#I can hear your through the phone cackling
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lostinwonderlandx0x · 2 months ago
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Hey, this is crazy, but you actually look a lot like my partner???
You dumb bitch why tf would you get on the internet and say this. If I was mad I would just post a naked picture under this of myself and get this post removed from the internet
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ddejavvu · 24 days ago
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Helloo!! Sooo I have a picture of mgg as my lock screen but his face isn’t in the picture and I was wonderinggg if you could write about the girls at the bau seeing your background of your phone and it’s some guy but they don’t know it’s spencer and they ask all these questions about this mysterious secret boyfriend you have and asking to meet him and r is just like maybeeee idk knowing that they have in fact met him and maybe spencer is near by and hearing all this and is just all shy and flustered. If you do write this THANK YOUUU you’re writing it phenomenal, one of a kind, it’s so good!!! <333
"Woah, hubba hubba," JJ's eyes bug out at your phone screen, and Emily, forever on JJ's wavelength, snatches it out of your hands before you can properly dim the screen.
"Who is that?" Emily asks everyone's burning question, and one of Penelope's hands squeezes yours, with nails, to emphasize her urgency.
Your lock screen is a picture of Spencer's bare chest clad only in a blazer, the front open in a lewd V that showcases the dark pink kiss marks you'd spread across the smattering of wiry curls he's grown. It's not something you'd meant to flash your coworkers with, and Spencer chokes on his water while Derek hoots and hollers at it.
"There are some things that should be kept private," Rossi drawls, eyes wide and haunted as he stands, "I'm going to get Aaron and myself another refill, just in case any worse pictures get shown around the table."
Hotch laughs at the older man, amusement lining his features handsomely as the group continues to tease you.
"So, when are you bringing this guy around? Not that we'd recognize him anyways, unless he showed up shirtless with lipstick all over him."
"Derek, you-" You barely stop yourself from saying, 'you have met him', instead swerving into an easy insult, "You're the last person I want to introduce him to. You'll never let us live this down."
"None of us will." Prentiss promises, her grin wolfish, "You'll be lucky if Garcia doesn't manage to track him down using nipple-recognition software."
Your technical analyst cackles into her drink, and Spencer makes a hasty getaway.
"I need the bathroom," He paws with burning cheeks at Derek's leg, ushering the man out of his way so that he can speed-walk to the bathroom. You watch him go, hearing Hotch let out a rare laugh at his urgency.
"Poor Spence," JJ croons, "Did you see how red his face was?"
"That kid's almost thirty and I bet he can't even say the word 'sex' without blushing." Derek scoffs.
"He can't. I've seen it." Garcia confirms, "It's pathetic."
"Pathetic," You snort, but what your team hears as agreement, you mean as contradiction. Spencer was nothing close to pathetic that night- sweet and tender, yes, but pathetic, no. He'd cupped your face while you'd spread a smattering of sticky kisses across his chest, and he'd stared into your eyes when you'd taken the picture, a smile on his face even though he'd known his grin wouldn't be in frame.
"Well get all of it out now," Hotch advises, a teasing tone in his voice, "Spencer won't come back if we're still talking about it."
"I'm happy for you." Dave states, setting his and Aaron's drinks down, "But so help me, Y/N, if I ever see your boyfriend's naked torso again, I'll kill myself."
You refrain from telling Rossi he had just seen your boyfriend's bare torso, last week when Spencer had needed to be stripped of his cold, wet clothes, and thrust into a heated blanket for warmth. No one had batted an eye at his brief nudity, and neither had you, because you'd memorized every inch of his skin. You didn't need to ogle him; you could recall his body from memory.
"I'll keep that in mind." You nod at Rossi sagely, "Just don't go through the rest of my camera roll." You see Spencer exit the bathroom, peering cautiously at your table to see if he can predict the conversation before returning, "Or you'll find a lot worse than his chest."
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beloveds-embrace · 1 month ago
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John raises an eyebrow, and without lifting his eyes off his newspaper, he sighs.
"Alright, I'm done. Love, what's on my face?"
Your giggle is a soft, mischievous sound. One he is, (un)fortunately, all too familiar with. For the past hour, all you've done is look between him and your phone in almost regular intervals, laughing quietly to yourself.
"It's nothing serious, honey-"
And yet when he sets the newspaper down to glance at you, you only grin at him. "....Can you do something for me, John honey? It's very easy, I promise!"
John merely narrows his eyes a little, wary yet intrigued; a feeling that has become regular to him ever since you barrelled into his life. "You make me scared, doll-"
"It's harmless, I swear!" You sit up, eyes bright and eager. Waving your phone in your hand, you peer at him. "All you gotta do is give me one of your smiles. See? Very easy, just like I said."
He does as you ask, not at all surprised to hear the click of your camera. The delighted gasp is surprising, though.
John can't stop himself anymore; he leaps on top of you, quickly stealing your phone while you break out into laughter. "Wai- wait, John, honey, no-"
John is grinning, swiping through your phone and photos. First one is the picture you just took of him, smiling, and the one after that...
"You look exactly the same!" You cackle, latching on to John. He is so done with you- in a very exasperated, fond manner "You look exactly like a quokka!"
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jaewritesfic · 2 months ago
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Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 9
Part 8
“Nothing? At all?”
“Nothing, Red,” Barbara's voice repeats through the speakers of the Batcomputer, sounding irritated at this point.
“But- I mean, did you try-”
“She's going to come to the cave and shove a Batarang up your ass if you ask her one more time whether she missed something, Replacement,” Jason drawls off to the side. He's reclining in a chair, feet kicked up on a weapons table.
Tim groans. “I know, I know. I'm sorry.”
He's back in the Cave, and so is pretty much everyone else. Turns out he'd caused something of a panic, and it was all hands on deck for a hot second.
When the engineer had density shifted out of his grasp and heckled him from some nebulous spot midair, it had taken only a few seconds afterwards for Tim’s comms to explode with noise.
Turns out nobody had been able to hear anything from him except a constant low static from shortly before the encounter until after it ended, and his mask camera was borked the whole time too.
Understandably, there was some alarm about that. Bruce had ordered everyone back to the cave for a full explanation and conversation on what the hell happened.
“Sit down and tell us what happened, baby bird. You're gonna wear a hole in the floor at this rate,” Dick tells him, a gentle hand on his shoulder nudging him towards a seat.
Tim groans and throws himself into it like a puppet with his strings cut.
“Well he's definitely a meta,” he grumbles. “I never actually laid eyes on him. Wouldn't have even known he was there if he hadn't gotten ghost busted.”
“Ghost busted?” Jason asks, eyebrows raised. Tim huffs out a reluctant laugh, because in retrospect that part was pretty funny.
“His fucking phone went off. All of a sudden the empty air next to me was blasting the Ghostbusters theme song and an invisible man was swearing like a sailor until it cut out.”
Stephanie blows a raspberry in the start of a laughing fit, and suddenly the whole cave is echoing with mirth. It lifts Tim's spirits a little, makes him laugh too.
He means, come on. That has to be the new record for the funniest botched stealth mission, a position previously held by Damian when a stray dog outed him because it smelled the treats he keeps in his utility belt.
The shade of red the demon brat's face was when he had to explain why the mission went sideways was fucking glorious.
“So you've confirmed that we're dealing with a male meta?”
Speaking of the brat.
“Sounded male, and he at least has invisibility and density shifting,” Tim confirms.
“Density shifting?” Bruce prompts.
“Yeah. After the phone went off I couldn't see him but I was trying to figure out where he was. Then the lockbox disappeared too - he can transfer the invisibility through touch, apparently.”
“Huh. Haven't seen that before,” Duke comments.
“Me neither. But I made an educated guess at where I thought he was and grabbed his arm. Had a damn good grip, and then he just…went through me. Like I literally felt something pass through my hand all cold and tingly and suddenly I wasn't holding anything anymore.”
Jason snorts. “Bet that was a kick in the nuts, huh.”
“Come on, Little Wing,” Dick scolds half heartedly. “Be nice.”
Jason rolls his eyes.
“You said ‘at least’,” Bruce says, brow furrowed. “You suspect he has other powers too?”
Tim purses his lips. “I can't be sure, considering I couldn't see him, but…I think he probably has flight too.”
“Flight?” Dick says, furrowing his brow. He crosses his arms and shakes his head, looking both thoughtful and troubled. “No, that's not possible.”
Tim blinks. “What? Why not?”
Dick ‘Be Nice, Little Wing’ Grayson looks him dead in the eyes and says, “Because according to all known laws of aviation-”
“You-!”
The cave is filled with laughter again, Jason throwing his head back and cackling in a way that's particularly irksome. Tim reaches over and shoves at his boots while he's tipping his chair back and sends him toppling to the floor.
Jason flails and fails to save himself, rolling back to his feet and spitting curses with a hint of green to his eyes. Tim freezes at the sight of it.
It's not that he's scared. He and Jason have come a long way, and everyone knows by now what amount of green is actually dangerous. Jason's nowhere near actually losing it right now, he's just annoyed.
What makes Tim freeze is-
“He's been exposed to the Pits.”
Everyone pauses, confused. Jason blinks at him. “Uh…yeah, fucking duh?”
“No,” Tim shakes his head. “No, not you. The Engineer.”
Suddenly there's no laughter anymore. Everyone has gone tense and alarmed.
“Tim?” Bruce prompts lowly.
“I did see part of him,” Tim murmurs lowly, realizing it himself for the first time. “When I grabbed him, there were two bright lights for a second or two before they faded. God, I should have realized- it was his eyes. Like Christmas lights, bright Lazarus green."
Masterpost
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soobnny · 1 year ago
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one more month — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan missing you while he’s on tour. (0.6k words)
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“Chan?”
It’s 11pm for you when he calls from his hotel room, somewhere oceans away. There’s still sleep dripping from your tone, and he can almost hear the rustling of sheets from your end.
“Sorry baby, did I wake you?” Chan speaks so quietly it’s almost a whisper. He was careful not to shake you out of your silence.
“Mmm, no.” You croak out.
He knows you’re lying, could almost picture you jolting from your sleep at the familiar buzz of your ringtone. The thought makes him swallow, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.
“Is there a reason why you’re calling?”
He pauses before answering. Chan has no idea how the fuck he’s feeling right now, but he knows he misses you.
It’s been 4 months since he last saw you. All he has are pictures of you in his phone, and occasional phone calls that will never suffice to the way you sound in person. To the way you feel in person.
Chan stares out the big fucking window from where they’re staying, finding comfort in the thought that you might be looking at the same moon.
He swallows again. “Does there have to be a reason?”
“Of course not.”
“Just miss you.” He breathes out slowly, head tilted on the glass windows. “And I wish— we didn’t have to be so far away all the time.”
He’s thinking of you, imagining how you look right now with tired eyes. He’s thinking of what it would be like if he was there right now. You’d probably be asleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs. It would look uncomfortable from an outsider’s eye, but he knows. Knows how it feels to have your heartbeat pressed against his and how nice it feels.
You sigh. “One more month.”
The tone in your voice is gentle, yet knowing. He knows you miss him too.
“For now, you need to sleep, no?”
It’s 3 in the morning for him, and he’ll have to be awake again in three hours.
“Can’t.” He bites his lip, swallowing hard as he tries to fight the sob brewing in his throat. Your heart clenches at the way he sounds, knows that when he feels, he lets it take over him.
“Will you be able to sleep if I stay on the phone?”
“Maybe.” Shaky.
“Okay. Have the kids been treating you well?”
A smile pulls at his lips at the mention of his best friends, and the topic change does a good job at masking the nauseating pain of missing you. A bandaid. A temporary fix.
“Still loud and stubborn, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”
“Hmmm, I won’t be surprised if you come home with a head of white hair.”
He laughs at the thought, running a hand through his hair. “I think I’m already starting.”
“Then Seungmin calling you an old man is justifiable, then?”
“I don’t think I like you teaming up with the boys against me. You’ve signed up on my team the moment you said yes to being mine.”
You laugh from your end, and Chan’s heart flutters at the sound. He can almost see you with your crescent eyes and the cute scrunch on your nose, the one you do when you cackle.
He tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to picture himself right there with you. He knows it’d only rip the bandaid he’d desperately plastered on himself.
“Not sleepy yet?”
“Just a little.” He admits quietly, a yawn escaping his mouth.
There’s stifling from his end, and you can only assume he’s slipped himself back into the covers of his bed.
You keep telling him stories, no matter how menial, anything to keep him company. You know he just needs to hear your voice, has told you before how simply hearing you comforts him—it’s a calm only you can offer.
Chan breathes in and out slowly.
It’s four in the morning now, and there’s quiet snoring in the background.
“Goodnight Channie. One more month.”
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soonyoungs · 4 months ago
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[12:24 pm] - dokyeom
“hello,” he answers your call. his soft greeting is countered with the sound of your small sniffles. “baby,” he asks, voice shrouded in concern “hey, are you crying, what’s wrong” panic begins to set in as he rapid fires question after question only taking a short break to catch his breath. 
you use his pause to your advantage “kyeom,” your voice is small, weaker than he’s ever heard “i’ll be okay, just needed to hear your voice,” you reassure, voice wavering with each passing word “promise m’okay”.
dokyeom knows you well enough to understand that you’re not “okay”, but will talk about it on your terms and when you’re ready. “i’m here,” he’s silent for a while, letting his words sink in “i mean it, whatever you need consider it yours. need me to listen? my ears are yours. want me to come get you? i’m already halfway there. want something for dinner? i’m already in the kitchen,” he pauses before correcting himself “well… i’m already in the kitchen ordering your favorite takeout.” there’s a snort that can be heard through the receiver, no amount of muffling could hide it. dokyeom starts cackling, belly starting to hurt out of pure joy “there you are,” he manages between laughter “feeling a bit better now?” he asks, concern still dripping from his words.
“love you,” you sigh through the phone “i was just having a bad day,” you begin to slowly open up “my anxiety has been awful and all i wanted to do was hold your hand but i can’t just leave work to see you. hearing your voice when you answered the phone just pushed me over the edge,” you admit.
dokyeom hums in understanding. “i see,” you can hear the mischief in his words “i think you coming here to see me is a good enough reason to leave work, yup” he chuckles softly before turning serious “whenever you need me, im here for you, always”
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axeoverblade · 1 year ago
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THIS WITH MILES AND RIO OMG
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8e2jNJ6/
Can she come over?
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Miles(s) Morales x fem! Reader
Synopsis! After seeing a Tiktok on your for you page, you persuaded your boyfriend to do it with you.
MASTERLIST
Genre: Fluff, pre established relationship, slight age up so it makes sense that they’re in a car
Warnings: none!
Word count: .8k
Authors comment: This was so cute and fun to write, hopefully this was what you were asking. Didn’t know which Miles you wanted so suprise it’s both! Small blurbs. Enjoy <3
Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade
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EARTH 1610!MILES
“Baby no I’m not doing that!” Miles whined. “Cmon!! It’s just a little jokey-joke!” You lightly pushed his shoulder, trying to persuade him for the umpteenth time. He looked at you and sighed, finally caving in, “you're so lucky I love you”. Giggling, you urged him to call his mom quicker, setting up your camera on the dashboard of the car to record.
“I’m blaming this on you” he said, phone ringing as he looked at you. “I’m willing to accept the consequences” you smiled.
“Yes hijo?” His mother said, you smiled wider, covering your mouth with your hand. “Hola mami” “Do u need something? Oh! Can you tell y/n she left her pajamas so I washed em’ for her.” “oh uh,” he looked at you, “I’m not with her, when I see her I’ll say something. What are you doing right now?” “Mmm nothing worth talking about, por que? Is something wrong?” She asked, becoming more concerned towards the end of her sentence. “Nah nothin’s wrong” Miles paused, “can I bring a girl over?” He winced, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Que? I thought you said you weren’t with y/n? You don’t have to ask to bring her over anymore-” “uh actually it’s not her”
The phone went silent, “….eh?”, you stifled a laugh, looking at miles who was holding in a laugh himself. “It’s not her mami, ‘s another girl.” “So, what I’m hearing is,” she paused, taking a moment to process, “you want some random girl over that’s not y/n? Why?” “Oh well you know, I’m hanging out with her right now and she wants to come over” “does y/n know about this?” “Uhm nah, this girl is kinda..” Miles trailed off, insinuating he was hiding her from you. “Miles te lo juro que te asesinaré con mis propias manos.” you couldn’t hold it in anymore, throwing your head back as you cackled. Miles' eyes widened at your break of character as he laughed too, quickly muting himself, “You think this is funny Miles? Was that her laughing?” Rio yelled quickly, had you not been used to her voice you wouldn’t have understood what she said with how fast the words left her mouth. Miles unmuted himself, knowing if he didn’t stop the prank now he would get in serious trouble. “Cálmate mami, we’re kidding it’s a joke!”
