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punkshort · 1 month

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i know who you are | 9. the end

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.

Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?

WC: 9.1K

Series Masterlist

A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.

Two Weeks Later

"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."

"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.

"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.

"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"

Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.

"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."

The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.

"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.

"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"

"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.

"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."

"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.

"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."

"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"

You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.

Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.

"Can I go with you?"

Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."

Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"

He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."

You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.

"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.

"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.

"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"

He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.

"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."

Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."

You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."

"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.

You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.

"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."

With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.

He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.

Maybe you planned it that way.

"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.

"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.

"Promise."

It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.

"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.

"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."

Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.

"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."

Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.

"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"

"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."

Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.

"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.

As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.

"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"

Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.

"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.

The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.

As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.

"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."

Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."

Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.

They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.

He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.

Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.

The perfect hiding spot.

He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.

Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.

He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.

When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.

The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.

"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."

It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.

They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.

"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.

"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.

"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."

Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.

"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.

To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.

"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.

"Are you hungry?"

"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.

"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.

"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."

"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"

"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."

You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?

Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.

You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.

Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.

When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.

You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"

"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."

You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.

"I missed you, too."

You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.

"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.

"I've got no fuckin' idea."

In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.

"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.

"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"

"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.

"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you said?"

He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.

"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."

You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."

His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.

"I love you, Joel."

His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.

"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."

Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.

For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.

His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.

When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.

When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.

It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.

"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.

When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.

But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."

You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.

He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.

"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.

"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?

"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.

Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.

It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.

When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.

You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.

It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.

"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.

"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."

You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.

"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.

You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.

"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.

"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."

Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.

"Leave it on."

Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.

It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.

"You okay?"

You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.

"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.

His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."

"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."

He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.

How's that feel?

Do that again.

Tell me you love me.

I love you.

Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.

His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.

"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.

"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"

"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.

Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.

You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.

After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.

The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.

You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.

"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."

He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.

"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."

He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"

You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.

"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."

"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

You chuckled when you thought about it.

"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."

"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"

"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.

"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.

"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"

"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Yes! How did-"

"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.

"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.

"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"

"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"

"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"

"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."

He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"

"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"

All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.

"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.

Three Months Later

"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."

You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.

"Maybe I'm a natural, then."

Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.

You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.

"Have any dreams lately?"

You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."

When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.

After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.

And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.

You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.

"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.

You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."

He grinned and holstered his revolver.

"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't start."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."

"I ain't flirtin' with you."

"Yes, you are!"

He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."

"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.

"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."

"Okay."

You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.

"You wanna give it a shot?"

"Pun intended?"

He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.

"Like this?"

"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."

Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.

"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.

"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."

You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.

"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.

"Here. Lemme help you."

He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.

"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."

"Her?" you teased.

He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."

"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"

"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."

"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."

"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.

Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.

"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."

You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.

For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.

"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.

"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.

You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.

When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.

"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."

His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."

You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"

He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."

You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #ikwya fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

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cameronspecial · 5 months

Text

Let Me Fix Your Problems, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Y/N needs to vent, but Rafe needs to solve her issues.

Masterlist

Girls know that when another girl comes to them with a problem, it is just to vent about the issue that they have. Boys. Well, boys like to go to each other for solutions and Rafe isn’t innocent of that mentality. Before Y/N, Rafe hadn’t been in a relationship, so he didn’t have a chance to learn that women just need an outlet to voice their frustration. And he is about to be taught that lesson. He waits for her at the coffee shop with a mug of coffee in his hand and a hot chocolate across from him for her. His fingers tap along the ceramic mug. He looks out the window to see if he can spot her arrival. This is the first time that they are going to be seeing each other in person after returning to campus from the holiday break and he anticipates seeing her again. He wants to see all the gifts she got this Christmas and she is excited to show him. He spots the pompom of her pastel green hat that he sent over to her for Christmas. A massive grin grows on his face and he knows the bell sounding announces her entrance. As she slides into the booth across from him, she leans over the table to kiss him on the lips. “Hey, Rafe. How are you?” she greets.

He can see something is wrong. There is a slight furrow of her brow and a slight dip of her lip that she is trying to hide. He plays along with her pleasantries for now, “I’m good now that I get to see you, Angel. How was your Christmas?” “It was good. I got to spend time with my family. I was also pleasantly surprised with how many gifts I woke up to on Christmas morning. Some handsome fella even gave me this pretty bracelet with his initials on it. I think I might keep it and him around,” she recounts, holding out her wrist for him to see. He takes her arm into his hand, “Wow. That handsome fella must really be special if you are wearing this even though you have only been dating him for around four months.” “Yeah, I guess you can say that I love him,” she teases and kisses him. “Thank you for the gifts, Rafe. I just wish you told me we were also sending each other stuff because I hate the thought of you not getting anything from me on Christmas.”

His warm hand cups her cheek and his thumb brushes reassuringly against her skin. “Don’t worry about it, Angel. You gave me my gift before we left for break. Plus, getting that FaceTime call from you on Christmas day was my gift,” he promises. She kisses his wrist and this thumb goes to trace the slope of her lips. He can’t be in the dark about her sadness anymore. “What’s wrong, my angel? Why do you seem so sad?” he questions. She shrugs, “Nothing, I’m fine.” “Please, don’t lie to me. I can see something is wrong,” he pleads to her. She sighs, “It’s stupid, but Stacey is having a back-to-school get-together this weekend and she didn’t invite me. I guess I feel a little left out.” “That’s not very nice of her. Have you tried telling her how you feel?” he suggests. She shakes her head, “No. Do you know how embarrassing it would be to run to her like a little schoolgirl and tell her she hurt my feelings?” Rafe understands what she is saying and slides in on her side of the booth. He rests her head on his chest, vowing to help her with her problem.

———

Rafe knocks on Stacey’s door and puts his hands behind his back. She opens the door with a slight frown at who is waiting for her. “Uh, Rafe. What are you doing here? Is everything okay with Y/N?” she worries, knowing that Rafe only cares about one person. Rafe’s head moves from side to side, “Actually, she isn’t okay. You didn’t invite her to your get-together this weekend.” Stacey nods and cracks her knuckles nervously. “I did not. Because, you see, Y/N and I aren’t really that close of friends and this party is for girls that I am really close to,” Stacey tries to explain. Her mouth shuts when she sees that is not the answer Rafe is looking for. He chuckles, “Obviously, she feels close enough to you that she feels left out by what you did.” He pauses to see if Stacey has anything to add to her defence. She doesn’t. “You know what I want you to do, correct?” Her head hinges up and down, “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry that I hurt Y/N’s feelings.” “Good, I’m glad we can come to a conclusion. I’ll see you later,” he grins and heads back home.

———

Y/N doesn’t bother to knock. She uses his passcode to storm into his room and finds him on his bed. He sits up right at the sight of her. “Is everything okay, Angel? You didn’t tell me you were coming over,” he frets, rushing to her side. Her arms cross over each other, “You forced Stacey to invite me to her party.” “I did. You said you felt left out that you weren’t invited,” he states. He places his hands above her elbows. She lets out a low laugh, “Why would you do that?”

“Because you had a problem and you needed help fixing it.”

“Rafe, most of the time, when I come to you with my problems, I don’t want you to fix them. I just want you to listen and agree that I am in the right.”

“Why can’t I fix your problems if I have the solution? Come on, let me fix your problems, Angel.”

“Sometimes girls just want someone to vent to. Plus, I don’t even like Stacey so the last thing I want to do is go to her party, but now, I have to go because you made a point of getting her to invite me,” she complains. He chuckles and pulls her into a hug, “Okay, I’ll take that venting thing into account for next time. Angel, if you didn’t want to go to the party, then why did it bother you so much?” “Because I wanted to be able to turn her down,” she mumbles, burying her face into his neck. He lets out an amused breath, “I see. Well, I’m sorry that I ruined your ability to reject her. If you want, I can call you with an emergency half an hour into the party so you can leave early.” Y/N pulls back to look him in the eyes. “That is the least you can do. You are getting me sushi too,” she orders. “Sounds fair. I’ll do whatever you want, Angel.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

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remuslupinslittleslut · 4 months

Text

No, like this

Anon asked: I need more of the teach me dynamic like that was so hot. The way Remus helped Sirius ate you out using his hair holy fuck that was hot. maybe it’s like Remus gets jealous cause it’s close to the full moon so he shows the boys how to properly fuck a girl and it’s super rough maybe and then James and Sirius are just there jerking off like super turned on by the scene cause wow Remus is really good at making reader be loud.

And YES! I love this dynamic and this ask was so very lovely and gave me so much inspiration THANK YOU BABE <333

Here's a very jelly remus, pre full moon, showing his friends how to fuck his girl hot damn

Masterlist. (Teach us part one. And part two. Though it can easily be read on it's own, just the same dynamics <3)

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Remus growled.

You were laid out on your back, James on top of you, hips moving against yours at a steady rhythm. It was good, really good. But the full moon was getting closer, and Remus was aggravated, jealous and very territorial of you.

James whined at the harsh words, and you kissed his nose telling him, “You’re doing well darling, keep going.”

He did, though not quite as confidently as before. His head came down to rest in the crook of your neck, and you felt his cheeks were heated from embarrassment. You and Remus had taught both James and Sirius a lot since your first night together, and they’d both made great progress, all the while Remus was perfectly okay with sharing you – as you also did share him with his friends.

James had just started to get it right with each thrust again – making you moan and whine, telling him what a good boy he was being – when Remus interrupted yet again.

“No, move,” he said, standing up and pushing James off of you, making all three of you gasp (Sirius wouldn’t miss this show for anything in the world), “let me show you how to fuck her properly.”

It was, to put it plainly, rude. You would have to talk to Remus about it later, that he can’t act that way with your littles, but he was so sexy, towering above you, hands tugging at his buckle, trying to free himself for you. You knew what was to come would be life changing-ly amazing, and you did not want to get in the way of Moony when he was tearing at the seams of Remus like this.

Remus was finally naked, standing next to the bed, where James still lay, “I said move.” James did, shying away, trudging toward Sirius’ bed.

“Arms above your head, darling,” he said, steadying his body above yours. You did as you were told, knowing not to argue at this moment. “See, you’ve gotta tell a slut what to do, she’s too dumb to think on her own.” This wasn’t really true – though you loved letting go of all your common sense to let Remus take full control, so you did.

He didn’t give any warning before he pushed himself into you, widening your tight little hole, taking your body from you. “Little sluts like this don’t need to be warmed up, she can take it, right love?” You nodded, knowing you hadn’t been given permission to speak.

His hips snapped against yours at a brutal pace, it almost hurt, you knew it would later, but the way the head of him pushed against your walls felt too good. While he was fucking you, he kept narrating the whole thing, “yeah, that’s right, touch your little cocks to my girl, hear that? My girl. You’ve gotta move faster, harder, like this.”

It was so hot, having your life fucked out of you by your boyfriend while your other two partners watched, touching themselves. You could finally show them the Remus you knew, the Remus who could make sure you didn’t walk straight for days – he’d been so nice and soft since you invited James and Sirius, but now he was back, with his back-arching, toe-curling, orgasm-giving sex.

You hadn’t been quiet for a while, and when your orgasm washed over you, the sounds coming from somewhere deep in your throat only got louder. “There you go, see this, this’s how you make a girl come.”

Pulling out of you, Remus kissed you once, deep and hard and dirty, before he flipped you over, pulling on your hips to make your ass stick out. Leaning down over you, he kissed down the back of your neck, biting and pulling at the skin, hard teeth scratching soft skin. “You ready, little one?” He asked, almost softly, and when you nodded your head he pulled back and pushed in, in one sweeping motion. The angle from this position was even better and you felt your eyes roll back as you dropped your head against the pillow, feeling another orgasm come creeping.

Holding himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other kept a tight hold on your hair. “Now this is how you fuck a girl real good, she won’t be able to think straight when I’m done with her, shame you’ll never be this good,” the cockiness could be heard in Remus’ voice as his hips kept pushing against yours, your ass shaking with every thrust. “Go on then, come, all over your hands from watching my girl take my cock, go ahead… You too, princess, go ahead, let go f’me…”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered some grunting from the other bed, though most of your senses were filled with Remus, the wet sound of him thrusting in and out of you, the smell of him on the pillow, of both of your juices mixing somewhere further down on the bed, the taste of him left on your tongue, the sight of a veiny arm holding him up, the feeling of him all over you, against your back, the hands in your hair, his cock inside you, pulsating and ejaculating, filling you up with white, hot spurts of cum, the feeling of it running out of you, the wet patch on the bed between your legs.

And then… nothing.

When you woke up, it was to a hot, wet rag on your face. “Hi, love,” Remus said, kissing your forehead, hand holding your cheek still. “Welcome back, you went out for a bit, but don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you now, okay baby?”

Smiling, you reached your hands up – not a small feat, considering your arms felt like boiled spaghetti – and took a hold of his face to pull him back down to you, pressing your lips against his.

“And now this is how you perform proper aftercare, don’t ever skip that,” he said, a pointed look directed at his friends, who he was about to treat with some of the same love that you’d received.

Tagged: @remussbitch

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psychelis-new · 4 months

Text

pick a pile: "I love you because..."

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a love confession for you. it could be a friend, a colleague, someone you help/ed, a family member, your guides or ancestors, your higher self or your present/future partner/spouse. meditate to put yourself in a receiving mode and go check your one, dear soul. enjoy your Valentine's day: whether you feel lonely or not, whether you are in a relationship or not, know that you are deeply loved.

if you rather get a message from your present/future partner/spouse, check my instagram @/psychelis.new

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4

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pile 1

I love you of a quiet pure respectful love, because you're strong and brave and you taught me that struggles can be overcome and new goals can always be reached. You taught me a lot also about love and friendship: maybe you don't know, but I have been going through a very tough situation and finding you/having you near, listening to you, helped me so much. You were (and are) like a dream come true to me. You made me stronger, inspired me and helped me move on with a lot of confidence and hopefulness more, and I'll always be thankful to you for this. I am not sure you know about this, about my feelings, I always look at you from a distance and freeze in awe in front of your kindness and beautiful smile. I would like to approach you and thank you personally but I am not sure you would accept it from me. I am still afraid to be abandoned or to disappoint you but I am sure one day I will be able to change this also thanks to you. One day I will be bold enough and thank you properly. I am working to get ready for that day and have no more fear.

[more symbols/signs: fairytales, children, The Little Prince (the dialogue with the fox in particular), fox, star, comets; could be friend, sb in your same school/job place crushing on you, ex, -online- admirer, childhood friend/crush; I'm getting lot of school-related/young energy, could even be a student if you're a teacher or sth; it seems someone who isn't used to kindness and gentleness/support and bc of this you made them addicted to this side of yours]

song: fetish | selena gomez, gucci mane

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

I love you because you guide me and give me peace. Your voice is like a tender sound calming my nerves, your words are warm and embracing me anytime I need love. You came up unexpectedly and brought the wind of change with you, a warm tender soft one that caresses me and plays with my hair making me smile of a peaceful smile. Something I could hardly experience before. I love you because you help me feel better and change/grow for the better. You've helped me cleansing from my toxic past and you made me see things from a different perspective. Like in a snap of fingers, everything went from chaos to calm, in my mind and in my heart. You always know what to say to bring me back on my feet, to balance me, and you guide me in every move I take. I am thankful for having you by my side, my true anchor and gentle loving sister soul. Never cease to speak to me, I love listening to your ideas and words, you always sing the most beautiful song in my ears, just for me to listen to.

[more symbols/signs: water, emotions, rain/rainy day, wind, sound, dreamcatcher, weather vane, bells, air signs; possible strong mental/5d connection; could be a soulmate (romantic or platonic), also a colleague or family member/ancestor or your partner's higher self]

song: every breath you take | denmark + winter

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

I love you because amidst all of the chaos, there you were and still are. I love you cause you always wear a smile and try to keep your joy with you, and share it around. I love you cause of your sweet tender habit to dance and turn around everytime you're happy. I love you for all the beauty you bring with you, even if you cannot see it. I love your regal side and your cute side. I love all the different people you are, especially your curios self, never ceasing to learn more of what's around you (please keep yourself safe). I love how you can lose yourself daydreaming about love and what's next for you, but also how you are so easy to distract... Maybe you should focus more, yes, but who cares? I like to distract you too cause when you notice you always get so pouty and offended with me and that's so very cute. Please try to let go of the past, trust yourself. I know you hurt still, but better things will come and you know it too. Don't let the anxiety/worries take over you, stay confident and trust that all will be great. I will also help you make it so.

[more signs/symbols: crowds, -long time- friend/s, studying together, raincoat, jeans, flirting; feels a classmate or friend -maybe a group of friends-, possibly someone crushing on you; young energy but especially from you here so the person/people could be "older" for some of you]

song: golden hour | jvke

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 4

I love you because that's what I was born for. I love you cause that's my duty, to care for you and protect you. But I also love you because you resemble me: you're determined, confident and you work for your dreams. You don't let anything or anyone bring you down and even if you don't feel this way now, I know you have it inside of you. You just need to believe again in all that you really are, you just need to remember who you really are. Let me in, let me help you remember it all. Let me help you give you your power back. We can have it all again, together. Don't let the demons you have learned to live with, govern you: you're the one in charge of putting them back to their place. You're the one able to give yourself all that you want, love included. Take care of you, give yourself breaks and get ready: a lot is in store for us. I'm sorry you have/had to wait so much. Please forgive me.

