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dazevi · 5 months ago

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CHAPTER ONE: GHOST IN THE ROOM

heart to heart series | vi x fem!reader

synopsis: with the tour coming to an end, vi's manager insists on the band taking a break. meanwhile, you help your best friend, mel, with planning her wedding.

content warnings: MDNI. angst (lots of it), slightly suggestive, rockstar!vi, writer!reader, eventual exes to lovers (more like exes to fwb to lovers), no smut but mentions of sex, jaymel cameo, bestfriend!mel, time skips, mentions of alcohol and smoking

wc: 11,388 (about—i made some edits lol)

note: good morning!! (its morning where i am) this is my first time writing a series so feedback would be very much appreciated—would love to hear what you guys think!!! also i had some trouble deciding if i wanted to write jayvik or jaymel but i felt like mel would’ve been more fitting for reader to have as a best friend lol anyways here is the first chapter! i hope you all enjoy!!! (fanart by bunimint_ on ig)

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The hum of the venue echoed faintly through the backstage room, muffled by layers of concrete and steel.

The crowd had been electric tonight, their cheers and screams still ringing faintly in Vi’s ears as she sat on the small stool in front of a mirror. Her guitar sat propped against the brick wall behind her, its strings still vibrating in her memory from the final chords of the night. The air in the room smelled faintly of sweat and smoke, the residue of adrenaline and effort clinging to her skin.

The band was as much a family as it was a group of musicians. While Vi stands in front, Ekko was on lead guitar, the youngest of them but by far the most electric on stage, shredding solos and occasionally stepping up to rap when a song called for it. Then there was Steb on drums. He didn’t talk much, but he didn’t really need to. He was a crucial part of the band already and quite creative with his beats. And on bass was Loris, a big guy with a bigger heart, who filled every song with lines that could shake the floor of any venue.

But she was alone now, the rest of the band off celebrating the end of the tour, their laughter faint in the distance, just past the door. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her—flushed cheeks, damp hair sticking to her temples, her tank top slightly wrinkled. Her chest rose and fell steadily, but her mind wasn’t calm.

Not really.

She reached up to push a strand of hair from her face when her fingers brushed against the cool silver chain around her neck.

Her hand stilled.

The necklace felt heavy on her neck as always, but she hardly thought about anymore.

Tonight, for some reason, it felt heavier. Vi tugged gently at it, pulling the necklace out from under her shirt to let it fall against her chest. They glimmered faintly in the dim backstage light, catching her eye like they always had.

She stared at them for a long moment, her throat tightening.

She hadn’t thought about it—about you—in a while.

Or… maybe that wasn’t true.

Maybe she’d just gotten better at pretending she didn’t.

But now, with the adrenaline of the stage fading away and the silence of the backstage room settling in, it hit her all over again.

Six years had passed since graduating high school. She remembers all the memories that came with it—that came with being with you—as if they happened yesterday.

But, three years.

It had been three years since the two of you had broken up, and Vi still couldn’t let go of this last piece of you. She told herself it was just a necklace, just a reminder of a time when life seemed simple, but deep down she knew it was more than that.

It was a lifeline to a past she hadn’t entirely made peace with—a time when the world didn’t feel quite so big, and her dreams hadn’t come at the cost of losing you.

She blinked at her reflection, her jaw tightening as her fingers played with the rings. The memories came flooding back despite her best efforts to push them down. The nights spent tangled up together in her room, the sound of your laugh as you teased her for pretending to know how to play certain songs when she wanted to impress you, the way you always smelled faintly of lavender and paper from all those books you carried around and loved so much. God, she could almost hear your voice if she closed her eyes, could almost feel the way your hands used to cup her face when you kissed her.

But you weren’t here. And you hadn’t been for years.

Vi exhaled shakily, letting the necklace fall back against her chest. She rubbed her hands over her face, her calloused fingers catching slightly on her damp skin.

She tried to tell herself this was what she wanted—what she had worked so hard for. The sold-out shows, the screaming fans, the endless crowds. It had been her dream for as long as she could remember.

But the truth was, none of it felt quite as fulfilling as she thought it would. Not without you.

The buzz of her phone on the dressing table broke her train of thought. She glanced at it, the screen lighting up with a text from Ekko reminding her to join them at the bar. She hesitated, her gaze drifting back to the mirror.

For a quick moment, she thought about it—thought about texting you. Maybe, calling you. Just to say hi. Just to hear your voice again, even if only through the cold distance of a phone call.

But she knew better. You had probably already moved on, or at least, you deserved to.

Vi stood slowly, adjusting the chain so it tucked back under her shirt, hidden from view. She ran a hand through her hair and grabbed her jacket, shrugging it on. As she walked out of the room, she felt the rings press lightly against her chest.

The party the next night was loud, chaotic, and everything it should have been to celebrate the end of a year-long tour. Vi found herself tucked into a corner of the room, a half-empty beer bottle in her hand as she watched her bandmates laugh and shout over the music. People swarmed around them—fans, industry suits, and a few familiar faces from the tour circuit.

It was exactly what she used to love, the kind of scene she’d dreamed about when she first picked up a guitar in her mom’s garage. But tonight, it all felt hollow.

She plastered on a grin when someone approached, making small talk she wouldn’t remember later, pretending the music wasn’t giving her a headache.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the celebration. She should have been celebrating. A year long tour. Ninety shows. Sold-out venues in cities she never thought she’d even visit, let alone play in.

But now that it was over, the rush was fading.

Vi’s manager had pulled the band aside after the final show, giving them a rundown of what came next.

Or rather, what didn’t come next.

“You’ve earned it,” the manager had said, looking around at the group. “Take a break. Go home. Recharge. You’ve been going non-stop for years. You deserve this.”

Home. The word lingered in Vi’s mind. It felt heavy and unfamiliar.

She sipped her beer and glanced around the party again. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives, but Vi felt detached, like she was watching it all through a screen.

The truth was, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. This band, for the time being, had been her life. The shows, the music, the adrenaline—it all kept her moving forward, kept her distracted.

But now? Now she was being told to stop.

Her fingers brushed against the chain around her neck, hidden beneath her shirt. She’d done it out of habit, her thumb grazing the spot where the rings rested against her skin. She swallowed hard, her jaw tightening as she felt some sort of pain swell in her chest. She pushed it down, forcing herself to focus on the noise and the people around her.

When a girl caught her eye across the room—pretty, confident, the kind of girl who wouldn’t ask too many questions—Vi didn’t hesitate.

She let the girl take her hand and pull her upstairs to some empty room in the penthouse suite. It was mechanical by now, second nature. She knew what to say, where to touch, how to make it seem like she was present when, in truth, her mind was somewhere else.

Or rather, with someone else.

It always ended the same way.

Vi closed her eyes, and it was you. There was no one else she could think of other than you.

It didn’t help that every time she hovered over someone else, her necklace would dangle just in front of her, and she’d look down and catch a glimpse of you beneath her, all pretty and waiting, with eyes full of love and warmth—the very eyes she fell in love with again and again. Every laugh, every touch, every kiss—it was you she conjured up in her mind.

But it never lasted.

Reality always came crashing back when the girl whispered her name in a way that had no effect on her or when she clung to her a little too tightly, too roughly.

When it was over, Vi sat silently by the bed, pulling on her shirt, avoiding eye contact.

“Can you stay?” the girl asked softly.

“No,” Vi shook her head, grabbing her jacket. She never stayed. She never left her number. And she never looked back.

Walking out into the cold night air, Vi lit a cigarette with trembling hands.

She thought about you—again. She thought about the way you used to smile at her, how your fingers used to trail through her hair when she rested her head in your lap, how you’d call her name so softly that it felt like she was listening to her favorite song. The ache in her chest was unbearable, but it was the only thing that reminded her she was still alive.

Since the breakup, Vi had grown bitter, the world feeling heavier with each passing day. She hadn’t felt truly happy in years, hadn’t laughed the way she used to.

So she buried herself into anything that could distract her—work, music, and nights like this one.

But it was useless.

Because no matter how far she ran, how many strangers she kissed, or how loud the music played, she always had you in her mind.

Always you. Only you.

To the little town she used to call home. To the life she’d walked away from when she chose this one.

And for the first time in a long time, Vi wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice.

The chime of the bell above the flower shop door rang faintly as a customer left, and you glanced up from where you sat behind the counter, absentmindedly wrapping a bouquet of daisies in soft brown paper. The shop smelled sweet and earthy—comforting in a way that nothing else had been for the past few years.

It had been your mom’s idea for you to work here after you graduated college, though you hadn’t exactly protested. It was a nice job to have. Stress free. Relaxing. Arranging flowers, chatting with customers, and helping with orders had its own kind of peace.

You figured it would be nice way to pass some time while saving up money for your own shop—a book shop.

But some time has passed now, and all you’ve got to do is find the courage to go downtown and lease out that nice empty spot by the town gardens.

But, you decide to put that off for next month. Maybe after the wedding.

Your degree in literature had been the culmination of years of dreaming, of late nights spent pouring over books and writing short stories that no one else ever read. And for a while, everything felt like it was falling into place. That book—the one you poured your soul into, the one that had felt like ripping your heart out to write—had done surprisingly well. It wasn’t a bestseller, but it had been enough. Enough to make you believe you were on the right path, to reassure you that the sacrifices had been worth it.

But now, the blank pages in your notebook always stared back at you, mocking. The words didn’t come as easily as they used to. It wasn’t writer’s block, not exactly—it was something deeper. A lack of fire, you called it. And you told yourself that the flower shop was just a temporary stop, a place to regroup until the inspiration came back.

But part of you worried it never would.

As you finished tying a ribbon around the bouquet, your gaze drifted to the small bookshelf by the window. Copies of your book sat there, stacked neatly, the cover facing out. Your mom kept them in stock, proud and supportive as always, even if the sight of them made you wince. Every time you looked at it, you remembered how much of yourself you’d poured into that story—how you’d been told it was heartbreaking and beautiful, and yet writing it had felt like stitching up a wound that refused to heal.

You always tried not to think about who had inspired it.

But of course, you failed. You always did.

Some days, it was easier to pretend that part of your life hadn’t happened, to bury it under layers of routine and busy nights. Other days, it hit you out of nowhere—a song on the radio, a laugh in a movie, the way a stranger’s voice pitched just so.

And suddenly, you’d be back there.

Back to her.

The chime of the bell rang again, snapping you out of your thoughts as a new customer stepped in. You forced a polite smile, brushing your hands against your apron. The shop was warm and safe, a place where you could hide from the rest of the world.

But somewhere out there, the rest of the world kept moving—just as it had for Vi.

You remembered the day you saw that headline.

You hadn’t expected to see it, but there it was—Violet Lanes Spotted Dining With Famous Actress Caitlyn Kiramman—in bold, glaring letters across the entertainment news section of your phone screen.

The date on the article was just two weeks after your breakup, and it felt like the universe had decided to make sure you never forgot. You could still remember the way your heart sank as you read it, like the air was suddenly sucked out of your lungs, leaving you breathless and dizzy.

You’d known about Vi’s fame, how it grew quickly when she started making music professionally, of course—how could you not? She was a rockstar, her face plastered everywhere, her name trending almost daily.

But this… this was different.

Caitlyn Kiramman was an actress with a reputation that preceded her, a star on a different level entirely. Vi was supposed to be with you—at least, you thought so, at the time. But as you read through the details, the pictures of Vi smiling across the table at Caitlyn, her arm casually draped around the actress’s shoulders, something inside you snapped. It was the first time, in the aftermath of everything, that you’d truly felt like you’d lost her.

You tried to dismiss the burning ache in your chest. After all, you hadn’t exactly been an innocent party in your breakup. You had your reasons for walking away, too.

But seeing Vi so effortlessly move on, laughing and drinking wine with someone like Caitlyn—someone who could stand next to her in the spotlight without being swallowed by it—hit you harder than you expected.

It wasn’t jealousy, not really.

It was just you realizing that Vi had stepped into a world without you, just as you had stepped into one without her.

You thought about calling her, but you didn’t.

The last time you’d spoken, you’d said what needed to be said, even if it hadn’t felt like it at the time. You had told yourself you were better off, that you deserved more than being constantly second place to her career.

You didn’t want to call. Instead, you buried yourself in your work, threw yourself into your job, and started writing stories that felt too hollow to ever really be finished. You kept your distance from everything that reminded you of her, trying to forget the feeling of her hand in yours, the sound of her voice when she’d whisper your name in that low, raspy tone that made your heart flutter.

Maybe Vi was happy. Maybe she had found someone else who could give her the things you couldn’t. The thought hit you harder than it should, but you couldn’t stop it.

You thought about the necklace—the one Vi had worn, the one that had been yours too, back in high school. Your fingers traced the small silver chain around your neck, the one you hadn’t taken off since that night you two shared it.

Had she kept hers? You wondered, for the briefest second, if she still thought about you.

But you had no way of knowing. You hadn’t heard from her in years, and you had convinced yourself that it was for the best.

The familiar sound of the bell above the shop’s door jingled softly as your mom stepped out from the back room, balancing a couple of boxes in her arms. She looked like she’d been at it for hours, strands of her hair falling from the bun on top of her head.

“Sweetheart,” she said, setting the boxes down on the counter with a thud. “Mel’s going to call about the flowers soon. You know how particular she can be about the arrangements.”

You sighed, pausing mid-wrap on a bouquet of white roses and eucalyptus.

“I know, Mom,” you muttered, though you couldn’t quite keep the smile off your face.

Mel had been one of your closest friends since high school, and if anyone had a reason to be particular, it was her. She deserved the perfect wedding, after all.

“She’s already called three times this week about those centerpieces. I’m pretty sure I know her vision better than she does at this point.”

Your mom laughed softly, brushing her hands on her apron. “She’s just excited. It’s a big day.”

She gave you a knowing look, the kind that said she wasn’t just talking about Mel.

Before you could respond, the phone behind the counter buzzed, cutting through the silence of the shop. You reached for it instinctively, already knowing who it would be.

“I swear, she has a sixth sense for these things,” you mumbled as you picked up the receiver.

“Hello, Lane Florals, how can I help—”

“Don’t even start with the formalities, I know it’s you,” came Mel’s voice, bright and slightly exasperated on the other end. “And I know I’ve already called you a million times this week, but I need to talk about the bouquets again. Jayce thinks we’re good, but I’m having second thoughts about the hydrangeas.”

You let out a dramatic groan, though you couldn’t help the laugh that followed. “Mel, you’ve gotta stop stressing. You’re going to make me go gray before your wedding day. What’s wrong with the hydrangeas now?”

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. “I just feel like they don’t have the right… feeling. Maybe we should go with lilies? Or peonies? Or—oh! Do you think we could mix in some sunflowers? Jayce looooves sunflowers.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, glancing over at your mom, who was now suppressing a grin as she watered the potted plants by the window.

“Mel, we’re two weeks away from the wedding,” you said gently. “If we keep changing things, you’re not going to have any flowers at all.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Mel sighed dramatically. “You’re right. Ugh, you’re right. I’m just overthinking it. I’m sorry, I’ll stop being such a pain your ass.”

“You’re not a pain,” you said, softening. “You’re just… a perfectionist. But it’s all going to be perfect, I promise. The hydrangeas are beautiful, and they’re going to look amazing with everything else. Trust me. I’ll throw in some sunflowers, too, for Jayce.”

Mel let out a small, relieved laugh. “Thanks, babe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Lose your mind, probably,” you teased, leaning back against the counter. “But seriously, you’re going to be fine. And as your maid of honor, I think you should take my advice and roll with it.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, and you could hear the smile in her voice. “Oh, and don’t forget, you promised to help me with the seating chart this weekend.”

“I know, I know,” you assured her, though the thought of wrangling that seating chart made you want to pour yourself a strong drink. “I’ll see you Saturday, okay?”

“Okay. Love you!” she said quickly before hanging up.

You set the phone down with a sigh, turning to your mom, who was now watching you with an amused expression. “Hydrangeas again?” she asked.