“Hi Mrs.Morales!” You choked out through a laugh. “Ay-Y/n is that you?” “Yes ma’am” you giggled. Rio mumbled something under her breath, “you two play too much. I’ll see you both for dinner, don't be late.” With that she hung up. You looked at Miles who was shaking his head at you, “mi princesa, you’re gonna get me killed.” You giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, grabbing your phone off the dashboard and stopping the recording, “maybe thats my goal.”.
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EARTH 42!MILES
“Baby Im not doing it, do you know how pissed she’s gonna be?” He looked at you skeptically. You set up your camera on the dashboard, pressing record. “Cmon querido it’s for memories” he sighed looking at your pleading expression. He rolled his eyes, “you owe me” you smiled wide, happy he finally agreed after a hefty amount of convincing. He dialed his mother, staring at you while it rang.
“Yes Hijo?” Ríos voice spoke through the phone speaker. “Hola mama, whatchu’ doin’?” “Uhm I’m on a five minutó break at the hospital, por que?” “Uhh nothin much, so I’m wit’ a girl n’ she wants to come over to the house, I was just letting you know-” “eh? Where's y/n? Is she already there or something?” You smiled. “Uh nah, just me n’ the girl.” “…Dónde está y/n?” “Uh” he looked at you for a split second, “I don’t know.” “Does she know this girl is coming over?” “Nah and I’m keeping it that way” Miles said, hinting something was going on with this mystery girl. “Miles, tu traes esa nena a casa y te lo juro.", you covered your mouth holding in a laugh, looking at Miles. He shook his head, “well I mean she’s kinda already with me,” “Is her name y/n” “que? no i just said it’s not y/n-” “then she can’t come over. I see you with another girl near our property and it’s not ending well for either of you, comprende?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer, letting out the laugh you had been keeping.
“Ella se acaba de reír de? Miles Morales-" “Mama we kid’, y/n is wit’ me. it’s a joke” he quickly cut her off before she could begin her rant. “Sorry Mrs.Morales” you said through a fit of giggles. “Cariño don’t do that, you had me worried.” She spoke to you through the phone.“Sorry mama” you replied using the nickname developed for Rio throughout your relationship with Miles. She clicked her teeth, “I’m gonna tell your ma on you little girl, eres malo.”. You let out a small laugh and apologized, saying your goodbyes so she could get back to work. You grabbed your phone off the dashboard stopping the recording, giving Miles a quick kiss on the cheek. “So about what you owe me” he said looking at you suggestively. You laughed, “you’re gross”
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©axeoverblade
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gotta-winwin · 10 days ago
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OT13 Reaction -- when you're injured
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SCOUPS:
he's speeding you to the hospital no matter how small the injury is. will lowkey make a big deal out of something as tiny as a cut. scolds you for not telling him sooner and for putting yourself in harms way. coddles you once you're home, refusing to let you touch a single piece of housework. he'll mother hen over you for at least a couple days before he accepts you're ready to be independent once again.
JEONGHAN:
laughs. (im so sorry) he will 100% start cackling first before he asks if you're okay. makes fun of you as he takes care of you and reenacts the moment for your viewing pleasure. scolds you for being so clumsy and will baby you as you recover.
JOSHUA:
the type of immediately jump into action. the moment you cry out in pain or he sees you falling, he's by your side as if he's teleported. holds you as he checks your injury, fussing over it and asking if you need to go to the hospital. will take you anyways even if you say no. holds your hand the whole time. tells you to be more careful cause he doesn't like seeing you in any sort of pain.
JUN:
if it's a particularly funny way you injury yourself, he'll eat that shit up. is too busy laughing to check if you're okay until you start crying and he'll be like oh shit it's real okay let me lock in. extra attentive once he realizes its serious.
HOSHI:
the type to let out a loud scream when he sees you go down with an injury - you'd think he was the one in pain. he wants to help, he swears - but he's just as lost as you are. the only thing he knows is to take you to the hospital for professionals to help you since he can't.
WONWOO:
is immediately playing doctor with the random bits of knowledge he's gained on the medical side of tiktok (why he's on the medical side of tiktok idk). he's meticulous and precise with it, taking care of you like it's his profession. will crack a few jokes (albeit quite poor jokes) to try and cheer you up. reads to you as you try to fall asleep, his attempt at distracting you from the pain.
WOOZI:
realistically, woozi hears about your injury over the phone. he's at work in his studio cooking up another massive banger, and isn't fazed when he picks up your call. you tend to call him at least twice to make sure he's eating anyways. worried when you tell him what happened and asks if you need him there with you. either way, he's packing up to leave asap, no longer in the mindset to work knowing you're in pain.
MINGHAO:
if your injury was your own fault, he'll look at you like: (¬_¬") he's sighing at your clumsiness and you can hear the disappointment as he tends to your injury, all the while nagging about how you've got to be more careful. calls his mom to ask which herbal medicine will fix you faster - jokingly comes back with ginseng tea, telling you its to fix your clumsy ass brain.
DK:
screeches when he sees you drop. gags at the sight of blood. he approaches you slowly, hands shaking to check if you're okay. he's inwardly very panicked and lowkey not hiding it well. this wasn't in the boyfriend handbook! he's ready to be there for you though, cheering you up with funny anecdotes about him and the boys, doing his best to make you laugh through the pain. he will do anything you need him to during recovery -- just far from blood and anything icky that might come with it.
MINGYU:
lowkey probably the cause of the injury (sorry gyu stans, yk i'm right tho) he apologizes profusely, stating that he is 'just a clumsy big boy' and cannot help that he just has a rougher hand with things. makes it up to you with snacks, cooking and cuddles. allows you to use this incident against him till the end of time, although he gets sulky every time you bring it up.
SEUNGKWAN:
complains that he's got to take care of you but does it lovingly anyways. "i'm doing this cause i love you. you're lucky i love you or i would've left you suffering ages ago." gives you that signature seungkwan side eye if the injury was your fault. chides you to be more careful.
VERNON:
his first instinct is to ease the pain with bad jokes. will ask you if you'd wanted it to happen 'is this the result you wanted, baby?' and will quickly stfu when you glare at him. follows your orders on how to take care of you cause he's lowkey very lost. puts on a movie once everything is done to help you relax and to take your mind off the pain.
DINO:
ya'll 100% were doing something stupid and got injured together. dino has that 'you say jump, i say how high' energy, and you're definitely both in pain because one of you was doing something for jokes and the other joined for fun. takes care of you while complaining about his own pain. is a big baby when its your turn to take care of him. tells you to never bring this up to his hyungs or else he will never hear the end of it.
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klintoris · 8 months ago
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Jschlatt x Fem!Reader Smut
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When I started streaming, I never thought it would get me to where I am today. That's how everyone thinks, no one truly fathoms the huge increase in followers when collaborating with a huge streamer. 
For me it was Jschlatt. 
-
“YOU LITTLE FUCKING SHIT”  Schlatt screamed over the call after I just murdered him in Minecraft again, stealing all of his things. “My bad” I cackle over the line, “toots’ you are so fucking lucky you live in another state” he threatens, “fuck does that mean???? Are you threatening me, big man?? I will clobber you.”, I hold my streaming camera and stare directly into it. there's a small silence before he speaks up, “Don't, don't look at me like that”, “Like what?” still making direct eye contact with the camera, “I’m-”. I cut him off “Anyway, while you weren't looking I blew up your dog.” I pull away from the camera. 
Eventually after multiple matches of bickering, I grabbed my suitcase and made my way to the airport. 
-
Schlatt was streaming, as planned. Ted was visiting and knew about my drop-in. 
I pull up to the house in the Uber, getting anxious I look at my phone, I have the stream pulled up to see what the boys are up to. I get out, and standing near the door I message Ted that I am here, I watch as he tells Schlatt he's going to the bathroom. Soon Ted comes and lets me in. “ok so, I'm going to go back up and in like 5-10 minutes come into the room”, I nod, setting my suitcase near the door, along with my bag. Ted closes the door behind me and walks up the stairs, I follow him up through the hallway near the door of Schlatts streaming room. Ted walks in and closes the door behind him, assuming to keep jambo and soup out. Contemplating my entrance, the 10-minute mark hits and I open the door without my body in the doorway, schlatt and Ted both turn slowly to look at the door open. I walk into the doorway, as schlatt sees me and he turns to Ted speechless, “No fucking way”. he gets out of his chair, flinging it to the floor and throwing his hands on his head. “Hey, monkey man!!” I gloat and open my arms for a hug, “no no no how did you get here,” he says, obviously joking. “A plane, how else,” I say bringing my arms down, “aren't you excited??” I look at him, and he sighs “Only a little” he cracks a small smile. 
-
“Alrighty big man, I gotta head out,” I say after we've been streaming for over 3-4 hours.
“What? Where are you going??” he questions me after ending the stream, I stretch “To my hotel?” I question his antics, “why not stay here? Why waste the money?” he says to me as he stares at my exhausted state.  “Schlatt you don't have a spare room, ted isn't even staying here” I stare at him in confusion glancing at Ted, “Sleepover!” Ted says from the hallway as he prepares to leave for his hotel. Schlatt looks at Ted and then me raising his eyebrows, “You're funny schlatt but where the hell would I sleep?” I cross my arms looking down at Schlatt in his rolly chair, “I have a bed, I can sleep on the floor like a gentleman”, “That's silly I wouldn't make you sleep on the floor in your own house.” I stare closely trying to see his reaction. “Well” he pauses for a second, I can hear Ted stop moving to listen intently, “we could always share a bed, it's a king so we have our own postal codes almost” he grins leaning back with his hands behind his head. I internally scream, I find Schlatt very attractive but to sleep in the same bed would probably kill me. I stare, thinking,  if I ever have a chance it would be now, “finnee” I cave. “there that's my girl!” he squeals like a little school girl, almost making me forget what he said. “Alrighty kids'm off” Ted speaking up from the doorway in a sing-songy voice pulls me away from my thoughts. “awwhh bye Uncle Ted,” I say hugging him, Schlatt gets up from his chair and says his goodbyes and looks at me “Okay where’ your bags?” schlatt turns to me, the doors shut downstairs as ted leaves, “by the door but I can get them its fine”. “Alright if you insist on lugging a suitcase up the stairs, knowing you it's probably heavy too, be my guest.” I sigh, “Fine, Mr. Schlatt, could you please carry my bags up to your room for me pretty please” I blink rapidly looking up at the tall man with my hands clasped as I swayed, “perhaps.”.
-
Crawling into the bed after doing all of my nightly routines, it's rather fucking cold. I shiver as I regret the choice of clothing, shorts and a t-shirt, only if I knew schlatt kept his room at arctic level cold. “Everything alright toots’?” he looks at me, realizing he's wearing the grey sweatpants girls fawn over, I groan “Nothin’”, he shrugs and climbs under the covers far away from me. I shiver as my teeth start to clatter, almost nothing is helping, not even Schlatts thick blankets. “You sure you’re alright?” he asks from across the bed,  “Why is it so cold in here?” he chuckles as I feel the bed shift, as the bed creaks I feel schlatt pull me up against him, “there you can be warm now,” he says sliding a hand around my waist. Almost on cue, a shiver ran up my spine and my ass pushed into his dick, I froze in position after hearing him grunt. “what was that?” he says in a low voice, “not a clue” I manage to let out trying to sound as if I don't have a massive lady boner right now.
I try to shift to get comfortable, along with try not to push into him again, I graze his cock again. He holds my hips, “If you keep doing that I swear” Wanting to push his limit I speak out without thinking, “You will do what?”, there's a pause before I grind intentionally this time against him. He groans, he slides his hand from my hips to lower, his hand above my pussy, I breathe heavily anticipating his next move. He glides his hand down again cupping my clothed heat, I breathe in, sucking all the air in my lungs. Schlatt puts his head in the crook of my neck, he proceeds to start kissing and nipping at my neck slowly as he starts to practically massage my clothed pussy. I moan out, still lying on my side I turn to face schlatt, staring at him I look at his lips as he does the same. We pull each other into a heated kiss. He moves his hand from in between my thighs and gets on top of me. He lays in between my thighs, grabbing at my chest as his big hands roam around my body almost claiming it. I groan into the kiss as I feel his cock grind up against my covered pussy, schlatt notices this and grinds into me more, still gripping my chest.
He moves his lips from mine to my neck again, his mutton chops tickling at my neck as he sucks and bites at my sensitive area. “Fuck schlatt, please” I plead, not even sure of what I'm asking for.
“What is it princess?” he pulls away from my neck to look at me, “you want me to fuck that pussy of yours? Hm?” he taunts almost pouting at my state. Nodding eagerly he speaks up, “Use your words, what happened to that loud mouth of yours?”, “Please, please fuck, fuck me schlatt”. “That's it” he bellows as leans back as he practically rips my shorts down my legs, seeing the wet spot on my pink lace panties he teases me, not just with his words but his finger, grazing the spot as he says “she’s practically drooling for me, huh toots’”. I try to squirm away from him toying with my bud, but he grabs my hips and slowly hooks his finger on my panties pulling the skimpy article to the side leaning down and giving it a long lick.
He pulls away licking his lips, “She tastes almost as pretty as she looks” I moan in response, wanting to beg again he pulls his shirt over his head. I revel in the patch of chest hair before looking at his hands pulling his sweats off, I inhale sharply before he leans back down to kiss me, taking my shirt off during the kiss he breaks to look at my tits. “Fuck princess why were you hiding these from me”, schlatt starts to lick and suck at my right nipple while kneading the other tit, attempting to give them equal attention. At this point, I love the foreplay, though, the anticipation is killing me. I whine at the contact, “Please schlatt” I beckon pulling at his hair, he pulls away from my tits, “Fine fine”. Schlatt pulls back, taking my panties off he throws them somewhere behind him, attempting to close my legs he slaps them open. Schlatt takes his boxers off, and as his cock hits his stomach, the fear of god strikes me. It would be assumed schlatt would have a huge dick but I feel like ill be the next Mr. Hands. Schlatt resumes his position in between my thighs, moving his hands from beside my waist to guide his cock to my entrance, teasing it slowly before sticking the tip in. “shit, you're already so tight”, I moan a little in pain at the expected stretch, eager for him to put all of his cock in I buck my hips, he grabs my hips, almost enough to bruise them.
“M’ tryin' to hold back toots’ you aren't helping my case” he grumbles, “What if I do not want you to hold back?” I say not even thinking, he looks back and forth between both of my eyes for a second before shoving his whole cock in. I gasp at the stretch, and he begins to thrust at a normal pace, “f fuck schlatt” I suck in through my teeth before throwing my head back, “more please” I bring my head back looking at him. He's so focused on my reactions to him that he doesn't comprehend what I say until he pulls all the way back out and slams back in, his balls hitting the back of my ass hard.
“Holy shit,” he says before grabbing at my hips, leaning back on his feet he uses the fat from my hips to yank my body back onto his cock. “Oh my god”, I say clawing at his hands holding my hips, “he can't help you right now princess” he states after chuckling and then groaning. Schlatt slaps at my tits before grabbing at my neck, now using it as leverage along with my hip still, slamming me onto his cock.
As he pounds into me he makes eye contact with me before reaching down to my clit with the hand that was on my neck, rubbing at the bundle of nerves I go to throw my head back.
“Don't you fucking dare, I want you to look at me when you cum on my cock with that pretty pussy” he says through gritted teeth. I whimper at his words feeling white hot pleasure start to build up, “please please please please” I beg, “come on pretty girl let it out” as he fucks the spot in me that many have had trouble finding. “I'm, ah” I cum, and I cum hard, “That's it, that's my girl”, but he still keeps going. Not stopping. “Schlatt” I manage to get out between moans, “I'm not done with you yet”, flipping me onto my stomach he lifts my hips as he pushes himself back in. “oh my fucking-” I get cut off when he starts slamming into me again, slapping my ass roughly he holds the fat on my hips again, leaving bruises. “She takes me so well princess” I whine, starting to drool from over-stimulation before he yanks my head by my hair pulling me flush against his body.
He grabs my waist, and snakes a hand down back to my clit, “schlatt I can't, I can't”, “Yes you fucking can”, I clench on his cock as my second orgasm builds up. “F- fuck” he moans out, “cum with me pretty girl”. I moan at his words as I feel his cock twitch in me, clenching down I cum and fall against the bed. He whimpers noises I never thought I'd hear from his mouth, “Take all of it, good girl, gon’ fill you up s’ nice”, I feel him paint my walls white as he slows to a hilt. He pulls out as liquid gushes out of my abused hole, “gotta get you cleaned toots’” he says out of breath. 
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this is my first post AHHHHH!!! let me know if you guys enjoy and if you want more!!
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princesssmars · 3 months ago
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hockey player!abby, skier!reader, and those stupid olympic beds. slight nsfw.