[more symbols/signs: vinyl, music, nostalgia, dancing, gala, Europe, dresses, castle, deep heart connection; possible past life connection (around 1700-1800 centuries; kingdoms); power couple; possible ex/situationship that now is on hold or future partner/spouse, guides/ancestors/departed pet or higher self; in all honesty the first message I got is the last line I wrote. Much more than the reasons they love you for, they wanted you to know how much they long for you now]

song: in the name of love | bebe rexha, martin garrix

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #intuitive readings #clairs readings #psychic readings #divination #love #love message #valentines day #tarot readings #tarotblr #tarotcommunity

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erwinsvow · 3 months

Text

They call you the clueless pogue. The pretty one.

You don’t care much either way—that comes from years of being Kiara’s best friend, she’s taught you well on how to ignore what other people think and say about you. Maybe you would care more, you think one day, watching JJ and Pope drive each other crazy while trying to fix something that’s inexplicably gone wrong with the Twinkie. John B is swinging in the hammock, eyes closed, empty beer in his hand that is soon replaced with a fresh one by Kie. She drops the old can into a bin that has the recycling symbol drawn on with a sharpie, her own creation. She walks towards you with a can of fruity seltzer since it’s well known with your new friends that you refuse to drink beer—and it all feels very domestic.

You might care about what other people say if you didn’t love your friends so much.

You are a little clueless though—at least the boys think so. They wouldn’t dare to say anything when your protective best friend was around, but when it’s just you and one of them, or all of them, it comes out a little more.

You wear the kind of clothes that they wouldn’t let a sister of theirs be caught dead in. They never used to care about stuff like that, not until you started hanging around more often. It was the result of absent parents that were only on the island a few months out of the year. The rest of the time you had free reign, and an unlimited credit card that often funded their adventures—gas for the Twinkie, beer for the night, a new outfit to wear to the party.

JJ gets into a fist-fight with a guy who keeps offering you a drink from the keg, not listening no matter how many times you refuse and grabbing the short hem of your yellow dress to yank you back. JJ doesn’t mean to knock him out—it’s just like instinct, he explains later that night to John B and Pope while you’re sound asleep on the pull-out with Kiara—the way he feels protective over you.

“Are you okay?” Kie asks, and you smooth out your dress from where that guy had grabbed it.

“Only because JJ saved me,” you say, looking at him with big doe eyes and fluttering eyelashes. He swallows uncomfortably.

“No biggie, princess, I mean you know me, I’m a big damsel-in-stress kinda guy-” Kiara rolls her eyes and brings you inside, and he’s left standing there with pink-tinged ears.

He doesn’t tell them about how you were looking around for someone, anyone to help, how scared you look when he touched you, how your face visibly eased when you locked eyes with JJ, how you held a bag of frozen peas to his black eye and kissed his cheek before going back to find everyone earlier. He decides to keep that for himself.

You don’t keep an eye out for your surroundings when you tag along on their adventures either. That’s pretty much John B’s responsibility now, walking towards the back with you. You often start looking around, head in the clouds, staring at the trees and sky and walking right into a pile of mud or a puddle.

“Wow, the air is so clean out here,” you comment while taking a deep breath. It’s said quiet enough that only he can hear you.

“Yeah, pretty girl, that’s because of all the trees.” You laugh and shove his arm, because duh, but you can’t respond because the others are yelling for you two to catch up.

He doesn’t let you lead—you’ve cried over too many ruined shoes for him to risk it anymore—instead he holds onto your hand firmly, gripping tight when he needs you to slow down and pulling gently when it’s okay to proceed. It’s his job to make sure all the bugs are out of the way, that you’re not walking into a spiderweb or running after a butterfly or pretty bird. The others tease you two and laugh, but you still thank him with a tight hug, the thin material of your sports bra not really hiding much, murmuring something about no signs of mud on your new sneakers.

“Yeah, anytime,” he breathes after you’ve already walked away. You turn back to smile at him, adjusting your ridden-up tennis skirt you’d sported today. “Wouldn’t wanna dirty those shoes.”

You make Pope feel like the smartest guy in the world sometimes, without even trying. It’s not like you’re stupid, because he knows you’re not, but when you bite your cheek and tap his shoulder to ask him another question about whatever you were working on, your words start going to his head.

“So if I wanna save this and put them all together, I just use this program? And I just use the mouse?” you say thoughtfully, repeating his instructions back to him.

“Yes, sweetheart,” and he tries his best to make sure he sounds patient—he’s learned from experience you don’t react well if you even suspect he’s getting frustrated.

Pope watches you play with the thin straps of your shirt before the string idly falls off your shoulder, exposing a swath of soft, sweet-smelling skin to him. Staring at your bare shoulder, he thinks he could never get frustrated at you even if he tried his hardest. When you finish making your little vision-board on photoshop, you turn to show him proudly, and he is proud, with how well you followed his instructions and weren’t too shy to keep asking for his help. Later that night at the Chateau, you lean against his shoulder with his arm swung around you on the couch and explain what each of the images mean until you fall asleep.

They’re all playing a game of chicken—wondering which one will be the first to cross that line and suggest something more than just friendship to you. Through empty cases of beer and boys-only fishing trips they’ve briefly discussed to each other that they’re interested, but of respect—to each other, not really to you—they haven’t made the first move just yet. No matter how difficult you make it.

At the beach you help the boys wax their surfboards, taking turns with each one, floating around a little tipsy already from your fruity drink. They’re all talking, but you don’t really pay attention, eyes staring at something in the distance.

JJ covers his mouth, imitating a walkie noise.

“Hello, uh, earth to princess, over.”

You turn back to him and his board, dropping the chunk of wax and leaning in. He blanks for a second—your pretty face getting closer, an eyeful of your tits in the tiny bikini you’re wearing today making his head spin. And you’re infront of everyone, which is definitely not how he’d thought he would win this little competition.

“Do you see that pretty girl over there? Three o’clock?”

“I see a pretty girl right in front of me,” he says, and you laugh, pushing his shoulder. He doesn’t realize that you think he’s just joking.

“Jayj, seriously. See her?” He nods, but still doesn’t turn to look. “She’s been staring at you for, like, ten minutes. You should go over there!”

You’re smiling big, like the idea of another girl talking to him sounds fun. He pulls back from you, confused.

“I need another beer.” He stalks off, walking to the boys while you turn to Kiara.

“What did I do wrong? I’m trying to get him laid-” Kiara rolls her eyes. You turn and see the boys in deep conversation, occasionally glancing back at you and Kie.

“She just told me to go flirt with some girl, like, right in front of her. I mean is this some kind of test?” He takes a long chug of the beer, sounding about as stressed as Pope and John B have ever seen. “Do I fail if I hook up with some rando? Or do I fail if I don’t hook up? It’s Schindler’s cat, man-”

“That’s not-” Pope starts, before being cut off.

“Sorry, sorry. Schrodinger’s kids.”

“No, JJ-”

“What the hell does she mean? So she wants us to hook up with other people?” John B cuts in, looking back at you, but something else on the beach seems to have caught your attention.

“Woah, I’m not doing that, but you two are more than welcome-”

“Yeah, nice try, Pope. We get with some girl so you can tell her you stayed loyal and win her over? I don’t think so, genius-”

“Well, you’re the one she’s trying to set up so I think I’m pretty safe right now-”

“It’s not a reality show Pope, you can’t eliminate me.”

“Guys,” John B speaks up.

“If this was a show, I’d clearly be the fan favorite and the winner-”

“Uh, says who? I would so win, let’s do a poll right now and survey this beach-”

“Guys.” Louder this time, they listen to John. He doesn’t say anything, just stares into the distance and soon they join him, to see what he’s looking at.

“Y’gotta be fucking kidding me,” JJ says, watching you run into Rafe’s arms, swinging around before giving him a kiss. Rafe pulls away and looks straight at the three of them, while giving them a wave.

#i am a proud supporter of reader x all three pogue boys <3 #obx #john b routledge #jj maybank #pope heyward #rafe cameron

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verstappen-cult · 3 months

Note

Hi Gwen! Can I ask for 05 from the 02 list with Max? But Max was the one who got nightmares. Thank you, have a good day! 🌷

PROMPT DRABBLES ★ MV1

FROM THIS LIST ━━━━ sender comforts receiver in the aftermath of a nightmare .

max leans against the door frame. he looks tired, you can clearly see the bags under his eyes.

max smiles but ends up looking like he's in pain.

you try to take him out of his misery.

"why don't you go lie down while i make dinner?" max drops his head on your shoulder as his right hand finds your waist.

"i've missed you." he whispers, nuzzling your neck with his nose.

it makes you smile because you've missed him, too. you've barely seen each other in the past couple of days━you spent almost the entire winter break together but the season is starting and you have exams coming up, things have been a little difficult, so, you really haven't spent that much time together.

you kiss his forehead, "i'll call you, go."

you know max hasn't been sleeping well. it's always hard with the jetlag, and this time of the year, when everyone's attention and worry is with the team and the new car, more than anything.

you choose to make something easy, you want for max to eat and rest as much as he can. you're actually halfway into finishing dinner when you hear max screaming. you don't think any of it at first but then he's screaming again, this time like he's in pain.

when you enter the room, heart beating so fast you think you're one second away from throwing up, max's still in bed, eyes closed.

"hey, max." you whisper caressing his arm, trying to wake him up without scaring him. "baby, wake up." this time you speak a little louder, that's when he wakes up. there are tears streaming down his face and sweat on his forehead.

sitting next to him, you keep one hand on his arm as you try to wipe the tears away with the other one. "breathe with me," you put into practice the breathing exercise your therapist taught you a couple of years ago. it's difficult at firts, with max still a little frightened from the nightmare but he tries his best to follow your instructions.

max sighs, hiding behind his hands. "it was just..."

"it's okay, you don't have to talk about it, okay?" you know he's feeling vulnerable and that his head is filled with awful thoughts. his dad's voice echoing in his head, saying how he shouldn't cry for something this stupid.

max doesn't look at you and just keeps hiding for a while longer until you have to peel his hands out of his face.

"what about you lie down and i keep you company while you sleep, uh?" his eyes are bloodshot red, remains of the nightmare still very present.

you climb on the bed and he immediately wraps his arms around your waist. you allow him to rest his head on your chest right above your heart, knowing that your heartbeat and the fingers tangled in his hair will lull him back to sleep.

he still carries that little, traumatized child inside of him everywhere he goes.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #f1 blurb #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 imagine

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tteokdoroki · 4 months

Note

Hi aali!, Happy Valentine's Day~ I saw your bumble date, swipe right event and would like to participate :D I put forward gojo satoru as my fav, red bottomed heels as my ideal valentine's gift and for my date to be sweet. Please and thank you in advance /^w^/

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. swipe sweet: red bottom heels.

about. it’s a match! whilst dolling yourself up to spend valentines day with your husband — satoru gojo reminds you of how much he loves you with a very expensive and reminiscent gift ( 1K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, reader and gojo are married + have kids, reader is wearing a dress, afab!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

“are the kids in bed?” you ask your husband satoru as you scrutinise the line of red on your lips in the mirror. his large palms smooth over the curves of your frame, hugged by your pretty and powder blue dress, before stopping just above your navel.

the gesture is sweet, with no ulterior motives, you’ve learned over the years that your husband values proximity and closeness. he likes to hold you close like you might disappear and touch you as though to make sure that you’re real. tonight, he gets lost in the way you feel underneath his explorative fingertips, entranced by how beautiful you look tonight (or any other night).

cooing, you capture his attention — brilliant colbalt eyes finding yours in the mirror. “satoru,”

“you look good in this dress, baby. is it new?” he quips, head of silvering hair coming to rest at the junction between your neck and shoulder as you finish perfecting your lip. “sorry, yes honey. the rugrats are sleepin’.”

you squirm happily in your man’s hold, relishing the way that he loves up on you with kisses to your neck and his warm hands rubbing up had dabi’s your sides. “what about the sitters? did you pay them?”

“you mean fushiguro? we practically raised him, a bit of free labour never hurt anybody —“ when you cough unhappily, glaring at your long-time lover and father of your children in the mirror, satoru pouts into the kisses he’s fitted along your bare shoulder. “— fine, i’ll leave him a tip.”

the man is rewarded with one of your dazzling smiles, the type that has his heart bursting through his chest and his brain a mess. no matter how many dates you go on, how many times you celebrate valentine’s day together…satoru gojo finds himself falling in love with you all over again. each and every time.

“satoru baby, did you—?”

“yes, sweetie, i called the uber. it’ll be here in five. yes, i called the restaurant and had them push back by thirty and yes, you look beautiful. you always do. you’re just as beautiful as the day i met you,” years of marriage has taught satoru gojo to be prepared for anything. your fluttering mind, your worry for your children, the fact that you always take a little too long to get ready for the simplest of outings. these little habits and ticks of yours are things that he cherishes, things he wouldn’t change for the world. satoru has grown a lot since he first met you, and has grown in all the right ways to make sure that you’re loved.

spinning you in his bulking arms, satoru backs you up against your bathroom sink — caging you against it with his arms either side of your hips while he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “now, i know we like to be fashionably late to things, being the hottest couple in the world and all, but i really do think we should get going,” he scolds you playfully, but doesn’t make an effort to draw away from you. “i can’t push this table back anymore,”

you smile, blowing a kiss up at him so that you don’t smudge your lipstick. “don’t let megumi hear you say that, you know that he thinks we’re cringe.”

“he can think what he wants, nothing will stop me from showing off the most beautiful woman in the world,” when the white haired man finally steps back, your fingers remain linked — wedding bands clinking against one another. “let me get your shoes, gorgeous, the car’ll be here soon.”

as your husband retreats ( leaving you a love stricken mess in the bathroom ), you resort to packing a clutch with the essentials for tonight — debating on which lip gloss to bring with you until he comes back.

“remember these?” satoru questions you softly once he re-enters the bathroom — sinking to his knees despite the tight fitting black tux that he wears. your eyes drift over his handsomely aged face, firm and muscled form, down to the pair of heels he holds in his grasp. their white leather and red bottom sole are all too familiar to you. a pair of christian louboutin heels fresh from the box.

setting the pair of shoes down, satoru gently takes one of your ankles in his hold and positions it perfectly to slip your foot into the heel. “you wore them to our wedding, way back when. i remember that you spent hours deliberating between the kate model and the hot chick model. even still, i always loved how they looked on you,” he reminisces, lips ghosting over your thigh and thumbs smoothing up your calves once your foot is secured in its shoe. “how they make your legs look.”

he wiggles his eyebrows up at you then, making you snort under the dim lighting in your bathroom like two teenagers struggling to get out of their clothes after a night out. “satoru!” you squeal, pushing at his shoulder with your bare foot. “focus, we’ve got to leave soon,” your husband nods, working your other heel on while you reminisce. “i thought i lost the original pair in one of the boxes when we moved to the bigger house for the baby.”

blue eyes shoot up to meet yours, holding so much love and adoration for you. “not too tight, right?” gojo whispers, rubbing at the back of your foot to make sure the leather material isn’t hurting you. you shake your head, earning yourself a kiss to the knee. “you did. lose them. i remember how upset you were, so i figured i’d get you a replacement pair. they might be a little different but—“

“but they’re perfect, thank you baby,” even after all this time, satoru remains the most thoughtful partner you’ve ever had. you swear to yourself that you’ll cherish him always, look after him always. even after life and even in death. “i love them.”

“i love you.” gojo says tenderly, taking a stand and offering you his hand all in one swift movement. “now cinderella, i do believe our carriage awaits. our Uber driver has just set a timer and i’ll be damned if he drives away with my damn money.”

with that, you let your husband whisk you away for a romantic dinner — expensive and cherished red bottom heels clicking against the pavement while the wind carries your joint laughter as you run like fools for your uber (much to megumi’s dismay).

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lovexdeepspace · 3 months

Note

All the Love and Deepspace boys react when you make a homemade scarf for them?

Thank you very much and hope all is well.

“made with love.”

summary; a gift is best when it comes from the heart.

warnings; none! enjoy the sweetness <3

note; aaaaa some fluff to break the angst cycle !! ty for the sweet request !!

( to be formatted in the future )

a box awaits each of the boys, wrapped neatly with a note attatched.

rafayel…

… immediately calls you, panicking that some crazed fangirl or someone he wronged in the past has found his address.

“what if it’s a bomb?” he shouts into the phone, peering through the crack in his front door at the box. “or worse! what if it’s some woman’s used underwear?!”

you fail to contain your laughter on the other end of the call, covering your mouth as you double over.

