#cause. i did not expect to teach I expected to like. work in some big r&d lab

[sunniepoo]

plsplspls more mean and icky stepbro!rafe x innocent/pure!reader 🙏 i lovee the way u write him 💕💕

maybe something like stebro!rafe teaching r how to kiss n get herself off n all that orr maybe sleepy sex <3

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“ngh-uh” you pant, body restless as your fingers sloppily slip in and out of your dripping cunt. you’ve never felt like this, never felt so desperate; so unexplainably horny

you hadn’t expected the whine that left your mouth to come at the high volume that it did, but you were just so frustrated; your fingers weren’t hitting that one spot you craved them to. when all your friends said they did this , you expected it would be easy, not like this

all your thoughts were interrupted as a harsh knock on the door followed by the booming voice of rafe caused you to scramble, finding a spare top and shorts to chuck on before answering

“jesuuus christ open the door already” the older blonde shouts, pounding the door aggressively

you rush and open the door slightly to reveal the frame of a shirtless, messy haired rafe - you could see the slight pop of the veins in his arms and most importantly the bulge in his pants. “what’s taking you so long” you couldn’t miss the slight smirk and teasing tone coating his voice “hm?” he questions again

“uh-j-just” the natural panic was evident in your eyes as they widened and your eyebrow raised like a deer caught in headlights “ just tired”

you couldn’t help the groan that comes out as he enters your room. “raaafe” your whine to stop him falls on deaf ears as he sits on your bed. “please leave” you huff out, just desperate to get back to working your pussy away and get the release you’ve been dying for; he was ruining everything

“c’mon sit” the older cameron pats of his lap, calling you over as if you were his little puppy “raafe please go” you would’ve typically never gave this much attitude to the brooding male, him acknowledging your presence was a once in a lifetime thing

“don’t make me repeat myself” despite his menacing tone his gaze was enchanting, you’ve never understood how someone so beautiful could be so cruel at times.

with a couple of huffs and puffs you find yourself making your way over to the tall blond, making yourself home at one of his legs as the large surface of his palm guided you onto him.you had to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth as your clit rubbed against the front of his leg

it was confusing to say the least - why was he being so nice? but you were just a girl and it was so so so tempting to just lean back into the chest of the older cameron , letting his warmth fill you

you could feel his warm breath fall up on your shoulders, tingling the bottom of your ears “w-what are you doing here” you finally breathe out, finding it impossibly hard to not just rub against his leg

“just wanted to let you know that our rooms are right next to each other” he whispers, it was so oddly sensual and it couldn’t help but make your poor little pussy clench and pulse around nothing. it made your head tumble you shouldn’t feel this way about him; not your new big brother

“i already know tha-” you start but are interrupted by the boy beneath you, eyes looking at you intently while his fingers dance along your waist

“and the walls aren’t as thick as you think, so you know i hear everything”

oh!

you were speechless - quite literally, you opened your mouth to say something and nothing but a small squeak came out and before you know it tears were welling up and your eyes as you were starting to breakdown

“hey hey hey” he rushes to speak, rubbing a what was meant to be soothing arm across the sides of you but only causes you to hide in shame “don’t stress… i came here to tell you that i can y’know help” his fingers making their way down to your thighs, sliding up to cup your pussy “just some lessons”

“what” you didn’t expect your words to come out so harshly, as you look at him with wide curious eyes - could he really?

and that’s how you found yourself legs spread open, with rafe cameron fingers rubbing on your sensitive little clit, one finger slipping into your cunt reaching oh so deep. they had turned less into lesson but more into your older stepbrother straight up fingering you in your bed

“oooooh” you moan out, his finger knuckle deep in your needy little pussy hitting places you couldn’t even imagine “feels so ngh- good” he couldn’t help but stick another finger into your wet cunt watching your head go to complete bliss as it clenches desperately around the length of his fingers while he gently pistons them in and out

“could make you feel like this all the time” he breathes out, his own hard on grinding against the plump of your ass “little sluts like you love it”

the coarse whine that left your mouth signalled your upset as you looked at him wide eyed with your lips pouting. the breathy laugh that leaves him is followed by a soft kiss to the tops of your head “s’kay you’re my little slut”

“i-i ngh- don’t think” you could barely make out words as his fingers speed up to an impossibly fast pace, the coil in your stomach was starting to loosen and oh it felt so good! “w-we should do this agai-” the moan that left your mouth was almost pornographic, heaving loudly as his thumb goes to harshly rub on your clit

“hm and why is that” he teases increasing his pace and pressure, hitting all the right spots - this was so so wrong

“you’re family; you’re my stepbrother” you felt yourself finally get closer, like that ache was finally going to be cured- he must’ve had magic in his fingers with the way he was making you feel

and just as that coil in your stomach was about to unfold, he stops and even with your grinding against him and the endless whimpers he doesn’t continue

“why did you stop?” the question comes out a lot more pathetic than you expected, “well you said it, we shouldn’t be doing this, so i guess i’ll just g-” despite his words he makes no efforts to leave but that doesn’t stop your from whining and holding him tightly

“no no no…. i didn’t mean it” you admit, voice all weak and needy - all you want-no needed was him to fuck you with his fingers all messy and mean, there was no point in trying to hide it

“that’s my girl” the soft kiss is a stark contrast to the rough and nasty pistoning of his fingers, messing up your poor cunt but bringing you closer to your high

“yes yes yes” you thanked god that no one was home tonight as the loud moan left your mouth as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, your high washing over you - leaving you putty in his arms

maybe rafe wasn’t so mean after all

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[wannab3-writer]

Country Club Rivalry

PATRICK ZWEIG X CHILDHOOD FRIEND READER (some Art x reader)

NOTES : GOD, how I tried to make this an Art x Reader because I'm an Art GIRLIE, but Pat just had to come out on top for this one, truly…"

WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread

wc: 5.3k

description:

When three friends work at the same country club, things are bound to get messy—especially when they have a bet about who can win over the reader first.

The Oakridge Country Club was bustling with its usual summer energy. Guests lounged by the pool, chatting under the striped umbrellas, while golf carts zipped along the winding paths. The sun blazed overhead, casting sharp shadows on the clay tennis courts where Patrick and Art were finishing their morning lessons.

You stood at the server station near the patio, jotting down drink orders on your notepad. It wasn't your first summer at the country club, but you still enjoyed the easy rhythm of the job—the way the breeze rustled through the trees, the laughter of kids playing by the pool, and the familiar faces of the regulars.

Patrick waved at you from across the tennis courts, his hair tousled from teaching. He was grinning like he always did when he'd just finished a good session. Art stood beside him, spinning his racket in his hand, looking relaxed and effortlessly charming.

"Hey, how's your section?" Patrick called, jogging over with Art trailing behind. He was wearing his usual tennis gear, white shirt, and shorts, with a blue visor to keep the sun out of his eyes.

"Pretty good," you replied, glancing at your notepad. "Mrs. Anderson is on her third mimosa, so I'm expecting a big tip."

Art laughed. "Better watch out, she's got a mean backhand when she's tipsy. I saw her smack a golf ball into the pond last week. Her caddie still hasn't recovered."

Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic Mrs. Anderson. Did you know she was a tennis champion back in the day? She could probably still give us a run for our money."

Art leaned in, lowering his voice. "Speaking of giving people a run for their money, I heard you've been racking up the tips lately. What's your secret?"

You shrugged with a playful smile. "Just being nice to people, Art. You should try it sometime."

Patrick laughed and nudged Art's shoulder. "Yeah, Art, maybe if you focused less on flirting with every guest and more on your job, you'd make some tips, too."

Art feigned shock. "Me? Flirting? I don't know what you're talking about." He turned to you with a charming grin. "Do you think I'm a flirt?"

You raised an eyebrow. "A little, but that's your thing, right? I mean, it's not like you're betting on who can get the most milfs phone numbers or anything." Clearly sarcastic.

Patrick shot Art a look, then quickly turned to you with a smile. "Yeah, nothing like that. We just... like to keep things interesting."

Art nodded, but you noticed a brief flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was subtle, but it made you wonder if there was more to their competition than met the eye.

"Well, whatever it is, just don't bring any drama into my section, okay?" you said, playfully tapping your notepad against Art's chest. "I've got enough to deal with without you two causing trouble."

Patrick raised his hands in mock surrender. "No drama, I promise. We'll be on our best behavior."

Art winked. "Scout's honor."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile. Despite the teasing and the occasional competitive streak, you knew they meant well. It was just another summer at the country club, where the days were long, the sun was hot, and anything could happen.

Anything.

---

The Club had settled into its evening rhythm by the time you reached the bar. Fairy lights twinkled overhead, casting soft glimmers on the stone patio. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass. A live band played classic rock covers, the gentle strum of guitars mingling with the murmur of patrons relaxing after a day of golf and tennis.

Patrick was at a corner table, nursing a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He looked up from his phone and waved you over, a broad smile lighting up his face. He'd changed out of his tennis instructor uniform into a casual blue polo and jeans, his hair still damp from a quick shower.

"Hey, there you are!" he said, using his foot to pull out a chair for you. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."

You shook your head with a grin. "Please, I could hear your bad jokes all the way from the kitchen. Had to come and see what was so funny."

Patrick laughed, setting his phone aside. "You know I'm hilarious. You just pretend not to appreciate my sense of humor."

You took a seat and glanced around. The bar was lively but not overcrowded. A group of older couples was playing cards at a nearby table, and a few teenagers from the tennis program were playing darts in the corner. It felt like the perfect end to a busy day.

"So, what are we drinking tonight?" Patrick asked, gesturing to the menu. "I've got whiskey, but I hear the margaritas are pretty good."

You considered for a moment. "Let's go with the margaritas. I need something fruity after today."

Patrick flagged down the bartender, who quickly mixed up a pitcher of margaritas with a generous splash of tequila. He poured you a glass and handed it over with a mock bow. "Your drink, my liege. May it bring you all the fruitiness you desire."

You raised your glass with a chuckle. "Thank you, William,” you turn towards the brunet “To Patrick, who somehow managed not to break any tennis rackets today. It's a new record!"

Patrick clinked his whiskey against your glass. "And to you, for not spilling any drinks on Mrs. Anderson. She's still mad about last summer's 'mimosa incident.'"

You rolled your eyes, remembering the time you accidentally spilled a tray of drinks on Mrs. Anderson's white dress during a particularly hectic brunch. "Don't remind me. I had to run for cover like I was in a war zone. I thought she’d have my head.”

Patrick laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "You should've seen her face. It was like you'd ruined her entire day. But hey, at least you got to keep your job."

As the two of you shared stories and relived old memories, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the patio. The band transitioned to a slower song, adding a mellow vibe to the evening.

Art arrived a little later, his tennis gear replaced by a button-down snap back and jeans. He had a confident stride and a smile that seemed to draw attention wherever he went. He slid into the seat next to you, his presence bringing a shift in the energy at the table.

"What's up, party people?" he said, his voice smooth and inviting. "I hope you saved some margaritas for me."

Patrick handed him a glass. "Of course, wouldn't want our little Arty to feel left out.”  He added leaning into Art smirking. “What took you so long anyways,  Shelly needed some one-on-one time to work on her underhand? Or what. ”

You smirked. "You really think He’s that charming, huh?” she turns towards Art looking into his eyes “What’s your secret hmm? Is it the cologne?"

Art leaned in with a grin. "It's all about confidence. And maybe a little bit of cologne. But mostly confidence."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Right, because confidence is what you exude. You should've seen Art on the tennis court today. He was so confident he almost hit a kid with a tennis ball."

Art raised an eyebrow. "Almost. That's the key word. No harm, no foul."

The banter continued, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm. Art's charm contrasted with Patrick's laid-back, cheeky style, and you found yourself enjoying the playful back-and-forth.

As the evening progressed, you noticed Patrick watching Art with a hint of unease. It was subtle, like a flicker in his eyes whenever Art made you laugh a little too hard or leaned in a little too close.

---

"All right, we're here. Try not to break anything, okay? Last time you were here, my mom couldn't find her favorite vase for a week."

Art smirked, stepping inside. "That wasn't my fault! How was I supposed to know it was on top of the fridge? Who puts a vase on the fridge, anyway?"

Art dropped his bag in his Patrick’s room and looked around. The place had an eclectic charm—walls lined with tennis trophies, faded concert posters, and family photos. A stack of video games sat beside the TV.

Patrick led the way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. He tossed one to Art, who caught it with ease. "So, what are you in the mood for? I was thinking pizza, but we can order something else if you're not into it."

Art popped open the bear and took a sip. "Pizza sounds good. Just no anchovies, okay? That stuff is nasty."

Patrick laughed, opening his own soda. "You're missing out, man. Anchovies are a delicacy." He grabbed the phone and dialed the pizza place, ordering a large with pepperoni and sausage. "There, something a bit more your speed. Happy now?"

Art nodded, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, that'll work. So, you ready for tomorrow? Two-on-two is serious business. We can't afford to slack off."

Patrick waved a hand dismissively. "Please, I'm always ready. Besides, we've got the advantage. I mean, have you seen the other teams? Half of them can't even hit a backhand."

Art chuckled. "You're so modest, Patrick. What would you do without me to keep you humble?"

Patrick shrugged with a grin. "Probably win more matches.”

Art threw a punch at Patrick's shoulder, and Patrick pretended to wince. They both laughed, the kind of easy camaraderie that came from years of friendship and shared jokes. But there was also a subtle tension in the air, like they were both aware of the unspoken rivalry that had been growing between them.

"So," Patrick said, leaning back against the kitchen island, biting his lip "you and […] seemed pretty chummy tonight. What's the story there? You trying to make a move, or what?" The familiar smirk making its way to his face.

Art raised an eyebrow, his expression guarded. "We're just talking. Nothing wrong with getting to know someone, right?" He finished wetting his lips.

Patrick smirked. "Sure, nothing wrong with that.” He shrugged.  “But you're not just getting to know her. You're flirting, and we both know it." He took a couple steps forward “Basically eye fucking her, to be honest” He only smiled.

Art shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Oh, come on Pat, maybe, She's just fun to be around, you know. No need to be gross." Art gave him a wry smile. "You know me. I just go with the flow. If she likes hanging out with me, who am I to complain?"

Patrick leaned in, lowering his voice. "Or maybe, you think she's interested in you. Is that what this is about? You think you've got a shot?" His eyes scanning arts face.

Art met his gaze, his expression calm but with a hint of challenge. "I don't know, man. Maybe I do. What does it matter to you huh? You think you've got the inside track because you've known her longer?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I mean, it doesn't hurt. We've got a lot of history. I'm charming, good-looking, and I've got the best jokes. What's not to like?" he goes back to lean on the counter. “Besides, I’ve seen the real her, all of it, kinda gives me a little advantage don’t you think.”

Art halts, stops chewing his gum, straitening himself up. “What’s that supposed to mean Patrick.”

“Exactly what it you think.” He kissed his teeth, kicking off the counter and going back to looking inside the fridge.

Art chuckled, but there was a hint of envy in his laugh. "Well, if you're so confident, maybe we should make it interesting. How about a little bet? See who can win her over first?"

Patrick waved his hand dismissively. "Little Arty wants a bet he’ll lose?” He chuckles. “No games. Just a simple bet. May the best man win."

Art held out his hand, and Patrick shook it with a grin. The bet was sealed, but there was an underlying seriousness in Art's eyes. As they waited for the pizza, the two friends continued their banter, but there was a new edge to their jokes—like the stakes had just gotten a little higher.

---

A week after their doubles match, the annual Oakridge Country Club gala was in full swing, the ballroom bustling with elegantly dressed members and guests. The chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting warm light onto the neatly set tables, while smooth jazz played in the background. You stood near the entrance, surveying the glamorous crowd, your fitted dress drawing approving glances from a few partygoers.

Art was the first to spot you, leaning against a wall with a cocktail in hand, chatting up club regulars. He was dressed in a sharp suit, but he carried himself with a boyish charm. His grin was wide as he motioned for you to come over, his eyes moving from your head to your heels in a way that felt like a visual undressing.

"Wow," he said, raising his glass, "you clean up nice. I was expecting you to show up in your waiter outfit or something. I'm glad you went with the dress, though. Much more... appealing."

You gave him a playful smirk, stepping up to the bar. "Thanks, Art. I do my best to impress." You glanced at his drink. "Are you trying to get a head start on the partying? We haven't even hit the dance floor yet."

He took a sip, his gaze lingering on your lips. "Hey, I like to loosen up a bit before the main event. Keeps things interesting. Besides, you can't blame a guy for wanting to enjoy himself, right? You gonna  help me enjoy my night and keep me company?"

Patrick, who was laughing with a group nearby, walked over just in time to catch Art’s comment. He gave Art a look of mild disapproval, then turned to you with a sly smile.

"Don't listen to him. He's just trying to get you alone so he can talk your ear off about his latest tennis game.” Patrick shrugged, looking at Art with a smirk. "So boring. I was thinking we could have some real fun; you know? A little adventure never hurt anyone." He leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the music. "Besides, I know all the best spots around here. Private spots. You'd love it."

Art shook his head, clearly not amused. "Come on, Patrick. We're here to enjoy the gala, not to sneak off like we're in high school. Why don't we all just enjoy the party and see what happens?"

Patrick grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Art. But if you change your mind,” he turn towards her. “You know where to find me. I'll be the one having a good time." He turned to you with a suggestive wink while walking backwards to god knows where.

Art rolled his eyes, then smiled at you in a more relaxed manner. "Sorry about him, he’s not really allowed to leave the house. He's a good guy, but he doesn't always know when to tone it down. If you want, I can keep him from getting too out of hand. I wouldn't want him to scare you off." He says mocking Patrick as he walked away.

You laugh full heartedly glancing at Patrick, who was already chatting with a couple of other guests, his flirtatious demeanor on full display. " Thanks so for watching out for me. It can get a little overwhelming with him around." You continued smiling.

Art nodded smiling, his expression kind. " I was thinking we could get some food, maybe hit the dance floor. What do you think?" Art suggested, leading the way. "I'm sure Patrick will join us once he's done charming the entire room."

