aphrosheir - Tumblr blog

aphrosheir · 2 months ago

Text

>>> Red Hair, Red Wine, Red Handed Pt. 3 <<<

[A/N: Last part, darlings! I hope you enjoyed!]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

"So... Melissa and I kind of got into a fight earlier."

After a couple of hours, a whole barrage of shit hitting the fan, and a handful of longing stares while they were sure that the other wasn't looking, (Y/N) and Melissa arrived at the penultimate task of cleaning up.

"Y'know, I used to spend my Christmas with my family."

The shorter woman's ears perked up, sneaking a glance at the woman who seemed all too preoccupied by the rug on her hands, wiping down the rest of the grease on the counter top.

"I—yeah, same." (Y/N) admits with a soft sigh. "I hope we didn't ruin your plans this year though?"

She shook her head, red curls shifting slightly, "I stopped comin' after the divorce. Didn't need to give my ma and Kirsten Marie any more ammunition than they already do."

Just then, Melissa's mood seemed to have shifted. Something akin to joy, relief, or being hopeful, radiating off the small smile tugging at her lips. "I think we're actually done, (Y/N)."

"Yeah! I think my kitchen got its fair dose of lovin' today. I don't go in here as much as I used to. Being on a teacher's salary and all, you cross fresh produce and hot meals off your list."

"You tell me," Melissa chuckled. "But, it's been nice to cook with someone for a change. These gabortz can't usually be allowed in the kitchen without full parental supervision."

"Usually, my dad and I are the ones bustling around the kitchen. But, lately he's been busy and all." (Y/N) nodded solemnly as she put her utensils in their proper bin, grabbing a glass of wine and a bottle to share with the redhead. "Says I got to find my own kitchen bud since I'm all grown."

"Please, couldn't even get my ex Joe to step foot in the kitchen unless it's for a beer," she says as she graciously accepts the finely aged Sauvignon that (Y/N) handed her.

"What, with a woman like you? If that were me, I'd be sittin' at the counter tops, mopping the ceiling if it meant getting to spend time with you."

"That guy was a real dud, you know." she mutters, raising her glass to Melissa. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say your taste was non-existent."

"I wouldn't say so." Melissa swirled the wine in her glass, staring at the red mark she had left on the rim. Then she gulped it back like she was trying to swallow something sharper.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) had already downed her liquid courage, looking like she was planning on something more than pre-gaming. "I'm just saying, if it were me, I'd even learn how to tackle and do a touchdown thingy. All for you, Schemmenti."

"Calm it, shortstack. Wouldn't want you hurting yourself," Melissa quipped with a laugh—sharp enough to cut. "Cut the BS. It’s just you an’ me."

"It's true, though." (Y/N) stared hard at her fourth glass of wine, clearly a little more drunk than sober.

And those words? Well, they sounded a bit too true to Melissa's liking.

"Alright, enough," she said, her voice dropping to that dangerous tone that tells (Y/N) that she's toeing the line between being fucked senseless or half-beaten to death by the woman in front of her.

Right now, (Y/N) couldn't care less and happily skipped over that line. "Enough? Enough of what?"

"You don't gotta pretend with me. Ain't no friends here to laugh at your cute little jokes, an' I sure as hell won't be your practice target for the next girl you decide to fall for."

"I meant what I said Melissa."

(Y/N) shot back her fifth glass with conviction.

"That's the thing! You don't know what you're saying."

Melissa followed suit, slamming the glass down soon after, almost breaking it on the marble top.

"What does that mean," she whispered, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

"You're a sweet little thing who's drunk on too much wine and shit like 13 Going on 30, thinkin' that love is just a little fairytale wish come true. Well, you won't find that here, because in the fairy tale, I'm the Wicked fuckin' Witch that everyone wants dead!"

"Melissa, I’m young. Not stupid." (Y/N)'s voice was quiet, steady. "And I’m not blind either. I see someone worth loving."

Melissa stepped closer. Too close. She snatched the bottle from (Y/N)’s hand, drained what was left like it burned.

"Yeah? Well, that's what Joe thought too."

"Well, I'm not Joe."

Melissa laughed again, but this time it stuck in her throat. She stared hard at (Y/N), red-rimmed eyes wide, chest heaving.

"Exactly, (Y/N)," she whispered, voice cracking for real now.

"You're not. 'Cause you actually make me feel like it's real."

It's 8 pm, the party revs up. The plan is in order. Barbara and Ava are in their places. Gerald has arrived a few minutes ago and is quite confused as to why his wife's 30-something, white co-worker is talking his head off about types of wines. O'shon is setting up the karaoke machine, Abbott-proofing it to prevent the Great Mic Blackout of 2024 from happening again. Gregory and Janine are talking to Melissa and (Y/N). And Mr. Santa Johnson Claus is getting his holiday glee awn.

"We are gathered here today, loved ones," Barbara starts, tone pointed. It makes Gerald's eyebrows knit.

"Did I... Did I do something wrong?"

"To celebrate the birth of our beloved saviour, Jesus. He who lived amongst us and died for our sins."

Barbara continues, voice steady but with the faint tremble of unhinged resolve, “And in His spirit, we come together to reflect on love, forgiveness… and the courage it takes to stop being cowards about our feelings."

Gerald blinks. "Dear. What is happening?"

Ava steps forward, taking the microphone from Barbara's hands. "Alright, Abbott family! Who's ready to get their game on?"

Cheers erupt from the room.

"First, we shall enjoy a dinner, prepared by (Y/N)—our host—and our local Italian, Melissa. Would the both of you please step forward so we can applaud your hard-work properly."

"I don't think that's necessary, Ava. And plus, you all brought your own dishes, right? We are all to celebrate here."

"Yeah, yeah," Melissa raises her eyebrows with no trace of glee on her face, "Get on with it, Ava!"

Gregory huffs, clearly frustrated. "That's strike one. I just—why can’t these two follow one simple direction," he shrieks.

Jacob takes the lead on the second plan, "Alright, party people! The dance floor is now open."

"Trust me. You cannot go wrong with a little boogie."

"Operation Happy Feet, Happy Lips is a go," Ava whispers as she is hitting the shopping cart to the Cha Cha Slide. She electric slides up to (Y/N) to pull her into the dance circle.

"Criss cross~" the speaker booms as Barbara shuffles behind Melissa.

"I don't see you criss crossing, Melissa," she reminds her in a sing-songy voice, her honey voice laced with poison as she coaxes the redhead deeper into the makeshift dance floor.