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it was no secret to anyone that you and abby had a very healthy relationship. you fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, compatible mentally, emotionally, romantically…
and physically. definitely physically.
it only took a month after your first time together for her teammates to start teasing her, pointing out the purple marks trailing up and down her body in the locker rooms, how her mood has somehow gotten even more chipper, not to mention that time some frat dickhead flirted with you at a party and you showed up to a game the next day with abby’s custom jersey on a slight limp in your step…
it got to the point where just your presence at a practice pulled abby’s attention in like a black hole, the blonde constantly checking to make sure you were in the same spot and waving cutely at you before getting slammed by someone she was supposed to be guarding against. after a few times her coach had to temporarily ban you from coming, or at least wearing the ugliest piece of clothing you owned if you came.
so yes. everybody knows you’re both very satisfied.
now, when you picked up your phone and saw five missed calls from abby in the span of ten minutes in the middle of the day, it’s safe to say your heart nearly dropped out of your ass. pressing the call back button and holding the device up to your ear, nothing but the worst scenarios fill your mind until her fast breathing fills your ear.
“babe, oh my god! why didn’t you pick up!”
“abs what’s wrong, are you okay?” you try to keep your voice steady, knowing that your panic will only make her panic which would be the worst thing if she was in an actually dangerous situation.
“no i’m not okay. is it true about the beds? please tell me it’s not true.”
you can hear two of her teammates giggling in the bathroom and it takes everything in you to not hang up and the phone spend the next month at your own place.
“what….abby what beds?”
“at the games! the olympics! jamie said the ones in milan are gonna be cardboard. and that they had a ban on. well, yknow.”
you let out a long sigh, clearly a loud one if the increased laughter in the background of the call is anything to go by. you pinch the bridge of your nose and try your best to act sane.
“yeah, babe, they’ll probably be cardboard. but there’s no ban of sex, that were just some temporary covid restrictions in tokyo. don’t think one would work, anyway. thousands of hot athletes in a single village? let’s be serious.”
halfway through your explanation she lets out a relived sigh joined by a ‘oh thank god’, a plethora of laughs and faux kissing noises drowning out her voice.
“ugh, you two are so whipped.” jamie’s voice pipes in from the background, abby groaning with the tell tale sound of fake slapping ringing from your phone.
“why don’t you tell jamie to keep her mouth shut and worry about how her girlfriends had her in the doghouse for three week?”
abby cackles on the other side of the phone, pestering her teammate for answer before you hear the sound of her stomping away, the other girls following after her.
“gosh, thanks for that. they never stop pestering me about you. whatever, they’re just jealous i got to you first. and that i’m not sharing.”
your heart warms at her possessiveness, always giddy when she shows clear affection towards you. “aww, you’re cute. tell me when your practice is over and i’ll pick you up, take you to get some pizza and i’ll spill all of the drama i learned last week.”
“you’re the best. buttt now that i know there’s no ban, maybe after pizza we can start warming up for our post game activities.”
“abs, the games are two years away.”
“i always say practice makes perfect!”
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last month i had a whole fantasy played out of abby and reader competing together in paris and having sweet ‘we’re in love and olympic champions’ sex before i realized their sports are winter olympics. which are in milan. 2026. i’ve never been the brightest.
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jirsungs · 2 months ago
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NO IDEA | 11. lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities?
word count: 2k words (soo... i might've gone over my planned number which was 1k...)
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As soon as Donghyuck got the address of the man that shall not be named’s frat house, he jumped up from his bed. The sudden rustling noise of his panicking startles Renjun and Jaemin, who are scattered around his room. Renjun sat at Donghyuck’s PC desk and was originally trying to peacefully relax and build his Minecraft cottage house while Jaemin was busy munching on chips he stole from their snack stash and playing a game on his phone. 
“Jesus! Dude!”
Donghyuck ignores Renjun’s shriek, already rummaging through his closet (which was not the cleanest, but the messiest) for an acceptable “college frat party” outfit. 
“What’s up with him?” Jaemin mouths to the shorter male, which Renjun shrugs.
Both, now intrigued, remove their focus on their designated activities, and transfer it onto Donghyuck. “What’re you doing?” Renjun asks.
Donghyuck finally answers when he grabs out a gray hoodie, taking a quick whiff before putting it on. “Jeno texted about Hyunjin and Belle making out in a corner and—”
“Lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities?” Renjun interrupts. 
To this, Donghyuck frowns, and Jaemin only snickers at the reaction. “Hyuck, we’re messing with you. Go get your girl, man.” 
The former smiles. “Thanks, guys. I’ll be back in a bit.” 
Donghyuck’s pacing down the hallway to the door when one of the guys yells out, “And uh, if she pukes in Dongsookie, you’re cleaning it up!”
“Jun, what did I say about naming my car?!”
"Busy, can’t hear you!”
Rolling his eyes at Renjun’s obvious lie which was followed by Jaemin’s cackle, Donghyuck stands in front of the shoe rack. He’s about to put his foot into his shoe but stills himself for a moment. 
Is this the right move? What if she doesn’t want me there?
Before he can dwell too much on overthinking, his ringtone's annoying sound makes him jump in his spot. Is it a coincidence that you just happened to call him at this exact moment of his overthinking? He’s not sure, but the thought of it spreads a small smile when he sees your contact pop up.
“Hello?” He covers up his rapid breathing as if he wasn’t rushing to the door a few minutes prior.
“Donghyuckkk…”
The bumping background noise of the party music and your slurring words is all he can hear in his ear when he answers the phone, and Donghyuck doesn’t notice himself fanboying over how cute you are. He’s about to reply when you continue.
“Can yoooou… Pick… me up?”
“Y/N, how much did you drink, exactly?” The smile he’s wearing screams boyish; his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he anticipates your next reply.
“Pleaase…” With his question going unanswered, he decides not to push it.
“Alright, alright, wait for me. I’m on my way. Stay with your friends until I'm there, okay?”
The last thing he hears before you hang up is your little “Mhmm” before he hurriedly puts his shoes on, grabs his car keys, and exits out the door. 
“Sheesh, she’s cute.” 
Donghyuck finds himself fortunate that no one hears him giggling down the apartment hallway.
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When Donghyuck drives up to the frat house, he observes the sight with a scowl on his face. It's your typical college party.
How do people enjoy this? How does Jeno enjoy this? He thinks.
Little did anyone know, he sometimes thinks he could enjoy it. But a drunk Y/N walking around in the party seemed like a more important issue to think about at the moment.
After playing out the multiple possible scenarios of what could happen when he walks into the party, he gains the courage to turn off the ignition. He exhales a deep breath before finally exiting his car. 
As soon as he opens the door, he knows he doesn’t fit in. The blasting music makes him cover his ears, and the sweaty bodies pushing into him have him holding his breath. Most importantly, he doesn’t love how people can tell he isn’t familiar with this type of environment because some partygoers side-eye him as he walks past, and even people he recognizes from class whisper to their friends. 
Luckily, he’s welcomed by Jeno once he walks a few steps into the frat. 
“Aye, Hyuck! You’re here!” Jeno’s pat on the back somehow made him ease up a bit.
“Hey, Jeno. Where’s—”
Wasting no time, Jeno, who already knows the end of his friend’s question, nods over to the living room, where Donghyuck catches a glimpse of you drunkenly dancing between two guys. He hates that he can’t detect their faces or how one of the guys is slowly dancing a little bit too close to you or the small fume of jealousy building in his chest, but that’s not important.
Still oblivious to Donghyuck shooting laser beams into the guys’ heads for being so close to you, Jeno continues, “Dude, at least try to look like you fit in. You look awkward as fuck.”
But all Jeno gets is a hit to his side, and he winces. “Alright. That was deserved.”
Noticing that Donghyuck’s mind is distracted, Jeno acknowledges the bitterness and chuckles at his friend. So, saying no more, he nudges Donghyuck further into the crowd.
“Stop stalling and make a move!”
Donghyuck looks like a lost puppy as he politely passes through the crowd. Or at least he tried to; most people couldn’t hear him over the god-awful music that was playing. Seriously though, who’s on Aux? But he listened to Jeno’s advice and continued to push through, not because he wanted to—well, he kind of did—but because he knew Jeno wouldn’t let him leave the house without you in his arms. 
He regrets making him his wingman. He’s kidding. Sorta.
He makes his way into the living room when he finally sees you. He’s glad to see that one of the guys he saw earlier isn’t dancing near you anymore, but the one he noticed getting closer to you was still in his spot. It was obvious the guy was trying to have you grind on him or something. He was clearly failing.
He’s also glad that he’s unfamiliar with the guy because a real problem could’ve started. But then again, it wasn’t like he had the balls to start a fight over this anyway. Still, it tempted him.
Donghyuck walks over to you and wraps his hand around your wrist, and you finally take notice of him. “Baby, you’re heree…” 
His ears perk up at the nickname, and so does the unknown guy who Donghyuck watches scoot farther and farther away. He squints, wondering how someone could be so pathetic to be trying to get something with a drunk girl, but he’s thankful he isn’t an asshole who doesn’t care about her having a (fake) boyfriend.
You leaning on his chest takes him back to the current situation, and one of his hands somehow lands on your back while the other rests on the side of your waist. To anyone else, he would look so physically stiff being this touchy with you, but you? You were too drunk out of your mind to notice a single thing.
“Uh… Um. Y/N, we,” He awkwardly clears his throat before he leans down to reach your ear. “We should go, angel?” His head tilts confusingly at how foreign that pet name sounded on his tongue.
Shit. Why do I sound so unsure right now?
He immediately covers it up: “I mean, yes, angel. That's the right one. But uh, we need to go.” 
He’s about to walk you out of the crowd, but you pull him back in. “Nooo, dance with me?”
You give him the prettiest puppy eyes you can muster, and in that small moment, Donghyuck realizes that he's just a man. A stupid whipped man.
But no, you're drunk. He can't get weak in the knees now.
“Y/N, you're drunk. You're literally tipping over right now.” 
“Am not.” Geez, the pout on your face just makes him want to kiss—
“Y/N, there you are!”
The new voice makes Donghyuck jump, his hands resting on your back and waist falter slightly. He was ready to run if the culprit was revealed to be Hyunjin, but to his luck, it wasn't.
Instead, it was,
“Yo, Chenle, what the hell! You can't just leave that girl hanging—”
Mark and Chenle. Great. This wasn't the first impression I had in mind.
Both boys, confused as ever, glance between you and Donghyuck. Chenle takes account of the placement of your fake boyfriend's hands on your body and smirks. 
Mark, being the saint he is, breaks the ice first. “You're Donghyuck, I assume?”
The said guy is about to answer when he glimpses down at you, and that's when he finds you completely knocked out on his chest. 
When he does, he sends an apologetic look to both of them, “Yeah, that's me. But um, I don't wanna seem rude, I know this is our first time meeting, but can you—can you guys help me get her to my car? Jeno called me about earlier, saying I should drive her home.”
Mark and Chenle exchange a look, almost as if they were mentally saying “he's a good one” to one another. Seeing that he quickly got their yeses brought some type of happiness and relief to his chest. He couldn't pinpoint it.
“Yeah, we can help.”
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The moment Donghyuck succeeded in getting you inside your apartment was like a sigh of relief. He thanks Seulgi for being such an angel and lending him her spare key because he was well aware Yuqi was not going to. 
Was it difficult walking you out of Hyunjin's party? Yes. But watching you cutely stumble around the elevator on the way up and mumble gibberish made it all worth it.
He slips Seulgi's spare key onto the key hanger, his eyes not leaving your body as you walk around the living room unsteady. He smiles to himself when he watches you plop on the couch.
He's convinced you were knocked out again because of the decrease in mumbly sentences. So he's taken aback when he walks over to the couch to double-check to meet you with your eyes closed, but you cling onto his arm before he can leave. 
“Mm… Don't leave yet... I wan’ you heree…” You whine.
“Y/N, you’re drunk. Come on, let's get you to bed.”
“Ooh, the bed? Are we hitting third base already?” You tease, your eyebrows wiggling.
Even intoxicated and half asleep, she's still the same. An adorable pain in the ass. 
“Quit it, Y/N.” Despite his unimpressed tone, Donghyuck's cheeks still turn pink at your unexpected words, but he maintains his composure because he knows it's the intoxication talking. 
When he reaches under you to bridal carry you, he ignores the whiny protests that leave your mouth and is successful in holding you to your bedroom. He mentally reminds himself to thank you later on for Facetiming him so much when you needed extra help on certain math problems or just simply to enjoy each other’s company. If it hadn't been for the multiple late-night calls, he wouldn't have been able to differentiate your room from Seulgi's and Yuqi's.
After settling you into bed, Donghyuck thought that was the end of it. But it turns out you had other plans because now your arms circle his neck, trapping him close to you. He has no time to react when your lips meet the side of his neck.
“Hey, what—what’re you doing?” His words stuttered and nervous. He swears he didn’t mean them to.
He can't tell if you're drunk anymore. He hopes you are.
You wait for him to pull away, and when he doesn't, you smile against his neck, leaving drunk, uncoordinated kisses on it. “Just thought… I could make you look prettier.
Did she just call me pretty? Wait—geez, fucking focus, Donghyuck. She's drunk for God's sake. I think… Still, no!
Even though this moment is something he's dreamt about ever since freshman year, this can't happen now. You're drunk and vulnerable, and he'd rather have you in a state where you're only thinking of him, not your lousy excuse of an ex-boyfriend and his new floozy. 
He finally backs away from you. “Y/N, you're not thinking straight, alright? I–I gotta go.”
He doesn’t even wait for your reaction, immediately bolting out of your bedroom. He wastes no time in hurrying out of your apartment and letting whatever interaction between you two stay there. Plus, you'll forget all about this in the morning. For you, this never happened.
But for Donghyuck? Well, let's just say he didn't have the most comfortable ride home.
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note: FIRST WRITTEN CHAP FOR NO IDEAAA, EVERYBODY CHEER!!! 👏 to those who read drum me, stupid, you're probably used to my written chapters that are planned to be short but end up being long... that'll never change, i fear 😔☝️ anyway! writing this made me smile bc ynhyuck are cute and hyuck's just an awkward boy:((( but i must sleep. it is 1am. I HOPE THIS MADE YALL GIGGLE AS WELL !
🖇 (open!): @skeetyeetyote @junviadinho @n0hyuck @yewshi @marvelahsobx @hqech @sunflowerhae @loveholicness @sfswithfs @222brainrot @dudekiss3r @aek1ra @nosungluv @miyawwn @haechology @chenlesfavorite @alethea-moon @polarisjisung @lionzyon @mystverse @insaneanddrained @starfilledgaze @onlyhyunjin @swee7dream @haechsworld @markspossibilities @schatjze @minniesbae @multifandomania @neozon3nha @zzurao @hoshipills @nessaassen02 @lavender-roses-06 @ohwowzersthatscool @sunghoonsgfreal @ldh0000 @taeeflwrr @do-you-remember-summer-127 @hyuck-me @injunnie-lemon @txthyuck @jeongintwt @starwonb1n @413ktz @haechansbbg @galacticnct @keeryverse @kosmicbomb @thegracerammy
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worseforwords · 9 months ago
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The Arrangement
(Alessia Russo x Reader)
Chapter I of Marshmallow
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“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” your mom’s voice cackled through the phone. “Take your phone off your ear, mum, you’ve facetimed me,” you chuckled. “Oh, right. Hi, darling, lovely to SEE you,” she giggled at her own joke. “How are you, love? And where are you? I don’t recognise that wall behind you,” she inquired. “I’m in the changing room at Arsenal, you know, my job.” “Right, ‘course. Everything alright? How’s your g-” “Yeah, everything’s good,” you quickly interrupted her, hoping no one in the changing room caught on to what she was about to say. “I have to head to training soon, mum. Did you want anything from me?” “Right, busy woman, no time for chit-chat with her mum. Your dad and I were just wondering if we could come visit you anytime soon. We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and we would both really love to meet your girlfriend!” She said that last part with a bit too much excitement, and you were sure you saw some heads snap your way from the corner of your eye. “Ehh, yeah, I’m just a little busy at the moment with football, so I’m not sure when I’ll be free,” you said as you quickly turned down the volume of your phone. “I know, darling, but I noticed there’s no match scheduled the weekend after the next one, so you’ll be free then, right?” Another disadvantage of being a professional athlete: usually having a very public schedule. “Right, yeah, I think so. I’ll call you after training, mum.”
You hung up after both of you exchanged goodbyes and you immediately noticed a few eyes on you. One pair belonged to a smirking Katie, who quickly plumped herself down next to you. “What was that I heard? Does somebody have a new girlfriend?” “What the hell, why haven’t I heard about this?” Leah joined in. “Lotte, did you know?” Your roommate Lotte shook her head. “Haven’t seen or heard anyone at our house.” “How is that even possible?” Victoria wondered out loud. “Is it a long-distance thing?” Caitlin joined in on the conversation. By this point, you were surrounded by your teammates, gazing at you, awaiting answers, and your head was spinning, trying to come up with anything to explain your situation.