“Hydrangeas,” you confirmed with a laugh, shaking your head. “I swear, if I hear the word one more time, I’m going to lose it.”

But despite the teasing, you felt nothing but warmth for Mel. She was one of the few people who had stuck by you through everything, and seeing her so happy with Jayce was something you couldn’t begrudge, no matter how stressful wedding planning had become.

You glanced at the calendar on the wall, your thoughts drifting briefly, as they so often did, to Vi.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

At least, that’s what Vi had told you when she kissed you goodbye at the airport years ago, both of you standing on the edge of the new chapter—her with her band’s first big break, and you heading off to college.

She had cupped your face, her calloused hands warm against your cheeks, and promised, “We’ll make it work. You and me, we’re solid, baby. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

But it did.

You used to call everyday. Text everyday. It was so often that Vi would fall asleep on the phone every night, to the sound of your voice, telling her how much you missed her. You’d do the same, too.

But the calls that used to stretch into the early hours of the morning grew shorter and less frequent.

At first, Vi always made time for you, even if she was in the middle of nowhere, some dingy tour bus parked at a rest stop. She’d stay on the line, her gravelly voice cutting through the static as she told you about the show that night or the funny thing Ekko had done to annoy Steb. And you’d tell her about your classes, your professors, the friends you were making in your lit program. She also always used to mention you in interviews when people would ask the band if they were single or whatever.

And Vi would always say, “I’ve actually got a girl waiting for me back at home,” with cheekiest smile she could throw on.

For a while, it was enough.

But then the band’s success started to pick up, and Vi’s world got louder, busier. The calls started to come later and later—or sometimes not at all.

You’d stay up, staring at your phone, waiting for it to ring, only to wake up hours later with an empty inbox and a dull ache in your chest.

And the texts? They dwindled too.

You used to send each other everything—pictures, inside jokes, songs that reminded you of each other.

Days would pass before you’d hear from her. And when you did, it was always rushed. A quick voice message, “Sorry, babe, crazy day. Miss you, though. Love you,” followed by radio silence for the rest of the week.

You tried to understand. You really did.

You knew how much this meant to her, how hard she’d worked to get where she was. You were proud of her, more than you could ever put into words.

But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

One night, you were in your dorm room, sitting at your desk with a stack of notes and an unfinished essay in front of you, your phone balanced precariously on the edge. Vi had promised to call after a show—it had been over two weeks since you’d last spoken properly—but the clock was inching toward midnight, and there was still no word.

When the phone finally buzzed, you snatched it up, your heart pounding. “Vi?”

Her voice came through the line, raspy and tired. “Hey, baby. Sorry, show ran late.”

“It’s okay,” you lied, sinking back into your chair. “How was it?”

She sighed, and you could hear the exhaustion in it. “Good. Crowd was wild. But I’m beat.”

There was a pause, one that stretched too long, too heavy. You could feel the distance between you, the miles and the time zones and the weeks of missed calls.

“I miss you,” you said softly, your voice breaking a little.

“I miss you too,” she said, but it sounded automatic, like something she’d said a thousand times before—who are you kidding? She probably has.

You wanted to ask her why she hadn’t called, why it felt like you were slipping further and further apart.

But the words caught in your throat.

Instead, you said, “When are you coming home?”

“Uh…” Another pause. Then, “I don’t know, babe. Not for a while.”

It felt like a punch to the gut.

“Right,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m sorry,” she added quickly, like she could sense your disappointment in her. “It’s just… everything’s so crazy right now. But I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Okay.”

When the call ended, you stared at your phone for a long time, tears blurring your vision. Vi had always been your safe place. But at that time, it felt like she was slipping away, and no matter how tightly you held on, you couldn’t stop it.

And Vi felt it too.

She hated the way things were between you, the way she could hear the hurt in your voice even when you tried to hide it. She wanted to fix it, to drop everything, fly to you and hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

But the truth was, she didn’t know if it would be.

Because no matter how much you loved each other, the distance was pulling you apart. And neither of you knew how to stop it.

NOVEMBER, THREE YEARS AGO.

It had been months since you’d last seen her—months that felt like years. You’d tried to bury yourself in your studies, keeping busy so you didn’t have to think about the loneliness she left behind with you.

But then your phone rang one rainy afternoon, and when Vi’s name flashed on the screen, you hesitated for only a moment before answering.

“Hey,” you said softly, curling up on your bed as you balanced the phone against your ear.

“Hey, babe,” she replied, her voice a little hoarse, like she’d been yelling or maybe singing too much. “How’s school?”

“It’s… fine,” you said, trying to keep your tone neutral.

You wanted to tell her everything—how much you missed her, how hard it was to fall asleep without her voice in your ear—but you swallowed the words.

“What are you up to?” You asked, bringing a hand up to rub the side of your neck.

“Nothing, right now… I’m in bed. I just finished up at the studio,” she said quietly. “It ran pretty late so…”

“Are you doing okay?”

You hear her take a breath before sighing softly, “Yeah, I’m… I just miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you echoed.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then she said, “I was thinking… I want you to come to New York.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “New York?”

“Yeah. The band got invited to this award show. It’s kind of a big deal, I guess. I—I want you to be my date.”

Your stomach twisted at the invitation. You could hear the hope in her voice, and for a second, all you wanted to do was say yes. But then reality set in.

“Vi, I don’t know. I have finals coming up, and plane tickets are—”

“Will be taken care of,” she interrupted quickly. “I’ll handle it, everything. Just say yes.”

“Vi…”

“I wanna see you,” she said, and her voice was soft, almost pleading. It caught you off guard. “Please. It’s been too long. I miss you.”

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the wall, and sighed.

It was always hard to say no to Vi.

“Okay,” you murmured. “I’ll come.”

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice brightening.

“Yeah.”

The next few weeks all happened too quickly.

Vi arranged everything—a plane ticket, a car to pick you up from the airport, even a dress for the event. You didn’t know how she’d managed it all, but you weren’t surprised. She could practically do anything she sets her mind to.

When you stepped off the plane and into the terminal, you were expecting to just follow the signs to baggage claim, look for the driver Vi had mentioned in passing, and quietly make your way to whatever fancy hotel she had booked for you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her effort—Vi always went all out when it came to you—but you figured this was just another one of those things she couldn’t be present for, one more event she’d planned out from a distance.

But when you rounded the corner toward the arrivals area, your feet froze mid-step.

There she was.

Vi was standing near the entrance, her tall frame wrapped in an all-black outfit. A long black coat hung open over a fitted turtleneck and dark jeans, her combat boots planted firmly on the tiled floor. In her hands, she held a small bouquet of flowers—white daisies and a few pale pink roses wrapped in simple brown paper.

She looked every bit the rockstar she’d become, yet look on her face told a different story.

Her eyes scanned the crowd eagerly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the paper wrapping as though she were nervous.

Your breath hitched, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes.

For a moment, you couldn’t move.

Then Vi’s eyes found yours.

Her face lit up like the sun breaking through a storm, and before you could even process what was happening, she was running toward you. Her long strides closed the distance in seconds, and then she was there—her arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you into her chest.

“Hey, baby,” she whispered against your hair.

You couldn’t respond.

Your throat was too tight, and the only thing you could do was cling to her, burying your face in her neck as the tears spilled over. The flowers were crushed slightly between your bodies, but neither of you cared. Vi’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, holding you like she was afraid you might disappear.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands cupping your face as she scanned your features like she needed to memorize them all over again.

She let out a breathy sigh, a smile making its way onto her face, “God, you’re even prettier than I remember.”

You let out a watery laugh, wiping at your cheeks with trembling fingers.

“Shut up,” you teased, though your voice wavered.

Vi grinned, a little sheepishly, and handed you the now slightly crumpled bouquet. “These are for you. Sorry, I think I crushed them a little.”

“They’re perfect,” you said, taking the flowers and holding them close to your chest.

She smiled again, softer this time, and reached out to take your suitcase.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. We can go get lunch after the hotel. I know a place you might like.”

And for the first time in a long while, being with her finally felt right.

The weekend passed like something out of a dream. Vi stuck close to you, almost glued to your side, like she couldn’t bear to let go of you for even a second. She carried your bags, opened every door, kissed you in every private corner she could find.

In the the hotel room, with the city skyline stretching endlessly outside the window, she kissed you until her lips felt bruised, like she was trying to make up for every kiss she hadn’t been able to give you.

She made love to you slowly, tenderly, the way you deserved—whispering soft words against your skin, brushing stray strands of hair from your face, as if she couldn’t believe you were there with her.

“God, I missed you,” she murmured over and over again, her voice thick and quiet, spilling out each time her lips found yours. “I missed you so much.”

And it wasn’t just the being this close to you that left Vi breathless—it was everything else.

The way your laugh filled the room when she cracked a joke. The way you shyly tucked your head into her shoulder when she kissed your temple in public. The way your voice softened when you told her you missed her, that you loved her. Vi felt like she was relearning you, rediscovering all the tiny details she’d loved about you from the start—the way your fingertips felt trailing down her arm, the way you hummed absentmindedly when you were happy, the way you fit perfectly in her arms like you’d been made for her.

For once, Vi wasn’t thinking about work, about the band, about the next tour or the endless cycle of interviews and late-night rehearsals.

None of that mattered here.

The world felt smaller, quieter, when it was just the two of you.

She couldn’t believe how much she’d missed you, how much she’d missed this.

As the weekend was drawing to a close, you were lying in bed together, your head resting on her chest. Vi traced lazy circles along your shoulder with her fingertips, her other hand draped protectively across your waist. The sheets were tangled around your bare legs, the city lights painting soft, dim patterns on the walls.

“I forgot what this feels like,” Vi had said, her voice almost a whisper. “Just… being with you. I missed it.”

You tilted your head to look up at her, your eyes warm and full of something she couldn’t quite name.

“Me too,” you said softly, your hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face.

Vi leaned down to kiss you again slowly, her hand cradling your jaw.

She wanted to stay in this moment forever, to bottle it up and carry it with her wherever she went.

Being with you, she wasn’t worried about the distance, about the time apart, about anything other than you.

But happiness like that didn’t last for long and, tomorrow, it would all go to shit.

The night of the music award show was everything Vi had hoped it would be, glimmering lights, and flashing cameras. She could hardly contain her pride as she stood beside you, her arm around your waist, guiding you through. Everything had been planned, from your dress to the after-party, and it seemed like everything was falling into place.

You looked stunning in the dress she had picked out for you. It was a deep shade of red that hugged your body in all the right places, with delicate lace detailing along the neckline that made your girlfriend want to cover your collarbone with kisses. Vi couldn’t take her eyes off you when she first saw you in it. She kept telling you how beautiful you looked, her voice filled with awe every time she caught a glimpse of you.

You had always been beautiful in Vi’s eyes, but tonight, you looked like someone straight out of a dream, her dreams. She felt a pride swell up inside her every time she looked at you, like the world had never seemed brighter, knowing that you, her girl, were beside her.

But despite how nice it was all going, it wasn’t without its discomforts for you.

There were moments when you felt too out of place in the spotlight, when the flashing of cameras made your chest tighten, or when you were pulled away from Vi to stand beside some celebrities for interviews, your smile feeling stiff and forced. Every time you were apart from her, even for a moment, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of loneliness, wanting to be close to her again.

The show itself went smoothly, though.

Vi did her thing and you watched from the sidelines, starstruck and completely in awe. It was so surreal to see her like this, her bandmates by her side, to see other celebrities you watched from home, the crowd cheering for her every time her name was called. She looked radiant. And it was hard to not feel overwhelmed by it all.

But the further the night dragged on, the more it felt like you were losing her to this new world.

You felt more of it at the after party. Vi had been swept away by a group of celebrities who wanted to talk to her, leaving you standing alone at the bar.

Ekko noticed and came over to keep you company, but it still wasn’t the same. He asked about how things were at home, mentioned how much he missed eating Benzo’s cooking. And it was nice talking to him—nice to have a friend around who didn’t feel too far into the fame as everyone else did in the room.

As you leaned against the bar, nursing your drink, you found your eyes wandering back to Vi, standing across the room, laughing and chatting with some famous actress, her hand resting on her arm. She looked completely at ease, her eyes sparkling as she talked with the other guests.

But it was clear that you that were nothing more than a bystander to her world now.

Ekko’s voice snapped you out of your daze. “You okay?” he asked, noticing your distracted expression.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… a bit tired, I guess.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “You sure? Vi looks like she’s having a blast. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

You smiled again, though it felt hollow. “Yeah, she always has a way of talking to people, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she does,” Ekko agreed, grinning. “But you know she’s really happy to have you here tonight. She’s always talking about you. Can’t get her to shut up about you sometimes.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, but it faded almost as quickly as it appeared.

You stand there, drink in hand, feeling an odd tension settle in your chest as you watch Vi across the room. She’s talking to someone—a tall woman, all legs and sharp angles, with dark blue hair that catches the light in an almost ethereal way. The way the actress moves, the way she laughs—effortless, magnetic, like she’s always been in the spotlight.

You’ve seen her before, vaguely—magazines, red carpets, maybe a movie trailer. She’s the kind of woman people can’t help but stare at. Perfectly polished, perfectly poised.

And there’s Vi, her face bright with a smile you once thought was reserved just for you. But now, as she stands there, chatting easily, you feel like a ghost in the room, watching from the sidelines.

Your fingers tighten around your glass, but you don’t move. You can’t.

It’s strange, this feeling that tightens your chest, this longing and bitterness you can’t seem to shake. Vi’s laugh carries over through the party, and for a moment, you close your eyes, remembering when you were the one who made her laugh like that. When you were the one who kissed that smile from her lips.

But it all feels so far away now.

The more you watch them, the more out of place you feel.

The more you look at Vi, the more she seems to belong in this world—this world of lights and flashes, of perfect strangers who all seem to know exactly who they are, exactly where they fit.

And you?

You’re still standing in the corner of this room, feeling like you’re made of something that doesn’t belong, something that’s too small for this space.

You swallow, trying to force down the lump in your throat.

It’s stupid, you know it’s stupid.

You’re just a girl from a small town with college exams coming up and some books you wrote.

Nothing glamorous.

And Vi—Vi’s everything you aren’t. She’s out here, living the life you never had the guts to chase. You can’t even blame her for it. She’s been nothing but amazing, talented and hardworking, giving you so much of herself, even when it all felt too complicated.

But seeing her like this, only reminds you of how out of place you feel now, in her world, in this world.

“I… I think I’m just gonna get some fresh air,” you say quietly.

You excuse yourself from Ekko, offering him a small smile as you slip away from the conversation. You need air—fresh, cool, anything to clear the thoughts that have taken root in your mind.

You take the elevator down to the ground floor, your heels clicking softly on the polished floors. The doors open with a soft ding, and you step out, immediately greeted by the cool bite of the night air. It’s a entirely different compared to the warmth of the party inside, and for a moment, it feels like a relief, like you can finally breathe without the walls of the venue pressing in on you.

The city lights glow in the distance, the hustle of traffic and the low hum of conversations from nearby streets filled your ears. You pull your coat tighter around you, the fabric clinging to your shoulders, but it doesn’t do much to shield you from the knot tightening in your chest.

You stand there for a moment, breathing deeply. The cool air is refreshing, but it can’t seem to cool the heat rising in your cheeks, the bitter ache in your stomach. Everything about it reminds you of how far things have come—and how far apart you and Vi have drifted.

You didn’t want to feel this way tonight. You didn’t want to spend another evening consumed by jealousy, by doubt.

But here you are, standing outside in the dark, unable to fight the feeling.

You really hadn’t expected it to be this hard.

Maybe it’s silly to think you could’ve ever fit into that world.

But the truth stings.

You want things to be different. You want to be the one she looks at, the one she chooses. But everything about tonight has made you feel like that’s something you’ll never be again.

You look up at the sky, the stars barely visible through the city’s haze, and for a moment, you close your eyes, letting the cold air fill your lungs.

You wish things were different. You wish you could go back to when you were everything to each other.