“how can you laugh in such dire times?” rafayel wails, clutching the phone to his ear. “this isn’t funny!”

after a moment you were finally able to compose yourself and say, “the box is from me, dumbass. i dropped it off on my way to work this morning. i tried to give it to you personally but someone wouldn’t answer the door.”

cue a sheepish chuckle from rafayel as he opens his front door and stoops down to open the gift then and there. he smiles to himself as he finds a blue hand knit scarf sitting in the box, his fingers running gently along the material.

“it’s so soft,” he says softly and you laugh again, amused by his genuine reaction. “i’m putting it on and never taking it off.”

“so dramatic,” you mumble, cradling the phone between your shoulder and ear as you pick up your book once more. the line went silent and you quirk a brow. “rafayel?”

your phone buzzes and you pull it away from your shoulder to find three image attachments sent your way with more piling in every second. each photo is one of rafayel in a different, exaggerated pose with the scarf wrapped around his neck. you laugh at his theatrics and save a couple to your camera roll before shooting him a quick text.

you look like a dork.

he answers immediately, as to be expected from your clingy artist:

i think i look amazing

xavier…

… opens the box as soon as he pulls it in his apartment without a single concern. if anyone could handle some danger, it’s him, so why worry?

the yellow scarf is soft in his lap as he reads the card you wrote for him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he sets the little card aside and wraps the scarf loosely around his shoulders before pushing himself off his couch, sending you a text that he’s coming over.

it doesn’t take long for him to arrive at your front door or for him to fish out the spare key you had given him, unlocking the door and pushing his way in. xavier shuffles into your apartment, leaving his shoes by the door as he calls out your name. he moves from the main room to your bedroom, finding you sprawled out on your bed. without a second thought he crawls into bed beside you, startling you awake.

“huh — wha? xavier?” you lay back down, groaning. “scared the shit outta me.”

xavier hums and pulls you into his embrace, your face burying in his chest. “i got your gift and needed to come say thank you.”

“you couldn’t have just texted me?” you ask sleepily, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “you’re welcome, by the way. tara taught me how to knit and she gave me some extra yarn. i thought the color would suit you.”

you pull back a little and eye the scarf around his neck before adding, “it does suit you.”

xavier nods in agreement, kissing your forehead. “you have a good eye.”

zayne…

… completely forgets about the gift. one day he comes into the office to find a box on his desk and makes a mental note to open it after his first patient.

then one patient becomes two back to back emergency surgeries and by the time that was all complete it was well into the night. finally having a second to himself, zayne plops down on his couch and leans his head back. his eyes finally close only to snap open again at a knock on his door.

“zayne, i brought you some dinner,” you say as you open the door to his office. he lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes once more as you shut the door behind you, setting the lunchbox on his desk. “oh! you still haven’t opened it?”

“opened what?” zayne asks, turning his head slightly to look at you. you pick up the gift on his desk and hold it out to him. “oh, that. i assume it’s from you, then?”

you nod excitedly and place the box on his lap. “go on, open it!”

“i’m sorry, today’s been a hectic day,” zayne apologizes as he carefully opens the box. the stress melts away as he looks into the box at a black hand-knit scarf with a small smile. “you made this?”

you take a seat next to him, reaching over and grabbing the scarf out of the box as he reads the card. “i did! and since you’re mr. jack frost over here, i think a scarf is the perfect accessory! do you like it?”

you wrap it haphazardly around his shoulders and zayne sets the card down on the coffee table before fixing it around his neck.

“out of all the gifts you’ve given me over the years, i think this one might just be my favorite,” he replies, placing a hand on your knee as he leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “thank you, sunshine.”

#love and deepspace #rafayel #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #lads xavier #lads zayne #xavier #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #zayne #oracleofstars

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janeyseymour · 6 months

Text

Bridge Over Troubled Water

Request by: @iloveyall-18

Summary: You're Melissa's aide, and she's working you to the point where you think you might have to quit.

WC: ~7.3k

Ashley got fired. Or... Melissa threatened that if she ever came back, she would wish she hadn’t. Either way, the aide wasn’t coming back, and the redhead was back to teaching two separate grades on her own... not that she wasn’t doing that before, but now it's official. She’s back to being on her own.

“I don’t need another aide!” the teacher huffs at the principal. “I do just fine on my own, and I swear to you... if that little-” she cuts herself off before threatening Ava, “If Ashley comes back to me, I will retire early and leave you to handle two separate grades in one classroom.”

“You won’t!” Ava challenges.

“You wanna put money on it?” Melissa spits right back. She storms out of the room, not bending her knees and clearly very angry. Anybody could see that. What they don’t see is the absolute mess that her former aide had left for her.

The room was currently in shambles. The progress monitoring papers weren’t organized in the slightest, the decorations were randomly hung with no sense of order or reason at all, half the desks were out of sorts, and the kids were still singing that stupid body song that Ashley had taught them while pounding on their desks. She still had to finish doing reading benchmarks with her third grade- or maybe it was second grade? Melissa has no idea at this point- all she knows is she’s about two seconds from taking a bat to her filing cabinet to get out her rage.

“Alright!” she shouts into the room, her voice booming. Almost instantly, the kids stop. She takes a deep breath. “Okay, my little eagles. We’re taking quiet time a little early today so... So Ms. Schemmenti can get this place in order.”

A few of her kids help her organize the desks while Melissa does her best to organize the progress monitoring papers, as well as the other papers she kept on file for each kid. It doesn’t go well- she keeps confusing which students are in second grade and which students are in third grade. It doesn’t help that she has a few sets of siblings, and she had most of her third graders last year as second graders. She eventually just gives up.

“Line up,” the woman sighs in defeat. “We’re going outside.”

“Extra recess?” Maddie, one of the second graders, asks hopefully.

“Yeah, hon,” the redhead smiles down at him gently. “Ms. Schemmenti needs some fresh air, and hopefully a walk around the block if Ms. Teagues is outside too.”

“Do you think you need a hug?” the little girl asks. “Sometimes when I’m frustrated and need fresh air, I need a hug too.”

The teacher’s heart nearly melts. “Yeah, kiddo,” she says softly. “I think Ms. Schemmenti could use a Maddie hug.”

The second grader embraces her teacher for a few seconds before pulling away. “Feel a little better?” she asks hopefully.

“I do, sweetheart,” Melissa promises. “Thank you.”

As the combined second and third grade class makes their way down the hall, they stop at Janine’s room. “We’re goin’ outside. You comin’?”

“O-oh, yeah,” Janine looks shocked. “Yeah, we’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Melissa smirks to herself. “Alright, kid. Don’t be too long now.” It was looking like she was going to get her walk around the block that she had hoped for... and maybe a water ice or a hoagie from Wawa to cheer her up even more.

That was a few days ago. Melissa was floundering with the two grades again. She hates to admit it, but Ashley had some sort of way with the kids that could keep them occupied while she handled the bulk of it. And even if she wasn’t usually helpful, having some sort of distraction so she could focus was useful.

“Okay,” she storms into Ava’s office. “So many I could use an aide, but I swear to God, it better not be-”

“Melissa,” Ava cuts her off in an oddly serious tone. “I’m in an interview.” Only then does the redhead stop her tangent. She looks at the chair across from Ava, and there you are. You’re terrified of this woman to be quite frank- just storming into the room and knowing exactly what she wants. And she’s... wow. She’s really pretty. And the way that her- get your head out of the gutter.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Melissa fumbles her words. She’s too busy looking at you too, not that she would admit that to anyone. “We’ll talk late-”

“Well, Ms. Schemmenti,” the principal laughs. “Because I am such a great owner of this school, I decided to take initiative and find you a replacement aide after you so... rudely... let Ashley go. This is Y/N. She’ll be your new aide.”

You bite your lip. You have no idea how you’re going to work with her when you already have the hots for her. “Hi,” you say shyly and stick your hand out.

She shakes it. “Schemmenti. Melissa. Let’s get goin. I gotta pick the kids up, and then I need to finish their reading checks, so you can just hang back for the afternoon and observe and get to know the little monsters.”

You hesitate to move, and she glares at you. “C’mon, what's the matter with you? You need a special invitation?” She shakes her head, clearly not approving you, and stalks down the halls. You sigh, grab your bag, thank Ava quietly, and head towards your assigned teacher. You easily fall into step with her.

She collects the kids from music room and directs the line leader to take them all the way down to the classroom. Once the kids are settled in their seats, Melissa allows them to grab their snacks from their bags before she turns on a read aloud from Storyline Online- one of your favorite websites to use with the kids. She notices that you’re still standing awkwardly just inside of the door.

“C’mere,” she rolls her eyes. You quickly go to her desk. “Yes, Ms. Schemmenti?”

“First off,” she huffs. “It’s Melissa. Ain’t no need to be formal with me, you got that?” you nod. “Second, that back table is your new desk, but you do anything too stupid to it, I will take it back, and you’ll have to stand all day. Y’understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say rigidly.

“Still too formal,” the redhead tells you. “C’mon. Just say my name.”

“O-okay, Melissa,” you whisper. She smiles at you, just barely. But you know you want to see that smile again. You see the way her eyes sparkle just a little differently when you’ve done something that isn’t pissing her off.

“There y’go, hon,” she smirks. “Now... for today, like I told you, I’m just monitoring their reading and checking progress, and I’ll probably be doing that for the next few days since my last aide spilled all of her gatorade over the first few kids’ work I already did. Use that time to just settle in- maybe get to know the kids a little bit.”

You nod and head back to where she told you your station was. You immediately see a bunch of thick water rings on the wood, presumably from the incompetent aide before you. You see the way that some parts of the desk are still sticky with... is that gum? And there’s paint all over the desk. You walk back over to her desk, and she finally looks like she's at some sort of peace. You hate to interrupt it.

“Do you have cleaner? That desk is a mess,” you request softly.

“Bottom cabinet by the sink,” she tells you. “Paper towels are down there too.”

“Thank you,” you smile at her as you walk away. She almost instantly falls in love with your smile. She always wants to see it.

You clean the desk and have your things relatively set up when the story is over, and she turns the lights back on.

“Alright, my little monsters,” she smiles as she stands and makes her way around her desk. “As some of you know, Miss Ashley is gone, and Principal Coleman was able to find us a replacement, so this is Ms. Y/N. Don’t rip her apart, you hear?”

“Yes, Ms. Schemmenti,” They say in unison. She has a smirk on her face though.

“Ms. Schemmenti has to do some more independent reading with youse, so if I’m not working with you, your choices are to-” she opens her marker and starts writing on the board. “Read independently, work on any papers in your unfinished work folder, or do math fluency. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Ms. Schemmenti.”

“Since this is all independent work, should I be able to hear your squeaky little voices?” Melissa asks them, a smile on her face.

“No, Ms. Schemmenti.”

“Alright, kiddos. Start working. I’m gonna need Maddie first.”

As the kids start to get out their materials, and Melissa takes to work with a student at the table connected to her desk, you stand. You might as well make yourself useful and make sure the students are doing what they’re supposed to be doing. You start circulating the room quietly, making sure to redirect a few students who aren’t doing what they should be.

You even sit down with a student who seems to be having trouble with their reading and start to help them decode words that aren’t sight words. You help them sound the word out and use their context clues to figure out the meaning of the word.

Your assigned teacher starts calling other students, and you can’t help that she’s haphazardly throwing the progress monitoring sheets onto her desk. You look around the room. Every student is doing what they’re supposed to be doing. You walk over.

“Can I help you organize those?” you ask shyly. “I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but I would love to help in any way I can.”

She glances up at you, and there are those sparkling green eyes again. “You know what?” she mutters to herself. She pulls two separate class lists out along with some folders. “Knock yourself out kid.”

You smile as you take the materials and bring them back to your table. You’re able to sort through the papers and get them in order in no time.

“Do you have a filing cabinet, or maybe bins for this to go in?” you ask as you bring the stacks back over. “Any other papers for me to file?”

She just points over at the bigger piles on her desk. You grab them and think about how you want to organize all of this for her. She has different colored folders, manilla folders, and a filing cabinet.

You assign each color folder a subject and put one of each color folder in a manilla folder. The manilla folder has the student’s name on it, and then that goes into the filing cabinet. This way, if Melissa needs to pull information for a certain student, it’s all in one place. If she needs to pull from a certain subject, she’ll know what color folder to pull for each student. You’ve used this system before. You know it’ll work just fine for the redhead so long as you leave her with a key for the colored folders.

While you do this, you still manage to make sure the students are staying on task and are remaining relatively quiet. You go between organizing her papers and tending to the students seamlessly. Melissa can’t help but look at you in wonder. Maybe she got lucky having you join her class.

After a bit of time, Melissa pulls the class back together to do a whole group math lesson, a new concept for the second graders and review for the third graders, and while she’s teaching you continue to silently organize. When the time comes for the students to practice, you circulate the room in order to make sure students are grasping the concept- they should. The redhead taught it very thoroughly and very explicitly.

After math, the students head out for lunch. You settle in at your desk, ready to nibble on the granola bar you brought for the first day- eating in new places always made you relatively nervous. You promise yourself tomorrow you’ll bring a real lunch.

“Hey, Y/N,” Melissa comes back into the room after dropping the kids off at lunch. “You got a lunch?” You raise your granola bar in the air as you chew, a hand over your mouth. “We got a staff room if you’d rather eat there. I’ll be there for the lunch period, and then I’ll be back to grade those worksheets.”

You just nod quietly and settle into your seat. She lingers at the door for a few seconds before shrugging. “Suit yourself.”

You finish your lunch relatively quickly. During the lunch period, you manage to write your key for your filing system, finish filing their papers, and grade the third graders’ papers. You set them neatly on her desk with a sticky note that says, Hope you don’t mind.

“I have no clue who she is or where she came from,” Melissa sighs into her lasagna. “But she’s like a walking angel on this Earth.”

“Oh?” Barb pops an eyebrow.

“In the hour she’s been in my room, she’s cleaned the mess that Ashley left, came up with a filing system for me and started putting it together, made sure the kids were on task while I progress-monitored for reading, and helped Shyane with her decoding. This woman isn’t real, I swear.”

“That’s great to hear, Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher smiles. “You deserve the help after what... she did to your room. And what’s her name?”

“Y/N,” the redhead says.

“You actually know her name?”

“I figured I should probably learn it,” the second and third grade teacher shrugs. “Lord knows I yelled Ashley’s name enough. It woulda helped if I actually knew her name the first two weeks I was yellin’ at her.”

Barb just laughs. Their lunch period ends, and Melissa finds herself almost excited to come back into the classroom to see you.

You’re sitting at your table, head down as you type furiously on your laptop. You’re trying to finish up this paper to submit for your graduate program. It isn’t due for another three days, but you want to be finished with it so you can attempt to settle into your new job.

Melissa silently meanders her way over to her desk where she sees everything you’ve done. Her eyes widen as she realizes just how much you had completed for her. She opens her filing cabinet and looks at how you’ve organized everything before taping your rather aesthetically pleasing legend to that portion of the cabinet.

“You didn’t have to do all this, hon,” she says softly. “I appreciate it though.”

You wave a hand in dismissal and continue writing your paper. “I had the time, and I didn’t mind. I hope you don’t mind that I graded the third graders’ stuff for you. I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do with it though, so I left it out.”

“Thank you,” she says earnestly. “I really do appreciate it. You just saved my Saturday.”

“Of course, Melissa,” you reply, eyes still glued to your computer.

“You workin’ on something important over there?” she asks.

You stop your typing to look up and smile at her. “Just trying to get ahead on my paper for my one graduate class.”

“You’re in grad school?”

“I am,” you say softly. “I used to teach third grade out in the suburbs of Philly, but I decided to take a leave of absence to take some classes over at Temple. I don’t know if I could handle all of the aspects of teaching while taking four grad classes at a time.”

“Four?” her brows furrow. “That’s a lot of work.”

“It’s nothin’ I can’t handle. I’m trying to get it done as quickly as I can so I can get back to teaching.”

“So how’d you end up here?”

“I could use the money, and all of my classes are at night anyway, so I have time during the day to keep in touch with my inner teacher.”

“What’re you going for?”

“Masters in reading,” you chuckle.

“So that’s why you could help Shyane with her reading and make it make sense for her,” Melissa catches on.

“Yup,” you chuckle, popping your ‘p’. “I can always help with progress monitoring too, if you’d like.”

“That would be greatly appreciated. And your classroom management is amazing,” she compliments.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you blush.

“That’s the quietest my classes have been since... the second week of school,” the redhead tells you as she starts grading the second graders’ work. “Give yourself more credit, rookie.”

---

That was two months ago. In the past two months, your graduate classes have really picked up. During any moment of downtime, you’re doing schoolwork. In this time, Melissa and you have grown close. You’ve come to realize she isn’t as tough as she likes to play- she’s actually quite soft for you. She’s also realized that you truly are an amazing teacher. The two of you are practically co-teaching the two different grades at this point, and she’s given you almost complete control of both grades’ reading workshop times. The two of you actually changed the schedules so that you could direct your full attention to both grades for their reading. While one group is doing their reading workshop lesson on the carpet, the other grade is doing independent work, and Melissa either circulates the room or is doing work at her desk.

