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springwitch26 · 2 months

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flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti smut #wlw smut #4/20 friendly #stoner fic #fanfic

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Steve doesn’t notice the answering machine for several weeks.

His time is split between the hospital and donating food and clothes; and when he’s not doing that, he’s helping put up missing posters for people’s loved ones.

It’s only when both Max and Eddie are discharged that he has a moment to even catch his breath—when, half-dozing on his feet, waiting for a microwave ready meal to heat up, he notices the blinking red light in the hallway.

He feels like he’s still in a dream when he presses ‘play’, hears his mother’s voice. There’s people talking in the background, the echoing, constant chatter of a hotel lobby. She’s laughing at something someone must have said before the answering machine kicked in.

She sounds… happy.

“Steve? Steve?” The rustle of the receiver getting briefly pressed to her blouse, a muffled, “Just a minute, hon, he might still pick up.” Then, clearer: “No, you must be out. All right, Steve, it was just to let you know that we’ll be home a little sooner than we—yes, I’m telling him, what do you think I’m doing?”

Steve’s thoroughly grateful that he’s listening to a message, and no response is required—can only stand there, jaw slack, at just how light his mother’s voice is.

“A couple of work things fell through,” she continues with a breeziness that probably means several major ‘things’ went disastrously wrong, work related or otherwise. But it doesn’t sound like she cares all that much; if anything, she sounds excited.

“So I thought we could—well, I don’t know how late we’ll be, but if you’re not too hungry, we could just order some pizza, lazy dinner? Plain cheese for you, right?” The distant ring of a bell on a counter. “Steve, darling, I know we haven’t been—” She cuts herself off with a sigh that’s gone too quickly for Steve to parse.

He hasn’t ordered a plain cheese pizza since he was 12 years old. But she’s trying, he thinks. She’s trying.

“Oh, we’re just checking out. What? No, I thought you had that bag. Oh, well, just—sorry, Steve, see you tonight. Love y—”

The message ends.

In a daze, Steve replays it once, twice—it’s on the third re-listen that he hears the mechanical voice intone what date the message was left.

See you tonight.

He inhales sharply just as the microwave beeps, and then he’s out the door, leaving the food to congeal.

He knows the route they would have taken. Plays it backwards in his head as he drives. Can see them in his mind’s eye taking the exit that leads into Hawkins—his mom berating his dad for not using his turn signal.

He finds the road. Stops. Gets out and presses his hand to the tarmac. He can feel it under his palm, like a scar.

The gates spread, at the end.

There’s no proof, nothing he can point to and say there, that’s what happened to them. Not a trace.

But he knows.

He knows.

“Okay, what’s up?” Eddie asks him three days later.

It’s almost funny, how little things have changed. Steve keeps waiting for a knock at the door, a just kidding! There’s no harried phone calls from their work, so they must have taken extended leave or—he doesn’t know.

He’s never going to know.

“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “Just thinking if the kids want popcorn now or later.”

Eddie’s suspicion melts away with a snort; it’s too easy. “Stupid question—the answer is always now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Second cupboard on your left, Munson, knock yourself out.”

“What am I, the maid?” But Eddie’s already reaching for the popcorn, opening the microwave door with a clunk, and then there’s an abrupt silence.

Steve realises why a second too late. “Shit, I—sorry, lemme just—”

He picks up the plastic tray full of mouldy pasta and throws it in the trash—feels a prickle of shame as he does so.

It’s stupid that this is the thing that makes his breathing catch. So fucking—senseless.

“Steve,” Eddie says haltingly, like he somehow knows this isn’t just about being absent-minded.

“Don’t,” Steve says.

He knows that’s practically a signed confession already. But Eddie nods and even cleans the damn microwave without a word of complaint. Because the popcorn still needs to be done, and the kids are waiting, and they’re pretending, Steve thinks.

They’re all just pretending.

He loses himself in washing up, makes the water run hot and doesn’t wear gloves, lets his skin scald. They’d all ordered pizza, and Steve had hidden every slice he’d taken, torn them all up and stuffed them into a napkin.

He stops when he comes to a large plate with a floral trim.

Would she have picked this one? he wonders. The pizza would’ve looked pretty, served up on that.

And then, as quickly as that thought came, another takes its place. How dare she? How dare she think that a fucking lazy dinner would fix everything? Did she think he’d just forgive her, forgive them both, just like that?

But she never got the chance. He’ll never get the chance to—

A sharp, stabbing pain. Steve turns off the faucet automatically, sees that the plate has smashed in the sink. A shard of china in his palm.

Eddie’s voice echoes in the hallway. “Um, I called Wheeler? Uh, Nancy. She—she took them all home.”

“Cool,” Steve says, voice tight.

He knows that Eddie has entered the kitchen when he hears a shocked hiss. “Dude, what the fuck? You’re bleeding, wait there, just—”

It’s not a deep cut, Steve thinks numbly. He doesn’t know why Eddie is worried. But he lets him fuss, lets him gently pry the remnants of the plate away, lets him wrap a bandage tightly.

“Hey,” Eddie says. His voice is soft. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it, ‘kay?”

Steve can’t look at him. Clenches his jaw.

“We will, you hear me, Harrington? I promise.”

Steve shakes his head. “Can’t fix—” he gets out before his throat closes up, and when he glances back, Eddie’s eyes are wide and fearful.

“What?” he says sharply, and he looks almost nauseous, like he suspects he’s about to be told that the monsters are back, that they have never even left. “What the fuck do you mean? You’ve got to tell me, man, just—”

Steve makes an anguished noise that feels like it comes from somewhere in his chest, and Eddie freezes. He considers Steve for a long moment.

“Okay,” he says, a wary placation. “Can you… um. Can you show me instead?”

Steve blinks. He flexes his hand, uncaring of the cut, and jerks his head to the hallway.

Eddie stares. Frowns. Then leaves.

He figures it out, of course he does. Steve just stands there, hears the click of the answering machine. He closes his eyes.

This is all that’s left; these are his scraps. A sigh he’ll never understand. An aborted, “I love you.” It had never come easily to her, but it had left her freely then.

Why?

A hand on his shoulder. Steve opens his eyes.

Eddie looks stricken. “Steve,” he whispers, then stops like he doesn’t have the words.

Steve can’t blame him. Neither does he.

“I didn’t—I didn’t know,” Eddie says. “Steve, I didn’t—”

“They were coming home,” Steve says stupidly, feels a bit like he’s twelve years old. “They were—Eddie. They were gonna come home.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, and it leaves him all in one breath. “Oh, Steve. C’mere.”

Steve falls against him, muffles something that’s half a cry, half a scream against his shoulder—and mourns the loss of a conversation he will never have.

#steve and his parents #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington’s parents #steve and his mom #steve harrington’s mom #steddie

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milfjuulpod · 7 months

Text

I Bet On Losing Dogs

after realizing your feelings for Melissa, you stop putting yourself in the position to be hurt over and over again.

content warnings: angst, eventual comfort, mentions of alcohol

A/N: heyyyy…so this was more of a therapy session for me so ignore how sad it is lol

It was your first open house at Abbott Elementary when you realized the feelings you had for Melissa were more than friendly. Throughout your second year at the school, the redhead and you became closer than ever. The first year was cordial between the two of you, but upon seeing you return for another go at the underfunded school, Melissa’s view on you changed from just another newbie to someone who might mean something. You took advantage of that change, taking up on her offers to help you with planning or grading after school, listening to her few open moments about her personal life with all the attention you had. There was something about the older woman that drew you to her, a constant need to be in her presence. To learn from her, to make memories, to exist in her world. You chalked it up to being impressed, wanting to be mentored. Until she started acting friendly, giving you space to learn about who Melissa was, not just Ms. Schemmenti. She felt like a breath of fresh air and the strongest of drugs all rolled up with a red ribbon tying it together.

It was when you sat and watched Melissa play Jacob in poker it hit you. It wasn’t wanting to learn, or wanting to be friends, you wanted her. She sat smugly as she threw down her cards, beating Jacob after she had just lost to him. “So, we’re tied. Dealbreaker?” She asked her opponent. Upon his agreement, she started shuffling cards for the third time. Without looking up, she called to you. “Hey hon? Could you go grab my purse for me? I’m gonna need to put all this cash away after I win, again.” It was small, but for some reason, it awoke something deep inside. The pet name slipping from her mouth, the fact she knew that you knew where her belongings were, and the way she trusted you with it. It felt domestic and familiar, and you wanted more.

It was the wanting of more that killed you, knowing she would never feel the same. At first, it was easy to ignore the sadness that came with the euphoria of being around her, her attention was worth the pain. Shortly after that moment in the break room, your view on every interaction changed. Did she notice the way your cheeks flushed at the slightest touch? The way you held on to her every word? Now that you were aware of your feelings, they only grew stronger by each passing day. Which meant everything Melissa said or did, was taken a lot more seriously. You barely survived the day Gary first came into the break room, the way he looked at her and talked to her. Most importantly, the way she ate it up. She seemed to love this attention from a new person, taking all of it in. As if you didn’t do everything she asked, and even things she didn’t. It hurt, more than words could describe. But you couldn’t act out, of course not. So you swallowed the anxiety and sadness that washed over you every time he came in.

And yet, you always came back. The minute her attention was back to you, it was like nothing bad had ever happened, she made it all worth it. Every moment of melancholy, she could take it away, despite being the reason for it all. You knew that she was hurting you, even though she didn’t mean to. She would never do something on purpose to hurt you, which made all the pain even worse. She cared so deeply for you, just not the way you wanted. For whatever reason, you continued down this path. Romanticizing every interaction together, every time she called you hon or love, you told yourself maybe it meant just as much to her as it did to you. Until she didn’t give you what you wanted, and the vicious cycle continued.

The wake up call could not have come sooner. After a Friday spent practically alone, you had a breaking point. Melissa didn’t stop by your classroom at all that day, when usually she would check in multiple times with you. At lunch, she spent the whole time working, shooting you a text letting you know she wasn’t coming to the breakroom. You opted to stay in too. You were happy she was able to spend some time working, always admiring the dedication she had for this job. But after her unusual absence in the morning, it hurt a little more than usual.

When she left with a simple “See you later, kid,” you knew it was time to create some distance. For whatever reason, it felt like your heart was breaking (the reason was love, of course). You had become so used to Melissa’s constant attention that the moment you didn’t have it, it was like the world came crashing down. Maybe it would be easier if she knew how you felt, if you could just tell her everything that’s been going on inside your head the past few months. Except it wasn’t that simple. The fear that she wouldn’t return the immense feelings, or laugh, or stop talking to you all together, it was too much. And it stopped you from ever opening your mouth about it.

The pain had begun to override the love you felt, and you were tired of letting yourself go back to such a dark place. So after the boring Friday without much from Melissa, you decided to skip your weekly wine night with her. Every Saturday night, Melissa would cook for the two of you, and she would task you with picking a wine for the evening. You felt like a coward sending the text saying you couldn’t make it, but it was better than confronting your feelings. Her response made it even worse.

I understand hon, take it easy tonight. But I will miss you.

That cancellation was the first of many. Day after day, and week after week, you pulled back from Melissa. The two of you went from being inseparable to you avoiding her at all costs, even if it meant taking hours to respond to her texts.

It was stupid to think she wouldn’t notice. Sitting on the couch with a near empty bottle of wine, you felt your phone buzz.

You’re not coming tonight, are you?

You stared at the screen, Melissa’s name at the top, rereading her message over and over again.

Not tonight, I’m sorry.

You half expected her to respond with care, or maybe anger. But when an hour went by and she still hadn’t answered, you knew she was upset. What you didn’t expect, however, was a rather aggressive knock at the door. Standing up from the couch, you realized opening the second bottle of wine might not have been the best idea. Opening the door, there she was.

“What the hell is going on with you? What did I do?” Melissa asked as soon as she saw you, voice filled with so many emotions. You were surprised to see her so emotional.

“Hello to you too, Mel.” You teased, hoping to lighten the situation. It didn’t work.

“You don’t get a hello, and don’t call me that. You have been hurting my feelings repeatedly and I still don’t know what I did. Every day and night I think about the last time we hung out and what I could have done to make you hate me so much.” Somewhere in her speech, the redhead walked past you and was now pacing in your living room.

You felt awful. In the midst of distancing yourself for the sake of your own emotions, you completely disregarded hers.

“I don’t hate you, Melissa. I…I don’t know…”

“Yes you do. You don’t pull away for no reason. Is this the wine we were supposed to have tonight? You don’t do that for no reason either.” She gestured to the empty bottle on the table. Her voice was loud and angry, but you could read on her face how hurt and sad she was by all of this.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I had to pull away it’s-it’s too much. You’re too much. My feelings for you are too much and it’s suffocating and as much as I love spending time with you it hurts too much now. I can’t do it Melissa.”

“Can’t do what?” She asked, slowly stepping towards you. At the same time, your words that just left your mouth came back to your brain, and you felt sick. But you were in deep waters already with her, might as well sink.

“I can’t be around you knowing you look at me differently than how I look at you.” Melissa didn’t answer to that, so you continued. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, you’re so kind to me and sweet but at the same time the strongest person I know. I admire everything you do. I love you.”

“I love you too, but-”

“No, Melissa. I love you.”

You watched as the gears turned in her head, but quickly looked away. Tears began filling your eyes and despite not facing her, you were worried she would see. You felt arms wrap themselves around your torso and the scent of perfume engulfed you. For a single moment things were okay, until you remembered who it was. You tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let you, instead, she turned you around to face her. To your surprise, her eyes were watery as well.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She said so quietly you could barely hear, but her arms still held you so closely you were able to understand.

“I didn’t know how you would feel, I was terrified to lose you. So I just did it myself. I’m sorry. I was scared of what you would say.”

“I would say I love you too.” Melissa responded, louder this time, so you would absolutely hear her. You were silent, still unsure of what was happening. As if she could read your mind, she rolled her eyes and smirked. “Oh my god, just come here.” That was the last thing you heard before you felt soft lips on your own.

She kissed you like her life depended on it, and she tasted exactly how you imagined. Not wanting to push it, she pulled back. “You taste like wine,” she smiled. “I love you,” you replied. That made her laugh, and it was so lovely to hear that sound again. “We’ve established that. And we’ve established I love you too, hon. Y’know we could’ve avoided all of this had you just told me.”

“You could’ve told me too, Mel.” You giggled, feeling silly that this whole time, you could’ve been with her instead of avoiding her. “I thought you knew, you think I treat anyone else like I treat you?”

“What about Gary?” You nervously asked.

“What about him? He’s a flirt, and you were avoiding me. You are the only one I want that attention from.” She erased those negative thoughts from your head immediately.

“Good, I know it’s late but, can we still have dinner?”

“Of course, I would love to. But I think you’ve had enough wine for the night.” She smirked, and pulled you with her into your kitchen to start cooking.

#abbott elementary fics #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #wlw #reader fic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti

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azzibuckets · 23 days

Note

This is sort of a long and specific request but I just have this idea of an ansty fic idea for pazzi or reader.

azzi gets her wisdom teeth out and she’s like all loopy and when paige takes her home, they are all cuddled up. Azzi talks about the love of her life in third person and paige doesn’t realize it’s her until she does… but basically she’s like heartbroken until then.

loopy in love [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: i know i said i was taking a break from pazzi fics but god bless anon for giving me the best prompt i’ve ever read

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

“Make sure she takes acetaminophen or ibuprofen if she feels any pain,” the nurse instructed. “She can also sleep with an extra pillow tonight to support her neck and help circulate blood flow.”

“Alright, thank you. I’ll keep all that in mind,” Paige said gratefully. She looked over at Azzi, who was slumped in the chair. Her eyes were dazed and her cheeks swollen with numbing from anesthesia, but Paige’s heart warmed. Azzi had never looked cuter, she thought.

“I understand you guys are basketball players?” The nurse looked up from her clipboard of sheets with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. How long is she out for?”

“No strenuous activities for at least three days, and definitely no cardio for five. We don’t want any rebound swelling or bleeding,” the nurse explained. “Other than that, you just need to sign her release form, and then you guys are good to go.”

Paige nodded, accepting the paper the nurse handed her and starting to work her way down the page. The nurse walked over to Azzi. “Make sure to keep biting on the gauze, okay hon? Your girlfriend can help you replace it with a fresh one every 20 minutes.”

Paige’s head snapped up from reading the fine print. “Oh, uh, we’re not dating.”

The nurse looked taken aback. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I just assumed…” she stared uncomfortably between the two of them. Paige flushed, knowing that the way they’d entered the office a few hours earlier hadn’t exactly looked very friendly. Paige’s hands had been wrapped around Azzi’s waist as she’d whispered reassurances in her ear.

“No, it’s okay.” Paige scratched the back of neck. “We kinda get that a lot.”

The nurse nodded awkwardly before hurriedly making an excuse to leave the room. Azzi wrinkled her nose, eyes following her out. “Did she think I had a girlfriend?” she slurred.

“She thought we were dating,” Paige breathed out a laugh as she signed the form.

“Ew!” Azzi gagged on her saliva. “I’m sorry, but we could never be together.”

“Geez,” Paige muttered, trying not to let the younger girl’s words sting too much. “I didn’t think I was that that revolting.” Paige turned the form into the receptionist before helping Azzi out of her chair. “Up we go,” she said softly. Azzi stumbled, but tightened her grip on the blonde’s arm to keep steady.

In the car, Azzi stared moodily out the window. Paige chuckled; she’d expected for the anesthesia to make Azzi more quiet and subdued, even though a part of her had wanted a loopy and crazy Azzi to laugh at. “You okay?” she asked.

Azzi started sniffling, and that’s when big tears started rolling down her cheeks.

“Woah.” Paige almost braked the car. “Hey, Az, what’s up?”

“I miss her!” Azzi cried out, folding her arms like a grumpy toddler. “Everything hurts and I can’t feel my tongue and there’s blood and I just want her.”