Patrick shot Art a mischievous look but didn't follow immediately. You could tell he was reveling in the attention, his flirtatious behavior attracting more than a few curious glances from the other guests.

The band switched to a slow, romantic melody, and Art extended his hand to you with a charming smile. "Care to dance?" he asked, his eyes warm and inviting.

You nodded, accepting his offer, and he led you onto the dance floor. His touch was gentle yet confident as he pulled you close, swaying to the music with practiced ease.

As you danced with Art, you felt yourself relaxing into his embrace. His presence was comforting, his movements smooth and graceful. You couldn't help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling a somewhat new sense of closeness.

Halfway through the song, Patrick appeared out of nowhere, a cocky grin on his lips. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Before you could respond, he swept you away from Art, taking you into his arms with a boldness that made you some type of way. His touch was hot, his body pressed close to yours as he guided you across the dance floor.

"So, you replacing your best friend with that ginger?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive. "Boring you to tears yet?" He raised a brow.

You laughed, unable to resist his playfulness. "Hmm maybe. He's actually a great dancer, unlike some people."

Patrick smirked, pulling you even closer. "Yeah, but can he do this?" With a sudden flourish, he spun you around, his movements fluid and confident. "Do I need to remind you why I’m better.” He paused.

“How, I’m better.”

You chuckled rolling your eyes, enjoying the thrill of dancing with Patrick. He was unpredictable, to say the least, his smile contagious. But as much as you were drawn to him, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for leaving Art behind.

Patrick reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and offering you one with a sly grin. "Care for a smoke?" he asked, lighting his own with practiced ease.

You just shook your head with hesitant smile. “I really shouldn’t, Pat. You know I’m trying to quit.”

He looks you up and down with a seductive look.  

“We’ve all got our guilty pleasures, darling.”

As the song came to an end, Patrick took your hand, leading you away from the dance floor and out onto the club’s private beach. The cool breeze off the ocean felt refreshing against your skin, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing.

You hesitated for a moment, then accepted the offer, taking the cigarette from him and inhaling deeply. The nicotine hit you like a rush of adrenaline, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air.

"So, what do you think?" Patrick asked, his eyes searching yours. "Having fun yet?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of liberation wash over you. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for... you know, stealing me away." You added motioning to the cigarette.

Patrick grinned, leaning in closer. "Anytime, sweetheart. Just say the word, and I'll whisk you away to paradise."

You laughed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

Patrick decided to sit down in the sand, his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. You sat beside him, savoring the familiar scent of his cologne.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, then shot you a sidelong glance. "You know, I was just thinking about that first summer at tennis camp," he said, his voice low and playful. "I mean, it's where it all started, right? Just a couple of kids swinging rackets and making trouble."

You smiled at the memory. "Yeah, it's crazy to think about how much has changed since then. Who would've thought you'd actually make it big in tennis? Meanwhile, I could barely keep the ball on the court."

Patrick laughed, a warm, hearty sound that cut through the night air. "Yeah, well, I guess I had a little more motivation to stick with it. You were off climbing trees and playing in the woods, and I was stuck with a bunch of coaches yelling at me to hit harder."

"Hey," you replied with a smirk, "it's not like I was useless. I remember showing you all the best spots to hide when you wanted to skip practice."

Patrick nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I remember. You were the queen of avoiding responsibility. If it weren't for you, I'd probably have become a strait-laced tennis prodigy. Instead, you dragged me into the wilderness to make forts and find weird bugs."

You both chuckled, reminiscing about those lazy summer days when tennis camp was more of a suggestion than a requirement. But then Patrick's expression turned sly, and he leaned in a bit closer.

"Speaking of weird things from our past," he said, his voice dripping with playful insinuation, he nudged you. "You remember that bet we made? The one about if we were both green by the time you turned 16, we'd, you know, be each other's first?"

Your face grew warm at the memory. It had been a silly bet between two best friends who figured they'd never find anyone else in their small circle. But the fact that you followed through with it made it more than just a joke.

"Yeah," you replied, pretending to be nonchalant, "I remember, Pat we’re not that old. It was a dumb bet, but I guess we kept our word, didn't we?"

Patrick nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his lips. "We sure did. And you know, I wasn't expecting it to be so... memorable. I thought we'd just laugh about it later, but it was kind of nice. You know, like a rite of passage or something."

You laughed, trying to deflect his innuendo. "A rite of passage? Yeah, right. More like a hilarious disaster. I mean, you had no idea what you were doing."

Patrick raised an eyebrow, his grin growing wider. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad. Besides, you were just as clueless. At least I managed to keep my cool, mostly."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile at his cockiness. "Mostly, huh? If I remember correctly, you tripped over your own shoes and nearly fell face first."

Patrick groaned, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Okay, maybe I was a little clumsy. But you have to admit, it was an experience neither of us will forget. And hey, we did it together. That's gotta count for something, right?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of nostalgia and fondness. "Yeah, it does. I'm just glad it didn't ruin our friendship. It could've been awkward, but it wasn't."

Patrick leaned in, his gaze locking with yours. "Of course it wasn't. We were best friends. We still are. And besides, even if it was a bit awkward, it was worth it. You know, just to say we did it." He flicked the ash from his cigarette, then added with a wink, "And hey, I was your first. That's something not everyone can say."

You laughed, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head. You still have a long way to go before you become a pro. But if you need any advice on how to avoid tripping over your own shoes, I'm here for you."

Patrick grinned, taking a final drag from his cigarette before tossing it into the sand. " If you ever want to make another bet, I'm always up for it. " He Looks at you seductively, his eyes full of mischief. " I think if you were to give me another chance, you’d find that I’ve improved quite a bit. " He gives you his signature smirk.

You scan his face trying to find sincerity in his words, not sure how you’d feel if he was. “What are you trying to get at Patrick?”

“Nothing at all.” He raised his hands in a surrender, cigarette in mouth looking away. “I’m just saying, I feel like I deserve a redemption arc,” He takes his cigarette putting out in the sand. “I wasn’t the most…giving you can say.” He looks back at you, under his brows. “And I just want to show you that I’ve changed, for the better.” He offers a smile.

You just nod your head in fake agreement. “Uhh, how much have you had to drink tonight pat?  Is it time to call you a cab?” You questioned with a week smile.  

“Oh, shut up, I’m dead sober.”  He said leaning in.  He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Besides, what's life without a little adventure?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. It was a simple gesture, but there was something in the way he did it that made your heart skip a beat. Patrick had always had a way of pushing boundaries, but tonight, he seemed more deliberate, more intent.

"Adventure?" you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Are you planning something?"

Patrick's smile grew, his eyes locking with yours. "Maybe. But you know me—always full of surprises." He stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on your waist. "But I promise, it'll be a good one."

You felt a rush of heat at his touch, the closeness between you stirring something deep within. Patrick leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. "So, do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "No I don’t, Patrick, because I know you. Why? What are you up to?"

Patrick's gaze grew more intense, his eyes fixed on yours. "I just wanted to try something." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through you.

The kiss deepened, the heat between you building as Patrick pulled you closer. His hand slid around your waist, holding you firmly as he kissed you with a newfound intensity. The sound of the waves seemed to fade away, replaced by the pounding of your own heart.

Patrick's other hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet assertive. His kiss was slow and deliberate, each movement a carefully orchestrated dance that left you breathless. As his lips moved against yours, you felt a rush of desire, a connection that seemed to transcend words.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with emotion. He looked at you, his lips slightly parted, as if he was trying to read your thoughts.

“Show me.” You said looking him deep in his eyes barley a millimetre away from his lips.

“Show you what darling?” He question with a smile gracing his lips

“How you’re better than Art.”

That’s not what he was expecting at all. Maybe a ‘show me how you’ve improved.’ But certainly not you using his own words against him, That’s for sure.

That didn’t stop Patrick's smile from getting bigger though, as he moved his hands all over you, bringing you in for another wet and sloppy kiss. He slowly laid you down into the sand using his teeth to slide up your dress around your waits.

He slowly kissed your stomach stopping at the hem of your thong. Moving it to the side, he slides one of his digits up and down your slit.

Looking up to you with a sly smile, he lets out a contented sigh. " Give me some of this sweet pussy." With the excited flattening of his tongue, he dives right in, right there, on the beach. Before you even having a chance to fully lay down, Patrick slides his arms beneath your legs and pulls you in. 

As you begin to grind into him and yearn for more of his tongue, you play with one of your tits. Suddenly too shy to look him in the eye, you reach down and tug on his hair. You can feel your cheeks getting hot with shame at how quickly you folded for him.   “Tongue fuck me, please, Pat. When did you get so good at this?”

 he consumes you. his hands are playing with your ass and thighs. He kneads the skin and spreading you out. He trust his tongue into your entrance and explores your pussy.  Less than a minute later, your walls start to twitch around his tongue. He takes in all your cum. When he looks up back at you, he just gives you a sly smirk. 

Patrick rolled onto his back beside you, his chest heaving slightly from the intensity of what just happened. You try to get your breathing back to normal when suddenly you let out a random laugh.

Patrick turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "What's so funny?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, but his face still wet from your essence.

You shrugged, trying to stifle your laughter. "I don't know, it just hit me—how did we end up here? One minute we're at the gala, and the next we're... well, doing this." You gestured at the beach, and your unruly appearance.

Patrick grinned, rolling onto his side to face you. "Maybe it's fate," he said, his voice soft and playful. "Or maybe it's just because I couldn't resist pulling you away for a little... private time." He winked, his cheeky grin only growing wider.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest. "Or maybe it’s because you and Art have a weird little bet going on, and for some reason, I’m in the middle of it." you replied, a teasing edge to your tone.

Patrick frowns sitting up to look at you properly. " You know about that?" He’s confused.

You let out a chuckle. "Patrick, I’m not a dumbass, like i said, i know you. And i know Art, you guys have been total try hards for the last week, sure, you’re just a whore and will flirt with anything that has a vagina, but even Art was over doing it." You swatted at his shoulder, trying to hide your smile. "Patrick, seriously," you said, though your tone lacked any real reprimand. "You always push your luck, you know that?  You leaned in a little closer, your eyes locking with his.

Patrick's grin softened, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Yeah, well, sometimes you need a little excitement," he replied, his hand resting on your hip, a gentle reminder of his presence. "And you can't deny that you like it when I take charge. Right?" His fingers traced a light pattern along your hipbone, his touch both playful and suggestive.

You sighed, the subtle tension between you becoming more palpable. "Maybe," you replied, your voice low and teasing. "But don't think I'll always let you get away with it. Sometimes, you need to earn it."

Patrick laughed, a deep, rich sound that seemed to carry on the breeze. "Oh, don't worry," he said, his eyes narrowing with that familiar mischievous look. "I'll work for it. You just let me know when you want me to turn on the charm." He leaned in again, his lips hovering near yours, the warmth of his breath a tantalizing invitation.

You closed the gap, letting his lips meet yours in a brief, soft kiss. It was playful but laced with an underlying intensity, a promise of more to come. When you pulled back, you saw the surprise in his eyes, followed by that trademark grin.

"Consider it a preview," you said, giving him a gentle nudge. "But don't get too cocky, or I’ll make sure you lose this bet."

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

Thank you for reading! Please leave comments, likes, and reblogs; all are appreciated! Also, feel free to send requests!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi!

I have a question if i may?

What are some kinks that seem harmless but aren't?

Because a while back I heard that there is the potential to royally screw up if you pull someones hair and i absolutely did not expect that. So now i am curious if there are more kinks like this.

Thx in advance!

hi anon,

god I was so afraid that this was going to be a question asking me to name which kinks are actually morally wrong and inexcusable and if that was the case I was going to have to eat your head off your body, so I'm really glad that this is just a solid good question instead!

the short answer: potentially any of them.

the longer answer: potentially any of them. even the most vanilla sexual practices have the capacity for someone to get hurt if participants aren't careful; please consider all of the "broken hymens" that are actually just vaginal tearing as a result of people with no prior experience not using enough lubricant to have sex comfortably.

once you start adding more complicated actions and accessories into the mix, obviously the potential for injury increases exponentially. hair pulling, biting, scratching, slapping and other forms of impact play, bondage, breath play, primal play, anything involving bodily fluids, playing with fire or electricity or knives - all of that stuff can get you hurt, no matter how knowledgeable and careful you and your partner(s) are. even activities that might take place mostly with words and the imagination, like roleplay and denigration, can cause emotional harm if people's wires get crossed.

this is one of the big reasons why many folks involved in kink have shed the classic SSC (safe, sane, and consensual) in favor of risk aware consensual kink, or rack. the inclusion of the word "safe" may be setting some misleading expectations, so that's been cycled in in favor of "risk aware," meaning participants are expected to be made fully aware of everything that could potentially go wrong so that they can give the most informed consent possible and, hopefully, make plans with their partner(s) for what to do if the worst does come. (many sex educators have pivoted from talking about "safe sex" to "safer" or "protected" sex for similar reasons, as a reminder that things can always go wrong and few forms of protection are guaranteed to work perfectly every time.)

the inherent risk is one of the biggest reasons why it's so important that the kink community has flourishing spaces to meet up, attend workshops and demos, and otherwise learn from more experienced folks who can teach interested newbies the rope (as it were) and help them play as safely as possible.

[mockerycrow]

are you good at character analysis? I wanna know what your analysis would be for Gaz, I’m trying to figure out his story since he’s my favorite out of TF 141

KYLE GAZ GARRICK

BASIC OVERVIEW — BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick is a British Black man who enlisted into the British Army around 2008 or 2014 (unfortunately, the developers have inconsistencies). His operator biography states 2008 while the official activision website in a blog post about MW2019 states 2014, however it does make sense for him to enlist in 2008. He would have been at least sixteen years old which is the minimum age requirement to enlist. I would like to quickly throw in that Gaz is indeed older than Soap, as this is a misconception that I surprisingly see a lot! Gaz’s blood type is B- and he currently ranks as sergeant (which according to the official British Army website, it typically takes at least twelve years in the service, however it implies it also depends on the person’s abilities).

Gaz spent four years in the Queen’s Lancashire Regiment. During these four years going through a multitude of tests and challenges before passing selection for Special Air Service (SAS). The activision blog says during MW2019, it’s his sixth year serving as a sergeant. However, as Gaz had been selected for TF141, I believe their ranks have paused in time. Gaz has mostly spent his time in anti-terrorism in his military career. He’s an expert in demolitions, VIP escorting, weapons tactics, covert surveillance, and target elimination. He’s been awarded multiple medals, and earned his Parachute Wings whilst spending time at Camp Lejeune in the U.S. whilst collaborating with Navy SEALs. Kyle is a master of evasion and deception, being the only candidate in his entire class to escape capture from the facility and evade detection during resistance training. 

When Gaz first meets Cpt. Price, Gaz is currently assigned to an SAS specific counter-terrorism program in the UK who collaborate with the police, which is another misconception that Gaz was a police sergeant at one point (he was not! I believe some people think this because at E3, Gaz was wearing a police baseball cap).

CHARACTER OVERVIEW

Like true to the original Gaz, he is Price’s protege, being his student. Gaz is overall a serious and hardworking man, loyal and unbreaking. He knows when to joke and he knows when to reload. However, Gaz is not perfect and he does lose his cool (we see subtle development with this later down the road). While being loyal, Gaz does not hesitate to question Price’s choices and actions. We see this multiple times during the series, the most prime example being in MW2019 when Price and Gaz are interrogating The Butcher with Yegor. The Butcher taunts Gaz, causing Gaz to lunge and Price to send him off to fetch.. “The package”. The package being, The Butcher’s family. The reboot games, you have choices, so I’ll give the very basic run down. 

You have the option to opt into the interrogation or to opt out of it. If you opt out, Price bursts out of the room with the information (if you go near the door, you hear The Butcher’s family sobbing). If you opt in, you have so many options. At the end of the day, Gaz is mostly silent and follows orders from Price. In the police cruiser scene, Gaz questions Price in the car—he did not expect to be using women and children as bargaining chips and he makes that clear, and this is a big teaching moment between Gaz and Price. We have to remember that Gaz is young and considering everything, inexperienced to an extent. Price makes up for that inexperience, teaching him along the way. During the interrogation scene, Price makes a remark: “We’ve taken the gloves off.” This is because Gaz lashed out. Later in the car, Price says “When you take the gloves off, you get blood on your hands, Kyle. That’s how it works.” after Gaz questions him.

CONCLUSION

Overall, Gaz is a very complex character and I enjoyed watching his development during these games. I’ve seen people claim Gaz is boring or plain, but I genuinely do not believe that to be the case. Gaz, in my opinion, is also the most relatable character. He’s young, ambitious, and determined. He’s charismatic and efficient. I don’t believe a character has to be extremely traumatized, or look very very unique to be a well-crafted character and Gaz is a great example for this. 

Gaz is just a man who enlisted; someone who is smart and well-rounded (as much as an SAS member can be), he’s quick on his feet and he molds into group work fantastically. He’s extremely versatile and is a quick learner—and wants to learn. He has his flaws that make him human. Gaz develops great self control, is level-minded and is able to think for himself. A great student questions their mentor in everything and you see this with Gaz. 

You see Gaz struggle with morality in the series in a sea of characters who kill and do things without a second thought. We see him question things, we see his emotions and his extreme reluctance. We definitely see some development down the road as Gaz becomes more ruthless, but he never quite forgets his humanity in a way, compared to Price where he can easily disconnect humanity (ex. Calling The Butcher’s wife and son “the package/leverage”). 

Along with this, we see him struggle with the rules in place. I also think this is why Gaz and Price’s dynamic is great. There are rules for a reason, and both Price and Gaz know when to break them—but Gaz learns that breaking some rules doesn’t always happen for the most heroic of actions (again, Price’s quote about bloodying your hands after taking the gloves off). Gaz wants to save people and keep the peace, we see this in Piccadilly during the terrorist attacks and the aftermath scene with Price where Gaz lets the Captain know that he and his unit had actionable intel on the terrorist cell who committed the act. Of course, we see later down the road that taking the gloves off removes all limits, not just some of them. We also see a glimpse of Gaz’s conflicting feelings when 141, Farah & Alex, as well as Laswell learn about Hadir and his plans, as well as when Farah’s forces are deemed a terrorist organization.