You feel like you’re doing all of the work of a teacher at this point, without the pay of a teacher. She’s even asked you to come in for conferences to help explain certain aspects of the day to the students’ parents. At the rate you’re going, you would’ve been better off just staying at your old school and dealing with the parents and students there. You’re drowning. You are absolutely drowning. You don’t think you can do this anymore.

You have to tell Ava you have to quit so you can focus on your classes again. You don’t want to leave the second and third grade teacher with her classes all by herself again... and you honestly don’t want to leave the redhead. She brings a spring to your step and makes you feel like you’re always doing amazingly. But you just... can’t handle doing this anymore. You're beyond stressed, and the only way you function at this point is with copious amounts of caffeine in your system at any given time. It’s unhealthy, you’ve lost weight from the stress and the fact that you barely have time to eat anything, and you need to... you need to leave while you’re on good terms with Melissa. You need to leave before you disappoint her because you’re falling behind.

You enter the classroom early like you always do, setting your things down at your table. Usually, you take this time while Melissa is in the staff room to continue working on a paper or researching, but instead you walk down to Ava’s office.

“Hey, Ava,” you knock gently on the frame of her door. “You have a minute?”

“Hey, girl,” she doesn’t even bother to glance up from her phone. “If you’re looking for more cleaning supplies, Mr. J took them all to-”

“I was actually hoping we could talk,” you say softly. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Are you finally filling out a relationship form for you and Schemmenti?” the principal asks as she looks away from her phone, leaning forward.

“What?” you ask, flabbergasted.

“Oh please,” Ava laughs in your face. “Don’t act like you two haven’t been sneakin-”

“Ava, I’m here to quit,” you get out before she can say anything else.

“W-what? No, you can’t do that,” the principal argues. “That classroom hasn’t been in better shape. Melissa hasn’t been angry walkin’ through the halls since you showed up.”

“I don’t want to leave, but I have to in order to keep up with my grad classes,” you tell her. “I can stay through conferences, but then I really have to focus on my own classwork.”

“But you're just an aide,” Ava tells you. “Surely you can handle it.”

“At this point, Melissa and I are co-teaching, and I’m only making an aide’s money. My grades are starting to slip in grad school, and I have to focus on that,” you tell her. “I’m running myself into the ground. I can’t keep doing this.”

“What if I just don’t accept your resignation?” she challenges.

“Ava!” You fold your arms over your chest. “I’ll stay through conferences to help Mel, but then I have to focus on myself for a little.”

“Mel?”

“Not the point, Principal Coleman.”

“What if I offered you a contracted position?” Ava tries to bargain.

“You and I both know that’s not possible,” you sigh. “I’ve seen the budget, and Abbott is already pushing the limit.”

She groans. “You have to tell your woman though. There ain’t a chance in hell I’m telling her.”

“She’s not my woman,” you roll your eyes, but you exit. You suppose you’ll tell Melissa today during your prep.

You return back to your classroom, and those striking green eyes light up when she sees you.

“There y’are,” she smiles at you. “I was hopin’ you would be here. I wanna talk to you about your thoughts on the field trip for the spring.”

You bite your cheek but nod. She doesn’t need to know you won’t be there for the field trip just yet. And if you tell her right now about your plans, she will flip. There’s not enough time to discuss that before the kids come in. So you wait to tell her. You discuss the different ideas for field trips to maybe do in the Spring. You suggest Longwood Gardens, while she thinks of the zoo. You have the idea to go to an arboretum, and she tells you maybe they could go to the ‘water zoo’, as one of your students loves to call it.

You teach your lesson while she progress-monitors for the other group, and then both classes have their special.

“Ms. Y/N?” the teacher asks. “Would you mind walking them down to the gym while I run to the bathroom?”

You nod, and the kiddos all line up for you. You walk them down and are headed back into the classroom before you’re ready. The redhead falls into step with you as she leaves the bathroom.

“They’ve been pretty good today,” Melissa notes quietly as she walks with you.

“Yeah,” you sigh softly. You start to play with the hem of your shirt nervously as you come to terms with the fact that you have to tell her you’re leaving in three weeks.

“You okay, Y/N?” she picks up on one of your many nervous habits. “You need another pick me up? I can make another pot of coffee for us, although I do think you might benefit from something other than coffee.”

You start to pick at the imaginary lint on your pants. “I think we need to talk, actually.”

“Oh?” she looks at you with eyebrows knit in concern. “You need someone to sign off on your papers for grad classes?”

“N-no,” you chuckle nervously as you close the door. “I uh... I actually need to talk to you about after conferences.”

“Sure. hon. You got another brilliant idea?” She takes a seat at her desk, taking off her glasses and setting them on top of her hair.

You sit on the edge of her desk and take a shaky breath. “Mel, after we hold conferences... I’m done.”

“Y-you’re what?” she freezes in her place.

“After conferences, I have to be done here,” you say softly, and you can’t look at her.

“You’re leavin’ us?” she whispers. She sounds heartbroken. “Leaving me? Just givin’ up on Abbott?”

You shake your head quickly. “No. Melissa, let me explain. Please.” You finally gain the courage to look at her, and you can see the tears in her eyes. You didn’t think leaving would affect her like this.

“Go ahead,” she says, tone full of ice. Her hands are on her hips, and she refuses to look at you. “Tell me why you’re leaving us. Giving up.”

‘Melissa,” you whisper and set a gentle hand on her arm.

“Don’t touch me,” she bites out. “Just explain yourself. How you’re too good for Abbott, so you’re going back to fancy, rich school out in the sub-”

“Melissa, I’m burning out,” you cut her off as you stand and start pacing her room. “I don’t want to leave, but I have to look out for my own well-being.” The redhead goes to open her mouth, but you continue. “I love Abbott more than you could ever imagine, but at this point: I’m running myself into the ground. I’m a full time grad student, I still work my shift at the restaurant on Sundays-”

“You never told me you did th-”

“-And at this point, I’m co-teaching with you. I don’t mind co-teaching with you; I actually love it. But I don’t have the time to plan out lessons, grade papers at home, or help you respond to parents when we’re off the clock. I’m only getting paid the aide’s pay, and I’m drowning in my own school assignments at this point. I-” you choke on your own breath.

All of this is finally spilling out, and you can’t stop the tears that spring to your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You didn’t realize how overwhelmed you were.

“I barely sleep, I barely eat, and I can hardly afford my rent at this point,” you admit so quietly. “So I think I- If I had known this is what being an aide was going to be like, all the responsibilities of a contracted teacher without the teacher pay, I would’ve just stayed at my old school. I- I can’t do this anymore. I’ll stay and help with conferences, but after that... I told Ava I was done.”

The redhead looks at you and the way that you’re shaking, just barely breathing and trying to catch your breath. Her heart breaks for you. This was her fault. She expected too much of you and worked you into the ground.

“Hon,” she stands from her chair and walks around her desk. She pulls you into a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? You could’ve told me.”

“Didn’t wanna- didn’t wanna disappoint you,” you shrug as you practically cling to her.

“Y/N,” Melissa pulls back to look at you. “Are you kidding me? You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried. You have natural talent when it comes to all of this, and even if you gave me just 25% as opposed to your usual 110%... It would be more than enough.”

Again, you shrug. “You kept asking for help, and I didn’t want to say no,” you mumble. “I know you’ve been struggling, and I wanted to make things as easy as possible for you- especially with the two different grades.”

“Hon, I’m a Schemmenti. I was made for tough situations,” the redhead chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. “You, however, are not a Schemmenti. You’re close, but not quite. So you gotta tell me when you’re struggling and need some support or leniency, because I’d rather have a little more on my plate than usual while you’re still here with me than have everything on my plate and not have you here... or worse, have Ashley come back.”

You inhale deeply, finally being able to catch your breath, and you wipe your tears. “I- sorry. I don’t usually get like this, but I’m-”

“Please don’t leave,” Melissa practically begs you. “I don’t know if I can go back to having all of these kids to myself.”

“Mel, I’m working myself into the ground,” you tell her, and you sit down on one of the desks. The tears in your eyes just continue to well and fall. “I really don’t think I can keep doing this... It’s getting bad again.”

“What’s getting bad?” she asks as she mimics your actions.

You run a hand through your hair. A decent clump comes out as you comb your fingers through. You make sure the second and third grade teacher sees it before you throw it out. You sigh a shaky sigh. You suppose you can admit everything now that you’ve burst into tears. “When I get really stressed... I don’t know how to stop. I just keep going, but it affects m-my everything. My hair has been falling out because of my stress. Since I’ve started working here, I’ve lost fifteen pounds because I just don’t have the time to eat, and when I do... I just end up going to bed. And even when I do that, I still only get a maximum of four hours of sleep a night because I know I have things to do for you and the kids. I- I can’t keep doing this to myself, and I know it’ll get to a point where I’m just useless to you. You and the kids deserve so much better than what I’ll be giving you if I keep going. So, I’d rather be able to leave on good terms with Abbott and you before I ruin everything.”

You’re telling her the truth. This is all happening, and you really don’t want to leave on bad terms. You don’t want to disappoint Melissa. You quite literally think your heart would break if Melissa were ever disappointed in you. Over the past two months, all you’ve wanted to do is please Melissa and make her happy- make it easier for her in any way you can.

Somewhere in the middle of being her teacher’s aide, you found yourself falling in love with her. You don’t know it, but she’s head over heels for you too. You make her days so much brighter. Even just your presence and the soft smiles you throw at her occasionally keep her calm, cool, and collected. She would rather have to take on more responsibility again but be able to keep you than have you leave all together and leave her with the shitshow.

“Hon,” she says softly. “Why didn’t you- how can I support you through this?”

You shake out your hands nervously. “I’ll be fine. I just have to get through this rough patch, and then I’ll be fine. I’ll- I’ll pick up more shifts at the restaurant to help cover my rent, and I-” you don’t know what else to say.

“Is there any way I can convince you to stay?” Melissa asks you hopefully. “I really would hate to lose ya.”

You shrug. You aren’t sure. You know that if she can come up with a few solid reasons or ways for you to stay, you will. You don’t want to leave, but it might be what you have to do.

“What if... I know we have a little wiggle room in the budget, so I can-”

“Ava already tried to offer me a contract position, but I know there isn't enough money there,” you sigh.

“But I’m sure we can argue to the board that you deserve some sort of raise?”

“I’m outsourced,” you tell her. “The board isn’t in charge of me.”

“Okay...” the woman desperate to keep you racks her brain for other ideas. “What if... I’ll start taking the third graders’ stuff home to grade instead of you. I’ll make sure I have everything planned out and the materials for lessons other than Reading workshop time... I really do think you do better with that than I ever have. And I’ll handle the parents the best that I can and only run an email by you if I really think I could use some... talking down..., and I- I’ll- I can make ya lunch to make sure you’re at least eating somewhat properly. This way... you’ll have some time to relax at home, you’ll be less stressed, and you can enjoy some of the best Italian food I got to offer. And, during everyone’s independent time, while I progress monitor, all I want you to worry about is making sure that pretty little head of yours is getting your degree. How’s that sound?”

“Mel...” you bite your lip. “That’s all real nice of you, but that doesn’t... I’d be taking a big step back from what you’re used to. I really don’t-”

“Please,” Melissa begs you. “Please. The kids- they love and respect you, and they would be heartbroken if you left. They’ve never listened to anyone as good as they do you. And I don’t want ya to go. It doesn’t even matter if you were to help out with the lessons anymore. You keep the kids calm, and you keep me calm. Like I said, I’m a Schemmenti; I can handle it all- that’s why I got stuck with the two classes in the first place. Gettin’ you was just a bonus. But now that I got ya, I don’t want to let you go. You make me a way better teacher, even if just to keep my emotions in check. Even if you don’t help plan the lessons anymore, or teach the kids... I want you around.You keep me grounded on days where I think I might lose it. I’ll be two seconds from snapping on Tymir, and all I gotta do is look at you to calm me down. I don’t wanna lose that; I don’t wanna lose you... and my sanity. You make my days way brighter than they used to be. Please stay with us.”

She’s doing everything she can to convey how she feels about you without outright saying it. She’s saying anything she can think of to keep you around. She doesn’t want to lose you. She doesn’t want to lose you because no matter what you do, you keep her grounded. You make her a better teacher. You make her days brighter. You keep her in check. She wants you to stay.

You worry your lip between your teeth as you mull everything over in your head. “I just don’t want you to start to hate me,” you admit nervously.

“I could never,” she tells you honestly.

“Even if I’m not doing as much?”

“Even if you did absolutely nothing but sit at your desk and look pretty all day,” she assures you. “I could never hate you.” I love you.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Not the point,” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully. “But yes. I’d have to be blind to think you weren’t pretty.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “O-okay. I’ll stay.”

The next thing you know, Melissa’s arms are around you and squeezing you tightly, thanking you endlessly. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You give a watery chuckle before you hazard a glance at the clock. “I think you gotta go pick up the kiddos from the gym.”

“Dammit,” she grumbles. She pulls away and attempts to wipe away your tears with her sleeve. “Okay, okay. You go pull yourself together, go tell Ava that you ain’t leaving... and then all you gotta worry about today is looking pretty in the back. I don’t care what you do back there... sleep, eat, do research for your paper, start a cult... whatever you have to do to stay here with me... and the kids.”

“I’m not starting a cult,” you chuckle through watery tears. “Thank you, Mel.”

The two of you walk out of the classroom and head your separate ways- her towards the gym, you towards the bathroom.

You manage to pull yourself together a few minutes later, and then you walk down to Ava’s office.

“I take my resignation back,” you tell the principal as you enter her office.

“Your girl ain’t letting you go?”

“She isn’t my girl, but... she asked me to stay and we agreed on terms for me to work under, so I’ll be staying.”

Your principal just makes a whipping sound. “All I’m sayin is, should I get the forms ready for the two of you to file?”

You roll your eyes. “No, Ava. I- She isn’t into me like that.”

“That’s what you think,” Ava fires out. “That woman makes more eyes at you than Gregory did at Janine. It’s only a matter of time before you two come in here holding hands.”

With a huff and a toss of your hair, you exit the office and head back for the second grade wing.

When you re-enter the classroom, the kids are in the middle of snacking, but they’re doing a ‘working snack’ as you and Melissa call it. You don’t know what they’re working on, but when they finish it, they hold it close to their chest and take it up to the redheaded teacher. She gives each of them a sticker (from the tablet of stickers you bought for them) and sets the paper face down on her desk.

They don’t bother you at all as you make your way to the back of the room and settle at your seat. You pull out your laptop and attempt to focus enough to work on your paper, but you can’t help yourself from glancing up at the redheaded teacher every once in a while as she praises the students for their hard work.

Come lunch time, she heads down to the front office to pick up the cheesesteaks she had ordered for the two of you. You smell them before you know they’re for you, and you’re envious of whoever gets to dig into it. A cheesesteak sounds perfect just about now- so much better than the poptart you had packed yourself.

She walks in, both sandwiches in her arms, with a grin. “Put your laptop away, and enjoy lunch for once, hon.”

You nod and pull the poptart out of your bag. You go to open it when she plucks it out of your hand and throws it back into your bag. Instead, she lays the sandwich down in front of you. She pulls one of the chairs up to your table and starts to unwrap hers, biting into it with a moan.

“Damn,” she says through a mouthful. “That hits the spot.”

“M-Mel, you didn’t have to do that,” you say bashfully as you unwrap it. You take a small bite of the sandwich, and while your reaction to the first bite isn’t what Melissa’s was, you have to admit it’s pretty damn good.

“I didn’t have to do anything,” she chuckles. “I wanted to. And when I’m done destroyin’ this, I’m gonna brew us another pot of coffee, and then I’ll cover your recess duty so you can do whatever it is that you have to-”

“Melissa,” you cut her off. “You’re going over the top.”

“I went over the top when I worked ya to the bone. Let me make it up to you.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Well, I’m gonna be out to cover your recess duty whether you’re out there or not, so...”

“Thank you,” you lay a gentle hand over hers and give it a squeeze. “I appreciate it.”

“I appreciate you and all the hard work you’ve been doing. If you need another day like this at any point where the kids don’t bother you or nothin’, all you gotta do is ask. I’ll always make sure to make it work for you. Anything for you. You hear me?” she tells you.

“Loud and clear, Ms. Schemmenti,” you giggle as you give her a mock salute. “Hey, what were the kids working on when I came in?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Melissa tries to dismiss your question. “You’ll figure it out by the end of the day.”

The rest of your lunch period passes as it usually does. The two of you talk about everything, even in just twenty five minutes.

“Alright, hon,” Melissa stands and zips her jacket. “I’ll be out in the recess yard. You do whatever you gotta do, yeah?”

“You really don’t have to cover my recess-”

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” she lays a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently. “Let me do this for you.”

You nod. “Thanks, Mel.”

By the end of the day, your students haven’t bothered you once. Melissa has taken charge of the entire day, even changing plans around so she could teach both classes at the same time and monitor their independent work time simultaneously. You’re sitting in the back, eyes barely open as you type up the last of your paper. God, you’re exhausted. You can’t wait to go home and-

“Ms. Y/N,” Melissa singsongs. She taps your shoulder, and- How’d she even get next to you? And why are the kids lined up in front of you?