Paige’s heart sunk. She knew she should be supporting Azzi right now, who was so out of it from the drugs, but she couldn’t help but welcome back the burn of jealousy she’d gotten so familiar with the past few years. Pining over your best friend in secret was not an easy thing, but it was something Paige had become awfully good at.

“Miss who, babe?” Paige asked gently. “I can call whoever you need.”

Azzi dramatically threw her head in her hands. “Nooooo!” she wailed. “You can’t. Or else she’ll know.”

Paige bit her lip. “Know what?”

“That I’m in love with her!”

Paige sucked in a breath. Lately Azzi had been acting distant, coming back to their apartment late at night and making excuses for missing their movie nights. Paige had had a creeping suspicion that Azzi was talking to someone new, had been spending her hours with a new girl or guy she’d met. She’d tried to respect it - she knew Azzi would come to her and tell her if the relationship ever evolved into something serious. She always did. And now here Azzi was, confessing in her stupefied state.

“You’re in love with someone?”

Azzi leaned her head gloomily against the window. “You don’t understand, Paige.”

Paige hesitated. “I understand. I’ve been in love before.”

“No,” Azzi insisted. “You don’t. You don’t understand.”

Paige laid her hand over Azzi’s in an attempt to pacify her. “It’s okay, Az,” she soothed. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. Let’s just get you home first, yeah?”

Azzi snatched her hand away. “Of course you don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, shifting in her seat to move further from Paige.

Once they reached their apartment, Azzi seemed to be in a slightly better mood. “I’m hungry!” she exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind them, immediately making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Uh uh,” Paige denied, running so she could stand between Azzi and the cabinets. “You’re not allowed to eat anything for a few hours.”

Azzi pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. “Pleaseeeeeee?” she whined.

Paige stifled a laugh at how adorable the younger girl was being. “I’m sorry, but no,” she said firmly.

“Ugh!” Azzi aggressively brushed past Paige, knocking her shoulder as she stormed out of the kitchen. “You hate me.”

“Quite the opposite.” Paige followed Azzi as she flopped angrily down on the armchair. “Stay here, alright? Imma go get some pillows and blankets for you and we can watch a movie?”

Azzi didn’t respond, staring grumpily at the dark TV. Paige rushed to gather the softest and biggest blankets she could find. She cursed at herself for not setting up the couch earlier. Now Azzi had to sit there waiting for her. Once she got everything, she threw it on the couch and tried to make it the most comfortable, padded blanket and pillow ridden couch in the history of all couches. “Come on Azzi,” she encouraged in a sing song voice. “Sit on the couch. It’s super comfy.” She patted the couch.

“Will she be there?” Azzi asked hopefully.

“Be where?” Paige’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“On the couch. With me.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, trying to hold in her exasperation but failing mightily. “Are you talking about that girl again?”

“Yes,” Azzi breathed out dreamily. “I think she’s it. She’s the one for me. I can’t stop thinking about her. Even before the surgery she was the last thing on my mind.”

Azzi sounded way too detailed right now to be talking randomly from being hopped up on drugs, which finally confirmed Paige’s suspicions. There had to be an actual girl that Azzi was talking about. She made a note to ask about it later, when the anesthesia wore off. Azzi had never spoken about anyone like this before, so this girl must be a big deal. A hot shot, Paige thought moodily to herself. But she’d support Azzi, like she always did whenever she started something new with someone. Don’t let her know, Paige reminded herself.

“So? Did you call her?” When Paige didn’t respond, too lost in her thoughts, Azzi’s bottom lip started to tremble. “You said you would!” Paige rushed to her, rubbing her back in the way she knew the dark haired girl liked.

“I don’t have her number, Az,” she said gently. “I’m sure we can get her to come over later, though.”

“She’s so pretty and she’s so kind,” Azzi said, now sobbing again. “I just want her here. Everything is always better when I’m with her.” She leaned into Paige’s embrace.

“Come on, Az, let’s sit on the couch, alright? Let’s put on a movie and you can try to sleep the anesthesia off,” Paige prodded. At last, Azzi got up from the armchair and sat reluctantly on the couch. Paige grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around the younger girl. She made sure to stuff extra pillows under Azzi’s neck. “Comfy?”

Azzi nodded. Her tears weren’t flowing as heavily anymore, which Paige took as a good sign. “What do you wanna watch?”

Azzi perked up. “Cinderella.”

“Cinderella? When did you get into Disney?” Paige laughed, but she put it on.

Azzi nestled into Paige’s chest. “Cinderella looks like her,” she sighed happily. “Which is why I like it.”

Paige’s heart started beating rapidly. “What does she look like?” she asked slowly.

“She’s blonde. Has the bluest eyes ever,” Azzi murmured. “And she’s sooo good at basketball. You would love her.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek. Was this really happening? There was no way this girl Azzi was speaking of was her. She felt excitement rush through her, but she tried to tamp it down. She wasn’t the only blonde, blue-eyed basketball player in the world. Feeling slightly guilty that she was interrogating her best friend in this state, she asked, “What’s her name, Azzi?”

Azzi inserted her leg between Paige’s so that their bodies were now intertwined. “Why does it matter?” she muttered, her words muffled by Paige’s shirt.

Paige softly traced the parts in Azzi’s hair with her finger. “I’m just curious, babe.”

Azzi yawned, sleepiness taking over her. “I can tell you later. If you want. Maybe.”

“Oh, we are so talking about this later,” Paige said under her breath. But for now, she continued playing with Azzi’s hair as Cinderella played in the background, lulling the girl to sleep.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #uconnwbb #pazzi #wbb #wcbb #friends to lovers

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thebearchives · 1 year

Text

paper-thin walls | m.s.

PAIR. neighbour!mick schumacher x single mother!reader

SUMM. noisy neighbours was the last thing mick was expecting after the long f1 season. he's tired, he's stressed, and believe it or not, he's ready to give his neighbour a piece of his damn mind.

WC. 5.6k

NOTES. first fic of 2023, everyone cheer!! i'm trying out new styles of writing, so please lmk how you found this fic.

WARNINGS include excessive use of the word 'fuck' (i'm sorry), and...shirtless mick? as always, don't be a ghost reader!

rest and relaxation, mick. that’s what toto had told him before he waved him off at the airport. we need you in prime shape for the next season.

mick tossed in his bed, migraine prickling the back of his head as another screech came from the wall beside him.

look like you haven’t slept in months, mate. george had thrown an arm over his shoulder, cheeky smile playing on his lips as he brought a finger up to poke the obvious bags under mick’s eye. look alive, mick. it’s only gonna get worse from here.

it wasn’t official yet, but soon, news would drop about lewis’ retirement and mick’s subsequent promotion to the empty mercedes seat. he supposed that george was right. the season had only just ended and yet already, his shared calendar was filling up faster and faster with events, testing sessions, and appearances for the new season.

i’ll tell you this now. get all the sleep you can get this break. lewis rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck side-to-side. the now eighth-time champion yawned loudly, muttering about how he was glad to be escaping the early mornings of simulator practice that happened closer to the start and end of the off season.

mick couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. it was strange, really, how quickly the idea of sleep had turned from attainable to something as out-of-reach as his seat on the grid had been the year prior. except, only his fight for his seat came with much less crying and screaming from his next door neighbour.

now listen, mick didn’t hate kids, alright. in fact, his older sister had brought a wonderful little boy into the world some years ago, and mick didn’t like to brag, but he was certain he was his nephew’s favourite uncle;

( “you’re also his only uncle, mick.” gina rolled her eyes as she watched mick toss her son up in the air.

mick waved her off, laughing along with his nephew. “i’m still his favourite, aren’t i, jonah?”

he had directed the second half of his sentence to the boy in his arms who, when addressed, nodded rapidly and smiled at his mom with his crooked teeth.

“yeah, mama! uncle mickie is the best uncle in the whoooooole world!” )

so, yeah, it was fair to say mick liked kids. but when that kid is crying her little lungs out at 2:53 in the morning for the third night in a row? yeah, that’s when he draws a line.

a beat passed before another set of pitiful whines reverberated from the wall. mick pulled the pillow out from under him, and stuffed it over his head instead, hoping to drown out the sounds.

his first order of business as a mercedes amg driver? move the fuck out.

your eyes were red, beady with unshed tears as the figurative hammers slammed against your head.

amelia was sick— had been for the past three days now. you had been trying to soothe her cries for the past hour, but to no avail. your heart broke to see your little angel’s face contort in pain as her whole body ached.

it’s a simple cold. your pediatrician had told you such with a small smile. she was holding on to a red lollipop that she reached over and handed to amelia. the two-year-old had reluctantly reached out and grabbed it before rushing back against your side. her forehead was burning up as you pushed her bangs away from her face, face visibly worried. it’s viral, hon. the seasons are changing. nothing to worry about.

you had a sneaking suspicion that the lady from the fourth floor with the hacking cough had been the one to infect your little girl. if only the elevator doors had closed on her that day.

( you pressed the ‘door close’ button repeatedly, willing it to close before anne from the fourth floor would reach the elevator.

amelia giggled with each press of the button. “i wanna try! i wanna try! mommy, please can i try?” she had stood on her tippy-toes, teetering over and grabbing onto your dress as support.

you smiled, hand leaving the button to instead ruffle her hair. “it’s all yours, little lady. have at it.”

amelia reached over and pushed her finger against the ‘door open’ button. you held in a groan as the door jerked in the opposite direction. you tutted lightly, pushing amelia’s finger to the next button over. “wrong button, baby.”

amelia ‘ohh’ed, finger pushing against the button one again, but it was too late.

you watched as anne rushed to the elevator door with a rejuvenated fervor, wanting so badly for the doors to close right before she got on. you prayed to schindler elevators that the doors would close on her.

schindler elevators inc. was unfortunately not a god, and thus, anne got on.

“good afternoon, dear.” anne sniffled out, turning to look at the little girl in front of you. “thank you for waiting, dearie.”

amelia smiled, “you’re welcome! what floor?”

anne coughed loudly. you tried to hide your grimace. “fourth, please.”

the doors finally closed and amelia tugged on your dress once again. you smiled at her hopeless face, reaching up to press the fourth floor button.

anne had coughed and sneezed a few more times before she nasally said goodbye and got off on her floor. )

anne was a sweet lady, you wouldn’t deny it. but at this moment in time, you couldn’t help but curse her with all the malicious intent you could muster. you were tired. amelia was tired. and yet, nothing you were doing seemed to lull the girl into a state of slumber.

faintly, you could feel the guilt creeping up on you. the walls of your apartment complex were thin— you’d learned that the hard way. you were aware of how amelia’s cries were probably making their way into your neighbour’ houses and into the hallway, but quite frankly, you couldn’t even pretend to give a shit while you pulled amelia into your arms and took her on a little walk around your apartment.

her loud cries slowly turned into sniffles and low whines as you rocked her around your house, showing her all the framed pictures hung around your house. one of her hands found its way to your hair, twirling some strands while the other stayed nestled between your bodies. your shirts had come off long ago— skin-to-skin was always a great comfort for amelia, and you could tell that the material of her sleeves and your t-shirt was overstimulating her greatly.

even dressed in just a diaper, amelia’s arm, and subsequently, the rest of her body, was burning up from the fever she was running. you had a feeling that the medicine you had given her before her scheduled bedtime was wearing off, but amelia had refused to drink her milk and you were reluctant to give her another dose on an empty stomach.

you hated to rouse her once she had finally quieted down but after being a mother for two years, you quickly learned that too much empathy could lead to your downfall. amelia needed to take her medicine now so that she wouldn’t have another meltdown in an hour’s time, and if that came at the expense of her crying just a bit more, it’d have to do.

you hesitantly pulled amelia away from your skin, hushing her lightly as she started to resist and whine. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, baby. i know it hurts.”

you made your way to the kitchen. you talked amelia through every step, hoping to keep her distracted long enough to pull out an applesauce cup from the pantry. “we’re gonna eat some food and then give you your medicine so your body stops hurting. okay, baby?”

amelia shivered lightly as your hand grazed over her stomach. she watched with wet eyes as you grabbed a spoon and attempted to open the cup— it was quite hard, doing everything with one hand.

“can mommy put you down?” you stopped and looked down at amelia, who frowned before slowly shaking her head and leaning into your chest again. “you wanna sit in my lap?” amelia nodded, a shuddered breath escaping her as she let herself calm down.

you worked quickly, sitting down with a tired baby in your lap and peeling open the cup. you fed amelia with slow bites, hoping she kept her food down this time. after she finished about half the cup, she started to fuss, pushing her face into your arm to avoid eating anymore. you were too tired to care about the fact that she had rubbed applesauce all over your bare arm.

you decided against giving her the next dose of medicine until she stopped being fussy— if there was anything amelia had seemed to hate more than being sick, it was taking her medicine. the one she had been prescribed was grape flavoured, and it was by far the worst flavour of medicine you had the disgrace of stumbling across. you pitied your daughter. truly, you did, but you wanted her to get better, and if this grape-flavoured syrup was the only way to nurse her back to health, you’d do whatever it takes to get her to drink it.

amelia was now sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket as her clammy skin made her feel cold. she watched you with narrowed eyes as you manoeuvred around the kitchen to find her medicine and her sippy cup filled with water. although you had tried your hardest to hide the bottle from her, amelia recognized the purple bottle instantly, shaking her head furiously and whining out a no, mommy.

you sighed, not wanting to experience the third meltdown of the night. half heartedly, you wished for her to just stop crying and go to sleep, entirely too exhausted by caring for a sick child while running on a combined two hours of sleep.

you couldn’t help but mentally scold yourself; god, you were such a bad mother. here your daughter was— sick and in need of your comfort— and instead of comforting her, you’re frustrated with her tears and couldn’t stand to hear another cry. you were just so tired. yet, you had no right to complain— you knew being a single mother would have been hard, but you still went through with it.

you took a deep breath in, trying to stop yourself from spiralling.

you carried amelia in your womb for nine months alone. you had gave birth alone. you had spent the last three years raising amelia on your own, and god damn it, a sickness would not make you question your worth as a mother. not over your dead body.

“alright, mimi.” you crouched in front of where amelia had been sitting, a weak smile on your face to try and coax her into drinking her medicine. “you’ve gotta drink your medicine if you want to feel better, okay?— no, don’t give me that look. mommy doesn’t want to give you this either, but you have to drink it or else you’ll continue hurting all night.”

the young girl sniffled, eyes already watering again. “but it’s yucky!”

you placed the sippy cup on the ground beside you, reaching up to caress her cheek lightly. “it is, but it helps you feel less icky and achy, okay?”

amelia stared at the bottle in your hand, a frown clear on her face. you wished she hadn’t taken up your stubbornness.

“we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, amelia.” you gave her a slightly stern look.

amelia shook her head before pushing it back and into the cushion of the couch.

hard way, it is.

you leave me no choice, amelia. you placed the plastic feeding syringe filled with 5 mL of the purple medicine, and reached out to hold onto amelia. you sat down in her spot, holding the girl down by her arms as she started to yell and flail her limbs. after she realized her arms were being held, she began to kick her feet, trying to roll out of your arms.

your grip didn’t loosen, leaning forward to grab the syringe once again. you held the syringe near her mouth, and amelia immediately started to scream louder, yells turning into sobs. again, very faintly, you worried about the noise and your neighbours, but you pushed forward.

you placed the syringe against the inside of her cheek, releasing some of the medicine. amelia stopped crying for a slight second to swallow before going back to her loud cries. the migraine from earlier returned as you repeated your actions twice more before tossing the empty syringe to the table and pulling the girl up in your lap.

amelia gagged loudly, and you couldn’t stop the loud no, no, no! no throwing up from escaping your lips. you grabbed her sippy cup before helping her wash down the medicine. god, children were so dramatic.

amelia, whose hands were now free, pushed the sippy cup away after a few sips. her lips were downturned into a big pout, and her eyes were glassy. her breath shuddered, still recovering from her outburst from seconds ago. you cooed gently, pushing her hair away from her forehead and eyes.