Ultimately you decided on just telling them the truth, knowing full well a lie wasn’t getting you out of this situation. “There is no girlfriend,” you said quietly. Clearly, your answer wasn’t satisfactory as everyone kept staring at you frantically. “My parents kept asking me when I would finally bring someone home because my brother and sister are both happily married or engaged homeowners starting their own families. They keep telling me not to wait until it’s too late. At Christmas, when they started again, I finally snapped. I lied and told them I have a girlfriend.” You took a quick breath before you continued. “Only it backfired because now they won’t stop asking me about her, and apparently, I have to find a girlfriend within the next week or so.” You let your head fall into your hands dramatically. There was a short silence as everyone around you processed what you had just told them. Then a loud shriek as Katie burst out laughing. “Oh boy, you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, mate!” she shouted. “Good luck with that.”
The next few minutes were filled with everyone either light-heartedly teasing your situation or attempting to play matchmaker and find you a girlfriend, which you knew was futile with only 10 days to go. This was precisely why you avoided going on dates. All the unwarranted attention and people meddling in your life, you didn't need it. You’d rather concentrate on the love of your life that you did have some control over: football. Fortunately, Kim took her captaincy very seriously and summoned everyone out of the changing room for training to begin, but not before sending you a sympathetic smile as you mouthed a quick “thank you” to her.
Training went by swiftly, and afterward, some of the girls gathered at Beth and Viv’s for dinner. You sat on the sofa with Laura and Viv as Alessia was directing Vic in the kitchen, and Beth was setting the table. “So, Y/N, are you going to tell your parents the truth about your girlfriend... or lack thereof?” Laura asked. “I don’t know; it’ll be so embarrassing. And I definitely won’t be able to hold off on them trying to set me up with their neighbour’s son, who is studying to be a doctor, or my mum’s colleague’s daughter who’s in law school.” You imitated your mom as you talked about the people your parent wanted to set you up with before dramatically making a barf gesture. “But what else can you do?” Viv asked. “Let’s see... Fake my own death and start a new life elsewhere? Start studying robotics and learn to design my own robot girlfriend? Pretend I’ve got short-term memory loss and have forgotten who my own girlfriend is?”
“Okay, I need to join in on this, scoot,” Beth waved her hands, gesturing for you to move over. “The fact that you thought of building a robot girlfriend before considering finding an actual girlfriend is insane,” she said, almost like she was scolding you. “I get it,” mumbled Viv as Beth immediately sent her a stern glare to which she responded with by blowing her a quick kiss. “I don’t want a relationship right now. Besides, 10 days is way too little time to find someone,” you said, ignoring their antics. “Fine, have it your way, go with the robot. Vic can help you; she’s studied maths,” she joked as she got up again. “Excuse me,” Vic got involved from the kitchen. “Which of my subjects do you think is about robot girlfriends?” She giggled. “I say go with the Dory thing.”
“Vic, stir this sauce for a bit, please,” Alessia spoke sternly as she turned towards all of you. “Okay, I can’t believe no one has thought of this, but the solution is very simple. You just find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend for the weekend your parents visit,” she explained as all of you listened. “Yes! Less, that’s a perfect plan,” Beth exclaimed. “But who should it be? Maybe you can hire an actor!” She added as you seriously considered this option for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know, seems kind of risky if they don’t really know me,” you said. 
“Yeah, you should probably pick a friend, someone you’ve known for a while and who knows what you’re up to these days,” Laura stated. “Sooo, maybe a teammate?” Vic suggested. “Yes!” Beth shouted again. “A teammate. But who? Obviously not someone who is openly dating someone else already, so me and Viv are out,” she then stated more calmly. “Laura and I can’t make it either, we’re going out with the Aussies, remember?” Vic asked as Laura nodded.
A silence fell as everyone sort of stared at Alessia, who was too focused on her cooking to notice. “Less?” Beth caught her attention, making her jump a little when she noticed everyone’s hopeful gazes fixated on her. “Are you available?” she asked. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll do it.” Alessia sent you a quick smile before continuing to make dinner. “That settles it then,” Beth said, giving you no say in the matter whatsoever. If you were being honest, though, you were just glad you had found somewhat of a solution to your problem. Besides, you didn’t know Alessia that well, the two of you usually being in different friend groups within the team and you had been intrigued to get to know her better for a while now.
The next few days in training everyone was mostly focussed on the game ahead. Some new pieces of gossip flooded the changing room and much to your delight, you and your love life were left unspoken of. It almost seemed a bit too good to be true, and you were now starting to worry it had all been a joke that you took too seriously. After all, the whole plan was a bit insane, definitely unlike anything you had ever done before. Were you just too desperate to notice that it was all banter?
"Everything alright, Y/N?” Alessia's voice jolted you from your mental spirals. “You seem a bit distracted.” “Yeah, all good. My mind just wandered for a second.” You feigned a smile. “Okay.” She returned the smile. “Hey, Alessia,” you began before she could exit the changing room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She settled herself beside you.
“So, you know about our crazy fake girlfriend plan, and—” “Correction, it’s my crazy plan, not ‘our’. My idea.” She interjected with a satisfied expression. “Right, your crazy plan. Anyhow, I realise you were put on the spot when Beth asked if you were available. I just wanted to say you don’t have to do it; I can find someone else,” you spoke hesitantly. “Oh no, I want to do it. Unless you’d prefer someone else, of course.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly clarified. “Alright then, let’s do it.” You offered a shy smile. “Ehh, I hope that’s not how you planned on asking me,” she giggled. You shot her an ‘are you serious?’ look. She responded with what you assumed was her best ‘yes, I’m serious, how dare you even question that’ expression. “Give me one second.”
You darted around the corner, returning a few seconds later with a ring made from bright blue kinesiology tape. “Alessia Russo, will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend for the weekend?” you proposed, getting down on one knee before her. “Yes, YES, a thousand times yes!” She dramatically pretended to swoon as you slid the makeshift ring onto her finger.
“Right, so my parents will be visiting from Friday night until Sunday, most likely,” you swiftly changed the subject, attempting to avoid any blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But you don’t have to be there for the entire duration, of course. If you could just pop in for a bit on Saturday, that would be great,” you suggested. “Oh, well I don’t really have any other plans because I assumed this would be an all-weekend kind of thing,” she replied softly, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks intensify. “And Dan is out of town anyway.”
Right, Dan. Her boyfriend. You were aware of him, you had met him – this wasn’t new information. So why did you suddenly feel a knot tightening in your stomach at Alessia mentioning him? “So, what do you want me to be like?” She brought you back from your thoughts. “What do you mean?” You asked. “I mean, how do you want me to be around your parents? We’ve got to impress them, right?” She explained. “Oh, just be yourself. They’ll love you. I know they will,” you assured her as she got up from the bench, ready to go warm up.
“Whatever happened in here?” Leah asked as she entered the changing room, followed by some other girls, right after Alessia had left. “What do you mean?” You inquired. “Well, Less just almost walked into me; she was all flustered and smiley, and now here you are, looking all flustered and upset,” she explained. “Nothing happened. I’m not upset. Just a bit nervous about my parents visiting and everything,” you lied. Either Leah didn’t notice or she decided to let you off the hook, but either way, she didn’t ask any further questions about it. As one of your best friends, Leah knew you very well, and she also knew that questioning you in a room full of people was the worst thing she could do to you. 
“So is Less still coming?” Beth inquired. “Yes,” you mumbled, not wanting everyone to get involved again, but with no success. “Less?” Katie jumped in. “Why would she come?” Luckily, Beth came to your aid and explained the whole situation to everyone there so you didn’t have to.
“That’s a great plan,” Katie finally spoke. “But how will we make it believable?” “I’m sorry, we?” You tried to interrupt. “We should quiz them!” Beth suggested loudly, ignoring you entirely. “What is happening?” You mumbled to Leah who just laughed at you in response. “Yes! Lotte, can you come up with some questions about Less, and Leah, you can do the same for Y/N.” 
Somehow, everyone had agreed on the quiz idea, and once again, you had no say in it. On Wednesday night, a few of the girls gathered at Lotte and your place to prepare you and Alessia for the weekend. The anticipation in the air was as thick as the excitement before a big match. Tables were set up, and a stack of papers with questions lay in the centre. Lotte, with her mischievous smile, and Leah, ever ready for a good laugh, were the architects of this grand interrogation.
You, Alessia, and the rest of the team settled in around the living room. The atmosphere was a mix of nerves and amusement, everyone eager to see how this plan would unfold. Beth, who put on an oversized blazer and a bright red Arsenal bowtie for the occasion, took charge, announcing the rules with a theatrical flourish.
“Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Ultimate Fake Girlfriend Quiz Night!” She exclaimed, earning a round of laughter. “We’ve got questions about Y/N for Alessia and questions about Alessia for Y/N. Let’s see how well our fake couple knows each other.” The room erupted into cheers. Lotte, holding a list of questions about Alessia, winked at you. Leah, armed with questions about you, looked equally mischievous.
The first round began, and Leah fired off questions about you. Alessia, to everyone’s surprise, answered with remarkable accuracy. “Alright, Alessia,” Leah said with a smirk, “what’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure snack?”
Alessia pondered for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Chocolate-covered pretzels. She hides them in the back of a cabinet, but I always find them.” Laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Alessia, impressed and slightly amused that she had picked up on your secret indulgence. Apparently her close friendship with your roommate had given her quite an advantage.
Lotte, taking her turn, quizzed you about Alessia’s life. “What’s Alessia’s weirdest talent?” she asked with a sly grin. You thought for a moment, realising Alessia had shared a few quirky skills in the changing room. “She can do this weird thing with her tongue, like roll it into a clover shape. It’s bizarrely impressive.”
Alessia blushed, seemingly surprised that you remembered such a minor detail. The room erupted into cheers again. As the quiz progressed, Alessia consistently demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of your habits and likes. It seemed like she had been paying much more attention than you thought.
The highlight came when Leah, with a devious smile, presented the final question: “What’s Y/N’s weirdest habit in the morning?” Alessia, grinning confidently, answered, “She talks to herself in the mirror while doing her hair. Full-on conversations with her own reflection.” Your face turned crimson, and a chorus of laughter echoed through the room. You shot Alessia a playful glare.
The quiz ended and the consensus was clear — Alessia and you knew each other surprisingly well, considering this was supposed to be a fake relationship. However, Katie, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.
She leaned forward with a teasing grin. “So, you two aced the quiz, but do you even have any chemistry?” Her question hung in the air, causing a collective intake of breath from the spectators. Alessia looked at you, a subtle uncertainty in her eyes. “Seriously, guys, you need to up your game. You look way too platonic.”
Your teammates, now fully invested in your fake romance, decided to play relationship coaches. “Alright, stand up,” Beth commanded. “Let’s see how you two handle physical proximity. Hug. Now.” You and Alessia exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit awkward. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping your arms around each other. The teammates observed and then erupted into a chorus of opinions.
“Too stiff!”
“More like you mean it!”
“Look into each other’s eyes, not the ceiling!”
You and Alessia shared an amused yet bewildered look. The teammates continued their analysis, discussing everything from hand-holding techniques to the positioning of your bodies. It was like a crash course in relationship theatrics. “Alright, sit down,” Beth commanded again. “You two are sitting too far apart. Scoot closer.”
As you and Alessia moved to sit side by side, Steph suggested, “Try a more casual touch. Like, Y/N, put your hand on Alessia’s leg.” Panic flashed across your face, but you complied, very carefully placing your hand on Alessia’s leg. The room erupted into laughter again.
“Okay, she said casual, Y/N. She’s not made of thin glass now is she?” Beth joked, and Alessia chuckled as you adjusted your grip, secretly wanting to disappear into the couch. The teammates continued to give advice, critiquing every move and gesture. Amidst the laughter and chaos, Laura suggested, “You guys should try the 36 Questions. You know, that study that makes people fall in love?”
That mention drew curious looks from you and Alessia. Beth explained, “People say you’ll fall in love if you answer them honestly with someone. It could help you two look more... well, in love.” The idea was met with a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. “Homework for our fake couple!” Beth declared, and everyone laughed.
As the evening wound down, the teammates left your place. Everyone but Alessia, who offered to help you clean the place up. Lotte went to bed, leaving you and your now approved ‘fake girlfriend’ with a newfound list of relationship do’s and don’ts, along with the prospect of a homework assignment that promised to make your fake relationship more convincing.
“So… I guess we’ve got some homework to do,” you said, feeling very awkward all of a sudden now that it was just you two. You then realised you had never really hung out together without at least one other person being there. “Yeah, 36 questions,” she started as she grabbed her phone. “Do you believe in this?”
“No of course not,” you said, ever the sceptic. “But I do believe Katie is gonna murder us if we don’t do our homework. Both of you exchanged glances like, ‘Are we really doing this?’ and rolled your eyes in silent agreement that this was a bit of a silly experiment.
“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She read the first question from her phone, immediately gazing at the ceiling as if in thought about her answer. “I bet yours would be Michael Jordan,” you said. “Hey, I’m asking you about your answer not mine!” She giggled as she elbowed your shoulder. 
“Fine, let me think. Do they have to be alive?” You wondered. “I mean I guess it says ‘anyone’, so if you want to have dinner with a corpse, by all means,” she chuckled. “No, not like that, ew,” you now elbowed her. “I just mean I would love to have dinner with my grandma. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, but I only ever knew her as a child so I’ve never been able to thank her for it.” Still in thought you stared at your feet for a bit until you realised it had been quiet for a while in your living room. 
“Sorry,” you said, quickly looking up and finding Alessia’s eyes already on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just go with Beyoncé, she’d be a cool dinner guest,” you quickly changed your answer. “No, no, that was really sweet. I bet your grandma would love to have dinner with you too. And I’m sure she knew you’d be grateful,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on yours. “Yeah well, you just called her a corpse so that idea is kind of ruined for me now,” you teased. “No I didn’t!” She protested.
The first couple of questions were mostly light and you chuckled at each other’s silly answers. However, as you continued down the list, the questions became increasingly deep and personal and as eye-rolls turned into thoughtful pondering, you both found yourselves sharing way more than you had expected. 
Alessia’s responses were open and honest as she shared stories about her childhood dreams, the hurdles in her football journey, and her aspirations beyond the pitch. One question, in particular, struck a chord: “If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” Alessia’s response was heartfelt. “I’d want to be fearless. Not just on the field, but in life. There are times when I feel held back by my own doubts and fears. I’d love to face everything without that weight.”
Her openness made it easy for you to share your own dreams and fears. The conversation flowed easily, moving through topics of love, aspirations, and personal histories. It felt like something shifted between the two of you. Alessia was no longer just a teammate or a fake girlfriend to you. She was someone you could talk to, someone you felt a genuine connection with and you had a newfound appreciation for her.
By the time you had finished the first set of questions you finally looked at the time. “Oh my god, Alessia, it’s 2 am!” You both jumped up. Two hours had passed since everyone had left and you had an early training the next morning. “Really? How did that happen. I should run then,” she said.
“Hey, do you want to stay over?” You asked as you immediately noticed her questioning expression. “In the guest room I mean. Just cause we have an early training tomorrow and I don’t want you to be exhausted.” You quickly added. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” She smiled shyly at you. “Okay, be right back.” You stated as you sprinted towards your bedroom.
You returned a few minutes later with a bunch of stuff in your arms. “Here’s an unused toothbrush, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and I didn’t know what you like to sleep in so here’s some shorts, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Wear whatever you want.” You rambled nervously as she chuckled. “Thank you Y/N. Good night.”
The next morning, your alarm blared, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groggily, you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Training awaited, and as you yawned your way through the morning routine, the events of the previous night flashed in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Alessia, who was already up, seemingly more awake than you were. She flashed you a tired yet friendly smile. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” you replied, trying to shake off the remnants of your dreams. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar situation you found yourselves in.
As you headed to training together, you couldn’t ignore the amused glances from your teammates. Alessia, clad in your training gear because she hadn’t brought her own, was the target of playful banter. “Nice walk of shame, Alessia!” Katie teased, eliciting laughter from others. “You two look tired, looks like our chemistry experiments worked a little too wel!” Quipped Beth, pointing out the bags under both your eyes.
Training progressed as usual, but not without the occasional teasing from one of your teammates. You knew none of them really meant anything by it though. Everyone knew it was just a bit and that the two of you were no more than friends. And so did you, cause that was the deal, right? 