"Damn. Barb can criss cross. Her cha cha is real smooth." Ava brags to the camera.

"Cha cha real smooth~"

Thud.

The record scratches. Everyone is frozen. (Y/N) is basically making out with the floor.

"Ouch."

"Damn it, alright," Melissa's voice carries through the living room, sharp and pissed. "That's enough cha-chaing for now."

She waves everyone off the middle of the living room as Jacob and Janine immediately carry their friend over to the couch.

Janine and Jacob are on either side of (Y/N), who now has a pillow under her head and a cold peas bag on her forehead.

"It’s okay, you just—uh—really committed to that slide." Janine comforted her.

"Did the floor kiss me back?"

"Unfortunately."

"If I hear “criss cross” one more time, I’m going to criss cross my way into therapy. The floor was freshly waxed! (Y/N) went down like a white girl in a horror movie." Jacob rants.

Barbara storms off the dance floor towards Ava who is still dancing in the corner with zero self-awareness. She is sweaty, and her lips are smudged. This is not the Barbara Howard everyone knows, and certainly not the Barbara Howard they'd want to meet.

"I blame Jacob. She took over the mission and turned it into a 2016 flashmob. Tragic."

"I told you not to let her lead! The boy couldn’t direct traffic at a four-way stop!"

"Strike two."

Jacob is now close to crying.

"I am... So tired. My perfect Christmas plan has been hijacked. Nothing is where it should be. I cannot take this anymore. Everything has gone wrong."

"Up next, (Y/N) versus Melissa!" Janine declares with the energy of a game show host.

"Okay, I've figured it out!" she beams, turning to the camera like she’s cracked a government code. "Everyone's been forcing the two of them to go to each other—but why would I do that, when they basically jump at each other's throats when they're arguing?"

"This is the final round of charades," Janine explains, clipboard in hand. "Teams are tied. Ava has been disqualified for cheating—"

"I wasn't cheating!" Ava shouts from the couch, mid-sip of someone else's cider.

The entire group turns slowly to stare directly into the camera.

"Alright, Mr. Johnson, start the timer in 3, 2, 1—go!"

"What just happened?"

"Hey, it's polish, not Polish, (Y/N)," Jacob argues. "Tell her, Mel!"

"Eh... No. It's Polish. Capital, see?" Melissa flips the card around. "My fault."

"The world is doomed. Melissa just apologised. Well, not really. But she admitted it was her fault? Instead of punching (Y/N)? This is strike three. Barbara is about to snap."

Everyone is buzzing, from the alcohol? From the anger? From the exhaustion? Who knows.

Barbara clinks her wine glass, a strange calm washing over the dishevelled woman. “Everyone, settle down. It’s time for the Secret Santa exchange.”

"If I get socks from any of y'all's broke asses, I'm burning this house down." Ava groans.

(Y/N) looks at her with fear, "Please, don't."

They gather around the tree. The large stack of gifts standing beneath the tree with pride.

"I shall go first," Barbara states, picking out a small box from the pile, wrapped neatly with a golden bow on top. "This is for a person that I deeply admired, especially as I've seen her persevere today."

"This gift is for Ava Coleman."

Slowly, Ava reaches out for the box, shock filling her from the woman's words. She tore the wrapping off carefully, opening the box, and revealing a custom journal.

A maroon principal logbook, AC embossed in gold, and a sticky note reading: "You might not be the glue of this school, but you are the glitter. Keep shining."

"Barbara. You didn't."

"I did, Principal Coleman."

"Well, in that case. It's a good thing that I got you too, right?"

"Oh, dear."

Ava pulls out a large box from underneath the piles, almost dropping it a couple of times before setting it down in front of Barbara. "Heh. Open it!"

A plush robe that feels expensive, masks of various kinds, teas, serums, crystals, scented candles, and other relaxation items that felt almost all too much. And in the corner of a box is a pad of "Ava-Vouchers".

It read stubs like: One hour no nonsense from me, tea time, TEA time, no one is allowed to interrupt Barbara for this period, etc.

"Ava, this is truly too much." Barbara, for the first time today, smiled genuinely.

"No, Barbara. I am too much. This is the least I could do, because I know you stressed after havin' to handle all our crazy behinds!"

"That is true."

The rest of the gift giving had proceeded smoothly, the tension in the room finally dialing down.

Janine got Gregory who gifted him a white hoodie with her lipstick marks all over. Gregory wore it the whole night. The first day of school. The second day. And then the day after that till the day before laundry day.

Gregory got Gerald. Man to man, a gold watch that matched Barbara's. "I hope I can be a great husband like you someday."

O'shon received Ava's favourite perfume on a man from Gerald—data from Barbara, of course, and an advice to always stick by your woman, even when they've gone cray-cray.

He then took the weirdly shaped gift under the tree to give to Mr. Johnson, producing a taxidermy squirrel with a mustache and a monocle, affectionately named Mr. Davis and rightfully placed on his desk.

"Huh," Melissa lets out a dry chuckle. "So, you rigged this whole thing, didn't you?"

Ava and Barbara react violently to the accusatory finger being pointed their way, Ava looking offended while simultaneously trying to hold back a furious and distraught Barbara from murdering her best friend in cold blood during Christmas.

"What do you mean?" Barbara asks, voice dangerously low.

"Me and (Y/N) are the last two ones," she sticks her tongue to her cheek. "We got each other. What a coincidence, seeing as all y'all knew that we liked each other and decided to meddle like it's some middle school dance."

Barbara took a deep breath and raised a finger, "Yes, I have meddled—"

The redhead threw her hands up, "I knew it! Unbelievable, Barbara."

“Let me finish, woman. Or so help me, I will sin on the day of the birth of the Lord's son.”

"Honestly, Barbara for principal." Ava shrugs.

“I have meddled today more than I have ever wanted in my entire life. I climbed and fell off a ladder. I destroyed countless amounts of Christmas decor— may the Lord forgive me. I was coerced into ruining my perfectly non-sticky and non-hard sweet potato pie—" she glares at Ava. "—because you two are about as emotionally intelligent as this piece of tissue! You baboons can’t string together a sentence that wasn’t dipped in fear and sarcasm.”

Melissa and (Y/N) stared at Barbara, who has now gotten right in Melissa's face.

“Don’t you know I’ve blamed myself? Every time your heart breaks, mine does, too. I’m your best friend, Melissa. And I’ll be damned if I let you throw away the one person who actually looks at you like you hung the Christmas star just because you think beer and running away from your problems will solve it.”

“I have risked my dignity. My morals. My sanity. We all have!"