But you can’t.

Not anymore.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Vi’s voice cuts through your train of thought.

She must have slipped out unnoticed, and now, there she is, standing behind you. Her arms come around your waist, pulling you closer, her front pressed against your back. Her chin rests gently on your shoulder, her breath tickling the back of your neck.

“Hi, baby,” she muttered quietly.

You want to speak, to tell her how you feel, how the space between you both is only growing wider.

But the words stick in your throat.

Vi stays there, waiting for you, her body warm against yours. Her hands move from your waist, softly tracing over your arms, gently coaxing you into the safety of her touch, even though you don’t know how safe it feels anymore.

For a moment, all you can do is breathe, just breathe, feeling her arms around you… as if it’s the last time you’ll feel it.

When you do finally speak, it’s quieter than you intend, barely above a whisper. “Vi, I think we… I think we should stop this.”

Vi stiffens behind you, her hands pausing on your skin.

You can feel her heart rate quicken slightly. But she doesn’t pull away.

Instead, she presses closer, her breath brushing your ear as she whispers, “What are you talking about?”

She holds you tighter, and for a brief second, you feel the urge to give in to her touch, to forget the mess in your head.

But it’s not enough anymore.

You try to speak again, but your words come out jumbled, like you’re struggling to find the right pieces to fit together.

“I… I don’t know. We’re not the same anymore.” You let out a shaky breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to explain the mess of feelings inside your chest. “It’s like we’re just… strangers now. I can’t keep pretending it’s the same, Vi.”

Vi’s hands stay on your waist, but you feel her pause for a moment. She pulls back just a little, enough to look at you, but not enough to fully let go.

You can hear the uncertainty in her voice when she speaks, “What? It’s still us. You and me. I—” She swallows, and you can hear the faint tremor in her words. “I thought we were okay.”

You shake your head, your chest tight.

“We’re not. We haven’t been for a while. And, I can’t tell if you even notice. Do you? You’re… you’re so far away, and I’m just… here.” The pain in your voice stings, but it feels like it’s the only truth you have left. “And I don’t know how to make it work anymore. I don’t know how to feel close to you when you’re a million miles away all the time.”

Vi’s arms move again, but this time, they’re softer, as if she’s afraid you’ll break under her touch.

“Don’t say that. I-I do notice. I do. I know it’s been a bit rough lately, but we can fix this… right? We’ve always been able to fix things before.” She tries to lighten the air, a little laugh escaping her lips as if she’s trying to erase the tension in the air. “I-I promise to call more, baby, please—”

But it doesn’t reach you.

You step back from her, the space between you both growing with each step, and for the first time in so long, you feel something other than the ache in your chest. It’s cold, too cold, and the distance feels like it’s swallowing you whole.

Vi’s arms drop at her sides, her hands twitching as if she doesn’t know what to do with them.

She watches you carefully, her eyes wide as you move away. When she tries to move closer, you flinch. It’s instinct, something you didn’t mean to do, but you can’t help it. You just need space.

And Vi hates it.

“I wanna go home,” you say, your voice shaking with the everything you’ve been trying to ignore, trying to bury.

Vi’s smile falters, her brows furrow as she processes your words. She takes a small step toward you, the panic creeping into her voice. “O-Okay. I-I’ll call a cab and we can go back to the hotel and—“

You cut her off before she can finish, your heart hammering in your chest. “No, Vi. I want to go back home. I don’t… I don’t belong here with you.”

The ring in her ears and as soon as they leave your lips, you can see the color drain from Vi’s face. Her breath catches in her throat, and you watch her, eyes wide, disbelief settling in. She furrows her eyebrows, her entire posture faltering as she tries to process what you just said.

“What?” she whispers.

She takes a shaky breath, her gaze searching your face, looking for any sign that this might be some kind of cruel joke, some kind of misunderstanding.

But you can’t give her that. You can’t pretend anymore.

“I just…” you start, but the words get caught in your throat, like you’re suffocating on them. You look at her, at the girl you once knew better than anyone else, and you realize that you’re not the same person anymore. “I thought I could keep pretending, but I can’t. And… I-I don’t see how we can change anything right now. I’m sorry, I—”

Vi opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She just stares at you, like she’s trying to wrap her mind around what’s happening, and in her silence, you hear all the things you can’t say.

The tears begin yo roll down your cheeks and Vi wants to wipe them away immediately, wants to take all that pain you’re feeling away for good… but…

“I need to go home,” you whisper again, this time your voice firmer, because if you don’t say it again, you might never leave.

And the look in her eyes—this heartbreaking, raw pain that flits across her face—makes your heart shatter even more.

Because you never wanted to hurt her.

But you’re not sure how to fix any of this. How to find your way back when it feels like everything between you two has crumbled into dust.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but the words feel so small. So insignificant.

Vi doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, frozen in place. She swallows hard, her lips trembling as she finally finds her voice.

“I thought we were… I thought you wanted to be with me.”

“I always want to be with you, I do, but this—” you bring a hand up, wiping your cheeks quickly. “What did you think was gonna to happen after this weekend’s over? That we’d have a great time here together, then everything would be okay? All of our problems aren’t just magically gonna disappear, Vi… You barely call. You barely text. And I’ll go back home and you’ll stay here and I… What, I won’t see you again for another four—five months? I-I cant be in a relationship with someone who—fuck, with someone who can’t even really be with me. And I don’t want to make you choose. I can’t make you choose but, Vi…”

Her eyes widen in panic, her face twisting with desperation.

“Don’t say that. I-I can fix this. We can fix this, baby, just—” she starts, her voice broken, her words faltering, as though she’s trying to pull something, anything, to make things right.

“Stop it, Violet,” you say quiet.

“No, no, just—just tell me what to do,” she says. She’s shaking, but it’s not the gentle tremor of someone trying to hold it together. It’s raw. It’s frantic. “Tell me what I need to do to, please—”

You stand your ground, feeling the anger swell within you as her frustration starts to mirror your own.

“Stop it.”

“I love you.”

You freeze. Your heart skips a beat, and for a split second, you wonder if she’s right, if there’s a chance, if somehow everything can go back to how it used to be.

But then the reality sets in.

“Are you happy with me, Vi?” You ask.

Vi looks at you and furrows her brows, confused at the question, “Of course, I am—”

“You’re happy with the way things are right now? Really?”

Vi freezes, the words caught in her throat. The certainty she usually wears like armor slips away.

“You’re happy with how far apart we always are? You’re happy that we barely talk anymore? That we don’t have time for each other anymore? T-That when I go home, you’ll forget all about me until you suddenly remember that you have a girlfriend miles and miles away, just waiting for you to call or pick up your damn phone?”

“I…” she stammers, her brow furrowing as she tries to find the right thing to say, but nothing feels right. She’s taken aback, not just by your question but by the realization behind it—the way your words cut through the illusion that she’s been clinging to, that everything is okay.

The silence between you stretches for so long and Vi fucking hates it. She hates the way you’re looking at her, as if you already know the answer she’s too afraid to give. Because deep down, she knows she’s not happy—not with the distance, not with the missed calls and the half-hearted promises, not with the way she’s been letting you slip away.

But admitting that feels like admitting defeat, like saying out loud that she’s failing you, failing this.

“I—” she tries again, but she looks away, her jaw tightening. “I’m sorry.”

She wants to say that she’s happy, that you’re enough, that she wouldn’t trade this for anything—but the truth is, she doesn’t even know what this is anymore either.

And by the look in your eyes, neither do you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, before opening them again to look up at her. Your hand reaches up, trembling slightly, and cups Vi’s cheek. Her skin is warm, damp from the tears she didn’t realize had fallen until now. The moment your palm makes contact, Vi leans into it instinctively. Her eyes flutter closed, and her shoulders quake as she lets out the softest, most broken sound—a quiet sob she tries to hide but can’t.

“Don’t,” she whispers, shaky and fragile. “Please…”

You don’t pull your hand away. Instead, your thumb brushes along the line of her cheekbone, and how gentle you were with her makes her cry harder. She feels your breath, and she hates how much she craves you, hates how much it hurts.

You swallow hard, the sound of your barely louder than a breath as you say, “This isn’t good for us.”

Vi’s eyes snap open, bloodshot and wide, her lips parting in disbelief. For a second, she freezes, the words not fully sinking in, like her brain refuses to process them.

“We should stop,” you say again, softer this time. Your hand is still on her cheek, and Vi clings to it, her larger hand wrapping around yours as though she could keep you there forever. “We’re hurting each other, Violet. We’ve been hurting each other for a while now.”

“No,” Vi pleads, shaking her head, her voice so weak you could barely hear her as she presses harder into your touch, desperate. “I don’t wanna stop. Please, just—let me fix this—”

You shake your head, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay, though they’re already blurring your vision.

“It’s not about fixing anything, Vi. We’re just in two completely different places and…” Your voice falters for a moment, breaking. “…and it’s not working for us.”

Vi’s breath hitches, and the hand gripping yours starts to tremble.

“I don’t know how to—” Her voice cracks, and she looks down, her tears falling freely onto the ground. “I don’t know how to do any of this this without you.”

Your heart clenches painfully, and for a fleeting second, you want to take it all back. You lean down slightly, pressing your forehead to hers, closing your eyes.

“Yeah, you do,” you whisper, the words like a final goodbye. “You’ve been doing all of this without me already.”

She shakes her head softly, “That’s not true.”

Vi’s breath comes out shaky, her tears mingling with yours as she presses herself closer, trying to savor the moment, to memorize the feel of you before it slips away entirely.

“I love you,” she says, words trembling as if the words are the last lifeline she has left to offer.

She watches you closely, her wide, teary eyes searching yours, desperate for something—anything—to tell her this isn’t the end.

But you don’t say it back right away.

And for those few agonizing seconds, the silence feels suffocating. Vi’s heart pounds painfully in her chest, and a lump forms in her throat, threatening to choke her. Her lips part to say something, to plead again, but before she can, you finally speak.

“I love you, Violet.”

It’s everything Vi wanted to hear, but as soon as the words leave your lips, they cut deeper than any silence ever could. There’s a softness to your voice, a finality in the way you say it, and Vi knows.

She knows what it means, what you’re trying to say without saying it outright.

And it hurts so fucking bad.

Her breath catches, and her hands drop slightly from where they’d been holding you, as if the weight of the words has drained her strength.

She shakes her head, voice cracking as she stammers, “Don’t say it like that.”

You look at her with so much tenderness it almost shatters her completely, but it’s that softness that makes it clear you’ve already made up your mind.

“Vi,” you whisper, and the way you say her name only makes the tears come faster.

She hates it. She hates how much of a goodbye it sounds.

“I love you so much,” she says, words breaking, barely audible now.

But even as the words leave her mouth, she knows they’re futile. She knows that no matter how much she loves you, no matter how much she tries to hold on, she can’t stop you from slipping through her fingers.

And for the first time, the love she’s always clung to feels hollow, like it’s not enough to keep you here.

Like she’s already lost you.

After a moment, you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to Vi’s cheek, the warmth of your lips lingering on her skin.

Vi closes her eyes at the touch, savoring it, even though something deep inside her tells her this is the last time. She wants to hold onto it, to freeze this moment, to make you stay just a little longer. But you’re already stepping back, pulling away from her reach.

“I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” you say quietly.

Vi nods instinctively, her breath catching in her throat as she responds, “I’ll go with you.”

Just a little more time, she thinks. She just wants whatever time she could get with you. Her voice is so weak under her breath, but she takes a step forward, already moving to follow, to stay by your side no matter what.

But then you stop her.

You place a hand up between you—not to push her away, but enough to keep her there, frozen in place. And when she sees the look in your eyes, Vi feels the first crack split through her chest.

“I’ll be okay,” you say softly. “I’ll call a cab and find my way back.”

It’s not the words themselves that break her; it’s the way you say them, like you’re letting her go in every sense of the word. Her heart shatters, the pieces falling one by one, and she doesn’t know how to stop it. She doesn’t know how to stop you.

“Let me go with you,” she breathes out, her voice, desperate to see more of you for as long as she still can.

But you shake your head gently, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over, and she knows there’s no changing your mind.

She’s never felt so powerless, so useless, and all she can do is stand there, watching you walk away, feeling like you’re taking every part of her with you.

She watches your silhouette grow smaller and smaller, her mind clinging to every detail—how your hair looked under the dim streetlights, how soft your lips felt against her cheek, how your voice cracked when you said her name. She already misses all of it, every little piece of you.

But deep down, she knows she’s been missing you for far longer than just tonight.

The air is damp and Vi doesn’t move. She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing there, rooted to the ground, staring at the spot where you disappeared from her sight. A faint drizzle begins, tiny drops kissing her skin. She barely notices it at first, but soon the rain falls harder, soaking through her clothes.

She shivers, but she doesn’t move. Her hands fall limply at her sides, her mind replaying every moment of the night, every word you said, every second she couldn’t hold on to you. Her knees feel weak, but the ache in her chest is worse.

She wants to run after you, to stop you, but even if she said all the right words, she knows you’d still be leaving.

And it’s her fault, she thinks. She let it all slip away.

Hours pass, or maybe just minutes—it doesn’t matter. By the time she finally stumbles back to the party, her hair is dripping, her hands are trembling, and her heart feels hollow.

You booked the earliest flight you could, and as the sky begins to lighten, you pull your coat tighter around you and make your way to the airport.

In the next couple of days, in a big headline on your phone, you find out that Vi punched someone at that party.

SATURDAY, PRESENT DAY.

The hum of soft music drifted through the flower shop as you sat at the counter, a list of names and scribbled notes sprawled out in front of you. A steaming cup of tea sat untouched by your elbow, the faint aroma of lavender and honey filling the air.

You tapped your pen lightly against the edge of the paper, squinting at Mel’s unusually messy handwriting.

“Does Jayce even know this many people?” you muttered, half to yourself and half to Mel, who sat cross-legged on a stool across from you, flipping through her wedding binder.

Mel let out a melodious laugh, shaking her head.

“Oh, you’d be surprised. He seems to think everyone he’s ever spoken to needs a seat at this wedding.”

She reached over and plucked the list from your hands, glancing at the names.

“This is ridiculous. He even invited his college professor,” she squinted, pointing at a name near the bottom of the page, “—Heimer…dinger?”

You laughed softly, shrugging. “Don’t look at me.”

Mel groaned, leaning back and rubbing her temples. “I swear, at this rate, we’re going to have to build a second venue just to fit all these people.”

“Maybe you could just cut the guest list in half,” you suggested lightly, marking a few names off with your pen. “Say the venue has a sudden capacity issue.”

She smirked. “Tempting. Though, knowing Jayce, he’d probably build a whole new venue himself just to make sure no one gets left out.”

You smiled at her, then turned your attention back to the seating chart—you were only halfway through the list. You could feel the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the shop’s windows. The scent of fresh blooms mixed with the faint perfume Mel always wore, filling the air with a sense of comfort you’ve gotten familiar with long ago.

“Do you think my mother will mind sitting next to Jayce’s?” Mel asks, uncertain. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and frowns at the chart like it’s a puzzle she just can’t solve.

You glance up at her and let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I think they’re are old enough to behave for one meal.”

Mel sighs, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “You clearly haven’t met my family.”

“Yes, I have,” you roll your eyes and lean forward, studying the chart. “Okay, well… how about this?”

You move a few names around, scribbling quick arrows to new spots.

“We put your mom near your college friends. She can’t cause too much trouble if they’re surrounded by strangers.”

Mel grins at you, resting her chin on her hand as she watches you work.

“Perfect,” she says.

“How’s your mom holding up with all of this?” Mel asked suddenly, watching you as you meticulously rearranged the tiny paper name tags on the chart.

“She’s good,” you replied, your voice soft. “Excited, mostly. She keeps talking about how nice it is to have the shop involved in something so big.”

You paused, your hand hovering over one of the name tags.

“She’s just happy to see you and Jayce so… settled, I guess.”

Mel tilted her head, studying you with a thoughtful look in her eyes. “And you? How are you holding up?”