I think I rambled on a lot about him, hopefully this is understandable! 

Sources: price & gaz activision blog intros (2019), inconsistency in enlistment date, cod fandom wiki, gaz scenes mwi & mwii, official british army website.

[intuitively-her]

(Knight of pentacles, 6 of wands, 5 of swords rx, Queen of swords rx, Strength rx, 10 of wands, The Lovers rx, The Moon, 8 of swords rx, Judgement)

You're taking your power back and making your dreams come true. This year will be very rewarding for you. You've been putting in endless work, and your spirit guides/ancestors can see this. You will allow yourself to be more vulnerable and ask others for help, especially at work. You're putting your ego to rest and doing what's needed for you. Someone here may start going to therapy. You're finally starting to realize that you don't have to carry life's burdens on your own. You're leaving behind petty issues and distractions that have been holding you back. Self-love is the theme for you this year. Doing less of what you want, and more of what you need. You will spend more time discovering yourself and figuring out what you truly want out of a relationship. This year, you will step into your divine feminine/masculine energy and become a softer version of yourself.

☎️Angel messages: Helpful people, Opportunity, Get more information

(Knight of wands, Knight of pentacles, Knight of cups, The Magician, 5 of wands, Death rx, 8 of wands rx, 6 of cups)

This year, you'll be living large and taking charge! You're going after what you want. Someone here will start a new job soon. Or you're switching career fields. This is the perfect time. You could be starting a new project, or you're finishing one. Expect a successful outcome from this. Someone here could have an online business, or you could be a content creator. This year will push you out of your comfort zone in so many ways. Someone here will take a solo trip somewhere. I heard "bungee jumping" lol. Someone here will have to do a public speech for a big event, or a performance. You will put yourself out into the dating world again. I see you having fun on dates and not taking anything too seriously. This year is going to make you slow down and live in the moment.

☎️Angel messages: Caution is warranted. Look deeper into this situation before pertaining further. Yoga and exercise are essential to your well-being, peace of mind, and spiritual growth at this time. You have a special bond with animals. Your pets on Earth and in heaven are watched over by angles.

(Queen of pentacles, 10 of pentacles, Queen of swords, Page of swords, 6 of cups, The Emperor, Ace of swords, 7 of swords, Judgement rx)

This year will be very abundant. There's a lot of big wins in store for you. Someone here is getting a promotion at work. You should play the lottery more often this year. Luck is on your side. Someone here could be getting their own apartment/house. Or you could be redecorating your home. You're finally receiving what you've envisioned and dreamed for. Someone here creates vision boards to help them manifest. You will tend to your inner child a lot more this year. Doing the things that you've always wanted to do. Someone will go to an amusement park. Or you've been wanting to. It would benefit you to reflect on your childhood and do some of the things that you did for fun back then. Arts and crafts? Scrapbooking? You might make a drastic change to your appearance this year. I see someone here changing their style completely. New hair/makeup? This year will teach you to stand up for yourself and what you believe in. Be careful not to self-sabotage a good opportunity for yourself. Know that you deserve good things!

☎️Angel messages: Trust, Big & Happy changes, Ask for help from others

(The Sun, 3 of wands rx, 3 of cups rx, King of wands rx, Ace of swords, 7 of cups rx, The Fool, 2 of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, The Star)

This year will be a reality check. It seems like you've been feeling unmotivated, or you're not as productive as you could be. There will be some obstacles and disruptions thrown at you this year. This is all to make you see the bigger picture in situations. For some, you can be naive at times, and this causes you to set impossible expectations for yourself/others. And then when those expectations can't be met, you act like it's the end of the world. That needs to change.🤷🏽‍♀️ You will spend more time alone this year. This is needed for your growth. You'll learn to balance your life and become more adaptable to new ways of being. Heavy on the self-improvement. This year is going to test your faith in many ways. Someone here will start a diet routine or get back into the gym. Someone here could be working on starting a new business. Family business? You will gain more recognition as the year goes on. The more you focus on yourself and mind your business, the more attention you gain from others.

☎️Angel messages: Forgiveness, Reconsider, Communicate clearly, Recovery

💗Please DO NOT repost, copy, or steal my work. Thanks!💗

[ssivinee]

✧Troubled Thoughts✧

BEBE! Bada Lee x Red Velvet! F Reader: As a beloved idol and actress, you had many eyes on you. Yet your eyes were only settled on one person, Bada. The dancer was never one to cause issues with you, but here you were, guesting as a judge on SWF with a not-so-happy look.

Word Count: 1.8k

Note: Hit u guys with two small fics BOOM. This one is barely proof read... i got a bit lazy.

Being an idol in the kpop industry is no easy feat - it’s a gruesome battle just to debut. Yet your fight doesn’t stop there, and it continues after your first stages, fighting to stay at the top with other competing bands. Luckily, you were fortunate enough to be a part of SM’s stop-girl group of the third generation, Red Velvet.

You, Park Y/n, were the sub-vocal, main rapper, and main dancer along with Seulgi. You were also the second oldest among the women. At 30 years old, you were basically the girl's mother, with Irene. Now, being a part of a group that doesn’t put their hardcore focus on group choreography meant you didn’t have many opportunities to work with many choreographers in Korea. 

Thankfully, being completely infatuated with dance also got you far in the dancing industry. Many dancers and choreographers were big fans, but it was the same for you. So when you learned Bada Lee would begin teaching pieces for Aespa and NCT, you couldn’t pass the opportunity to meet the dancer. 

You approached her in the practice room where Aespa resided for their Illusion comeback. Truthfully, you were only there to give the girls some drinks like you usually did, but you learned Bada would be there. Ningning had informed you, so you bought an extra drink, believing this was the perfect opportunity.

Bada wasn’t expecting your appearance, but when you walked in wearing some grey flared leggings, a white spaghetti-strapped tank top, and a purple cropped sweater, you looked like the most majestic being in the world. When you greeted the tall woman, she couldn’t even let a peep out until Winter poked fun at her teacher. “Oo~ Bada-saem, see something you like?”

The dancer blushes, a giggle coming out of you from the reaction. You notice Bada’s hesitant nature during the first few meetings, but she slowly warmed up, even getting bold with each interaction. Eventually, Bada decided to ask you out, and after a few dates, she officially asked you to be her girlfriend. However, there were a few issues, and things were slowly getting to Bada’s mental.

You were both aware that Korea had been progressing, but that didn’t mean it was happening fast enough or had a major impact on the lgbtq+ community. It felt suffocating on both ends, but you two could endure it since you liked being private anyway. The next issue was when you two were extremely busy, but those fights usually ended quite easily, as it was understandable that both of you had packed schedules.

Now, Bada’s biggest problem was your acting debut, specifically your partners on certain projects. Since Red Velvet slowed down with promotions and releases, members began to do their own thing. You, Joy, and Yeri began to take up acting gigs more often. Bada wasn’t one to get jealous easily; you were an attractive idol in the industry, and she was aware the multiple idols AND actors had already tried competing for your heart, but one was worse than the rest.

Cha Eunwoo.

The idol who steals every girl’s heart with just one glance, and has made waves in the acting industry, was the only pain in the ass Bada had. The idol had been wanting to make a move on you even before you and Bada became official, but Bada had gotten to you first. Since the relationship is kept under wraps, Eunwoo never stops trying. Bada felt like the only way to put her mind at ease was for you to distance yourself as a friend, which you obliged, feeling as if it was the right decision for the sake of your relationship.

But then your next big project hit your desk, and you realized the issues this would bring. You were proposed a lead role in a drama and accepted it instantly, feeling like it would be a hit. Then, your manager informed you that your partner would be Eunwoo the following week, which made your heart drop. You knew Bada would have an issue with this and wanted to tell her ASAP, but you were overjoyed by better news.

To help promote yourself before the drama, you would guest as a Street Woman Fighter 2 judge. You were going to tell Bada the news the next time you saw her, which would ironically be the night before the SWF shoot, but you weren’t mindful that the press release of your new drama would be out tonight. So before you could even greet your girlfriend with a hug, kiss, or even a simple hello, she just bursts out at you, fuming with anger.

“So you weren’t even gonna tell me about you and Eunwoo?” Bada scowls, a condescending tone being used on you. “I was going to tell you, but I had some other news first,” you say calmly, trying to defend yourself. You never liked arguments, even if it felt like you were in the right. 

As the second oldest of Red Velvet, you were used to being the moderator of the younger girls, usually preferring to talk it out when everyone was level-headed. So this was pissing you off, especially since Bada knew how you were. “The OTHER NEWS is more important than this babe? Really?” Frankly, you understood her resentful tone, “You’re right, but my brain got occupied with this news-”

“I don’t care about the fucking news,” Bada cuts you off, raising in pitch. You were compassionate, so you wanted to let her know that you didn’t mean any harm since you would tell her anyway, but you never did well when being cut off. That was strike one for Bada.

“Look, I get your angry, and you don’t like Eunwoo, but it’s just for work, Bada. Strictly professionalism.” You try to reason, but she scoffs; a look of aggravation can be seen in her eyes, “You should’ve turned down the fucking role!” Now, you add cursing onto the list, strike two.

“You know we shouldn’t let personal feelings affect work. I don’t do that when you dance with other people I’m not fond of!”

“Cause that’s my job!” She yells, and you scoff at the ironic comment.

“Well, that’s part of my job too! Is your job more important than my own now?” You argue, and Bada rolls her eyes, “That’s bullshit, Y-” Before she could finish, you exited your chair and began packing your things. Invalidating your side of the story was strike three, and you had enough as your disappointments racked up in your mind.

Frustrated, you snapped at Bada, saying, "Talk to me when you have your act together," before storming out of the apartment, leaving the tension hanging in the air. That’s when Bada felt the weight of her actions, but with her pride, she wouldn’t give in to the fact that she may have gone a bit overboard. In her mind, you were COMPLETELY in the wrong for not telling her instantly.

So the next day, the surprise in store for her would have her facing several emotions throughout the stressful day. While on the set of SWF, you walked into the venue, a whirlwind of emotions still stirring within you. While you weren't inclined to hold grudges, you couldn't help but remain genuinely perturbed by the argument, and rightfully so. So, just being in the same building as her made you want to hit something just to release this pent-up anger.

When you enter the fight zone, Bada’s eyes grow in surprise, not anticipating you being a guest. Maybe she would've been more prepared if she weren’t fighting you yesterday. Team Bebe was aware of you two being together, but Lusher was the only one who caught wind of the weird energy her leader was showing. “Unnie? You okay?” the younger girl mumbles, doing her best not to attract any attention to them, but Bada responds with a sigh, Lusher’s speculations coming to light.

The younger girl knew her leader's jealousy toward Eunwoo and you, so she figured this was yesterday's drama announcement. “Are you guys, um, fighting right now?” Lusher whispers as she looks at you, clearly trying to avoid the Bebe girls. Now, Lusher wasn’t close to you, but from what Bada has expressed, you were a calm person who hated arguments. So, the safest assumption is that this was her leader’s fault 100%.

“What did you do?”

“Why does it have to be my fault?” Bada scoffs, but the sub-leader gives an icy glare, knowing her leader too well. “It was about the drama, wasn’t it?” The girl assumes correctly, causing Bada to look away in shame due to how minuscule the issue sounds out of Lusher’s mouth. “You have to apologize.”

“But-”

“Unnie,” Lusher warns the taller girl, tone indignant. Bada shudders at the sound of the younger girl's voice. “I know she’ll forgive you if you talk it out. You know Y/n-unnie can’t stand being on bad terms with you,” Bada’s body feels heavy, knowing Lusher was right.

“Also, it’s JUST work unnie, you should trust her more.”

“I do! I just don't trust Eunwoo.” 

“Which is a valid point, but now you're putting Y/n-unnie in a very awkward position, and it isn’t fair,” Lusher tells her leader, her gaze as genuine as usual, making Bada want to slam her head. She was a jealous maniac, throwing an unnecessary tantrum, making her slowly feel pathetic. A heavy sigh leaves her lips, her head tilted as her eyes are kept shut, “you’re right… I- I should apologize.”

After several elimination battles, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, and Bada thought this was the perfect opportunity to speak to you.

Seeing her enter as you washed your hands made you keep your eyes down, focusing on the water rather than giving her any attention in your angered state. “Y/n?” Her voice asks in a soft manner, and you suck in a deep breath. “Yes, Bada?”

“I’m sorry,” the bathroom silence felt deafening; only the sound of running water was heard echoing. You sigh as you shake your head, the disappointment lingering in your heart. “I was wrong,” she tells you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “I felt threatened by Eunwoo when I should’ve had full faith in you. I wasn’t being reasonable, and I’m sorry for that,” She mutters, and as you dry off your hands, you face her, and Bada finds your eyes darker than usual. You were still upset, and your eyes just confirmed it for her.

“Can you promise me you’ll do your best not to act this way again? I know you dislike the man, but I dislike that version of you, too.” You whisper, playing with her long hair, feeling mentally exhausted from the fight. The comparison you made with her and Eunwoo slightly broke her heart, and she did not like it one bit. She hugs you, relaxing at the touch of your arms, “I promise I’ll try and act like a proper girlfriend.” 

You kiss her on the cheek, a smile forming on your face at the genuine apology, “Good.”

Tag list (OPEN): @chipswsauce @nimixe @yooqui @eeeetaetterswife @efyyylee @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @ssc7514 @kayascar @mrsdacherry @angel-hyuckie @letthemagicc @linda-botello @hyynee @only-minghaos @noraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @sun-nyy @tikitsune @xiakiyama @v2br33zyy @droppedmyhotpocket @ugogirlsstuff @kimisnotabigfan @waveartistry

[justporo]

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies (Prologue: A knock on the door)

Author's note: So, here we are, the prologue to the next longer story I already teased quite a bit. Enjoy! I'll start posting on October 5th - giving me some time to get ahead on writing hopefully. Please let me know if you want to get tagged. Spoilers ahead!

Summary: Astarion and you had settled down in Baldur’s Gate. For almost half a year now had you been living in your small, but cozy and quite luxurious townhouse in the Upper City – causing rampant rumours around the nobles in the city.

One night, Tav and Astarion receive an invitation to attend a ball that’s promising to be the city’s biggest event in quite some time. Astarion feels his time has come to finally show Tav some of his world: ballroom politics, waltzing, sipping on the finest champagne, gossiping while laughing and showing off your own prosperity, unthinkable debauchery going on behind closed doors – an excessive night to remember.

And the night might hold more surprises than either Astarion or Tav would have expected…

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion / Fem!Tav (You)

CHAPTER LIST | NEXT CHAPTER

Astarion and you were sitting in the big window alcove of your living room – the one you had equipped with some pillows and a blanket so the two of you could always sit there comfortably and watch out through the tall window onto the Upper City of Baldur’s Gate. The lights in the city were twinkling, while you both had snuggled up at one of your favourite places in your house.

Astarion was reading one of his many books he had started to collect and scatter all over the place. His brows were deeply furrowed as he was silently mumbling to himself while reading, one of his fingers absent mindedly moved over his bottom lip – and only ever stopped when he grabbed the chalice of wine beside him.

You were sitting there as well, facing him and trying to capture him and his thoughtfulness in a drawing while also admiring how effortlessly beautiful he just was at any given moment. This wasn’t the first time you’d drawn him and it wouldn’t be the last. Before, you hadn’t drawn in quite some time but were eager to brush up your skills again to fulfil a promise you’d given your vampire quite some time ago, when you had been on the road, adventuring.

“You know”, you teasingly broke the comfortable and companionable silence “if you would stop frowning so much it would take fifty years off of that face of yours immediately.” You chuckled and looked up from your drawing with only your eyes to catch the elf’s reaction. You were massively proud with the joke that had only taken you like the past half hour to come up with.

Astarion looked up from his book, eyes wide, finger still on his lip, and raised his eyebrows askingly at you – seemingly still miles away in his head. But then the meaning of your words clicked into place for him: his eyes narrowed, one of his eyebrows gave an annoyed twitch and he pursed his lips.

“Did no one ever teach you to respect your elders, my dear?” You simply giggled in response. “You’re awfully rude, my love, who could have possibly taught you to be this brutal?”, he asked in a playfully shocked manner and snapped his book shut in a swift movement. You kept looking at him a while longer and raised your eyebrows before you let your gaze roll back slowly to your current drawing project – no further comment needed.

“You’ve spent too much time in my company, my love”, you heard Astarion say and then a pleased chuckle afterwards. A soft clink indicated that he was taking another sip of wine.

“I think I haven’t spent enough in it – like ever”, you replied, a warm smile creeping onto your face while you started to work on your drawn lines again. You heard another very pleased chuckle and then sensed that Astarion was leaning to you. When you lifted your head to meet his gaze your faces were so close that your noses were almost touching. The vampire’s ruby eyes were glinting in the soft light of the candles all over the room. A smirk had found its way on his face, bringing out his laugh lines and soft crinkles around his eyes.

Your mouth opened slightly. It was like you knew his face better than any other and better than your own and still seemed to spot a new beautiful minor detail in it every time you looked at him. A dreamy sigh left your lips, you couldn’t help yourself – you desperately meant it when you’d said that you couldn’t ever spend enough time with him.

A sparkle entered Astarion’s eyes. Knowing full well the effect he had on you – that magnificent bastard. So he cocked his head slightly and acted coyly: “Care to show me your newest piece?” “Hm, I don’t know, do I?”, you replied puckering your lips and acting hard to get. The pale elf drew his brows together once more and looked pensively at you. “Hm… Yes. Yes, I think you do!“, he then said.

You weren’t quite ready to give in yet. “Maybe I do need some convincing”, you offered and started to grin. “Convincing? Love, next thing I know, you’ll be asking me to pay you.” “Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

Astarion huffed. “Of course, it would be, but I was thus far convinced you were doing this out of the goodness of your heart and not greed”, he dramatically responded. “Well, then maybe a kiss will suffice for now.” “Now this is the kind of payment I can get behind”, the vampire cheerfully replied and cupped your face softly in one of his hands and closed the distance between you.