They stare at the exhausted faces of their co-workers, pity settling deep in their stomachs.

"It's a good thing that Ava actually took the initiative—which is more than I could say for either of you two—and gave me the push I needed to scream at your face to just kiss already! If that’s so wrong, so be it. But this is what friends do."

Melissa is teary-eyed, staring at Barbara in awe and respect. But through her tears, she had managed to let out a laugh. A genuine one.

Beside her, (Y/N) grinned at the two of them, clearly endeared at Barbara's speech.

"I love you, Barb." Melissa choked out.

"Have I finally gone insane in my pre-frontal cortex?" Barbara stares at the camera.

"But, seriously? Kiss already? We already did, ya gabortz!"

The scene cuts back to earlier that day, a few minutes of charged silence after their fight.

It was clear as day to (Y/N) that no words would satisfy the redhead. That the looks that she gave her—one that made her feel holy, something that she'd gladly worship, even if it meant her damnation. That would only light the flame further inside Melissa.

So, she did what came next to her clouded mind.

A soft and gentle hand behind her neck, just enough for Melissa to pull away if she had wanted to. Slow and deliberate, and a slight pause just as their lips were about to meet.

It wasn't hesitation, no. It was a silent promise that (Y/N) intended to keep.

And then, they kissed. Simple as that.

Stubborn as they may be, love finds a way.

Melissa kissed back with hunger and fear and want. She tasted wine and something terrifyingly real. Something she didn’t know how to name yet—but she craved it. She needed it. And when breath finally became necessary, she pulled back with a reluctant gasp.

"(Y/N)."

"Yes?"

"You don't know what you've just done."

"I don't. But I intend to find out."

A pause.

"Are you sure about this? 'Cause you break my heart, I'm breaking your knees, dolcezza."

"I'm damn sure, mi amore."

"Then kiss me again, you gabortz."

So, they kissed once. Twice. A couple more times. Who's counting, really?

"You... Kissed."

"Yep. Maybe we're not as stupid and emotionally unavailable as you thought we were."

"I guess not." Barbara says, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. "But why were you avoiding each other?"

"I guess we just... Got freaked out? But we did talk it out, and yeah." (Y/N) chuckles, "So, can we go back to giving our gifts? I really cannot wait to show you—"

"Slow your roll, dolcezza. I'm going first."

"But—"

Melissa's lips land on (Y/N), and it immediately shuts her up. "No buts."

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #barbara howard #ava coleman #janine teagues #gregory eddie #mr johnson #wlw #gay #fanfiction

65 notes · View notes

aphrosheir · 2 months ago

Text

>>> Red Hair, Red Wine, Red Handed Pt. 2 <<<

[A/N: Part 2 of this madness. I hope y'all are still following the plot??? Uhm... okay, bye!]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

"Barb," Ava calls out from the doorframe of the kindergarten teacher's room like a perp. "Barbara."

"Ava, what are you doing?" Barbara lets out a long suffering sigh. The veteran teacher has been in Abbott for years, and she is one hairfall away from losing it. "If you need to talk to me, be a proper woman and sit."

"But Barbara, this is an important mission. High stakes! Classified."

"Lord, you know that I am not your greatest soldier."

"Give me strength."

"Ava. Sit down."

And just like that, Ava is sitting on—who's chair is this? Lacey Hope, the tag reads—because everyone listens when Barbara Howard tells them to sit down.

"You know, Barbara scares me. Just a little bit."

"Now, what is it that you so desperately needed me on a Friday afternoon after the kids have all gone and rested, mere days before the birth of our Lord and saviour?"

"(Y/N) and Melissa."

"No."

"But they're perfect for each other, Barb!"

"I know!"

"So, you're in?"

"I—what even is your plan?"

Ava wiggles her eyebrows, "I knew you'd come around!"

"I didn't say—"

"So, Christmas romance. What's the equivalent of locking two people together in a room until they confess their feelings?"

Barbara’s pointed look was lethal, but Ava—like all great heroes—persevered.

"Mistletoe. Barb, it's literally the most classic, most romantic, most lovey-dovey shit ever—Barbara, you cannot say no to this."

"It is not right to meddle with our friends' lives like this."

"Look, Barbara. I am not getting enough sleep because (Y/N) won't stop rambling about how Melissa's hair looks like a soft fire or how she would combust if she didn't kiss her yet. Tell me, are you not tired of their abuse on us?"

"Abuse?" Barbara's tone was a double deadpan at this point, listening to the antics of her boss—technically—and wondering how her life had let to this.

"I have lived my life by the word of the Lord, I do not know how I've come to this."

"Yes, abuse! Have you seen the bags under my eyes, Barb? I know, because I can see yours too."

Barbara gasped, covering her perfect face with her hands, and scandalised that Ava would say such a thing. "How dare you?"

"But... It is quite true. Melissa has been pestering me about the perfect gift for (Y/N) for how many nights now," she muttered.

Barbara pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something about patience being a virtue.

"But—I am not doing this."

"You know," Ava went on, undeterred, "if the Virgin Mary had waited as long as those two have, Jesus would’ve been born in July."

"Ava!"

"I'm just saying."

A long silence settled between them. Barbara folded her arms. Ava leaned back in Lacey Hope's chair like it was a recliner at a stakeout. Finally, with a tired sigh that sounded like the last gasp of her restraint, Barbara spoke:

"Fine. But if we’re going to meddle, we’re doing it with grace, decorum, and discretion."

Ava grinned, already pulling out her phone. "So… Operation Kiss-mas is a go?"

Barbara closed her eyes. "Lord, forgive me for I am about to sin in the name of love."

"I cannot believe that I am doing this."

"Oh, you betta' believe it, sister!"

"Wow, (Y/N)! Your house is gorgeous. This looks straight out of my 'Future Home if I Got Out of Bankruptcy' Pinterest Board." Janine exclaims excitedly as (Y/N) greeted them, now donning an oddly familiar "Silent Night, Violent Night" sweater over her dress.

"Ha!" Ava belly laughs at Janine's quip.

The crew stares at the cameras.

"I love how you kids still have that classic sense of humour. Keep it up, Janine, you might be able to make my good list next year."

"It wasn't... It wasn't a joke—"

"Now, are you all ready for a night of love?" Ava enthusiastically exclaimed, arms outstretched.

"—for our darling boy, Jesus Christ! Yes, that is right, praise His name, Hallelujah." Barbara cut in, as graceful as ever.

The crew cheered with a few stray "Merry Christmases" and a very enthusiastic "Happy Holidays" from Jacob filling the house.

