don’t even know the basics of it.. but I have to ask you.. since you know it. Ugh.. whatever! but I need help so..please?” 

“Please? …” He stays silent thinking for a moment. “Fine, whatever. Where should we meet up I guess..”

“I was wondering at my place later today, around 6PM?” You ask with a smile. 

"Your place?" Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical about the arrangement. "Why not here or somewhere public? It seems like you're trying to trap me alone with you."

“Am not! I’m literally asking for homework help nothing else!” You say as you push him gently.

He stumbles back a bit, "But fine, whatever. I'll come to your place at 6 PM. Don't think this means I'm being “mr.nice guy” on you just because I’m helping you with the homework." His tone is playful yet assertive, but yet seducing. 

“See you later then bitch.!” He yells from across the hall as he leaves, yet teasing you once more. 

“H-hey! don’t call me that you asshole!” You yell back as you walk to the exit to start heading home. 

….

At home, you arrive getting welcomed by your cat (you own one) and you pet its fur. “Aww you miss me? don’t worry I’m home. I’ll go and grab some food for you to eat.” You go to the kitchen cabinet and grab the cat food. Dumping some onto the cat bowl you slowly start thinking about hyunjin.. You tell yourself, “why am I thinking about that asshole, he’s a pain in the ass at most..?” 

As you put the cat food away, you bend down to give the bowl, and placing it in front of your cat. You then head to your bedroom, all cozy, organized, your laptop well placed. Of course after a long day, and now that your cat is eating, you go take a shower. After 10 minutes later you walk out of the shower the cold breeze hitting your body. As you dry your hair, you head over to your desk, where your diary is and write a short note about today as always. 

“February 17. Today was good, chatting with my friends as always.. But why did I have to ask hyunjin for homework help..”

As you go on writing about your day, you don’t realize you’re talking about Hyunjin’s body features. After 5 minutes you stop and read it once more, “what? Why am I writing about him.. fuck.. god why do I feel like I want him so badly.” 

You get interrupted by the doorbell, you turn next to your diary and see the time. “6:02PM.” Hyunjin is here.. You didn’t even hear or realize the doorbell has been ringing 4 times. You quickly shut the diary running to the door, completely forgetting to hide it. 

“Hey! I’m here, hopefully you ain’t doing makeup for no reason!” He yells as he continuously rings it. 

You open the door, panting a bit from running, forgetting that you invited him for homework help not for another reason. “O-oh sorry I just wrote something real quick and completely forgot the time.” As you scratch the back of the neck nervously a bit. “Will you let me in? Or imma just be outside?”

“R-right sorry.. do you need any snacks or anything?” Hyunjin hears you explain if he’s hungry as he walks in, “No thanks, I didn’t come to kidnap some food, it was just homework help you said.” 

“Yea.. right. Let’s head to my bedroom of course, it’s mainly where I do my homework.” As you close the front door, you led him the way to your bedroom.

“Tsk.. took you long enough to answer I assumed you weren’t home or anything. The fuck you were doing?” He says in an irritating tone, looking at around the room. “Goodness, it's surprisingly clean in here, I thought you never bothered tidying up.” You scoff and roll your eyes a bit, “Are you seriously mad at me for it being tidy?”

"Mad? Please." Hyunjin scoffs dismissively. "Don't flatter yourself, y/n. I couldn't care less how long you take."

He saunters further into the room, glancing around with a critical eye. "Just hurry up and show me this homework already. Let's get this over with so I can leave."

You shift uncomfortably under his intense stare as you pull a chair for him to sit down next to you, “Well this question over here.. can you show me how to answer it step-by-step?” 

As he kept explaining it, you can’t help but secretly stare at him.. these feelings you feel, they aren’t hate, but more of love. But after an hour of homework help, you finish at last. Hyunjin on the other hand leans back and scoffs. 

“An hour on all that? Really? That's all the time you needed for one simple math problem? 

“Sorry it took long..it’s just that-” you say quietly. 

He interrupts you, “Pathetic, I could do it in 5 minutes.” 

“Hey, I said I was sorry!" You snap back defensively with irritation. As y/n stands up from her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, looking at him directly. "And maybe if you actually explained things properly instead of just showing off, it wouldn't take so long!" 

Hyunjin's expression darkens at your outburst, his jaw clenched tight. For a moment, it seems like he might lunge at you, but then his features relax into a mocking grin.

"Oh, so now you're an expert on teaching methods, huh?" he drawls sarcastically. "Maybe I should start taking notes from Miss 'I-can't-even-do-math-right' over here."

He pushes his chair back and rises to his feet, towering over you. "Shut up, Hyunjin! Maybe it’s best you go home, out..!" You shout, getting angry at his words. 

Hyunjin snorts derisively at your outburst, he suddenly pushes you back giving you no time to react, “H-hey what are you doing?!” You quickly say as you stumble back and your diary in which you forgot to hide it falls from the desk. “Oh, look who's getting feisty. Maybe I should teach you a lesson in manners too, since you seem to have forgotten yours." His hand shoots out, grabbing your chin roughly and forcing you to meet his piercing gaze. "You think you can just dismiss me after I helped you? Think again, y/n." 