You hesitated, your fingers lightly brushing against the edge of the seating chart. For a moment, you considered giving her the same polite, surface-level answer you gave everyone else. But this was Mel—your best friend, the one person who’d known you through every high and low.

“I’m fine,” you said finally, though the words felt heavier than they should have. “Really.”

Mel’s gaze softened, but she didn’t push. Instead, she reached over and placed a reassuring hand on yours, her smile warm and understanding. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great. And if you need anything—anything at all—you know I’m here.”

The phone rings before you can reply. You instinctively reach for it, the receiver cool against your hand as you press it to your ear. “Lane Florals, how can I help you?”

“Oh, hey! It’s Jayce,” a familiar voice greets you cheerfully on the other end. “Just checking in to see if Mel’s still holding you hostage over there.”

You laugh softly. “Hostage is a strong word, but yes, we’re almost done.”

Mel perks up at the sound of his name and reaches for the phone.

“Give me that,” she says playfully, taking it from you. “Jayce, we’ve been over this—your input doesn’t count unless you actually help with something.”

As Mel steps into the back to argue with her fiancé, you sit back in the chair, momentarily tuning out the sound of her voice. Your eyes wander around the shop, landing on the bundles of flowers waiting to be arranged, the sunlight filtering in through the windows, and the stillness of this place.

You absently twirl the pen in your hand, your mind drifting for a moment. It’s easy to stay busy here, to focus on what’s in front of you instead of the ache you don’t like to name.

“Jayce insists we keep his cousins together,” Mel said with a playful roll of her eyes as she returned to you. “I love him, but the man doesn’t understand how chaotic that side of the family is.”

“Maybe put them near the bar. That way they won’t bother anyone too much,” you suggested, earning a grateful laugh from Mel.

“Alright, I think we’ve almost got it,” she said, standing up to pour herself a glass of water.

Left alone for a moment, you leaned over the chart, eyes scanning the names to double-check the placements. Your gaze moved quickly at first, recognizing some familiar names and skimming unfamiliar ones, until it landed on something—towards the end of the list—that made your breath hitch.

Violet Lanes.

It was there, clear as day—her name printed neatly on a delicate little card, tucked beside a few other names at one of the smaller tables. Your hands stilled, hovering over the paper as a wave of something sharp and overwhelming crashed over you.

“Hey, you okay?” Mel’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You swallowed hard, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, I just—” You glanced down at the name again, your fingers brushing against the edge of the paper. “I’m fine.”

Mel’s eyes softened as she walked over, leaning over your shoulder. She followed your gaze to the card and let out a quiet sigh.

“I was going to tell you,” she said gently. “Jayce invited her. You know how they’ve been since high school. They’ve been in touch for a while, I guess. He didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

You nodded again, but the tightness in your chest didn’t ease.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow.

Mel reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“If it’s too much, I can figure something out,” she offered. “She hasn’t even confirmed with us yet… She’s probably so busy anyway.”

You shook your head, forcing a small smile. “No, it’s… it’s your wedding. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Mel, really. It’s okay,” you threw on one of the best fake smiles you could give. “It just caught me off guard, is all.”

Mel studies you for a moment, her gaze lingering on your face. “If you don’t want her there, I can tell Jayce—”

You cut her off with a quick shake of your head. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I promise.”

The words taste bitter on your tongue, but you push through it. The last thing you want is for Mel to feel guilty, or worse, pitying you.

She doesn’t seem convinced, but she nods anyway, going back to arranging the seating chart. You know she’s trying to keep things light, to keep you from feeling weighed down by whatever’s hanging in the air. And maybe you’re fooling yourself into thinking you’re not still carrying it.

But the truth is, you don’t know what to do with the ghost of her, or your love for her, lingering between everything you do.

“Hey,” Mel says after a beat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Want to grab a coffee after we finish here? We could use a break.”

You nod, grateful for the distraction. “That sounds good.”

Glancing at the seating chart again, your finger rests on the name that’s still too familiar.

series masterlist | next chapter

taglist: @norwayromanoff @killuomi @wicked-laugh @bunnyrose01 @jupitism @sawaagyapong @trulyzizi @saturnhas82moons @oidloid @mk-a-1 @pornoangelz @savedforlaterr @catrapplesauces @ishamyshaylaaa @baylegend6 @auraclus @theapollochronicles @jivimatcha @chobssss @mystar-girl57 @narislvr @danonered @mikellie @xxyourlocaledgelordxx @thalchmy

if you would like to be added to the taglist please leave a comment on the series masterlist post (its easier for me to track that way!)

#— heart to heart // series #b’s writings #vi x reader #vi arcane #arcane #arcane x reader #fanfic #arcane fanfiction #violet #violet x reader #violet arcane #angst #x reader #reader insert #series #vi smut #league of legends

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kilojulietsierra · 3 months ago

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Fun thought: I’m my head Sam must have told Jack about Mel and how she’s her favorite resident from the VA.

When Mel eventually works night shift with Jack he understands why his wife loves the new resident and is a little more encouraging to her.

Did you ask for this? No. DId I write something anyway? Yes.

It was too good to not come up with a little one shot!

~~~~~

It was in the middle of the night from Hell, the night of the Pittfest shooting, that Mel saw her for the first time.

"Sam!" Mel called out on her way out of BH with and arm full of supplies. "What are you doing here?"

Sam, who at that moment had been assiting Jack as he intubated a difficult patient, had to look around a couple times before she found the voice she faintly recognized. "Oh, Mel, hey! Are you good?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm... good. Just, nice to see you!" She nodded once and then hurried back to her zone.

"You too." Sam said, but the young doctor was already gone.

Beside her Jack had successfully intubated and stepped back, "Bag him." He watched as his wife attached the bag and waited for the nod that indicated they were good before he asked, "You know her?"

As Sam bagged the patient, breathed for him while they waited for transport to come take him to ICU, she nodded, "Kind of, yeah. She worked dayshit at the VA for a few months I think. They put her in as a secondary on nights when we were short. "Good kid. Wicked smart"

Jack gave her a nod, "We can take a red!" He called out as transpo took their previous patient, "She seemed awfully cheery this morning."

He handed his wife a pair of fresh medium gloves and took a pair of large for himself.

Sam smiled at the gesture as she gloved up, "Don't you remember what it was like to be young and excited for your new job?"

Her husband stared back at her as the next gurney pulled up, 'No." He shook his head and turned to Jesse, "What've we got?"

A month had passed when Jack came home from his first shift with the med students in his rotation.

"Hey babe," Sam looked up from her spot on the couch and put a finger in her book to keep her place, "How was your night?"

He'd already showered and put on his sweats so he came around and laid on the couch, with his head in her lap. "Med students and interns switched to nights."

Sam bit her lip and fought back a smile. She rested the hand holding her book on his chest and with her free hand combed through his hair. "And?"

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, "Long night."

Sam fought back the smile again, "Set that on the table?" She let him take the book and grinned as he flipped it over to keep her place as he set it down. Her other hand free she tested it on his bare chest, "How did they do?"

Jack took another deep breath, "Samira's a rockstar."

"Mhmm. So i've heard. Interesting how she requested a rotation on nights all the sudden."

Jack reached back to pinch her thigh, "Don't start. She is good, you've said it yourself."

"I know." Sam chuckled, she trusted her husband more than anyone in the world and would never doubt him in their marriage, but she also knew that the young doctor had gone a little starry eyed over Jack since the Pittfest incident. "How about Santos? You said she had it."

He stayed quiet for a minute, "She's got the balls, she just needs to get her attitude sorted out."

Sam stroked her hand back and forth over his chest, "And how did that go?" Sam knew her husband well enough to know that guts and motivation only got you so far in his ER. You had to be a team player, and follow orders too.

"She has to sit out anymore 'cool' cases," he made air quotes with his fingers, "She'll figure it out pretty damn fast." When he cracked a hint of a smirk that told her everything she needed to know.

"You made her run chairs all night didn't you?" Sam shook her head. "Jack…"

"She was trying to cherry pick, should've seen her face when she found out the farm kid got to do run lead on a bilateral pneumothorax while she was holding an emesis bag for a case of food poisoning."

Sam smiled as she combed her fingers through his hair, "How's Mel doing?"

He didn't answer right away. "She's smart."

She gave him a moment to expound, but when he didn't she prodded him, "But?

Jack looked up at her, "She gets flustered." He laced his fingers through hers over his chest, "Know you said you liked her, but we had some rough ones tonight by the end of the shift she was pretty emotional."

"People get emotional, you know, those of us that have them anyway." She teased and tweaked his nipple.

"Smart ass." Jack batted her hand away and sat up.

Sam bit her lip as she watched the muscles in his core flex as he sat upright and twisted so his feet were on the floor.

"C'mere." He motioned for her and smirked as she moved to straddle his lap, "Just mean she comes across as soft, easily overwhelmed."

"Because she cares." Sam defended the resident, "Open to some advise from a lowly nurse?"

Jack dropped his head back against the couch and smoothed his hands over his wife's thighs, "Only from one's that let me do inappropriate things to them after hours."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm serious."

"So am I." His face remained stoic, scowl in place. When she only scowled right back at him he gave her a smile, "Always from you."

Sam wrapped her arms around his neck, "You're on with them tomorrow right?" When he nodded she continued, "Just try and watch her tomorrow, get her on some of the tough ones, but don't watch her like… well, like you." She smirked when he swatted her on the ass lightly. "Just give her room to breath, work the problem on her own, lead her with a question if she gets a little flustered, but don't put the pressure on her like you normally would."

"Baby, we're a trauma,"

"I know," Sam interrupted him, "and I know she'll impress you, she's just…" Sam licked her lips and thought for a minute, "Just give her room to think."

Jack studied her face for a long moment and she let him.

"You trust me right?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

"WIth my life." There was no hesitation in his answer.

Sam nodded, "Give her room to work, you'll see."

After a beat Jack nodded, moved his hands up to her hips and tugged her close. "Okay. Give her room. Check." For a long moment he just held her gaze, took advantage of the calm she brought him and could almost feel his blood pressure regulate as they sat. "You eat yet?"

She shook her head, "Waited for you."

He took in her shorts and favorite hoodie, clear sign they wouldn't be leaving the house and nodded to himself as he slid his hands underneath to stroke over her back, "What sounds good?"

"You goin' to cook for me?"

"I am gonna order UberEATS for you." He gave her a grin.

"Order me my pizza from Nick's and we can talk about some of those 'inappropriate things'." She gave him a quick kiss and smiled into it when he didn't let her go right away.

~~~~~

Jack remembered that conversation the next night when EMS brought in two rollover victims, one of whom ejected from the vehicle.

"Ellis take Trauma 2 with Whitacre, King with me." He watched her eyes get wide for a moment before she followed.

It was hard for him at first. He had no trouble handing off a procedure to a student, they were here to learn and he whole heatedly believed in trial by fire. but he had a tone, a presence, he was aware of that. So, he took a step back, literally and figuratively, "What do you see Dr. King?"

The look she gave him made him skeptical, but he trusted Sam and so he gave the young doctor an encouraging nod. Then he saw it, the deep breath, the slow blink and the nod in return.

Sam had been wrong. Sort of.

Jack smirked from two steps away while Dr. King ran the trauma without one single leading question from him. At most he nodded, talked her through steps occasionally. Once they were done he gave her a smile, "Excellent work Dr. King."

The smile on her face was possibly the biggest he'd seen it yet, she nearly bounced on the balls of her feet. "Thanks!."

Bridget met them at the door to the trauma room, "We've got a teen, fell off a second story balcony, parents brought him in."

Abbot dipped his hand under the hand sanitizer and rubbed it in. "Dr. King," He took a half second and decided, 'on me." Jack couldn't help but chuckle quietly to himself when he saw her shocked expression followed by the big smile again as she hurried after him.

Nights changed after that. Santos slowly but surely developed a hint of humility and was eventually allowed back in the trauma bay, Whitacre was...Whitacre he still had some progress to make, but Mel. Mel had surprised him.

As she got more comfortable she just got better. He'd see her sometimes sneek off on her own for a few minutes and then return, but every time she came back she was on his hip ready for the next one. She soaked everything in and then could turn around and use it.

Jack found himself not just teaching her medicine, he was teaching her how to get creative, how to problem solve, how to navigate the beaucratic bullshit, how to take command and run a trauma, a code, the department. By the end of her night shift rotation that timidness had nearly disappeared, but not at the cost of her empathy.

On the last night she had even given him an order in the middle of a trauma. She hadn't really noticed until it was too late, based on the look of pure panic, but Jack had kept his face straight, handed her the instrument she had requested and allowed the barest slip of a smile.

He found her out in the ambulance bay that morning, catching her breath, humming to herself. When she saw him she immediatly perked up, "Something coming in?"

Jack shook his head, "Nope, just wanted to come check on you."

Mel looked surprised but gave him a nod and a smile, "I'm fine. Good, really. This month has been so great. I, I feel like I learned more in the last four weeks than I have all year. Thank you."

"Of course." He stuck his hands in his pockets, "Mel, I just want you to know that I may have had my reservations about you at first, but you have absolutely exceeded my expectations. You are a damned good doctor."

She looked like she might cry for a minute, "Thank you, for giving me the chance. Really, I'm so grateful."

Jack gave her a little grin. "Sam wanted me to tell you she's proud of you too. She speaks very highly of you."

Mel smiled wide, "Oh that's so sweet, I loved working with her. I, I guess I didn't know you two were related."

Jack turned to his side a little still with the grin, "We're married. Sam's my wife."

"Oh! Oh, that's so awesome, plus that makes sense. You're both so..." She made some hand motion to indicate something about him. "You know."

He gave her a strange look but nodded, kept his face relaxed, "Have you made any decisions yet, after this?"

"Umm yes and no, I'm definitly staying in emergency medicine. Just not sure where." The big, bright smile was back

"Good to hear." Jack nodded and reached into the pocket of his scrub pants and pulled out two envelopes. He ducked his head slightly to catch her eye, "These are for you."

Mel took them carefully, "What, what are these?"

Jack put his hands back in his pockets and continued to stare down the street. "Letter of recommendation, for when the time comes, I know you're not finished just yet." He glanced her way and the look on her face makes him grin, "Top one is generic, for wherever you might decide to go."

She stared at the envelopes, at the signature scrawled over the closed flaps, "What's the second one?"

Still with a grin Jack turned to face her and nodded back towards the ambulance bay and the ED behind, "For here. If you decide to stay," He caught her eye and smiled, really smiled, "Which I hope you do."

The young doctor stood with her mouth agape, the letters in her hand clutched delicately. She just kept shaking her head, like she didn't know what to say. J

ack chuckled, "In the meantime, I'd like you to consider switching to nights. If you can make the schedule work with you sister. I'd be happy to have you, we all would. I've already cleared it with the education director and admin, if you're interested."

Her only response was to wrap her arms around him so fast and so tight he barely knew what hit him, "Thank you." She squeezed him so tight Jack thought she might be shaking. "For everything, thank you so much."

After a second of hesitation Jack returned the hug, "No problem kid. It's what I'm here for." He gave a squeeze in return and then stepped back , "Now go home, get some sleep okay."