"Ava, remember. Grace, decorum, and discretion."

Janine thanked the Lord that everyone agreed to come at the same time—save for Melissa, seeing as how the redhead was sitting at the couch like a grumpy little gnome as she stared at her phone like it killed her family.

If the time change was or wasn't caused by Ava 'convincing' everyone to make their lives easier and totally not to get Melissa and (Y/N) alone for that slowburn action, only the Lord knows.

"Oh, hi, Melissa!" Janine gave her a small wave. "How's the food?"

The deathly glare that Melissa sent her way was enough of an answer for her and—the rest of the crew—to maybe avoid Melissa until she gets a few more glasses of beer into her system.

"I mean..." Janine chuckled nervously, eyes darting to the side. "Melissa's usually grrr and rawr! I know that. We all know that. But, now it's like RAHHHH!"

"And (Y/N) hasn't even complimented my Slyther-claw sweaters with our initials! I just—I hope they're alright. Like, you know... I want to see the New Year, guys."

"Merry Christmas, y'all! Now, go upstairs and pick out your own rooms, especially if you are planning to stay. Find a room buddy and bunker up. After that, go wild! I'm lookin' at you, Jacob, my Mistle-bro!"

"Yeah, (Y/N) and I are tight. We're mistle-bros in this ho-ho-ho!"

"Jacob? Jacob, where are you?! The ladder is shaking!"

"Oh no, I'm coming, Janine!"

"Hey, (Y/N). Where can we put our food?"

"Right," (Y/N)'s uncharacteristic dull eyes lit up. "Y'all can put it somewhere on the dining table. I cannot wait to see what you've cooked up, Mr. Eddie-ble!"

"Please do not call me that."

But it was too late as Jacob gave a high-five to (Y/N).

Janine, on the other hand, had already led the group to the kitchen, Gregory being stuck beside a rambling Jacob.

"She’s loud. Social. Talks to everyone. But no one’s been here until now. That’s... something."

Jacob chimed in from Gregory's side, eyes frantically shooting from one place to another, "You know, this house gives strong ‘refined vintage with a twist of eccentric aunt’ energy. All this woodwork? Totally Craftsman. Those gold drawer handles? French provincial. And these trinkets? A curated chaos—it's like an antique shop got organized by colour theory!"

Gregory shoots the camera a 'please kill me' look.

"So, we just take any room here?" Janine asked, exploring the quaint yet surprisingly large house.

It housed 5 rooms upstairs and an attic turned library on the third floor. The halls seemed to stretch far and wide for Janine, who was leading the group, ever the over-excited camp counsellor.

"Yeah! My room is the farthest to the right. Nope, not that right, my right! Nope, still the wrong way—Janine, my right and your right are the same!"

Just then, Gregory put a hand on top of Janine's shoulders gently and quietly, turning her to the correct direction.

"Oh—uh, that one. Right. Thank you, (Y/N)!" She waved down to the woman downstairs before gingerly turning to her boyfriend. "And, thank you, Gregory."

"Move it along, lovebirds! I am trying to get my holiday glee awn," Mr. Johnson yelled, hauling his bag over his shoulder, pushing past the youngins in front of him.

"So..." Ava started, walking up beside Barbara who was taking in the kitchen; fluffing up a wreath, wiping a stray dust particle off the table, moving around a red-lipstick stain on a mug that ironically states (Y/N)'s mug—anything to keep Ava from talking to her. But alas... "Operation Jingle Smash is a go?"

"I thought it was Operation Season of Love? You know what, I still do not give a hoot about the name. Ava, what exactly is your plan now?"

"Well, for Operation Ho Ho Homoerotic Tension—" Barbara glares. "No? Okay. But, I suggest we just place a mistletoe somewhere they might frequent and lead them there. Easy peasy, pussy squeezy, right?"

"I—you are testing me right now."

Ava winks, "And you are passing, baby."

"But, well. That is quite easy. I suggest we start here, at the kitchen. We could call Melissa and (Y/N) to explain the dishes they've made? Now, wouldn't that be a nice bonding moment for them, a nice build up before they—you know."

"Kiss, Barbara? You can say kiss, can't you," Ava deadpans. "But, honestly, Barb. I don't think that's gonna work."

"Oh, come on. It'll be nice, Ava. Trust me." Barbara smiles, "Well look at me scheming all up on here, for Operation Proper Pairing."

"Still needs work."

"(Y/N)! Melissa!" Barbara calls out to the two women. (Y/N) turning her head from the couch as Melissa walks out of the right wing of the second floor, looking annoyed as she was in the middle of curling her hair.

"What'd'ya need, Barb," Melissa asks, clearly annoyed at the interruption of her beauty routine.

"Well, I was just wondering—" she clasped her hands together, in the usual Barbara Howard manner, "If our lovely cooks could explain the menu for tonight, seeing as how hard the two of you have worked on these—"

"Yeah, no. Pass, Barbs."

(Y/N) looked at Barbara, serious and unbreaking. "Barb. As much as I wish I could, but... I don't know if I can ever tell my trauma of the mashed potatoes without violently crying and throwing up. I'm sorry, Barb."

"I—"

"Told you, it wouldn't work."

"Well, what are we supposed to do now?"

"Give me your hand."

"What?"

Ava shot her a look. "Just trust me."

And just as Barbara's perfectly manicured nails hesitantly landed on top of Ava's, the woman grasped it so tight, Barbara couldn't move even as she saw that the trajectory of her hand was about to land on top of her precious sweet potato pie. "Ava!"

"Help, Barbara's hand is stuck on her hard and sticky sweet potato pie!"

"AVA!"

"How dare she call my sweet potato pie hard and sticky?"

"Was I wrong?"

"Stop being dramatic, Barb. Whatever youse plannin', I ain't fallin' for it." Melissa retorted, retreating up to her bedroom.

"I told you, it would not work. What a waste of a good p—Ava. Ava. I can't get my hand out, Ava."

"Was I wrong though?" Ava preached. "It took us a whole hour to wash that sweet potato pie off her hands."

"My nails smell of it."

"Could've been worse. It could've been smelling like Jacob's vegan nachos that looks like it came out of Santa's chimney. Seriously, how and why would you make nachos vegan?"

"So, 3 more hours to go and still no kiss." Ava sighs, lathering Barbara's hands in (Y/N)'s almost empty handsoap that she could've sworn she just replaced before they had arrived.

"It's... Alright. It was our first attempt, is all. Warm-up, correct?"

"Of course."