“see, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” you imagined that if she knew how, amelia would respond to you with a death glare.

you pulled the girl closer to you, hand on her hair, smoothing it down as she placed her wet cheek against your sternum. you whispered quiet compliments to your baby as she started to calm down, hand coming back up to grab your hair and tangle her fingers into it.

it was quiet— no sounds aside from your whispers of i love you’s and amelia’s heavy breathing (her nose had stuffed up not too long ago). it had stayed quiet for maybe twenty seconds, until the silence was broken by a rather aggressive knock on your door.

amelia startled, and your heart dropped. fuck.

mick wasn’t sure when he finally dozed off. the little girl from the other side of his wall had finally quieted down, and he could faintly hear another woman’s voice coaxing her to calm down.

when he came to again, it had of course been due to another meltdown from the girl. he’d startled awake, pillow falling from his face and onto the floor beside him. his heart rate was erratic, and it took him a few seconds to get a bearing of his surroundings. when the next cry resonated through his room, he couldn’t help the loud groan from escaping past his lips.

mick sat up in his bed, suddenly feeling a strong wave of rage crash over him. it was late, and he was tired. it was past 3 am now, and mick schumacher had had enough.

the last few days had been stressful, to say the least. mick was going to be an official driver on the grid next season, for mercedes, and as excited as he was, he was also nervous— extremely nervous. yes, it was off season, but everyone knew that off season meant preparing for the next season. there really weren’t any “days off” in formula one, not really— if it wasn’t driving, it was sim work, and if it wasn’t the sim, it was working out to keep those muscles in shape.

frankly, mick had mentally exhausted himself by worrying for his next season in formula one, and with the lack of sleep, the man was nearing insanity.

he could feel the frustration, the exhaustion, and all his anxieties start to build up; start to consume him. he let them consume him.

as if on autopilot, mick got out of his bed, walking out of his bedroom and directly towards his front door. another loud cry came from across the wall, this one louder from all the rest.

if mick had been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have opened the door and rapped his knuckles against his neighbour’s door rather aggressively. but alas, mick had finally exploded, and who better to release his frustrations on than his next-door neighbours who couldn’t shut the fuck up at 3 am on a wednesday night.

the second he registered his hand on the painted black door, he paled. fuck. mick felt like he was slapped in the face— what the fuck was he thinking? what the fuck could he possibly do? yell at whoever opened the door? tell them to shut their baby up? fuck. fuck.

mick held his breath, pulling his hand back. should i run for it? his eyes flitted from the door in front of him to his own. a beat passed, the door didn’t open, but he could still hear whining and muffled murmurs. it was louder now that he was out in the hallway— his walls had been thin, but perhaps the ones that lined the sides of the hallway were thinner. maybe they didn’t hear me.

before he could decide between standing his (now, remorseful) ground, or turn tail and hurry back home and sleep with his shitty “noise-cancelling” headphones on, the door opened. his head jerked up at the sound, eyes raking over your figure as he worked up the nerve to look you in the eyes.

you were a sight to behold, dressed in a plain black sports bra and loose, plaid pajama pants that coincidentally mirrored the colours of mercedes. the quick ponytail you had thrown your hair into some hours prior was now a ghost of what it should have been— most of your hair slipping out and splaying over your shoulders. the tangled ends could only have been caused by the young girl held in your arms. she was covered up more than you were, but from where the blanket fell off her shoulder and exposed her arm, mick could tell she was just as bare, if not more. (skin-to-skin, he’d realize some hours later as he laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling, this time wide awake on his own accord.)

your eyes, mick quickly learned, told stories clearer than even the most renowned storytellers. they were droopy and bloodshot with the lack of sleep. mick could read the exhaustion through them from miles away. aside from that, they were also bleary— as if you were seconds away from bursting into tears yourself. the girl in your arms sniffled, dragging his attention away once more as he scanned his eyes over her rosy red cheeks and irritated nose. oh.

a rogue wave of guilt crashed over mick, almost drowning him in the process. in his blind rage, mick hadn’t even considered what could have possibly led the girl in your arms to cry. it seems that the lack of sleep had killed his brain cells— rid him of all common sense and critical thinking. she was sick.

the air was rather quiet around you three— aside from the little girl’s sniffling and heavy breaths, silence filled the air. mick mulled over what he should say.

the girl in your arms shivered and you shifted her closer. another second of silence passed and you decided to take the reins of the conversation. “hi, are you here about the noise?”

mick could do nothing but nod, still feeling regretful for having knocked in the first place. his lips turned upwards into a sheepish smile, hand ruffling his already messy hair.

“listen, i’m really sorry. my daughter hasn’t been feeling the best for the past few nights, and i went around to let the rest of the hall know…” you trailed off, cocking your eyebrow as you asked him a question. “i don’t think i saw you around?”

mick stuttered. “uh, yup. yeah. sorry, i was out of town for the past few weeks and only just got back,” he gestured to the door to the right of your own. “ i live next door.”

you winced. “ah, that means you’re on the opposite side of my bedroom. i’m sorry, really. amelia rarely gets sick but when she does, she’s quite the force to be reckoned with…the noise should go down now, hopefully. her medicine wore off, and she’s just gotten a new dose. let’s both hope she sleeps like a baby, yeah?”

the light chuckle that escaped your lips made mick’s heart warm. the sheepish smile turned into a shy one. “yeah, of course. i’ll let you guys go to bed, then,” he gestured his head to amelia, who had somewhat fallen asleep against your shoulder, a line of drool dripping from her open mouth. “sorry for bothering you guys this late at night.”

you lightly shook your head. “i should be saying that to you. i’ll try my very hardest to make sure you’re able to catch up on sleep now!”

mick smiled and wished you a good night, turning back towards his door. you slowly let the door shut, the whirring and clicking noise signifying that it had automatically locked.

mick yawned as he reached his door. his hand fumbled to find the doorknob, eyes bleary with sleep. he pushed the doorknob down. it didn’t move. huh?

he tried again, and again, and one more time. each time the doorknob didn’t budge. mick became frantic, and for the second time in the past five minutes, he found himself thinking— fuck.

mick had boasted about the new upgrades for his apartment building for months to anyone who listened. how could he have possibly forgotten that his front door automatically locked? that he could only get in if he had his keys or if someone was inside? (“well, what if you get locked out? what then?” “don’t be stupid, gina. i’m not an idiot, i’d never do such a thing.”)

who’s the idiot now? mick groaned, hands pulling at his hair as he crouched down. he felt like crying. he was so fucking tired. now that it was finally quiet, now that amelia had finally stopped crying, mick was locked out of his house with no way back in. what a fucking night.

mick stared at the tiled floor under him, gnawing on his lip as he thought of his options. it was 4 in the morning, not a single person would be awake and working at the front desk. he couldn’t call anybody— his phone was inside, plugged into the wall to charge after two days of use. even if he had it on him, the only people who had copies of the key were his mom, his sister, and hank, the man who worked the front desk— no one that would be awake, nor close enough to come up and unlock his door for him.

his eyes flickered back to your front door, shaking his head before the thought could even fully form. he was not going to bother you again, especially not now. mick leaned his head back against his locked door, accepting his fate and slouching onto the tile. the metal of the door was cool against his bare skin causing a shiver to run down his spine.

time was going by extremely slow, or at least it felt like it was for mick. his knees were now up to his chest, trying to find some reprieve from the cold air that breezed through the hallway’s air conditioning. he wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting like that, or when his eyes had finally shut until he was roused by the sound of your door opening. he raised his head, making eye contact with you for the second time that night. you looked mostly the same as before— tired eyes and unruly hair— the only difference now was that you had traded your sports bra in for a white shirt and a cardigan.

you cocked your head lightly. “oh? what are you doing out here?”

your voice was quiet, soft. mick felt his cheeks heat up, the embarrassment returning.

his smile was sheepish. “i forgot my keys.”

your expression shifted, a round ‘oh’ shape forming on your lips as you nodded. before you could respond however, your eyes widened and you immediately stepped back into your apartment, leaving mick all alone in the hallway. again. mick blinked, unable to comprehend what just happened.

you returned back outside with a soundtrack of quiet jingling. you brandished the keys in your hand to the boy sitting in front of his door. “almost just made the same mistake.”

mick nodded, an airy laugh escaping his lips. “i don’t suppose amelia knows how to open doors yet?”

you shook your head, “with those new child-safe knob covers? god, i hope not.”

the air became quiet, neither of you speaking many words. mick found himself wishing the silence would swallow him whole. he caved.

“so what—”

“would yo—”

mick flinched, instantly backtracking. “sorry, you go first.”

“no, no. it’s okay, you can go first.”

“no, really. it’s okay, it wasn’t very important, anyway.” mick pushed himself off of the ground, now coming up to stand against his door instead. “please, say whatever you wanted to.”

you pursed your lips, staring at his figure before sighing. “alright,” you nodded, “i was just going to offer if you’d like to crash on my sofa? it’s awfully cold out here, and you’re…”

mick glanced down at his bare chest at your gesture, cheeks flaming hot enough to drown out the cold breeze of the air conditioner. he crossed his arms, trying to cover up his chest, though you had already seen everything he had on show.

he shook his head, adamant on not inconveniencing you further. “no, that’s alright. i’m here because of my forgetfulness, i can deal with it.”

you couldn’t help but copy his movement. “your forgetfulness came from the fact that amelia, and by extension, myself, kept you up most of the night because of how loud we were. if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

mick went to argue but you cut him off. “really, it all comes back to me, so let me help you.”

the german boy was silent, mulling over his options in his head.

“it’s a pull-out.”

his eyes met yours again. “you’re sure?”

“yes, of course.” you nodded excessively. “i was just about to go down to the laundry room–” mick’s brows furrowed, and it was your turn to smile sheepishly now. “— i forgot to grab the last load of laundry earlier because of how cranky ‘melia was being. if you don’t mind waiting for another 5 minutes, i can quickly go grab the load and let you settle in for the night?”

mick nodded, hand coming up to scratch at the base of his neck. “no, of course. take your time. i’ll be here…s’not like i’d be able to go anywhere, anyway.”

you smiled at his words, eyes brighter than they had been the first time you two spoke. “great!”

you pulled the cardigan closer to your chest, walking down the hallway as fast as you could without bursting into a full sprint. had you really just done that? had you really just invited a stranger you had briefly acquainted with not mere minutes ago to spend the night in your apartment? yes.

you pushed the down button on the elevator. and then again, willing it to get to your floor faster. fuck, your mind was going crazy with the what ifs.

what if he was a creep? you haven’t seen him around since before tonight. ‘out of town’ he says. for what? what if he was a serial killer? that would make sense. he’d fled the town to not look suspicious, and now he’s back for his next victims. yes, that was it. (in the future, mick would listen to your retellings of this story with a look of disbelief. “you thought i was going to kill you!?” “of course, i did! i didn’t know you!” “you offered that i stay the night!” “well, i don’t always make good decisions now, do i?”)

the elevator ride was rather short, and uneventful— no anne from the fourth floor to pull you from your thoughts with a hacking cough. you chewed on your lips as you mulled over the man you had left upstairs.

the laundry room was quiet and dark. of course, it was expected for four in the morning— not everyone was as disorganized as you were. you rushed your way around the familiar room, grabbing the basket you had left behind and unloading your dryer. you had to work quickly to get back before amelia realized the warmth next to her was simply your heated blanket and not you. you also had to get back to him.

by the final fitted sheet pulled from the dryer, you had made up your mind. there was just no way that your next-door neighbour. he seemed nice— too nice, a voice rang in your head. you shook your head, ridding yourself of the negative thoughts. everything will be just fine.

he was right where you left him— albeit, now returned to his slumped over position against his door. your footsteps were quiet, yet still managed to rouse him back to reality.

you sent him a sheepish smile. “i didn’t take too long, did i?”

“not at all.” he shook his head. “you’re fine.”

a hum escaped your mouth followed by the nod of your head. you reached into your cardigan’s pocket to pull out the keys, unlocking the door quietly and pushing it in with your hip. you held the door open and gestured for him to come in.

his hesitance was obvious and in your head, you cheered. definitely not a serial killer.

“an open door usually means you can enter, you know?” you gave him a soft smile. he returned it, though it looked slightly more like a grimace.

“are…” he started, arms crossing over once again, feeling bare under your gaze. “are you sure? really, it’s no problem for me to stay the night out here. hank will probably be in the office in another hour or two. ‘s not a problem, i’ll just wait for him to get here and i’ll get into my apartment. plus, amelia’s only just fallen asleep, and i’d hate to m—”

“oh, will you just get in here already?” you couldn’t help but reach out, lightly grabbing his arm before tugging him in. you guided the door shut with your foot, making sure it wasn’t too loud before turning around to look at the man in front of you.

his eyes were wide, flickering from your face to your hand, which was still wrapped around his arm. you followed his gaze, your own eyes widening as you quickly dropped your hand. your hand felt like it was on fire— his arm was cold, icy from the air conditioning, and a stark contrast from your warm ones. it felt like you’d given yourself an ice burn.

you cleared your throat, yet stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

the man across from you was in a similar boat, cheeks dusting a light pink as he focused on the heat emanating from where your hand once was.

“i’ll show you to the couch, if you’d like?” your voice tilted up at the end of the sentence. “i have a feeling our layout is the same, so the bathroom should be in the same spot, if you need it.”

he followed behind you with a quiet murmur agreeing about how similar your floor plans were.

your eyes widened as you entered the living room,.empty syringes and dirty tiny baby dishes were strewn across the coffee table. you placed your laundry basket to the side, hastily picking up your earlier mess with an apology.

the shake of your neighbour’s head went unnoticed by you as you rushed into the kitchen and back out. it wasn’t until you had presented him with the pull out that he spoke again.

“you know,” his voice was rather quiet, conscious of the baby sleeping just a little ways away. “you really should not let strangers into your home.”

for a second, you nearly felt your heart stop— this was it. he really is a serial killer— until you caught his expression, once again riddled with guilt as if he was overstepping. as if you hadn’t invited him in.

“you’re not really a stranger though, are you?” at the cock of his head, you continued. “you’re my neighbour who i’ve inconvenienced all night.”

“you don’t even know my name.”

you nodded. “alright, i’ll bite. you bring up a good point. so what is it then? your name?”

“...mick.” he had a slight smile playing on his lips.

“well, mick.” you gave him a small smile, initiating a handshake. “my name’s y/n. now, we’re neither strangers, nor neighbours with no names.”

mick couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his lips, hand warm in your hold. “i suppose you’re right, then.”

you quickly left to grab the man— mick— a few pillows and a comforter from your closet. “i’m the door at the end of the hallway. if you need anything, you can knock on that door and let me know.”

mick nodded. “of course. thank you again, really.”

“not a problem.” you smiled, already making your way out of the living room.“i’ll see you in the morning, then.”

as you walked out the room, you couldn’t help but turn once more, eyeing the blond-haired man who somehow didn't look so out of place as he messed with the teddy bear that you’d forgotten to pick up from the couch. you smiled.

“goodnight, mick.”

“sweet dreams, y/n.”

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swe3tte4rs · 6 months

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" An unexpected meeting of a mother and son " - Batmom!Oc and Jason Todd/Red Hood

Summary : Dahlia (Oc) tries to forget about her second little baby and his death after the arrival of her third sweet son. But she didn't know that she would have a very nostalgic visit.

Author note: Hello!! Before you read this and find any spelling mistakes, tell me in a comment 🙏, my main language is not English 😓. Also, this is my first "Oneshot" (I think it's a Oneshot, but I don't know), so I didn't know whether to put Batmom as Y/N or as some OC, so I decided on the OC 💪. (This Batfamily is a mix of comics, Webtoon, series, movies and headcanons… so… you know, not everything will follow the canon 😇)

TW: angst????

"Oh... God... my sweet boy... my little angel... Please don't him..." The woman murmured between sobs as she leaned against her husband's strong body.

"I'm sorry, Dahlia..." Bruce apologized in a murmur as he wrapped his arms around his wife. He felt the same as his wife, although much more frustration and disappointment in himself for not being able to arrive in time to save his son.

On the other hand, her eldest son, Dick, also had tears in his eyes and felt desperate because he couldn't do anything to make his mother stop crying. He approached her mother and hugged her. strongly.

Dahlia had just received the devastating news that her sweet second baby had been brutally murdered. She felt a void in her heart, one where she was filled with the love of Jason, her sweet angel. Dahlia couldn't even feel anger or the feeling of wanting to kill whoever was guilty of the murder, she was too busy drowning in her own misery and pain, deep ones that won't heal for a long time.

Some time has passed since the devastating death in the Wayne family. But, another little one had joined the family as the new and third Robin.

Tim was a child genius, with amazing detective skills. He was also a very loving and cute son to his new mother.

Dahlia with the new arrival of Tim Drake as her third child, she did what she could to forget about Jason and fill that void in her heart with Tim's love.

Dahlia loved Tim as she loved her two other children. She made sure Tim felt loved and protected by a mother, doing everything any mother would do with her little baby, like spending a whole day with him going shopping.

She was happy with the new member of the family, she loved him. But even with Tim by her side, Dahlia couldn't forget her sweet little angel, Jason.

The woman went to the cemetery every day to leave flowers and clean her son's grave. "I'm sorry my sweet angel…" Dahlia said softly as she placed the flowers on the dirt covering Jason's coffin.

Tears began to run down her cheeks as she remembered those beautiful moments she had with Jason. Remembering when Jason used to tell her every detail of the missions she had as Robin and fought crime. Although it hurt her more not to be able to hug him and remind him that she loved him with all her soul. "My baby… I'm sorry…"

Dahlia sighed and wiped away her tears, stood up and walked away from the grave, thinking that a rest would be good for her and that she shouldn't come to the cemetery every day…

Another short time passed, Dahlia was in the kitchen preparing something to eat for herself, since she had already made sure that her husband and children had something to eat before going out on patrol. She was calm in the kitchen, with nothing on her mind, just taking care of what she had in her hands.

Until she heard heavy and slow footsteps approaching the kitchen, where she was. Dahlia thought it was Bruce, maybe he had arrived earlier than normal. When the footsteps finally finished echoing and they were already in the kitchen, Dahlia turned to look with a smile thinking it was Bruce.

"You came back early hon-…" Dahlia spoke but she interrupted herself upon seeing a stranger with a red helmet.

She tightened her grip on the knife she was holding. "Who are you…?" Dahlia asked with a hint of fear and distrust. "If you come closer I swear that-" Dahlia was interrupted when she saw how the stranger took off his helmet and revealed his face.

Dahlia couldn't believe it…she was seeing her dead son in person. Her expression changed to one of surprise mixed with sadness. She began to feel that her eyes were going to start crying at any moment, but for some reason she couldn't let go of the tears, first she wanted to know if she really was her son or just a hallucination in her head. "Jason…?" Dahlia said quietly as she dropped the knife and covered her mouth with her hand.

Jason placed his helmet on the ground and clenched his fists in anger… or perhaps, frustration. He looked at Dahlia and stared at her. "I thought you loved me, like you loved Grayson. Like your son." He spoke, trying not to let his anger and desperation show. "But I only see that you got a replacement." Jason added as he clenched his fists tighter.

Dahlia opened her mouth but not a single word came out, she was shocked, was it really her son who was in front of her? Or was it just one of her other hallucinations? Dahlia didn't know whether to really believe what she was seeing, what if this was all a dream? Her Jason should be dead. However, she was seeing him in front of her, with some scars on his arms and face.

Regardless of whether it was a dream or not, she was going to hug her son.

Dahlia rushed towards Jason and quickly wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hug with a tight grip as tears began to well up from her eyes and slide down her cheeks. "Oh Jason… Please forgive me my sweet angel… I'm sorry for not having been a good mother to you and not being able to go and protect you… I'm so sorry honey…" Dahlia said between tears and sobs, holding his son tightly with no intention of letting go.