But then, he looks at the diary bending down to pick it up from the floor, with a smirk. “Oh what’s this? Hmm.. Let's see what juicy details you've been hiding in here, shall we?”, as he is flipping through its pages with a smug grin. 

You stand up trying to retrieve the diary back with fear that he will reveal your new desire for him. “H-Hey give that back! It isn’t for you to read! Come on..! It’s my secret!” 

Hyunjin chuckles darkly, holding the diary out of your reach. "Secrets are meant to be shared, aren't they, y/n? And I think I deserve to know what's really going on in that pretty little head of yours." He opens the diary to a random page, raises an eyebrow as he looks over the words, and starts to read out loud from the page. "..'he looks hot, I just wish Hyunjin would touch me...' Oh, how scandalous!"

He chuckles darkly, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Looks like someone has a crush on their bully. How pathetic." 

You blush bright red, looking away in embarrassment "S-Shut up! It's not like that! I-I just wrote some random thoughts, okay?! You're making it sound worse than it is!" As you try to grab the diary back again. Hyunjin easily sidesteps your attempt to grab the diary, holding it high above his head,and laughs mockingly. "Random thoughts? I don't think so, y/n. This sounds suspiciously like a confession to me." He continues reading, his voice dripping with mockery. "'.. I wonder what it would be like if he kissed me...'" Hyunjin pauses, glancing at you with a wicked grin. "Face it, you want me. Admit it, you dirty little thing." As he tosses the diary aside, watching it land on the floor again with a soft thud. 

Your cheeks feel like they're on fire as you attempt to reject those claims, completely embarrassed and vulnerable as Hyunjin mocks your innermost feelings, "I...I may find you attractive sometimes, okay?! But that doesn't mean I like you or anything! You're still a jerk!"

Hyunjin moves in a bit closer, getting into your personal space while grinning at you. "A jerk, huh? At least I’m upfront about how I feel about you, unlike those who hide their feelings in diaries." He gently runs a finger along your warm cheekbone, and even though you're mad, his touch makes you shiver. "You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you want me just as much as I want you, y/n."

You suddenly feel like you’re dripping down there. “Fuck.. I-”

Hyunjin notices the change in you and smirks, his eyes flicking down, "What's wrong, y/n? Getting excited by my touch?" He moves in even closer, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, "Or perhaps it's the idea of me kissing you, caressing you, that has you so stirred up."

Your face turns even redder as you try to step back, but your legs feel weak, causing you to stumble backwards onto the bed, sitting down awkwardly. "Oof! .. stop it! Don't say things like that! That’s not what-“ Hyunjin watches you stumble back onto the bed with amusement. He straddles your hips, pinning you beneath him as he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear once more, “Don’t you want those fantasies of yours to come true~” He straddles you a bit, you can feel the bulge in his pants. “N-no.. I- fuck.. Wait, Are you hard?!.. damn it..” You cover your face in embarrassment.

Hyunjin grins wickedly at your reaction, his hardness pressing insistently against you. "Of course I am," he admits, his voice low and husky. "The sight of you, all flustered and blushing, it's incredibly arousing." He begins to grind against you slowly, relishing in your discomfort and arousal. "You can't deny the attraction between us anymore, y/n. We both want each other, whether we admit it or not." 

You moan softly, feeling yourself get wetter as he grinds against you. "Hyunjin, please...stop teasing me..." Your hands move to his waist, gripping tightly as you try to resist the pleasure building inside you. “About earlier.. Maybe I really should teach you a lesson in manners too, maybe a couple of spanks, don’t you think?’”, he repeats the sentence he said before you guys argued. “Wait what?! You wouldn’t dare do that…plus, that’s a childish thing.”

Hyunjin’s hand slides down to grip your thigh possessively, squeezing firmly. "Oh, I would dare, y/n. In fact, I intend to do much more than just spank you."

He leans in closer, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers huskily, "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging me for more. And trust me, I plan to take my time exploring every inch of your delectable body until you're nothing but a quivering mess beneath me."  “Hyunjin, stop talking like that...it's making me...ahh-" Your protest is cut off as he abruptly slaps your thigh, the sudden impact making you yelp. "Ow! What was that for?!" Hyunjin smirks at your pained expression, clearly amused by your reaction. "That was for your impudent mouth," he explains, his tone stern yet playful. "You shouldn't speak to me with such disrespect, especially when you're the one who's been fantasizing about me."

He flips you over that you’re now your back is facing him, especially your ass, without hesitation he gives another firm slap. "Now, are you going to apologize properly, or do I need to continue teaching you a lesson?"

“Ah~!”You moan, he spanks you the second time. “Fuck!.. fine you got me.. I’m sorry!”, He spanks you again, “ah~! Hyunjin!” which is making you dripping wet, feeling good from it. “Use ‘daddy’ instead of my name. Got it?” He takes off your shirt and then pulls down your pants and underwear, leaving you in just your bra. Hyunjin chuckles darkly at your submission, pleased by the way you're squirming under his touch. "Good girl, From now on, you address me as Daddy when we're alone together like this."