As the afternoon progressed, neat little garlands hung from (Y/N)'s high wooden ceilings, lights twinkling and up to safety code—according to O'shon. Now was the time for them to litter the whole house with mistletoes.

The couch where Melissa would frequent, watching the game that currently played on the TV. Beneath the tall pine tree that brought the whole room to life. Above the fireplace where pictures of (Y/N) in her years in Abbott had been kept.

Just a couple.

"Hey, did you move the stockings here?" Gregory asked, the askew decorations making his brain tick.

"No, but did you take off the star? I know it looks old but it's an important part of Christmas." Janine's voice grew in pitch, her once perfect makeup now had sweat tracks running through her forehead.

"I didn't," he said flatly.

Just then, Jacob came running in, "Oh my God, you guys. The little elf garlands I made of us? Hung it near the TV? Completely destroyed. Donezo. Gone. My elf even lost its head..."

Gregory let out a shrug, "Well... That one wasn't too bad."

"I don't know what's happening and I'm scared. What if it's Krampus, getting back at us for all the times we've been bad this year? Oh no, I knew that almond milk was bad but I kept still bought them. I love the film it develops, I'm sorry!"

"Okay, let's not jump into... Improbable conclusions, alright?"

"I don't want to live in a basket!" Jacob shrieks.

Gregory slaps him across the face, "You're not!"

"Gregory!" Janine exclaims.

"I am so sorry, Jacob. I don't know what came over me."

"No, it's fine. You're right. I've been a good boy. I ate my veggies. I slept before my bed time," Jacob stated with conviction.

"That's not..."

"Whatever happened here," Janine gestured to their ruined decorations, "We have to figure out who did it and put an end to—"

Thud.

"Oh no, Krampus is here to take me!"

"Hey, what is going on here?"

"—I told you, put the ladder to the left! Ava, you are the principal, but I am well sure that my kindergarteners would be able to take my instructions better than you because they actually know where their left and right is!"

"Damn, Barb. I thought you were all about grace, decorum, and discretion?" Ava mutters as she helps the woman stand.

"This is grace," Barbara gestures to herself. Her hair is sticking out in a bunch of directions, beige blouse untucked and the matching brown pants wrinkled.

Janine steps forward, staring at the carnage of tinsel and baubles. "What have you been doing in here?"

"We were smuggling mistletoes to gift Santa's elves for being good helpers this year," Barbara answers incredulously. "What does it look like to you, Janine?"

Jacob leans towards Gregory, "Uhm... I'm still scared. But I think it's not of Krampus anymore."

"Ava, I have been teaching for well over 20 years. I am not about to lose my sanity over two over-grown, emotionally impaired babies who thinks they'll explode if they show an ounce of emotion and a God-forsaken mistletoe!"

The growl she let out at the last part sent a shockwave through the hallway, making the teachers take a very mindful step back.

"I hope Gerald doesn't arrive any time soon. He might kill me for breaking his wife."

"So..." Ava takes a hesitant step forward, quickly snatching the poor mistletoe from Barbara's hand as if she's taking a bone from a rabid dog. "I say, let's stop this and let them be, maybe?"

"No."

Janine could swear that she saw smoke curl from her nostrils and a dangerous red flare pass her eye.

"We're going to finish Operation All I Want for Christmas is for These Idiots to Kiss even if it kills us."

"Us?"

"Yes, us. Unless you want what happened to your little elf counterpart to happen to you too, Jacob."

"For years, I have watched Melissa Schemmenti chase after men who couldn’t tell her love from drywall—getting her heart trampled on like church flyers at a state fair. But not this time. This time, she has a devoted woman—determined, loving, borderline feral—and she’s pushing her away!"

"I have not meddled once. Not once. But this time, Schemmenti? I am onto your mess. I am in your mess. I am practically neck-deep in your emotional debris."

As Jacob had hung up his elf once again—the head held up by glue and prayers—he turned to a calmer Barbara, "I did notice them avoiding each other."

"Don't get me started when they practically burn a hole through the other's head when staring at then when they know the other wasn't looking," Gregory said, crossing his arms.

"Honestly," Janine added, frowning, "I haven't seen them talk to each other this whole day..."

"Children—when you have known Melissa Schemmenti for as long as I have, you'd know that that woman is practically a flammable material."

Janine nodded, "And (Y/N) is like a matchstick to her. She eats confrontation for breakfast."

"I wonder what happened to them. Before Melissa arrived, (Y/N) and I were just talking about her wanting to impress Mel."

"So... Melissa and I kind of got into a fight earlier."

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #barbara howard #janine teagues #gregory eddie #mr. johnson #wlw #fanfiction #gay

49 notes · View notes

aphrosheir · 2 months ago

Text

>>> Red Hair, Red Wine, Red Handed Pt. 1 <<<

[A/N: Like, omg. I've been gone for so long. Anyways, enjoy this Melissa fic. I've been cooking up for the last week. I don't know if it makes sense? I hope it does. Melissa and (Y/N) are idiots. Barb is tired of it. Ava wants drama. I hope I did the amazing storytelling of Abbott Elementary justice—everyone say thank you to Quinta! This has like, a lot of Easter eggs. Have fun finding them. I really had a lot of fun writing this.

ITALICS ARE CONFESSIONALS!!!

For the sake of... fitting the word count, this "oneshot" is going to be split into 3 parts.

If y'all enjoy this, I have an idea—completely unrelated to the plot of this one, but set in the same universe—but I'm not too good at keeping those promises. Depends!]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

"So, like I said, Melissa should be the one hosting the party!" Jacob announces to the rest of the faculty with finality and glee.

"Calm down, Hill," she warned, giving the man a side glare. "Just 'cause the rest of youses cooking ain't shit, doesn't mean that I'm gonna turn my house into your personal hotel for Christmas."

"I love Christmas. I do. But you think I’m cleaning up Jacob’s Pinterest Turkey Disaster 2.0? Fuggedaboutit."

"Melissa," Barbara clutched her pearls, a look of betrayal crossing her face as she turned to her work wife. "I'll have you know that I make a darn good prime rib and sweet potato pie for my homeboy, J. Christ!"

Janine stares at her work mother with concern, wondering how much pop culture has Ava and (Y/N) been able to slip into her morning coffee today. Her boyfriend, Gregory, on the other hand, just stares at the camera, pointed at them with eyes that pretty much sums up his exasperation.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) is off giggling at the other side of the faculty lounge, enjoying the seed she had planted. She was, after all, a kindergarten teacher. She knew how to have fun.