Jason wanted to push her, but she just wouldn't let him; Dahlia was his mother, his support, and the most beloved woman in his life. He was just resentful, frustrated to see his mother with a new son. Frustrated to see how his mother was loving another child. Jason felt as if his mother had completely forgotten about him after his death.

But after hearing Dahlia call him by his old nickname, he saw those moments pass by when he was happy playing and talking with his mother. He couldn't deny it, he loved how her mother's laughter could be heard along with her smiles.

Jason pursed his lips and simply hugged his mother back, tighter. And his vision began to cloud with tears that he wanted to hide but he let them out, unburdening himself in Dahlia's arms. "Ma…"

[HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!!!]

#♡₊˚ Sweet Post・🦇₊✧#batmom #red hood #jason todd x reader #batmom imagine #batfamily #batfam #batmom x jason #jason todd #batboys #batmom x batboys #Red hood i love you sweet boy

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atinylittlepain · 2 months

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Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed.

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again.

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat.

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right.

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more.

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label.

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working.

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort.

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself.

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.”

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?”

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.”

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now.

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever.

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer.

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works.

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away.

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?”

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.”

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.”

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it.

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again.

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor.

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?”

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner.

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her.

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places.

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier.

“So, you do live around here then?”

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.”

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.”

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust.

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.”

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured.

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers.

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?”

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.”

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that.

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again.

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest.

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike au #marcus pike angst #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

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alanisinstone · 2 years

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domestic dad!bakugou that has a chubby wife 🥺

cw: slight nsfw, slight angst (microscopic levels), FLUFFF, mention of pregnancy, mention of children

a/n: hi friends, this is the first time i've posted in a while and hopefully not the last, i have lots of ideas that i wanna share. if ya'll have requests or any little blurbs, hit a girl up

So they have like 6 kids right, because bakugou cant keep his hands off of her. and he has so much love and admiration for her not only because of how amazing of a mother and wife she is, but for going through pregnancy and labor 6 fuckin times. and she bodies that shit like every time and comes out better, faster, and stronger. but after their 6th kid, they think its time to slow down because sir this is not a breeding farm (👀)

and so wife has never been thin per se, but after this 6th kid, she looks in the mirror sometimes and feels like a whale. she still loves herself, but all those years of not minding the baby weight, she starts to feel like she's put on a very noticeable amount. her first priority ofc is taking care of her babies but standing in front of the mirror and critiquing herself has become an increasingly time consuming addition to her day.

she spends less and less time busying herself with things outside of work like going out with friends or running errands, and spends more and more time in her and katsuki's bedroom trying on all of her clothes, lingerie, and checking all her angles in the mirror. and she hides it damn well because no one notices, not even kat's. she decides to take matters into her own hands and starts doing some more exercise than she usually does, going to the gym and going on runs with the stroller. But the more she does, it seems the more apparent it becomes to her that nothing is changing.

kat's first sign that something is up is when he finds her rummaging through his side of the closet looking for who knows what. babe what'r ya doin? he comes up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist, with a confused look. i'm lookin for some clothes to wear to lunch with the girls she mumbles out still sifting through his things. in my side? whats over here that cha need hon? he says nuzzling into her neck looking curiously at what she's picking out. i dont know i'm just looking for something she huffs, feeling frustrated and out of luck that as she suspected, none of his clothes are even remotely cute enough for the outing. okay baby, i'm gonna go run the kids to moms. he says giving her a quick peck on the cheek, unwrapping from her, and walking out of the closet. she spends a couple more minutes looking but ultimately finds nothing, and then she feels like shit so she ends up canceling on the girls.

kat's second sign is when she turns down an invitation to a hero event. it wasn't the annual hero gala, but it was a pretty big event with lots of top level heroes, big sponsors, and rich people in attendance. it peaked katsuki's suspicion because she never turned down a chance to dress up and go out with him, and her response was blunt. he kinda presses her like, babe you love galas, whats going on?? but she stands firm in that she does NOT want to go and that shes just kinda feeling icky postpartum. he reluctantly goes along with it, and the headlines are talking about his appearance without her for like a week. now hes kind of suspicious so hes keeping an extra close eye on her activity.

the third and final straw is when she abruptly disappears one saturday evening right before their scheduled date night. the kids were at their grandparents, and kats was busy in his office when he noticed the time, quickly getting up and going to go find her so they could talk about what they're wearing. babe? baby? he checked all around until he walked up stairs towards their room and heard faint sniffling through the door. He walks into the room cautiously but concerned, finds nothing, then follows the sound of her increasingly intense sobs. He slowly opens the closet door with a quiet baby? and sees her, cheeks streaked with tears, curled up in a ball on the floor, looking very distraught. Of course he still takes a small second to admire her beauty but then hes immediately on the floor with her arms moving her to his lap, hands coming up to her cute, tear-stricken face. honey whats wrong? what happened? he coos, trying to understand what could have possibly made her so upset.. and she just can't stand keeping it in any longer so she spills everything, saying how since the last baby she feels huge, and very unsexy, and that she knows he loves her but she doesn't feel like he wants her sexually anymore, and it seems like everyone in the world is so rude nowadays, and the skinny soccer moms look at her funny now, and the karens at the school seem to think shes apart of their group for some reason...

bakugou listens intently to every single thing she has to say but is also beating him self up fr for not catching any of this. he wouldn't hesitate to say that she is absolutely his rock and nothing less, but hes also supposed to be hers, and he feels like he failed at that. if he couldn't see that something was wrong and help her through it than what kind of husband is he? baby listen to me he whispers all of those scary thoughts bouncing around up there? he brushes her hair back out of her face its all just noise. you are the most beautiful, intelligent, kind, loving person that i ever have and ever will know. i admire you more than you'll ever understand. you make me a better man, you raise our kids so beautifully, with love and patience, and i guarantee you, everyone you come across knows that you are the kindest soul there is. and if theres someone fucking your shit up you know ill take care of it. you glow inside and out baby, you light up any room that you walk into. and ill be reminding you every day now since you can't seem to get it through your stubborn head.

shes not sobbing anymore but shes gazing into his eyes in awe of how she could possibly have locked him down. she closes the space between them, kissing him on the lips softly, pouring out all her love for him hoping it conveys what she can't seem to put into words. And he feels it washing over him; the sweet, soft, gentle but passionate love that they share being opened up like a pandora's box. it seeps into every corner of the house, every crevice of their bodies, and sparks with every touch and caress. he can smell it in the air and she can hear it ringing in her ears. its not visible in the way material things are but its even more present in every way, it takes up all space there is to take and grows and expands.

they're lost in eachother - in the love sticking to them like glitter. kats breaks away to make one more point and if you think im not attracted to you, you are horribly mistaken. and thats the least of it. im unhealthily obsessed with you babe. you are the only thing i see. you and your body is on my mind 90% of the day, and im constantly fighting a hard on. i can't even get it up to porn anymore. she hits him upside the head laughing. their bodies still and forever entangled in the love they've made.

likes and reblogs appreciated!

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 6 months

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A Healing Kiss

This fic will cover my "Let me kiss it better." square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt will be in bold.

Summary: Y/N causes Dean a bit of damage. Can she fix it with a...kiss?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Just a little bit of smutty goodness. Blowjob. slight handjob. Oral (m receiving). Implied oral (f receiving). Crack if you squint.

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,968

A/N: Here is the next request for my second @jacklesversebingo card. It came from @suckitands33 :

Oh I’d love ‘let me kiss it better’ how about along the lines of flirting Dean and reader. Nothing actually happening though then reader hurts Dean in the dick and balls by mistake and says that ‘line’ and dean thinks she’s joking but she follows through with it. Love a bit of mutual pining then they give in to their desires. 🙏🏼

The pining ended up being a bit more from the reader's POV, but there's a hint that Dean's in the same mindset. Hope you enjoy it, hon! Hope everyone enjoys it! If you do, please don't forget to reblog, comment and/or like. I so appreciate it! ❤️

The beautiful dividers are created by @talesmaniac89 .

“Shit! Shit! I'm so sorry!”

Y/N winced as Dean just groaned out his pain and rolled into the fetal position.

“Dean! I'm so sorry!” She repeated, kneeling beside him, hands running up and down his sweaty bicep. “I just stumbled, I was aiming for your thigh.”

She grimaced again as she remembered the powerful kick she'd delivered, intending to connect with his meaty thigh, a move he could have blocked, or taken easily. They were training and Dean was on the attack, she was on the defense. But she’d just lost her center of gravity for a half second as she shot her foot out and she stumbled, landing the blow to a much more sensitive area.

Dean just waved at her as he sucked in deep breaths. She wasn’t sure if he was telling her it was okay, or telling her to get lost. Eventually he pulled himself up and disappeared into the bathroom. She thought he might be checking for permanent damage. She grabbed the bucket and filled it with ice from the machine just outside their room.

She knocked on the door of the bathroom. “Dean? I have some ice for you.”

The door opened a crack, but only Dean’s big hand stuck out, reaching for the bucket. He groped in the air for a minute until she grabbed his wrist and set the bucket on his palm. It disappeared back inside and the lock clicked.

She sighed and flopped down on her bed. This was definitely not how she’d wanted this evening to go.

This was only the third time she’d been out hunting with the Winchesters; there was a lull in the case and they had to wait until the next day to interview a couple of witnesses to what they were fairly certain was a demon possession. So Sam was off with the pretty librarian they’d met earlier, and had texted Dean not to wait up.

So it was just the two of them in the motel. This was the first time they'd ever been completely alone for any length of time and Y/N was feeling the tension. She felt as though there had always been a bit of something between them, just a spark that sprang to life sometimes, a touch here and there that felt like it could be much more if they allowed it.

Or at least, she thought there was a spark. She was a tiny bit worried she'd become delusional because of how badly she wanted the green-eyed hunter. So when Dean had suggested they spend their evening getting in some training, Y/N had jumped at the chance, hoping he was suggesting it as a way for them to get close - and physical.

She did her best to be at least a little subtle in her excitement over the prospect of sweaty, hand to hand grappling with the hottest fucking man she’d ever known. Since they’d met less than a year before she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head. She was crossing every finger she had that this evening would lead to something she’d been craving for a very long time.

Everything Dean did was sexy, every part of him made her melt - his thick, solid, hunter’s body, long and powerful and begging to be taken for a ride. His deep, rumbling voice, like a shot of strong whiskey, always made her shiver. His eyes and the way they held secrets and promises in equal measure within their mossy green depths. And that mouth - Jesus, it should be illegal for a man to have a mouth that pretty.

He was basically walking temptation and she desperately wanted to give in.

But now, instead of using their physical closeness and panting exertion to finally get him naked, she’d probably made it impossible for him to have children. She clapped her hands to her face and tried not to scream.

Finally, ten minutes later, Dean came out of the bathroom. Y/N sat up as he set the bucket of melting ice onto the counter beside the coffee maker. She scrunched up her face in sympathy.

“I’m really sorry.”

But Dean just shook his head and fell onto his bed. “Nah, it’s fine, sweetheart. I’ll live. But you should definitely use that kick on a bad guy; he’ll be down and out like that.” He said with a snap of his fingers.

Y/N bit her lip. “Good to know.”

Dean folded his arms behind his head and grinned at her. “Where’d you learn that little ninja kick, by the way? It’s pretty badass.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s much more badass when I don’t stumble and miss my target.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, I will admit that wasn’t exactly how I was hoping our sparring session would end.”

Y/N’s stomach clenched. She licked her lips, eyes locked with his. “Really? How uh…how were you hoping it would end?”

Those wicked promises were back in his gaze as he shrugged and smirked. “I was hoping to win, of course.”

“Ah, of course.” Y/N said, trying to gauge his mood. Was this friendly flirting or something more real? “Sorry I nailed you in the nads instead.”

Dean chuckled again, a low rumble. “I feel like that apology wasn’t as sincere as the others.”

Trying hard not to think of the consequences if she was reading him wrong, Y/N got up to walk to his bed and sit down at his hip. “I’m sorry, Dean.” She said sincerely, but slightly breathless. “Let me kiss it better.”

Dean’s eyes widened and warmed. His tongue darted out and he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment before letting it go, leaving it plump and wet and enticing. He forced another small laugh and a smirk. “That’s funny, sweetheart.”

Y/N smiled and then moved her hand to his belt buckle, just resting it there. “And if I wasn’t joking?”

Dean breathed out roughly, his eyes downcast and staring at her hand. When they raised back to hers, the pupils were bleeding into his bright green irises. “Then I’d say, it will probably take more than a kiss to make it all better.”

Y/N’s grin became wicked as she worked at his belt with one hand. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Dean’s breathing picked up as she unzipped his jeans and reached her hand inside. She groaned along with him as she ran her hand over his underwear and along his incredible length. He was semi-hard already and so thick it made Y/N’s mouth water.

She tugged on his jeans and he lifted his hips to let her pull them off. She climbed onto the bed and straddled his bare legs before running her hands up his thighs. She dug her nails into the thick, meaty muscles there and Dean hissed.

She bent her head down and pushed his t-shirt up so she could lay wet, sucking kisses across his flat stomach. She lowered the waistband of his boxer briefs just a bit so she could bite into the taut v-shaped muscle that disappeared into his underwear, making Dean buck slightly beneath her.

He moved his hands from behind his head to grip the sheets in his big fists as Y/N slid down his body slightly so she could place a light kiss to the thick ridge straining against the black cotton.

“All better?” She teased. Dean huffed out a laugh and his voice was pure rasp as he answered.

“Not quite.”

She hummed and nodded. “Better get a closer look then.”

She slowly peeled his snug briefs down over his hips. He lifted for her again briefly and she freed his dick to slap against his lower abdomen.

“Fuck me.” She said quietly as she took in the beauty of his perfectly marbled cock, long and thick and leaking.

“That's the idea, sweetheart.” Dean said with a breathy chuckle.

She leaned down to kiss the very tip, flicking her tongue into his slit and making his cock twitch. She moaned as she wrapped her hand around the base and couldn’t quite make her fingers touch. She began placing feather light kisses all along the shaft and she could feel it throb beneath her lips.

She pushed it flat against his stomach and swirled her tongue around each of his balls, earning a grunt and a ragged curse from Dean.

“Fuck Y/N, fuck.” He mumbled.

She mouthed her way up his shaft, teasing and tormenting him by occasionally scraping her teeth very gently over his velvety skin. Finally she closed her mouth tight around the tip pulling in her cheeks and sucking on him like a popsicle. He groaned deeply and her core muscles clenched painfully.

His left hand moved into her hair and he gave it a tug as she slid further down his length. “Yes, baby take it all, swallow me down.” He ground out between clenched teeth.

Y/N hummed her agreement and pushed down as far as she could, till he was touching the back of her throat. She dropped her jaw, and let go of the base of his dick so she could plant her hands on the mattress on either side of his hips and arch her neck so that she could take his whole cock, pressing her nose against his pelvic bone and letting him stretch her throat.

Dean’s hips bucked and she pulled all the way off of him, letting her spit and his cum keep them connected as she looked up the length of his body to watch him push his head back into the pillow and growl. His hand in her hair kept tugging and pulling as she began bobbing up and down on his cock. The slight sting spurred her on, and she moved faster and faster on him, letting him hit the back of her throat every time.

She pushed down hard on him and the spongy head of his cock slipped down her throat once again. She swallowed around him, and then sealed her lips tight and sucked hard as she pulled back up.

Dean pushed against her shoulders. “Fuck, I’m close, I’m gonna cum.”

Y/N gripped his dick in her hand again, pumping it a few times, before she opened her mouth wide and bounced his heavy cock against her tongue. Her saliva ran down his length, allowing her hand to glide over him smoothly as she kept milking him. Finally with a fierce yell, Dean gushed into her mouth and down her chin.

She pumped him through his whole climax, licking and sucking on him as his hips stuttered and he finally fell back onto the mattress, spent and panting. Y/N cleaned him up with her tongue, making sure she got every drop.

As his breathing normalized and began to even out Dean grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward to fall across him. He brought her mouth to his and kissed her long and hard, not caring that he could taste himself on her lips. He rolled her over and pinned her beneath him before pushing to his knees and yanking his shirt off so he was completely naked. She was still fully dressed.

He tugged on her t-shirt. “Gotta do something about this.” He said as he pulled it off.

Y/N giggled breathlessly and then gasped as he moved to unzip her jeans. “Does this mean my kiss worked?” She gasped. “Feeling all better now?”

Dean yanked down her jeans and panties with one tug and groaned as he saw how wet she already was.

He nodded. “Yeah, much better, but now I’m starving.” He said with a grin before sinking down to feast.

#dean x reader #dean x y/n #jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester smut #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction

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mikedfaist · 2 months

Note

Do you write Dodge x Reader? If yes, could you write one where Reader gets hurt during a Panic challenge and Dodge helps her?

DODGE, MY BOY.

I first want to apologize because it has been several sleeps since I’ve watched Panic completely through, so I don’t remember all the details, but I will try. So, this would happen when they have to break and enter into that one man’s house and steal something. If you want a little recap of their relationship, you can read this.

Her and Dodge are a team. If it’s not a solo challenge, he will be by your side. So, I imagine the two of you found something to take, and as you’re escaping through a window, that’s when you hear the first gunshot. You two freeze, but Dodge is quick to push you along. You’re out the window first and running through the cornfield when you hear a second shot. You stop in your tracks when you notice Dodge isn’t behind you, and the only thing you can hear is the sound of the man yelling.

You don’t want to think about it; you’re shaking your head in disbelief and begin to run back to the house when a third shot echoes through the air, and you feel the pain rupture into your leg. You scream out, falling down into the grass, clutching your thigh. You can hear your name being called out, and there’s a rustle by your head where Dodge crawls out from the stalks forward you.

“Fuck—fuck, fuck.” He presses down on the wound, which only sends waves of pain through your entire leg. “I’m sorry—fuck…”

“He got me.” You lay down, covering your face with your arms, as Dodge removes his shirt to make a tourniquet.