“Ms. Schemmenti?”

“Today, during snack time we figured we could use our time to make you cards to show how much we care for our favorite classroom aide,” the redhead says sweetly. “Isn’t that right, my little eagles?”

They all nod enthusiastically. One by one, they hand you different drawings, pictures, words, poems... everything so that you know how much you mean to them. With each paper you’re gifted with, you also get a hug.

Melissa is the last one in line, and she hands you a paper folded neatly. You open it and glance over what she had written. She just tells you how grateful she is for everything you’ve done, and how thrilled she is that you’ve decided to stick around.

It’s short, it’s sweet, it’s perfect. It’s so Melissa.

“Thank you, Ms. Schemmenti,” you breathe out as you wipe at your tears. “Wow. Thank you guys!”

“We love you, Ms. Y/N!” the class exclaims.

“And I love you guys,” you laugh through the last of your tears. “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, the bell rings, and all chaos breaks loose as the kids head out. You and the redhead are packing up the last of your things when you hear her sigh.

“So... what do you say you come over to my place tonight, and I make ya dinner while you finish up your paper and then relax? Make your life a little easier.”

“You already fed me one meal today and made my life easier,” you laugh as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

“What’s one more?” she shrugs. “Offer’s on the table, and I make one mean risotto.”

“Alright, Mel,” you sigh in good nature. “But I’m bringing wine.”

“Grab something good.”

---

The redhead and you walk into Ava’s office together a month and a half later.

“I knew it,” she celebrates quietly. She then leans into the PA system. “Attention, Mr. Johnson: You lost! Fool!”

She opens her drawer and pulls out the forms for HR.

She’s already filled out most of it with a sparkly pink pen- all you two have to do is sign the bottom to recognize that the two of you are in a workplace relationship.

“Ava!” you exclaim as you look over them.

“I told you it was only a matter of time,” she says with a smug look on her face.

You hate to admit it, but Ava was right.

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader

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tellmyah · 27 days

Note

I always see dbf!Abby but never dbf?reader🏃🏽‍♀️‍➡️🏃🏽‍♀️‍➡️maybe? Idk

༉‧₊˚. — this is so genius??? thank you anon ily

it all starts when you notice a middle-aged man with dirty blonde hair outside of the house across the street from yours, a look of disappointment on his face. he has many potted plants, maybe too many, and over half of them are dying. you stroll over to his front yard and he wastes no time in expressing his frustration to you, a total stranger who had just moved here with your family a few weeks ago.

“i just don’t get it. i water them every single day. it’s not like they aren’t getting enough sunlight, right?”

you hum in acknowledgment, and he steps aside to allow you to take a look for yourself. it’s almost comical how quickly you notice the cause of his problem.

“it has nothing to do with the amount of sunlight or water they’re getting, actually. look at the soil of the ones that are dying.” you kneel down to feel the soil of one droopy plant in particular– a bunch of faded red petunias– and gather some soil between your fingers. “dry as a desert.”

you spend the rest of your day helping jerry replace the soil in the effected pots over some pleasant small talk, in which he confides in you that ever since his wife passed away, he’s been struggling to upkeep her impressive garden. the hard work is done by the time the sun sets, and he invites you in to wash your hands and have a glass of water.

that’s the very first time you get to meet abby.

she’s about your age, standing at nearly six feet tall. even in her sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, you can tell that she’s made of pure muscle. initially, when she walks down the stairs and sees a random girl in her kitchen, having a conversation with her father about invasive plant species in seattle, she’s puzzled, but she recognizes you fairly quickly.

she remembers watching from her bedroom window while you helped your mom to drag a couch in through the front door. she remembers going outside to check the mailbox and seeing you, sitting on your porch, feet propped up on the short wooden fence with a book in your hands. she could never seem to take her eyes off of you any chance she got to see you, so, when she sees you standing in her home, she completely freezes. luckily for her, jerry rushes to introduce the two of you.

“i didn’t even know you were home, sweetie! abby, this is y/n. y/n, this is abby, my daughter.”

“hey,” she extends a hand, “i’m abby.”

you smile as you reach for her hand and shake it. “bet you can’t guess what my name is.”

abby’s nose scrunches up as she realizes her mistake, completely aware that she isn’t thinking straight. she can’t be too embarrassed, though. not with the way your eyes scan her from head to toe like a predator sizing up its prey. “cut me some slack, i haven’t had my coffee yet. anyways, why are you both covered in dirt?”

the night ends with jerry scolding abby for making coffee so late, and thanking you for all of your help before sending you home with a homemade chocolate chip muffin.

since then, jerry shows up at your door when he needs help or simply has a question about gardening, and you never hesitate to help him. he’s a respectable man who just wants to honor his wife’s memory, to keep something of hers alive even if it isn’t her.

within a few months, his garden is looking lively and vibrant and noticeably healthy. after a few more months, he’s able to do everything you’ve taught him on his own, but you still come visit a few times a week to see how it’s going.

each and every time, abby finds some excuse to talk to you. you aren’t blind to it, but you certainly aren’t opposed to it. she’ll compliment your hair, your outfit, thank you for helping her dad with something so important to him, and anything else she can say to get you to stick around longer.

it isn’t much longer until jerry invites you to a barbecue in his backyard. an hour into it, he’s standing with a few of his friends around the grill, some neighborhood kids are playing with water guns in the yard, and you can’t help but notice his daughter’s absence.

you excuse yourself to the restroom in the middle of a gossip session with a few older ladies from around the block. however, the first thing you do when you step inside is beeline up the stairs and toward abby’s room.

of course, you knock first, and hear a muffled “come in” from the other side of the door. you enter, and see abby sitting on her bed with her laptop open, clearly drowning in her college work. her messy blonde hair is in a low bun, and her body is engulfed by a sweatshirt that is at least two sizes too big for her. she glances up, notices it’s you, and immediately straightens her slouched posture. “oh. y/n, uh… hey. you look nice. like, really nice.”

“nice enough to make you come join the party?”

“not that nice. i’m dying over here.” she vaguely gestures to her laptop.

“you’re pretty for a dead girl.” you hum, walking over to sit next to her and take a look at the laptop. there’s a concoction of mathematical problems plastered on the screen from top to bottom. your eyes hurt just looking at it. “oh, abby, you poor thing. all i can do is pray for you.”

“why do i need to know what a logarithm function is? and since when is there limits to infinity? i thought the whole point of infinity is that it’s limitless.”

you decide to cut her off before she can get any more worked up than she already is. “what’s your major?”

“pathology. which, mind you, has nothing to do with logarithm functions.”

you huff out a laugh. “pathology… what’s that? something medical, right?”

“yeah, pretty much just the study of diseases.”

“that’s hot.“

abby stares at you blankly, and you stare right back. clearly, you have her full attention now. “why do you always do shit like that?”

“like what?”

“like, you know… ‘that’s hot,’ shit like that.” she says, trying her luck at a very bad impression of you. “calling me pretty. staring at me.”

“because i think you’re pretty, and i like staring at you.” you answer simply. “why? want me to stop?”

“i didn’t say that.”

you smile, eyes studying her flustered face, the pout on her parted lips and the reddening blush across her cheeks.

just as she thinks you’re finally going to make a move, you stand up from your spot on her bed and begin heading toward the door. “well, it’s always nice talking to you, abby, but i gotta get back to the party before linda thinks i abandoned her.”

“what– who’s linda?” she tilts her head.

“the lady from down the street. you know, the one with the blue eyeshadow and smoker’s cough.”

abby scoffs at the description. “oh, right. linda. do you really have to go?”

you lean against the doorframe and cross your arms. “i don’t know. what would happen if i stayed?”

this questions seems to leave abby at a loss for words. is there even a right answer? she could be reading too far into this, and end up looking like a creep if she spoke her mind– but then again, she could be missing out on a golden opportunity if she doesn’t. she’s wanted you for as long as she’s known you, that’s completely true, but saying it out loud is something different.

after a long few moments of silence, you stand upright once more and reach for her doorknob. “thought so.”

with that, you shut her door and join the party downstairs once more, leaving abby alone with a million thoughts and feelings. she can’t focus on her work. she can’t focus on anything other than the way you smelled, sitting so close to her. how soft your skin looked, how she gets goosebumps just thinking about your voice.

once the party has died down and she’s done helping her dad clean up, she rushes back up to her room (and puts away all of the schoolwork she never got to), so that she can send you a simple message from her phone.

can you come over?

#the last of us #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader

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ginnsbaker · 2 months

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (7/?)

Part summary: Six weeks later, Leigh decides to throw herself a birthday party.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.600+ | Warnings : None | Author's Note: Just a reminder that this doesn't strictly follow canon events. Borrowed some elements from the actual birthday episode, but it's going to go very differently for us :) Enjoy!

Six weeks later

“Hey! Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Leigh’s mom calls out from the kitchen as Leigh hurries down the stairs. She runs straight into Amy’s arms, a ball of energy, drawing bewildered looks from her mom and sister. Ever since Matt died, they are used to Leigh either being too quiet or too snarky. Today, of all days, they were expecting her to be something else much worse. But it seems they're mistaken as Leigh turns to Jules, yanks her in close, and kisses her hair.

Jules and Amy share a look. To say this as an interesting development would be an understatement. It's her birthday—her first one without Matt, who had been at the heart of her celebrations for the last decade. They hope Leigh finds some happiness, truly, but these past several months have taught them to temper their expectations.

They keep their silent exchange to themselves, watching as Leigh picks up a croissant and takes a heart bite out of it, her face lit up with the widest smile. “Happy birthday,” Jules grins, pushing a small envelope towards Leigh. “Got something for you.”

“Thank you!” Leigh exclaims. She eagerly opens the envelope to find a bunch of homemade coupons, each promising some sort of favor from Jules, good for the next year. They range from “Will listen to your rants for 30 minutes, no interruptions” to “I will restart the book club you tried to get me and mom to do and actually read the books this time.”

Laughing, Leigh flips through them. “These are brilliant, Jules. Might have to use one today,” she says, already thinking about which one she'll cash in first. Then, she pulls Jules in a bear hug, as if it’s the most exquisite present she’s ever gotten in her lifetime.

“You okay?” Leigh asks when she notices Amy staring at her.

Jules gives their mom a warning look as Amy struggles to come up with a response. “Nothing, I just… I didn’t think you’d be doing quite so well today. That’s all.”

“I didn’t either but we all make choices and I’m choosing to have a great birthday. So, let’s do this thing!” Leigh says in a manner that Jules feels too over the top. Amy starts laying out the plans for the evening and Leigh has a blank look by the time she finishes running them through it.

“I think I want a party,” Leigh announces. It’s met with astonishment, as if it’s the last thing her family’s expecting to hear.

“You do?” Amy.

“A party?” Jules.

Leigh isn’t perturbed by their reactions. “I do. I want a party,” she confirms. She delights at the dumb look on their faces as she reiterates, “Tonight. I want a big party.”

“You’re not having a big party.”

Danny calls her up the minute he gets her Facebook invite. He's partly furious about receiving the invite through Facebook, given that they’re “kind of seeing each other”, and partly incredulous because he couldn’t believe she’s making plans on her birthday without considering the fact that they are “kind of seeing each other”.

Leigh, phone wedged between her shoulder and ear as she flips through a recipe book on her kitchen counter, rolls her eyes so hard she worries they might stick that way.

“Well, yes, Danny, that's exactly what I'm doing,” she fires back matter-of-factly.

Danny's frustration simmers on the other end of the line. He had already made plans, not bothering to consult Leigh because he assumed that their day would be spent together—privately, just the two of them.

“You didn’t think I’d have something planned?” he asks, more hurt than angry.

“Why would I think that?”

“Because we’re dating, Leigh,” he says, appalled that he needs to remind her. Leigh takes a second, biting her lip. Maybe it was a bit inconsiderate that she didn’t consider Danny when she impulsively decided she wanted a big celebration. But that flicker of guilt is short lived.

After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she’s actually excited for something, the last time she thought, I deserve to be happy.

“Yeah, well, I can still do what I want, Danny,” she retorts.

“Now you’re acting like a child,” he snaps.

Leigh feels a flash of anger, then something else—determination. “Maybe so. Come to the party or not, I don’t care. I'm going to have fun, Danny, with or without you.”

“Fine. Just don’t—”

Leigh doesn’t let him finish. With a press of a button, the call ends, his words cut off mid-sentence. Too often, she’s been criticized for not always following through with her declarations, but it's a different game when she's out to prove something.

Drew steps carefully around a minefield of clothes and makeup scattered on the floor to get to Leigh. She's curled up over her laptop, one leg propped on the chair, chin on her knee, in a posture that makes Drew wince. “For a fitness instructor, you're not exactly a poster child for back health,” he says, announcing himself to his best friend.

Leigh's head snaps up at Drew's voice, but instead of annoyance, a smirk quickly spreads across her face. “Good thing I'm not a fitness instructor anymore, then,” she says. Then she turns her attention back to her laptop as if he’s not there. Drew moves to sit on the edge of her bed, flops down on it like a ragdoll and stares at the cobwebs on the corners of the ceiling.

“I know what you’ve been doing, Leigh,” he says.

Leigh is unphased, keeps typing. Then, as if she’s just heard his remark, mutters a distracted, “What have I been doing?”

“Avoiding. You've been avoiding writing about anything that's even remotely related to love or grief,” Drew says.

This time, Leigh stops typing. She sighs, a long, drawn-out exhale that seems to carry the weight of the world. “I’m busy, Drew. This gig is eating up all my time.”

After leaving the Beautiful Beast, she took on a part-time job as a remote project manager. With Matt gone, she's left to deal with the debts they racked up together. She loved her studio job, really did, and wasn't fazed by the slim paycheck because it helped her mom out. Being surrounded by family has been a huge support (despite her occasional squabbles with Jules), but she knows she'll need to move out on her own again at some point. Ultimately, the pressing need for financial stability has pushed her to seek out better-paying opportunities.

Drew straightens up, leaning in with his elbows on his knees. “Bullshit.”

Leigh looks over her shoulder at him with mild irritation. “What do you want me to say, Drew?”

“You're meeting your weekly quota on other topics,” he points out. “Makes me wonder if bringing you back to the advice column was…premature.”

It sounds like a threat, but coming from him, she understands it as an early warning in case the senior editor begins to notice the issue. Leigh smiles thinly, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why does it even matter which topics I choose to engage with? First off, I'm collaborating with other writers now; it's not entirely my show anymore. Secondly, I've been doing a good job—”

“A great job, actually.”

Leigh tilts her head, genuinely puzzled. “So, what's the problem?”

“They're expecting you to lead on those topics because you've lived through them. They're looking for more authenticity in the pieces,” Drew explains.

Leigh looks out the window, seemingly lost in thought, then shakes her head slightly. “What, you want me to write about how I started picking fights left and right after Matt died? Do you want me to detail my attempts at fixing his depression, as if it were as manageable as setting a broken bone?”

“You don’t have to delve into the most personal details.”

“It can’t be authentic if it’s not personal,” Leigh sneers.

“Just think about it, okay?” Drew presses, a little desperately.

Leigh chews on the inside of her cheek, mulling it over. There's a whole part of her story she hasn't even touched on with him—the string of one-night stands with Danny, the way she's snapped at anyone who dared to disagree with her in the past few weeks. She's been on edge, not really liking the person she's been, and the thought of putting that version of herself out there for everyone to see is nothing short of humiliating.

As a writer, she knows what to say, the same way a psychologist would know what to do even if they don’t need to have all sorts of human experience to help someone in every situation. But she also questions her right to preach behavior to others when she's far from having it all figured out herself. Regardless of her indecision, she knows Drew’s not going to drop it until she at least tells him she’ll consider.

“Fine,” she says, with a nod. “I'll sift through the inbox and tackle the ones I feel up to.”

“There you go, that's my girl,” Drew says, visibly relaxing. But then, a moment later, he feels a stab of guilt for showing up mostly because of work. It's been a while since they've hung out, their usual brunch dates falling through one after the other, and their daily chats have shriveled up to a few messages a week, with mostly just memes from Leigh that Drew hardly ever acknowledges. Eventually, Leigh just stopped sending them.

Drew fidgets, avoiding eye contact for a second before it dawns on him—he hasn't just been busy; he's been dodging Leigh on purpose ever since he popped the question to his partner. He was worried Leigh wouldn’t take the news well, considering the things she’s been going through. But if he’s being brutally honest with himself, a part of him just didn't want her grief to dampen his excitement. He was worried her sadness might dampen his spirits, and in a bid to preserve his own happiness, he’d left her out in the cold. He hadn't stopped to think that maybe he owed Leigh more than just her column.

“So, uh, how’s it going?” Drew asks cautiously.

“It’s going,” Leigh offers. Heartfelt talks aren't their thing, so Leigh decides to brush it off fast. “By the way, I'm throwing a birthday party for myself.” It comes out a bit more cheerfully than she feels.