He trails his fingers along your hole, feeling the heat emanating from your core. "Mmm, seems like my little y/n is quite eager for more attention, aren’t you?” Without waiting for a response, he pushes two fingers inside you, groaning at the tightness that grips them. "All that spanking got you turned on? Fuck.. wet already, You really are a naughty slut for Daddy's cock, aren't you?"

You moan loudly, bucking your hips against his fingers as he thrusts them in and out of you. "Ah! D-Daddy...fuck...yes...please..." Your words are a jumbled mix of pleasure and desperation as you surrender to the sensations coursing through your body. As he curls his fingers inside you, rubbing against that sensitive spot within, your walls clench around him reflexively.

"More...Daddy...I need more..." You whine. His free hand snakes around to palm your breast, tweaking the nipple through the fabric of your bra. "And look how hard these tits get when Daddy plays with you.” Hyunjin then unclasps your bra, letting your breasts hang free. “You love it, don't you? Such a greedy little cunt, begging for more~” Your nipples harden further under his touch, and you arch into him, desperate for more stimulation. "Yes, Daddy...I love it...please...more..." You pant heavily, your hips rocking against his hand as he continues to finger you relentlessly. “Please fuck me.. I- I need your cock in me.. just like my fantasies in my diary..!” You whine again.

“Patience girl.. you don’t wanna upset me and make me not give it to you.. you don’t want that, hmm?” As you turn over and sit up to face him with a pleading look.

“N-no not at all, I’ll be patient daddy! I promise!”

“Hmm.. get on your knees and prove to me that you need this cock in you.” With trembling hands, you quickly comply, dropping to your knees in front of him. Your eyes lock onto his throbbing erection, and you lick your lips in anticipation. "Go ahead, baby," Hyunjin coaxes, stroking himself slowly. "Show Daddy how much you crave his cock."

Emboldened by his encouragement, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his dick, sucking gently. He lets out a low groan, his fingers tangling in your hair as you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper into your mouth with each pass. "Mmm, that's it...good girl," Hyunjin praises, his hips starting to rock subtly, fucking your mouth. "You're doing so well, I think it's time Daddy gave you what you've been begging for..." 

“Yes please daddy! Rail me!” You say in excitement. 

"Get on the bed and present yourself to me, like the good little slut you are." He says as he walks over to your presented body. “Perfect. Now, hold still while I prepare myself," he instructs, reaching for the lube on the nightstand. “I see you had lube.. interesting..” He gets interrupted by your whine, “Please hurry, I need it inside..! Please!” Hyunjin grabs your hips roughly, positioning himself behind you. He presses the tip of his cock against your slick entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts. "Beg for it, slut." he growls, holding back from fully entering you. "Tell me how badly you need Daddy's cock stretching out this tight little cunt."  

You plead desperately, wiggling your hips back against him in an attempt to impale yourself on his length. "I'm all yours, Daddy! Use me however you want!" Satisfied with your submissive display, Hyunjin grips your hips tighter and plunges deep inside you with one swift, powerful thrust. "Ungh, fuck...so tight," he groans, burying himself to the hilt. He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with relentless force. The bed creaks beneath you as he fucks you hard and fast, his heavy balls slapping against your hole with each rough stroke. "Take it, you dirty little whore," he snarls, his breath hot against your ear. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be used and filled by Daddy's big cock?" 

"Ahh yes! Oh god, yes! Fill me up, Daddy! Use me!" You scream in ecstasy as he pounds into you mercilessly, your body shaking with each brutal thrust. Your inner walls clench tightly around his thick shaft, milking him greedily. "Harder! Faster! Break me with that huge cock!" Hyunjin's thrusts become even more savage, driven by your shameless begging. "You want it harder? Then take it, you insatiable slut!" He roars, slamming into you harshly. The room fills with the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh, punctuated by your high-pitched moans and his guttural grunts.

Suddenly, he reaches around to pinch and twist your nipples harshly, sending jolts of pain-tinged pleasure through your body. "Cum for me, now!" he commands, his voice a feral growl. "Show Daddy how much you love being fucked raw!" “Hyunie.. cum with me, please! Fuck! fuck..! Im gonna..” With a few more erratic thrusts, he buries himself to the root and explodes, flooding your insides with his hot seed. "Take it all, you filthy cumslut!" he snarls, pumping load after load deep into your spasming hole. 

Hyunjin collapses beside you, both of you panting heavily as you come down from the intense high of your shared climax. He pulls you close, spooning you from behind and nuzzling into your neck, “Wow.. you were amazing...” 

“Yeah.. uhm.. are you a fuckboy? Is this just one time and then that’s it?” He laughs, “Me? A fuckboy? when did you hear that joke!” You look at him confused, “W-What..? You’re not..? Wow, I guess I must’ve not believe everything I hear.” 

He leans to kiss you passionately, making you moan between it, after a moment he lets go panting a bit. “Was it really for homework or for me to use you?” “Well.. both. I don’t mind having you come over and help me~” 

“Oh trust me, I think I’ll come over many times, you’re now my girlfriend, y/n, and you better continue writing those fantasies.” 