Mel nearly levitated back through the bay and Jack realized he was still smiling. He checked his watch and then pulled out his phone to call Sam. "Hey babe, yeah I'm almost done. Robby's going to be pissed." He paused in front of the doors as he saw the man in question walking towards the entrance. "Beause, I'm stealing his best resident."

~~~~~

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #the pitt fanfic #dr jack abbot #dr jack abbot x ofc #dr melissa king #mel king

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avelera · 6 months ago

Note

what would you say are the biggest misconceptions about jayce's and viktor's characters respectively? i see a lot of mischaracterization for both of them, especially jayce, and i wanted to know your thoughts.

Hmm, hard to say because a lot is open to interpretation and I also don't want to rain on people's parades if it's a characterization they enjoy, but two that stick out to me as a couple of my knee-jerk "Who the fuck is this? This isn't Jayce/Viktor!" would be:

"Jayce is Power Hungry" - This one feels incredibly baffling to me. When offered power, Jayce specifically says to Mel, "I never wanted anything to do with politics! You pushed this on me!"

Like, do people just forget that line? Mel then in her character flaw of "always wanting to be the power behind the throne" then initiates one of her most direct and, in my opinion, morally reprehensible instances of manipulation against Jayce by literally whispering in his ear that he can use politics to shape his own destiny. But she includes the fact that he's in danger if he doesn't, and she plays to his male ego by saying others are underestimating him. Game, set, match, she tees up Jayce to pursue power out of self-defense because he was forced into a situation he never wanted, and he buys the bait because he has pretty much no defenses against that kind of power play. (This is, imo, the moment the narrative punishes Mel for the most. First, by Jayce becoming an unreliable puppet she can no longer control and second, when he later breaks up with her over this moment in particular, just at the point where she was feeling vulnerable and seeking comfort from someone she cared for, just as Jayce was vulnerable with her while she was using him, before she eventually fell for him, but I digress.)

Anyway, Jayce is not power hungry. He is very much a victim of circumstance and manipulation and he is clear about that at every step in S1. Yes, he makes use of the power he's given and then a crisis makes it impossible for him to step aside, but once he has a solution for the crisis, he immediately intends to resign. It's maddening to see people characterize him as someone who sought power at any point.

"Viktor is Mean" - I've talked about this one elsewhere, at length, but I see a lot of characterization especially in fic of Viktor being short with Jayce, or whacking him with his cane, or being exasperated him, and genuinely? Footage not fucking found. Not fucking once does Viktor insult Jayce or direct personal comments at him and he has never, ever raised his hand to anyone to harm them.

FFS, even in full villain mode, Viktor's fight with Jayce, the only person he ever engages with in real combat, in the Council Chamber and at the Hexgates is almost entirely dodging and trapping. Even when he grabs Jayce by the throat a couple of times, it's about paralyzing Jayce and stopping him from fighting, basically knocking him out with a chokehold. Viktor is perhaps the least violent person in the entire show, even in his fight scenes when you actually analyze the way he fights defensively and focuses on paralyzing an active opponent.

Look, I understand snark, and I think Viktor has a cutting wit, but it's definitely an instant "nope" for me when I see fics or other fan-takes where Viktor is insulting Jayce repeatedly or in a mean-spirited way, or otherwise raising his hand to others, including the whole idea of him whacking anyone with his cane. It's a squick for me but people are welcome to write whatever they want.

#arcane #jayvik #arcane meta

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morgana-larkin · 6 months ago

Text

No one asked for this but I wrote it anyway because I can. Obviously it’s based off the line “I’d eat her ass.” I decided to dip my toe into something anal, I never thought about writing anything like that because I personally am not into that. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I have 4 other fics on the go including ‘Mine’ and ‘Worth It’! Also I noticed a couple people requested to have a reader that’s taller than Mel in their prompts, so I’m sorry to everyone that’s taller than Lisa. I am not one of those people as I’m 5’1 which is why I usually write a shorter reader.

Something New

Warnings: Smut, sexual teasing, switch reader and Mel, strap ons, ass eating

Words: 3k

“Thank goodness the volunteers get here today.” Janine says as she fixes her cup of coffee then goes to sit down. “It is so weird how we all fall behind after break when we get back.”

“Yeah, not me, I’m good.” Melissa says and you look at her briefly before going back to your lesson plan.

“I’m actually ahead of schedule.” Barb says proudly and with a smile.

“Well I’m behind.” You say and Melissa looks at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could help you.” She asks.

“Because I don’t need help, I’m good doing it myself.” You tell her and she tilts her head.

“You’re so stubborn.” She says and you roll your eyes.

“You’re one to talk.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you with a smile.

“I need help with my vents. Some of the seats are too cold, others too hot. It’s a whole Goldilocks sitch.” You hear Jacob say.

“You know if a girl came into my house and ate my porridge, and slept in my bed, I’m eating her ass.” Melissa says randomly and you all look at her with a shocked and confused face. “To be clear, in this hypothetical, I’m a bear.” She says and you all still give her a weird look. “The animal.” She adds and you burst out laughing. “What are you laughing at?” Melissa asks as she turns to look at you.

Before you get a chance to answer, Ava announces that the volunteers have arrived and you all go to greet them. While on the way there, she wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close.

“So what were you laughing about?” She asks again.

“I’ll tell you after.” You say and then reach the volunteers. You all greet them and then Ava gets them to work after a brief encounter. You and Melissa make your way to her classroom and then she slips her glasses on and starts going through paperwork.

“So what were you laughing about earlier?” She asks and you smirk.

“You.” You simply say and she looks at you.

“What about me?” She asks as she gets up and starts handing out a piece of paper to each desk.

“You said you’d eat a girl’s ass.” You bluntly say as she continues handing out the paper.

“And? I was telling the truth.”

“Oh? So you’re interested in eating ass?” You ask her mischievously and she stops to look at you.

“You know I meant that I would eat a girl whole, because I would be a bear.” She says and you smirk.

“So you’d go to town on an ass? You animal.” You say and she scoffs out.

“Go get ready for your class Y/n.” She says with a shake of her head.

“There’s still 5 minutes left.” You tell her after checking the time and you lean against her desk as you face her as she’s handing out papers. She walks up to you after a few seconds and traps you between her and her desk.

“Get to your class hon.” She says and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. You smile at her before nodding your head.

“Alright, don’t miss me too much.” You tell her and then leave and she chuckles slightly at you.

The bells rings for lunch and you bring your class to the caf before you head to the break room.

“Does anybody else think there’s something seriously off about these volunteers?” Gregory asks as you enter the break room.

“Long morning hon?” Melissa asks as you slump down in your seat and you nod.

“Not only is taking care of first graders tiring, but that Dennis guy, the one who doesn’t show his face on camera, keeps asking me out to this gross bar with like 300 one star reviews.” You tell her and everyone looks at you.

“He what?” Melissa asks and you give her a look that says ‘leave it be’. “Wait, a gross bar in south?” Melissa asks as she has a curious look on her face and you nod. “I knew I knew those schulbs.” She says as she packs the lid on her salad and gets up. “Guys come on.” She says and everyone gets up. “You too Y/n.” She adds and helps you up. “Hey, you guys own that Paddy’s Pub, that’s the skeeviest bar I ever been to.” She says and then Dennis goes to leave but she grabs his arm. “And you, stop asking my girlfriend out.” She says and they all look at Melissa. Dennis immediately nods with a look of fear on his face.

“Melissa, let go of his arm.” You tell her and you have to peel her hand off of his arm. Once she lets go of his arm you have to hold her back with an arm around her waist. “You’ve already told him off, honey.” You tell her and she looks at you and calms down.

Melissa wraps an arm around you for the entire conversation to keep you close to her, and to let other people know you’re claimed. After the conversation, you and Melissa walk back to the break room with you holding hands with her.

“So you got a little jealous over there.” You tell her and she groans.

“Well I can’t have people thinking you don’t belong to me, no matter what.” She says and you smile at her.

“Well maybe you can use some of that jealousy tonight?” You tell her.

“Oh ya, and anything specific that you have in mind?” She asks.

“Well how about we try something that you mentioned earlier?” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“And what did I mention earlier?” She asks and you hum.

“Well you mentioned something about eating ass.” You tell her and she whips her head at you.

“I was talking about killing, nothing sexual.”

“I know, still doesn’t mean that my mind didn’t go places.” You say with a smirk and she shakes her head at you.

“You’re really a wonder, you know that?” She says and you giggle as you reach the break room and sit down.

“You haven’t said yes or no.” You tell her and she snorts.

“I’ll think about it.” She says as she continues eating.

“Well, don't take too long.” You tell her and then you take the bite of food off of her fork and she gasps in disbelief.

“Are you always going to take my food?” She asks and you smile.

“I will until you stop me.” You tell her and she sighs.

“Then you’re always going to take my food then.” She says and you smirk.

“So you’re not going to stop me?” You ask and take a tomato and eat it.

“You know I won’t.” She tells you. “I take it as a compliment, you like my food better.” She adds you and she wiggles her eyebrows and you laugh.

“I do like eating something you make better.” You tell her and you hear Barb cough and you see Melissa blushing. You then lean and whisper in her ear. “I love eating all those juices you make.” You pull back and you see her eyes darken. “But yes I do love your food as well.”

“I know, that’s why you always steal my food.” She tells you and then switches her salad with yours. “There, no need to steal it now.” She says and then takes a bite of the food.

“You’re sweet.” You say and then lean in near her ear. “I hope you taste sweet after school.” You say and you hear her breathing hitch before you pull back.

“J-Jacob.” She says and you see Jacob turning around to look at her.

“Ya.” He says and Melissa looks at you before answering him.

“Get lost after school.” She says and Jacob sees you smirking.

“Again? Why can’t you go to Y/n’s place?” He complains with.

“Because I live in an apartment and my neighbours already told me that we were really loud and to keep it down next time.” You tell him and Melissa smiles proudly before taking a bite of your food.

“You can spend the afternoon with me, Jacob.” Janine offers and Jacob nods.

“Thanks.” He says.

You quietly take off a shoe and carefully bring your foot to Melissa’s thigh. Melissa flinches and accidentally hits the leg of the table and you retract your foot immediately as everyone looks.

“You ok Melissa?” Janine asks and Melissa nods before glaring at you, while you just happily eat the salad she gave you, unfazed by her glares anymore.

“I’m fine.” Melissa says. “Just got itchy, moved my leg too far.” She quickly covers and everyone nods before going back to their food.

As you all walk to the caf, she pulls you in close to her. “You played dirty in there.” She tells you and you look at her with a smile.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You tell her innocently.

“What you do to me at work determines what I do to you in bed.” She says and you blush immediately before reaching the caf. “Alright my little eagles, line up in a straight line.” Melissa tells her class and she then glances at you as you’re helping a student pack up their lunch while the others get in a line.

“Ms. Schemmenti?” One student asks her and she looks at them and nods her head. “Why do you always look at Ms. Y/l/n?” They ask her and Melissa feels heat rise to her cheeks at being caught.

“Just making sure she’s ok as we’re friends.” She tells them and sees you looking over with a smile as you heard the conversation.

“Just making sure I’m ok?” You ask her as she’s right across from you.

“Yes, I do that.” She says and you hum as you watch your class walk in the classroom.

“You know I was thinking about something. How would you feel about doing a combined movie together with our classrooms today?” You ask her and she looks at you.

“Why?”

“Well you want to show your class a movie and I need to catch up on work.” You tell her and she thinks about it.

“Alright, sure. Bring them over in an hour.” She tells you and you nod before going back to your classroom.

In an hour you bring your class over with all their stuff and they all sit on the mat or a free chair in the classroom. You brought your chair over and you sit by Melissa as you start catching up on your work. Melissa finishes all of her work 20 minutes into the movie and then she starts helping you with yours. You go to protest but she stops you before you do.

“Don’t even think about saying no.” She says sternly and then you shut your mouth and let her help you. You and Melissa catch up on your work and then you both watch the last 10 minutes of The Incredibles.

Everyone gets their things ready to leave and you both stand outside her class as the students are getting picked up or they walk to the school bus.

“Ready to go home?” She asks as the last student leaves and you nod. She locks up her classroom and then she grabs your hand as you walk to her car. You both put your bags in the backseat and then you wrap your arms around her waist before she goes to the driver’s seat. “Whatcha doing hon?” She asks and you hum before kissing her.

“I’ve had to wait to do that all day.” You complain and she giggles.

“The torture.” She jokes and you nod.

“It is, specially since I’m right across the hall from you.” You tell her and then kiss her again.

“Get a room you dorks.” Ava says as she passes by you both. You both pull away with a smile before getting in the car and she drives you home.

As soon as you take your shoes and jacket off, she excitedly pulls you to her room and you squeeze her ass on the stairs.

She takes your shirt and bra off before pushing you on the bed. She then takes the rest of your clothes off and she looks at you with a smile, as you’re completely bare on her bed. She gets on her knees and pulls you close to the side of the bed.

She dives down to your pussy and starts licking your entrance as you moan out. She then moves up to your clit and sticks two fingers in your entrance. You reach out and grab the back of her head to keep her there. She hums at that and it vibrates on your clit and you buck your hips. She does some hard sucks on your clit and you gasp out.

After a couple minutes you feel your orgasm building and you start grinding her face and you feel her smile. She lets you keep doing that even though it’s occasionally blocking off her air supply. She starts curling her fingers inside of you and you scream out.

“Melissa, I’m so close!” You scream and she gives your clit hard sucks until you come. While coming down from your high, Melissa gets up and flips you on your stomach. “Melissa, what are you- oh my god!” You get cut off as she goes back down on your knees and starts licking your ass.

Some of your juices dripped down to your ass when you came and she had no problem licking all of that up. She keeps your ass cheeks spread open as she keeps licking the hole over and over again. You moan out as the new sensation feels amazing and wonder why you never thought of this before.

“Does this feel good baby?” She asks.

“Yes, keep going.” You tell her quickly and she dives back down.

“Rub your clit baby.” She tells you and you bring your hand to your clit and start rubbing it. You start moving your hips after about 30 seconds as you feel your orgasm building. She then sticks two fingers in your entrance and you scream out. The pleasure from your clit, entrance and ass is overwhelming and you end up coming hard.

You flip onto your back as Melissa gets up and sees you trying to catch your breath. She sits down beside you and you place your head on her lap as she scratches your scalp to help you calm down.

“Why-why are you sti fully dressed?” You ask her after a few seconds.

“Because no one’s taken them off yet.” She says with a smirk. You then sit up and push her down on the bed and she looks up at you and giggles as you immediately take her shirt off and bra off. “Sometimes I think you love my tits more than me.” She jokes and you laugh.

“Maybe equally.” You play along with and she laughs. You place your mouth around a nipple and start sucking. She gasps out and puts her hands in your hair. You feel her rub her thighs together for friction and you smirk. You switch to her other nipple and you undo the button on her jeans and unzip them. You pull away and then get off the bed and then take her pants and underwear off. You go into the nightstand and pull out the harness and dildo and put it on. You get back on top of her and go down to suck her neck. “Now everyone will know you’re claimed.” You tell her as you pull away.

You get on your knees in between her legs and move her hips up slightly and align the dildo with her entrance. You slid it in slowly and she gasps out at the feeling of it filling her up. You bottom out inside of her and you give her a second before you start moving. She starts gasping and moaning like crazy as you start speeding up more and more. She wraps her legs around you and she starts bucking her hips. You pin her down and then start pounding into her. Her legs drop down to the bed as she couldn’t keep them wrapped around you with the pleasure you’re giving her. You placed the dildo in the exact spot where it can rub your clit and you start gasping out as well. You see her grab one of her boobs with her hand and you smirk.

“Rub your clit.” You tell her, just like she did with you. She obeys immediately and starts rubbing her clit and she gasps out.

“Oh god!” She screams out and you can tell she’s about to come.