“You know,” Alessia began when the two of you were alone for a second after Katie asked her when you were planning your next sleepover, “despite all the teasing and the fake girlfriend stuff, I’m kind of enjoying getting to know you better.” You felt your cheeks starting to flush as you took in her genuine smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s strange how these things work out.” You tried your best to reciprocate her smile without blushing too hard. What on earth was happening to you?
The day went by swiftly as the prospect of having Alessia around as your fake girlfriend all weekend had you slowly spiral into a nervous wreck. When Friday afternoon finally arrived, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror as you went over the many things that could go wrong. What if your parents didn’t believe it? What if they did? What would that even mean? What if she never even showed up cause who were you to think she would do something like that for you? What if her boyfriend got mad? What if she suddenly started liking you, for real? What if she didn’t?
You splashed water in your face, desperately trying to stop your mind from spiralling, and more specifically to erase those last thoughts. Where was your mind coming up with all this none-sense? Was there something more to this? Another splash. No. None-sense. You groaned as you watched drops of water trickle down your face. 
“Y/N? Everything okay?” You heard Lotte’s voice call out from the other side of the locked bathroom door. “Less is here.” You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “Be right there!”
“You’re early,” is the first thing you said when you came out of the bathroom after quickly drying yourself off and fixing your hair. “Nice to see you too.” A kindly smiling Alessia appeared once you opened the door. “Thought I’d help you prepare before your parents show up. Hey, are you okay?” She gazed at you as if she was examining your current state. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, hi, thank you for being here.” You opened up your arms as an invitation for a hug which she accepted immediately.
“Allright, lovebirds, I’m out.” Lotte said, suitcase in hand as she hugged you both goodbye, leaving for a little romantic getaway with her boyfriend. “Have fun!” You both shouted at the same time as she closed the door behind herself.
You spent the next hour or so getting the house ready for your parent’s arrival and providing Alessia with all the necessary information on your family, as if you were doing a last minute study session for an exam.
Then, a knock on the door echoed through the house, signalling the arrival of your parents. A surge of nerves shot through you as you exchanged a quick glance with Alessia. You both took a deep breath, steeling yourselves for the upcoming performance. “Ready?” Alessia whispered, and you nodded, though your heart was doing a drumroll in your chest.
-> Chapter II
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ghouldump · 2 months ago
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Trick or Treat | Lestat de Lioncourt x Reader
ෆ sneaking into the supposedly empty townhouse, you are met by a surprise
literally something fun and random since we’re officially in spooky season 😆🎃
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“what are you supposed to be?” the random girl asked, as you stood in the mirror, applying the burgundy lipstick.
“a vampire,” you said, sitting the stick down to reach and tighten your corset.
“could've had me fooled, i thought you were a hooker,” she cackled, while you frowned.
“and you are?”
“poision ivy-
“are you sure though, because it’s giving fiona in shrek forever after,” you said, the rest of your friends laughing, while she frowned, storming out of the crowded bathroom.
“bitch,” you mumbled, watching the door as she walked away.
you had allowed your friends to drag you to the nightclub, the prices were half off for those with costumes, which is why you dressed up to begin with. you loved to party, but not tonight, not when you intended on binge-watching all of your favorite halloween movies you'd seen too many times to count.
“i’ll be back, i need some air,” you mumbled, leaving the restroom before any of your friends could stop you.
stepping outside, you sighed, it was refreshing to be out of the humid building. the wind blowing in the night sky, as the tourist crowded the french quarters. you didn’t see the hype, everything was always overpriced — but your friends insisted, claiming all of the potential hook ups would be in the club tonight.
“y/n, are you okay?” kasey, a close friend, came out of the club, her eyebrows slightly raised.
“i’m fine, i’m just not feeling it, i think i’ll catch an uber home,” you said.
“i can bring you-
“no, i don’t want to ruin tonight, i’ll text you when i’m home, you have fun,” you told her, hugging her as she nodded.
“see you later,” she said, going back into the building.
opening the app on your phone, you were about to type in your address, when the voice caught your attention.
“this is the house of the famous rockstar, lestat de lioncourt, he claims to be a vampire,” the tour guide said excitedly, as you slowly approached the group.
“do you think it’s true?”
“well, new orleans has always been a strange place, so we can’t be sure — but he could have a potential ancestor who’s name was also lestat, who moved here, from france,” the guide explained, making you look at the large townhouse.
you were just now hearing about this. you had seen the rockstar a few times in the media, but you had no idea he lived in new orleans. there was too much history from all over the city, to be fascinated by one individual, who could have been a vampire.
pretending to be on your phone, you waited until the group moved along before you slipped past the fence, and went to the door. twisting the knob, you were surprised to find the door unlocked. were they not afraid people would sneak into this house?
shutting the door behind yourself, you turned on your phone’s flashlight, and walking through the house. first, the living room, vintage, yet timeless, each piece of furniture, costly in price. thousands of books, most you hadn’t even heard of, your fingers lightly dragged across them. moving upstairs, you stopped at the first door, twisting the knob, but realized, it was locked.
going to the second door, you entered the master bedroom, eyeing the king-sized bed in the middle of the room, you walked from corner to corner, touching any and everything, when you accidentally triggered a lever — opening a hidden room. seeing a singular coffin, you gasped.
the rumors seemed to likely be true, you couldn’t wait to get home and text the group chat about this. turning to leave, you jumped back, as your flashlight was pointed at the blonde man, who stood around six feet, with peculiar blue eyes.
“oh my goodness, you scared the hell out of me,” you said, making him grin. his expression was sending chills down your spine.
“it isn’t nice to enter someone’s home without their permission,” he said, as you stared into his eyes, it dawned on you, that this was the rockstar…who is a vampire.
“i am so sorry, i wasn’t thinking, but i really need to get going-” you went to move around him, when he moved in front of you, the lights turning on. he hadn't even touched the switch, and yet the room had lit up in an instant.
“i can’t just let you leave, not after what you’ve seen,” he said, smiling as you backed away.
“i won’t tell anyone, i don’t know why i-
“shh, shh, you’re so afraid,” he said, his smiling growing, as he reached to touch your pounding heart.
“please don’t hurt me,” you shut your eyes, turning your head.
“trick or treat”
“excuse me?” you opened your eyes, facing him.
“trick or treat, let’s determine if you deserve to leave so freely,” he tilted his head.
“treat,” you gulped, as he grinned, his fangs showing.
“are you supposed to be a vampire?” he asked suddenly, chuckling.
“y-yes” he was the first person to get it right all night, in the first guess.
“i mean, i see it, but it’s a bit stereotypical, don’t you think,” he said, crossing his arms, as he examined the costume.
“where did you get it?” he reached, tracing the fabric.
“spirit…halloween,” you said, as he rolled his eyes.
“that explains why it feels so cheap,” he said before he was back staring at you.
“please don’t kill me”
“you’re an eccentric human, your thoughts are so complex, i think i’ll keep you around,” he said, moving closer. your thoughts were like a storm, conflicting, while intriguing.
“mister-
“don’t worry, chèrie, you are destined for a treat unlike any other,” he said, pulling you closer, his fangs sinking into your neck.
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“is it still ringing? i can try calling her,” kasey stressed, a few hours into the morning, she realized you never texted her. the sun was now setting, and they were scrambling to get in contact with you.
meanwhile, in the luxurious townhouse, hidden in the secret room — lestat laid in his coffin. your phone lay on the counter, ringing for the millionth time, but you didn’t hear it. straddling his lap, there was a light thumping from the shifting of the coffin. your moans filled the walls, as lestat traced up your pretty skin, now covered with the beauty marks of his fangs.
coming down from the euphoric state, you leaned down, kissing his soft lips. moaning, you giggled as he kissed from your lips, onto your neck, before his fangs were back in your neck. your eyes rolled back, moaning at the feeling. while it hurt, the first few times, there was only pleasure now.
pulling away, you stared into lestat’s eyes, kissing his lips, tasting the iron from your blood. you couldn't help but admire the amount of control lestat had over himself.
“will you turn me into a vampire?” you asked him, as his hand went to your neck, tracing down to your shoulder.
“do you want to be a vampire?” he asked, as his hand moved back up, laying against your cheek, as you nodded.
“when i was younger, i used to pretend to be one,” you admitted.
“prove yourself to me, and we can discuss the possibility,” he said, as you pecked his lips once more, nodding in understanding.
“can i have your autograph, my friend are probably losing their minds, and i need a really good reason why i haven't reached out,” you told him, your nails trailing down his chest.
“of course, but i expect to see you back tomorrow night,” he said matter of factly, holding your hand, as you carefully stood.
going to your phone, your eyes widened at the number of calls and messages. “oh my-i don't think that will be enough, they’ll probably hate me after this,” you stressed, flenching, as he ended up behind you in a matter of seconds.
“tell them you were busy, stuck in a game of trick or treat,” he winked, as you nodded, beginning to get dressed. grabbing a marker, he signed your cleavage and sent you on your way, fully expecting you back in the next few hours.
god, you loved halloween.
i can't decide if i prefer a happy ending, or angst, like ughh
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kingofthecotas · 2 months ago
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find tomorrow with you
5 times valentino suggests they get married and 1 time marc does | 2.4k words
5+1 is a fun and whimsical format that we should use more often
–––
i. 
It’s not the first time Marc has been to Tavullia since Valentino decided his life was infinitely better when they spoke—and, indeed, fucked—but today is the first time he truly seems comfortable. 
Pecco being here is helping, helping soothe the agitation that is all Bez’s, helping to be a friendly face—and Luca, if he weren’t finding it all so funny, would be helping as well. Marc is smiling, talking, laughing—and he isn’t dragging his feet as they all get ready to ride. That’s the crux of it, the load-bearing pillar that crumbled their first time around. 
Not this time. They won’t let it. 
(Not ever again, Valentino won’t let that happen ever again. He won’t do that to Marc ever again.)
It’s never polite when they race at the ranch. It’s animalistic, all friendship abandoned at the archway that marks the start of the track, screeching under helmets as they tear around corners and dive into the side of opponents. No quarter. No prisoners. 
Naturally, Marc, now he’s comfortable, is perfectly suited to this kind of all-out warfare. 
(He’s terrifying. Valentino is entranced. He loves him.) 
It happens after about an hour, all of them hot and tired but no one willing to throw a white flag. Marc goes for the lead, throws it up the inside of Bez, and outbrakes himself. He skids to the edge of the track, where his front tyre finally surrenders, and he’s sliding through dirt, one leg dragged with the bike.  
Even over the growl of two-stroke engines, Valentino can hear Bez’s, “Oh shit.” 
He pulls to the side of the track, kicks the peg-stand down with a practiced ease that covers his panic, because Marc is staggering away from under his bike, is collapsing on his back, shoulders shaking, and what if he’s hurt—?
“Marc?” 
Marc is cackling like a maniac, leathers dusted white, one hand over the part of his helmet where his forehead would be—even Bez can’t stop himself laughing in return. 
Valentino kneels beside him, pushes his visor up. Then he pushes Marc’s open, too.
“You idiot,” he says, slow and deliberate, yet without sting. 
Marc laughs harder. “That was fun!”
Valentino leans down, helmets almost touching. “I am going to divorce you.”
Bez chokes on his giggle.
Marc doesn’t miss a beat, eyes still smiling at Vale through his visor. “You have to marry me to do that.” 
“I will marry you,” Valentino agrees, “and then I will divorce you.” 
Marc laughs again. 
——
ii.
Valentino’s phone alarm goes off at 5:45, fifteen minutes to spare before lights out, and he stifles a groan, rolls away from Marc. Marc does not appreciate being woken up before seven on a Sunday. 
(He knows that. He loves that he knows that.) 
Qualifying had been hairy, drizzling but not completely wet. It should be a dry race, though, and he settles himself on the sofa downstairs just in time for the broadcast to start scrolling through the starting grid. Kimi had done well, and he smiles.
There’s a noise in the doorway: Marc, a hoodie thrown over his bare chest, eyes heavy.
“Good morning,” Valentino says, raspy. “Did I wake you up?”
“Who has a race at this time?” Marc grumbles. 
“They are in Japan,” Valentino says, and lets Marc crawl into the space next to him, tired and clumsy with it. “Now you know what it is like when I am watching you in Japan, or Malaysia, or Australia.”
Marc groans in the back of his throat.
“You could go back to bed.”
“You’re not there.” Unfocused eyes peering over the top of his hoodie, Marc glares at the screen, seemingly unaware that he’s just curled something warm and tender around Valentino’s ribs. “Who are we cheering for?”
“Ah, your friend Carlos managed only twelfth. It is Piastri and Verstappen at the front—Kimi is there in fourth, you see? And the Ferraris in fifth and sixth—always we want them to do well. Lando had a penalty, so he is seventh, but the McLaren should be fast here.”
They’re pulling away for the formation lap, weaving to warm their tyres. Marc watches, focused as ever, until he yawns. Valentino shushes him. 
“They are not even racing,” 
“They are explaining the strategy.”
Lights out. Clean start. Marc is watching more intently now, undivided attention, check pressed against Valentino’s arm.
Ten laps in, Gasly dives down the inside of Ocon, and they’re both spinning off into grass and gravel; embarrassing but harmless, enough to bring out the safety car. Valentino pulls himself free and goes to make coffee. 
Marc is barely visible beneath the throw when he returns, dark eyes glaring balefully at the television like it’s offended him personally, but he softens when Valentino hands him a mug.
“You are the best,” he mumbles, then, “At making coffee.”
Valentino laughs—once, he might have bristled at the harmless joke—and slides back into his spot between Marc and the sofa arm. Marc thumps his head down, somehow burying himself even deeper in his swaddling of blanket and hoodie and Valentino. 
It’s—it’s something they never would have imagined, even two years ago. It’s gentle, early Sunday mornings wrapped around each other; the kind of softness that shouldn’t be possible after years of tearing each other apart, digging in fingers and pulling until they drew blood. 
Valentino doesn’t ever want to go there again. He doesn’t ever want to lose this. 
Marc is breathing softly against his arm, still, quiet, perfect. 
“I want to marry you,” he murmurs.
Silence. His stomach drops. 
Marc’s inhale catches in the back of his throat, halfway to a snore, and Valentino laughs, gentle so he doesn’t wake him. He plucks the coffee cup, dangling precariously, from slack fingers, and places it on the side table. 
——
iii.
They’ve created a routine over the past few months.
(Valentino’s stomach jumps every time he thinks about it, thinks about how they’re falling into habits, into familiarity. Every time, he smiles.) 
It’s their last day together for a while: Marc is leaving later, and Valentino flies early in the morning to get to his GT race. But the routine doesn’t change. He’s making lunch for them. Marc is upstairs—his phone had rung, insistent, and he’d groaned but pulled away, leaving Valentino to chop the rest of their salad. 
Marc emerges after nearly twenty-five minutes, eyebrows pinched together, but accepts the plate Valentino slides towards him with a distracted smile.
“Everything okay?” Valentino asks.
“Ah, my accountant.” Marc scowls. “Apparently I am spending too much time in Italy.” 
Valentino can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 
“It’s not funny,” Marc says, almost whines. “It’s a tax thing. Between all the time I spend here, and time at the factory—not enough in Spain, apparently.”
Shrugging, Valentino taps one finger on the table. “We could get married.” 
Marc snorts. “Would that help?”
“I don’t know. I am very bad to ask about tax advice, remember?”
“Me too.” Marc stabs a piece of his salad—viciously, in Valentino’s opinion. 
“Don’t frown. It will be okay.”
“I can hide here. It is difficult for you to be in Madrid.”
“It will be okay,” Valentino repeats. “And remember, we can always get married.”
He thinks he deserves it when Marc throws a slice of bread at him. 
——
iv.
Clouds hang heavy on the mountains in Spielberg, threatening rain but holding off for now. Valentino leaves Luca with a last pat on the shoulder, weaving his way up the grid towards Franky’s starting spot.
It’s slow going, stopped every few steps, shaking hands with people he recognises, people he doesn’t.
“Valentino—Valentino!”
It’s Laverty, and Valentino doesn’t mind that because he doesn’t tend to ask stupid questions. He indulges the interview, long past acceptance of the fact that he built his own mythos and will never be left alone for the rest of his life. Yes, he’s doing well, thank you. Yes, it’s nice to be on the grid. Yes, he’s proud of his boys. Yes, he’s still enjoying racing with BMW. 
“And a final question,” Michael says. “You seem like you and Marc Márquez have finally buried the hatchet. Is everything put to bed? How did you manage it?”
Maybe Michael Laverty does ask stupid questions. 
Perhaps he should have been expecting it, because clasping hands before a race, sharing a smile under the podium—people notice. Especially when the norm used to be nothing at all, or worse.
“Ah, you know.” He has plenty of shields for the media, and it’s no problem to pull out an old favourite. “We talked. Dinner with candles. It is all going very well. Maybe soon we get married.” 