[mqriuss]

Tough Day

from 'us, always' collection

recommended to read this, this, this, this and this first | divider by cafekitsune

Haitani Rindou has been following a daily routine for the past seven years.

Is it a peaceful one? No, he's a Lancer—how could it be peaceful?

Wake up, alternate between eating and working, sleep, rinse and repeat. No time for parties, no time for fun. He can't bring himself to have any fun ever since he lost the brother he did basically everything with. The only time he ever finds himself at the club is for a job.

And frankly, he kind of hates it—waking up. He wakes up to an empty apartment, the whirring of flying cars passing by his window, bottles of alcohol he'd down all by himself, and a single plate in the sink that he'd forgot to wash the night before. You'd think his place is a mess, but it actually isn't—it's far from it, even. "Fuckin' older brothers, leaving you to clean up their mess," he'd curse under his breath as he cleans up the living room, knowing damn well he could just let the vacuum bot do it for him but no, he wanted the distraction.

But sleeping wasn't any better. He feels as though he has never gotten proper sleep since becoming a Lancer. On the days he's most exhausted, he falls asleep and has dreams. He dreams of the scary things. He dreams of dying young and gigantic robot spiders devouring him, or another fucked up version of what happened that night. The night he lost his arm, the night he lost his family. Suddenly he's a kid again, but with no one to hold when he jolts awake. On the days he can afford to be on guard, he doesn't dream of anything. It's pitch black and his eyes would shoot open upon hearing the slightest weird noise outside.

Waking up, sleeping—they're equally as dreadful as the other. But he finds himself despising all the times he has to eat. "You gotta eat to live, my guy," Renji once told him on a day he was particularly moody and refused to order anything for dinner. He was just there to get intel from Renji, but the latter insisted. Those were rare times when Rindou had company with his meal. Normally, he'd dine at a table for two and a stranger would come up to him, asking if the other seat was taken.

Rindou stopped eating to live, he ate to survive. With time, taste mattered less to him as well. They got his order wrong? The food was bland? His usual favourite didn't taste the same? It's okay. As long as it was edible, as long as it kept him alive, that was good enough for him.

There are times when he becomes aware of these changes, and it'd put him in a really bad mood. The natural resting bitch face he wore would deepen into a scowl that has his neighbour finally worrying that his TV might be too loud at night—and it is, but Rindou never cared that much. He cared more about how working out, too had became a distraction for him. It was always a good distraction, yes, but it bums him that that's all it was now.

The only remotely good thing about his day is seeing the cat with a scar on its eye around his apartment building, alive and well. "Hey," he'd whisper to the cat, petting its head and being greeted with a cute meow before entering.

Now though? He has you.

He had a hard time picturing the rest of his life with you in it. You just, came out of nowhere. It was weird, really—the idea of having an Aptroid girlfriend. Him of all people—though some would say Rindou is quite likely to have an Aptroid girlfriend. He's a busy man with a dangerous job and lost so much. His family, his youth, his carefree way of living. What better partner for him than one who will stay home, do what he wants, say what he wants to hear, and be nothing less than perfect?

But none of those things came close to the reasons why he's grown fond of you. They were never reasons to begin with.

A little ironic, how the most life Rindou had ever seen in his apartment was the doing of someone who wasn't even human.

There's a piece of you everywhere he looked. He doesn't have much in his wardrobe so he shares it with you, and you have all your favourite colors mixed in with his black, white and occasional dull blues and greens. A small stack of books you liked to read to lull him to sleep sat on the nightstand—not his nightstand, but the one located on the other side of the bed that he bought just for you. A scented candle you liked—one he grew to like too because it masked the lingering scent of alcohol and the bloodstained shirt he'd have to wash after work.

He never realized how much he enjoyed your warmth and the feeling of your weight next to him on the bed until one particular morning. You had woken up early to make breakfast and his eyes fluttered open to see half of his blanket flipped over and an empty space that had started to get cold in your absence. And it wasn't something that always bothered him, it was such a small thing after all.

But all it took to bring you back was him walking up to you in the kitchen, your back turned to him. He had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around you and ask, "Why are you up so early?"

"I'm always up this early," you answered with a smile, plating two omelettes for the both of you.

"Should've slept in some more. We were up pretty late last night," he muttered, rubbing the side of his neck.

"Just say you missed me," you teased, not bothering to look back so you didn't catch the way Rindou gave a small nod.

"Yeah, yeah... now get back here. Work doesn't start that soon for me anyway."

His response made you turn around, both hands occupied with the plates you had picked out online—nicer-looking ones compared to the ones he had before.

"Let's eat first, I'm starving," you said, hearing a rumbling sound—your 'stomach' doesn't rumble. "Well, you certainly are."

Ever since then, you'd always wake him up gently before getting up to do your morning routine. So he doesn't wake up to nothing on your side of the bed.

This was... nice, Rindou thought. Not jolting awake to funny noises at 4am, and actually enjoying rest. It definitely took a while, but he had started letting himself relax more. He lets his vacuum bot clean up the floor, you'd prepare breakfast on most days, and he'd allow himself long showers. It was nice not needing to speed-run a long checklist of chores to do before and after work. Unsurprisingly, his performance at work improved too.