The kiss he gave you was long and sweet and made you carefully cover his hand with your own. When he broke the kiss again you felt warm and fuzzy. “What generous payment”, you whispered breathlessly. At that the vampire smirked: “Oh don’t start to think there was a tip in there, that was a down-payment for your next masterpiece.”

You stuck your tongue out at him for his commentary but still offered up your sketchbook with your newest piece of him. This one had really turned out well, you were proud of yourself.

Astarion carefully took the small book from you. As always it seemed like an incredibly honourable moment for him. The way he always spent several long moments taking in your work before he even started to say anything made your heart swell and break simultaneously.

“I look so scholarly here – more than Gale even, wouldn’t you agree, my heart?”, he said after several heartbeats while still looking at the drawing. He wasn’t wrong: the way he was holding the book and leaning into it with his whole body, brows drawn together in concentration, finger wandering over his lip while lost in thought.

“You look beautiful, Astarion”, you said. At that, Astarion’s head moved up to look at you – an open and sincere smile on his face. “Only because you are such a wonderful artist, Tav”, he replied while his smile grew broader even. “But for all I know you could massively exaggerate and I could just be painfully ugly and that’s why you and other people keep staring at me”, he answered and theatrically placed the back of his hand that wasn’t holding your sketchbook on his forehead.

“Suuuure”, you reacted dryly and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m only kidding, my love. I thought I’d try being humble for once”, the vampire grinned back. “Yeah, it doesn’t suit you, better stay with the arrogance, dearest.”

Astarion was just about to reply when there was a knock on your front door.

Which was more than just a little weird since you near never received any visitors (and were mostly glad for it) – in fact, you weren’t sure, if someone had ever used the knocker on the door since the two of you had moved into the place.

“Was that-“, you started with furrowed brows. “A knock on the door? I think so”, Astarion finished your sentence, seemingly just as confused as you. He turned to look over his shoulder in an attempt to maybe spot whoever had been so brave out of the living room window – but it was impossible. The only thing you could see was that the small wrought-iron gate, that fenced off the street from the few steps up to the front door, had been opened.

“We weren’t expecting any company, were we?”, the vampire asked while getting up from his comfortable seat. Worry was now clearly showing on his face. It was probably nothing, but after all the two of you – and especially Astarion – had been through, it couldn’t hurt to stay cautious.

So, the vampire threw you another careful glance and then made his way to the front door. You followed closely behind.

When Astarion opened the door, you could see that it was an older, balding man in a head-to-toe black servant uniform at the door. He was standing as straight as an arrow, one arm at his back, the other holding a small envelope in front of him in a gloved hand. His head was lifted in an arrogant pose and you immediately felt stared down despite the man not being very tall.

“Ugh finally”, you hear the servant say under his breath in a tone you could only describe as “posh” and “Upper”. Astarion narrowed his eyes at him and coughed conspicuously, assuring the man that he had heard that.

“With whom do I have the pleasure?”, Astarion said then, immediately mirroring the tone of the visitor in front of him. You had definitely heard him use that kind of voice before – thousands of times – but he laid it on thick effortlessly.

The servant now seemingly reminded of his manners – or rather his duty to have manners – gave a curt bow and then spoke while offering Astarion the envelope he held: “I am here to relay an invitation by his gracious Lordship Lord De Grodt to his upcoming ball to Lord Ancunín” – his voice made clear he didn’t even remotely think he was dealing with a lord – “and, uhm…” The servant started to stutter his eyes wandering from Astarion to you standing close behind him with a raised eyebrow. “Tav?”, the messenger finished in a question rather than a statement.

The vampire took the offered envelope and clearly wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the situation. The servant now had placed his other hand on his back as well and had resumed holding his head up in arrogance.

“Please present your invitation if you attend”, he said abruptly, then turned on his heels and walked off without another glance or word – and left the gate to the street open. “What a prick”, you whispered while Astarion flipped the envelope other and started to open it. You walked past him and down the few steps to close the gate, when you heard a voice speak to you.

“Ah, did you receive an invitation too, my two dear neighbours? The messenger was awfully rude, wasn’t he?”, a well clothed older lady was walking down the street on the other side. She waved slowly and came over to you. You didn’t even know her name, but she was your neighbour living in an enormous mansion on the other side of the street. Over the last few months since you had moved into your new home, she had been the only one of the people living around that had deemed you two worthy of being talked to. And she was actually a really nice lady even though you hadn’t figured out why she had taken a liking to the both of you – or why she was surprisingly often out after the sun had gone down.

You had asked her once about it to which she had slapped your wrist playfully with a fan she’d been holding: “Nah, my dear girl, that is such a rude question to ask, don’t you think? I’m not asking you why the both of you seem to be up all night, basically every night, do I?” She had pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows and you had blushed a deep red at what she had implied. “But if you are so keen to know: I have no husband anymore but a mostly empty mansion – so I like to take long walks to not feel so lonely and keep myself in form to stay alone in an empty house for longer.” She had laughed about it, but you had felt empathy for the woman. So, you had offered to her to come by for a cup of tea if she ever felt too lonely. The sincere offer had taken her off guard obviously. Maybe she hadn’t expected much of a genuine response to her rambling. She had thanked you but never taken you up on your offer. But you chatted for a few minutes whenever you saw each other. Even Astarion had talked to her a few times and taken a liking to the lady. And she seemed positively infatuated with him, telling him once how he reminded her of her late husband and winking at him – which would have surely made even Astarion blush if that had been possible.

“Yes, awfully”, you agreed to her now. “Well, at least I know two of the people that will be attending, hm, my dear?”, the older woman replied and grinned at you but then already turned around to leave. “Greet your beau from me, will you?”, she said while she was already on her way but still shortly waved at Astarion at the top of the stairs, staring at the invitation and not noticing the short exchange.

You closed up the gate and went back to your vampire. “So?”, you simply asked and leaned over to see the invitation. “Lord Ancunín – has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”, Astarion chimed happily and grinned at you. You looked at the invitation in his slender hands. Two golden lines framed the card and under a decorative print stood in elegant cursive writing: “His Lordship Lord De Grodt requests the pleasure of the Company of Lord Astarion Ancunín & Tav to a Ball at Herrenfordt Castle on October 5th, 1493 DR after dusk.”

“They really only just wrote ‘Tav’? Should I be insulted?” “You don’t have a last name?”, Astarion asked while looking up from the card. “No, Astarion, I grew up on the streets, because my parents abandoned me – I’m only Tav, always have been”, you answered, only a tad of bitterness in your voice. “Well, my love, you could always just take mine”, the vampire replied smugly and grinned at you. “Weird way to propose”, you muttered under your breath but then immediately said before Astarion could react: “So what do you make of this?”

“I do know the palace where this is taking place, but I’ve never heard of this lord”, he answered lost in thought and drew his brows together once more. Then he seemed to remember your question, lifted up one finger and looked at you expectantly: “Do you know how to tell from an invitation how big and expensive of an event it is going to be?” “Astarion, I’ve never been to a ball in my life.” “Indulge me, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes at him and cursed him under your breath. “Fine, how do you tell?” “So nice of you to ask, my love”, the elf replied and smiled at you as if you hadn’t just called him a name for being pretentious.

“Let’s take a look, shall we?”, he started and flicked the card with a finger. “First off: paper quality. This is very thick and finely grained paper, so already much better than what you’ll find in most books. Bonus point one. Secondly: writing. All spelled correctly, good ink, incredible cursive writing the likes of which isn’t cheap to get by – especially if you have probably hundreds of invitations to hand out. Bonus point two.” He kept twirling the card around while excitedly telling you about its properties – you were rather keen to get back inside…

“And lastly: décor! Not only has this card some printing on it for which a custom stamp must’ve been made but it is embossed with gold, twice. Bonus point three. Thus, my dearest Tav, this will be one of the biggest and probably most unforgettable events Baldur’s Gate has seen in quite some time. I can’t wait to go”, Astarion finished and grinned self-assuredly at you. You slowly blinked at him: “Do I get to have any say in this, or…”

Astarion pouted at you and made puppy eyes at you: “You can’t be saying this after dragging me to this hellhole of a tavern and making me put up with your horrible ex-lover.” Well, he had you there. After all, you had put him through quite the chaotic night when you had proposed to go to one of your favourite places in the city. But still��

When he saw that you were still hesitant, he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you – deeply, this time. A kiss that took all your breath away and left you longing for more when he lifted his lips from yours again. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Pretty please, my sweet sweet darling love?”, he pouted and his ruby puppy eyes seemed to grow bigger.

You sighed in defeat but still poked a finger at him: “I am not doing anything that involves wearing a corset.” At that Astarion simply smirked at you. “You can’t possibly propose to go like this, my love” – he gave you an once-over – “as much as I love your butt in these leather pants, anyway. But we’ll have to get you a dress, dearest.”

Just the thought made you uncomfortable. You didn’t reply and simply made your way back inside after untangling from him. Astarion followed you, putting a hand on your back after closing the front door. “Don’t worry, my heart, just leave it to me to get you something adequate. I’ll even make sure to avoid it having a corset”, he promised you with a smile when he grabbed your shoulder and softly made you face him.

That was indeed very nice of him and you were more than sure that Astarion would find you the perfect thing to wear, but the thought of attending such an event still made you uncomfortable. “What’s on your mind, my love? Worried about stepping on my toes when we’ll dance?”, he asked and pulled you close in a dancing position – the hand with the envelope and invitation still in it pressing flush to the small of your back pulling you close and the other grabbing your hand and lifting it up. He softly started humming and twirled you around in a lazy waltz. “Don’t worry, I’ll practice with you. All the dances. The silly ones, Wyll showed you once. The fast ones. The intimate ones.” Of course, he knew all of these. You’d put your other hand on his shoulder and let yourself get swirled around. The two of you had danced together before – in fact it had become one of your favourite pastimes.

“That’s not it, Astarion, it’s rather… I don’t think I’ll blend in very well. I mean, look at the invitation”, you explained and couldn’t help some sadness creeping into your voice. Astarion’s cheerful mood faltered a little, but he kept dancing with you around your living room: “My love, neither do I, really. It doesn't matter. We’ll be going there for us: get all dolled up, drink our body weight in excessively expensive wine and champagne, dance all other guests into the ground, spread some rumours and maybe pickpocket some diamond cuff links - how does that sound?”

A smile had crept back onto your lips. “Now that sounds like a happening, I can get myself behind.”

And to that Astarion threw his head back and laughed while he started to turn faster with you in his arms. “It’ll be a marvellous night, my heart, marvellous!”

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed! I am so excited to get into writing this!

Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque

[brianwashere]

hello!! saw your writing today in my tags and got interested, read some more and you seem really cool :D i got one fic stuck in my head though, the one you posted earlier today with the 7 foot spider reader! it was really cool but i kind of thought about a follow up (and I made sure to check your rules before this)

i was thinking, m/n is really big, intimidating and generally a badass- however. in bed (nsfw) he’s inexperienced, shy af, and ends up just being really submissive (you actually didn’t specify if you prefer dom or sub reader, i assumed you mind neither, but if u don’t feel comfortable with this then just ignore)

thank you, and keep up your great works so far :D

Anon, you’re officially my favorite fucking person ever. Oh my god. This req. warmed my heart. Idek what. It just did. Thank you for reading my other fics too. Wow. I’m reeling rn.

Also you didn’t specify who with so I just did HCs for Noir and Miguel

Pls req again soon! You’re so sweet

**I do not own any characters or part of the franchise from marvel or sony **

Summary: look at req

Tw: explicit activities ehehehehe, language

-Miguel-

The first time you two try anything he’s expecting you to be all dominant and get his ass blasted

Y’all two are making out and he’s ready to take it to the next level

And you’re nervous cause you know he’s expecting you to be this super experienced “knows how to make you scream immediately” kinda guy

The truth is you haven’t had much experience because while people may be into the whole “huge man” thing they’re too scared to actually come up to you and even have a conversation

And you’re also scared of hurting your partner

Just a mix of things that led you to little experience

It doesn’t take long for Miguel to figure it out

As soon as you glanced at his face nervously he knew something was up

At first Miguel is surprised bcc he would’ve expected men and women to practically be hanging from you

Once he recovers from the initial shock he’s down with topping and showing you the ropes

It’s a bit of a boost to his ego, not to mention a massive turn on for him

He never lets you shy away from him/cover your face. He loves seeing you. He knows he’s not stronger than you but he’ll still pull your hands away/pull you closer

But sometimes he does wanna be on bottom

Queue very erotic teaching sessions

When you do something he likes he’ll definitely over exaggerate so you’ll know

He also loves marking you up in more…intense ways because he knows it won’t really hurt you

Clawing your back. He’ll claw the SHIT out of your back.

Biting you too. Sometimes he just can’t help it

He finds out you have god tier stamina and impecable recovery time and will definitely use that to his advantage

*cough cough* Overstimulation and denial *cough cough*

He’s down to do whatever you’re comfortable with but sometimes he really needs some stress relief i.e. getting a blowjob or just fucking you senseless

He won’t admit it but he likes when he’s the little spoon after you two are done

~Noir~

You got nervous and told him the first make out session that you had practically no experience

He was a little taken aback, again, you’re so big and so hot how could people not be lining up for a piece of you

It makes him feel even more lucky to be with you though

“Oh…that’s ok, dear. We’ll take it slow, then.”

Then he finds out your submissive too and he’s pretty sure he has a heart attack

Now he was pretty vanilla at first but then he found the internet and stumbled upon some kinks and did some…research

Behind. He loves seeing your back muscles move and twist under him

He likes tying your wrists together with some of his webbing

It’s strong enough that it could actually hold you if you tried resisting, maybe not for very long, but it wouldn’t snap like thread at the slightest pressure

He loves praising you. Praise. All the time. Always praise. You could breathe and he’d be on his knees for you

Every time he does something new he asks if you’re ok with it

He’ll be gentle if that’s what you want but he figures out that’s usually not the case

Usually you want everything he’s got, as much as he’ll provide you

He does love soft romantic nights with you though

Where he gets to enjoy your large beautiful frame and your contrasting shyness

When he gets to slow down and drink in ALL of you

The noises you make, the small movements, your incoherent mumbling

He loves ALL of it

He’s so down bad for you not even a joke

A little guilty pleasure for him is kissing you senseless

He loves being the big spoon for you, even if it just feels like a backpack is attached to you

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Okay but imagine if someone DID try Rook in the workplace. Like a new intern taking a liking to Auron and tried to tell Rook they were fired.

Calmly Rook looked at her, what was this girl's name again? Oh right, Heather. She is a intern for Trish to be a second secretary for Auron, they don't know why though. Trish has been working for Auron for how many years now? It's dumb to even think about someone else being in her spot.

"-Are you not listening? Your fired." Coldly saying everyone around them started to whisper. Rook on the other hand knew she was bluffing and smiled.

"Well then, I guess I should start packing." Grabbing some papers Rook stood up. The younger girl smirked triumphal, even tried to speak.

"Yes! You should I expect you to be gone be-" Cocky words were interrupted by Rook holding up their hand. Giving a icy stare down at Heather, causing her to freeze up.

"Then I have to give these papers to Auron before I leave." Walking away Rook ignored the heels clicking behind them. Heather had a look of panic as she trailed after them like a puppy.

"I-I can give them to him! Mr. Auron shouldn't have to see you-" Explaining this to Rook would never work. If Auron really wanted Rook gone, then they'd know and would already have been gone.

"No. I think I will. I'm not going to beg him to keep my job, dear." Venous words stabbed Heather as she saw Rook finally reach Auron's office. Trish gave them a big smile but paused when seeing Heather.

"Oh! Heather why're you here? I thought you were taking a lunch break?" Confused Trish looked at Rook who gave her a look. Nodding Trish gave Rook the go ahead to go into Auron's office.

Opening the door with a smile Rook saw Auron turn around him his chair. He blinked at them and opened his mouth to say something. But as usual Rook beat him to it, by asking a very important question.

"Did you tell Heather to fire me?" Words echo as the room got tense. Auron snap his eyes at Heather who shrinks under them, then looked back at Rook.

"No, I did not." This was said calmly but, after being with Auron for so long. Rook can see his jaw clenching as he slowly was getting angry.

"Oh! How interesting....Heather. Did you really lie using Auron's name? How shameless of you!" Turning their attention to the blonde woman. Who in turn opened her mouth to say something but couldn't get words out.

"Auron. Deal with this. I have work to do...Also here the papers you needed." Walking up to his desk Rook bent slightly to whisper to him. "See you later~" Auron grabbed the papers and heaved a heavy annoyed sigh.

"I see. Heather, sit down." Comanding Heather rushed a bit to sit before her boss. Rook smiled as they walked out of there give Heather a glare. This will teach little interns to not mess with them.

[libraryofloveletters]

The Christmas Market

Pierre Gasly x Fem!Reader

Warnings: home sick reader, pierre is trying his best, christmas markets, cheesy couple stuff, pierre is kinda sweet when he's not being an ick, pierre can't skate for shit, cooties as these kids would say.

Word Count: 718

Author's Note: again, my charity of the month writing the man. y'all know I don't fuck with this man like that lmaooo - for @2-fast-2-curious cause this is her pookie

--

You were missing home quite a bit and Pierre decides to indulge in one of your favourite holiday traditions.

Home sickness was no joke and it was kicking in big time.

You lived in Milan since you had applied to go to University there. You moved during your first year and fell in love with the place and with a certain formula one driver who lived there as well.

As much as you've come to love Milan and Pierre, you always went home for the holidays. For the last three years, you were home for Christmas and in France for new years with your boyfriend, Pierre and his family.

This year was much different, your studies kept you in Milan a lot longer than expected and you would be missing out on a lot of your family traditions.

No tree decorating, no cookie decorating and no Christmas market.

Pierre being the sweet boyfriend he was, was trying his best to cheer you up as much as he could. He usually waited until a week or two before Christmas to get his Christmas tree but this year, he bought the biggest artificial tree one could find and about a million and one ornaments to see if he could improve your mood.

And for a bit, it did work. The 5 hours it took you two to put the tree together, your mood did improve but the next day, it was back to focusing on your exams and the lack of Christmas mood was apparent.

He offered to bake cookies with you but you turned down his offer; you typically baked your mom's famous and secret cookies but you didn't have the recipe, hence the secret part.