“A party? That's great, Leigh!” Drew exclaims. “And hey, if you need help setting up or anything, just let me know.”

“Yeah,” she forces a smile, not as enthusiastic as she was about the idea at breakfast. “It's tonight, though. You're coming, right? And bring anyone fun you know.”

“Wow, OK,” Drew nods before his face morphs into a grin, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, is this where you're planning to hard launch your new relationship? At your party?”

Leigh’s eyes sharpen into slits. “You know about Danny?”

“Jules told me,” he says.

Rolling her eyes, Leigh retorts, “Let me guess, she told you so you'd join the haters club?”

“Nah,” Drew shrugs, his smile bright and sunny. “Danny's okay, I guess. If you're happy, I'm happy.”

She hasn’t been not happy lately. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it sure beats being on her own. So maybe she is—or at least, on her way.

“Thanks, Drew,” she murmurs thoughtfully.

Drew makes himself comfy, chin in hand, looking like he's all set for one of their marathon catch-ups. "So, how did you and Danny even start? Tell me everything."

Leigh's trunk is a one-can band, banging and clanging with every turn. Her groceries create a beat, something to fill in the lack of sound in her car. It’s how she drives these days—in utter silence. Before, she wouldn't even think of heading out without the perfect playlist, which often took her an extra five to fifteen minutes after settling into the driver's seat. But these days, as soon as the key is in the ignition, she twists it and takes off, not even waiting for the car to warm up.

Organizing a party by herself (with Jules' indispensable assistance, of course) and extending invites to her entire Facebook friends list has turned into quite the ruse. She's seasoned enough to temper her expectations—knowing well that not everyone who RSVP'd “yes” will show, and that some who didn't bother to RSVP might just surprise her by showing up. So, she's stocked up on as much food as her sedan can hold.

While Leigh's mind wanders to what snacks to whip up and what sauces to pair them with, she accidentally ends up on a lane that forces a left turn instead of going straight. This little misstep means she's got to take the scenic route home, which, by pure coincidence, takes her right past your clinic's street.

Her heartbeat quickens, though it shouldn't. There's no reason for it. She hasn't seen you in a month, not since the night she made a bold declaration on her bedroom door.

Leigh never planned on actually liking you as a person. Initially, her motive was purely to get a closer look, to dissect what it was about you that caught Matt's eye, what you possessed that she lacked. However, the answer to that mystery didn't remain elusive for long after spending a little time with you. You had this kindness about you, soft and easy, something Leigh’s always found just out of her reach. She prides herself on being decent enough but next to you, she feels a bit more like sandpaper to your silk.

Matt was like that too—gentle, easygoing. Leigh is well aware of her own rough edges, her sharp corners that don't quite align with Matt's smoother ones—and, by extension, yours. You and Matt had more in common than just interests; you both saw and reacted to the world in similar ways. Finding out that you and Matt were alike in important ways, in ways she wasn't, is something she's still learning to cope with.

As she nears your clinic, her eyes instinctively search it out, a habit she can't seem to break.

This time, her timing is impeccable; just as she glides by, you step outside with a puppy in your arms, licking your face all over. You catch sight of her car from a distance, and you couldn’t stop the surprise that flashes across your face. As she drives past, you give her a little wave, puppy still in tow. Leigh cracks a small smile, then throws on her aviators, maybe trying to hide a bit more than her eyes. She sneaks one last look in the rearview, catching you watching her car disappear down the street before you head back into the clinic.

As soon as she gets home and is safely out of the car, she opens her messages.

The last text you sent her says, “I'm sorry. I hope we can still be friends,” sent three days after the encounter in her bedroom. She didn't respond to it, and you didn't push any further or impose yourself on her.

She wishes she had at least reacted with a heart or sent a smiley face to your message. Maybe then, inviting you to her party tonight wouldn’t feel so awkward. Nevertheless, she manages to type out a quick invite and extends to you the courtesy of bringing a plus one, someone you believe would be good company.

Your response arrives within five seconds of her hitting send.

“Thank you, I'll be sure to drop by :)” - Y/N

Satisfied, Leigh sets her phone aside. Now, she can focus on making those Deviled eggs.

The dress she's pulled from Jules's closet is a bold choice: deep black with a plunging neckline and a hem that flirts with daring. It's sexy, but not quite Leigh's usual style—and that's exactly why she loves it. It clings to her in all the right places, promising a confidence that Leigh isn't entirely sure she feels. Her hair, which is normally pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, hangs loose and wavy. She tops off her outfit with a slick of red lipstick and layers of dark eyeliner.

With about an hour to spare before her guests are due to arrive, Leigh decides it's the perfect time to follow through on a promise she made to Drew. She logs into the shared inbox of the advice column she co-manages with two other writers at Basically News. Leigh scrolls through the submissions, Drew’s words playing on repeat in her head. He had a point. Maybe people don't always need the right answers—answers she hardly uses herself. Perhaps what they really need is someone to affirm what they're already feeling, to say it's okay to follow their gut, to be themselves.

She reads an interesting entry from one EspressoEyes:

“Do you think it's too much for me to give a puppy to this woman I like? I'm not even sure she likes me back (or like me in general 😣), but it's her birthday, and I feel like a puppy could be exactly what she needs at this moment.”

Leigh reads the message, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. Personally, she muses, she'd welcome a puppy from just about anyone. But that's just her, especially with the rollercoaster of a year she's had—she's at a point where the gesture, no matter who it comes from, would be a welcome slice of joy.

Thinking it over, she starts replying, “A puppy is a big gesture—it can be an overwhelming gift for some. It might even be seen as too forward, especially in certain relationships.Yet, a gift is a gift. Sometimes, you need to just go for it, without apologies. If her feelings don't align, she'll let you know. She has to, because giving a puppy is essentially a love declaration, in case you hadn't realized. And who knows? She might feel the same about you. Just make sure she's actually up for the responsibility of a pet. They're for life, not just for birthdays.”

She signs off with her pen name—Gigi Herrel—a clever anagram of her name as it would have been had she taken Matt's last name in marriage: Leigh Greer. Though it never quite felt like her own. She only used it when she came back to Basically News in obeisance to his passing. Drew has granted her the autonomy to publish her responses without his oversight (“Just make sure your grammar is perfect,” he said), so Leigh doesn’t think twice before publishing her response.

Leigh moves on to browse through other submissions, this time, on those related to marriage and loss—the very subjects she promised Drew she would tackle. She’s been in those shoes, still feels like she's wearing them. With a deep breath, she clicks on one and dives right into it. Her first attempt at a response feels inadequate, prompting her to hit delete and start anew. This process repeats itself, one draft after another, until she has five versions sitting in front of her, none of which feel right. With a huff, she deletes them all.

Just then the doorbell rings, pulling her out of her advice-column vortex. Leigh glances around, momentarily disoriented. It takes her a moment to recall that there's a party happening downstairs, and she's meant to be enjoying herself.

She’s halfway down the stairs when Jules's eyes land on her. Leigh freezes, as if she’s been caught red-handed. “I…couldn’t find the coupon for borrowing your clothes.”

Jules just smirks and arches an eyebrow, taking in Leigh in her dress. “Oh please, as if I ever keep track. Besides, that was just gathering dust after my ‘slutty Halloween phase’ as you so lovingly called it.”

“Cool! Perfect!” Leigh says, ignoring the backhanded comment. Her focus immediately turns to the front door as another guest arrives. “Hey, Dad!” she calls out.

Leigh’s dad walks in with his partner, and she greets them with a warmth that's been rare these days. He hands her a large, beautifully wrapped box. Leigh grasps the gift with both hands, shaking it gently, much like a child on Christmas morning. She’s thanking them when an old friend from high school she hasn’t seen in forever walks through the door, a bottle of wine in hand. Her mom swoops in like a hawk, reminding everyone it's a dry party in support of Jules's sobriety, and the wine is swiftly traded for a mocktail.

For the next hour, the house fills up. Leigh finds herself out back, tending to snacks, when a small line of people forms to chat with her. They each ask if she’s doing okay, their condolences tucked neatly between cheerful birthday wishes. Leigh’s smiling, but it's so fake even she is not buying it, mentally blacklisting half of these people for next time.

Just when the parade of condolence callers is beginning to fray her patience, one of her actual favorite humans finally shows up, saving her mood from souring completely. Drew looks striking in a simple black polo shirt, so much so that it reminds Leigh of the time Matt got all jealous over him, until Leigh let him in on the secret that he plays for the other team.

He passes her a little envelope, his birthday offering—a gift card. Leigh’s barely expressed her thanks over the simple present when he jumps right into feedback on her latest advice column.

“Read your puppy counsel on my way here. It felt a bit... casual, don’t you think?”

Leigh smirks up at him, arms crossed, the gift card crinkling between her forearms. “Just say it's terrible advice if that's what you mean.”

Drew purses his lips before relenting. “Fine. It was terrible advice.”

“Expect more of that if I tackle the stuff I’ve been avoiding. Still think it’s a good idea?” Leigh says, nodding like it’s exactly what she wants to hear. Drew lets out a sigh, swiftly steering the conversation away before their playful banter escalates into a disagreement. With Leigh, he knows all too well that the edge of an argument is always closer than it seems.

“Anyway, happy birthday, again,” he says, trying to lighten the mood again. “Ryan's tied up with work stuff, totally wiped, but he did wish you a happy birthday.”

Leigh’s face hardens slightly at the mention of Ryan. She’s been harboring this nagging thought that Ryan dislikes her, a suspicion fueled by a criticism she once shared with Drew in confidence, suspecting Drew might have passed it along. Drew, seeing her expression change, doesn’t rush to correct her assumption.

“He hates me,” Leigh concludes before Drew can even get a word out.

“He doesn’t—”

“What I don’t understand is why you couldn’t have kept it between us?” she demands, feeling betrayed.

“Because Ryan’s my person. I tell him everything. That’s how being in a marriage works,” he says, but the moment he sees Leigh's face fall, he wishes he could retract those words.

Leigh bristles, her voice rising, “I know how being married works!”

She's livid, because that should go without saying. How dare he imply that she no longer knows, now that she's only half of a whole—her best friend, of all people.

Drew exhales coolly, as if trying to douse the proverbial fire between them. “Why does it seem like we're always either fighting or about to fight?” he wonders aloud.

Leigh’s anger softens into something more reflective, and she sighs, the fight draining out of her. “I don’t mean to...” She trails off, searching for the right words. “It’s like I’m always ready for a battle. I don’t know why. It’s like I’m expecting it, waiting for it, at the end of every day.”

Drew lets the moment breathe, waiting for both of them to deflate completely before tacitly reaching out behind Leigh for a snack. “These are great, by the way,” he says between bites, acting like they hadn’t just been at each other's throats.

Leigh tries to match Drew’s candidness, but inside, she’s reeling. It bothers her, this pattern they’ve fallen into—her temper flaring up, followed by a quick brush-off, as if these outbursts are merely now a part of who she is. She hates that she’s become predictable in her volatility, that her explosions are met with a shrug and a wait-out-the-clock mentality from those around her. She’s tired of it, tired of being seen as a ticking time bomb, her anger and hurt dismissed as just Leigh being Leigh, waiting for the reset button to be hit so the countdown can start all over again.

But it's her birthday, and she's brought these people together on a Tuesday night for fun. She didn't gather everyone just to tell them, once and for all, that they need to stop acting as if her husband just died.

So, she goes with the flow, laughing when it's her cue, even though deep down, she feels more alone in the crowd than ever.

With the absence of alcohol, the party winds down by 11 PM. Guests begin trickling out as early as 10, and by the time Leigh is bidding farewell to the last attendee, she's already donned an apron, ready to take on the mountain of dishes left behind.

Which is to say, showing up right now pretty much means you've missed the whole party.

Pulling up in front of Leigh's house, the night already deep into its quiet hours, you’re running on the adrenaline of the day's emergencies. Two cases back-to-back at the clinic, one of them diving straight into surgery, left you no choice but to push everything else to the side. Suzie, who was meant to join you as your plus one, ends up stuck back at work, tending to a recovering St. Bernard, so it's just you and the sleeping puppy on your lap now. For her sacrifice, you promise to take her out to a nice lunch one of these days.

The puppy starts wagging its tail in its sleep, and you look down with a smile at the little dreamer. The decision to give Leigh the puppy wasn't made lightly. You've been turning the idea in your mind for a while now. Initially, you didn't even realize her birthday was coming up, and the invitation to her party caught you off guard, especially considering the somewhat unresolved way things were left between you two weeks ago. The timing of her birthday, your rocky history, it all made you second-guess whether a puppy was a good idea. In search of a voice outside your own head, you turned to a favorite advice column you often read in your spare time. To your surprise, your submission was picked up by one of the columnists, and the response you got wasn't just advice; it was the push you needed. You were lucky to be able to catch their answer, just before you got home to change for Leigh’s birthday party.

Trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, you give yourself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror and apply a fresh swipe of nude-colored lipstick. With one last look, you carefully step out of the car, the sleeping puppy nestled securely in your arms. The moment you move, it stirs, burrowing deeper into your armpit, seeking refuge from the light of the street lamps.

Everything's too quiet as you walk up to Leigh's house. You anticipated some noise, music or chatter—anything to indicate the party was in full swing. But there are none. Could you have missed the party? Or worse, did Leigh get the date wrong on her invite? Hesitantly, you press the doorbell, instantly regretting it, thinking you might be waking up the whole house.

Just as you're about to bail, the door swings open and it's Jules.

“Y/N!” Jules nearly trips over herself getting to you, eyes wide when she spots the furball you’re holding.

“Hi Jules,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Is that a…” she squeaks out, already reaching for a cuddle before you've even nodded. Jules is all over the puppy, who seems just as happy to be the center of attention. After a while, she looks up, a bit more composed but still glowing.

“I didn’t know Leigh invited you. Too bad, you just missed the party. But you should definitely come in and say hi to Leigh,” she says. You want nothing more than to see Leigh again, even if only for a brief moment, just to accomplish what you came here for and perhaps wish her a happy birthday. But with the party over and you potentially being the only guest, it feels like walking into a situation you don’t think you’re prepared enough for.

Then, as the puppy licks Jules' face off, she pauses and looks at you funny. It clicks for her—no collar, no leash, just you and this puppy who appear no more than two months old.

“Oh my gosh, is this for Leigh?” Jules gasps.

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I-If she wants him.”

Jules looks at you, then at the puppy, her smile blinding. “Well, I want him. But if she doesn’t, I’ll be more than happy to be his mommy.”

You laugh at her enthusiasm. Still feeling skittish, you ask, “Do you think it’s an appropriate gift for Leigh?”

“You're a vet. It's kind of on-brand for you,” Jules quips.

You laugh again. “Really?” you ask, kind of hoping for a more solid reassurance.

Jules considers it for a second, before saying, “I can at least assure you it’s not unwanted.”

Good enough, you think. Jules hands you back the puppy and then says, “She’s in the kitchen. Look, she’s not exactly in a good mood, but I think you should go for it anyway.”

That’s two people egging you to go ahead with your surprise. It must be a sign from the universe. You make up your mind for the final time. “Thanks, Jules,” you say.

“Anytime.”

You tread lightly, making sure your footsteps don’t give you away as you approach the kitchen. Leigh is at the sink, doing the dishes, clad in a black dress that skims her thighs, her feet bare against the cool kitchen tiles. Her shoulders are slumped, her movements laconic, as if her body is there, but her mind is miles elsewhere. The expanse of skin revealed by her hair tied up in a high ponytail captivates you, holding you back from announcing your presence. You allow yourself a moment to take her in, thinking this might be the only chance you get to really look at her like this.

You’re about to say “Hi”, when Leigh whirls around, startling you both. Leigh, not expecting anyone to be there, loses her grip on the plate she's holding, and it smashes loudly against the floor.

“Jesus!” Leigh’s scream summons Jules and her mom into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you are trying to do damage control—holding the puppy with one hand and attempting to gather the ceramic shards with the other as Leigh continues to stare at you in shock.

Amy, wrapped in her robe, looks from the mess on the floor to you and then to Leigh. “What’s going on here?”

Jules is unfazed, simply watches the entire scene from a corner of the room, smirking.

Your cheeks flush with shame, and you find yourself grateful to be still seated on the floor, your back turned away from Leigh's family.

“I’m so—” you start, but Leigh cuts you off.

“Okay, everyone just...calm down," Leigh says. She kneels down beside you, her hands joining yours in cleaning up the broken pieces.

“I'm heading to bed,” Jules says and then winks at you. “Happy to see you, Y/N!”

Amy wraps her robe more snugly around herself, then with a small, puzzled shake of her head, says, “Well, good night everyone. And happy birthday again, sweetheart,” before she walks down the hall and out of sight. Leigh gets to her feet, a slight nod of appreciation directed your way as she holds open a trash bag for you to deposit the ceramic shards. That’s when the puppy finally catches her attention.

“And who's this little guy?” she asks, a smile starting to play at the corners of her mouth.

You clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. He’s yours if you want him. Don’t worry about refusing, there’s someone lined up to take him in case you’re not—”

But Leigh’s already gently taking the puppy from your arms, instantly cradling and bouncing him as though he’s a tiny human baby. It’s a sight both funny and utterly endearing, and you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle, feeling your heart grow a size or two.

“Who wouldn't want him? He's perfect,” Leigh says, her eyes not leaving him as he nestles comfortably in her arms. Hearing those words, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. She doesn't find it odd; she's already falling for him.

“Happy birthday,” you tell her, and when she looks at you, her smile is so bright it could light up the whole night. Right there is everything you hoped for. All you really wanted was to see her happy.

“Thank you so much,” she murmurs, clutching the puppy tighter to her chest. Then, cocking her head to the side, she inquires, “What's his name?”

The grin on your lips can’t be helped, and you’re hoping she wouldn’t see just how much she’s having an effect on you. “I haven’t named him yet. He was always meant to be yours, Leigh,” you say.

Her smile just gets bigger as she gazes down at the little furball in her arms, and you think this is exactly how things were supposed to go down. It’s one of those rare moments where reality lines up perfectly with expectation.

“I think I’ll call him Logan.”

You and Leigh retire to the living room after she kindly offers to make you decaf. As you settle onto opposite ends of the couch, tucking your feet under you, Logan instinctively takes shelter in Leigh's lap, as if he already knows he belongs there.

“So…Why Logan?” you ask, after making a mental note of how Leigh makes her coffee: one cream, two sugars.

“Well,” Leigh says, her fingers gently stroking Logan’s deep chocolate fur, “he just looks like a little wolverine, doesn’t he? With that color and those defiant little eyes.”

The dots connect in a funny, unexpected sort of way. Leigh and comic books don't seem like the most likely pair.

“Ah, like the X-Men character. I didn’t know you were a comic book fan,” you say.

She laughs, a sound that’s light and free of any shadows. “Oh, I wasn’t. Not really. It was all Matt. He had this massive collection, and he was pretty obsessed. I guess some of it rubbed off on me after all.” The mention of Matt doesn’t bring clouds into her eyes like you expected. She talks about him like she’s looking at something distant but dear.

“Thought you were bailing on me tonight,” Leigh , almost casual but there’s this undercurrent, like she’s really saying she’s glad you didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I got stuck at the clinic longer than expected.” Leaving her waiting, especially today, was never part of the plan. Your work as a vet often means unpredictable hours, but you hadn't expected it to stretch so far into the evening.

“It’s okay, you didn’t miss much.”

Her casual dismissal makes you wonder, but not wanting to pry too much, you shift slightly, asking, “So, how did it go? Did you enjoy yourself at least?”

Leigh simply smiles and shrugs, an action that speaks volumes without giving much away. “This,” she nods down at Logan, “getting him from you, feels more like my birthday than anything else today.”

The conversation that follows is easy, skipping over the day-to-day stuff—nothing deep, but you're both there—really there—and it's nice. It feels like a fresh start, and you're deeply thankful for the second chance she's offering you. You promise yourself you won't mess it up this time.

But just as you’re both delving into more personal topics, someone rings the doorbell. Logan perks up, his head tilted, ears alert. Leigh gives you a look, as if saying she's not expecting anyone else to show up this late at night. She puts the puppy down on the floor and when she opens the door, it’s Danny, looking sorry for himself. He’s holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It seems as though he has the whole evening planned out in his head—apologize, crack open the wine, and maybe be invited to Leigh’s bedroom afterwards.

Danny’s eyes find you and his face falls a bit. He wasn’t expecting company, certainly not you. “Leigh, can we talk?” he asks, then looks pointedly at you. “Alone?”

Leigh looks torn for a moment, glancing your way as if she's not ready to let you out of her sight. She insists it'll just be a minute, but you can read the room. This is something they need to sort out without you playing third wheel.

“It’s all good, I'll head out,” you tell her though you're staring Danny down, making sure he knows it’s not because of him that you’re leaving. Leigh either misses the whole glare-off or decides to stay out of it. Logan tries to follow you as you make for the door. It’s hard leaving him behind, but you know he’ll be happy to have found his forever home. You kneel down, giving Logan a soft kiss on the head, promising him you’ll be back soon. And then you turn to Leigh, a question at the tip of your tongue but she already knows what you’re going to ask.

“You can see Logan anytime,” she says with a faint smile. “I might need your help with him sooner than you think.”

The moment you close the door behind you, Leigh's jaw sets in a firm line, bracing herself to confront Danny. Her main priority is to get Logan settled, so she decides that forgiving Danny might be the quickest way to send him on his way. But Danny’s focus now isn’t on apologies or making it up to her. He’s fixated on Logan, his brows knitting together in confusion and, curiously, a bit of annoyance.

“Who gave you that?” he asks Leigh as if he’s just referring to an inanimate object lying around the house. He sounds like he's almost accusing her of something, and Leigh's baffled.

“A friend gave him to me,” she says, nodding towards the door you've just walked out of. Danny's face twists up in an instant, like a storm cloud bursting. “A friend,” he repeats, and the way he says it, it’s clear he’s not just asking. He’s fuming with jealousy, and Leigh can’t wrap her head around why.

A gift is just a gift, right? Why would…

Oh.

Earlier, while she was reviewing submissions for the advice column, someone asked if giving a puppy as a birthday gift to someone they're interested in would be a good idea. She remembers how she happily encouraged them, telling them to go for it.

At this realization, Danny, the puppy, and everything else slide to the back burner. The only thing occupying her mind now is the deep, dark brown hue of your eyes, like rich espresso.

EspressoEyes. That's how the person behind the submission signed off. It's like a lightbulb moment, but softer—like waking up slow.

It's you.

Oh.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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himezoro · 1 month

Note

Hello!! Could you please do what it would be like to date Luffy?? He's my favorite character and I loved your Zoro headcanons!!

— tysm for requesting !! i've recently came back from my trip and still recovering from my mental breakdown lol, so writing for luffy aka my son is all i need <3 i hope it brings you joy and light ⋆˙⟡♡ i have other requests in my box and i promise to do them all, i won't let you down !!

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ : monkey d luffy's guide to relationship (check out roronoa zoro's guide here and here if you're interested)

dating monkey d luffy would include :

endless, countless and heartfelt laughters. luffy is an outgoing and fun person to be around. he's always having fun on the way of making his dream come true, making each day bright and sunny. he won't be trying that hard to make their s/o laugh, his authenticity, fearlessness and lack of danger estimation would do the trick. but expect him to yell his s/o's name everytime he pulls a prank or tests his flexibility by making funny faces. if his s/o happens to be sad, he would also try his best to cheer them up by first, making them laugh to forget about their worry. when in bed with his s/o, he would let soft and intimate laughs escape his throat when talking to them or listening to their stories. laughing is an intimate and loving act according to luffy's guide.

physical touch. luffy's a sucker for hugs, tender gestures and pdas!! he has no shame hugging his friends like a koala, but with his s/o?? they would barely be able to breath lmao. luffy would sleep with his arms fully wrapped around his s/o's back, with his chin on the top of their head, sometimes, he would sleep on top of them with his whole weight just to show "how much he loves them", or with his head on their lap. anyway, luffy’s s/o is always at arms length thanks to his ability, much to his delight. the boy's clingy, but so adorable and natural about it. however, if their s/o needs some space, luffy would understand, although a bit saddened, so expect him to ask for a hug when they're ready. if their s/o really hates physical touch, it would be difficult for luffy to adjust (he's just a big soft plushie please take care of my baby)

receiving random compliments at random times. luffy's very honest and genuine, and even though he lacks real communication skills, he never lies. therefore, if he sees their s/o with a new outfit and he finds it nice, he will vocalize it in his words. "your coat is brown like a juicy steak, it looks tasty! you should wear it more often", "your hair looks like a cloud this morning", "your eyes sparkle like lasers!!".

him being involved in his s/o's hobbies/occupations. luffy is naturally curious. people often feel like he is pestering and "in the way", which can hurt his feelings, but he is genuinely interested in his friends' activities. he has so much admiration for them. but with his s/o? luffy would not only pester and ask what they're doing, he would also be trying to learn alongside them, with stars in his eyes. if their s/o's a fighter and fighting with a particular weapon or style, luffy would sit quietly and watch for some time, clapping his hands and feet at any random movements from their body, before joining and mimicking. if their s/o was reading or doing anything more intellectual or academic, luffy would sit by them, his arms crossed on the table and his head on top and listen to them talk and tell about what they're learning. if his s/o is patient and pedagogical, he would be so happy and confident enough to ask questions. he will then brag to usopp and chopper about his recent learnings with confidence and pride, saying how "(your name) taught me!!" (he will also turn around to his s/o to check if what he's saying is correct). it is very important for luffy to know what his s/o is doing and what they like, and for them to share their activities together. because on luffy's part, he would include his s/o in every single thing, even on shenanigans with usopp and chopper if they'd like.

hungry kisses and messy makeout sessions. the first kiss with luffy was soft, quick and intimate: a simple peck on the lips. also, at the beginning of the relationship, they were few, as the captain is more of a hugger. however, when his s/o would explain luffy that kisses could involve tongue, dear lord. luffy got insatiable. with his first french kiss, the move of his tongue got so messy he let some drool escape from his lips, trailing out from his s/o's lips. he also accidently bit his s/o's bottom lip so hard it stayed swollen for a couple of days. luffy would take note on his s/o's preferences and always surprise them with that one kiss that would leave them out of breathe and shaky. during make out sessions, not only his tongue would be insatiable, but his hands as well. this boy cannot stand still, he would trail his hands all over his s/o's body, especially the inside of their thighs or their ass. oftenly, after pulling away from his lips, he would look at his s/o's eyes and say "more" before diving in again.

aside from the messy kisses from heated and hungry make outs, luffy's kisses are always spontaneous and playful. he's hanging from the chandelier with his legs around it? he'll grow his head down just he can peck his s/o's lips. his kisses are never calculated or protocolar, they're just like his sweet personality. he would try to kiss you when you eat to "taste your food", claiming that it tasted better.

learning to communicate. luffy is not a complete moron, but his communication skills and social awareness may not be the best. their s/o will have to use patience in order to have a meaningful conversation about their intimate feelings or their relationship in general. luffy is a good listener to his s/o, however, his responses are not always fitting to the matter at hand, sometimes even immature. nevertheless, luffy is a willing person, especially with his s/o. he would try his best providing more fitting responses to his s/o's matters and expressing his needs as well, especially if he feels he has been saddened by their behaviour.

entrusting him and reassuring him. of course, luffy is a confident person, not only in his skills, but also in his dream of being the King of the Pirates. however, if their s/o does not vocalize their trust in his dream, skills or character, luffy would be saddened and pouty. it could trigger his jealousy. he is the captain of a fantastic crew with fantastic people and he feels entrusted with that role, but the one trust and validation he needs is from his s/o. if their s/o compliments him or refer to him as "future King of the Pirates", he would be beaming so hard and brag about it a little.

having a number one fan and devoted partner. luffy loves all of his crewmates and would do anything for them. but his s/o is special. he would always cheer them up, be their cheerleader, talk about them at any given times (a little like tom holland with zendaya lol), protect them from the smallest ant, raise them high. he will always stand for them. if his s/o's in danger, the smallest hint of common sense hidden in his brain gets completely lost and he goes feral. he won't let anything happen to his s/o, before letting anything happen to his dream. his dream is with their s/o: there's no Pirate King with his s/o, no matter what. losing his brother already broke his heart, and he knows losing his s/o will hurt the same, so he does not let anything happen to them. <3

he's the definition of a golden retriever boyfriend, but i feel like he would rather eat from your plate than giving you his lmao. he won't mind sharing with you, but he would enjoy stealing food from your plate.

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanon #headcanons #one piece headcanons #luffy x reader #opla x reader #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy x reader

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morgana-larkin · 1 month

Text

Alright so I saw a prompt from @meowmeowhissss for a jealousy fic and of course I couldn’t resist. The prompt is: It’s a holiday. Melissa takes R to a family function. The schemmenti family loves them. Kristin and R get along very well, which makes Melissa jealous. She’s either jealous because R’s attention should be her or because she misses having a connection with Kristin (your choice 🤷‍♀️). Could end in reassurance or some jealousy smut.

On another note: I’m trying to decide what to do next, your prompts, to start a Marilyn one or continue the next chapter of worth it, hm, maybe I’ll post a poll soon. Like right after I post this lol.

Translations:

Italian:

Tesorino - sweetie

Papera - duck

Dutch:

Oma - grandmother

Red And Green

Warnings: Jealous Mel (when I say red and green, I don’t just mean the colours 😏), oblivious reader, smut, fluff

Words: 5k

It’s Christmas Day and Melissa invited you to her family get together as they keep asking to meet you. You accepted, although confused. You and Melissa are really good friends and have known each other for a year and a half. You were attracted to her from day 1 and it only grew, more so in the past 4 months when she started paying more attention to you.

You put on your red dress that stops mid thigh and it’s a bit flowy from the waist down. It comes with a white belt and you put on your black heeled boots that stops just before the knee. You apply some green eye shadow and red lip gloss. You then hear a knock at your door. You go and answer it and see Melissa standing there. All you see is her black leather pants and her black coat zipped up.

She however got to see your outfit and her brain stopped working for a second. “Wow, you look amazing hon.” She tells you and you blush. “You all ready?” She asks and you nod.

“Let me just grab my coat and purse.” You say and she nods. You go get both and you grab your present for Melissa and for the steal a gift that she said her family is doing. You also grab the cookies you made as a thank you to her family for inviting you.

“You made cookies?” She asks you and you nod.

“My Oma taught me to never show up empty handed when someone invites you to a family party.” You tell her and she smiles.

“My Nonna would have loved you. And would have gotten along with your Oma.” She tells you and you smile and blush.

You get in Melissa’s car and she tells you that you can put your music on if you want. “Do you like Christmas songs?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“Some of them.” She says and you put one on and she looks at you weirdly.

“Really?” She says and rolls her eyes. “Out of all the Christmas songs I thought you were gonna put on, I want a hippopotamus for Christmas was not one of them.” She says and you laugh. Melissa looks at you laughing and singing along and she doesn’t have the heart to change the song. She’d listen to it every year at Christmas if it meant she’d hear your laugh and singing along happily.

“Btw, why did your family invite me?” You ask her when the song ends.

“I don’t know, they told me the details and asked if I could invite you to it.” She says with a shrug. “I thought it was a bit weird too. They’ve never asked me to invite anyone else before. Well they did for Barb once years ago and obviously Joe and Gary.” She tells you and you smile.

“Well I’m very honoured they wanted to invite me. Do you talk about all your co workers to your family?” You ask her.

“The ones that matter.” Is all she says and you blush and look down. Melissa has a feeling for why her mom wanted to invite you. Her mom has only asked to meet someone in her life for two reasons, 1: her mom thinks they’re dating and 2: when she tells her mom she’s dating someone. Her mom wanted to meet Barb thinking her and Barb were dating but said they weren’t and that Barb is happily married to a man with 2 daughters. She’s worried that her mom thinks she’s dating you. Melissa is attracted to you and knows you’re into women but doesn’t know if you’re attracted to her. Melissa has mentioned you but never told her mom she has feelings for you. Although it wouldn’t surprise Melissa if her mom figured it out.

She pulls up at her parents house after 20 minutes of driving. You both get out and you hold your things and wait as Melissa gets her items from the trunk. She grabs a handful of gifts and closes the trunk then goes and walks to the door with you following her. You see about 10 cars parked outside and think that’s the average amount for a family gathering until Melissa speaks up. “Looks like only half my family is already here.” She comments and your jaw drops.

“What do you mean half? How many people are in your family?” You ask and she laughs.

“Have you forgotten I’m Italian?” She says and you sigh.

“It might have slipped my mind that most Italians have big families.” You say.

“Are you ok with big crowds?” She asked and you nod.

“Ya, it just surprised me is all.” You tell her and she knocks on the door. A few seconds later the door opens and an older women that looks like an Melissa with just a couple differences answers and you know right away that she’s Melissa’s mom. She lets you guys enter and Melissa greets her.

“Hey Ma, Merry Christmas!” She tells her and hugs her. How she managed to hug her while holding onto a bunch of gifts without dropping one is beyond you. Her mom then turns to you and smiles.

“Hi, you must be y/n. I’m Teresa, Mel’s mother.” She says to you.

“Yes I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” You say and hold out a hand to shake.

“We hug in this family.” She tells you and holds out her arms and you hug her.

“I brought some cookies.” You tell her.

“Oh aren’t you sweet.” She says and takes the cookies from you. “You didn’t have too.” She adds.

“My Oma taught me to never show up empty handed to a family gathering that I’m invited to.” You tell her and she smiles.

“She’s a good one Mel.” She tells Melissa and her cheeks go red.

“Maa.” Melissa says and her mom just smiles at you.

“I thought I heard the second trouble maker.” A man says and comes out to you guys.