Eating isn't so dreadful anymore either. He had gotten so used to the food of whatever restaurant he passed by on his way home from work, that he never realized how much he misses home-cooked meals.

He remembers so vividly, the first time he ate dinner at home with you. He was eating slower, savoring the taste, your presence. The sight of you sitting on the other chair that was usually empty. It was hard not to look at you.

It may or may not have something to do with you, but he also started taking on "easier" jobs. Ones that still paid well enough, but were quick to finish. And he no longer takes on multiple jobs in a day or arrives home by midnight. When his watch says it's 6pm, it was time to go back home. To you and dinner for two.

So now, as he checks the time and sees it's 7pm, nowhere near home, he finds himself wishing someone would just invent teleportation technology already.

But when he finally reaches his apartment building, he hears a "meow." A very... unrealistic-sounding meow.

Rindou looks down and sees you, crouching down next to the cat that frequented the area and petting its head gently. The meowing came from you in attempts to communicate with the little guy.

"Y/N?"

Your name leaves his lips, finally catching your attention, albeit rather abruptly as you jolted a little. "I told you not to go outside alone," he reminds you when the realization settles in, trying not to look so amused by your defeated expression.

"I wanted to see the cat you told me about last time," you try to reason with him.

"I showed you a photo of it."

"A photo is not enough."

Rindou sighs when you talk back to him—which you've been doing a lot for some reason. "Why didn't you just... stay put and wait for me to come home? We could've gone down together."

"It was getting late. You're late."

His lips purse and he rubs the nape of his neck when you stand up, crossing your arms. "Are you mad?"

Your arms fall almost instantly at that, and you shake your head. "No, I'm not mad," you claim, but he raises an eyebrow at you.

"Really?" He tilts his head.

"Really." You nod yours.

He chuckles as he walks over to you, slipping an arm around your waist to guide you back inside. At the same time, he clicks his tongue at the cat, giving its head a quick pat with his free hand before entering the building with you.

The door slides open after Rindou types in the password and locks automatically once you were both inside. "Would you want to be mad at me?" He asks and you blink, caught off guard. "Just a little bit?" He adds.

You lean against the wall with a shrug. "Maybe."

"Yeah? For what?" He questions you again whilst taking off his coat to hang it.

"For not being home on time for dinner," you answer, and you do so as if you had the answer in mind this whole time.

"And?"

"And making me worry."

Rindou finally turns to face you, and it was only then you noticed the heaviness in his eyes—a bit worse than usual. Tired.

"Sorry,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he steps closer, almost closing the space between you. “I’ll text you next time if I’m running late.”

"Tough day?" You ask, matching his tone and he nods. "Hurt anywhere?"

"Nah, I'm fine. See?" He shows you his hands. "Not even a scratch."

"You must be getting stronger then," you say, earning a quiet chuckle.

"Which means you don't have to worry about me so much," he counters, taking your hand in his. For once, his left hand isn't so cold—it was a little warm. He sighs when you shake your head at that. "I promise I won't be late for dinner anymore. Just... please, don't go out on your own."

"But-"

"Even if you're just around the area."

You hesitate before exhaling. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry," you say. "I'll wait for you to come back next time."

Rindou studies you for a moment, as if making sure you mean it. His grip on your hand loosens slightly and his thumb brushes over your knuckles before nodding. "Alright."

"You go take a shower. I'll reheat dinner." You pull away gently, and you barely take two steps when he tugs at your wrist, just enough to stop you. But before you could question what he's doing, he leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

[chiefbeifongcanrailme]

Hello!! I would like to request a Linzin fic, when tenzin broke up with lin ofc she is mad but then suddenly starts bleeding, thats when they realize she has been pregnant but it was just a cryptic pregnancyy and her losing her period weren't her going into menopause.

The story basically is just Tenzin trying to get her forgiveness, and lin being "Would you be here knealing if I wasn't pregnant?" I want it to hurt ok🥰

Hello! Here is my attempt at a painful cryptic pregnancy Linzin. I hope this is what you were looking for.

It was that damned healer. That waterbending, icy bitch of a woman- who told her that she was done for couldn't have been more wrong. Lin should've gone to Katara. Spirits, she should have seen Kya instead.

Because now there she was, dismembered in a way she never thought her crime-fighting days could land her. Thankfully, every part of her body was still intact. What she was losing now was nothing she was born with.

The bathroom floor was bright red. Her vision kept shifting from black to red and back.

She only allowed herself to give in to the darkness when she felt the door to her house fling open from under her feet. Someone had entered her home. Someone was looking for her. Someone was going to find her. Someone was going to save both of them.

For the first time, Lin felt pain in her body like never before. This hurt far more than breaking a rib or getting stabbed in the thigh. Her emotions were unfathomable. To think she felt grief for something she never knew she had.

Her entire life would've been upside down had she known this whole time.

"What? A cryptic pregnancy...,"

"Will she be- will they both be—"

"Lin didn't know! She couldn't have known!"

"If you would please just let me see her..."

Lin was in an out of consciousness for what felt like days. Really, it had only been a few hours but it felt like a whole lifetime went by. She couldn't work out whose voices they were. It all felt like she had voices inside her head.