You see, Christmas was about a week away. (Y/N), ever the one to die without drama, has thought of a most brilliant plan to fuel her desires: A Christmas dinner for the faculty. Chaos at every corner, burnt food, terrible presents, and even worse karaoke. It was perfect.

"What are you giggling at, shortstack?" Melissa's eyes snapped to the girl, her glasses now perched on top of her head and phone on the table. Her enchanting hazel eyes are now on (Y/N).

Well, shit.

(Y/N) loved the Abbott crew. She loved the drama, chaos, and the occasional camera crew that came with them. She loved them like her own family. But she loved one of them a little more than the others.

Oh, how the raging fire draws in the naive moth.

"Me? Well, Melissa, I know that you love me, but what do I have to do with this?"

(Y/N) ignored the burning of her cheeks and sent a wink to the redhead's way, playing down her insanely noticeable crush; flirting shamelessly and fighting like an old married couple—or two immature children, depending on the day.

But the crew was used to it by now, especially Barbara, who raised a perfectly plucked brow, seeing how far the two would take it before finally realising.

"Melissa and (Y/N) are two extremely smart and capable women." Barbara states with the passion and theatrics that the kindergarten teacher usually carries, but her smile drops at the end of the statement. "But God knows that those two are about as oblivious as the walnuts in Ava's oats."

Melissa responded as eagerly as (Y/N) had started, pursing her lips. "Don't play dumb with me, dolcezza. I've shared lunch with you a lot of times. I need someone who isn't gonna burn down the kitchen with water."

"Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti asking for help?" Ava's voice cut through the thick, unyielding tension in the air, clearly looking to stir the pot.

"I am so tired of them dancing around each other. And not to mention that (Y/N) basically treats me as her personal diary! She doesn't even pay me. I cannot take this anymore."

"(Y/N), you are quite literally a little miracle."

"Shut it, Coleman." (Y/N) bites back at Ava, hopping off the table where she was seated, before waltzing towards Melissa. She got up right on the redhead's face with a sickly smile, "But then again, how could I ever resist you, mi amore?"

Pretending to roll her eyes, Melissa returned to her already cold macchiato with a scoff. "I still can't host, though. I don't want to be cleanin' up after y'allses drunk asses."

"Oh, well, I can host! Just as long as Janine helps me with the decorations," (Y/N) volunteers, and she swears she could hear Melissa's thick accent muttering about her being a suck-up or something.

"What?" Melissa exclaims at the camera, her glare piercing through the lenses.

Janine squeals, sending a shock through the spines of the faculty. "Of course, I'll join (Y/N)! It'll be an honour."

"I can plan!" Jacob announces, standing with the two girls.

"Okay, so I already have a Pinterest board ready, a playlist we can listen to, and matching outfits!"

"It's like if the sun and Redbull had a baby and them babies were triplets." Ava chimed in, staring at the three youngest members of the faculty exchanging ideas at a hundred miles per hour.

As the clock ticks its last tocks to the end of their break, Jacob stands in the middle of the room, "So, (Y/N) is hosting. She'll be cooking alongside Melissa, and the rest of us will bring a dish of our own—Gregory did you put this in here?"

"I had to."

"Put what where?"

"Open parenthesis, asterisk, caps, underlined, "EDIBLE", exclamation mark, exclamation mark, exclamation mark, close parenthesis."

The glances exchanged in the room ranged from eye rolls, knowing, mischievous, and downright evil. Later on, Gregory would come to regret his choice of words like a monkey's paw.

"Alright... Well, let's continue. I'm in charge of overall planning, Ava and Barbara running Secret Santa, Gregory, and Janine on décor, O'shon gets the karaoke machine—goodluck, and Mr. Johnson with the clean up. Be there before 4. Any questions?"

A unanimous chorus of "no" from the crew—and a helpless "I ain't cleanin' up no love juice, y'all hear me?" from Mr. Johnson—signalled the end of their meeting. But before Melissa could walk out of the break room, (Y/N)'s fingers danced lightly on her waist.

"You can come a little early if you want to have a bit of fun." (Y/N) 'whispered' theatrically with her signature wink, letting the message ring through the lounge. Emerald-green eyes shoot her a dangerous glare—equal parts mischief and warning.

Barb offers a sign of the cross while Janine is mentally cursing herself for agreeing to come early, too.

"Get a damn room." Ava groans, walking between the two with a force that separated them before stopping at the door frame. "Let me know which one, though."

The crew stares at the cameras.

"Stop it." Gregory states, devoid of emotion, as he just so happens to be beside Ava and spit out the freshly brewed joe he attempted to gulp down back into his "#3 Best Teacher" mug. "STOP IT."

"I think you just broke my man," Janine declares with concern as Gregory's stiff speedwalk carried him into the safety of his classroom.

The day could not have come any sooner for (Y/N), as Melissa actually took up her offer of coming early, claiming that she needed as much prep time as she could have.

"Ava, I don't know what to wear," she muttered on the phone, feeling herself slipping from reality. "I mean, yes—these dresses are absolutely gorgeous, but I don't think they're it, y'know."

The complaints turned into a grumble, making Ava roll her eyes at her friend's antics. "Baby girl, what do you mean 'it'. You don't wanna be lookin' like no clown there."

"Ava Eva Coleman."

"I know, I know. But, girl. Trust me when I say, Red will be all over you anyways! I mean, come on, have you seen the way she looks at you? I swear I could've seen her drooling that one time you were sick and stuck in hoodies for a week."

It was now (Y/N)'s turn to roll her eyes. As much as she was grateful to find an older sister in Ava, she knew that her boss exaggerates... Well, everything.

"Seriously, don't you have any dresses I could borrow?"

"I love you, (Y/N), but these dresses were made for Ava Coleman—and Ava Coleman does not cook."

"Then what am I supposed to wear?"

"Wear the red dress."

"But, Ava, that's too—"

Before she could protest, the hang-up tone beeped through her bedroom and made way to the brain-crushing silence that followed.

Just as she had put down the brown Mac lipstick that Ava had given her, the doorbell had rang, and her heart dropped to her ass. Curses flew around her as she almost burned herself on the iron she had left on her vanity.

Ding.

The rings became even more impatient, and (Y/N) could already feel the scalding remarks that the redhead had in-store for her.

"I'm coming, jeez," (Y/N) yelled, padding down the stairs. "Really, Schemmenti, you could've just said that you missed me."

"As if, shortstack. I could say the same for—"

Melissa's quip hung in the air as she took you in, surprise flooding her. But as quick as she was shot down, Melissa was as quick to regain her composure. Of course she did. She was used to the game that you two had played, ever since the first day you've stepped foot into Abbott.