Pierre was running out of ideas but then an ad for the Christmas market popped on his Instagram.

He finds you on the couch, finally popping your laptop for the afternoon. "How about a date night?" He asks, reaching for your hand.

"Babe," you groaned, letting him pull you up. "I'm not really in the mood."

"C'mon, some fresh air will make you feel better. You've been glued to your laptop all day."

"Fine," you gave in, the two of you getting ready. Pierre didn't give you any idea as to where you're going other than to dress warm. You figured you'd probably walk to dinner or something but you weren't - he opened the car door for you, driving to some undisclosed location.

To be honest, you weren't paying much attention to him or where he was going until the car came to a full stop, Pierre turning off the engine. You finally look up from your phone to see the sign in front of you; Christmas market.

"You didn't," you turn to face your boyfriend.

The man smiles, nodding. "I know it's not the one at home but, it's still a Christmas market so I hope that counts."

"Of course it does!" You reach over to give him a kiss, your hand resting on his jaw softly.

Pierre gets out of the car and you mirror his action, the two of you holding hands as you walk into the market.

The Christmas trees planted around the place, the lights wrapped around the roof of each stand, the sound of laughter and cheesy Christmas music filled your ears, as did the smell of gingerbread. You two decided to make the rounds.

You walked through the market, taking in all of it. Pierre let you drag him to every booth, buying you whatever your heart desired, even the ridiculously overpriced hot cocoa. You took photos as you went, stopping in at the photo booth; the classic ones of you two smiling, giggling and kissing with the stamp at the bottom - Milan Christmas Market 2023.

The night wrapped up with you attempting to teach Pierre how to skate. His hands in yours as you carefully took him around the skating rink.

He falls against you, you're pinned between him - a man struggling to hold himself up- and the barricade. "Did you have a good time?" He asks and you nod, a smile on your face.

"I did. Thank you for this, baby."

Pierre leans in, almost slipping but he catches himself as he kisses you. There's a little boy skating by, doing better than Pierre you might add, who makes a face at you two kissing. "Ew!"

You and Pierre can't help your laughter.

[lavendercharm]

Linger, Chapter 5: Kiss With A Fist/Human Nature

A/N:

Ya'll. Writing this chapter felt like a marathon. But I think I'm ultimately very happy with it. Please let me know what you think!

This chapter is a bit longer, and I think it deserved to be named after two songs because of that. "Kiss With A Fist" by Florence + The Machine definitely fits the first half of this chapter and was one of the first songs I added to my playlist when writing this story, so I knew I wanted to use it for the big public confrontation.

The vibes toward the end are different. I discovered this song earlier this week and haven't been able to stop listening to it, so maybe I'm just reaching to try and justify including it lol. But "Human Nature" by Barrie is what I decided to use for the second half of this. Cause they're spitting facts when they say "Human nature doesn't always come easy" lmfao.

This is far from the end of this story, but it may be a second before you hear from me, depending on how busy the next few weeks are. I say that - watch me turn around and post something this weekend lol.

Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me thus far. I love you and I'm so grateful to know you're along for the ride.

---

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: Strong Language

---

Barbara Howard did not take days off. It was only recently that she allowed herself her first mental health day, and while she could see the benefits, she had been eager to get back to her classroom, her students, her best friend, and even her coworkers. The life of a teacher was unpredictable, and the life of a teacher at Abbott Elementary came with its own unique set of challenges, but Barbara had seen a lot in her decades of teaching. With some hard work, support from her fellow teachers, and the grace of God himself, she had seen and survived it all. Barbara Howard could conquer anything thrown her way.

However, if Barbara had the magical gift of foresight, she might have chosen Monday morning to take her second mental health day in her entire history at Abbott. 

As it was, Barbara could not see into the future, and so she entered the teacher’s lounge at 6:30 AM, on the dot. She claimed her usual spot, made herself a cup of coffee, and began sorting through her lesson plans for the week. She enjoyed her few moments of serenity in the lounge prior to the arrival of her more talkative coworkers. It wasn’t unusual for Melissa to arrive a bit later, especially on a Monday, so Barbara thought nothing of her absence. She politely greeted Janine and Jacob as they entered together; she did the same for Gregory shortly after. As the three younger teachers gathered at their table and discussed their weekends, Barbara continued her work, occasionally reacting to what she overheard. And when you entered the lounge, your first time visiting in the morning, Barbara was mildly surprised, but she shot you a warm smile all the same. She noticed you seemed to be a bit tense, but she chalked it up to the fact that you were still very new. 

Melissa had talked her ear off about you last Monday, of course, explaining your tardiness and the shots you’d taken at her about her age. When Barb pressed her for details about your confrontation and what you’d said to each other, she simply said, “I took care of business, a’right?” 

While Barbara agreed it was unprofessional of you to arrive late, she also knew Melissa better than anyone else in Abbott did; she knew Melissa could take things too far. Melissa was as passionate as they came, which meant she was one of the best teachers at the school. On the flip side, she also had a short fuse. Barbara knew she didn’t have all of the details, but she didn’t think much of it - you were a sub, after all. She expected she’d never actually meet you. 

So when you arrived in the lounge for lunch the day after your explosive argument, she was shocked. While skeptical of you, she couldn’t help but admire your tenacity. You’d come face to face with the wrath of Melissa Schemmenti and still returned to Abbott. You’d introduced yourself, and as far as Barbara could tell, you were perfectly polite and well mannered. The displeasure and hostility radiating off of Melissa was felt by everyone in the lounge, but aside from giving her close friend a pointed look, Barbara chose to ignore it. 

You’d continued showing up the rest of the week, greeting Barbara every day before taking a seat with Janine and Jacob, as well as Gregory, occasionally. The younger teachers seemed to have taken an instant liking to you, the four of you sharing stories from previous schools or discussing the latest movie releases. You’d even had a good-natured exchange with Ava one morning. The principal had leant against the corner with her phone and talked you through her “roster”, whatever that meant. Barbara was sure she didn’t want to know. 

Barbara observed how seamlessly you integrated into Abbott’s social circles - with the obvious exception of the red head who always sat to her right in the lounge. Melissa pretended you didn't exist, which would have been fine if it wasn’t the elephant in the room. Your first day in the lounge, Janine had tried to talk to Melissa about you. She’d turned to Melissa with a huge grin on her face and said, “Man, Melissa, you’re so lucky to have such an awesome sub as your aide.” 

Melissa had glanced at Janine over the rim of her cat-eye glasses, and in a sharp tone, retorted, “What sub?” That’s all it took for everyone in the room to grasp her unspoken message: If you value your life, drop it. The only reaction Barbara saw was a sharp flash of your eyes before you turned your back to the older woman and called Janine over, changing the subject. 

But last Friday, Melissa caught up with Barbara after the school day ended and explained that you’d just given her two VIP tickets to the Eagles game on Sunday. If there was anything that would help Melissa forgive your transgressions, it was that. Once again, Barbara found herself impressed with you - you took the initiative to make amends and you’d knocked it out of the park. She was happy for her friend. She’d told Melissa, “Just think of how much you’ll be able to accomplish now that you and that young woman can work together. Now, you and Gary go enjoy that ball game.” 

A week after your first morning at Abbott, all of the water was seemingly under the bridge, and the staff room could breathe easy again. No one paid much mind to the anxiety radiating off of you. For the most part, the energy in the room was calming as the day began. 

The sudden CRACK of the door slamming into the shelves violently ripped the room’s occupants out of their morning zen. It was enough to cause everyone to nearly jump out of their skin. Heads whipped in the direction of the doorway as Melissa’s furious form charged into the lounge. Her attention was initially on Barb, but as she opened her mouth to speak, her eyes locked on you. The blush of fury rose instantly in her cheeks. She ripped her bag off of her shoulder and tossed it in the direction of her regular table, nearly hitting Barbara in the process, and as her eyes narrowed, you could practically see the steam rolling off of her as she hissed out, “You.” 

And that’s when Barbara knew any chance of a peaceful morning had gone out the window.

—----------------------

As your weekend began, it didn’t take long for it to sink in that you were well and truly fucked. You completely failed to consider the consequences of your little scheme. There’s no way in hell Melissa wouldn’t be out for blood at the start of the next school week. The smartest thing to do would be to never return to Abbott, move to a new city across the country, and change your legal name. You went back and forth between chastising yourself for being ridiculous, and being so ridden with anxiety that you couldn’t eat. You felt so stupid - what did you think would happen? 

Ultimately, you reached a point where you couldn’t handle the crushing weight of what you’d done alone, so you’d spilled to Ava. Her response had been about the least reassuring thing she could have said.

You did WHAT? I didn’t know you were crazy like that! You’re gonna die girl. I’m not even joking. We gotta go out this weekend, cause it’s your last one alive. I’ll make sure you have fun tho. Do you own any latex?

After refusing Ava’s offers to make your last days on earth worthwhile, you spent most of the weekend drowning in anxiety and imagining how Melissa would bring about your demise. You decided you had to do your best to prepare. You literally couldn’t afford to not go back to Abbott, especially after getting your headlights repaired Saturday afternoon. Under the anxiety, you could feel the ember of your rage, still pulsing with a red-hot glow, so you decided to grasp ahold of it. What you’d done was shitty, sure. But compared to smashing headlights? All you’d done was get even.

Seeing as you couldn’t afford to uproot your whole life and leave Philadelphia, the next most logical thing to do was to never be caught alone in a room with Melissa ever again. You were pretty sure this was something you could pull off - you figured you had two weeks left at Abbott tops, and as long as you had kids or other teachers in the same room, you would have witnesses who could recount your violent death should Melissa murder you. 

This is what caused you to arrive at Abbott on Monday morning a full hour and a half before you needed to be there. You’d dithered in your car for about fifteen minutes, debating driving away and then talking yourself out of it. Eventually, you braved the outdoors, darting into the building and down the hallways as quickly as you could. You practically sprinted past Melissa’s classroom door - the lights were out, but even though you logically knew she wasn’t in yet, your mind conjured a vivid image of her jumping out of the shadows like a monster in waiting. You slowed down and tried to control your breathing as you entered the teacher’s lounge, and you were immediately soothed to see how many people were already there. Even better, Melissa was absent. 

As you passed Barbara, you gave her a hesitant smile. You actually liked Barbara, as much as you can like someone who’s polite and whom you don’t know very well. You figured it may be the last chance you get - surely the woman would turn against you once Melissa told her what you’d done. Janine, Jacob, and Gregory were all sitting at your usual table, and after preparing your morning coffee, you quickly situated yourself in a seat, thankfully facing the door to the lounge.

“Hey!” Janine said, shooting you her adorable, slightly gapped-toothed smile. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, uh… it was fine,” you said, your eyes darting toward the door as it opened. Not Melissa . “Mostly caught up on chores… had to get some work done to my car, fun stuff like that.”

“Car problems are tough,” Gregory said, spooning a bite out of his bowl of plain oatmeal. “What was wrong with it?”

“Uh…” you hesitated, unsure if you wanted to share what was really wrong. It would inevitably lead to questions and the last thing you wanted was for everyone to know the details of your feud. It was one thing for everyone to know Melissa didn’t like you - there were very few people Melissa actually liked in general. But it was another entirely for them to know she’d smashed out your headlights. Something generic - a bad alternator, maybe - would suffice.

You didn’t even get the chance to lie.

Despite the fact that you could see the doorway, the resounding SMACK of the door slamming open still made you jump. Before your brain knew what it was processing, in stormed Melissa Schemmenti, thick heels clacking on the linoleum tiles. She wore a form fitting pink sweater, the neckline questionably appropriate, and skin tight black pants. Her saint necklaces shimmered from their home on her collarbones. You supposed she wanted to look hot when she killed you.

It only took a moment for her eyes to lock on you, and in that moment you knew things were about to get ugly. To your surprise, seeing the flustered state she was in created a feeling of immense satisfaction. She was furious because your plan had worked. You didn’t even fight the smile that began to find its way onto your lips. The anxiety wasn’t gone, but you relished in the triumphant feeling of landing a critical hit. 

“ You,” she hisses, tossing her bag from her shoulder. The tension in the air was thick enough to be cut with a knife. 

Your eyebrows shoot up, feigned ignorance in your voice as you point at yourself and respond, “Who, me?”

She starts toward you, and everyone else at your table scatters. You’re shocked to see Janine step in front of you, her hands up placatingly. “Melissa-”

“Shut it, pipsqueak, and get out of my way ,” she growls, her gaze over Janine’s head burning holes in you. 

“Hey!” You spit out, anger spiking and crowding out your anxiety. You’re suddenly standing. “Don’t call her that!”

Janine turns to you, holding a hand in your direction now too. “It’s fine, she calls me that all the time-” 

“It’s not fine!” You shout, fists balled. Your eyes are glued to Melissa’s. “You think you can say and do whatever you want because no one will stand up to you. Well, I’m not going to put up with it!” 

“Oh my god, please stop this. I will never psychologically recover from seeing your dead body,” Jacob pleads, wedged between the corner of the room and the fridge for cover. 

“Can’t believe I was dumb enough to trust ya,” Melissa growls. “And after all that bullshit about ‘olive branches' and bein’ cordial.”

You smirk. “Oh, right! How was the game?”

Melissa starts forward again and Janine has to physically hold her back. She’s shockingly effective in spite of her small stature. 

“Ya know I didn’t get into the game! Gary and I went all the way to the stadium, but you gave me fake tickets! We wasted our whole afternoon and got harassed by security!” she shouts. 

“So what are you gonna do about it? Beat me up? Call the cops on me?” you challenge.

A deeply offended look crosses Melissa’s face as her jaw drops. “Are you callin’ me a snitch?” she snarls. She surges against Janine one more time, who manages to keep her back again. “That’s low, even for you!” Melissa says nastily over Janine’s shoulder.

“Oh, that’s low?” You ask incredulously. “Low like smashing someone’s headlights out?” There’s an audible gasp from Jacob in the corner, and you feel the heat of everyone’s gaze turn from you to Melissa, the whole room enthralled by your verbal tennis match. 

Melissa glances around her before pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Ya can’t prove that was me!” You thought someone would have to have been born yesterday to believe that; anyone who worked at Abbott knew that’s exactly something Melissa would do. 

“Oh yeah, because everyone else here keeps a bat taped under their desk like a neurotic asshole!” you proclaim, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“I’ll show you ya stronza- ” Melissa hisses, pushing past Janine and beginning to reach for you. Your arms come up to instinctively protect your face, but before she can reach you, a figure closer to your height blocks your vision.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Barbara Howard bellows. The whole room comes to a standstill, frozen in time. Even Melissa has been stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide in shock as Barbara looks accusingly between the two of you. You feel immediately ashamed. “Are you both not grown adults? I cannot believe the absolute foolishness I’ve just witnessed!” She rounds on Melissa. “Especially from you!” 

“Barb, she-” Melissa starts. 

“I don’t care if she insulted your cooking to your face, you do not behave like catty teenagers! We are professional, grown people! Acting like this in front of your peers? Disgraceful! ”

She rounds on you, her eyes narrowing. “And you. To think that I was beginning to think highly of you. You went to all that trouble to make fake football tickets, just to get back at Melissa? Have you ever heard the phrase ‘An eye for an eye’ ?” 

The pit of shame in your stomach is sickening as you slowly lower your arms, your eyes unable to meet Barbara’s. Feeling like a petulant child, you couldn’t help but mutter, “She started it.”

“And now I’m ending it!” Barbara yells. You feel her grip the sleeve of your sweater and pull. You stumble after, seeing her grasp Melissa as well. “You are both coming with me!” The rest of the lounge doesn’t move a muscle as Barbara Howard physically drags you into the hallway. 

She marches with both of you in tow, Melissa sending you the nastiest glares she can muster from the other side of her friend. Stopping in front of a classroom full of bright colors and tiny chairs, Barbara turns to both of you. “This has gotten completely out of hand! You are both going to sit in my room and we are going to work through this. I don’t care if it takes all day - you will NOT be allowed out until you can act like civilized adults!” She folds her arms and gestures her head forward. You stare back for a moment, thinking she must be joking, but the woman doesn’t budge. After a moment longer, you enter the classroom. You’re followed closely by Melissa, who stalks to the other end of the room. 

Barbara closes her door and pulls down the window blind. She turns to you both, her eyes closed and her shoulders rising in deep, even breaths. Eventually, she opens her eyes, and commands, “Take a seat.”

You glance around and only see chairs for children. You begin to protest, but the look on Barbara’s face prompts you to simply grab the nearest chair and plant yourself in it. Your knees are comically close to your chest and you don’t know where to put your hands. You settle on resting them on top of your knees. Melissa is pacing back and forth, muttering to herself - you guess she gets to ignore Barbara’s request. 

“Now,” Barbara begins. “We are going to talk out your problems so we can put this whole mess behind us. Your students deserve you at your best, and you cannot be your best when you’re at each other’s throats!” She’s stern, chastising, and you feel ridiculous. “Where did all of this animosity start? Why are you angry with Melissa?”

You can’t help but scoff because the answer should be obvious. Barbara presses her lips together in annoyance and you quickly reply, “Well, where do I begin? Aside from smashing my headlights out, she’s done nothing but disrespect me since I stepped foot in her room. She was insulting me before she even learned my name!”

“I never learned your name,” she pipes up spitefully, and you whip your head around to glare at her. 

“Memory not as good as it used to be?” you retort. A muscle in her jaw jumps out as she clenches her jaw, her face coloring once more. 

Before she has a chance to rip into you again, Barbara cuts you both off with a stern, “Knock it off!” She looks exasperatedly between the two of you before pinching the bridge of her nose. “The Lord is testing me today,” she whispers to herself, shaking her head. She turns her attention to the fiery woman across the room. “Melissa?” 

Melissa comes to a stop, planting herself and leaning her weight onto one hip. She rolls her eyes, gesticulating wildly as she speaks. “If we’re goin’ back to the start, then first things first, she strolled into my class thirty minutes late. Didn’t even have the decency to apologize.” 

“You didn’t give me a chance to!” you protest. “I hadn't even stepped into the room before you were criticizing me. It’s not like I did it on purpose, it was a complete and total accident. And then you started insulting how young and inexperienced I look.” 