Sleep took over once again. This time it was quiet, dark and numb, like in a vacuum.

The first thing Lin realized was that she could feel her eyelids on her eyes. Her hand twitched, reminding herself that her body was whole. She was still very much there. Her toes wiggled in response. Slowly her fingers contracted, and she forced her eyes open.

She saw more red. This time accompanied with yellow.

What was he doing here? Who let him in? Don't people know better? She didn't destroy Air Temple Island for nothing after all, did she? Some destruction her meltdown had caused. That was the only time she lost control of her bending. Her emotions were volcanic- they had consumed her being, soul and body, and exploded all over the Island.

How was Tenzin both the only and the last person she wanted to see?

“Lin!” He cried, almost to himself.

Lin stirred slowly. She suddenly remembered why her body wasn’t moving earlier. Everything hurt.

“Hey, hey slow down,”

He had leapt off his seat to stand beside her, one hand on her shoulder to stay her movements.

“What are you doing here?” She asked through gritted teeth, pushing all the pain to the back of her mind.

“We almost lost you. I couldn’t—”

“As far as you’re concerned, consider me lost.”

“Lin, she’s alive,” he whispered over her. His shaky hands captured her palm and brought it up to kiss her knuckles.

Lin lost her voice too. There was a lump in her throat now. There was no admission needed, a wave of acceptance came over her.

Motherhood.

Tenzin’s kisses were wet on her hand. When her eyes shifted to him, she saw tears rolling down his face.

“Where- where is—” she managed to croak out.

“In the other room,” he replied, gesturing to the left. “The chief healer is there, caring for both of you. The baby is healthy and happy. And she looks just like you. Just as beautiful. She’s got jet black hair and your eyes and-and—”

“Tenzin, stop.”

The airbender gaped at her.

“You don’t get to be a part of this. You don’t get to just walk in here and take what you want. That’s my child.”

“That’s our child.”

“There is no our because there is no us, Tenzin. That’s my child and—”

“And that’s also my child.”

“How do you know she’s yours?”

He was spellbound. The most joyous moment of his life had reduced to a pit in his stomach. But he knew better. She was saying that just to hurt him. When he peered into that child's eyes, he knew she was his.

“Lin, come on. Please don’t say that.”

But she continued to glare daggers at him.

Just then, hearing the voices, the very chief healer entered the room. She was an old woman, one of the few who were trained by Katara personally. Where was she when she stopped bleeding all those months go? “Oh, look. Mom is awake.”

Lin offered her a weak smile.

“Your little girl is a fighter,” she said, walking over to Lin's bed. “She's a stubborn one- the girl was determined to live.”

Lin audibly masked a sniffle, but Tenzin caught it.

“She gets that from her mother,” he said with a smile.

“Oh, we’re well aware. Captain Beifong, you fought through too. Valiantly, so. If it were up to me, this ordeal alone should make you Chief.”

“Can I see my baby?” Lin asked.

The woman nodded happily, pushing Lin's hair behind her ear affectionately before stepping out of the room.

They swiftly turned to look at each other. “I’m sorry, Lin. I’m so sorry.”

Lin bit back tears by biting her cheek.

“You don’t- you don’t get to…” she whispered, shaking her head in denial.

“We can work this out. We never should’ve ended things.”

“You’re not even in love with me…” Her voice was hoarse.

“Lin, I’m crazy about you. You and only you. And now that mini-you you just brought into this world.”

“What about your soulmate?”

Tenzin slapped his forehead. “The acolyte? She’s so far driven from reality, she wouldn’t know a soul from a chair.”

Lin almost let herself chuckle with relief. But she didn't. She couldn't just laugh off the thing that Tenzin allowed to weaponize against their relationship.

“No,” she said. “No, you can’t- I’m vulnerable right now. You can’t snake your way back into my life. If it wasn’t for my pregnancy- if it wasn’t for nearly losing your child, you wouldn’t have even been here. You would be with your soulless chair mate on your cold, lifeless Island. You’re dead to me, Tenzin.”

“Lin, of course, I would. I would always be there for you. Please—”

“You value your legacy far more than you’ve ever loved me. I kept putting your first and you kept making me fight for footnotes in your life.”

“That is not true!”

“Oh, but it is!”

“Lin, I have always been in love with you. I can't remember a time in my life when I haven't loved you, truly.”

“Then why would you leave me for her? Why when I had just found out that I couldn't bear you the airbenders you so wanted. The unborn children you put before me, a whole person you claim to be so in love with.”

“I was wrong. I was so very wrong," he cried, head in his hands. "I didn't know you couldn't have children. You pushed me into Pema's arms—”

“Don't you utter her name!”

Tenzin sighed. “You told me to be with her. That she would give me my airbenders. I only did that to free you from my burdens. You didn't deserve to—”

The door creaked open again, the same healer returning with their child in her arms. The two of them fell silent immediately.

“Here, Lin. Do you want to hold her?” The healer asked.

Lin’s sniffle was enough of a response.