Michael laughs, loud and boisterous, like Vale hasn’t just wrapped up the truth in a pretty package and presented it as a joke. He smiles, camera-easy, and returns Michael’s ciao. 
It’s only when he turns around that he realises Álex and Bez, lined up side-by-side on the grid, are staring at him. 
——
v. 
Misano is hot, sweltering August-end heat. Valentino is sweating under his cap and sunglasses, pressed in a red throng of Ducati engineers. One-two. Red on red. 
It’s Marc who’d won, victorious in the battle of weaving-turning-diving along long straights and through heavy-brake corners. Pecco had given him a good fight, an Italian classic of a race; he’s smiling at Marc, learning to enjoy the scrappy thrill of battle as well as the ease of a flawless win. 
Marc’s shining, beaming at his team, smiling down the cameras, alive under the sun. Valentino swallows down the urge to kiss him, if only because their comms officers would kill them both. 
The podium has never seemed so long. Media obligations have never seemed so long. It’s an age before they’re alone, motorhome door locked, and Valentino has Marc, to himself, finally.
He used to think Marc was too much for him, in danger of eclipsing him, their implosion inevitable as two brilliant stars orbited closer, closer, too close. Too much light for the world to handle.
If he met that version of himself now, Valentino thinks he would shake him. 
Marc glows, yes, but there’s a brightness that only Valentino gets to see, one that erupts out in starbursts of ecstasy when they’re together, when Valentino is pushing inside him, when Marc is staring up at him like there’s nothing else in the world. 
Valentino stops, earning a petulant glare; even that’s breathtaking. How—how—he can’t find the words.
“I think,” Valentino forces out, elbows taking his weight, “I want to marry you.”
Marc blinks, face suddenly cutting, incredulous. “You are telling me this now?” He’s a livewire, crackling with sparks, hot with triumph, shooting static through Valentino’s skin. He’s beautiful. Valentino wants to see this for the rest of his life, so yeah, he’s saying it now. 
He tilts his hips, and the disbelief is gone, washed away as Marc gasps. It’s something like reverence now—but not how it used to be. Nothing that Valentino could shatter this time, even though he still wants to hold it close. 
Contrary as always, Marc winds fingers through his hair, pulls him down for a breathless kiss—and Valentino smiles into it, because he can do this, he can have this effect on Marc, still. Still. 
“Vale—” 
He’s helpless when it’s Marc. Still. Always. 
When they’re finished, when they’re lying curled into each other, Valentino breathing heavy into Marc’s hair, Marc looks up, eyes narrowed. 
“You did well today,” Valentino tells him softly, and the hard expression is gone once again, replaced with a different kind of wonder. 
“Did you mean it?”
He knows what Marc means. “Yes.”
Marc nods. “Ask me again. Another time.”
It’s—Valentino smiles again. “That was not a no.” 
——
+1 
It’s not a bad crash—it’s not, not by the metrics of this sport, not compared to what it could have been, what it has been in the past. 
It’s not bad, but it could have been: Marc, bumped wide by Acosta, unable to save it, sliding helplessly through the corner apex—and Bez, unsighted, trying to avoid the recovering KTM, sailing past his braking point towards Marc, and almost—almost. 
It’s not bad, but it was close, and when Marc is back in the paddock, when he’s speaking to cameras, when he’s with his engineers, there’s something wild about him, something faraway sitting behind his eyes, and Valentino knows. He knows.  
(He still dreams, sometimes, of Austria; not of the crash, but the feeling of it, the prickle at the back of his skull, the cold finger-brush of something not right. The almost that he didn’t see coming.) 
So he waits. Marc is settled enough, trusts him enough, to reach for him when he needs him. Valentino trusts Marc enough to let him. 
The knock on his motorhome door comes long after the chequered flag has fallen. Valentino doesn’t get up, knows Marc will let himself in.
“Sorry. Pedro wanted to talk—I am not angry, but good he apologised.”
“That’s okay,” Valentino says, gentle. 
Marc drifts, loose, unmoored, towards the sofa, folds his legs underneath him, presses into Valentino’s space. Valentino lets him, waits for him to speak.
Marc is shaking. Not a lot, just enough for Valentino to notice when he takes his hand.
“Okay?”
He’s not, of course he’s not, but it’s a door nudged ajar, an opening if Marc wants to take it.
“That was—close.”
“Yeah.”
“I was—watching the bike.” Marc swallows. “Just—that was all I could do. Watch it coming towards me.” 
Valentino pulls their joined hands up, presses a kiss to the back of Marc’s. 
Marc’s next exhale trembles in the space between them. 
“You’re okay.” 
“If Bez didn’t turn—” 
If. Almost. “You’re okay,” Valentino says again, because he needs to hear it himself. Marc’s fingers clench in his. “Okay? Look, you are holding my hand. You’re okay.”
It won’t be long before Marc is through this, before he’s smiling, before he’s raring to climb on his bike again. Not yet, though. Valentino knows—he knows.
“We should get married,” Marc says abruptly.
“I have been saying—”
“Seriously.”
Valentino takes him in: pinched eyebrows; hair flattened from his Ducati cap; pursed lips. “I think I am offended, that you only ask me after today.”
Marc pulls his hand away, the laugh jolting out of him. “Valentino—”
“And you are asking me in a motorhome—really, I would have taken my hoodie off at least—”
“Vale,” Marc groans, but he’s there, he’s smiling, he’s back. 
He can’t stop a smile twitching the corners of his lips in return. “Yes?” 
“That was not a no.” 
Valentino takes his hand again.
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peachsukii · 9 months ago
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Home Sweet Home 🧡 『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 
It’s had been two weeks since you last saw Katsuki in person. He’d been called away on a mission in the next province over - four hours away. It wasn’t anything new to the two of you, since pro-heroes were sent all over the place, wherever they’re needed. He had a week left before he was set to come home.
Your phone buzzed, his name appearing on the caller ID as you laid back in bed. A smile crossed your lips as you answer, his beautiful features coming into focus on your screen.
“Hiya Kats,” you greet cheerfully, snuggling into the pillows to get comfortable.
“Hey baby, you look comfy. That hoodie’s gotten a lotta mileage,” he teases, pointing out the oversized Dynamight hoodie you had on.
“It’s the closest thing I have to being wrapped up in you, I never take it off around the house.”
Katsuki chuckles at how much you miss him. “Not much longer until ya get the real thing. Did y’eat dinner yet?”
“Yeah, I heated up that last of the frozen dinners you made. Now I’ll have to suffer with subpar food until you come home,” you joke. You love his cooking and could never quite mimic it, no matter if you followed his recipe or not.
You can’t tell where he’s at in the video, but it’s extremely dark.
“Where are you? It looks like you’re on patrol or something.”
He grins. “Somethin’ like that.”
You scrunch your brows. “That’s not ominous or anything.”
A brief glimpse in the background shows a familiar set of buildings as he’s walking down the dimly lit street. You squint your eyes to analyze his surroundings.
“Wait, are you…?” you trail off as the realization hits you.
You throw the blankets off the bed and bolt down the hallway of the apartment, phone in hand as you hear Katsuki cackling over the video at your reaction. The apartment door’s lock is clicking as you round into the living room, the door opening to reveal your favorite hero standing before you.
“Told ya it wouldn’t be long,” he says as he drops his bag on to the floor.
Before he can even close the door, you’re running to his side, colliding with his chest as you throw your arms around him, your phone dropping to the ground while you burrow your face against him.
Katsuki laughs heartily. “At least let me close the damn door.”
“Nope, couldn’t wait.”
“Impatient like always.”
He shuts the door, scooping you up into his arms as you lock your legs around his waist in a full embrace. The size of the hoodie swallows your figure in his hold, but he can’t help but think just how cute you look in his merch and how it comforted you while he was away.
“I missed you,” you whisper, nuzzling into the crook of his neck lovingly. “It was too quiet without you here.”
“Missed you too, baby. Sleepin’ alone after bein’ used to your snoring was weird.”
You wiggle in his hold and smack him playfully in the chest. “I don’t snore!”
“Sure ya don’t. You’re lucky it’s cute.”
Katsuki takes your cheek in his hand, balancing you on his hip effortlessly as he kisses you breathless.
“Not bein’ able to touch you whenever I wanted was hell, too.”
You giggle as you run your hand through his hair.
“Well, get to it, Dynamight. Don’t keep a girl waiting.”
He doesn’t waste another second before throwing you over his shoulder and skipping off toward the bedroom, toothy smile and all.
“Your wish is my command, princess.”
i'd never take off that hoodie tbh and force him to wear it so it smells like him forever !
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janeyseymour · 9 months ago
Text
Secrets
hi! so, an anon asked for this. i had a LOT of fun with this one, and i hope you enjoy! literally not edited in the slightest because this one wrote itself and i don't have time to read over 9k words.
summary: You're Ava's friend, and that is enough to make Melissa hate you. But then, through volunteering for different events through the school, the redheaded teacher finds that she's falling for you. You have money, not that anyone knows, and when the school desperately needs money, you anonymously donate a generous amount. Of course, the Abbott crew isn't satisfied with not knowing who donated all of that money, and they sure as hell intend to find out.
WC~9.4k
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You grew up with a lot of money. You don’t even need this job- Daddy still has you covered and pays for most of your expenses, as much as you continue to tell him that you are perfectly capable of making it on your own. You have enough saved up from all of the ridiculous amounts of money you received from past birthdays, as well as high school and college graduation presents, not to mention the fact that you have a good portion of money invested into different stocks, and you’re doing pretty damn well for yourself.
Dad taught you all about personal finances when you were younger- he’s a successful day trader, but he’s always been on the financial side of business work to begin with, and Mom is a lawyer.
And while you had quite a lavish lifestyle, your parents still chose to reside in Philadelphia, and not necessarily the nice area of Philly either. But it was part of their story, and they wanted to stay close to their roots, so they raised you here. And growing up, you became close friends (maybe even best friends) with the one and only: Ava Coleman. She was your partner in crime growing up, and you never lost contact with her once you graduated high school.
You went off to school to pursue a career in education, much to both of your parents surprise- but they supported you in your decision.
(“I hope you raise the next generation to be smart,” Mom had told you. “Bring up some new lawyers for generations to come, yeah?”
“Teach those kids how to make it out alive like Ma and I did, got it kiddo?” Dad had joked with you, but you knew he was being serious.)
After years of teaching at one of the other public schools in the suburbs of your city, you decided that you wanted to come back to your roots. You miss Philly and all of the excitement that comes with it. You miss the odd odor that lingers in the streets, and the way that no one could give half a shit and jaywalked. You miss the way that you could pretty much walk anywhere, and within a few minutes you could be milling around Reading Terminal Market looking for some good eats. So you call your best friend for some advice.
“Girl, why didn’ you tell me sooner?” Ava asks you once you’ve explained to her that you want to come back to the city. “I own a school now, and I can for sure get you a job here.”
“Ava,” you sigh. “What the hell do you mean you own a school? Do you mean you’re the principal of a school?”
“Same thing,” you can practically hear your best friend rolling her eyes.
“That’s awesome,” you congratulate her. “How’d you manage that?”
“You know how I’ve been helping out at the Abbott elementary admin building with financials? Well,” she cackles into the phone. “I did some deep diving, and I found out that the super intendant of the district has been sleeping around- found hotel bills and everything on the company card for quickies. All I had to do was bring that up, and boom! I get a new title, a nice raise, and I own a school! I’ve been there for a couple months now, but there are more turnovers here than there were in the last Super Bowl, so I can for sure get you in.”
“A couple months? Has it really been that long since we last talked?”
“Since we actually caught up, yeah,” she sighs dramatically. “You and your fancy teaching job out in the ‘burbs. It ain’t gonna be fancy like that though, we don’ even got money for a proper librarian.”
“Remember, we grew up in Philly,” you remind her. “I know what it’s like. But can you really get me a job?”
“For sure,” she tells you. “With Summer coming up, I be knowin’ I’m about to get a lot of resignations from these people I thought were spicy White people but ain’t. The only spicy white lady here is Schemmenti- pretty sure she’s part of the mob, but I ain’t about to dig. We’ll have you join us next school year.”
“I highly doubt a teacher working in Philly is part of the mob,” you roll your eyes. “But if you’re serious, then yes. I would love to come work with you.”
“For me,” she corrects. “Just because we friends don’t mean I ain’t about to subject you to all of my bullshit at school- you get to deal with the full Ava experience in all its glory just like everybody else.”
“I’ve been subject to it for my entire life,” you laugh.
“I’ll reach out when I can officially accept your resume and offer you a position, but in the mean time… girl, when we getting our nails done?”
By some grace of God, Ava is able to keep her word, and you’re officially an employee of Willard R. Abbott Elementary School starting in August as a second grade teacher. You walk in arms full of boxes stacked so high you can barely see over them, not dressed in your fanciest clothes- you have a whole separate wardrobe when it comes to teaching. You know how this works- clothes will be ruined. Hell, some clothes were ruined at a nicer suburban school, so you know that some of your outfits will not be wearable by the end of the school year- or even the first week with the kids if you’re that unlucky.
“There you are, bitch!” Ava grins and runs over to you as you enter. She’s decked out in Eagles apparel, it’s all bejeweled in true Ava Coleman fashion. “I’m so happy you’re here- you boutta blow the roof off this place!”
You roll your eyes playfully but smile at her. “Can you just show me where my room is so I can start setting it up before we have to do our development activities?”
“Don’t you got people to do that for you?”
“No,” you shake your head. “I am fully capable of setting up my classroom myself- without people to move everything for me.”
“Lame,” she sighs. “I always like seeing the sexy movers your Dad hires for you.”
“I explicitly told him I didn’t want him to do that for me,” you tell her. “And I told him that if he sent people here to move stuff from my car, I would never be respected. I know how it goes around here, and so does he. So, here I am.”
The principal leads you down to your room. “All yours,” she grins as she unlocks the door.
You look around once you’ve set your boxes on the ground and bite your lip thoughtfully. You can make do with this space.
“Your team is Janine… annoying ass dork, and Melissa… mean Italian lady who is working for the mob.”
“You’re still on that?”
“Guilty until proven innocent!” Ava quips.
“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “Care to give me a hand with unloading the rest of the stuff from my car?”
“Girl, I just got my nails done, and you sure as hell know I don’t do manual labor. I’m the principal now- that shit’s beneath me!” She turns on her heel. “See you in the library in an hour!”
You report down to the gym a little before everyone else to get your bearings, and to beg your best friend to not make a huge deal about you being here- specifically requesting that she doesn’t speak anything of your family or the business. You have a relatively common last name, so it isn’t like anyone would hear your name and immediately know of your family either.
“I won’ say anything about your fam, but you sure as hell know I’m gonna let them know your my bitch and they shouldn’t mess with you.”
You sulk back to your seat, dreading whatever the hell Ava is going to say about your arrival at the school.
The rest of your colleagues make their way in and take seats in their designated seats, you still lingering in the back. This way, you’re able to see some new faces, and you wouldn’t want to take anyone’s unofficially assigned seat. Once everyone is seated you join them. You can immediately pick out a few of the names that Ava had thrown out over the summer. Janine is sitting with Gregory and Jacob, and the redheaded woman is clearly Melissa. Sitting next to her is who has to be what Ava described to as, “Melissa’s heterosexual work wife and life partner,” Barbara Howard.
The principal heads to the stage and starts her greeting in true Ava fashion- telling them all how much she wishes they weren’t here and she was still clubbing it up down at the shore, but she supposes it’s okay to see them again. And then she begins to introduce the new teachers- she, of course, saves you for last.
“And finally,” she breaks out in a grin and does a little dance. “we have Y/N. Listen up: this girl is my ride or die, and even one of you steps out of line towards her, and we gon’ have problems.”
All eyes turn to you and your red cheeks, but you give a small wave.
“Now, onto the boring stuff,” Ava sighs. She drones on about the new school year and what is going to (supposedly) pan out over the next nine months before she dismisses you all to prep in your classrooms for the remainder of the day.
You make a break for the door as soon as you can, sweater wrapped around you tightly even though it’s sweltering hot in the school- apparently Mr. Johnson still hasn’t fixed the air conditioning because he forgot which Boyz II Men song he assigned to the air system. As soon as you’re in your classroom, your sweater is off and you’re fanning yourself with a paper fan you had folded for yourself.
You continue to prepare for your students until you hear a gentle knock on the door. Who is standing there but Janine and Melissa.
“Hi!” Janine grins as she steps in. “It’s so great to have you as an addition to our team, and Melissa and I just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves! I’m Janine, and this is-” She nudges the woman next to her.
The redhead just huffs and rolls her eyes. “Schemmenti,” is all she says.
“If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to come and ask one of us. My room is just down the hall, but lucky for you- Melissa’s room is right next door to you!”