“I need you to hold it in.” You tell her and she whines. “Just for a bit as I’m close as well, I want you to come with me.” You tell her. Her legs start moving all around and you can tell she’s having difficulty holding it in.

“I can’t hold it anymore.” She cries out.

“Ok, come for me.” You tell her and she lets go immediately and comes hard. You come a few seconds later with a moan and then pull out of her carefully. You take the strap off and then you curl up beside her and places an arm around you.

“You know, I don’t think I can ever let you go.” She says and you look at her.

“And why’s that?” You ask and she smiles before looking at you.

“Cause you always give me one hell of an orgasm.” She says and smirk before giving her a kiss.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

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@midnight-lestrange

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@morgananyx

@schmentisgf

@cblanchetts

@that-october-night

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #law #x reader #fanfic #abbott elementary

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shedelulululu · 3 days ago

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procrastinating my own writing my sliding into your ask box but, do you have anymore weed smoking mel/frank headcanons 🍃

oh my god do i

first thing, i actually think it's trinity who introduces weed to her first, in my mind trinity is like the recreational drug guide who uses her medical knowledge to consume safely (ik multiple nurses like this) and she just wants to make it less scary for her friends!! so she gives her like a 2.5mg edible thats 1:1 thc and cbd, because obviously mel is really worried about her lung health and trinity's bong looks scary (its very clean though!) and she wants to make sure she has a good time and isn't overly paranoid the first time (this is real advice, if you get super paranoid on weed or fear you will, make sure whatever you're consuming also has a decent amount of cbd, idk the science but it counteracts the paranoia. also you dont have to consume the strongest thc products available pls omg)

anyways, while high at Trinity's place watching some stupid reality dating show she texts Frank about it (she' tells him everything, no they're not dating yet)

mel: did you know ?!!!!!

frank: Did I know what?

mel: I didn't know my shoulders could feel this relaxed !! do other people feel like this all the time??? I'm really hungry though, I've eaten like a 5 mini bags of chips

frank: ???

mel: oh! trinity gave me a weed gummy

frank: ???????????????????????

he keeps texting her to check in throughout the night to make sure she's okay.

The next day Mel wakes up and apologizes because she worries maybe talking to him about weed was triggering (he's told her repeatedly not to walk on eggshells around him) and Frank is like lol? i smoke weed Mel. you know I don't have to be clean of everything right ??

okay NOW for the part you're really here for

the first time mel and frank smoke together it's not planned, they had a tiring and rough shift and are just sitting side by side on his couch and completely silent barely paying attention to their third rewatch of Freaks & Geeks. When the "Are You Still Watching?" pop up appears, Frank looks over to Mel and notices that even sunk into his couch, her body is still taut.

"Hey" he knocks his leg against hers "you wanna smoke?" he gets up to grab the wooden box he stores his supplies in before she answers.

Mel scrunches her nose "Tobacco is really bad --"

"Weed, Mel."

"Oh. Uhm."

"We don't have to, I don't want you to be uncomfortable"

She shakes her head "It's not -- I do want to -- I'm just not sure how? And what if I start coughing, that's so embarrassing"

He laughs at her, setting out the papers, fishing out a filter, loading the flower into his grinder. "yknow I'm not going to judge you right? you're not being evaluated here"

She pulls her mouth to one side, assessing his words, her eyes following his automatic practice, filter places on the end of his paper, sprinkling in the flower, shaping and twisting.

His eyes meet hers, "do you trust me?" she nods, "Are you okay if I touch you and get really close to your face?" she pauses for a moment, roses blooming on her cheeks, and then she nods again.

He pulls her closer to him, nearly sitting in his lap at the proximity. Her brown eyes a mix of wonder and nerves gazing up at him, it shouldn't cause his dick to twitch. She really shouldn't trust him so easily.

He grips her chin, pulling at her bottom lip with his thumb. He lowers his voice, their faces so close together he doesn't want to startle her, "I'm going to take a hit, I'll inhale a bit, then I'll exhale the rest into your mouth. You can make a circle with your hands to guide it, or I'll just --" he lost his train of thought, her pink lips pulling further apart, both of her hands perched on his shoulders.

He turns away to light the joint and take a hit, a blessed reprieve from being subject to her singular focus so close. It was a rush, unlike anything he'd ever felt before, something you couldn't grow like a plant, distill into a liquid or press into a tablet, to not only be this close to her, but to be entrusted with her mental state, her entire being.

He hovers just over her lips as he breathes into her, too scared to be the one fully cross the line.

He shouldn't be surprised she was always the braver one of the two of them. One of her slender hands gliding up the nape of his neck, pushing him into her. He must blackout, or be stuck in a dream, because Melissa King is not only kissing him, very enthusiastically, but her leg is swinging over to straddle his waist, taking one of his hands, guiding it to rest on the swell of her ass.

She's moving in his lap. He doesn't deserve this. Maybe he should call his mom and join her for church this weekend. He thinks he owes some thanks to the big guy upstairs.

ANYWAYS that's how weed finally brings our blorbos together <3

okay now for a random list so i don't go off and just write 5k of them being stoners

they're both really horny when high, because they're kinda a base level horny for each other when sober

Frank could eat her out for two hours straight if given the permission when high, and he's always BEGGING to get a taste of her, it's the only thing on his mind

Mel is extra sensitive when high but in a way that also makes her feel more comfortable and confident in her skin, she tortures him because they'll just be sitting, eating ice cream, and there she goes fondling her breast again

they take turns picking albums to listen to on his back porch (Mel's picks include SZA, Kali Uchis, WILLOW, Rosalia, Kehlani and Remi Wolf. Frank's include Tame Impala, Interpol, Arctic Monkeys, Maggie Rogers, Clairo, and Fleetwood Mac)

Frank can't be trusted with making snacks when they're high, he'll come back with like dill pickles and strawberry jam. Mel will eat plain yogurt sometimes and it kills Frank to watch her slowly tongue the white substance, she obliviously just likes the feeling of something cold and creamy when she has the munchies and everything feels better slower when she's high

Mel does do extensive research into the potential health effects of every method of consuming cannabis, so besides edibles ("they don't damage your lungs frank!" "the high isn't the same!"), she invests in a nice dry herb vape

Their favourite things to watch when high are various 90s/00s sitcoms, Anthony Bourdain, Nathan For You, nature documentaries, and music videos (this one becomes their own form of foreplay, who with a pulse is left unaffected by Shakira & Rihanna in Can't Remember to Forget you?)

Mel squirts more easily when high. thats it thats all.

its not always about sex when theyre high i swear, mostly they're just giggling idiots who trade ridiculous hypotheticals ("okay but if we were stranded on a deserted island and no one else was around would you crike me if i needed it?" "what the fuck mel?" "just answer the question!") ("in a world where everyone is an anthropomorphic animal, what animal are you picking?" "Frank are you thinking about Lola Bunny again?" "that's really not relevant to the conversation")

Mel drags Frank to a museum and he's not that invested in the whole outing until she pulls out the edibles she packed and the art is all the more entrancing, they laugh at some of the more ridiculous pieces together

thats all i got for now

#oh my god what possesses me to write a rough narrative instead of just bullet point headcanons #send help like im actually so sorry you didnt sign up for all this #tw drugs #tw marijuana #kingdon #langdonmel #melfrank #i only replied to this ask 4 u

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oceantornadoo · 1 month ago

Text

got lovesick all over my bed (samira mohan x jack abbot sick fic)

Someone's knocking on her forehead.

No, that can't be right. Samira turns her brain on and tries valiantly to unstick her eyelids as she forcibly blinks them open. Once they are, cloudy but mostly functional, she takes in her living room looking exactly like how she left it. No TV, because she doesn't want to pay for cable and doesn't have time for it anyway. Stacks of medical journals, mostly neat, on the coffee table she got for $30 on Facebook Marketplace, scratched from lugging it up her stairs when her elevator was out of order, again. Marshmallow curled around himself in the corner, a reminder of her resolution to get a life, and a cat, after McKay's comment after the shift from hell 6 months ago.

Someone knocks again, but not on her forehead.

It's her door, an equally foreign object that rarely gets visitors except for the odd package delivery courier who is very, very lost. Samira runs a full body scan and is not surprised to find she fell asleep in her scrubs on her couch instead of taking the six steps into her bedroom and ensuite. What is surprising is the headache making itself known, along with congestion in every nasal passage she owns. Another slow blink reveals sinus pressure behind her eyes and cheeks and would you look at that, Samira Mohan has a sinus infection. A month before her fellowship applications are due.

And there's still someone pounding at her door.

She swings her legs off her couch, groaning as the soreness from working a double shift sinks into her bones. After a hefty grunt, Samira is fully vertical, her scrubs creased but thankfully bodily fluid-less. Maybe Mel came to check up on her? But she can't imagine her friend knocking in anything other than her usual pattern (two short, one long). Perhaps Dana, who was making comments the entire shift about how Samira looked like shit and should "go home before I write you up." Or, Samira shudders as she turns the lock to open, it's her mother, come to collect after three missed calls this week. She resolves herself to this most likely scenario, steeling her spine as she opens her door to-

Jack Abbot.

Dr. Abbot, she corrects herself, who is standing with one fist raised while the other clutches what looks like a takeout order from her favorite sushi place. A closer glimpse reveals a tub of miso soup, and her stomach grumbles in anticipation. It's a feat, but she draws her head up from the warm beacon of food to look at the man in front of her.

"Dana said you were sick." He states. Samira blinks molasses slow, and some part of her wonders if this is the flu and not a sinus infection. She must be hallucinating, because Dr. Abbot is wearing glasses that she has never, ever, seen before. If she had, the dreams she's been trying to ignore for a year would have made them a feature. They're rectangle-framed, the black color of plastic stark against his salt-and-pepper curls. An explicable breath of fondness bubbles up in her throat, and she has to slow it before it escapes.

"You're wearing glasses." Definitely the flu.

Abbot doesn't say anything, walking forward until she gets the message and lets him in. "Shoes," she murmurs, and he complies silently, kicking them off as she mentally kicks herself, because his prosthetic is probably less stable without a shoe. A chill wracks through her body, and all thoughts leave her head.

"Jesus, Samira." She blinks and he's there in front of her, the soup on her counter. He checks her forehead, her lymph nodes, and then brushes a finger against her cheek. It must be some field technique he knows, and she tries to remember to ask him if he has a case study to go along with it.

"Dr. Abbot..." She trails off, unsure of what she's going to say. An unlikely occurrence when she's usually always preparing a defense of her methods to Robby or an order to ask the upper floors, for the thirtieth time, if they have a free bed. "Jack." He orders and she swallows down a nod, which makes her throat ache. "Do you want to change out of your scrubs? A shower?" Pajamas. Shower. These are things she wants, but she nearly stumbles again when another wave of fatigue hits. Her spine curls and Dr. Abbot Jack catches her with a warm hand on her shoulder and another around her waist. It's instantly steadying as she resists the urge to curl into him.

"I need help showering. I don't think I can stand." Blood rushes in her ears as Jack takes a sharp breath. Tears prick her eyes, and she gets a flashback of her bathroom breakdown after Pittfest. The pure incompetency of her own body, one that performs its duties every day without fail, suddenly won't let her stand for more than a minute before giving up. "I could call Dr. King or maybe Dr. Collins..." He trails off, and she nearly laughs at how those are the only two people he could list because she doesn't have anyone else. But Mel is working and Heather is visiting her sister in California. And Samira's mom is a few hundred miles away in New Jersey, and god, Samira doesn't have anyone.

She realizes a second later she said that out loud.

"You have me." Jack murmurs. The hand at her waist starts pushing, moving her towards her bedroom with the strong weight of him at her back. Then it's into the bathroom, where Jack sits her on the closed toilet seat and squats in front of her.

"Your leg." She protests faintly, and it's like he didn't even hear her.

"We have a few options, Mohan. I've got some baby wipes you can use, but the shower steam is going to help more. Your shower is too small for me to put that chair I saw in the kitchen in there. What do you want to do?" The impossibility that Jack is standing in her bathroom has suddenly hit. Jack, who has been sending her medical journals at all hours for a year now. Jack, who became a temporary day shift attending for a week after Robby took leave. Jack, who took her out for breakfast after a particularly rough night shift that she was only covering because it was Langdon's first visit with his kids. Jack, who's started bringing her lavender oat milk lattes after they went to an artisan cafe and all she could talk about was getting an attending salary to pay for a $7 latte.

Jack.

"Dr. Mohan."

She jerks her head up, which had fallen down as fatigue hit again. He's making that concentrated look where his eyes disappear into a dark color she can't name. "Can you help me shower?" He closes his eyes for a second, inhaling deeply, before opening them and nodding.

Jack does not help her shower. Dr. Abbot does. They start the water so it has time to warm up, then methodically strip Samira down. Well, he strips her while she holds onto the wall, try not to let her body collapse. Thankfully, her curls are somehow still in her claw clip, because if she had to wash her hair, she would simply shave it off. His eyes are on hers the entire time, never taking more than a perfunctory glimpse at her skin as more gets revealed. A cloud of steam hits her when she steps into the shower, one hand on Dr. Abbot's strong forearm as she attempts to stand straight. The shower curtain is partially open enough for his hand, but they agreed that she would wash her body.

It's clinical, like she's watching from outside herself as she swipes soap up and down. More recently, she's tried longer showers to do a "body check in", something the meditation app Ellis recommended told her to do. This time, her left hand swipes over the most important parts as her right hand clings to Jack's. It's the kind of grip she imagines he gave back in his army days; fingers curled around each other's forearms and wrists. After the soap washes away the mess of the Pitt and she can breathe a bit easier, she steadies her free hand against the tiled wall.

"Everything okay?" His voice comes out muffled, concern etched into his vowels. "Just need a second." She squeezes his arm and he squeezes back. She wonders if his glasses are fogged. Samira takes another greedy gulp of steam before shutting off the water, the bathroom falling silent.

Her blue towel floats before her as Jack valiantly tries to hand it over without pulling back the shower curtain. She lets herself smile before grabbing it, dropping his grip so she can properly wrap it around herself. Once secure, she tugs back the shower curtain (a light pink flower design she fished out of a clearance bin) and comes face to face with Jack Abbot and his glasses. Fogged.

Samira Mohan is delirious. She has a new variant of the flu that will unfortunately transfer to half of the country with the lack of NIH funding they're facing. This is the only reason for her to reach out and hook her finger under the bridge of Jack's glasses, pushing them up until they're nestled into his curls and his face is free from obstruction.

Jack must've caught the flu too, because he lets her.

He guides her with a hand on her back out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He forces her to sit onto her (blessedly made) bed, ignoring how Marshmallow has made himself at home on one of her pillows. "Pajamas?" She points to a dresser, letting him pick out a ratty Michigan tee that she's had for almost twenty years now, along with a pair of black shorts that he puts on the bed. Jack knows she went to Pitt for undergrad. Jack also knows her father went to Michigan on full scholarship from the Math department, a feat for an international student from India. A fact she revealed during Shen's birthday drinks while they watched the Michigan v Penn State game in a sports bar. Samira stays quiet.

"Do you need help changing?" He asks, no judgement in his voice. The shower has made her limbs temporarily stronger, so she shakes her head. "I'm going to make sure the soup is hot. I'll come back in ten." She sits there, slightly dripping in her towel with her comfort shirt next to her, and watches Jack scoop Marshmallow into his arms, murmuring about getting him dinner. Despite the steam, something chokes Samira's throat as she watches him close her bedroom door, sending her a half-grin over his shoulder.

Samira dresses slowly, one hand on her mattress to steady herself. Clothes on, she finds enough strength to dig out the cold & flu medicine under her bathroom sink, taking the medicine before trudging back to her bed. She sinks into bed, finding the phone that she had left on her bed table before her double. That should've been the first sign.

12 hours ago:

Dr. Jack Abbot ATTENDING: Racial Disparities in Neurological Surgery Outcomes.pdf