“I know, baby.” His voice cracks. “I think it just grazed you but…I don’t know, it looks deep.”

“It hurts,” You wince out, choking back tears. “Make it stop.”

Dodge feels defeated. Can he even take you to the hospital without stirring questions about a gunshot wound, and not mention Panic?

“Come on,” He bites his lip. “We’ll get you taken care of.”

His mom.

He carries you back to his car and lays you down in the backseat. “Hold tight for me, okay? We’ll be there soon.”

Dodge squeezes your hand and jumps into the front seat. The pain is subtitling into a rooted throb, and you raise your head to speak.

“Dodge…it’s not hurting so bad now.”

“Might be the adrenaline…or shock, I don’t know. We’re almost there.”

When they arrive at his house, his mom’s care is thankfully still seated in the driveway.

“My mom’s going to take care of this, okay?” He bends down to pick you back up in his arms. “It’ll be over soon, just trust me, okay?”

When he enters the house, his mom shoots up from the sofa. He tries to explain what happened, but he can’t quite focus on anything but the sound of your whimpers.

“I need to cut your jeans off, sweetie. Need to see what all happened.” She’s always been so gentle with you. She cuts a long strip from the ankle to your thigh, exposing the wound, confirming Dodge’s suspicions. “Okay, it was just a graze, which is good. Still nasty though.”

You lay down on the kitchen floor, Dodge sitting up by your head.

“Okay, honey, we need to clean it out… Dodge, can you grab a towel for me?” She takes a wet paper towel and gently cleans off blood around the wound. “Okay, hon, I need you to bite down on this, okay?” She holds the towel to you, and you stare back at it in bewilderment. “I need to clean it, so it doesn’t get infected, okay? It’s going to hurt.”

More than it already is?

“Dodge,” She warns, signaling to hold me down. “Okay, hon, one-two-three—”

It pierced through you, your screams grating your throat as you bit down on the towel. Dodge held you in his lap, one arm wrapped around your front to keep you still. Your eyes burned with tears as she scrubbed away at the wound, the pain nearly pummeling you.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” Dodge leans down to whisper to you, taking your hand into his. “She’s almost done.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” She stresses, “Any little bit of debris can cause an infection… Just need to make sure it’s all out.”

“What the fuck is this?” Dayna declares, appalled.

“Not now—”

“No, actually, what the fuck? What happened?—”

“She got hurt doing a challenge—it’s okay—” Dodge meets his sister’s piercing gaze from across the kitchen.

“She’s literally bleeding all over the floor—it’s not okay! Take her to the hospital!”

“We—” Dodge bites his tongue. The one place he wishes he could take you right now, he fears would result in the end of the game. “You know we can’t, Dayna—they’ll ask questions—"

“At what point is it worth it? Your girlfriend is hurt, Dodge. Is the money really worth her not getting actual help?”

And he knows it.

“I’m going to wrap it up, okay, hon?” She presses a towel back down on the wound; you wince instinctively. “Dodge, grab the dressing from the first aid kit.”

You pull the towel from your mouth, your hairline littered with beads of sweat. The worst is over, you think. You stay the night with Dodge that night, his mom coming in to check on you every so often. Dodge carries the guilt heavily on his chest, wishing he would have chosen differently. How could he ever choose the game over your wellbeing? Was the money really that important to him, that the moment your safety is on the line, he still tries to protect everyone else?

#mike faist #dodge mason #dodge x reader #dodge talk #panic amazon #panic show #mike faist imagine #i rushed that ending #my apologies #also his mom may not be a nurse but i made her one #good for her #jack of all trades #just don't tell the sheriff

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xcalciumx · 11 months

Text

A Night to Remember | Moon Knight System x Reader

Word Count | 4.5k

Summary | A nice night with your boyfriend Marc quickly unveils into chaos. A third altar? A horrifying demon? Your half-assed Egyptian God of Wind and Air, Shu? What could possibly go wrong.

—

“Here you go.”

You smile sweetly at your boyfriend as you set the cup down on the coffee table, taking care not to spill the hot contents inside.

“Thanks, baby,” Marc says as he sinks further into the couch, the NFL playing on the television becoming a background buzz. You watch him with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes fluttering shut briefly before snapping open again. His breathing is heavier than normal and it’s almost as if he’s curling in on himself as he sits there, eyes blank.

“You alright, Marc?” You murmur, reaching over to lay a hand on his shoulder softly. At the contact, his gaze shoots to you. He mumbles something incoherent before speaking up.

“Mm, i’m alright, hon. Jus’ a little dizzy. That’s all…”

You hum noncommittally, not sitting down yet as you observe him carefully.

“Stevey’s not trying to front, is he?” you ask calmly, head tilting in question. A few dark locks of hair fall over his forehead as he blinks blearily over at you. His strong jaw is accentuated by the gentle glow of the lamp, his features seeming to darken with exhaustion. “Marc?”

He shakes his head.

Your lips thin as you keep watching him, a part of you suspecting that Steven was, in fact, trying to take the body. He continues to sit there in a haze, and you think for a moment before cupping his face gingerly. He blinks up at you, though it's as if he's not really seeing you.

“I’m gonna get you some water, alright? I don’t think coffee is gonna do you any good right now.”

Marc doesn’t respond. Turning on your heel, you quickly make your way back into the kitchen, hands wringing together in worry. Marc can handle it, you remind yourself. He’s a big boy. Nevertheless, you can’t help but put an extra hop in your step, hoping to get the glass of water and return to his side pronto. The glass is cold in your hands, the filtered water that had been sitting in the fridge making it even more so. Though you can’t see into the lounge from where you are, you can't help but keep glancing towards the doorway in concern for your lover.

The water quickly rises to the top of the cup. You hurry back into the room.

Except now, Marc isn’t there. You stop in place, lips pursing. Where had he…? Before your mind could come up with anything crazy, you heard the soft thud of footsteps approaching you from behind.

“Marc, lovely? How are you…feeling?”

As you spun around to face him, your words slowly trailed off. Marc was standing there, but immediately you could tell there was something off. His eyes seemed to have gotten somehow darker, his back straighter than usual. Any signs of his previous delirious state had practically vanished into thin air. You cocked your head to the side, assessing him. Silently, he stared back, his empty stare now a piercing glare.

“Marc?” you cleared your throat, “You alright?”

Slowly, like a creeping vine, a smile made its way across his lips.

“Fine, darling.” He replied, though there was something off about that too. His voice was rasping just a little too much, a strange accent lacing his voice. He narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay?”

You blinked a couple of times while you processed his words.

“Fine,” you stammered. “Um, I suppose you’re feeling better then.” You amended, not fully believing that he was just suddenly okay. Just to make sure, you shot him a sheepish grin, beckoning him over. Wordlessly, he answered your call, coming closer. When he was within reaching distance, you raised the back of your hand to his forehead, feeling the skin there for any signs of a fever. At the unexpected action, he looked down at you with confusion, body tensing. Before he could ask, you were already retracting your hand to your side. “You’re not coming down with something, right? I mean, you don’t feel warm but your voice…”

His dark chocolate eyes met yours with a sudden intensity, making you bring your bottom lip between your teeth. Nervous. Why were you nervous all of a sudden?

“Maybe I am getting sick,” he said slowly, eyes tracking the length of your face carefully. “I feel a little…faint.”

Knew it. You gave him a reprimanding look, bringing your hands up to push him back down onto the couch next to you. He went down with ease, not putting up a fight. Remembering the glass of water you had discarded onto the table, you quickly found it, situating it in his hands.

“Drink,” you ordered.

He did so, eyes still not leaving you even as his throat bobbed with each swallow. You mirrored him, eyes a little tight around the edge as you regarded his actions. A dreadful feeling crept up your spine but you shrugged it off for the time being, leaning onto the arm of the sofa casually.

“Can’t believe Konshu would let his avatar get sick,” you murmured, loud enough for Marc to hear. “I’d say the old geezer’s not exactly doing his job right, is he?” The silence that met you was eerie. Marc lowered the glass from his lips, reaching over to place it on the oak table. He didn’t say anything, didn’t laugh. Normally, Marc would be the first to laugh at any remark or joke made at Konshu’s expense, so this quiet response had you concerned. He must have realised his silence unsettled you, as the next moment he was cracking a small grin.

“Yes, well…” he didn’t finish his sentence. Just sat there, something heavy going on behind those almond eyes of his. You wanted to do something, hold his hand, but that daunting feeling was back. When he glanced at you, you swore that, even for a second, you were looking at a stranger. But if it wasn’t Marc, then who was it? At the thought, you blinked repetitively, mentally scolding yourself. You were just paranoid. All the worry for his well being was turning your head into mush. But the idea was incessant, haunting. Maybe something funny was going on up in his deep and complex mind; perhaps Steven was causing a ruckus. You nearly laughed at the thought of your sweet British man doing anything remotely annoying or ‘causing a ruckus.’

“Hey, Marc?” you spoke, conscientious about what you were saying. “Are you sure you’re the only one driving the car, right now? I mean, Steven’s not shotgunning, right?” He looked at you with bewilderment, as if the analogy wasn’t one the two of you had used a thousand times before. Quickly though, you watched as he dispersed of the shock and instead, shook his head calmly.

“No.”

“Oh,” you whispered. “Oh, okay.”

Just then, a dark shadow flew past the corner of your eye. When you tilted your head slightly to the left, you were met with the sight of your very own god, Shu, standing by the bookcase in the corner of the room. Very minutely, you raised your eyebrows; a silent query.

His response was instantaneous.

That is not Marc Spector, little mortal.

Your eyes widened a tad but you schooled your features, urging him to continue with a slight wave of your hand. In front of you, Marc had his eyes trained to the tv, lips curled into a displeased frown. Though you wanted to inquire more from your god directly, it didn’t seem like the right thing to do given the situation at hand.

There is a darkness radiating off him. Like a plague. But I'm not quite sure what it is…

A plague? Curious, you peeked over at where Shu was standing, but was met with the barren walls of the apartment instead. You couldn’t help but mutter a soft curse. That annoying old prick. Hearing your profanity, Marc peered back at you again, a salacious grin curving his lips.

“Filthy mouth, mi amor.”

What were meant to be supposedly cute words had you holding back a flinch. Marc never spoke Spanish to you; and he certainly never called you his ‘amor’. You couldn’t show him that though, so instead of gaping in shock like you wanted to, you returned his teasing with a cheeky little smile.

“¿Sí? Mala mía, nena.” Something twinkled in his eyes as he leaned towards you. He clicked his tongue tauntingly. Though there was something strange going on, and there was a large possibility that this wasn’t Marc - it was still his body, and you were still just as attracted to it as you were twenty minutes ago, which didn’t help much at all.

“No bueno, not good at all.” he admonished, dark eyes looking you up and down like prey. Beside you, your hand clenched into a fist. Spanglish banter with Marc? Something was definitely up.

You hesitantly stood up, nodding towards the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back, need some water.” Marc waved at his nearly empty glass.

“You can have some of mine, hermosa.” He eyed you quizzically as you shook your head.

“You’re sick, remember?” you huffed out a quiet laugh over your shoulder, already walking away. Back turned, you missed the way his lips straightened seriously, eyelids falling into a bored expression.

This time as you crossed the threshold, you were in a rush for a whole other reason.

Be careful, little mortal. That is definitely not one of your boy-toys in that meatsuit.

You jumped at the booming voice in your head, whipping around to the kitchen counter where Shu had returned, sitting nonchalantly on a stool. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Yeah, thanks, I got that part.” you hissed quietly, walking towards your knife block. “But if it’s not Marc, and it’s not Steven - who the hell is it?” The ancient Egyptian made a shrugging gesture at you, ostrich feather flopping around on his head while he looked around the room.

Something dark. Something ominous.

“Okay, would you stop it with the mysterious, vague crap? What is - “ you paused suddenly, ears faintly picking up on movement from beyond the door. The hand that had been reaching for your chef's knife instantly stopped and redirected to the cupboard above your head, in an attempt to appear like you were searching for a glass.

Uh-oh.

You shot a last minute glare at the wind god, grabbing hold of a glass as you heard footsteps hit the tiled floor of the kitchen. Briefly, you closed your eyes and took a calming breath. Whatever this was - you would deal with it. A cold draft made its way up your spine.

Don’t turn around, little one.

Shu warned you, his usual booming cadence levelling out as he watched over you. As you observed him from the corner of your eye, you watched as he mimicked a gun with two dark fingers, your lips downturning at the action.

“Oh, hey Marc?” you asked in an attempt of casual indifference, one hand grasping at the door to the fridge. He took a moment to answer.

“Yes?”

It was almost like he wasn’t even trying to hide the New York accent anymore.

“Steven forgot to feed Gus and Frankie this morning. Could you…?” he anticipated your question and you heard the hefty sigh that escaped his lips behind you. There was a slight tapping sound against the floor before you heard him walking off to supposedly feed the goldfish. You let out a breath of relief, go you.

It was a lie, of course. Steven could never forget to feed the fish. However, Marc had been fronting all day, and well, Marc didn’t really care for, in his words, ‘the stupid pets’. Naturally then, it was your job to feed the fish when Steven wasn’t present; though, you had returned home from a mission early this morning and had fallen right into bed with Marc, your fatigued mind not even remembering till now that you owned Gus and Frankie. Still, the excuse to get this Marc imposter away from you and unsuspecting was as good as any.

Make haste, little mortal. He will kill you if you don’t do it first.

You directed an angry snarl at your god.

“I’m not killing my boyfriend.”

Though as you said this, the silver of the knife sheened as it slipped from the block.

Why don’t you just wear the suit?

“Because I’m trying not to let on that I know he’s not Marc!” You whispered angrily, stalking around the counter and stopping at the hallway door.

The suit will keep you safe.

“If I need the suit, then give me the damn suit. But for now, shut up and watch my back.” The god huffed dramatically in your head but you ignored it, creeping along the wall till Marc, or Marc’s body you guess you should say, came into view. He was standing at the fish tank, large hands fiddling with a packet of feed.

You nearly started cursing at him - that was the wrong stuff! He was holding the special treat pellets Steven liked to give them when they behaved. The bloody bags cost double the amount of normal feed. Steven wouldn’t be happy if it was wasted, neither would you.

Delicately, you snuck up behind him, air stuck in your lungs. The knife you brandished was tucked closely to the small of your back, your eyes never leaving the enigmatic figure in front of you. Appearing stoic and collected on the outside, you were freaking the hell out on the inside. You hadn’t thought this far ahead. Would you threaten him? Demand him to reveal himself? You weren’t going to actually hurt this dude, right? Afterall, it was still your boyfriend's body and just the idea of bringing him harm caused a gnawing pit to grow in your stomach. You’d known Marc for well over a year now, and although your first meeting had technically been a fight between the two of you (a petty god vs a pettier god kind of thing) it had been the last time you had laid hands on eachother so violently and with so much ill intent.

It’d bring you a lot of pain to hurt Marc, but him hurting you? It would kill him. So, the fact that this guy was seemingly trying to outright murder you…Yeah, it stung a little. Imagining Marc or Steven finding you dead on the floor made you feel sick to the stomach.

With that in mind, you crept closer, only a step away from grabbing him and putting the knife to his throat like you intended. You weren’t going to cut him - no way, you were just gonna scare him a little and hopefully get some answers.

Well, that was the plan at least.

Until he whipped around and pointed a beretta M9 straight at your chest.

Your eyes widened.

“Hold on -”

He did not.

You saw the squeezing of his finger, heard the click of the gun and then your ears began to ring with the sound of a gunshot. Straight into the heart.

Gasping for breath, you stumbled back, eyes frantically darting to the golden chestplate now wrapping around your torso.

Told you, you needed the suit.

Your panicked expression quickly morphed into one of fury, hands shaking by your side. The chef's knife that you had intended to use was quickly chucked behind you as you snatched your spear from your back, your armour now encasing your whole body.

“You asshole!” You yelled at the man, stunned at how easily he had tried to murder you. He blinked at you innocently, gun lowered to his side.

“Nothin’ personal, sweetheart.” he said, this time the fake voice he had kept up shattered completely. “Orders are orders, you’d understand.”

Your jaw clenched. No, no you would not understand.

“Konshu is making you do this?” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Who else?”

“Who else? I - why the hell,” you didn’t know what to say to that. Konshu wanted you dead? Since when? “Who even are you?” you managed to get out, trying to gain some semblance of control back. A smug smirk came over his face.

“¿Que? I’m Marc Spector,” he taunted you, knowing full well that you knew he was not Marc Spector. Not in the slightest.

You ground your teeth, shooting a glance at the Egyptian god over near the bed. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes trained on the window.

“Shu?” you hissed, no longer bothering to hide the fact you were talking to him. Not Marc Spector raised a brow. “What is it?” The god looked over at you quickly, his eyes darting between you and not Marc. His eyes flared with golden light.

Shaytan.

A cold wave flowed through you at the word. The scrunched up, concerned look on your face did not go unnoticed by the imposter opposite you.

“Wow, you’re loco. I’m probably doing the boys a favour gettin’ rid of you.”

You tried to ignore his words, but the sheer malice of what he was saying caused an involuntary reaction. You whipped your head back to him, an accusatory finger pointed in his direction.

“Shut your mouth, dimwit. You must think this is a real joke, huh? Shaytan - it’s a demon! You need to back off, now, because something really, really bad is going on.”

All you received was a flat, deadpan look.

“Okay, I’ve entertained this long enough. No hard feelings, loca.” As he spoke, he tucked his gun into the sweatpants Marc had been wearing, head tilting back a little. You watched as he closed his eyes and then…nothing happened. The silence was prominent when he peeked one eye open, lips pulling down. His fists clenched by his side but still, everything stayed the same. You could’ve laughed.

“Having a problem there, estúpido?” you mocked. He glared at you, mumbling something under his breath. Then too, he looked towards the window, completely disregarding you.