“Don’t need anything,” the fiery second grade teacher warns you. “I don’t got time for someone who’s gonna leave in a few weeks.”
You’re somewhat taken aback by her abrasive personality, but you just smile instead. “Thank you,” is all you say once Janine has hissed out a quiet, “Melissa!”
“Did you need any help at all yet?”
“She don’t need help, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “She’s got Ava on her side.” And with that, the redhead turns on her heel and leaves.
“Don’t mind her,” Janine tells you as she steps into your classroom a bit further. “She’s got a tough exterior, and she hated me too at first. But now, she’s like my work mom, with Barbara being my other work mom, of course. She even brought me lunch to make sure I eat today.”
“That’s very kind of her,” you say as you continue to set up your room.
“I like what you have goin’ on here,” your colleague nods her head in approval. “Nice and warm, kinda like my room! Well, I have to get back to my own classroom, but if you need anything, come on down! The price is right!” She laughs at her own joke before strolling down the hallway. 
Your first day at school is relatively peaceful, and before you know it, you’re allowed to leave. Of course though, you do plan on staying later because you have to finish up a few things before you’ll be satisfied with the progress you’ve made.
You see Melissa leaving her classroom, and despite not necessarily wanting to, you call out a gentle, “Have a good night, Melissa.”
She doesn’t say anything in response, just gives a short nod of the head in your direction before continuing on down the hall.
As you gather your things to leave for the day, Ava shows up at your door.
“So, we goin’ out for drinks?”
“I don’t think I can,’ you sigh. “I still have a lot of stuff that I have to prep for this, and I want to make sure it all gets done before the kids show up.”
“Girl, this would all be way easier if you just-”
“I don’t need any hired help,” you cut her off because you know exactly what she was going to say.
“Well then, I’m coming over,” your friend tells you, leaving no room for arguments. “It’s been too long since I seen you, or drank some of the good ass wine I know you have at your house.”
“Be my guest,” you chuckle as you sling your bag over your shoulder.
The rest of your development days are filled with boring meetings and time to prepare your classrooms. You find yourself a part of a committee to help with funding with a nudge from Ava.
“Girl, you don’t gots to tell them how you know all of this stuff about finances,” she tells you. “But it would be a big help to have someone like you on our team.”
“Fine. But if it gets out who I come from, I’m pulling out,” you point a finger at her. “I am not about to let my father get his hands on this and try to turn the school charter like he’s done before.”
She nods. “Whatever.”
The school year starts off strong. You’ve settled into your classroom, your kids absolutely adore you, and you adore them. You’ve spent some time with the other teachers in the school, besides Melissa, during preps, lunch duties, and recess duties. They all seem to like you, and you like them too.
Still though, you find yourself coming in early and staying late in order to get as much as you can together- you know once actual classwork starts to trickle in for you to grade, your plate is only going to get much more full. So any work that you can streamline and work ahead on, you do. The time where teachers are allowed to leave is upon you, and as much as you want to go home and take a nap, you know you really should stay and continue to work on lesson plans. Maybe you should start hanging up some of the work that your students have already done- their all about me posters and drawings. With a sigh, you gather the materials you’ll need to create a bulletin board and the footstool you keep in your cabinet and make your way into the hallway.
“Oi,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she closes her door for the night. “You know that working overtime won’t make you a better teacher.”
“I know,” you say softly. “But you know how it goes your first year in a new school.”
“Yeah, I don’t miss that shit,” the redhead huffs and starts to make her way down the hall.
“Have a good night, Melissa,” you call quietly.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell me what to do,” she tosses over her shoulder.
Wow. This woman was not easy to work with.
The next few days continue on like this, you staying later and later in order to stay on top of everything.
On Friday, you arrive early as you always do. While it’s casual Friday, and you’re allowed to wear jeans, you opt for a flowery sundress instead. It’ll keep your body temperature more regulated than a pair of stuffy jeans would. You know you aren’t doing anything where a student could accidentally destroy this dress either, so you think it’s a safe call.
As you enter the staff room to grab your lunch from the refrigerator, you hear the redhead’s low voice.
“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she challenges you, and you really don’t know why she’s doing this.
“Hm?” you hum as you grab your salad from the shelf.
“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she repeats. “Coming in here all cozy with Ava, wearing something or than jeans on casual Friday, already having bulletin boards up… you might’ve come from a nice school bonfire, but you’re here now- adjust.”
All of your coworkers’ eyes go wide at this unprovoked ‘fight’ you’ve found yourself in, and a few of them scold her. 
“What’s she gonna do?” Melissa fires out to Barbara. “Go tell on me to Ava and get me fired? Please.”
You bite your lip nervously before smiling tightly. “Have a nice lunch, y’all… and have a nice weekend if I don’t catch you before school’s over.” You leave the room with that and head back down to your classroom to eat your lunch while you pour over your lesson plans.
“Melissa,” Barbara sighs. “Y/N has done nothing to you, and you’re treating her terribly! There is no need; you are better than this!”
“Listen, she’s just another one of Ava’s minions who is going to reign hell on me during the school year. She already drives me nuts with the effort she’s putting in.”
“She may be friends with Ava,” Janine cuts in. “But I really don’t think she’s like her- she seems like she has drive and a true passion for our kids.”
“And that is what we need at this school,” the kindergarten teacher tells her friend. “We need people who are willing to put in the effort and love on these kiddos the way that she is. I already had Dante tell me during my lunch duty that he loves second grade because of her! Do not go tearing her down and forcing her out when we need more educators like her!”
“I don’t-”
“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” Barbara pulls out the redhead’s full name, and Melissa’s eyes go wide at that. “Be nicer to the young girl. Give her a chance. You weren’t even this hard on Jacob and Janine when they first joined us.”
“And now you’re like my work mom!” the energetic teacher grins.
“You don’t even have to go out of your way to be nice to her,” the elder teacher says. “Just don’t be so harsh.”
“If I say sure, can we go back to eating lunch and talking about our weekend plans?”
Deciding that you’ve put enough hard work into this week and you’ll make sure you’re in here bright and early the day after Labor day, you grab your bag to head out on time and make the most of this long weekend. You close your door and begin to lock it just as Melissa makes her way out of the classroom.
“You’re not staying late tonight?” she looks at you with a raised brow.
“No,” you chuckle. “I figured that I deserve to have this weekend to relax after a hectic first week. But I’ll be back bright and early on Tuesday.”
“Mhmm,” the redhead hums as she fiddles with her door. “Shit,” she grumbles as she struggles to get the lock to turn.
“Do you want some help?” you ask her gently.
“I got it,” she holds up a hand. “I’ve been dealing with this damn door for the last two years. Mr. J will get around to it eventually.”
After watching her fight with the lock for long enough, you sigh and pull a bobby pin out of your hair. “Seriously, let me help.”
She steps aside, arms folded over her chest. Before you know it, you have her door locked, and you’re sliding the pin back into your hair.
“Thank you,” she mutters.
“Of course,” you smile at her shyly. “Hey, have a nice weekend.”
“You too, kid,” she tells you, and there isn’t any sort of bite behind her words. She isn’t smiling at you, but she also isn’t scowling at you.
Content with that conversation, you head for the doors and out to your car.
You make a pitstop on your way home into the Home Depot- you’’ just buy a new lock for Melissa’s door and install it on Tuesday when you get there. It’s a simple fix, and she doesn’t have to know it was you that did it.
The weekend is nice. You and Ava go out clubbing on Friday and Saturday night before nursing your hangovers on Sunday together. And then on Monday, you make your way over to your parents’ house with your partner in crime for the Labor Day barbecue they always hold. It’s a good time, as it always is. Your parents are happy to see the lively woman again, and they thank her for helping to get you back to your roots.
You’re back at Abbott bright and early- earlier than anybody else besides the janitor that lingers in the halls and doesn’t do his job.
“Good morning, Mr. J!” you greet him happily.
“Y/N,” he smiles back at you. “You have a nice weekend?”
“I did,” you reply as you make your way down to your wing. “And you?”
“Always a good time when you’re me,” he chuckles before continuing on his way humming a Boyz II Men song. 
You quickly drop your things off in your room before changing out your colleague’s crappy lock. You leave the new key in the hole so she has it, and then you settle at your desk to continue working on your lesson plans and preparations.
You hear her before you see her passing by your room to get to hers.
“Hey, good morning,” you greet her quietly.
“Mornin’,” she huffs. You’ve gathered that she isn’t much a morning person- at least not until she’s had her first cup of coffee and has watched the news in the break room with her friends.
You a hear a soft, “Huh,” come from her mouth as she notices there’s a new lock on her door. “Took you long enough, Mr. J.” She has no idea it’s you that changed it. Hopefully, this starts her week of well.
Your exchanges with the Italian lady in the room next door don’t much go beyond a good morning and a good night each day as the weeks go on, but she doesn’t frown at your mere existence anymore. If you squint, you can almost see a smile. The rest of your colleagues really seem to taking a liking to you, and you’re genuinely happy that you made the decision to come work here- even if it means putting up with your best friend’s shenanigans.
Everything is going swimmingly at work until one day Ava calls an emergency staff meeting at the end of the day.
Making your way into the library, you genuinely have no idea what she could have to announce so urgently. Apparently, neither do any of the other teachers.
“You’re close with her,” Melissa falls into step with you. “You know what she’s gonna say?”
“No idea,” you tell her quietly. “I’m just praying it’s not another pyramid scheme of hers. I can’t get her out of any more trouble with those.”
The redhead looks at you curiously, but you don’t say anything else. You don’t want to admit that when Ava finds herself in legal troubles, she usually calls your mother and she helps clean up the mess pro bono.
The two of you settle into the library chairs amongst the rest of your coworkers, but Ava is nowhere to be found.
“Good lord,” Barbara mutters. “This better be worth staying after. I’m going to be late to dinner with Gerald.”
Your friend enters the library looking rather frazzled. “Hey, y’all. Listen, I gotta make this quick because I have to get to a hair appointment, but I wanted you to hear it from me before word got around: the district is trying to cut our budget, and with our budget being cut, that means they’ll cut the arts programs. I know y’all don’t want that, so start coming up with ways to get us out this mess!”
Before anyone can ask any questions, she leaves.
“What the hell?” Melissa looks angry- like really angry. Her nostrils are flared, her eyes are wide, and she’s balling up her hands into fists. “Barb, you and me to the mall. I’m gonna need a new shakedown sweater.”
With no hesitation, the kindergarten teacher follows her work wife out of the school.
That night, Ava calls you.
“Girl… you know what we have to do,” she tries to convince you to let out your secret about your wealth.
“No,” you say for the millionth time. “We are going to fundraise, we’re going to get the money so that they can’t cut it… I’ll work with Janine and the budgeting committee to see where we can make small cuts here and there to scrounge up some more money… but I am not letting my dad get wrapped up in this and be in his debts. You know how he likes to hold stuff like that over my head, and he will turn Abbott charter if we let him get involved with this.”
You work tirelessly to come up with multiple fundraisers, different presentations to bring to the district offices, and work with the budgeting committee to make small cuts where you have a bit of wiggle room. You even tell them they can cut your salary by 2% if it means a little extra money- it may not be a lot, but it’s something that you’re willing to give considering your sizable bank account anyway. You do all of this, on top of continue to work in your classroom. You’re exhausted.
You volunteer for the events that you’ve helped to organize, and so have quite a few of the other teachers.
“We are not losing the arts program,” Melissa fumes multiple times a week. “I need my prep to keep my sanity.”
“Amen to that,” Barbara usually remarks after that.
“If it means volunteering a few hours here or there for these events, I’ll do it,” the redhead tells you when you hesitantly approach her crew about helping out.
So, here you are with Melissa at the art show.
The conversation is awkward and stilted for quite some time before she finally sighs.
“You’re doing good,” she tells you. “I haven’t seen a turn out like this in quite some time.”
“Anything for the kids,” you reply. “They need it.”
“Why here?” she finally asks you the question that’s been eating at her for some time- since the first day you walked in really.
“I grew up in Philly,” you tell her. “It was time to come back to my roots, and Ava offered me a position. The stars aligned for me, and I’m quite content in my decision to be back in a city school. I can help make a difference for these guys like some of my teachers did for me.”
“For someone who’s friends with Ava, you sure have a lot more heart than I thought you would,” she admits.
You smile. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“How long you two been friends? Meet in college at the clubs?”
“Nah,” you laugh softly. “I grew up with Ava living a few houses down from me. We’ve been friends since I was the shy girl in the first grade who sat by myself at recess. Next thing I know, she’s next to me rambling on about whatever first grade drama was happening and telling me I was her girl. I still don’t know why she chose me to come up to that day. Maybe it’s because I actually listened to her. But we’ve been stuck together since that day.”
“You’re good for her,” Melissa tells you. “I haven’t seen Ava put in this much effort to something that doesn’t directly benefit her before. And I think it really does have something to do with you being here and leading a lot of it.”
“Thank you,” you smile again.
That night is where everything starts to change. Melissa slowly starts to show you the other side of her personality- the kind, would take a bullet for you if she had to side. You quite like it.
As the months go on, you still work tirelessly to put together different events to try to save the arts. Melissa even helps you plan a few, and she offers her “I know a guy” line when you’re looking for different ways to draw people in. The two of you begin to work closely in order to make sure that these events happen, and that they’re good. The redhead sees how hard you work and how driven you are. She respects it.
  You find yourselves chaperoning quite a few events- choir shows, band shows, a few school dances…
And while you’re at these events, the redhead sticks by your side through most of the nights. She finds that she quite likes being around you actually. She lets you into her personal life slowly. You tell her little bits about your life while still not revealing that you come from the line that you do.
She realizes that she’s starting to fall for you- and that terrifies her to no end. But she can’t quite pull herself away from you. Not now. Not after getting to know you and see how down to earth and honest you are with what you do- not after you’ve shown her that you’re here to stay and you’re going to show up for these kids in any way you possibly can.
Finally, the biggest event that you’ve planned, and your last attempt at hitting the quota to keep the arts program around for another year (you don’t even want to think about having to go through this charade all over again next year) is here. 
It’s another AvaFest kind of deal, but you’re able to utilize the outside part of your school grounds this year. Inside, there are smaller games, a few tables from local vendors, music provided by Janine’s ex-boyfriend. Outside though, is a whole other story. It practically looks like a carnival.
There’s a ball toss, a free-throw game, a balloon dart stand, a game to throw footballs through some holes, the dunk tank has been moved outside and a handful of teachers have volunteered to partake in it… all of the ticket stands and games are being run by various teachers and aides in the school. And the assortment of goodies around? Apparently, Melissa knows quite a few guys who participate in the food industry because you have a grilled cheese stand, a lemonade stand, a guy who’s making hoagies… she even knew a guy to come head a cotton candy machine for the event. And that’s not even naming all of the vendors.
You don’t have any assigned places to be because you’re overseeing that the event runs smoothly. So you’re milling about with your clipboard in hand, checking over the different stands. And while you expected Melissa to sit at the ticket table with Barbara, she follows you around and is your right hand man throughout the night. She checks in with the people that she knows, shoots the shit, and helps you solve any issues that arise through the night- not that there are many. You worked your ass off to ensure that everybody participating in this school wide event was compensated for their time and hard work.
“You really outdid yourself, hun,” Melissa comments quietly once you’ve found a moment to just stand and take it all in.
“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without everyone else helping,” you brush off her compliment. “You were a really big help, so thank you.”
“We all pitched in, but you’re the brains behind all of this,” she tells you. “Don’t sell yourself short. This jawn just might have to become an annual thing.”
“Oh, don’t remind me of what I’m going to have to pull of next year,” you groan playfully. “After this, I’m done with ideas for the year.”
“That ain’t true, and you know it. If something else comes up, you and I both know you’ll be the first one organizing something.”
“I know,” you sigh. But then you smile softly. “It’s all for the kids though. They deserve it.”
“They do,” she agrees. “And because of you, they’re gonna get it.” She gently hip checks you.
You blush and shrug.
“You got a real knack for this. If you weren’t such a good teacher, I’d tell you to go into professional party planning,” the redhead quips. She doesn’t know that you’ve been helping plan company parties with your parents for years now.
“It’s more a hobby,” you tell her. “I’m a teacher at heart.”
“A teacher with a damn good heart,” she corrects you.
“You think this is all gonna be worth it?” you ask her nervously. “Think we’re gonna hit the mark?”
“I’d put money on it,” she tells you honestly. “With the last events you’ve organized, and this one being our biggest success yet, I think we’ll exceed it.”
“God, I hope so.”
You don’t make enough money to keep the funding for the arts program. You’re devastated. Absolutely crushed. You burst into tears when Ava announces that bit of information sadly at the next staff meeting, rushing out of the room to try to compose yourself.
Melissa runs after you. You don’t really know why, but she does. 