Dr. Jack Abbot ATTENDING: Methods might be helpful for your fellowship app.

10 hours ago:

Mel King: How was your double? Looking forward to pizza with Becca on Saturday!

4 hours ago:

Dr. Jack Abbot ATTENDING: Dana said you weren't feeling well after your shift. Can I pick you up anything?

3 hours ago:

Amma: Priti's wedding is in August. Can you take off 2 weeks to go to India?

1 hour ago:

Dr. Jack Abbot ATTENDING: Samira?

30 minutes ago:

Dr. Jack Abbot ATTENDING: I'm coming over.

Samira types out a quick confirmation to Mel, then "I'll have to check" to her mom. And then she stares at her chat with Jack, his final message blinking back at her. He's only seen her apartment once when he drove her home from breakfast a month ago, and he had insisted on street directions rather than GPS. He didn't have her unit number either, and it's not on her mailbox. She thinks of her emergency info in the hospital records and blinks rapidly.

He knocks at her bedroom door, gentler than he did her front. "Decent?" She nods before realizing he can't see, and makes a noise of assent. It's only when he steps through does she realize what he's wearing. Scrubs. Scrubs and it's 8pm and she worked day shift today (left an hour early when Dana forced her to) which means he was supposed to work night. But he's here.

"Were you supposed to work tonight?" She murmurs, throat too sore to raise her voice. Jack shrugs, setting down a bowl of soup on her bedside table before checking her temperature with a forehead thermometer that must've been in his go-bag. "Shen covered for me." He doesn't show her her temperature, just sets down the device and grabs the bowl. "But- Jack. You should be working. I'm fine now, you can go. I'm sure they need you." He doesn't answer, raising a spoonful of soup to her mouth, shoulders only dropping from their tense height when she swallows. "He owed me. I fed that ball of fur you call a cat, so it's your turn." She takes another spoonful, warmth spreading in her belly. Due to the soup, obviously.

"Marshmallow is a very respectable cat." She replies once her mouth finally doesn't feel like cotton. Jack snorts, leaning his knee into the mattress as he insists on standing and feeding her soup. She knows his leg must be killing him, and scoots over until he has enough room to take some weight off his prosthetic. "He's a lazy excuse for a cat. Only opened his eyes when I put his food in his bowl." She smiles as she swallows, which she immediately imagines to look horrific paired with her red rimmed eyes and snotty nose. Jack just winks.

Jack talks about the journal he sent her that she didn't get a chance to read as she eats. It's nicer than silence, makes her feel almost human again as she falls into the comforting blanket of medicine. The spoon clinks against the empty bowl and her eyes flutter open at the noise. "I'll bring you some liquids to keep by you when you sleep." He says absentmindedly, his eyes on her lips as she licks the last of the broth off. They flick down onto the empty bowl, and the bed is suddenly cold as he leaves to do exactly what he said.

When he comes back, Samira is tucked in under the covers, eyes barely open. He places a water bottle and a bottle of Gatorade on the bedstand, then steps back and crosses his arms against his chest like he's analyzing a case. "Thank you, Jack." Samira whispers. He swallows hard and nods, that ever-present stare of his on her. "Are you going back to the hospital?" She asks, suddenly not wanting him to go. To wake up and have this be a dream.

"Shen's covering. I've got the next four days off, something about working too much." She grins from her nest of warmth, knowing it's exactly something she would complain about too. Then, Samira Mohan gathers all the courage she can in her infection-torn body.

"Will you stay?"

Jack nods.

Samira sleeps for 13 hours. Jack counts.

He wipes down the couch and makes it his fortress, taking off his prosthetic and grabbing a nearby journal from a few months ago. He can't sleep, his body too used to this being his normal work hours. Instead, he listens to Samira's sleeping breaths and occasional snores, her bedroom door open as he insisted on.

9 hours in, his eyes flutter closed. He takes a cat nap, wary of the actual cat who stares at him from the other end of the very beaten-up couch he couldn't imagine Samira buying for herself. After a few dreamless hours, he makes tea as quiet as possible, double-checking every move and being very thankful Samira Mohan owns an electric kettle. The sun is already streaming through the living room curtains, but she's still sleeping, and he'll stay here as long as he can.

In Samira Mohan's apartment.

In the few dreams he has, he's been here in a thousand iterations. A studio with lilac walls, a four-bedroom apartment with roommates they had to keep quiet from, a house passed down from her grandparents. He's invented so many thoughts of where she lives, and even after driving her home that one time, her vanilla scent permeating his memories for days, he never imagined a cat.

She's never mentioned one. And Jack Abbot likes to consider himself a bit of an expert on Samira Mohan.

Samira's latte from Lotus Creations costs $7.49. Samira's mother calls when she's working, like she doesn't know Samira's schedule. Samira has pizza nights with Dr. King and her sister once or twice a month and always comes into shift change smiling after. Samira reads journals on anything and everything. Samira is applying for a PTMC fellowship, but also a Stanford and UIC and Washington one. Samira has a little crinkle by her eye when faced with a tough case. Samira doesn't have time for dating, which she told Parker during a rare night shift three months and five days ago.

Apparently, Samira Mohan has a white cat named Marshmallow.

That's what he's contemplating, a mug of chamomile tea growing cold in front of him, when Samira Mohan herself appears in front of him. Her curls are frizzy and encircle her head like a halo, and while Jack Abbot doesn't consider himself a poet, she makes it pretty damn easy for him to think like one. Her shirt creases match the ones on her cheek, which he hopes means she slept well. Her fingers, capable ones he's seen do thousands of procedures, fiddle with the hem of her shirt.

"You're still here." She croaks. He pushes the lukewarm tea towards her, chest loosening when she takes a sip and closes her eyes contentedly. "Told you I'd stay." He reminds her, taking the easy way out. Selfishly, he wanted as much time as he could with her like this, unguarded and willing to accept help for once. Which makes him think of the shower, and he cuts off that train of thought.

He lets her use the thermometer, satisfied when her temperature is lower than the 100.1 it was when he got here. She takes the barstool next to his, leaving them both to stare at the stove as she sips on her tea. It's time for her to take another dose of medicine, but the silence feels sacred.

Until Marshmallow jumps into his lap.

Jack jolts, age old reflexes keeping his knee from jerking against the counter. Samira just laughs, reaching over to scratch the cat behind the ears. Her hand is six inches above Jack's lap, something he never thought would happen, nevermind the cat in the way.

"Never told me you had a cat." Is the first thing that comes to his mind. Samira hums, scratching Marshmallow under the chin now. "It felt like a cliche." She answers. Jack's brows furrow as he turns his head towards her, tired of ignoring the magnetic pull of her smile. "Of what, exactly?" Samira drops her hand to go back to her tea, and for once Jack and Marshmallow are on the same side of disappointment. "Single workaholic woman gets a cat so she has someone to come back to at the end of her day. Pretty sure that's in a 2000s movie somewhere." He knew, in some remote way, that Samira was like him. That the job wasn't just the job but a lifeline, some portal to transform old wrongs into new rights. But it's different to watch her be embarrassed by it, to see her cheeks warm and a little cough emit from her throat that he's sure wasn't there five seconds ago.

"It's your day off, Abbot. You should go home. I'm fine now." She spits it out like a script, someone puppeteering her from behind. The switch from Jack to Abbot is another shot to the heart, but he powers through. Despite himself (and the memories of the evil cat his mother had until it died at age 15, the bastard), Jack pets Marshmallow. The thing purrs, and he can't help but think about the ghost of his ex-wife exclaiming in excitement that he's finally showing care for a living thing with four legs. He watches, always watching, as Samira tucks a curl behind her ear and locks eyes with his hand petting her cat.

He can't even think about that sentiment either.

"You're not cured overnight, Samira. IV fluids and observation." Her brows furrow as her finger traces a circle around the lip of her mug. "So what, you're going to stay here for however long it takes for me to get better? Be serious." He is serious, but she doesn't know that. For how intelligent (and capable and beautiful and strong and-) she is, it's clear she doesn't feel the same sense of knowing he does. He can tell when she enters a trauma room by the snap of her gloves or when she's two hours past when she's supposed to clock out by the tilt of the clip in her hair. Jack Abbot knows Samira Mohan. And that's enough. It's fine if she doesn't know him back. He can take that. Deal with it like the laundry list of things his therapist has written down in that green notebook of his. It's fine.

(It hasn't been fine for a year now).

"I need to make sure my best resident lives to see another day." An evasion, but he keeps his eyes on her face so it's not obvious how much he cannot answer her question. Her brows furrow and that crinkle near her eye comes out again.

"Jack." Samira Mohan doesn't plead. She defends to Robby or she calmly explains to a patient or she argues with a resident who would rather call a Pysch consult than ask what chemicals an overworked immigrant mom deals with at her manufacturing job. She doesn't plead, but something in those brown eyes of hers is pleading.

"Samira." Jack turns his body on the barstool and she mirrors him, their knees scraping against each other. "You wouldn't stay four days just because I'm sick. Say it." He can't. He's never lied to her and he won't start now. "I would. I am, if you'll let me." She stutters over whatever response she was going to give, then sneezes rapidly into the crook of her elbow. Jack moves to grab a tissue, but she stops him with a hand on his knee. The knee connected to a full leg, where the weighty warmth of her is overwhelming to the point of full mental disfunction.

"Why?" She asks, small. So unlike herself.

"Because I want to, Samira. There's nowhere else I'd rather be." It's a bit too much. He's going to scare her and then realize these were all veiled attempts to get him to leave, not the curtain on his feelings slowly being pulled back. "You don't have anything better to do? Anyone waiting and wondering why the hell you're here with-" She cuts herself off, but the last word was clear. Me. Here with me. Her hand drops from his knee.

"There's no one else waiting for me, Samira." Her nostrils flare at the word 'else'. She swallows hard, and he's proud to notice it goes down easier now that she's had some fluids and meds and rest under his care.

"Ask me, Samira." She blinks twice, then meets his gaze.

"Why do you send me journals at 2am? Why do you get me a latte, when I know that stupid overpriced place is ten minutes out of your way to work? Why did you have Shen cover?" It's his turn to initiate contact. To toe the line, to run his thumb over the skin stretched tight on her knuckle as she grips her mug hard.

"Sometimes, after a long shift when I'm staring at my ceiling fan, I'll open up my voicemail. Then I click on Samira Mohan from January 12th, 2 minutes and 38 seconds. I knock out within a minute, right after you switch from reframing patient satisfaction methods to asking if we can get breakfast again, because those French toast cinnamon rolls looked really good, but you didn't want to pay $25 for a bad meal after losing ten patients in that black ice MCI. And then you apologize for overstepping, and I go to sleep dreaming of how many French toast cinnamon rolls I would buy you before you'd stop me. I think you'd draw the line at seven, but I'd happily lose that bet."

He's been focused on her hand this whole time, watching it tense under the sweeping motions of his thumb. When he finds her face, inevitably drawn as always, her eyes are watery and she's shaking slightly. "Samira, honey. I can go if I've read this wrong and we never have to bring this up again. I'll be okay." She shakes her sternly like she's correcting a biased intern.

"Jack Abbot, don't you dare go." Her hands go to the waistband of his scrubs and she yanks gently until he stands in the cradle of her thighs, one hand sweeping the skin under eye and the other cradling her jaw. "Is this okay?" He murmurs, grinning to himself when she nods again. "I want to kiss you, but I don't want to get you sick." She admits, eyes wide like she's stunned by her own admission.

Jack makes the decision for her.

She opens immediately for him, warm and pliant as he tilts her head up slightly. Samira sighs a little into his mouth and a shudder carves its way into his heart, marking the memory in stone. She tastes like chamomile and sleep and the mint of the toothpaste he saw in her bathroom. Her hands fist his scrubs to pull him closer, and Jack eagerly ignores the strain in his neck. It's starts hot and impatient, months years of yearning spilling into her mouth like honey, golden and sticky. He wills himself to calm down as she chases to catch up, pulling back slightly to give little pecks. Jack catches her bottom lip and pulls it down before releasing, doing it again when Samira whimpers sweetly.

"I can't dehydrate you." He warns as he leaves her lips, kissing her cheek and running his nose along the length of her jaw. "Run me an IV and it won't be a problem." She debates, letting him laugh into the crook of her neck. Jack kisses the smooth brown skin there, smiling when she hisses in shock.

"Let me take care of you." He grips her jaw with two fingers to make his intention clear. Samira tenses, ready to defend like the knight she is, but then suddenly softens in his grip.

"Okay."

Marshmallow meows his agreement from the ground somewhere, and that's that.

#tornadothoughts #the pitt #jack abbot #samira mohan #abbot x mohan #mohan x abbot #mohabbot #jack abott x samira mohan #dr abbot #dr mohan #sick fic

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arcane-temp-fandomblog · 7 months ago

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The more I rethink Mel's arc which Amanda said was the best arc, the more I feel it encapsulates all the issues of Season 2.

Yes, I think Mel's arc is one of the most coherent with setup at end of Season 1 and end at Season 2. It's bittersweet but good.

But then I think how we got there and there are glaring problems:

- contrived way of being removed from the plot - the abduction by Black rose, Mel is now not a character influencing the plot, not even having opinion on the events of the plot - she will be in Black rose limbo until plot needs her to respawn in plot required place to get her 3 step resolution of the arc. This happens to Jayce, Ekko and Viktor too.

- over the top shocking cliffhanger that feels like something interesting is coming but in hindsight are just for cheap tension - so when Mel is abducted, it spawns speculation of what are Black Rose's intentions, I thought it was building towards something BUT it just segways into clips of exposition of her powers, of the Doomsday coming to piltover and of her mother's history. They abduct this poor woman for months on end to give us exposition. The same happens with Jayce shooting Viktor. We do not understand these actions, they just seem soo final and shocking and leading into something great. I would like to compare it to finale of S1 which is more shocking with Jinx's rocket yet we understand everything about it.

- making things emotional but in hindsight in a cheap way - so, remember when Black Rose kills Elora, Mel's friend? The emotions! The shock, right? BUT Why do they do it? Please, why would an organization that wants Mel to join them kill off her friend? What's the point of it aside for Mel to be sad? Elora actually got off well, she at least has a dialogue about her death unlike Isha or Vander or Jinx or Vander 2.0. If you compare these deaths to how logical deaths of Marcus or Finn were.

- inefficient storytelling - we get black rose scenes but they're just exposition that never flows into the main story. Never influences it. Contrary it makes the whole story worse, because now Black rose abducted Mel for months to tell her she needs to figure out how to avert the Doomsday. So months on end this organization just waited for her to solve the wall puzzle instead of trying to locate and assassinate the threat in Viktor, or influence Piltover politics to throw out Ambessa. This is cartoon logic.

- impossible to resolve conflicts - this is more on Ambessa' writing, because in ep. 8 she goes like this: Mel, it's not enough you'd join me to avenge Kino, we now have this weapon in you and this nice old chemist is lending me a hand making more weapons BUT it's impossible for me to change plans, because to stick it to Black Rose and mages in noxus as magic is unfair, I'm making this new army with the help of this nice mage I just found in the rubble. This army is also exclusively puppeteer by him. This is cartoon logic of a bad guy, not a human.

- keeping conflicts simple by keeping characters apart until 2 scenes before finale - this is hypothetical so please friends be nice, what if instead of Black rose abduction plotline the whole exposition part of it went like this: Black rose possesed Amara asks Mel to help her get introduction to her mother. Mel and Amara meet Ambessa, where Black rose reveals herself like in original scene and delivers the exposition about Mel's origins and Kino's fate. All the while changing faces between Amara, the Ionia princess and Kino to the horror of all involved. Then Mel's powers awaken like in the puzzle wall scene. Idk if that'd be better but it'd be more efficient and would keep Mel in Piltover. One scene instead of several, leaving Mel and Ambessa more time for an arc build up. Also Elora lives. Anyway, that's my stab at it while chilling and listening to 60 y/o lady showing off her spoon collection in an asmr. It's a very nice asmr.

- symbolism as character development - so when Black Rose gives Mel the Ionian processes necklace I felt really good, it felt as if Mel is finally carving her identity as Medarda from Medarda family history. But then it hit me, we don't know what she thinks of it, we don't know why she goes back to noxus on the ship, we know nothing of ot in her words. It's symbolism. Not as bad as Jayce having his whole character development this season conveyed in symbolism by role playing as Bear Grylls in Apocalypse survivor man, but it feels cheap anyway to not write character just use symbolism.