As she cradled her arms- as best as she knew anyway- the healer slowly placed the baby in her mother's embrace. She was so little- so much smaller than Lin imagined. She could no longer hold back her tears.

She felt Tenzin’s hand on her shoulder.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered.

“She is,” Lin replied, feeling placated like never before. She eased up. Her mind was no longer clouded- clarity had taken over. “I can’t believe we created that.”

“I can,” he replied, kissing her head.

“Don’t make me ask you to leave,” she said, curtly.

“I’m never leaving, Lin.”

She huffed, side eyeing him as she prepared herself for what she was about to say. She felt certain about her decision.

“You’re leaving, Tenzin. I will allow you to be a part of my daughter’s life so long as you vow to stay out of mine.”

Tenzin watched her, heart beating faster in his chest, as she glared at him with storms in her eyes. He didn’t have the words to respond.

“You stay on your Island and I stay in my city. We only have our exchanges on the ferry. I will not step foot onto Air Temple Island and if you so much as even breathe Republic City’s air, I will arrest you and have you sent to the Dai Li’s prison in Ba Sing Se.”

“Lin, that can’t be sustainable—”

“I don’t care what you think.”

Lin pressed her baby into her bosom. Nothing mattered anymore. Her entire life would be dedicated to protecting this baby.

Tenzin would do the same, she trusted him that much. He would be a good father to her. She would have to find a way to be okay with that acolyte being a part of her daughter's life. But perhaps, that would happen with time.

“I love you. And I respect your wishes. But can you grant me just this one thing?”

“What is it?”

“Can we have one moment? Just a single moment where we, as her parents, hold her together with love. If I am to leave you alone, I just need a glimpse of what might’ve been to keep me going.”

Lin sighed.

“Let’s- let’s name her,” he suggested, realizing that he was babbling. “Together. Right now. That’s all.”

“Sure,” she gave out a low huff of defeat.

Lin shifted on the bed as Tenzin took a seat beside her. He placed one hand under Lin’s, supporting their daughter’s head while his other arm ran around her waist. He squeezed her into his embrace and as much as she wanted to fight it, she gave in and rested her head against his chest. It felt right. As if the entire universe conspired to allow her just this one moment. Even if it wasn't made to last.

“How do you like the name Dalha?”

Lin scrunched her nose in disgust. She kissed her daughter’s head, making her coo in a way that made Lin’s heart flutter.

“What about Meng?”

“No,” Lin replied with a gasp. A yawn escaped her mouth urging Tenzin to pull her tighter.

“Jin?”

Lin gave her baby a cheeky a smile and said, “Don’t worry, kid. I won’t let your daddy name you anything as unsavory like that.”

“Well, daddy is trying. Mommy hasn’t made a single contribution.”

Lin huffed. “How about Lila?”

“I love that name. Lila Beifong. We could call her Lili too!” Tenzin glanced over at Lin only to find her looking straight at him. There was a softness in her eyes. He cupped her face with one hand and drew her in. His lips slowly met hers. It had been far too long since he had kissed her. Lin melted against his touch- she was exhausted. She just needed to be held, to feel loved- if only for a moment.

Tenzin continued kissing her, smiling, making the most of the moment with the mother of his child- the only woman he wanted to kiss for the rest of his life.

When they pulled apart, Lin passed Lila on to Tenzin to hold. He delicately held her as Lin wiped her dried up tears with her palms.

“Say your goodbyes.”

Tenzin bit his bottom lip. “Thanks.” He admired his daughter, he couldn’t help but smile. A joy so unfathomable, he couldn't wrap his head around the grief that was yet to set in. “I love you so much,” he whispered to Lila. “You’re my world, Lili. You and your mother, you're my earth, my air, my everything.” He kissed the top of Lila's head before handing her back to Lin.

He stood up, and knowing she wouldn’t stop him, he planted a kiss on Lin’s forehead one last time. “I love you. And I always will.”

“I'll be sure to thank Saikhan for letting you know of my whereabouts. If it weren't for him, you never would've found us."

"Lin, I would've found you with or without my intel. Who, by the way, wasn't Saikhan."

"Who was it then?" she asked.

Tenzin chanced another kiss to her cheek and replied. "I'll save that story for the ferry when I pick Lila up next week."

“Fine,” she said softly, but there was a hint of a smile in her voice.

Tenzin beamed, making his way over to the door. “I’m going to win you back, Beifong. Just you wait. I look forward to those thirty minutes on Yue Bay.”

Before Lin could conjure up the metal tray beside her into mini spheres to throw in his direction, the airbender was gone.

[a-legacy-not-to-be-forgotten]

Why Ceroba and the Feisty Four were right

Not bothering with any fancy opening, it's exactly what it says it is: Ceroba and the Feisty Four were right to call out Starlo.

Now before you crucify me, I love Starlo as a character. But I'm tired of people (not calling out anyone in particular) pretending that he's done absolutely nothing wrong and demonize Ceroba and the Feisty Four for snapping at him (largely Ceroba, but I see the Feisty Four get shat on every now and then). And this is not me calling Starlo a jerk. Typically, calling him a flat-out jerk would mean he did shit on purpose with malicious intent, and I don't think he acted out of spite. Rather, he did all those things because he just didn't think about it in the moment. I understand that, and I can 110% relate to that myself, honestly.