“Hey,” she comes into your classroom, grabbing a tissue on her way over to you. She gently wipes your tears away. “We did our best. You did your best. And that… is enough.”
“It isn’t though,” you choke out. “We’re losing the arts program, and those teachers are going to be let go, and I-”
“I’m sure Ava will find somewhere else for them to be placed,” Melissa tries to comfort you.
“And- and we’re going to lose our preps, and… and the kids deserve to have the arts!” you cry. “When I was in school, that was my favorite part of the day, and now they won’t be able to experience that joy!”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to incorporate it into your lessons,” the redhead tells you gently as she pulls you into a hug. “You did everything you could… but sometimes at the end of the day, life sucks.”
“It’s not fair,” you whine.
“Life ain’t always fair, hun,” Melissa reminds you. “But we do our best with what we’ve been given. And now, all the money that we raised can go into buying supplies for the kids next year.”
You sigh and wipe at the last of your tears. You take a deep breath. “Y-yeah. Okay,” you whisper sadly.
“It’s gonna be okay, hun,” she promises you. “And who knows, maybe a miracle will happen, and we’ll get to keep the programs.”
And just like that, her words give you an idea. You know how you can make a miracle happen. You have to contain your excitement as the thought pops into your head. The two of you return to the staff meeting where Ava is rambling on about who knows what, but you’re itching to get out of there.
Once you’re dismissed, you head back to your classroom, open up your laptop and log in. You check your bank account balances, and pleased with the numbers, you pull up the GoFundMe page that was up for the school.
“You’re stayin’ late again tonight?” Melissa knocks on your door, purse slung over her shoulder and sunglasses already on.
“Just a few minutes,” you look up and smile at her. “I have a few emails I have to respond to.”
“Alright,” she taps the doorframe a few times. “Try to have a good night, yeah?”
“I will,” you tell her. “You too, Melissa.”
“Thanks, hun.” 
With that, she’s off, and you can go back to what you were doing. You click on the “Donate Now” button without hesitation.
You donate the first $50,000, and then another $50,000 anonymously, and you absolutely beam when you see that you’ve hit your goal and then surpassed it. Satisfied, you close out of the tabs and close your laptop. Now, you just have to wait for tomorrow morning when Ava, the organizer of the fundraiser, sees the email. You know she won’t see it tonight- she’s off the clock.
A few hours later, you get a text from your best friend.
Hey, you still holding up ok? she sends.
I’m alright, you text back. So she hadn’t seen the donations yet. I’m drinking wine right now if you want to come over.
Girl, say less.
She’s over at your house in less than fifteen minutes, and it takes everything in you to not tell her what you had done. She heads home after finishing off the bottle, bidding you a goodnight and a see you tomorrow.
You sleep like a baby that night.
The next morning, you’re back in your classroom setting up your science experiment for the day when Ava’s voice comes over the intercom.
“Attention Abbott Elementary: there is a mandatory staff meeting, right now. Start heading down to the library. That means you, Schemmenti.”
You grin as you stand back up straight and make your way for the door. Right before you exit, you put on your best neutral face.
“Damn,” Melissa groans as she leaves her room. “Tell your friend not to call me out like that. I skip on meeting, and she’s all over me.”
“I don’t control what she does, and you know that,” you chuckle.
“What do you think this is about?” she asks you as the two of you make your way down the hall.
You shrug. “For all I know, it could be that she got a manicure and wants to show it off.”
The two of you find seats at your table, Barbara arrive a few seconds later.
“What on Earth could this woman have forgotten to tell us yesterday?” the kindergarten teacher huffs. “I have things to do!”
“I was setting up my science experiments for the day,” you grumble. “If this isn’t worth it, I’m making her set the rest of it up.” You know it will be worth it.
“Good morning, subordinates!” Ava makes it known that she’s entering the library. “I have some great news!”
Everyone silently urges her to go on.
“I have no idea who did this- sure as hell wasn’t me- but, we got some donations after school yesterday!” She projects the webpage up onto the screen.
Everyone gasps when they see how much money had been donated last night. To keep up appearances, your eyes widen, your jaw drops, and you well up with tears. Acting classes from when you were younger sure are paying off now.
“Oh my- Oh my god!” you shout, and Melissa is hugging you tightly.
“So, thanks to these very generous donations, we’re able to keep the arts programs up and running for at least the next three years!” Ava grins.
“Well, who donated?” Janine asks. “We have to find out so we can thank them!”
“Who cares?” Ava rebuts. “We got what we wanted! Now back to work, slackers!”
You stay in your seat, pretending to be in complete and utter shock while everyone else starts to get up. Almost every teacher comes up congratulating you and telling you that your hard work paid off. Melissa sits with you, happy as can be, and only reaffirming what everyone else is already telling you. Only once everyone else has left does she say anything else.
“Y/N,” she grins. “This is incredible. I told you your hard work would pay off. It’s a freakin’ miracle!”
“Y-Yeah,” you match her smile. “God, this is great.”
The two of you sit there for some time, chatting about how you could use some of the funding to buy more supplies and the likes until you remember you still have to finish setting up your science materials.
“Oh shit!” you whisper. “I- I gotta go finish setting up before the kids come in!” You take off in the direction of your room, and the redhead can only watch you as you go with a lovestruck look in her eyes.
When you’re halfway there, you hear Ava’s voice over the speaker again. “Y/N, my office.”
“Fuck,” you mumble as you halt sprinting down the hallway and turn to make your way down to her room. There was no way you would be able to finish preparing for today at this rate.
“This better be quick. I have to-”
“You donated that money, didn’t you?” Ava gets right to the point.
Your eyes widen. Your cover was blown with her, meaning it was going to be blown quickly among your colleagues as well.
“Well, was it?”
You nod subtly. “But please… don’t say anything. Please. I did it for the kids, and I have enough stashed away, and-”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” your best friend grins. “Why you think I didn’t say nothin’ at the meeting today?”
“You’re the best,” you sigh in relief.
“Don’t I know it,” the principal cackles. “Now, fo’ real. Come shoot an instagram video with me to announce that we met our goal.”
“Ava, I actually have-”
“I’ll tell,” she singsongs. “C’mon. We need our fearless leader and organizer to be part of the video.”
“Fine.”
The two of you finish the video about five minutes before the kids will start to show up, and you practically sprint back to your classroom to attempt the impossible task of finishing setting up.
When you get there though, Melissa is in your room just finishing up the last station.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly as you make your way into the room.
“Nah,” she shrugs. “But I wanted to. I got the time.”
“Thank you,” you grin.
“Noticed your coffee cup was empty too,” she notes. “So I made you a new one. Hope that’s alright.”
You walk over to your desk and take a sip of the warm drink. It’s perfect.
“Thank you,” you make your way over to her and squeeze her shoulder gently. “Seriously. You just made my day.”
“Nah, that mysterious donor did,” she chuckles. “But I’m glad I could help. Have a good morning, and I’ll see you at lunch?”
“Yes, ma’am,” you mock salute her. “Thank you again.”
You greet your children at the door, coffee mug and heart both full. Melissa greets her own students, but she can’t stop watching you. You’re just… so perfect. She knows she’s falling for you hard. Maybe at the end of the week she’ll confess her feelings- no, she will. She makes up her mind: she’s going to confess her feelings to you by Friday, if not before. She just has to work up the nerve to do it.
At lunch, the conversation is almost solely on who the mystery donor is. You play dumb, and you tell everyone that you’re just happy the school gets to keep their program from next to Melissa.
“I know a guy who could find out for us,” the redhead tells your colleagues.
“Oh, do it,” Janine grins. “That way, we can have our kids make cards and send them to the person to thank them! Oh my god- do you guys think our donor is Taylor Swift?! She does stuff like this sometimes!”
“She usually puts her name to it,” you chuckle. “But seriously, I think we should just be grateful. Ava and I already thanked the person on the school’s webpage and social media, and I think that should suffice.” You really don’t want to be found out.
“I already got the guy on the line,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she types away on her phone. “I’m gonna have to make a tray of ziti and some meatballs as payment though.”
You bite your lip. You really, truly pray that her guy won’t be able to find you out. But, her people usually come through for her… maybe just this once, they won’t be able to?
“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa taps your elbow gently.
“Hm?”
“We lost ya there for a second,” she tells you. “I asked if you would come over to help me make the food, since we’s in this situation because of your fundraiser.”
“Oh,” you blush. “Uh, sure. When?”
“You got anything goin’ on tonight?” she asks. You shake your head. “Then tonight. I’ll text you my address. Bring a bottle of wine.” At that moment, she silently promises herself she’ll talk to you about her feelings for you.
You nod and continue to eat your lunch quietly, letting the conversation around you continue as you continuously plead with the lord that they don’t find out it’s you who donated all that money.
You show up to your coworker’s house promptly at 5:30, like she asked, with a nicer bottle of wine in hand. You hope she’ll like it.
When she opens the door, you have to stop yourself from blushing at the sight of her. You’ve seen her at school, and you wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but you find her attractive there. In the comfort of her own home though, she’s almost even more gorgeous.
“Hey,” she opens the door. “C’mon in. I got all the stuff ready.”
You enter quietly, offering her the bottle of wine. She pulls her glasses from off the top of her head and puts them on before inspecting the bottle.
“Damn,” she says. “You got good taste, but expensive taste.”
“I figured I could splurge for a celebration,” you offer up.
She leads you to the kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses before pouring some into each. Once you have yours in hand, she quietly raises her own in a toast.
“To this mystery donor,” she says quietly. You clink your glass with hers before sipping on the wine.
By the time all of the food is in the oven, the two of you have gotten through about three quarters of the bottle and plan to finish off the rest on her couch.
“This was nice,” you tell her quietly.
“Yeah,” she hums, but you can tell her mind is clearly somewhere else.
“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” you ask her. 
She hums again, still wrapped up in her own inner turmoil over telling you that she has a thing for you. 
“Mel,” you tap her gently, the nickname rolling off of your tongue for the first time. 
She snaps out of her trance.
“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” you ask softly.
She bites her lip nervously before whispering, “Please don’t hate me for this.” And then she gently presses her lips to your own.
Your eyes widen before you kiss her back just as tenderly. When you need air, you pull back.
“Oh, god,” she whispers.
“Hey,” you set a warm hand on her knee. And then you lean in and kiss her again so she knows that you aren’t upset with her; you don’t hate her.
“So…” she hums when you two part again. “I- I have a thing for you.”
“You wouldn’t say?” you tease her. “If it wasn’t clear, I like you too. I just didn’t think you would ever go for someone like me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowns. “You’re… you.”
“Yeah,” you laugh weakly as you run a hand through your hair. “I’m me. Shy, quiet, dorky… always working… friends with Ava.”
“Mm,” she hums as she shifts closer to you. “You are you: hard working, driven, down to earth, kind… heart of gold… gorgeous.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “C’mon, Mel.”
“I’m serious,” she tells you as she tucks a hair behind your ear. “I like you because you’re you… I tried to hate you so hard at the beginning of the year, and I just… couldn’t.”
“Oh yeah?” you ask her.
“Nope. From the moment I found out you were the one that changed my lock and fixed my door,” she admits.
Your eyes widen slightly at that confession. “You knew?”
“I thanked Mr. J that day, and he told me it wasn’t him,” she shrugs. “That he saw you come in early with a bag from Home Depot. I put two and two together.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “You could’ve told me you knew.”
“There was never a right time for it,” she chuckles. “But I figure now is the right time to say thank you the way I wanted to then.” She kisses you again.
That night, the two of you talk over how you’re going to continue on with this little… situation you’ve found yourselves in. You’ll take it slow. You bid her a goodbye with a lingering kiss before climbing into your car and heading back to your house.
Sleep washes over you easily that night, content with what had just happened at Melissa’s. 
The next day continues on as it normally does, although when no one is around in the corner that your classrooms are in, the redhead will sneak into your room and kiss you passionately. She’s found that she quite likes kissing you, and you don’t mind one bit. She hasn’t heard any news from her guy, and you feel like you’re in the clear. They won’t find you out. 
But come the following day, as you’re sitting in the break room with Janine, Gregory, Jacob, and Barbara, the redhead comes storming in.
“You!” she points a finger at you. In her other hand is a stack of papers.
You practically jump out of your skin when you hear her booming voice. “Me?” you whisper.
“When the hell were you gonna tell us who you really were?!”
“Melissa,” Barbara furrows her brows. “It is too early for this.”
“No, I think now’s a great time for this. When the hell were you gonna tell us that you were the donor?! When were you gonna tell us that your Y/N, daughter of one of the most famous day traders and one of the most prestigious lawyers in the area?!”
You turn bright red, and you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.
“What?” Janine gasps. “Melissa, you have to-”
“See for yourselves!” She throws the papers in her hands on one of the tables.
The rest of your friends gather around to look at the papers. There’s a screenshot of the transaction with your name, and then there are a few papers from an article that ran a couple of years ago about one of your dad’s parties and being able to secure a deal. In the image, you’re in the background drinking a glass of wine next to your mother. They all look to you with wide eyes.
“Wow,” Jacob whistles. 
“When the hell were you gonna tell us?” Melissa asks you again. “You know the trouble I had to go through to get this information? How much deep diving I did once I saw your name? You coulda saved me a trip to the grocery store and hours of cooking and cleaning if you would’ve just fessed up!”
“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wipe at your tears and make your way out. You head back to your classroom, coffee abandoned at your seat, and lock the door. You keep it locked despite the various knocks that come and go to check on you after your quick exit. 
“Melissa,” Barbara tries to calm her friend down. “I know you’re frustrated that you went through all of that effort, but… Y/N was doing it out of the goodness of her heart, and she clearly didn’t want to be found out.”
“I know,” the redhead sighs once her fire has died down a bit. “I was too hard on her, wasn’t I?”
“I’d say so,” the kindergarten teacher admits.
“Shit,” she mutters. “I gotta fix this.”
You only unlock it when you know it’s time for your students to start arriving, but you don’t dare go stand at your door like you usually do. You don’t want to face Melissa- not yet. You don’t think you can. You’ve only just started to explore what could happen between the two of you, and you’ve already ruined it by not telling her who you were. You avoid her for the morning.
Come lunchtime, you don’t even bother to head into the break room. You just suppose a granola bar from the stash that you have in your room will have to suffice and hold you over until you can go home today.
You lay your head down on your desk- it’s pounding because you didn’t get to finish your caffeinated drink.
You hear her boots against the floor before you can see her. You think she’s just going to pass by your door and head into her own room, but she stops in your doorway. In her hands, she has a mug full of coffee, your lunch, and dozens of handmade cards from the students.
“Hey,” she says gently.
You don’t answer. She makes her way into the room and sets everything on your desk before she makes herself comfortable.
“Eat,” she instructs.
“Not hungry,” you shrug.
“Then at least drink the coffee I made you,” she tries. “I know you get headaches when you don’t have enough caffeine in your system.”
You shrug. She raises her eyebrows though, and you meekly reach for the cup. “Thanks."
“The kids all made you cards,” she tells you gently. “Thanking you.”
You look at them with a sad smile.
“The staff put some cards in there too.”
“That’s nice,” you say numbly.
“C’mon, hun,” she sighs as she lays a warm hand on your shoulder. “This stuff normally makes you happy.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, resigned. “But I fucked up. I didn’t tell you who I was, and now you’re mad at me, and I probably ruined whatever we have goin’ on here. I’ll pay you back for the money you spent on the food by the way.”
“No need for that,” she waves you off. “Was I pissed when I saw your name on that paper? When I realized who you actually were? Yeah. A little. But… you single-handedly saved our arts program. You organized all of the events, and then when that wasn’t enough, you donated so much that we get to keep that program for at least the next five years.”
“Yeah, for the kids,” you sigh. “It’s all for them.”
“And besides,” she chuckles quietly. “If I didn’t have to make that food, I probably wouldn’t have kissed you that night, I woulda found out who you were before tellin’ you how I felt, and then I really would’ve been pissed with you, and what we have going on here wouldn’t have happened.”
You shrug. “I ruined it though.”
“You didn’t ruin nothin’. I’m not mad anymore, and I’m sorry I was as hard on you as I was,” she promises you gently. “I still like ya. I still wanna see where this goes, if you do.”
You look up at her, glassy eyes and all. “Really?”
“Yeah, hun. If this showed me anything, it’s that you’re a really good person, and I made a really good choice fallin’ for you.”
You blink a few times in disbelief. So you didn’t ruin this. You still have Melissa in your life- she doesn’t hate you.
“Do you wanna see where this goes?”
“I do,” you say softly.
Her lips meet yours, and you only part when you hear a collective gasp from the teachers who had quietly followed Melissa down to ensure that she wasn’t going to cause any fights.
The two of you pull back, cheeks red.
“Uh, surprise?” you say nervously.
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