“Aye, where’s the suit?” he said. You looked at the blank space that he was talking to, glancing at Shu who had come up next to you. He rested a glowing palm on your head.

Look.

You had to stop yourself from screaming as the light flooded your mind, opening up your conscience to the world beyond. By the window, ghoulish form trembling and heaving, you witnessed the creature Shu claimed was the ‘Shaytan’. Long pale limbs, glowing silver orbs for eyes and a body that resembled a starved, withering corpse. It was definitely not Konshu. Your stare wavered to where not Marc was speaking to him, confusion washing over you.

He only sees Konshu standing there.

Shu’s words made you frown.

That’s what those Shaytan do. They hide their true form, encapture gods and feed on the vulnerable souls of well…avatars.

“Are you saying that thing wants to eat my soul?” The horror on your face doubled. “Wait, are you saying that it’s also gonna eat Marc and Steven’s soul?”

Shu grimaced.

It looks hungry, little one. You should probably run.

“What!?” You almost screamed. Just then, the haunting eyes of the creature locked onto you. Your heart dropped to your feet. “Do something!” you hissed at your god, “get rid of it!” The awkward laugh booming in your head was not reassuring. At the same time, not Marc met eyes with you, determination ever-present on his face. Great, just what you needed. One horrifying monster and one murderous psycho. Amazing.

See, that’s not really my area of expertise. We need the moon god, he has more experience with those things.

Slowly, you began to back away, spear clutched in a death grip. “Are you kidding me? Where is he then?”

Like I said, they encapture gods. Konshu is probably fighting his way back from the underworld right now. Don’t fret though, I’m sure you will be alright. If you…if you leave. Right now. Um.

You were already running, floorboards thudding beneath you as you skidded down the hall towards the front door. When you glanced back, you noticed that your god had completely vanished, probably not wanting to be the next one on this demon's hit-list.

“You’re the lousiest god I know, Shu! I swear to - OOF!”

As you reached for the silver knob, something heavy came barraging into you from behind. Your back throbbed at the harsh contact. As soon as you hit the ground, you twisted your body - expecting to come face to face with the psycho occupying Marc's body. You wanted to cry when you realised that it was not the psycho, but rather the soul-hungry boogeyman that was trying to rip you to shreds. Its paper skin rippled as it leant towards you, mouth opening into a deep, black hole. As soon as you saw the pink tendrils that slithered out from that darkness, you knew you’d be having nightmares for at least a year after this.

Beyond him, the moon gods' avatar came screeching to a halt, his eyebrow drawing together at what he was watching.

“Konshu?” he asked in that thick american accent of his. If it weren’t for the fact you were about to get your soul sucked from your body, you would have shouted at the man for being so stupid. The creature huffed above you, a low howling sound echoing from its skinless lips. “Right…” not Marc responded. You could barely believe what you were seeing and hearing. He really believed this was Konshu, didn’t he? You almost felt bad for the man for being tricked by this demon. Almost.

Those tendrils got closer and closer. It was only when they were a hair's breadth away from your face did they stop. You inhaled noisily, trying to escape the grip of this thing. But even when you managed to pull a hand free and swing your spear haphazardly, it simply passed through it like a cloud, having zero effect. The Shaytan didn’t like that, growling and snarling in your face. You turned white as a ghost.

Holy hell. You were going to die.

A dark shadow fell over your head and you were barely able to make out Shu above the demon's head. The tendrils tickled your nose and you had to contain a shout.

“Do something,” you whispered through clenched teeth. “Shu, don’t you dare let me die to this thing.” Your eyes fluttered in uncontained fear as you felt it latch onto you with those tentacle things. It’s heaving, rough breaths amplifying as it tugged at your skin. “Shu!”

To your utter relief, the Egyptian God actually did do something. His hand, decorated in sapphire jewels and dark beads, reached out in front of him, some sort of ancient Egyptian chant leaving his lips. You could just make out the ankh held firmly in his other hand. As the words spilled out, the Shaytan began to thrash, angry howls filling your ears. Even so, it didn’t disconnect from you. You were beginning to feel dizzy, a tiredness taking over your body. It was like the feeling of running nonstop for hours and finally passing out from dehydration. Except you weren’t just passing out, your very mind and being was being pulled from you.

“Shu,” you rasped desperately. His chanting stopped.

Nothing’s working, little mortal. I’m sorry but there’s not much else I can think to do.

You’re giving up on me? You wanted to yell. After everything you’d done for him, how loyally you had served him all these years, he was just going to let you die? You had never felt so angry in your life. Not to mention this whole thing with not Marc; how long had he been hiding from Steven and Marc? How long had he watched the three of you living a content life and decided ‘right, I’ll just kill her and it’ll be no big deal’? You wanted to punch him in his stupidly handsome face, not just to quell your own anger but for the other two men who had to share a body with him. You couldn’t imagine how he could try to hurt you so nonchalantly. He really was a psychopath.

Dark spots clouded your vision, the anger swelling inside of you becoming mute as you could no longer keep fighting back. It was done. You were done. What a miserable fucking way to go out.

Through the dark haze, you heard a distant voice, a familiar yet unfamiliar one, a loud yet quiet one. Booming. Reprimanding. Godly?

- you are certainly reaching old age, you dumb little man. What god doesn’t know how to deal with a Shaytan in this day and age?

Pressure seemed to suddenly vanish from your chest, the growing exhaustion in your body coming to a still. That voice…that voice.

Konshu?

Jake Lockley, you must be under the influence of the other two’s stupidity. By what order would I be sending you to kill her? Astonishing. Truly.

Slowly, the world came back into focus, your eyes straining to look up at the wooden ceiling above you. The Shaytan was gone.

Thank fucking lord.

The towering figure of your god presided over you instead, a grim set to his lips. You shot him the nastiest look you could manage in your half-conscious state.

Forgive me, little mortal. Konshu arrived and he saved you from your imminent end. No need to be bitter.

You coughed, throat dry, before turning over onto your hands and knees, whole body aching painfully.

“No need to be bitter?” you sputtered, leaning on the wall as you tried to stand. “You were going to let me die,” you hissed.

I tried!

“You didn’t try hard enough, you big, dumb god!”

That’s not very nice.

You growled, turning back towards the apartment where a certain Moon God now stood with his avatar. Your furious gaze settled on ‘Jake Lockley’.

“You gonna apologise now, you fool?”

Jake’s dark eyes settled on you, his shoulders lifting in a half-shrug. Now that you were looking at the real him, you could make out every little thing that made him distinctively different from Marc and Steven. From the posture to the look in his eyes.

“You can’t really blame me for all that,” he said. Konshu made an annoyed noise at his side. When you looked at the Moon God, he made another frustrated sound.

It’s not my fault that I chose a dumb avatar, little girl.

Your lips pursed.

Meet Jake Lockley, the third and last one inside your partner's head. My real Moon Knight.

You looked back at Jake, hands settling on your hips as you regained your bearings. Everything that just went down flashed through your mind, a crease forming on your forehead. Tonight was supposed to have been a nice night-in with Marc, but this…this?

“You and I have a lot to talk about, Jake Lockley,” you scowled.

#moon knight #moon boys #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight x reader #moon knight system #konshu #Shu #x reader #marc spector x reader #Jake Lockley is loco poco #part two?

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tswhiisftteedr · 5 months

Text

Hair Prank! ☆ One Shot

☆Dorm Leader!Vil Schoenheit x Choatic!Pomfiore Student!Female!Reader:

After pulling a prank causing Vil’s appearance to change, you try to your best to run away from his now angered self. But isn’t hate and love two side of the same coin, at least passion wise…

Warnings: Making out, Graphic language, suggestive tones but nothing happens. Not proofread.

Note: This is based from this ask, also I’m sorry I didn’t know how to incorporate the clothing style into the fic, maybe I’ll rewrite it. Sorry again, but I hope you still like it! Mentions of Yuu but reader is not them.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

☆ More under the cut. ☆

It was your daily dance lesson after school with Vil as your instructor. Epel had skipped out on practice, making your strict instructor, even stricter than the usual due to his irritation. But his constant critique of your technique was getting on your nerves.

"You made a mistake again. We'll start from the beginning once more," Vil sighs as he walks over to the speaker. On his phone, he restarts the same song that you've been dancing to in your lessons.

Ever since being assigned to Pomefiore, your life had been but relaxing. Being the only official female student admitted this year, after the school board had decided to transition from an all-boys to a unisex school, you were sure to attract eyes, Vil’s included. In his mind he would’ve brought you by his side to unlock your potential, even if you’d have been assigned to another dorm. But goody him, as the dark mirror had chooses to put you in his care. But to you it was all a waste of time and energy, you already did skincare and took care of yourself, you truly needed him to interject. Well that was your opinion, but it was plain obvious that it wasn’t his.

Even when you had try to coax him into taking Yuu under his wing instead of yourself, bless her heart, he had shot down the idea right in front of her. Saying something along the line that she was too much of a potato to be able to shine the way he was sure he’ll make you do.

"Don’t even think about, don’t you dare try to leaving again," he turns to glare at you. You were so close to the exit... It's like he had eyes behind his head.

“Lisent Vil. hon’, darling.” You say to him with a faux kindness and sympathy “You’re really starting to piss me off.” You continue, but this time, with a tone of voice that actually carried your sentiments.

"Shut it!" Vil's face is full of disgust. He cannot stand how easily you dismiss his words as if they don't carry any weight at all.

"I don't care how hard it is or how much you despise dancing," he continues in a demanding voice, "You WILL become an ideal beauty or else..."

“Or what my ‘Queen’? Gonna make me dance on hot burning coal, maybe carve my face off and place it on Mannequin head so you can play dress up with it, or make me all old and wrinkly with one your potions as a punishment, yeah the third one seems more like your style. You pussy.” You say to him spitefully, following it with a snicker.

His eyes widen with anger as he steps closer to you, invading your personal space. "Do you have any idea what I'm capable of doing to you?"His tone is cold and threatening.

“Oh I don’t know, since you actually never do shit. You just talk and talk, you must really like the sound of your own voice, and not in the regular person type of way, no that’s not it, you like it and yourself in the narcissistic type a way, you probably get off on simply hearing the sound of your own voice or looking at your reflection.” You continue taunting him, with a snicker that is irritating the shit out of him.

Vil's anger boils over as he grabs your arm sharply and pulls you up against his body. "I warn you. Never, EVER insult my ego again. I'm done taking your attitude lightly. The next sentence you utter from your pathetic mouth had better be filled with an apology. Do you understand me, worm?"

As he says that you secretly take out a pouch full of powder out of your many pants pockets. ‘Cargo pants are the best’ you think to yourself. The powder was enchanted, it made the person it lands on, temporarily change hair colour, about 24 hours.

As he finishes, “I’m sorry Vil,” you tell him apologetically. But in the reality of things, gears wear turning in your mind. “I’m really sorry about this!” you shout at him, as you open the pouch and throw the contents of it on Vil. The shock from the situation causes Vil to let you go, and you start booking it, running out of the room as fast as possible. “See ya later handsome!” You say teasingly, knowing he would be displeased with his current appearance.

Vil's eyes widen as his beautiful blonde locks turn a dark shade of purple. His face grows contorted in outrage as he screams, "Get back here!" without thinking of the fact you've probably already left.

Suddenly, his expression turns into one of disbelief and horror. Vil looks at himself in the mirror. His heart skips a beat as he takes in his new look. "... No," he says in a strained voice.

After leaving the dorm through the magic mirror, you head towards the Ramshackle to tell Yuu and Grim about what had transcended, and probably Epel too, that’s were he usually hides to skip out on Vil’s lessons.

Meanwhile, Vil is still looking at himself in the mirror with a shocked expression on his face. After what felt like hours, Vil finally begins to process what just happened. "I can't believe she did this to me."

Vil's mind races as his hands tremble slightly. He clenches his fists in anger as he thinks to himself, "That girl... that ungrateful, selfish little...!"

You were sat on a couch in the Ramshackle, retelling the events to Epel and Grim, Yuu wasn’t there, apparently she was with the Ignihyde dorm leader right now.

“And then he grabbed me, and I was like literally against him, body to body type of shit. He started going on about ‘Never’ insult his ego again and that the next words that came out of my mouth should be ones of apology.” I tell them,

“So he at did you do next??” Epel asks, wondering if this story was headed where he anticipated it to go, after all he was the one who helped you craft the magic powder.

“Well then I secretly pulled out the beautiful, hair color changing magic powder we crafted, I was all like ‘I’m sorry Vil’. After I opened the pouch the powder was in and threw it on him, with a ‘I’m sorry for this!’. The look of horror on his face was priceless.” You tell them with a victorious laugh.

Grim raises an eyebrow as he listens to your retelling of the event and lets out a sarcastic chuckle at your story. "You must've really struck a nerve." He turns to look at Epel and prompts him to respond to the story.

Epel nods eagerly. He looks excited as he waits for you to continue.

“After everything I ran away to come to you guys, but as I was leaving I could his screech in the distance lol”

Grim begins laughing heartily. "I bet you could hear him all the way from here, huh?"

In the distance, you could still hear Vil's shouts of anger. Grim and Epel continue to laugh at your hilarious prank.

But then you all simultaneously realized that it was impossible to hear his voice, since the magic mirror connecting each dorm to campus didn’t project noise for within the dorm. This meaning only one thing, Vil was here on campus and he was headings towards you…

The laughter quickly dies down as the three of you come to terms with the fact that Vil had just followed you here. Grim gets up to brace himself for a confrontation. "Well, it seems our little game has finally caught up to us," he says in a resigned tone.

A little bit earlier,

Vil was standing in front of a mirror, trying his best to hide his new appearance in a hood, in order not to attract too much attention(too bad the angered noise he was making did the opposite affect). He thinks back to the incident, a look of rage and embarrassment on his face. "That girl thinks that she can one-up me, does she?"

His face curls in anger, "She's going to pay for humiliating me!” he shouts to himself. Vil turns away from the mirror and quickly leaves the room to find you. He then heads towards the lounge of the dorm to pass through the mirror chamber and arrives campus, he guessed you probably wouldn’t have stayed on dorm site with the stunt you just pulled.

Now back to the present.

Vil is walking through campus, his mind full of thoughts ranging from fury and rage to confusion and disbelief. As he walks through the crowds, he tries his best to maintain a neutral or at least stern expression in order to not draw attention to himself.

Vil finally reaches the Ramshackle and he takes off his hood, deciding to face you and whoever was in there without hiding himself. Still, he is visibly pissed as he glares at the thought you.

You hear knocking. And you shush your to friends up, you’re now as quite as mouses.

There is a moment of silence as you hear Vil knock again on the door. His voice can be faintly heard, "Open the damn door, girl! I know you're in there!" The knocking then become more aggressive as he continues, "Come out here this instant!"

It felt like he was going to soon break the door down, so while he continue his knocking you sneakily left the ramshackle through a window at the back.

Vil grows even louder upon realizing that you aren't responding to his calls and knocks. He starts banging on the door in a fit of rage. "I know you’re in there! Come on out. Now!"

He decides that he had enough of the wait, and breaks the door down with magic not damage his manicure, he was still an actor and beauty influencer afterall.

But you was obliviously gone by then, Vil steps into the ramshackle, seeing his two classmates sitting before him. His eyes narrow as he searches the room for any signs of you. He looks at Grim and Epel with disdain and contempt in his eyes. "Where is she?" His voice is demanding.

“We don’t know.” They tell him at the same time.

Vil's eyes flicker with annoyance as the two of them blandly lie to him. "She can't have simply vanished off the face of the world." His tone is angry and condescending. He knows what they are doing and he knows that you are nearby, or at least that was what he thought in the moment. He walks right up to the two of them, his presence imposing itself as he gets closer.

But then Vil decided that it was a waste of time to talk to them, they were only going to back you up afterall, probably give him wrong information. So he decides to search around for you instead. As he snoops around, he sees that the back window was open, then he realized how that’s the way you made your escape.

By then you was already far away, in the mirror chamber, making your way to Savanaclaw to hideout.

As Vil paces around the ramshackle to collect his thoughts on where you could’ve gone and what to do now. He over hears Epel and Grim whispering to each other.

“So you think she made it there already?” Epel asks grim, “Yeah she probably at Savanaclaw by now.” Grim answers him.

What had happened was that, when Vil was still knocking you had whispered to them about your plan to go and hideout at the warmed temperature dorm, before you had made your escape.

Vil's eyes narrow as he watches Grim and Epel converse with each other. He has a strong suspicion of what they are talking about based on their demeanor. "She thinks she's funny. And these two idiots are helping her." Vil mumbles to himself.

He walks over to the window once more and looks outside to see if you is anywhere in sight. When he sees the empty space, his rage only grows in intensity. His face contorts into a bitter scowl as he clenchs his hands into fists.

By now you had a pack of candy in hand, trying to bribe Ruggie into letting you stay in his dorm for cover.

Vil walks back over to Grim and Epel after not being able to spot you anywhere.

He glares at both of them while trying his best to restrain his temper. "So, you decided to help her with her little prank? What a surprise you two were so happy to assist an ungrateful little girl in humiliating me."

Vil glares at the two of them one more time as he storms out of the ramshackle.

Meanwhile, you're still bribing Ruggie with candy. "Let me hide in your dorm, and I'll give you this candy." Your words are accompanied by an innocent smile.

By the time he had arrived to Savanaclaw, you were already well hidden in Ruggie’s room, more specifically, under his bed.

Vil searches all over the Savanaclaw dorm building, but he can't find any trace of you. "Where is she hiding? I KNOW she's around here somewhere!" Vil thinks, as his anger grows. He starts pacing back and forth in front of the dorm with gritted teeth.

Vil's eyebrows twitch and his jaw clenchs tightly as he sees Savanaclaw dorm leader, Leona Kingscholar lying down on a nice sofa, without a care in the world. He glares as his eyes narrow. "Have you seen a student named F/n L/n around here by any chance?"

“Why? Did your favourite doll go missing?” The lazy lion teases with his eyes still closed.