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you got all dressed up for me, huh, dolcezza?"

That damned nickname always got butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Stepping back, she let her into the quiant home with a smirk. "You don't look all that bad either; a Philly 11 indeed."

"Yeah, yeah. I still need to fix all of this after we cook, though."

"Hm..." Melissa hummed, raking her eyes over the house. "A house at your age? I'm surprised (Y/N)."

"Okay, I have like... The faintest idea of how old she is. Like, she barely looks 11!"

"It's my father's. One of his properties that he so graciously lent to me. But, I am paying it off. I insisted." (Y/N) looks at the bags hanging on Melissa's fingers, spotting a perfectly wrapped gift in a bag amongst all the cooking supplies she hauled in. A very welcome distraction from whatever the conversation was leading to.

Without another word, she reached down to grab them and set them out on the counter.

"(Y/N), what the hell do you think you're doing," she exclaims in her classic Schemmenti fashion. "Gimme those back."

"Calm down, mi amore." (Y/N) deadpanned, unknowingly letting the nickname slip. She walked over to the massive tree, standing in the middle of her living room and gently placing the gift down. "This is probably the only time you'll see me actually be helpful, and I'm honestly wondering who you got for Secret Santa."

"It's for her. Of course, it's for her."

Melissa looked away from the camera with annoyance. "I don't even know the first thing about the girl."

"I just—she wouldn't shut up about this corny little jawn she found online. Had to call in a favour from a guy I know. Cost me a good chunk'a beer. And gas. And my morals—but hey, who's got 'em in this day and age?"

"Don't even think about peeking, shortie." Melissa fires at her, something triggering her flight of fight mode as her usual quips didn't have the edge thay she had to her voice now. "I could ask you the same thing, seeing as your gift is as huge as Ava's ego."

"It's for someone real special, Red." (Y/N) said in an almost dreamy sigh, Melissa's face contorting into something of a blend between confusion, disgust, and something else that (Y/N) couldn't quite place. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, hm?"

Melissa pursed her lips again, thoughts running through her head like Sweet Cheeks in his wheel, yet thought better than to push it. The classic Schemmenti move to push away genuine feelings and to opt for:

"Well, just don't expect me to cry for anything less than a thousand buckaroos, hon."

"You're assuming it's for you? Wow, Schemmenti. You wish."

"It's for her. Of course, it's for her." (Y/N) let out a laugh that one could only call deranged. "It's always been Melissa."

"Got her this top of the line, custom-made knife set. My friend, Gordon, recommended it to me. It's heavy for all the chopping that Melissa does and with ornate wood handles with her initials because Italians like the pizzazz."

Clang.

"Shit."

"Mel, you okay back there?"

"M'fine." Melissa replied gruffly.

"But see, that's the thing! That's why I stick to flirting. Melissa is not ready for a relationship. She barely even handles non-romantic emotion properly!"

The camera cuts to Melissa raging a war on the automatic stove—hitting it with a frying pan with a war cry, pushing the buttons relentlessly, staring at it and hoping it'll catch on fire and disintegrate; cursing (Y/N) for having techy gabortz in her kitchen that is crushing her damn pride. "(Y/N), your thingamajig is shit! Stoves are supposed to have knobs, not opinions!"

"And besides, I doubt she even likes me."

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #barbara howard #janine teagues #gregory eddie #ava coleman #mr johnson #wlw #gay #fanfiction

77 notes · View notes

aphrosheir · 2 months ago

Text

ways they can sneak a little canon mirandy into tdwp2 movie aka the only way it will be worth it

Miranda has to make a call late at night so we see her in bed with her glasses then the camera pans over to Andy half naked in bed beside her, sleepily asking what's happening.

Miranda end a call saying "I love you too" then have Nigel (wait is Stanley Tucci in the sequel??) go "oh how is Six anyway?" to be greeted with an eye roll. So simple.

scene: the den. Miranda is tired and working on something. We hear the door open elsewhere in the townhouse and footsteps approaching only to be met with Miranda saying, “You’re late.” In an annoyed voice. “Really? You’re going to complain about me working late?” Andy says off screen before walking into frame and sitting down beside Miranda on the couch. She wraps her arms around her and kisses her cheek, “I’m sorry.” To which Miranda replies, “I suppose I can think of some way you can make it up to me Andrea.” Andy grins.

Miranda attends some party. Someone asks her vaguely about her partner and she says Andrea is off on assignment overseas covering something for some news paper (not the mirror, somewhere bigger)

PHOTO ON HER DESK IN AN ESTABLISHING SHOT. ANDY WITH MIRANDA. BOTH OF THEM WITH THE TWINS. PLEASE EVEN JUST SOMETHING THIS SMALL IM BEGGING.

#i am so gay begging for this #i am so gay #period #mirandy #mirandy brainrot

64 notes · View notes

aphrosheir · 6 months ago

Text

My goofy ahh

Fully inspired by everyone on TikTok doing this trend so did one but of Hyunju and your goofy ahh so enjoy this portrait I made of you :3

1K notes · View notes

aphrosheir · 6 months ago

Note

i would LOVE. a gentle smut with player 120, where cho hyun-ju had been feeling off due to the feeling of everyone looking at her weird in the games for being trans, but the reader yk just loved her for her, and wanted to show her that and basically just have intimate lovey dovey sex with her!? LIKE SORRY IF THIS IS CONFUSING.. IM JUST ALL FOR THE GENTLE SMUTS OF HER ESPECIALLY THEY DRIVE ME NUTS BRO

I'm so sorry if it took so long I had to sift thru requests sooo... hope you enjoy tho :)

Here are soime pics as well as compensation

Title = A Small Token of Appreciation

Warnings = smut🔞, touching, kissing, blowjob, gentle sex, cumming in mouth

Pairing = Hyun ju (Player 120) x GN! reader

Word count = 1.7k words

The tension in the air was palpable as Cho Hyun-ju sat in the corner, her gaze distant, lost in her own thoughts. Ever since entering the games, she had felt the weight of every pair of eyes on her, every whisper and judgmental stare. People had made their assumptions, and it made her feel like she didn’t belong, not just in the game, but in the world around her. Everyone was questioning the fact that she looked so much like a boy despite acting feminine.

The insecurity started to simmer beneath her calm exterior and had been growing, creeping in quietly with each passing day, until it was almost impossible to ignore.