“I was just givin’ you a hard time, that’s all,” she says indignantly. “How was I suppose ta know you can’t take a joke?”

Your head whips toward her. “And smashing my headlights? Was that a joke?” you retort incredulously. 

Her eyes narrow and her tone is venomous as she hisses, “Nah, that was for throwin’ away my school supplies, stealin’ lunches, and callin’ me a bitch.” 

You hear Barbara’s sharp inhale and jump to defend yourself. “Those supplies were all broken or unusable! You have so much on your hands with two classes and I was just trying to help you. Also, Janine gave me that lasagna because I forgot my lunch, I didn’t steal anything. You wouldn’t give me a chance to explain myself before jumping down my throat. Not to mention calling me degrading names in Italian!” 

Barbara raises an eyebrow and gives Melissa a knowing glance. “Melissa uses gabbortz quite often, it’s nothing to get offended over,” she says, an attempt to reassure you.

Melissa’s eyes dart to Barbara’s as she huffs, “Uh, it’s gabbadost , Barb. And I mighta used somethin’ more… vulgar.” To your disbelief, the red head practically looks sheepish at this admission. Her arms cross in front of her as she shifts her weight, and your eyes are drawn to how the motion causes her cleavage to swell ever so slightly. Feeling heat flood your cheeks, you dart your eyes all over the room, attempting to find something else to fix them on. Luckily, neither woman seems to notice. Barbara’s eyebrows are furrowed in an inquisitive way that suggests she’s waiting for the shorter woman to elaborate. Melissa lets out a puff of air. “I mighta used the ‘P’ word, a’right?” 

Barbara’s eyes widen as her mouth drops open in a gasp. “The ‘P’ word? Melissa Schemmenti, you don’t mean-”

“Yeah, yeah, the one I save exclusively for Kristin Marie. That ‘P’ word.” You don’t know who Kristin Marie is, but Barbara looks positively scandalized.

Tearing her eyes away from Melissa, Barbara stands and turns away from both of you, hands on her hips and head shaking in disapproval. As she takes her turn pacing across the room, the disappointed silence from the older woman allows the weight of the last week to settle on you, and you find yourself suddenly exhausted. You lean forward, your head in your hands and the shame rising inside of you like a tidal wave. How did you get here? 

“Well, I think you both have been sufficiently horrible to each other,” Barbara says, turning toward you. “Now explain how this has all made you feel.” 

You and Melissa groan in unison. “Come on, Barb,” Melissa starts, but Barbara holds up a single admonishing finger to silence her. The Italian woman becomes subdued immediately, and you notice how different Melissa’s reaction is to being silenced by Barbara.

“How has this made you feel?” the older woman presses, her tone of voice a warning to comply. Melissa leans against the wall, refusing to budge. You all sit in tense silence for what feels like an eternity, and you wish the floor would swallow you up. She was using the same tactics on you that you might use on two fighting eight year olds.

Eventually, you can’t handle the tension any longer and you burst out, “I feel totally disrespected!” You look to Barbara and she gestures for you to continue. “I uh… I feel belittled, and like you don’t take me seriously, but I think the worst part is I never got the chance to prove to you that I belong here… you wrote me off before you even met me. I’ve worked hard, and I love what I do, so to have you disregard me right off the bat, just because I made a mistake and I look young… it felt pretty shitty,” you admit, the confession coming out of you in one long rush. 

“Especially because… I was excited to work with you,” you add quietly. You’re suddenly enamored with the floor, unable to bring yourself to look either woman in the eye. You feel exposed and vulnerable, and you’re majorly uncomfortable with it. 

You’re forced to endure your feelings of discomfort for a few more torturous minutes. Suddenly, your eyes widen in shock as a husky voice meets your ears, and it takes a moment for your brain to process the words. 

“I guess I feel a lot of the same,” Melissa admits. You raise your gaze to meet hers, and she’s staring at you intently, the earnestness reflected in her jewel-green eyes making your heart skip a beat. “Felt like you didn’t really care when you were late. Some a’ these kids? They got plenty of adults outside of these walls that don’t really care. That’s the last thing they need here. And then ya walked in and you look so young… I couldn't resist teasin' ya. But then you got me back and I got defensive, and I shouldnt’a.” She shifts her weight, casting her eyes to the floor. “I bought all those supplies with my own money,” she admits. “So seein’ you throwin’ em away, it really rubbed me the wrong way. But… you were right. I was tryin’ to stretch em when there was no more room to stretch. And then seein’ my lasagna on your desk… I know I can be a real hot head, and I took it out on ya and it wasn’t fair.” 

As you look at Melissa, her red hair shining under the fluorescents and her evident unease at her own candor, there’s a swelling feeling in your chest and a warmth slowly spreading in your limbs. “Melissa,” you say, and her head snaps up to meet you. You search her eyes, waiting for her to snap at you for using her first name. She doesn’t. She simply waits, holding your gaze, and you can’t quite read what’s behind her eyes, but you suspect it’s something far softer than she’s shown you before. 

You allow yourself to swim in those emerald pools for just a second longer before you admit, tenderly, “I’m sorry.” You see her shoulders drop ever so slightly, tension releasing as she allows your words to sink in. “I’m sorry for what I’ve said about your age. I’m sorry for throwing your things away without asking. And I’m really sorry about the Eagles tickets. That definitely wasn’t my finest moment.” You say the last bit with a touch of humor. You pause for a moment, before adding, “I’m not going to apologize for the lasagna, though. Janine insisted on giving it to me, and it was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever tasted.” 

You see her eyes widen, her brows raising in surprise. A genuine satisfied smile graces her lips, and you can’t help but momentarily wish things had been different over the last week so you could have seen more of those. That smile made her entire demeanor change. 

“Well,” she says, eyes flashing with her own humor. She shoots you a sly grin, and you return a small smile of your own. “If I’m bein’ real with ya, I’m impressed. Fake tickets? Pretty diabolical,” she continues, admiration in her voice. Her smile fades, though, and she brings her hand up, pressing a knuckle to her lips briefly in thought. She sighs, murmuring, “I’m sorry too. I shoulda given you a chance before jumpin’ to conclusions. And, uh… I’ll pay for ya to get your headlights fixed.” She mutters that last part, and you notice that she didn’t apologize for smashing them - but you know it’s as close as she’ll come, because you’re not sure she entirely regrets it. You’ll take what you can get.

“Thank you,” you murmur, and once again you suddenly can’t look at her anymore. Luckily, Barbara draws your focus to her as she clears her throat. You both look toward the older teacher as she stares down at you, a smug, triumphant smile dancing across her full lips. 

“Now, was that so hard?” She asks, her voice teasing both of you. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe fully again. Melissa rolls her eyes, pulling herself away from the wall, but you detect a hint of relief radiating off of the woman as well. 

“Don’t expect us to hold hands or nothin’ Barb,” she says as she heads for the door. When she reaches it, she pauses and turns to you. She considers you for a moment, and you begin to feel warm underneath her gaze. Finally, she says, “Well, ya comin’? We got lessons to plan for the day. How do ya feel about teaching Science?” Her tone is gruff, commanding, no nonsense. The carefully curated tough exterior of Melissa Schemmenti is back in place. But you’ve seen the slightest glimpse of the human being underneath.

“Right behind you,” you reply, and a tentative grin breaks out across your face as you stand and begin to follow the short woman. You pause briefly though, a thought entering your mind, and you turn to Barabra. Your hands grasp each other behind your back as you rock forward onto the balls of your feet, and you convey your gratitude by giving the older woman the warmest smile you can muster and uttering, “Thank you, Barbara.”

She returns your smile, her own radiant and warm, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve been blessed a bit. “My pleasure, dear. Go on, I’ll see you at lunch.” You nod in agreement, and turn on your heel, following after your lead teacher. You’re not friends - seeing as your time is limited at Abbott, you don’t imagine you ever will be. But you feel lighter, and there’s a newfound respect for the short woman. And for the first time since you stepped foot inside Abbott Elementary, you feel excited for the day before you.

-------

A/N:

Yes, I'm sorry, Gary will be briefly mentioned/perhaps even making small appearances. Stay strong lol. Controversial opinion but I don't hate Gary. Did I think he was good enough for Melissa? HELL NO. Do I think he should have respected her wishes and listened to her when she explained her boundaries? HELL YES. But ultimately he was just a big dumb guy who was infatuated with Melissa Schemmenti, and to that, I relate. Still, I wasn't mad about that split.

Fun fact - if you've watched season 3 episode 4 already, I wrote the Ava roster line before that episode aired. I died laughing when the kids were talking to Gregory about his roster. We don't need to talk about the firefighter exchange... denial is my favorite state.

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

TimKonBartCassie Clone Baby AU

Part 2

He jolts awake from if you call weird dream's about a gun slinging toddler with a flying a dog a restful sleep, to awake in a second.

It takes about ten more seconds for him to realize he is in his room at Titans Tower, his kid is gone which he is not currently too worried about once he remembers the conversation from last night.

He's already heading back to the lounge figuring it a good place to hunt down a secret keeping Impulse and everyone else.

Kon is holding him the baby asleep, while Bart rests in Cassie's lap. Various baby items from bibs, diapers, and clothes are neatly placed to the side of the couch.

Kon greets him with a soft smile that he can't help but return before sliding down next to Bart.

It's comfortable and he's grateful that's no one's mad, that they all just accepted Luci once again he's surprised by how family just goes with it no matter what.

He loves them so much.

It's only been about two minutes before Cassie breaks the silence.

"Alright, we don't know how much you remember but you passed out, we figured the sleep deprivation caught up, Kon carried you to bed, we wanted to wait until you were awake to finish the discussion about everything."

Tim breathes he wants to know everything Bart knows but logically this doesn't just concern them if Jason has a kid he has to inform him. Nevermind that he needs to get back to Gotham and talk to everybody.

"Ok, I think we all should head to Gotham, I can call a family meeting, Bart can finish saying whatever he knows to everyone, because I don't think it's fair that we sit with information that could effect everyone, but I don't just want to decided or do anything I already did, something pretty big without talking to you guys."

"I agree mostly the cave would be the best place, I'm not exactly ecstatic about talking to everyone. I think Rob's right, also I want Jon to meet his nephew."

Kon brings up a point that he hadn't factored in Bruce is a grandfather now Dick is a uncle so is Jason and Damian. He also kinda really wants to show off his baby he finally understands why Bruce keeps photos of them all in his wallet.

"I agree Diana is gonna be all over our little hellraiser and it's a lot easier if we just gather everyone up and do one giant explanation, than doing it a million times. Also I don't know about anyone else but free babysitting is a perk, kiddo didn't want to sleep at all most likely cause Mom passed out on the floor but who knows?"

Tim can't disagree other than, wait why is he mom?

"Tim you talked in your sleep and were very offended that Dad has baby memorie before Mom cause you created him."

Kon laughs distracting him with his sparkly eyes, how unfair.

"I didn't mean to say that out loud and yes I did all the complicated stuff so I will be Mom if I want to although I will share with Cassie if I have to." He pouts. 

It's surreal that he really does mean that and for some reason mom or dad it doesn't matter one bit he has a little baby, his own baby bird.

"Alright boys I think we should get a move on, Tim send out a message and have Batman gather everyone up, he will probably have an easier time then we would."

He grabs his phone he didn't even realize that he had it luckly it's late enough in the day that work and school for everyone shouldn't be a problem.

He texts both Bruce and Alfred that something happened no one is hurt, but he needs everyone in the cave from Supers, Bats, Titans, Outlaws, Wonder Woman's essentially if we would want them to know something important they need to be there as fast as possible.

Not even ten seconds later his phone rings which he expected.

"Tim what's happening?"

He's terrified it's really setting in that he has a a kid.

That he has to tell Bruce.

Yet he's relieved it's Batman, It's Bruce, it's Dad.

He fix anything and hopefully teach him how to change a diaper.

He can't stop the sob that follows.

"I just need you to do this, please Dad it's... I did something stupid, but so amazing and just please I need you ok. I am coming with Young Justice it involves all of us and make sure our family's there, just please. I can't explain over the phone."

"Ok sweetheart I don't know what's going on but it will be ok. Anything can be figured out. Alfred is calling everyone will be here in about an hour. Are you ok? Injuried?"

"No I'm ok just make sure everyone's there Dick, Alfred just we need them. I'll be there in about an hour and a half. I love you."

He hangs up.

-

Bruce is terrified he never dialed so quickly in his life and his son sounds well upset doesn't even begin to cover it, but he knows it's important he only had to look at Alfred before he was calling Jason who was already with Roy picking up Lian.

Dick, Damian, Duke, Cass already are waiting in the cave he practically screamed for them to get down here.

Alfred quietly informing them that something happened and that everyone needs to get to the cave.

Bruce can't move he hears Jason come in but he can't greet him.

Soon the Titans arrive conversing with mainly Roy and Dick.

Clark, Diana and Barry arrive soon after.

He sees Jon talking quietly with Damian finally he gets up.

Looks at his children, teammates and everyone he could possible think of might need to know about a catastrophic event.

He clears his throat.

"I received a message from Young Justice, I don't know what happened, all I know is it's something major apperently no one is injured but they need us I expect whatever is going on is upsetting they will need our support."

He looks at his boys and Cass trying to push reassurance but he doesn't succeed.

Clark and Diana look two seconds away from flying to Titans Tower only stopped by Alfred.

It's been a little over an hour and Bruce wants nothing more than to hunt down his son, and wrap him in his cape but he's stopped by Zeta Tube turning on.

Everyone turns.

Out steps an exhausted looking Connor Kent, followed by Cassie Sandsmark who shoot a quick smile at Bruce which immediately confuses him.

They both block the zeta glaring at everyone until Bart Allen appears holding up a clearly exhausted Tim who still has tear tracks on his face.

He looks like he is gonna drop at any minute but before Bruce can rush to his son.

Tim steps away from all three wrapped in Superboy's Jacket.

The leather falls.

There's a baby.

A exhausted grin comes across Tim's face before he speaks.

"I had a baby, these are the parents also Bart has a story to share...... Surprise?"

Before Bruce can even blink Dick is across the room followed by Jason.

Jason who quickly steals the bundle with a soft coo.

Dick kisses Tim's forehead before picking him up

"I gotcha little brother, to the med bay we go."

Jason follows a step behind purposefully keeping the baby in sight of his third son.

It takes less than a minute before Alfred is checking over Tim only to be quickly interrupted by Kon who is laughing.

"Rob, that phasing could use some work, yes we have a baby, he did not however give birth to it in the traditional sense. Not that I don't agree with the coddling he deserves it. What I want to know is why exactly did you people just steal our kid, if Mom needs a break he's got three Dads over here."

Dick interrupts from his place by Tim's side.

"My little brother is my priority he will be taken care of by me. I assume little brother goes where baby goes so baby will also be taken care of by me. I also could care less of how Littlest Bird came to be, all that matters is my brother and the baby are healthy and ok."

He glares straight at Connor which Bruce quickly joins him how dare that boy. His baby had a baby. He needs his family.

Everyone is still frozen other than his boys.

He walks over to Jason to get a closer look at his granddaughter based off the pink blanket.

He wants to hold her and keep her safe until Tim can but Jason looks two seconds away from shooting anyone who gets to close so she will be perfectly safe.

He will check on his baby instead.

He kisses Tim on the forehead who is being prescribed rest and fluids by Alfred. He will also not be walking anywhere for the foreseeable future he is assuming that there wasn't an actual birth but any excuse to carry his children he will take it.

Damian, and Cass have joined around Tim. Clearly both on guard with their brother so clearly vulnerable. 

"I am really glad you guys are taking it so well, but Bart has important information for us all, and Jay, I would like my baby and maybe a hug from Dick in that order."

Quickly she is given back to Tim and Dick joins wrapping around them a soft smile directed at them both.

"Yeah it might be best if I start talking, cause I think Rob is gonna kill me if I don't."

[hugsandchaos]

Follow-up to Halfa Dash AU

Believe it or not, Danny starts to get jealous of Dash. In his eyes, Dash got everything while he got little to nothing. Everyone in town knows Dash’s “secret” and work to hide him from the GIW or prying eyes. Valerie and the Fentons work together with him, and Vlad learned to let go of his anger a long time ago and isn’t in the picture.

When Danny helped in his universe, he was called a menace for accidentally causing property damage in ghost fights, half of which is caused by the other ghost attacking him and the other half is Danny being thrown at buildings or the ground, so he literally has no control over it! Even when he tried! He still tried to help the best he could, but it was never enough for the town.

“I gave all I could for them, and then some, but what did I get? Hunted! Torn open! I didn’t expect anything, not even a thank you!”

When Dash does it, he’s considered a hero, gets pats on the back, that kind of stuff. His fire core in still underdeveloped, but he warms up the area when he’s in ghost form. People love that, unless people are already hot and sweating, but no one lashes out. Danny’s ice core lowers the room temperature, and sometimes his body temperature. No one wants to hold hands that are cold.

As you can tell, Danny is pissed about this. He’s happy Dash doesn’t have to deal with what he did, but he’s still pissed.

As for Sam and Tucker, I have two ideas.

They went along with him to the alternate universe, where none of them existed, and all live and work together to get by and help each other out. There was no way they were leaving him alone.

The alternate Sam and Tucker like Dash. They think he’s a pretty chill guy, and they don’t understand why Danny keeps avoiding him or flinching. A part of Danny feels betrayed by this, even though he knows they’re not the Sam and Tucker he knew.

I think the last straw for Danny would either be Vlad or Lancer.

When Vlad comes into the picture, he’s not just… well, not a fruit loop, but he helps Dash! He helps him with his ghost powers, he teaches him, and Jack, and Maddie! He gives tips and advice on what to expect in the future and how to deal with it, and gives him his number incase he needs him!

Danny’s anger reaches a whole new peak.

If it’s Lancer, then it’s when he figures out that Danny has no parents and is living on his own. When he talks to Danny about this after school, he blows up at him. He goes on a rant about how Lancer thinks that he knows what’s best for him when he doesn’t know the full story. He lets it slip that he’s from another universe and had really bad experiences that made it hard for him to trust people and asks how he can be sure this isn’t a trap of some kind.