Vil rolls his eyes. His patience is worn thin by this point. The mere mention of that stupid nickname makes his blood boil. "This is no game Kingscholar. Have you seen her or not?!"

“Hm? I see, well I can tell you that i saw her talking to Ruggie about staying in his dorm about 15 minutes ago, though I don’t know if he actually accepted or not.” He tells him nonchalantly not wanting the angry dorm leader to pester him even more, rolls around ready to back to his nap.

Vil sighs with frustration. He knows he can't go into Ruggie's room to look without possibly getting into trouble. "Damn it all." Vil thinks. His tone is sarcastic and irritated as he responds. "Oh really? You think he let her in?"

“Don’t know, don’t care, maybe he did, but she had some candy on her person, and that guy sure loves free food.” Leona finishes, before falling back asleep.

‘Of course she would offer him candy. Something she’s not even supposed to have if she was properly following the meal plan I made for her! She really is an absolute menace.’ Vil thinks with a scoff, his tone dripping with cynicism.

Vils asks around for Ruggie’s dorm number as Leona already headed back to sleep before he could ask anymore questions.

As he arrives at the room Vil knocks on the door a bit sharply, making it clear that he is not happy to be outside of Ruggie's dorm in the first place.

It seems he's already lost a ton of patience and is becoming more agitated with each passing moment. His face is twisted into a scowl as he waits for someone to answer.

“Yes?” Ruggie asks as he slightly opens the door.

Vil's eyes narrow even more, it's not a good sign. His tone is tight and impatient as he responds. “I'm looking for someone. They were supposed to be here. Have you seen anyone by the name of f/n l/n?"

“Maybe, what’s in it for me if if tell you?” He says to him with his signature snicker.

Vil scoffs in annoyance, this situation was growing even more aggravating for him. He was used to being in the upper hand, being the one to call the shots. Now he's reduced to begging some low-life delinquent for information about someone that should be under his jurisdiction. Vil is NOT pleased. "Oh come on, will you stop with your nonsense already? This is serious business." He tries to coax him but Ruggie doesn’t budge.

Vil's anger grows stronger but he refrains himself from lashing out. ‘This insolent bastard. As if the information is wordly classified. What a selfish prick.’ Vil thinks. "Fine. What do you want?" His tone is tense, he's gritting his teeth as he asks him.

“Well, you got something tasty for me?” Ruggie inquires, after candy is great and all but it doesn’t have a long lasting effect for soothing hunger. So he would be opposed to selling you out if he got something better than the sweets you gave him, in exchange.

Vil sighs in annoyance. He's not the type to give in to someone else's childish demands. But he must admit that these demands are quite reasonable for someone like Ruggie. ‘Of course he wants sweets.’ Vil thinks. ‘I'll play his stupid game.’ "I suppose I could spare a small piece of candy or two. Would that be enough to get a straight answer from you?" He offers the hyena beastmen.

“One or two pieces? You got to better than that, afterall I got a full bag of them for my silence. Buying me dinner is bare minimum for what you’re asking.” Ruggie shoot down his proposal,

Vil's eyes narrow as he frowns. He can't believe this stupid bastard has the nerve to ask him for this much. But he's running out of options. Reluctantly, he nods his head in defeat. "Dinner. Alright, whatever you want. Just give me an answer already."

“Okay then!” He snickers once more. “You can look around my room for her, if you want, but that’s it.” He tells Vil.

Vil sighs in annoyance. He can't believe he has to stoop this low. He glances at Ruggie with disdain as he responds. "That is absolutely ridiculous, you know that right?"

“I don’t know what your talking about~” The hyena says, then heads out.

Vil's eyes twitch in annoyance as he searches the room for the slightest hint of your presence here. However, the room is in its usual state of messiness, making it impossible for a casual observer to find anything of value. Vil seems more agitated than before as he continues to look for you. He even opens the closet to look for you in there. He was about to head out until you accidentally made a noise.

Vil pauses mid search, hearing the noise he heard. He turns his head in your direction, instantly knowing that the little sound he heard was due to you. He glares at the location from where the sound came from. "I know you're under that bed little girl," he says, his tone sarcastic as he addresses you, his scowl only growing in intensity.

But you decide to play with him more, and stay quiet.

Vil steps forward, getting closer to the bed. He stands up and leans over it, looking under it. The scowl on his face is so intense, his expression is almost terrifying. He spots your body hiding under the bed and glaces down at you. "I know you're in there, so you can come out now. Or do you prefer me making that decision for you?" He asks and his tone is angry and condescending.

But even after being caugh, you don’t say anything or more for about 3 minutes, so Vil drags you out from under the bed by the ankles. An expression of satisfaction covers his face. He was getting tired of this game. Vil's eyes glare at you, his expression a mix of irritation and annoyance. The moment he has you in his grasp is when he finally speaks. "Now listen, I've had enough of this. You're coming with me."

“Whatever, you’re no fun” tell him, still messing with his temper.

"You think this is supposed to be fun? This was never meant to be entertaining. I just want to get the job done." Vil glares at you, his tone becoming even more agitated. "Now stop your pathetic whining and get moving."

As you were heading back to Pomefiore, you had decided to pull another stunt, by ‘pulling’ hood down. His new hair colour in plain view for all students to see. That pissed him off so he drag you to his room to scream your ear off…

Vil was already getting impatient, and your actions only made him even more irritated. The moment he gets you into his dorm, he locks the door behind you and starts glaring at you once again. His tone is stern and cold as he speaks to you. "Just what did you think you were doing? You think you're clever, but you're nothing but a nuisance."

“Chill out, it was just a joke.” You tell him, not taking him seriously at all.

Vil's eyes flicker in a mixture of frustration and rage as you talk back to him. He stares down at you, his eyes narrowing to narrow slits. He can't possibly find any aspect of you or your actions to be amusing at all, instead he feels only a deep loathing and hatred. His tone is harsh as he responds. "Oh you think this is some sort of joke? That you can just get away with messing with me like this"

“Yeah, pretty much.” You say nonchalantly.

Vil's fist tightens as he glares at you, a vein on his forehead is visibly twitching. His eyes are so intense that they seem like they can burn right through you. His tone is filled with cold and hatred, he's getting angrier by the second. His lips curl up in disgust as he responds. "Listen to me. You think you have been annoying enough, but trust me. I can make you suffer worse in a million ways. So I suggest you stop being such an irritating little girl and start behaving properly."

“God, you’re so hot when you’re mad.” You admit out of nowhere, looking up at him with mischief.

Vil stares down at you with sheer disgust and disbelief. He can't believe that you would actually tell him something so ridiculous, let alone at a time like this. His eyes narrow and his jaw tightly clenches. "Are you out of your mind? Just who do you think you're talking to?" his tone is harsh and condescending, his scowl is even more intense now.

“Duh, I’m taking to the hottest and sexiest man in all of Pomefiore.” You keep pushing.

Vil seems stunned by your ridiculous compliment, his eyes flicker with rage once again and he snarls at you. "Do you think you are actually seducing me? There is not a single thing about you that I find attractive or appealing. So if you have nothing of value to say, I suggest you shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

“Please do so, I’d love to how this scenario could escalate into something more spicy~” You tell him.

Vil's eyes narrow as he raises an eyebrow. He can't believe how bold you have become now that you were in his room, behind locked doors. He glares at you in indignation, unable to hide his disdain for your actions. "That's it. I had enough. You want spicy? Than spicy it shall become"

Perhaps it was the want to put you in your place, perhaps it was it was the fact that Vil had been crushing on you for quite a while but didn’t confess because your antics, or perhaps it was just a spurt of the moment type of thing that cause Vil do to do what he did.

In one swift motion, Vil grabs you and pins you against the wall.

“Yeah, I like we’re this is going” You say not letting up the teasing.

Vil stares down at you with a fiery-glow in his eyes. His voice becomes smooth as his tone grows more intimate. One of his hands moves down your body to grab you by the waist, holding you close to him. "You really do know how to push my buttons, you little pest."

“It’s one my best traits”

Vil lets his thoughts go wild and allows himself to surrender to the rush of emotions that are overwhelming him right now. His facial expressions soften as his grip on you becomes a little bit looser, he's more relaxed now. His tone is almost as silky as his skin."Perhaps, that is one of your best traits. Perhaps, you are more than just some troublemaking little thing."

“So are y’a going to kiss me or just stare at my dazzling face.” You say with a wink.

Vil pauses for a moment. His eyes are darkening and his lips curl up in a slight smirk. He leans down until he can feel your breath on his skin. His voice is a husky whisper. "Oh, I'm definitely about to kiss you alright. But not because you requested it, but because I wanted to."

Vil's lips press themselves against yours with a lot of force, almost as if he can't wait to get a taste of you, and of course the emotions of anger you caused the man. His tongue quickly moves into your mouth and his hands wrap themselves around you in tight grips. His body is plastered against you, and every movement he makes is smooth like butter. His kisses are passionate and full of aggression, but somehow still very tender. He moans, his sounds being low and husky.

Vil pulls away, his breathing is heavy and he looks you deep in the eyes. The expression on his face is calm and tranquil now, his lips curling into a light smile."You know, you're not so bad after all. Your ability to get me so riled really is quite fascinating."

“Thanks! So are you still mad me my queen?” You inquire.

Vil laughs softly, his voice is almost a purr. A playful grin forms on his lips as he responds. "Mad? No, I don't think that's correct anymore. Irritated? Yes, very much so. After what you did earlier, it'll take a lot more than this to compensate for that."

“I guess I’ll get punished tomorrow, huh. But it doesn’t seem so bad of a though anymore.” You say to him all sweetly.

Vil smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He's starting to get used to your antics and is starting to respond with sarcasm. “Oh, you bet I'll have lots of fun with you tomorrow. I think I've found the right kind of punishment for you. And I'll make sure that I'm really thorough."

“Oh yes, I wonder what the big bad evil queen will do me as for punishment.” You say semi-seductively, it’s more to mess with him then anything else.

“Well starting with extra dance practice to make up for today sounds like a plan.” He states, shooting down any type of sensuality that might been a couple seconds prior.

“Oh come on!” You complained.

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cookies-over-yonder · 27 days

Text

the quiet he holds runs a river that'll never find home

Sklonda uses her spare key to unlock the door of Riz's office when he doesn't answer after the third time. He's passed out on his desk, much like she expected, but when she goes to wake him up she feels just how warm he is. She sighs, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. Of course he'd end up working himself into a fever at this rate.

title from Fireworks by Mitski

ao3

Sklonda uses her spare key to unlock the door of Riz's office when he doesn't answer after the third time.

He's passed out on his desk, much like she expected, but when she goes to wake him up she feels just how warm he is.

She sighs, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. Of course he'd end up working himself into a fever at this rate.

The contact wakes him up, and she watches as his eyes crack open, bleary and unfocused.

"Ma...? Wha—wha—what time is it?" Riz asks, breathing faster and starting to tremble. "I miss... I missed..."

"Breathe, honey," Sklonda says, brushing away the hair stuck to his forehead and helping him sit up properly.

"Wha's going on...?" he asks, his eyes fluttering shut again. He reaches for his glasses with shut eyes, and Sklonda hands them to him.

"You have a fever, and you need rest," she says, helping him stand, "Let's go home, hon."

Riz doesn't protest, he doesn't have the energy for it, Sklonda suspects.

And then she's tucking him into her bed on Pok's side, and bringing him water, meds, and a cold compress for his forehead.

"'M gonna miss class," Riz whines, his eyes shut, "need to work... Kristen's campaign... aviation club..."

"What you need is sleep, honey. Everything else can wait until you're better," Sklonda says, kissing his forehead.

"Mm...m'kay..."

Sklonda leaves the room with the door ajar and calls Jawbone to let him know.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jawbone, it's Sklonda. Riz isn't gonna be at school today, he's worked himself into a pretty nasty fever."

"I hate to say it, but that doesn't surprise me one bit.

Sklonda sighs. "Same here."

"I'll let the kids know. They'd been worrying 'cause of his radio silence."

"Thank you. He's asleep right now, but if I'm not careful, I'm sure he'll try to sneak right back to the office. Or to school."

Sklonda sighs, thinking for a moment about how calling off work today is a huge setback money-wise, but she has to do what she has to do.

"I'll make sure to get all the work he missed from his classes and keep it ready for when he's feeling better."

"Thank you, Jawbone."

The call ends, and Sklonda looks back at Riz, dead asleep. He's got one leg under the covers, and one leg on top. His eyebrows are still knitted together in the way they always are when he's deep in thought—it reminds her of Pok—and his breathing is slower now but still slightly unsteady. His ears and cheeks are a deep green, and his tail is flicking back and forth beside him, occassionally hitting him in the leg.

She sighs. "What am I going to do with you, kid?"

She grabs a pair of pyjamas and sets them at the foot of the bed for him to change into when he wakes up, and heads into the kitchen.

Cereal doesn't seem like the best choice. It's not very filling, not for Riz. He needs something with more substance.

They don't have any meat. Maybe Sklonda could run to the store, but it's best not to leave Riz alone.

As she's in the kitchen trying to figure out what to feed Riz, she hears a sob coming from her room.

She rushes over, to find Riz curled in on himself, sobbing.

"Hey, honey, I'm here, what's wrong?"

Riz reaches his arms out for her weakly, his eyes shut, and she's quick to wrap him in a hug. He's still incredibly feverish.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Riz nods, crying harder and babbling gibberish that probably doesn't even make sense to him. Who's this Baron?

"Okay, okay, it's okay baby, you're safe, I promise," Sklonda says, rubbing circles into his back as she shushes him.

Riz whines, before relaxing and falling back asleep almost immediately.

It's almost eerie, the way he just passes out like that.

Sklonda thinks the last time Riz got this sick was before he was ten. After Pok died, he wouldn't sleep, and he wouldn't eat, and he would only bury himself in cases to solve around the neighbourhood for weeks on end, and eventually it all caught up to him, just like it is again now, Sklonda supposes.

She tucks Riz in again, brushing the hair out from his face and the tears away from his eyes. She runs a towel under cold water to wipe his face properly, and then fashions it into a new rolled up cold compress for his forehead.

There's a knock at the door.

She gives Riz a quick kiss on the cheek before heading to the door, and upon looking through the peep hole, she sees the other five members of Riz's adventuring party.

She opens the door. "Shouldn't you all be in school?"

"Where's Riz?" Adaine asks.

"We brought food!" Fig says, lifting up a bag.

"He's asleep right now," Sklonda says, letting them inside and leading them to his room.

The chatter must have woken him up, because Riz shifts to face toward them, his eyes cracked open just slightly. "Don't... skipping... go to class..." he mumbles as the Bad Kids approach.

"You look like shit, The Ball," Fabian says. Sklonda scrunches her face up at the nickname.

Riz hisses back, trying to lift himself into a sitting position with trembling arms before giving up and collapsing back down.

Fig puts down the bag of food and helps lift him into a sitting position, all while he continues to hiss at her.

"Chill, dude, I'm trying to help," she says, putting the back of her hand against Riz's forehead, "Shit, dude, what the fuck did you do to yourself?"

"He overworked himself," Sklonda says, grabbing the cup of water from the bedside table and helping him take a sip. From helping all of you, she doesn't say.

"Go to class, Fig," Riz mumbles, his head dipping forward and his eyes falling shut. He draws his knees up to his chest and buries his head in them, breathing heavily.

Sklonda sees Kristen cast a quick healing spell, which makes his breathing steady a little.

"He's right," Sklonda says, running her fingers through Riz's hair, "you should all be in class. Thank you for bringing food, we really appreciate it, but school has already started."

They all show varied expressions of anger and sadness at that.

"Riz wants you guys to go to school," Sklonda says, and Riz nods. "Come on," she says, leading them back to the door. They all grumble about being forced out, but they obey.

Except for one.

Sklonda heads back to the bedroom, and Adaine is sitting next to Riz on the bed, handing him her shockingly round frog familiar.

"Adaine..." Sklonda starts.

"My grades are as good as his, he doesn't need to worry about it, and neither do you," she says, and Riz nods, looking comforted by her presence.

Sklonda sighs. "Fine. You can stay."

Maybe this means she can go to work. Adaine is responsible enough.

"I've helped Fig and Kristen when they were sick before, so if you need to go to work, you can."

"I really don't think that I should put that pressure on you."

"We'll be fine, I promise."

"Alright."

Riz passes out almost immediately after saying bye to Sklonda, and Adaine watches as he shifts in his sleep, tightening his grip on Boggy.

She sends a text to Jawbone, letting him know she's staying with Riz while Sklonda is at work. He says he'll swing by after school to check on him and pick her up.

Riz had said before that he felt too sick to eat, just before Sklonda left, but Adaine told her she'd make sure he did, so while he's asleep she gets up to get the fast food from the fridge and prepare him a plate.

When she walks back into the bedroom, she sees he's awake, staring back at her.

"I brought you food," she says, sitting back next to him and helping him into his own sitting position, his back propped up against a pillow.

It seems like he's feeling well enough to eat, because he passes Boggy back to her and the plate is cleared in only a minute.

"Thanks, I—I'm fi... I'm fine now," he mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut. "I can go to school."

"You're staying here," Adaine says, passing him his water cup, and feeling his forehead. "The rest probably helped, but you're still sick, and you need more of it."

Riz whines, and then takes a sip of his water before passing the cup back to Adaine. "Where's Ma?"

"She went to work, remember?"

"Right," Riz nods, before looking at her quizically with bleary eyes, "Wait, shouldn't... shouldn't you be at school? When did you...? Wait... I remember."

"God, Riz, you really need to let yourself rest sometimes."

"Can't," Riz says, and he shakes his head, but then he freezes and holds it in his hands with a groan.

"Yes you can, and you will," Adaine says, brushing hair away from his face.

"I can't, I'm missing, missing all my clubs, and Kristen's campaign, and I... I... I need to..."

Riz trails off, and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, breathing faster.