But you could see it, the way she held herself a little more tightly, the subtle frown that tugged at the corners of her mouth, and the sadness in her eyes that she tried so hard to hide. No one else seemed to notice, or maybe they were too afraid to acknowledge what was happening beneath the surface. But you noticed. And you knew exactly how to show her that none of that mattered to you.

You loved her, not for any reason other than the fact that she was Cho Hyun-ju. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. To you, she was perfect, every little part of her. Her strength, her vulnerability, the way she cared so deeply for others. It was all so beautiful.

You approached her slowly, your steps soft against the floor as you closed the distance between you two. Your heart hurt to see her like this, but you wouldn’t push her. You knew she needed to come to you when she was ready. As you reached her, you knelt down beside her, your fingertips gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She flinched slightly at the touch, but you could see the tension in her body begin to ease just a little.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of warmth. It was more than just a greeting, it was a reminder. A reminder that she wasn’t alone in this. “Y’know… you don’t have to carry all of this alone, you know?”

Her eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for the briefest moment, you saw the walls she had built around herself crack just enough for you to glimpse her true feelings. Vulnerability. Doubt. Fear. She was a fighter on the outside, but in this very moment, she was simply someone who needed comfort. Someone who needed to be reminded that they were loved, just as they were. And you were the person to remind her.

You reached out and cupped her face with both hands, your thumbs brushing over her soft skin as you gazed into her eyes. “I love you,” you said, your voice a quiet but powerful declaration. “I love you for who you are, not what others think of you. You’re perfect just the way you are, and I need you to believe that.”

She didn’t say anything at first, but her lips parted slightly, a breath escaping as her eyes softened, the tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer will. You could see the way her breath hitched as the walls around her heart finally began to crumble, just a little.

And then, without another word, you leaned in, pressing your lips to hers with all the tenderness you could muster. It was a kiss that spoke of reassurance, of love that was unwavering. Slowly, you pulled back just enough to speak again, your voice now a soft whisper against her lips.

“I’m here for you, Hyun-ju,” you murmured. “And I always will be.”

Her arms came up to wrap around you, pulling you closer as if to say everything she couldn’t in that moment. The feeling of her embrace, the way she melted into you, trusting you, was all you needed to know that, no matter how hard the world outside was, you would always be there for her.

The kiss lingered for a moment, soft and full of meaning, but the tension between you two wasn’t just emotional anymore. It had slowly become something deeper, something that pulsed between your bodies, unspoken but undeniable. The way her body pressed against yours, the way her hands moved to your back, pulling you closer, it was clear she needed more. She needed to feel loved in every way, to be shown that she was desired just as much as she was valued.

You pulled away slightly, your breath coming out in soft, steady puffs. Her eyes were closed now, her cheeks flushed from the intensity of the kiss, and you could see the desire building in her. She was slow, steady, as if she was testing the waters. You reached down to brush your fingers along the sides of her arms, feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, your voice a soft murmur. You wanted her, but you also knew she needed to feel safe, to feel like she was in control of this moment, even if just a little.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she gazed at you with a quiet intensity. “I trust you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in it made your heart skip.

That was all you needed to hear.

You leaned in again, kissing her more deeply this time, your hands moving to trace the curve of her back, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. She responded almost immediately, her hands sliding up to your shoulders and then down to the fabric of your clothes, tugging at it gently as if asking you to remove the barrier between you two.

You paused for a moment, pulling back just enough to undress her slowly. Every piece of clothing that came off revealed more of the woman you adored, and with each layer she shed, you saw not just her physical beauty, but her soul, the woman who had faced so much and still managed to smile.

When she was finally bare before you, she looked up at you with such raw vulnerability, a quiet desire in her gaze that made your heart ache. “I need to feel you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

Your response was gentle, tender, as you cupped her face again, kissing her softly before guiding her to lay back, your hands running down her body in the most soothing way. “I’m here, Hyun-ju. You’re safe with me.”

You moved over her slowly, your body hovering just above hers as you kissed her once more. It was slow, languid, filled with the love you wanted to show her. Your hands explored every inch of her skin, tracing the curves you adored, feeling the warmth of her body beneath your fingertips. You could feel her shivering slightly as you moved lower, your lips following the path your hands had taken, pressing gentle kisses to her chest, her stomach.

She gasped softly as you moved between her legs, your fingers tracing the lines of her body, asking her permission with every touch. When you felt her nod, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her, you lowered your mouth to her, your lips brushing against her with such tenderness. You wanted to show her how beautiful she was, how much she meant to you in every possible way.

You were slow, slow because you knew she needed this gentleness, this tenderness, to remind her that she was desired for more than just her physicality. As you moved against her, your lips trailing soft kisses across her body, she responded with soft moans, her fingers gripping your hair, urging you to continue.

“I love you,” you whispered against her skin, your voice full of emotion. “I’m never letting you go.”

The two of you moved together, every touch, every kiss, every caress, meant to remind her that she was wanted, not just in this moment, but always.

Your hands tugged at her pants, and your eyes were looking up at her for approval. She looked towards you, meeting gazes and nodded her head, giving you the permission you needed. Gently, you slipped your finger between the waistband of her pants and her skin, letting it stay there before lightly pulling it off.

It revealed her red cock, it was a shade of pink that was so intense it must’ve hurt. You couldn’t let her go through it anymore so you quickly slipped it in your throat, shoving her whole length into your mouth.

“A-ah… slowly…” she moans.

You start moving your head up and down her cock, your tongue providing a warmth to her cock. The sudden warmth from your mouth heightened the pleasure even more, causing her to roll her eyes all the way to the back of her head.

“U-ugh more…” she begged, hand now on the back of your head, gripping it tightly.

Her hand didn’t do anything beside gripping it, allowing you the freedom to go at your own pace. At first it was slow, intimate… but it grew quicker as her grip tightened.

Your head bobbed up and down faster, saliva coating her member even further. Her grip around you tightened even further, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer. The pressure of her hands was a silent command, urging you to keep going. And you did.

Your mouth wrapped around her so beautifully she couldn’t stop staring. Her eyes eagerly followed yours, enjoying the sight of you. It didn’t help that your hands were gripping her hips so strongly, increasing the experience even more.

It didn’t take long for her to finally reach her climax, allowing her fluids to spill into your mouth. Your mouth felt so full that spit… and some of her cum was flowing out of the small gap between your mouth and her. Then, you pulled away, trying to save all the cum.

Without warning, you swallowed it all in, surprising her, but the look in her eyes told you everything, you had given her exactly what she needed, and she appreciated it more than words could express.

928 notes · View notes