Eyes are glowing green, the room is freezing, and Danny’s cussing while trying not to have a mental breakdown and failing. He doesn’t want to be put into any adoption or foster care, especially with some strangers, and he’s determined to not let that happen. If anyone, he’d allow Frostbite to adopt him.

Surprisingly, this Frostbite and the one he first met are very similar and recognize him. It’s as if they’re actually the same! Like the Ghost Zone didn’t change, or at least, the Far Frozen didn’t.

Or maybe I can add the Nightingale Family from the PenPal AU! They’d be the one able to adopt him because he meets them all over again, and they’re some of the few people who are still the same. He knows he can trust them, so when they offer adoption, his answer is yes and a big hug.

I think that eventually, he and Dash might have a rivalry-type friendship. Ish. Danny’s constantly pushing Dash to get better with his skills. Dash likes to challenge him to a sparring match or race. Or maybe it’s like this closer to the start, but Danny’s genuinely mad under the mask. He’ll start to appreciate this Dash sooner or later.

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Plastic Off The Sofa

Fem!Reader

Summary: Rest when one is injured it is important to take as to not strain an injury any further. It is equally important to take care of those who have been injured and check in on them to make sure they are okay.

Words: 2,982

AN: This fic is inspired by the song of the same name. I highly recommend you go give it a listen if you. haven't heard it yet. It's a song that discusses a deep love where you are willing to put everything on the table and accept each other's flaws. It very much fits how I see these two

It was rare that Y/N took a sick day. Most times when she did it would land on days she was to work on the surface, which made today a double rare. She was sitting on the sofa in her apartment taking a sick day forcing herself to listen to her own advice and rest. She wasn't ill. Not even seasonal allergies were causing a sniffle. Y/N had spent the day before teaching her younger cousins different dancing techniques. It was a fairly normal occurrence for her. But with an unlucky fall and the pain she felt from her ankle, there was no way she'd be able to easily move in the Fortress. Hell, there wouldn't even be an easy way of getting to the Fortress.

So all she could do was sit on her sofa and rest her ankle. At least she had books she could focus on getting caught up on. Most of the day had been spent resting much to her annoyance. Despite getting rest, she felt restless like she needed to move around already. At least by tomorrow morning, she should be able to walk with little interference from her ankle.

Her mother had dropped by around noon to check on her with lunch in tow. Along with the get-well cards her younger cousins had made so fast. It was quite sweet of everyone. It's not like it was a major injury. She had gone through small ones like this every three or four years. There really was no big fuss to be made over it. Yet, the fuss they were making was still touching. Bringing comfort knowing that if it had been worse her family would be there for her.

So she sat there on her sofa too engrossed in her book to notice that it wasn't her mother knocking at her door. “You know where the key is!” She yelled out. It's something her mother never had taken the wrong way. If anything it was something they had become used to yelling at each other every now and then. It was a simple way of just letting the other know that they couldn’t make it to the door quickly.

She flipped a page in her book as her front door opened. Her back was to the door. “I told you I would be fine to make something small for dinner. You do understand I can still take care of myself, mama.” 

“Last I checked I wasn't your mother,” Wriothesley spoke before closing the door to her home.

Y/N's eyes widened as she quickly closed her book placing it on the coffee table before rushing to tighten the robe she had over the short nightgown. “What are you doing here?” She felt severely undressed for company with the cool touch of the silks feeling like flames against her skin now.

“I had some papers I had to drop off for Neuvillette and I figured I could at least come by and check on you.” It was hard not to let his eyes drink in the sight of his girlfriend. She looked relaxed with how dressed down she was. If anything it made him feel a bit overdressed for his visit.

She kept her eyes away from him, avoiding turning around to face him. Her face felt so warm. “I appreciate the visit. I just had a bad fall yesterday. I've just been following the advice I'd give to anyone else today.”

“It's good to know you're okay.” He let out a small laugh watching her struggle to use the dainty robe to cover up more. He took his jacket off and moved closer to the sofa. He placed the jacket on the front of her which she had been trying to cover up. “Better?”

“Thank you. To be fair I didn't expect any company other than my mother. If I knew you were going to stop by I would have gotten dressed. This just feels a bit inappropriate.” She pulled the jacket close using it as a way to hide that she remained in her pajamas all day long.

“You're overthinking again.”

“No, I'm not overthinking. I should go get dressed.” She reasoned as a quick way to fix her predicament.

“Yes, you are. You were in nothing but one of my shirts last week lying in my bed. I think we've crossed that line a long time ago to call what you're wearing inappropriate.” If it had been a year ago before they had gotten together, he would have given her privacy to go change. He probably wouldn't have even shown up at her doorstep. Wriothesley thought the shyness of seeing each other's bodies had already left that first night they had been together in his bed.

“But silks just feel more exposing than one of your shirts. Doesn’t help that I wasn't expecting to see you today.” The last sentence she spoke came out a bit more mumbled than the first.

Wriothesley laughed before leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Let’s agree to disagree on this one.” He tried lightening her mood. “Am I at least allowed to sit next to you while you tell me what happened to your ankle? Or are you just gonna sit here being a shy mess?” 

She frowned at his teasing. It sucked not being able to think of a good comeback. With her luck, she would probably be able to think of one long after the time had passed. “I guess you can sit next to me. And are you sure you want to know what happened to my ankle? It’s not that interesting.” She warned.

“It's the least you could do. The woman who subbed in for you practically interrogated me about how we were doing?”  Wriothesley shook his head at the memory of the morning.

“Was she short with red hair?” She moved over enough, creating room on the sofa for Wriothesley.

He sat down placing his arm on the backrest of the sofa. He tried to be comfortable while also giving her just enough space. Had it gone his way, she would have been curled up in his arms as they talked of their day. “Yeah, she had a nose ring too.”

Y/N leaned her back against him. Maybe she had been overthinking earlier. Sometimes it was easier to accept that fact even if she wasn’t sure of what exactly had caused her overthinking. “Elizabeth means well. She's just always getting her heart broken and just doesn't want it to happen to anyone else.” 

“Could have fooled me. It felt like she was waiting for me to slip up.”

Y/N laughed. “Well, I'll let you know if you passed her test.”

“Now what happened to your ankle?” He asked still wanting to know what had happened even if she found it to be a boring tale.

“I was teaching some of my cousins different techniques for dance. I was demonstrating something from ballet when my aunt's dog thought that would be a wonderful time to jump at me. See nothing that interesting.” She downplayed the simple event.

“You know ballet?” Wriothesley asked wondering how it hadn’t been brought up before.

“Navia wasn’t lying when she told you my mother put me in so many dance classes.”

“I just didn't think you were the ballet type.”

“It's not like I have a reason to talk about dance with you. Even then I don't practice It anymore. Haven't for the past seven years.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s nice, it's just not what I wanted to do in life.” She explained not feeling the need to go any further. It wasn’t important to discuss. There was no need to focus on what she considered a small unimportant aspect of her life.

Wriothesley nodded in understanding. “So what have you been doing while you were resting?”

“Mostly reading. It has been a day of rest. I’ve done nothing of interest.”

“Was The book interesting at least?”

“It's interesting but not cause it's good kind of interesting. One of the ladies at work thought it would be fun to have a monthly book club. I just didn't think that this was her taste.” She thought back on what she had read throughout the day questioning if she should have just stuck to something she would have chosen for herself.

Wriothesley moved his free arm towards the book that lay on her coffee table. He picked up the book looking at the cover. “I'm glad that's the reason you're reading this. And you had me thinking I wasn't doing well enough in the romance department.” He teased as he put the book back. It was a book that had made its way into the Fortress a few years back making it something he had checked out of curiosity. 

“What would possibly make you think that?” She asked, entertaining his nonsense.

“You see, my girlfriend doesn't care to explain to me everything that happened to her ankle.” He began listing. “She suddenly finds it inappropriate for me to see her in silks despite having seen her in far less.”

“Wriothesley, did you come here to check on me or tease me?”

He ignored her second question remaining focused on her first one. “What's worse is that if she's worried about what she's wearing around me, I'll never get to kiss her. It would be horrible to make her uncomfortable.” He was being overly dramatic just to continue teasing her, even if his dramaticness contained an ounce of truth.

“You have issues, Ri.” She rolled her eyes with a smile before sitting up. Her words had no bite remaining playful, even when what she had said was something that held a level of truth. His jacket fell off of her onto the sofa as she moved. “I'm going to go get changed.” Y/N stood up making sure not to put too much weight on her hurt ankle.

“What if I don't want you to?” It was a question that was a tad selfish but it didn't hurt to say what was wanted. It wasn't like his wants were being forced on her. However, her wanting to change did make him question things. So all he could do was push the boundaries they had already broken once before. “How could I judge you for being comfortable in your own home when I'm the one who showed up unexpectedly?”

“Wriothesley…” her voice trailed off.

“I want you to be comfortable around me.” He tried playing it off with a laugh. Maybe he was just thinking too much into things himself. “Maybe I should just let you rest before I talk too much.” His words were softer as he forced out the sentence.

She looked at his face slightly defeated but filled with longing eyes. “I like hearing you talk.” She sat back down next to him. “You know I wouldn't have even told you where I hid the extra key if I didn't feel comfortable around you.”

“Yeah, I know. I just probably need to go back and get proper rest if I'm talking like this.” Wriothesley explained to not worry her. 

“Maybe I let my overthinking get the best of me. Don't let it get the best of you too.” Y/N placed her hand on his cheek. “How am I supposed to listen about getting out my own head if you just start doing what I do? You've done everything to make me feel comfortable around you. You’re even good about asking if I'm comfortable with the smallest things.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I know I'm not the nicest-looking guy around. I think I saw a kid hide behind their mom on the way over.”

“And I'm sure you gave them the sweetest smile.” Y/N placed a hand on his thigh giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know I said that I'm dressed inappropriately but I think it’s just the shock of you being here. I  got used to only having my mom check on me. I do appreciate that you’re here. I wasn’t expecting it even if you’re just here cause you had to drop something off.”

“I would have checked on you regardless. If not me going on my own, I'm sure Sigewinne would have dragged on up here.”

Y/N laughed at the mental image of his words. “It is funny to see her dragging you to the infirmary. I think it was my first month down there when I saw that for the first time.”

“She made a big deal out of it that time. I was nowhere near needing to go to the infirmary.”  Wriothesley shook his head at the memory.

“I thought it was cute.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don't think I would call that cute.”

“It calmed my nerves down back then. You know I only started working in the fortress as a way to get away from my problems.” She shook her head at her past self and smiled at what that choice had brought her in the end. “It might have been one of the few times I smiled that month. Seeing that you let Sigewinne drag you around was very cute.”

“I still wouldn't call it could cute.”

“Would you rather I call you cute?” She was half teasing.

“By any chance when you fell, did you hit your head too?” He teased back with a smirk knowing how her reaction was bound to go.

“You try standing balanced on your toes with a dog running at you!” She crossed her arms leaning back into a sofa before looking away from him. “I can't believe I attempted to give you a genuine compliment and you think it's out of an injury. I'm starting to think you really did come over to tease me.”

Wriothesley’s hand dropped from the back of the sofa onto her shoulder pulling her in close. “I haven't teased you once yet.”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turned her head towards him. “Now I know for sure you are just messing with me.” She tried to force a laugh down. “Quit looking at me like that.”

“Is it wrong to admire you?”

“You look like you are planning to do more than just admire me.”

“Only if you let me.”

“I let you know where the key to my home lies. I let you stay in my home despite your unannounced visit. I let you see me in my nightwear. Yet you still ask if I will let you. I think you know what I'll let you d-”

Was it right of Wriothesley to shut her up with a kiss? Considering the mini speech she gave it felt entirely right. Which only became reinforced by how she melted into the kiss. To be fair all he had craved was a few short kisses from her at least to make up for the ones he would steal from her while she was supposed to be working in the Fortress. They were always worth it even though every time she’d kick him out of the infirmary unable to hold back a smile or a laugh. 

Y/N had pulled away from the kiss, moving herself onto his lap effectively caging him in on the sofa.

“I thought your ankle was hurting.”

“I’ve been resting all day. I’ll be fine.”  Her hands had wandered onto his chest where she had begun to play with his tie, giving it a pull ever so lightly bringing him closer.

“Just making sure. I wouldn’t want you stressing your injury just cause eager for anothe-” He had been caught off guard,  a welcomed change.

Y/N pulled him in close, placing a peck on his lips. “You definitely don't get to judge how I take care of an injury. I think I've lost count of how many times I've had to get on you about taking care of yourself.” The unintended double entendre lost on her for a second.

“I might listen more if you got on me like this.” Wriothesley kept a hand on her back keeping her close. The other hand was left on her thigh almost still as his thumb traced small circles.

Y/N barely had a chance to roll her eyes before she had been kissed again. She pulled away only for Wriothesley to keep planting kisses on her face. “I doubt you would.”

He spoke between kisses. “I’d listen to you read one of those medical books I see you going over on your breaks.”

She laughed. “You mean the medical records I’m writing in while I’m working?”

He kissed her once again. “Yes, those.”

“I know you’re joking but that is very much against the law for me to read to you unless it involves me trying to get a patient to the surface for more intense medical care.”

He leaned his head back. “I know what I said but if you start explaining anything like that for work again right now I will just leave to pick up dinner for us instead.” He warned, trying not to let their mood get ruined.

“You're lucky. I could have gone into chemical formulas or how there's a painkiller derived from mold.” She joked partially. There had been quite a large number of times that Wriothesley had walked in on a long discussion on the origins of certain drugs. As much as he cared for her, it was one of the driest conversations to ever witness repeatedly.

Wriothesley rolled his eyes. “I am begging you to shut up.”

“Do better at making sure I can't talk then.” She knew her words were bait, a challenge that she hoped he would take. Her face looked akin to a siren that was ready to invite him underneath the waves. And Wriothesley was happily willing to make good on what she told him to do.

[weemsfreak]

Hello! I was wondering if you would write for Gwen (in fabric). There are not many stories about her and I neeedd her. Anything you'd like, please!

The Big Bang

Hello! I would love to! Recently I have been on a Miranda/Jane Murdstone/Gwen spree (Larissa is still the loml) butt I did have a smut idea for Gwen from In Fabric, because well, it's Gwen.

Enjoy!!

Summary: Gwen In Fabric x Reader. Smut with plot. You and Gwen share an art studio and find yourselves working late at night.

→ Warnings: smoking, alcohol, fingering, cunnilingus, grinding, smut, etc.

*☆…*☆…*☆…

You held your key up to the door, attempting to unlock it despite the fact that you couldn't see. It beeped, and you entered the large room, not bothering to flick on any lights until you got to your art space and turned on your lamp.

Scanning your eyes over your current work, you shook your head over every little detail.

This was going to be a long night.

Stopping in the small break room, you leaned against the counter as your coffee reheated.

You loved working at night, blessed to have the opportunity to rent out a space that you had access to always.

You were more productive at night, your creativity flowing more easily.

Making your way back to your space and placing your coffee down, you looked around.

Usually it was dark, as you were alone, but tonight it seemed rather bright.

You peaked around your easel and paintings, finding Gwen's space lit up, to your delight.

Excitedly you walked over, but her space was empty. You shrugged and admired her recent works; as expected, they were dark and rather…attention grabbing.

*☆…

At least 20 minutes had passed as you made minor adjustments to your realism painting.

You were deep in thought as you bent down to pick your brushes up off of the floor, standing and suddenly feeling claustrophobic in your space. It felt as if you had become confined, like something or someone was right beside you.

You whipped your head around to find Gwen, maybe a foot away, smiling down at you with intent.

You screamed, heart stopping, causing you to drop all of your brushes.

"Gwen, what the fuck?!" you said in a panic.

She snickered and averted her gaze to your art, "I can't believe you didn't notice me here, doll."

You tried to catch your breath as you checked your pulse. "I saw your lamp on, but I figured you had been here earlier."

She looked to you with a smirk before picking up your brushes and handing them to you.

"What are you doing here this late? I don't usually see you."

She shrugged, "Art is my night activity now, I teach French lessons during the day." 

You nodded, wanting to ask what her previous night activity was, but you were sure you already knew the answer.

"This is coming together nicely, I really like what you did here."

You looked closer at what she was pointing to, ah, the spot that you were stuck on; you thought it looked like garbage.

Gwen liked it, which was a relief. Though, she painted abstract, and Gwen was grounds for all things out of the ordinary.

"Come see what I've got on the go" she grinned, grabbing your hand and leading you to her work space.

She sat on her stool and watched as your eyes raked over her painting.

It was definitely abstract, but not very colorful. Different shades of black and red, it looked like…two girls? In a weird position?

They were in space, you guessed, with some glowing balls of hot gas floating around.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tilted your head, "I like the black and white with the pop of red. It's …extremely creative."

Gwen looked up at you and wiggled her eyebrows, "I call it 'The Big Bang'."

Yep, yea, it was two girls banging.

You were honestly amused.

*☆…

A couple hours went by as you hummed to music and perfected your painting.

You then stopped for a snack break and figured you'd offer something to Gwen.

Walking over to her space, you found her boots thrown to the side, her bare feet covered in paint.

"Umm, what is going on?"

She stepped carefully onto a blank canvas, making neat footprints on the white background.

"I'm going to sell this to a guy from Wyoming."

She looked to you in total seriousness, "He likes art, and my feet. Probably because I'm tall."

You watched with your mouth agape as she dipped her foot into more paint and stepped onto the canvas with care.

She shrugged, "It's almost as good as feet pics."

It was too damn late for this, this was some unhinged shit; but hey, at least the woman knew how to make money.

"I uh- I was going to ask if you wanted a snack?"

Gwen looked at you, "What have you got?"

"A protein bar"

You held it out to her and she took it.

*☆…

You had made progress, almost finished (you hoped) of your painting.

Washing out your brushes and tidying your area, you decided to go for a walk.

It may have been like 2am, but you loved a late night walk.

You shut off your lamp and left your bag on the table, planning on coming back. But as you walked to the door, Gwen screamed your name.

"God, I'm not deaf" you said, turning around to face her.

You watched her stride up to you, wearing her platform boots again, thank fuck.

She tilted her head and winked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Honey, I'm not god, but I can make you believe that I am."