"Riz, hey," Adaine takes his hands in her own and gives them a squeeze. "It's okay. It's not the end of the world to miss one or two days of school."

Riz is trembling now, and Adaine sees tears sliding down his face as his shallow breathing continues.

Adaine hasn't experienced it herself, but from her research, she knows that sickness can worsen anxiety. And Riz is already so, so, so anxious.

"I'm so... I'm fucking... stressed... Adaine... I can't, I can't, I can't do this..." Riz mumbles, curling in on himself and starting to hyperventilate.

Adaine swallows her shock at Riz's vulnerability—she knows he's not in his right state of mind, so it makes sense—and she's quick to hand him Boggy again. He gives Boggy a squeeze.

"Riz, I think you're having a panic attack, can you look at me?"

He lifts his head and looks at her with half-lidded, teary eyes.

"Okay, let's take in a deep breath," she says, doing an exaggerated inhale.

He follows along, opening his eyes wider and giving her the most intense stare.

"And now we breathe out," Adaine says, doing a big sigh for Riz to follow along.

He follows along, squeezing Boggy tighter.

"Now relax your jaw," she says, and he follows. "Relax your shoulders," she says, and he does. "And we're gonna keep doing deep breaths together, okay?"

She does a few more rounds of deep breathing with him, until he's back to breathing at a normal pace, and the shaking has (mostly) subsided.

"There we go. See? You're okay," she says, giving him a hug.

"Feel like shit..." Riz mumbles, relaxing further in her embrace.

"I know."

"Don' wanna sleep..."

"Why not?"

"Baron," Riz says, like it answers everything.

So far, Adaine understands that Baron is Riz's partner...? But not really? But they were clearly a lie, but then they became real...? She has no idea. But Riz never wanted to talk about it.

And asking about them doesn't seem like the best idea right now...

"Says 'm gonna die alone..." Riz continues, maybe sensing her confusion.

"When... when you sleep?"

Riz nods. "Nightmare."

"You're not gonna die alone, Riz, why would..."

Adaine trails off. Somehow it feels wrong, talking to Riz about this while he's sick. She thinks if he were well then he wouldn't say a word.

"Somethin' wrong with me," Riz mumbles, and Adaine feels her shirt getting wet. He's crying. "'M broken."

"Riz, wha—" she pulls away for a moment, to look him in the eyes. "You're not broken. I don't know why you think that, but it's not true."

Riz whines, covers his eyes, and lets out a sob.

Adaine wraps her arms around him again and hugs him tight, and he just cries harder. "I don't know what's going on in your head, but I love you, and I'll always be here for you, you're not gonna be alone."

She runs her fingers through his hair in what she hopes is soothing enough of a motion—it's always helped her calm down—and the sobs start to fizzle out.

And lo and behold, he's fast asleep.

Adaine wonders briefly how much sleep debt he has, and then brushes off the thought. Too scary.

She adjusts their positions so he's lying down with her arms wrapped around him, and Boggy in between them. Riz's ears twitch a little in his sleep, and his tail flicks back and forth, hitting her leg. A moment later, it curls around her ankle.

Adaine will make him eat more later, and maybe she'll ask him more about his nightmares when he's feeling better, but for now, she holds him tight, burying her face in his hair, and she's just glad he's getting some rest.

Because god knows he needs it.

#cookies writes and cookies wrongs #riz gukgak #sklonda gukgak #adaine abernant #d20 #fhjy #fantasy high #fanfic #hurt/comfort

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pinkthrone445 · 5 months

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PLEASE i think we all need a part two to wedding bells. please

-Wedding bells- Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Pairing: Gary x Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:love, hurt

Warnings:Mention of cheating , insults

Summary:I don't wanna spoil it because I think it's good the surprise reading this fic like this.

Sweaty bodies, heavy breaths, restless hands, and intertwined limbs. Your jaw ached and your tongue was tired trying to bring this woman to orgasm for the third time with your mouth. It had been a week and a half since the wedding and this was the fourth girl you'd slept with.

Her beautiful skin was soft, a beautiful color, her taste was like sweet chocolate, her voice was intoxicating, and her moans would make anyone desperate for more. But like all the previous women you'd been with, they weren't enough, never enough, they weren't enough to get the redhead out of your head, they weren't enough to replace her, they weren't enough for you, you just wanted her.

When the woman underneath you let out a very high scream, you came back to reality, the woman had wet everything, she squirted all over the place, your face and breasts included, something you should have been proud of, but nothing filled you, nothing made you feel better, nothing you did made you feel anything.

Carefully, you untangled your limbs from the woman you were with and got out of bed, your body completely naked, looking for a paper towel to wipe you off. You'd take a bath, but that wasn't your home and you didn't want to stay there any longer than necessary.

Recently you had decided to start dating whoever crossed your path, you weren't like that before, but nothing mattered anymore. The only thing you decided to do from the first day you started this, was to take care of yourself and use protection and never take them to your house, you always went to a hotel, a motel or their houses, never yours.

After you had cleaned yourself and washed your hands, you began to get dressed under the intense gaze of the woman you were with

-"Don't want to stay a while longer?" - The woman asked, still naked, from her bed. You didn't even remember her name and that was reason enough to realize that you shouldn't be there, less staying.

-"I'm sorry, I've got work early" - It was the only thing you answered before you grabbed your purse and walked out, listening to the woman tell you to call her latter, which you knew you wouldn't do it.

When you got home, you took a bath and kept drinking alcohol, trying to keep yourself in that state where you're not drunk, but also not conscious enough to think about your misery. After a few more drinks, you fell asleep in your bed. In the morning you felt miserable, as you had every morning since Mel had married him. You grabbed your purse, put on your best fake smile and drove to school.

It was still early for the kids to arrive, so you headed to the teacher's room to make yourself a strong black coffee that would make you feel at least a little more alive. A couple of animated voices were heard in the hallway, you would recognize them anywhere, even if you didn't see yet who they were, you knew that they were from Mel and Barbara, the love of your life next to the only person, besides Gary, who knew how in love you were with the redhead.

The two women walked into the break room, smiling at the sight of you, also grabbing their cups to make a coffee

-"Morning" - You whispered with your best fake smile, lately you were pretending to be happy so much, that you no longer knew how to differentiate your real smile from the fake one.

-"Morning hon. You're here early, did you fall out of bed?"-The redhead asked, smiling, and you barely laughed

-"I couldn't really sleep"- You answered and sat down sipping your coffee while looking at your phone. The two continued talking while preparing their coffee, a reflection hit your eyes and caught your attention, when you looked up, you saw that it came from the redhead's ring, which made you sigh sadly, you had made such a good choice, that ring looked perfect contrasting with her perfect skin

-"It's beautiful, don't you think?"-Melissa asked you when she noticed how you looked at the ring, you looked up looking into her eyes and smiled

-"Perfect..."-You whispered seeing her beautiful eyes, you didn't know if you were saying perfect to her or the ring. If only she knew that you were the one who chose her rings because her husband didn't really know anything about her and didn't make an effort or pay attention to her to really get to know her, you sighed and then looked away from her-"Are we going to meet tonight to review the students' plans? I bought a good wine and I was thinking of making some ricotta ravioli, is that okay with you?" - You asked hopefully, Mel was no longer yours, but you would make the most of every moment with her. The redhead sighed and shook her head with a sad smile

-"I'm not going to be able to, I have to do some things, sorry..."-She replied and you sighed, ever since Mel came back from her honeymoon with Gary, she was avoiding seeing you, you didn't know if it was because Barbara had told her what you had said to her on the wedding day or because Gary had talked badly about you, but it hurt you to see how she avoided to spend more time with you outside of what was necessary at school.

-"It's okay, don't worry, I can do it on my own"-You responded and got up grabbing your cup and purse to go to your classroom to finish breakfast by yourself.

At lunchtime you took out your lunch box, but honestly your almost zero appetite disappeared when you heard Mel talk about their honeymoon and how they had spent it together, how magical it was and all that, so you left the tupperware in the fridge again and made yourself another cup of coffee. Lately you weren't eating much, you weren't eating healthy either, you knew it would affect you at some point but you didn't care. When your coffee was ready, you grabbed the cup and headed to the school cafeteria to see the kids. Your disappearance from the teachers' room did not go unnoticed, the others looked at each other confused when you left but no one said anything, not even the redhead who was hurt to see your absence.

The next few days passed the same, you tried to make plans with the redhead but she rejected them so you moved further and further away from her and therefore from others, you ate alone in your classroom or maybe you didn't even eat and just had a coffee. When she left work, you would see Gary come to pick her up and kiss her passionately and exaggeratedly when he noticed that you were looking at them. You'd go home with your heart broken, you'd drink a little, you'd go to a bar, you'd sleep with someone, and you'd go home to keep drinking until you feel asleep. Feeling more and more sad, broken, dirtier, and emptier each night.

Mel began to notice your absence from school, it was like you were there and at the same time you weren't, you were a ghost around the school, you just came to do your work and left, you didn't look at her or talk to her anymore, if she was around, you left the room to avoid her and you weren't very subtle when you did it and that hurt her. Melissa knew it was partly her fault, she started pushing you away first, mainly because Gary was jealous of you and didn't want the redhead to be with you, but she didn't think it would get to that point where you'd avoid her altogether. She missed the old days when you were friends and everything was easier. Honestly, since she got married, her life had not been as she expected, she had been married for a short time, but everything had already changed, Gary changed a lot and apparently he didn't even know her anymore (it was really because you had stopped helping him). And yet, Mel didn't understand why she was more concerned about losing you than about her marriage decaying.

That day, Melissa had come to your classroom to tell you that she needed to talk to you at the end of school, but you honestly didn't feel like facing her today, you felt like shit and probably listening to her would only make you feel worse. So you were begging your students to get out faster than hers, so you could leave before the redhead.

When the alarm announced the end of classes, you gathered your things quickly, but before you could leave, Barbara stopped you to talk, you tried to avoid it but there was no way to say no to her. Barbara made you sit at your desk and she sat next to you with a worried face

-"Sweetheart... Are going to tell me what's going on with you? We barely see you, you barely talk to us, I barely see you eat, you look worn out and sadder than ever, your eyes don't shine anymore and you don't smile. I know how your heart feels for Mel, but what else is going on?"-Barbara asked you and you sighed avoiding her gaze, her sweet tone and her sincere look of concern reminded you of your father when you were going through adolescence and he wanted to help you but didn't know how

-"I don't know what I'm doing Barbara, honestly, I'm just surviving, I just let the days go by. I spend my time drinking when I'm not working, or curled up in bed with someone else, people than I barely even know, nothing fulfills me and nothing makes me happy. I don't feel like eating and I have trouble sleeping, I feel so broken and tired, so so tired of living, and it's not just the fact that I'm still head over heels in love with Melissa, but my heart aches because she pushed me away, I tried to at least keep being her friend, but I lost even that. You told me she wouldn't forget me for getting married, but she did and it hurts, it hurts to think about her. That's why I keep drinking, so I don't think about anything. Because every moment that I spend sober, every second that my brain works, it is Melissa that occupies my whole being and it hurts, it hurts that she is the love of my life but I am nothing to her, I'm not even her friend"-You whispered and hid your face in your hands trying not to cry, Barbara caressed your back gently

-"You know what you're doing isn't right, you can't throw your life to the ground because of this, you didn't give up when you lost your father and you won't do it now either. You're strong, I know you are. You have to stop this self-destructive behavior."-Barbara commented worriedly and you sighed clenching your jaw

-"What's the point? I don't feel like fighting for myself and I have no one left to keep going. I just want to stop thinking for a while, I want to get her out of my head and heart and start from scratch... I've even asked Ava to arrange an exchange for me, she said she'd see it, but I still don't know anything about it. But if she succeeds, I want to leave, I don't care where, I just want to get away from Melissa and her intoxicating being , because she hurts me so much and she doesn't even notice it... If I manage to leave, maybe things will get a little better..."-You finally looked at Barbara and she shook her head

-"Don't say you don't have anyone anymore, I'm here, I'm here because I care about you and I want to see you well, I want to see you happy again... And leaving won't be the answer, the answer is to look for things that make you feel better and together we'll look for those things, I promise. I'm Melissa's friend, but I'm also your friend and I'll help you in any way I can. I never told her what you told me at the wedding, you can trust me, okay?"-She asked you and you nodded looking at her with teary eyes, Barbara hugged you tightly and you hid in her neck

-"Thank you Barbara... You always help me feel better"-You whispered, and she smiled even more.

When you two left the room, you failed to see the redhead who was pressed against the wall so you wouldn't notice that she overheard the entire conversation.

Upon getting home, you decided to go out to the bar anyway, just to distract yourself a bit, you didn't want to be home alone.

While you were dancing with a person, someone grabbed your hand and pulled you to a quieter place in the bar, you were about to fight but your heart stopped when you saw that it was Melissa, who was looking at you without saying anything

-"What are you doing here? What do you want?"-You squinted and Melissa just looked at you worriedly

-"I don't know, I really don't know, I just know that I needed to see you..."-she whispered and smiled faintly, but you sighed and frowned

-"Why? You've ignored me for almost a whole month and now you need to see me? Well, I don't want to see you or talk to you, you've been a bad friend"-Your answer came like poison from your lips and the redhead laughed dryly

-"Do you call me my bad friend? When you're the one who kept secrets from me?" - Melissa raised her voice, clearly annoyed

-"What the hell are you talking about?"-You asked confused, You weren't understanding anything, first she would show up without warning and now she was complaining about nonsensical things

-"That you had love me for years and you never told me!"-Her confession caught you by surprise and then anger filled your body again

-"How did you know about that? Who told you? If it was Barbara, I swear..."-You started talking but she interrupted you

-"I heard you talking to her earlier... Why didn't you talk to me before the wedding? Why didn't you ever tell me? You know you can tell me anything" - Her voice came out more fragile than desired, almost broken, as if talking too loudly would somehow make you escape

-"What was the point, nothing would have changed, you were in love with him and I would only always be your eternal friend, I couldn't risk losing you completely because of my stupid feelings. You would never reciprocate me, I am a stupid child and you are a great woman, you would not reciprocate, not even in my dreams. He made you happy, and at first I thought seeing you happy would be enough for me, so I keep quiet, but it wasn't and it started to destroy me. I tried to keep our friendship and you still walked away. So I lost it all anyway, I guess whatever I did, it was destined to be a failure... When I saw how happy you looked with him, I didn't dare hurt you with vain confections of love that wouldn't be reciprocated. I thought if I helped him make you happy, somehow... In a way that would be enough, but it wasn't. He only used me to make you fall in love with him, he used everything I knew about you to make you fall more in love and I watched my words fill his mouth and how you fell in love with him. You fell in love with my words and actions but believed they were his. But if those words had come from my mouth without him as an intermediary, they wouldn't have been enough for you to fall in love with me, nothing in the world would have been enough for my love to be reciprocated, so I just gave up without trying. It didn't matter if I spoke or not, nothing would have been different, you would have ended up with him anyway and walked away from me..."-You whispered avoiding her gaze, Melissa looked at you with such anger and contempt, that was what you wanted to avoid and the reason why you never confessed. You couldn't stand her being angry with you. Melissa angrily pushed you against the wall when she saw that you wanted to keep talking

-"Shut up, don't say you wouldn't have been enough because you don't know that, you're more than enough for anyone you want. Don't put yourself down. You're a thousand times better than Gary, but you're so stupid, how did you let so much time pass? Why did you let me marry him when you loved me? If you had spoken, maybe it would be you and me at that damn altar. Maybe this stupid ring would tie me to you and not to him, how I wish you were the one who occupies my bed and not him... I was scared to admit this, but you occupy my thoughts more than he does, I always care more about you than my relationship with him. You occupy my dreams and every minute of my life... But you are so stupid... So fucking stupid, you have such a big mouth but you keep quiet for so long... I hate you so much!"-The redhead went to push you again but you grabbed her hands changing the position and leaving her against the wall

-"And I hate you more! Why did you married him if you kept thinking about me?! Why didn't you say no if you weren't sure?" - You yelled at her, pressing her against the wall with your body, you were only millimeters away from her

-"Because I'm clearly as stupid as you are! We're both stupid and in love with each other and we never said anything...so stupid...- Melissa whispered looking at your lips and grabbed your cheeks kissing you hard. The kiss was desperate, teeth clashing, tongues competing for dominance, your hands touching every part the redhead would allow. Her little moans on your lips were driving you crazy and desperate for more, you wanted more from her, you needed it, you needed her. Your hands slipped under her blouse and you squeezed her waist, her skin so soft was addictive. Her breasts were pressed against yours and your hips against hers. You didn't want to be away from her, not even if your lungs were screaming for air. You wanted to kiss her until your lips wore away, you wanted to kiss her until the reality you were in changed, you wanted to touch her until your body and hers became one, you wanted to hold her until she became yours and you became hers. But nothing would change reality, Melissa was married and this was wrong. The redhead pushed you gently, breathing heavily

-"Whether we like it or not, I'm still married to him" - she whispered, teary-eyed inches from your lips

-"I know, I can't fucking forget that" - You whispered and tried to kiss her again but she wouldn't let you, putting her fingertips on your lips to stop you

-"And I'm not a cheater..."-she whispered, and you sighed walking a few steps back, even if your soul ached for having to part from her after wanting to kiss her for so long. You knew why she said it, whether Gary was a bad men or not, he didn't deserve to be cheated on like her ex-husband did to her in her old marriage-"I'll talk to Gary and then we will see where this could go... Would you be willing to wait for me?" - Melissa asked looking into your eyes and you barely smiled

-"Always..."-You answered and arranged a strand of hair that had ruffled out of her perfect hair

-"I'll see you tomorrow at school then... Please don't stay here, go back home and eat something and try to get some rest... And if Ava gets your transfer, don't accept it... Wait for me please or I'll go after you"- Melissa whispered and kissed your cheek, very close to your lips before leaving to talk to him.

#lissa ann walter #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti smut #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti abott elementary #abbott elementary

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