“Hi Pa.” Melissa says and hugs him. “I guess that means the papera is already here.” She adds and Teresa scoffs.

“You and your sister with the insults to each other honestly.” Her mom says and you giggle. “Oh Tesorino, this is y/n.” Her mom says to her husband and points to you.

“Hi, I’m Cosimo. And to brag but it means beauty.” He jokes and flips his short hair that barely moves and you laugh.

“Here let me take your coats.” Teresa says and takes yours and Mel’s coat. When you finally see Melissa’s full outfit, you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. She’s wearing a low cut red shirt with a green sweater. You stare at her long enough for both her parents to notice and smirk at each other.

“Where can we put the gifts?” Melissa asks and her mom leads you both to the living room where most of the people were gathered and you put your gifts under the tree.

“Well well well, look who finally decided to show up.” Someone says and you recognize the voice of Melissa’s sister, Kristen Marie.

“Nice to see you too Kristy.” Melissa says and they hug each other.

“You must be y/n, Melissa mentioned you a few times.” She says to you and you nod.

“Ya I am, nice to meet you.” You say to her.

“Here, let me show you around and introduce you to everyone.” Kristen says to you and you miss Melissa’s glare at her sister. Kristen is unaware of Melissa’s feelings for you and she thinks you’re kinda cute.

“Oh ok, thank you.” You tell her and she leads you around the house and introduces you to people. You wanted to spend time with Melissa but you didn’t want to seem rude.

After about an hour, you meet everyone and saw the whole downstairs of the house. Melissa keeps a close eye on you and her mom comes up to her at some point.

“So when are you going to tell her?” She says to her.

“What?” Melissa says.

“When are you going to tell y/n about your feelings?” Her mom states.

“What makes you think I have feelings for her?” Melissa asks her mom.

“Oh please. It may not be obvious to other people but you’re my daughter. I hear the way you talk about her and how your eyes look when you do. And how you’re now staring holes into your sister’s head since she stole y/n away from you.” She tells her and Melissa sighs.

“I do have feelings for her but we’re friends. And that’s all we’ll ever be.” Melissa tells her mom.

“Cara, why don’t you want to tell her?” She asks her.

“Because I don’t know if you noticed the age gap, and the fact that I don’t have the best luck when it comes to relationships.”

“Mel, I noticed the age gap but that has never stopped anyone in our family before. Your bad luck is only because you wanted different things in life than they did.” Her mom says. “Plus your sister is going for it and she’s only 2 years younger than you.” She adds and Melissa whips her head at her.

“What do you mean she’s going for it?” Melissa asks surprised and her mom smiles.

“Kristen Marie is flirting with her.” She tells her and points to you and Kristen Marie. Her sister has her arm wrapped around your waist and holding you close while talking to a cousin. Melissa crosses her arms and huffs. “If it helps, she’s interested in you as well. But if you don’t make a move, she might actually start to flirt back with Kristen, thinking you’re not interested in her.” Her mom says and then walks back to the kitchen. Melissa walks over to you guys, stands right beside you and joins in on the conversation.

“Hey Melissa!” You say and she smiles at you.

“Hey, you having fun?” She asks you.

“Ya I am, Kristen here has been so nice to show me around and introduce me to everyone. We also have similar interests as well. How come you never introduced me to your sister before?” You ask her and she frowns. She thinks her sister might have won you over.

“Melissa and I have only patched things up 3 years ago.” Kristen says to you. “And I think Mel still forgets she has a sister at times.”

“More like I try to forget but it never happens.” Melissa retorts and you laugh. Just then Teresa announces dinner is ready and everyone scurries to line up at the kitchen. It’s buffet style and then just sit wherever. Kristen pulls you to the line before it gets too long and Melissa tries to keep up but ends up seperated. She watches you and Kristen talking and you laughing at whatever she says and Melissa gets angry.

“You alright cuz?” Someone says to Melissa and snaps her out of her thoughts and she turns around.

“Ya Vinny, I’m fine, why?”

“Because you look like you want to kill your sister. And you guys patched things up a few years ago.” He tells her.

“Like I said, I’m fine.” She tells him with a bite to her voice and Vinny looks unconvinced but doesn’t question it further.

You all managed to eventually get food and sit down in the living room. Kristen continues talking to you and starts to get touchy so Melissa takes action. She walks right up to you both and squeezes in between you both.

“Excuse me.” She says and you and Kristen both have to move over to make room for Melissa.

“What the hell Melissa?” Kristen says and you look confused but don’t think much of it.

“What?”

“You’re impossible sometimes.” Kristen tells her and Melissa just smirks and turns to you.

“Enjoying the food?” She asks and you nod.

“Yes I am. I hope your mom didn’t cook all of it. There was enough for a village in there.” You say and both the sisters laugh. You miss Melissa elbowing her sister in the stomach.

“No, Ma didn’t cook everything. She cooked about half though. Lots of our family volunteers to bring something over. Last year I brought a branzino.” She tells you and Kristen scoffs. “Something you want to say Kristy?” Melissa turns to her sister with a glare.

“Nope.” Kristen says and takes a bite of her food. “Y/n have you ever tried caprese chicken saltimbocca?” Kristen asks you and you shake your head.

“Can’t say I have.”

“Did you get some?” She asks you and both of them look at your plate and sees that you didn’t. Before Melissa could offer some of hers, Kristen beats you to it but offers you a bite off of her fork and you accept it. Melissa looks at interaction and stews. She doesn’t want to have another feud with her sister especially since her sister technically isn’t doing anything wrong. You’re single, beautiful and sweet, the whole package. She can see why her sister is flirting with you.

After dinner, you all have dessert as you do the steal a gift. It has 2 rules, 1: you can’t re-steal a gift back as well as the same gift can’t be stolen more than once in a round and 2: you must wait your turn.

When it’s your turn, you pick a gift and see that it’s a beautiful necklace of a green diamond heart wrapped with silver lining, the green is the same colour as Melissa’s eyes and you love it.

Unfortunately one of her cousin’s steals it from you and Melissa sees your pout and then you go to get a different gift. Melissa is the last person to pick and she’s gonna steal that necklace back for you. You open another gift and see that it’s a bottle of Italian wine and you get a bunch of ‘ooo’s from everyone. And someone says that you’re having bad luck when someone steals it from you and you laugh and agree. You're sitting beside Melissa and she has her arm on your low back the entire time. You talk with Kristen Marie as well who’s sitting on the other side of you.

When it’s Melissa’s turn she immediately goes and steals the necklace from her cousin, the one who stole it from you, got it stolen from her and now Melissa is stealing back for you. She’ll give it to you later tonight. You end up with a hoodie that says “I’m Italian you gaboots” to which you and everyone laughed.

Teresa then goes and hands the gifts under the tree to who it’s for. You end up getting one from Melissa and her parents to which you were surprised. Melissa ends up getting a few gifts as well as her sister and everyone else. You open hers and see that it’s a baseball cap that says the eagles on it that you mentioned you couldn’t afford at the time, when you and her went to a game. You saw that she got a cap but you thought it was for herself and you now saw that she got it for you. You squeal and give her a hug.

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” You tell her and she laughs.

“You’re welcome hon.” She says.

Melissa sees that you got her a gift and she opens it with a smile. She sees that it’s the book she wanted and you must have heard her talking about it and got it for her.

“Omg thanks hon.” She says and hugs you.

“Open it.” You tell her and looks confused.

“To what page?” She asks.

“Any page.” You tell her and she opens it and she immediately tears up. The first letter of each word was highlighted. She flips through it more and it seems like it’s like that for the entire book.

“Omg.” She says and puts her hand over her heart.

“You ok Mel?” Her mom asks and Melissa nods and turns to you.

“Did you get someone to highlight it or did you do it yourself?” She asks.

“I did it myself.” You tell her and she launches herself at you in a hug.

“Omg hon, this is the best gift ever!” She tells you. Her mom looks at the book and sees what you did and she smiles. The fact that you knew of Melissa’s dyslexia, got her a book she wanted and knew what helps her and did it yourself, made her see that you’re the perfect one for Melissa. When most people were done opening their gifts and chatting with people, Melissa turns to you. “Hey hon.” She says and you turn to her.

“Ya Melissa?” She pulls out the necklace from the steal a gift.

“I saw you loved the necklace and decided to steal it for you.” She tells you and your jaw drops.

“You did that for me?” You ask in disbelief and she nods. “Are you sure? I mean I’m sure it would look lovely on you.” You tell her.

“I’m sure but I got enough necklaces for now and it would look better on you. Turn around and lift up your hair.” She tells you and you do. She puts the necklaces on you with a smile. Kristen hears the conversation and sees the interaction between you and figures out why Melissa has been glaring at her all evening. Melissa likes you. She decides right there to amp up the flirting with you to make Melissa jealous. She knows her sister might not make a move otherwise. Her mom sees the interaction as well and sneaks a picture of Melissa putting the necklace on you.

She clips it on and you turn around and face her. “Wow thank you Melissa!” You tell her and stare at the necklace with a smile.

“You’re welcome. I knew it would look good on you.” She says softly and you blush. As a thank you, you kiss her check and then turn around to face Kristen Marie as she taps your arm right away. Melissa is stunned by your action and touches where you kissed her with a blush and smile. Teresa gets a picture of the kiss and Melissa’s reaction.

Before anyone leaves, they all get up to take a bunch of photos. A few of everyone, a few without the partners or guests of people. And then individual ones of the households and everyone’s little families. Melissa got one with her mom, dad and sister and then one with just her sister. She thought she was done and then her mom calls you up again and gets you to take one with Melissa. She takes one with Melissa’s hand wrapped around your waist and tells you to get closer as your ‘besties’. Her words, not yours. Melissa then goes behind you and hugs you from behind and puts her chin on your shoulder and her mom takes a picture and then Melissa sticks her tongue out for the next one to which you laugh and copy her. The photos of other people continue as you two go to sit down.

Kristen Marie grabs your attention right away and Melissa gets annoyed. Kristen Marie has gotten more touchy with you, the more into the night you get. You are wondering why she’s touchy with you and you are starting to like it a bit, you normally don’t get attention like that from people. Kristen Marie puts her hand on your thigh and whispers something to you and that’s when Melissa decides to leave. Other people have already left so she thinks it wouldn’t look weird.

“Hey hon, I’m getting tired so I’m gonna go.” She tells you and you look at her.

“Oh ok, let me get my things and we can go.” You say but Kristen Marie speaks up.

“If you want I can drive you home and you can stay longer.” She offers and you look at her and her hand goes higher up her leg and Melissa sees red.

“Oh um, I’m actually going to hitch a ride with Melissa if that’s ok with you.” You ask her to which she immediately nods.

Melissa and you say your goodbyes to everyone. You thank her parents for inviting you and Teresa hands you your container back, now empty as all the cookies were eaten.

You put your stuff in the car and Melissa starts the drive back to your place. “So you and my sister seem to have gotten along.” She starts and you look at her.

“Ya, she’s really nice, she even gave me her number.” You say and Melissa takes a deep breath to try and control her jealousy.

“That’s because she was hitting on you.” Melissa says bluntly and a bit snippy.

“What? No she wasn’t, she was just being nice.” You tell her and she scoffs.

“Hon, you have got to be the most oblivious person on the planet if you couldn’t tell she was flirting with you.” Melissa tells you and you look at her confused. “I mean she literally had her hand on your thigh.” She says with a bit of anger.

“Well I did think that was a bit weird but didn’t want to seem rude if that’s normal in your family.”

“That’s not normal for us, we’re not that touchy.”

“What?!? But you’re touchy with me too.” You say.

“Ya! Because I’m trying to flirt with you too!” She says annoyed but then she realises what she just admitted and mentally facepalms.

“You’re what?” You ask.

Melissa leans back into the seat and doesn’t bother looking at you or answering your question.

“Melissa, do you like me?” You ask her and she sighs. She then finds a place to pull over safely and then turns to look at you.

“Ok yes I do, I’ve been trying to flirt with you for 4 months ever since I realised I liked you over the summer. But I guess you’re the most oblivious person, I also didn’t want to tell you directly because I was afraid. But I saw how you were with my sister and I got jealous.” She admits and you stare at her with wide eyes and then you smile at her.

“I like you too.” You tell her and she looks shocked at you.

“Do you really?” She asks and you nod. Melissa then cups your cheek and leans in. You lean in as well and you kiss each other. It starts out slow as you learn each other’s mouths and savour it. Then it quickly turns desperate and Melissa deepens the kiss. You let out a moan and Melissa puts her hands all over your hair. You then pull away and look at her face.

“Take me to your place.” You tell her and it takes her a second to process and then she nods and puts the car in drive.

She then drives to her place and you both quickly get out and into her house. Once inside she pushes you against the door as soon as it closes and attacks your lips with hers.

“Wait.” You tell her and she pulls back. “Were you jealous of your sister flirting with me?” You ask her and she looks down and blushes. “Hmm, I knew you were acting a little different. I kinda like it.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Really?”

“Ya, go on and take your jealousy out on me.” You whisper in her ear. And with your permission, she does just that.

She attacks your neck roughly and you gasp and moan. She pins you up on the wall and pulls your dress down to go for your nipples. You bury your hands in her hair and moan. She then pins your hands to the wall and you whine as you’re unable to touch her. “Naughty girls don’t get to touch.” She says with a deep voice and you shiver. “I know you liked the attention you got from my sister.” She adds and you whimper. “Tell me, do you think my sister can get all these sounds out of you?” She asks and you squirm. You then decide to add fuel to the fire.

“She probably could. I mean she knew how to move her hand under my dress.” You say and you see the jealousy practically leaking from her as there was so much.

“So that’s how you’re gonna play it I see.” She says and carries you to her bedroom. “I see you want to be fucked roughly tonight, treated like the slut you are.” She tells you once she sets you down on her bed. She unbuckles your belt and flings it off you, then rips your dress off. She unclips your bra and sends it flying then attacks your nipples and she moans. She pulls you up more onto the bed and climbs on top of you. She slides your underwear and then looks at you bare under her. She then gets up and goes to her closet and brings a box over. She then oh so casually, takes out some cuffs and ties you to the bed.

“What?” But I haven’t touched you yet!” You exclaim and she smirks.

“Like I said, naughty girls don’t get to touch.” She says then she takes her sweater and shirt off and you drool at the sight of her chest on display like that. She then straddles your lap and takes her bra off and you stare at them. She then puts her hands on her boobs and touches herself while all you can do is watch and struggle against the cuffs. “Hmm oh I bet you’d love to touch me like this.” She teases and she moans. You whimper and she grinds against you a bit. She then gets up and takes her pants and underwear off. She then get a vibrator out, turns it on and instructs you to close your legs, she then puts it on your clit and tells you to keep it there. She then goes and slowly puts a strap on while she watches you squirm. She knows your close and she wonders if she should edge you or make you come many times. She decides to edge you and tells you not to come. You squirm even more and she enjoying watching you struggle.

She then ups the speed on the vibrator and you arch your back and try to keep the vibrator in place like she told you too. She then turns it off when she knows you can’t hold on too much longer and removes it from you. You whine as you were very close but then she gets in between your legs and starts licking you. You moan at the feeling of her hot wet tongue and mouth on you where you need her the most. She then goes for your clit and you gasp. She roughy licks and sucks on it for a couple minutes until you were just about to come and she pulls back. She waits a few seconds for you to calm down and then she sticks her fingers in you and fingers you. About half a minute she curls her fingers inside you and it hits your g-spot. You have your legs spread nice and open for her and you’re close again. She then pulls out when your close and you whimper.

“Mel please, I need to come.” You say with a pout and she chuckles.

“You don’t get to come until I say so.” She tells you and you realise she’s edging you. She then lines the dildo up with your entrance and she shoves it in. You scream out and she gives you a second to adjust. She then goes and starts pounding it into you and she rubs your clit. Melissa comes about a minute later but doesn’t tell you, she wants to know how much more you can take. “Hold it in you slut.” She says and you whimper. She then pulls out at the last second and you whine and whimper. She takes the strap off and goes and sits on your face. You take a few licks and she moans out. She then pushes the vibrator to your clit and turns it on to the max. “When you make me come then you can.” She says to you and you squirm the entire time as you hold in the orgasm she’s been denying you all night. And then finally she comes and it drips all over your chin and lips and then you come with a scream as it hits you hard due to the intense build up.

She then releases you from the cuffs and she goes to get a cloth. She makes sure to not touch your clit but cleaning you up and then cleans herself up. She throws the cloth on the ground next to the strap and lays down beside you.

“Are you ok?” She asks you as you cuddle into her and place your hand on her boob.

“Ya, when I told you to take your jealousy out on me, you really went all in.” You say surprised and with a smile.

“It wasn’t too much?” She asks and you shake your head.

“It was perfect. The only complaint is that I couldn’t touch these magnificent breasts.” You tell her and squeeze them. She giggles and then goes on her back to let you touch her all you want. “You don’t have to worry btw. I’ve only had eyes for you and no one else.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Good, because I want you and don’t want anyone else to touch you.” She says as she strokes your cheek and you lean into her touch.

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