Your jaw dropped as you shook your head, a dark blush colouring your face.

You knew Gwen was lustful and outgoing, but lately she has been (very obviously) hitting on you.

"Where are you going?"

You looked to the door and then back at her, "For a walk."

She turned and went to her spot, pulling her bag onto her shoulder. "Not without me."

You then watched her stomp past you and out the door with a sway to her hips.

*☆…

Walking around the block in the warm night, Gwen pulled out a cigarette, offering you one.

"So, do you only do realism?"

"90% of the time, yeah."

You looked to her as she stuck the cigarette between her lips and attempted to adjust her bra strap underneath her layers.

"What else do you do?"

"I used to do abstract."

Gwen's gaze met yours as she chuckled, "I used to do realism."

*☆…

"Do you believe in fate?"

You looked over at Gwen questioningly, her head resting against the back of the bench as her blues scanned the stars.

You did the same.

"Um, well, I believe that our choices shape our reality, and maybe there are alternate universes in which we are vastly different."

You could feel her staring, so you paused, turning your head to meet her gaze.

"But, I also believe that we're only destined to do the things that we'd do anyway."

Gwen sat up, dusting off her skirt and ripped tights.

"Would you do me?"

You looked up at her as your eyebrows furrowed in question, snickering, "What?"

She looked away with a grin on her face, "You would" she murmured.

*☆…

Making your way back to the studio, Gwen drug you to her space once again.

You sat on a stool next to her and watched as she added to 'The Big Bang'.

"So, I was thinking for my next project, maybe something to do with dinosaurs?"

You nodded, lost in space as you stared at the way her long fingers flexed with the movement of the paint brush.

Gwen knew that you were watching her, stealing glances at you out of the corner of her eye. It thrilled and motivated her.

"Did I tell you about my ex? Oh, it's an insaneeee story."

As Gwen talked, you half paid attention and half let your eyes roam over her figure, from her face to her breasts, to her dark outfit and long legs.

Honestly, you were too tired to really listen to her story. All you knew was, she was beautiful, and interesting.

She was passionate and seductive, with an insatiable appetite; she was stunning.

When she was finished painting, she stood to throw her brushes into the water; leaning over you, her breasts in your face as she did. You leaned back with wide eyes.

"Let's go see how your painting is going" she cooed.

*☆…

You made another cup of coffee and emerged from the break room to find Gwen staring at your painting, nose almost touching it as she took in the detail.

"Do you ever paint people?"

You sat on your stool and looked up at her, "I have, but I'm not very good at it, so I don't."

She looked down with a blank expression before frantically eyeing your space. For what? You didn’t know.

"Will you paint me?"

You tilted your head in confusion as her hopeful blue eyes stared down at you. "I'm not the best at painting people" you repeated.

Gwen waved her hand in dismissal, "Nonsense, I want you to paint me."

She moved closer and bent down to your level, placing a hand onto your thigh.

"I want whatever you'll give me. And I'll pay."

You considered it for a moment, eyeing her up and down.

Feeling bold, you brought your face closer to hers and bit at your bottom lip, gazing between her eyes and lips.

"Alright."

*☆…

Friday night you set up a blank canvas and paints as you waited for Gwen to arrive.

You had told her to wear whatever she wanted, as long as she brought you some rum.

She entered, passing you a bottle, "Hi dollface."

"Hello honey" you smiled, taking a swig.

You got out your brushes and planned your piece while she undressed at her space.

Rounding the corner she stood in front of you, eagerly biting at her nails as she placed a hand on her hip, grinning mischievously down at you.

You were relieved that she choose to wear a black lingerie set, definitely not as bad as it could've been, considering it was Gwen.

You had moved a couch closer to your space, you gestured to it.

"Get into the position you want, I'll be right back."

Quickly you went to the break room, grabbing a couple of waters.

You returned and got out your pencil, peering around your canvas. Your jaw dropped instantly, heart skipping a beat as if you had been frightened, again.

Setting your wide eyes back on the canvas, you cleared your throat.

"Gwen, why are you naked?"

Gwen laughed as she fiddled with the obsidian around her neck.

"I want you to draw me like one of your French girls" she purred.

You sighed, picking up the rum and taking a big gulp.

"Were not on the fucking Titanic."

You'd admit that her voice made you feel something, the image of her on the couch naked with an arm over her head made your stomach turn pleasantly. Good god, this woman.

Gwen let out a soft hum that sounded more like a moan, "But we could pretend we are."

You rolled your eyes, "What if someone comes in?"

Gwen scoffed, "Nobody comes here this late, except for us. And if they do, they'll get a treat."

You pursed your lips in attempt to conceal your smirk, and peered around the canvas once more. "There you are" she cooed.

*☆…

You sketched and painted Gwen, admitting to yourself that it was going rather well.

Long legs, the pose showing off all that she wished to offer, and her pretty face, it was a masterpiece.

You hoped to capture her enigmatic essence at least to some degree, but your work was far from finished.

Gwen was really beautiful, truly, but it wasn't until you finished the main part of the painting that you realized how hot you were, your cheeks a deep red and your hands shaky.

"Okay, done."

You heard nothing for a moment as you fixed up some details, then, her heeled steps shuffled closer as she came into your view. Your gaze shot up to her face as she looked over your work.

"It's beautiful, dear."

Her fingers hovered over the painting as she admired it.

"I know it will be a masterpiece when it's done."

Smiling, you surprisingly agreed.

Gwen placed a hand on your shoulder and took a step closer to you.

She was tall, making you feel awkward at this height, sitting on the stool; and so you stood.

Gwen looked you over as you stood, a smirk pulling at her lips.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

You were sure it was a sarcastic question, or degrading.

Your heartbeat quickened as you shook your head, "No, nope, I'm good."

She turned to face you, your height difference making it challenging not to look at her breasts.

Still, you craned your neck to keep your eyes on her face.

"It seems that you won't look anywhere below my face, is that true?" she questioned, tilting her head in faux sorrow.

You blinked and shook your head in disagreement.

She smirked, narrowing her eyes at you.

"You just painted me naked, took in all my curves and..details, and now you can't look at me?"

Your eyes widened as you swallowed, "You're just, uh- so close now."

Gwen reached out and took your hand in hers, dropping her voice an octave.

"Are you scared that if you look you'll want to touch?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart now pounding. You swallowed thickly, then nodded.

She guided your hand to her waist, the urge to rake your eyes over her soft skin overwhelming you.

Taking your other hand in hers, she pressed herself against you, shocking you with her action.

"You can touch, honey" she whispered, slowly bringing your hand to her breast.

You gasped and breathed out into her shoulder as you felt her flesh against your hand.

The feel of her bare chest against yours made you want to rip off your shirt just to feel her. To really feel her.

"Gwen I-" She brought her finger to your lips and forced it lightly into your mouth, her skin sweet yet salty.

"Shh love, no questions or concerns, not now."

She removed her finger and pulled you tighter against her, whispering in your ear. "Do you want this? Do you want me?"

You held in a whimper, squeezing her breast lightly, "I do."

Gwen took in a breath as she pulled away, bringing her lips to your neck.

You moved both hands to her breasts, squeezing as you closed your eyes and focused on her touch.

She swiped her tongue up the expanse of your neck, and you couldn't help but squeeze your legs together and plead, "Please, Gwen."

Gwen chuckled, tickling your skin as she brought her hands to the hem of your shirt and pulled it off.

She cupped your face in her hands and pulled you closer, "Beautiful doll. Let loose for me."

You smiled sheepishly and nodded, "Okay Gwen."

Suddenly, she pressed her lips to yours, sticking her tongue into your mouth almost instantly.

You got lost in the way she forcefully yet gently let her lips slide against yours, whimpering into her mouth.

She pulled away for a moment, quickly undoing your bra and throwing it to the floor.

She pulled you back to her and pressed her breasts against yours, you tried to stifle a moan.

Gwen then brought her hands to your pants and undid them, sliding them down your legs, catching you off guard.

You let out a small gasp as you leaned on her for support and kicked them off.

She chuckled, "I felt weird being the only one naked."

You rolled your eyes and spoke sarcastically, "I'm sure you did."

She grasped your thighs unexpectedly and lifted you up to straddle her waist.

She met your lips as she walked to the couch and sat you on her lap.

You wrapped your hands around her neck, pulling her closer and sucking her bottom lip between your teeth as she pulled your hips into her own. You let her hands guide your hips against hers as you kissed down to her collarbones, then her chest, and lower.

You sucked on her full breasts, humming as you left red marks on the pale flesh and moved to her nipples.

You circled them gently as your head spun with desire, surprised when Gwen sneakily brought a hand to your heat and swiped a finger through your folds.

As you gasped in shock and pleasure, you slightly bit down on her nipple, making her jolt.

"Oh sweetie, do you need me?" she breathed.

You sat tall and smashed your lips to hers, hoping to muffle your moans as if you knew what was coming.

Gwen wanted a response, but she figured that this was enough, for it turned her on immensely.

She carefully yet quickly inserted a finger into you, setting a steady pace.

You licked into her mouth hoping to stifle your mewls, but she dominated you as she forced her tongue into yours.

Moaning against her lips, you felt her insert another finger and curl them up into you.

As you relished in the feeling of her filling you up, you realized how long her fingers were, and you revelled in a  desperate feeling that you had never felt before.

You gasped for air as she picked up her pace, shoving your face into her neck and whimpering against her skin.

"Shit Gwen, please, please" you pleaded as you ground down onto her fingers.

Gwen smirked as she added another, watching as you writhed on top of her. You moved your grip from her shoulders to her head, weaving your fingers through her hair.

She breathed into your neck, "You feel amazing, come for me doll."

You couldn't hold out any longer, coming with a loud groan of her name as you felt her fingers continue their assault. She eventually slowed and you clutched her body to yours, not wanting her to pull away.

When you recovered, you responded by licking down her breasts and stomach, stepping off of the couch as you got to your knees. Placing your hands on her waist, you began to kiss her lower legs and work your way up to her hips. Gwen parted her legs in anticipation as you continued to lick and nip at her pale thighs.

As you reached her dark centre, you could see the shine of her arousal, and you breathed deeply in anticipation.

You watched as she brought a hand to her breast, her other to your head as she pushed you closer to her with force. She then ran her fingers through your hair, waiting for you to make your move.

You chuckled giddily and wrapped your hands under her thighs, pulling her toward you, opening her legs wider as you did so. With need you moved closer, trailing your tongue up her folds softly. You slowly flicked your tongue over her clit and down to her entrance, digging your fingers into her the flesh of her thighs.

You pushed your tongue into her as she squirmed, then flattened your tongue as she began to grind against it. Her fingers wound your hair tight as she let out whimpers and deep moans. Groaning into her flesh, your legs spread involuntarily at her sweet sounds.

"Oh honey, please, faster" Gwen begged. Her moans were turning you on immensely, you went faster, getting caught up in the sound of her raspy voice. You couldn't help but moan against her at the pain of her heel digging into your back, your thighs becoming drenched.

Suddenly, Gwen leaned forward and pulled you up by your hair, turning you around and pushing you back onto the couch. You grunted as you fell, looking up at her wide eyed and even more turned on.

"Spread your legs" she demanded. You did as told, watching impatiently as she settled on top of you, one leg under yours and the other over, lining up your core with hers.

She bent down and slipped her tongue into your mouth, moaning as she felt the wetness between your legs.

"You're drenched baby" she purred, placing a hand on your ass to gain more friction. You moaned rather loudly as she rubbed against you, grabbing her hips and squeezing.

"Shit, Gwen!" you breathed, closing your eyes in bliss as she pressed you down into the couch.

She grinded against you frantically, your release fast approaching as she whimpered against you, sinking her teeth into your shoulder. You gasped into her hair, breath shallow and eyes threatening to close as Gwen pressed her forehead against yours, her mouth open in pleasure.

You came right there and then when you saw the need in her eyes, the pleasure written on her face. You threw your head back in bliss as she did the same, moaning your name as she let you down from your release.

You were both sweaty as she leaned forward and kissed your chest, your breaths evening out.

Gwen kissed you on the forehead and ran her fingers through your hair, hugging you to bring you comfort.

She chuckled against you and closed her eyes happily, "This is what 'the big bang' is all about."

You couldn't get enough of Gwen, laughing at the thought of being in space; you wished that you were.

You kissed her on the cheek as she sat up slightly and she looked down at you, "I'd love to paint you next time" she purred with a wink.

[arthurtaylorlester]

malevolent season 4 was... something, that's for sure

i want to preface this by saying i LOVE malevolent as a show and this is no means an attack on the creator or anything like that, i don't think i'll ever stop listening halfway, no matter how i feel about it. i'm not saying season 4 is all bad either.

it is a deviation for malevolent, though i found it VERY well written up until part 31 (and part 31 is my favourite malevolent episode ever)

s4 started off really strong for me, part 29 set the tone really well, much lighter after s3's emotional lows. the butcher was an interesting enough new villain to put yarson aside for now. part 30 had some charming moments, but the real star of the early season was part 31, a truly incredibly written and directed look into arthur's psychology. it truly gave us everything, from lore to highly comedic moments (to me)(no because why was arthur dreaming of waking up next to a shirtless man who tried to kill him)

parts 32 through 34 i'm not sure about, but i can write them off as awkward mid season points. part 34 was an interesting shift in perspective, but here is where my doubt's about the season's villains started rising

but the oscar & scratch arcs.... guys i'm gonna be honest, i might be oscar's #1 hater

scratch and oscar in this season were functionally useless filler. it's not unusual for arthur and john get sidetracked during their missions, but it usually ends up leading them right where they need to be by the season finale. this felt like a parenthesis that killed any tension created by the butcher.

this season had, quite unnecessarily, 3 antagonists. now this wouldn't be a terrible idea, had they been established before. but no. for some reason it was chosen to leave the only villain we could genuinely be afraid of alone, in favour of introducing not one but two antagonists yet to be established. neither because of this have the adequate fear factor (the butcher is better about this) and both get the most abysmal ends i could've imagines. what do you mean scratch is just gone like that after causing some emotional conflict with his deal. what do you mean the butcher was KOed by the fucking priest with a bedpan? what? that's it? you expect me to be scared or even care about the butcher now?

speaking of the priest. i want to like oscar i really do but. he's a terribly written character. we get to know him while arthur is teaching john intimidation tactics so out of gate our initial impression of him is as someone meek. and then in part 36 after "sorting out" the butcher, oscar just dumps out his trauma point blank to someone he's spoken to a handful of times in the past 3? 4? days.

malevolent in general has a bit of an exposition problem, but it usually works out if it's john expositing because. that's literally all he can do. but when a character with more agency do it, it makes them flat. oscar didn't have to tell us all that, he didn't have a reason. arthur confessing to 7 murders isn't a prompt to make himself vulnerable like that. i did not start caring for him, just because he had a tragic backstory. that's... not how you get someone to care about a character. oscar could be defined as a static character, and while it's not too unusual for a static character to be the focal point of an arc, i don't think it works the way most authors think it does.

also the worms in the farm only happened because of him messing with the stove so like. that's not helping his case.

the completely unnecessary farm arc concluded, we return oscar to the hospital, with arthur caving very quickly to john's demands if he truly cared about oscar so much. and so, a single episode before the finale, we get properly acquainted our main ally for the showdown. a choice definitely, but i feel like this one worked out pretty well considering noel had time to simmer before we got know of his past + he had interesting conflict with john and arthur.

and then there's the big one, the thing that appalls me entirely. leaving larson and yellow, the main villains of the finale COMPLETELY alone until the very end. why? why would you choose to not use them earlier? we spent so much time away from larson, so we weren't really as scared of him as we were at the end of part 28 (i literally was listening to the last 15 minutes of this ep on my toes because i thought he might do something) and we had had no CHANCE to even fear yellow, since we knew nothing of his power?

and what, the butcher is on our side now because noel granted his release? just like that? i know he's a contract killer but arthur insulted him to his face, he can believe they understand each other but did he feel no anger?

the finale did well, considering the context it was given to work with, though i did not understand the point of the memory thing... that didn't go anywhere? because not arthur nor noel actually lost anything. we don't know what the box was for, we only know some guy wrote "the birth of my son" on slip of paper and put it in. arthur assumed it was a memory, when it just as well could've been a literal offering, arthur assumed it would involve losing said memory, and they assumed it was related. initially i thought it would only go through if the ritual took place, which, it didn't. but reading back here is no further clarification on it. hold your angst horses, blindfaith enjoyers

i feel like john physically manifesting, if now an established power of his, was very cheap. unless it was a one-off, or some sort of power up, it just literally took away the main premise of the show. an all-powerful god rendered powerless by being stuck in some guy's mind and being forced to confront the troubles of someone infinitesimal to him. if you let him astral project and save people, then what's the point?

but i do actually think it was a one-off, so we'll see how it goes

simply put, john saving arthur when he jumped in s3 had more impact than this because he did it with a single, human, hand. no magic.

it was pleasant to have kayne and his expected chaos back, jarring as always. john's deal was exactly what we all thought it was going to be, maybe more about himself than arthur, but i don't think anyone can fault him for that.

one things though, and this questions may just be me not remembering, is arthur supposed to know that yellow is a separate entity from john when they realise larson has him in his head? because i remember arthur just assuming that 'yellow' just had all of his memories returned in part 23, and therefore not knowing that he's a separate guy from john.

just in general, i feel like s4 had a LOT of good ideas that weren't given enough room to breathe and therefore weren't written very well that really weighed down my enjoyment of the season. that's not to say there weren't things i liked. the emotional moments hit just as hard, like reconciling with daniel, the comedy was on point (genuinely this season was so funny) and even the most out of pocket thing arthur has ever said, calling john a child, no matter how much discourse it caused, was actually sort of in character for him? i mean arthur is an asshole so like i get why his immediate reaction to his severely emotionally unintelligent friend being possessive is babying him. they're awful people. they deserve each other. it made somewhat sense in retrospect.

all this to say, while i didn't hate s4, i think it had a lot of writing issues, especially when comparing it to the other 3, and it could've been done WAYY better but hey we all have our moments.

i await anxiously intermezzo's public release and the rest of season 5 👀