That being said, he did make some legit dick moves over the course of the game. Exhibit A: Having Moray walk around with a snake in their boot and giving them rashes.

IK some of Starlo's more wild fans would probably do anything he says and all that, but put yourself in Moray's shoes (or boots I guess would be more appropriate). If your friend made you walk around with a rubber toy in your footwear that gave you a nasty rash, I think you'd be reasonable at least a bit angry at them.

Exhibit B: The Boulder Droppers

They're literal goddam boulders. That shit could've killed someone. Setting them up at a busy mineshaft is reckless enough as it is but leaving them on after you're done using them just makes things even worse.

Exhibit C: Blaming Clover for everything that happened and shooting them over it.

What am I supposed to say? If you hate Ceroba for what she did to Kanako and Clover, keep in mind that Starlo basically did the same exact thing.

Again, this is not me calling Starlo an asshole overall. Yes, he is a good monster deep down and just made some legit mistakes. But my point is, he does have flaws nonetheless and I can't stand people who ignore them. Like, him accepting what he did was wrong and coming to terms with that is one of the best parts of his character! C'mon guys.

And yes, people treat Ceroba as a horrible friend because she wasn't into it and apparently 'hates that part of Starlo' or whatever. If Ceroba actually hated Starlo's obsession with Western culture, do you think she'd indulge in his ramblings on humans?

...or helped him set up all of those wanted posters for him?

...or helping his family search for him when he 'goes missing' during a neutral run?

*sarcastically* Wooooooow, what a horrible friend...

Yes, I understand Ceroba is a very blunt and sarcastic person, but I think because of that, she ends up coming off as harsher than she means to be. Trust me, I can relate to that.

To call her a heartless bitch is a disservice to her character. She does care deep down, even if she isn't that good at showing it.

And hey, she's a mourning widow and mother, I wouldn't blame her for not being good at showing positive emotions.

As for the Feisty Five, our favorite enby fish puts it best themself:

My point is, despite snapping at him, Ceroba and the Feisty Four did not hate Starlo. They understood that his obsession over Western Culture was really important with him. It's made clear that they know he's a good monster deep down, despite his transgressions and were very ready to forgive him.

They just wanted him to dial it back. And yeah, he needed to. Granted, this is targeted at the 'Starlo did nothing wrong' crowd. If you admit that he's pretty heavily flawed but that Ceroba's done worse, I can accept that. Hell, despite me being a Ceroba apologist, I might even agree with you to a degree. But I am a bit tired of the fandom putting him on a pedestal while overhating everyone who remotely criticizes him.

[hardbeingcasual]

LOVE ON EACHOTHER! / HAZEL CALLAHAN

♪ AWKWARD, SZA / BOTTOMS MASTERLIST / MASTERLIST

pairings. hazel callahan x fem reader

warnings. mentions of fighting, blood, tension?????? idk.

summary. joining a fight club wasn’t so easy as it seemed.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

You should’ve seen this coming when you decided to join a fight club. You had went against Hazel, and to say she was really good at throwing a punch was not an exaggeration. You didn’t even want to fight her, you didn’t want to mess up her beautiful face.

You had to go home without getting checked up by the school nurse because the bitch wasn’t even in.

You managed to clean up the blood but it was still in agony.

Maybe Hazel knew how to make a possibly broken nose feel better? Who knew. If you were being honest you just wanted to see her. You weren’t even mad, after all the whole point of the fight club was to beat eachother up.

You were definitely in love, just to scared to admit. Before you knew it your doorbell was ringing and you opened it to see a panicked Hazel. God, you could get lost in her eyes.

“Hey,” She says out of breath. Did she run a marathon to get here?

“Hi.” You let her in your house, Hazel following you to the Kitchen.

“Hows the nose?” Asks Hazel. She felt horrible for what she did.

“Sore.” You shrugged like it was nothing, you noticed her guilty expression and realised you said something wrong, “I’m not mad, Haze. It’s the whole point in the club. Don’t feel bad.”

She nodded, she believed you, but she still felt guilty. “Let me look at it?” She didn’t mean for it to come out like a question, she was just nervous.

You nod, sitting on the counter so it was easier for her to look at your nose. She stood almost in between your legs, one hand on the side of your head and the other on the counter next to you. The heat sprawled onto your cheeks, making you flush red. You were too busy looking down to the floor to realise how nervous Hazel was too.

A few moments later, Hazel breaks the silence, “I fucked you up bad, huh?” She said awkwardly, getting a chuckle out of you. You finally look up, taking notice of the position you were in, she was completely stood in between your legs now, you were basically breathing down her neck. She was all flushed red from your shallow breathing, she held the eye contact with you.

A few strands of her hair had fell, covering her eyes, making the eye contact break. You couldn’t help but tuck them behind her ear again, missing the intense hold you were sharing.

Without a thought you closed the gap, Hazel got closer as she held the kiss, her hands going to your waist.

The kiss was started to get more sloppy and heated, you both felt yourself getting breathless, but you really didn’t have a care.