Anyway, those are my gripes and apparently this is the best arc of this show.

#arcane critical #mel medarda #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #ambessa medarda

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blastzachilles · 3 months ago

Text

— Girls .ᐟ

CHARACTERS: BASSIST FUTCH!PAT x FEM!READER WORD COUNT: 2.3k CW: SMUT 18+, afab reader. fingering, oral (f!receiving), somewhat inexperienced reader, mentions of alcohol/cannabis, author has an unpacked hand kink and really likes bassists????, author who has never been to a party and gotten drunk tries writing about a party and getting drunk

a/n: happy late challengersversary!!!! baby’s first smut <3 . even if im posting last (need to even out the angst and smut). kind of happy with how this turned out. also thank you mel for the band name nod 100 emoji link to main post!

— You don’t know why you’re here right now.

You have tons of homework you should be doing, and finals season is just around the corner. But your friends swore you were in dire need of going out, and that was that. They got you ready and (literally) dragged you off to this party.

This party that your friends said would be fun. Sure, fun. Fun’s the reek of alcohol and weed, couples making out, and intoxicated people passed out, everywhere. They clearly don’t know you.

Empty solo cup in hand, you make your way through the crowd to the backyard for some fresh air, sitting on the edge of the patio and basking in the cool breeze that comes with the late hours of the day.

Until you see a crowd of people walking back inside the house. Oh yeah, your friends had told you about this. There was going to be ‘live entertainment.’ Which usually meant some shitty college boy band that was just trying to get into people’s pants. No thanks.

But for some reason, you find yourself walking back inside anyway, pushing through the crowd to get a few rows in front of the makeshift stage. Then the band walks out, and you look over the members.

When you see them, you short circuit.

You tune out every other noise but the sound of rushing blood in your ears as your heart starts to pound, hands going clammy with sweat. Thank god the lights are dimmed, is your only thought as you feel the blood rushing to your rapidly warming cheeks.

You miss the band’s name, and their little introduction leading up to their first song. But you don’t really care, your eyes don’t leave whoever that is up there, playing the bass.

The hottest person you’ve ever seen.

Dark curls, broad shoulders, and a face that looks like it was carved by Michelango himself. They’re in a tight white tank that leaves little to the imagination, and black cargos with a statement belt. You’re mesmerized, and you feel yourself staring in a way that many would deem disrespectful.

When you manage to tear your eyes away from their face, as the band introduces their next song, you decide to look them over.

Big mistake.

The first thing you settle on is their casual stance, almost like nothing can bother them. Then follows their legs–they definitely work out–and then comes their shoulders.

Those are great. Both of them.

But it’s their hands that really get to you. Their fingers plucking the strings like it’s nothing. Like it’s second nature to them. It gets you thinking about what else they–

That thought immediately goes south, and you feel the need to squeeze your legs shut, just a little more.

Using what feels like superhuman strength to rip your eyes off their hands, you look back up to their face, only to be met with their eyes already locked onto you. A slow smirk crawls onto their face, and you feel like you’re going into cardiac arrest, like you’re not really alive and instead in some sort of dream sequence.

The world falls away as your eyes bore into theirs, like you two are the only people who exist. You hold their gaze for what feels like forever before they tear theirs away again to play the next song, and while the moment feels broken, it doesn’t exactly feel over.

Especially when their set has finally finished, and while the band you still don’t know the name of packs up, you turn on your heel to rush to the bathroom. You need a moment after that.

But you don’t get twenty steps in before someone catches your arm, stopping you in your tracks. Turning around, you find yourself meeting the gaze of them. The bassist. From the band. The one you were ogling so hard, it probably looked like you had googly eyes.

“Pat.”

“Huh?” you stammer out.

“The name. It’s Pat.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, of course.” you say, introducing yourself. “You were great up there. You–you all were. I really liked your band, uh–”

“Phil’s Tire Town?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. That.”

“Yeah,” a small breath escaping Pat’s lips as they chuckle softly. It’s confident, like they know they’re hot and run with it. “Saw you staring at me the whole set. You here with anyone?”

“Was with my friends, but they’re… elsewhere. Around.” You look around the room to see if your friends are anywhere, but they’re not. They’ll check in later, that’s how this usually goes.

“No… partner?”

“Oh!” you laugh. “You mean that way. Oh, no.”

Pat laughs back, and you feel like your heart has skipped at least five beats. “You sound so sure of that.”

“Well, yeah, I am.”

They let out a little ‘hm’ at your words, nodding with interest before looking down at your solo sup, still empty. “You, uh, you drinking anything?”

You catch Pat’s gaze, and look down at your solo cup, trying to play it off like it hasn’t been empty the whole night. “Oh, yeah. Just finished the cup. Was about to head over to the bar to get myself another cup.”

“Definitely.”

“Yeah, definitely.” you laugh awkwardly.

Then Pat walks past you, and your smile falls, your gut dropping as you prepare yourself for the worst.

But then they turn around to look back at you.

“You coming?”

And you’re following behind them faster than ever.

After you get to the kitchen and start drinking with Pat, the night goes by like something of a blur. You spend upwards of an hour laughing as you slowly progress further and further into an intoxicated state, and eventually, sometime around two, decide it’s time to get up and leave.

“I should, uh, I should head out.” you giggle, the alcohol starting to get to you.

“You sure? The party’s just starting.” Pat chuckles.

“Yeah, positive…”

“Let me walk you home then.” They say, with a tone that indicates they’re in it for something else.

“No… you don’t hav’to–”

Pat grabs your arm, and you quickly shut up. “Please, I insist.”

“Okay.”

The walk back to your dorm is slow but enjoyable, you and Pat basking in the early morning breeze, giddy with intoxication.

When you stop outside your door, Pat’s still with you, and the air feels charged. There was tension at the party, but not to this degree. You swear you could cut through this with a butter knife.

“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” they say.

“Yeah. I guess this is. Goodnight, Pat.”

“Goodnight.”

Neither of you move though.

Instead, you’re both staring into each other as though trying to decipher who each other is just from a glance. Like you’re trying to crawl inside them and find out who they are, what makes them tick, and what gets them going. At least that’s what you’re doing. You can only hope they’re doing the same.

Heart pounding and hands clammy, you inspect Pat, their eyes, their face all over, and you sense your thoughts starting to wander and–

That’s why they call it liquid courage.

Your lips crash against theirs, your kiss hungry and desperate, like their breath is the only oxygen you need.

It happens in a matter of seconds.

You pull them into your dorm, the kiss barely breaking, clothes being torn off and forgotten on the floor, as it registers in your head what you’re about to do.

“I’m–I’m not–”

Pat helps you to your knees, sitting on the edge of your bed and spreading their legs. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

You nod, leaning in to rest your head on their thigh, kissing at it, getting soft gasps out of them that leave a grin on your face.

Pat’s hand finds its way into your hair, bringing your mouth closer to where they’re expecting you, and you look up at them, eyes wide in a way that shoots south.

When your tongue darts out to give a small lick at their cunt, you grin against their folds when they let out a soft moan.

“Fuck yeah, baby. You feel that? That’s all for you.”

As you lick again, a long stripe along their cunt, they push your head further in between their legs, your eyes still looking up at them.

“Oh god, yeah. Yeah, that’s good.” They moan, head falling back as you keep going.

You’re not really sure if you’re actually doing that good, but if they’re making those noises, you can only hope you’re doing something right.

Burying your face deeper in their cunt, you circle their clit with your tongue, sucking softly before moving a little lower to delve your face into their folds once more, pushing your tongue inside Pat as their moans become louder and more frequent.

“Oh, yeah—Fuck, I’m gonna—Fuck! I’m so close—Just a little more. Just—Oh!” Pat cries, their legs shaking around your head, grip in your hair tightening as they reach their climax, coming all over your face as you try to lap it up, prolonging their orgasm.

When they’re done, they’re breathing heavy, head falling forward as their hand falls out of your hair, and you press a few kisses to their inner thighs.

After a few moments, they perk up again, and smile down at you.

“Okay. Your turn.” Pat huffs out, clearly spent from finishing, as they help you up and lead you over to your bed, lying you down.

“Okay.” You gasp, grinning, face still glistening with their orgasm.

“Let me take care of you.” they whisper, leaning in and pressing their lips to yours again, before peppering them along your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone, and then your chest. The intensity of it all makes you gasp, your mind fuzzy as though you’re in some sort of haze. You’re half aware of Pat’s hands rubbing your thighs as you watch their tongue circle your quickly hardening nipple, before they close their lips around it and begin to suck softly. The action elicits small mewls from you, your back arching and pushing your chest further into their mouth, making the feeling all the more intense.

You feel like you’re in a dream, but come back with a protesting gasp as Pat lifts their head up and removes their mouth from your chest.

“Hey!–”

“Easy, babe.” they chuckle, a satisifed smirk on their face, their green eyes on you as they squeeze your thigh slightly. “Saw you staring at my hands while I was playing. You like ‘em?”

Your face somehow manages to feel even hotter than it already does, but you give a small nod regardless. “Yeah. Who wouldn’t?”

They make a face as though to contemplate that answer, bobbing their head side to side. “Eh, good point. You wanna learn what else they’re good for?”

It’s such a stupid line, but that paired with the cocky smirk on Pat’s face absolutely destroys any sort of self-preservation you have, and you’re quick to give in. “Yes. God, yes, please. I’ve been thinking about it since I first saw you.”

“I know.” Pat’s voice is low, quiet, as they drag their fingers up along your inner thigh, reaching your cunt and running a finger along your folds, getting a few whimpers from you. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Just like that. Such pretty noises, just for me. So wet, just for me.”

It’s not a question, but you feel the need to answer it anyway. “Yeah–yeah. Wet, just for you.”

Pat’s smirk widens at that, and they begin to ease a finger inside you. “That good? Yeah?”

If the way you moan and your back arches is any indicator, it’s very good. So good Pat eases in another, sliding the two fingers in deeper as you grab at their shoulders. “Easy, baby. That’s it. Yeah, that’s good.”

And then Pat starts to curl their fingers inside you, repeating the motion, and you think you just might black out. You’ve never felt anything like this, and it’s like Pat’s been doing this to you forever, as if know every little thing that makes you moan and gasp and whine like never before.

And when you start squirming, hips rolling erratically against their hand, signaling you’re close, Pat pushes their fingers knuckle deep to work you to your brink.

“Fuck, Pat! I’m gonna–gonna–”

“Yeah, that’s it. Come for me, baby.”

“O-ok–Yeah–Oh! Fuck!” you moan sharply, finally being brought to your brink as you release all over their hand, releasing a stream of liquid as you squirt. Your legs shake, and Pat keeps working you through your whole orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Yeah, just like that. Beautiful.”

Your chest is heaving with exertion, a wave of exhaustion coming over you after enduring such a brutal orgasm.

“God, that was…”

“I know.” Pat grins.

You grin up at them, and with a final kiss, you say your goodnights, Pat’s warm body wrapped around you from behind as you fall asleep, spent and satisfied.

The next morning, when you wake up in your dorm, your hangover leaving you with a killer headache and your clothes still strewn across the floor, you feel it before you look to your side. The spot where they were sleeping, now empty and cold, the clothes they threw on the floor now gone. And when you reach for your phone, you feel a sticky note on top of it, taking it off to read it. You scoff to yourself, looking at their number on the note, on top of a ‘call me ;)’ written underneath.

Maybe your friends were right. These parties are fun.

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cautious-soup · 1 month ago

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2k words of Polybolts Fluff (Yelena, Bob, Ava and John)

Pretty much just fluff and very self-indulgent. Bear with me, the hot people still live rent free in my brain. Relationship is established but not explicitly stated. Bucky and Alexei are here but not involved in the polycule. They're just vibing.

Also huge thanks to @etherealsymphony for making a post that reminded me to write this!

Anyway, enjoy :)

--------

The invulnerability and reflexes are the only consistent aspects of Bob's powers. They aren't something that can get turned on or off—unlike strength or telekinesis or flight, they're just there.

John is the first to suggest it after expressing frustration with the training dummies in the gym. Instead of anything proper or even durable, they get cylinders with cylinders for arms anchored to the ground.

"I keep telling Mel to tell Val to get us dummies that are person shaped," John sighs, "And something more durable, these don't even last an hour," he kicks the dented pleather dummy; it smashes into the far wall.

"I think they're fine," Yelena says, "Thought it'd be nice if they could fight back."

"I heard Stark had entire simulations fine-tuned for each team member," Ava said, crouching to examine the dummy that she'd severed on accident, "Standing in one place and wailing on an object only does so much."

"And John doesn't spar fair," Yelena says, shooting him a look. John raises his hands in exasperation.

"Well we both get too distracted by your constant fucking scissorlocks," Ava says under her breath. Yelena raises a brow at both of them, John coughs and looks down at his feet.

After a moment of silence, the entry-way door slides open.

"Oh, hey guys," Bob says, wearing a Florida swim club t-shirt and shorts. The others wave and nod, mumbling some 'heys'. He pads over to the treadmills—the only activity he does in the gym. He's too afraid of sparring with the others, given how unpredictable things get with his powers.

Yelena resumes sparring with her dummy, while Ava wonders what to do with the halves of hers. John, meanwhile, is staring at Bob, who is stretching half-heartedly.

"Say, Bob," John calls out, making the others look at him too. Bob glances up, "Yeah?"

"Could you stand here?" John pointed to the center of the floor. Bob nodded, "Sure, ok," And walked over to where John was pointing.

"So, if you got shot right now,"

"Christ Walker," Ava says, and John waves her off, "You'd be fine, right?"

Bob nods, "Pretty sure,"

"And like if I were to punch you?"

"Wouldn't do anything I don't think," Bob says, tilting his head, "Why?"

John's tongue pushes on the inside of his cheek in that way he does when he's thinking of something stupid. Yelena says, "John," but John is already saying, "You wanna be my dummy?"

"…"

"…like to punch? And kick? And stuff?"

John nods, "Yeah uh, if that's cool with you I dunno if," he doesn't say it, but they all hear it. Bob shakes his head, "Oh, yeah I've been working through that stuff, you don't have to worry about hurting me,"

Emotionally.

"Cool," John nods.

"Cool," Bob smiles.

"Right, then I'm gonna," John clenches and unclenches his fists, and Bob looks a little unsure what to do with himself, "Should I just stand here?" he asks.

"Yeah just kinda, hold your arms up like this a bit," John says. Bob mirrors him.

Yelena and Ava both flinch when the blows start landing, the sound akin to a gorilla punching a wall of solid steel.

"Sheesh," Ava says, watching John windmill kick a completely stationary Bob across the face. Of course, he's unscathed. "That was a bit much," Bob says, "Aren't flashy moves like that worse for like…combat and stuff?"

"Yeah but, it still looks cool," Yelena offers.

Ava snorts, "Did you just say Walker looked cool?"

"No," Yelena shakes her head, "No, never. Ever."

"Jesus," John sighs, side-eyeing Yelena before looking at Bob, "You really don't feel a thing?"

"Nah," Bob shakes his head.

"Cool, cool," He says, rearing his hand back for a right hook.

--------

Yelena, during her first months at the tower, insisted that she didn't want to be touched, hugged, patted, anything. In reality, she was more than fine with it, so long as she initiated it first.

John and Ava are always in the living room first for the biweekly movie night, sitting on the couch in silence and waiting for the others to filter in. It starts at 8, but most of the time the movie doesn't get started until 9, or 9:30 if Bob wants to make snacks.

"We are to watch Final Destination 3 end of discussion." Yelena announces as she walks into the living room, cradling Wiggles in her arms. Ava rolls her eyes, then makes an 'oof,' sound as Yelena makes herself comfortable in her lap.

"…why?"

"You're right here aren't you?" Yelena says, knowing damn well that Ava won't bother to push her off. Alexei comes in next along with Bucky, bombarding him with some war story. Bucky sits in his recliner (which is off limits to anyone else). Nobody on the team knows how old it is, but they know he's had to get it reupholstered twice. Alexei sits on a stiff chair next to it that everyone else finds uncomfortable. He says it's good for posture.

Bob eventually wanders in and, seeing everyone in the living room says, "Oooh, it's movie night,"

"Where've you been all day?" Ava asks. Bob sits down next to her, making Ava adjust Yelena in her lap. Yelena doesn't move, letting herself be handled until she's spread evenly across John, Ava and Bob.

"Briefing room," Bob says, "S'quiet in there. Everyone avoids it,"

"Cause it's the worst room in the tower," Yelena says, holding Wiggles up above her head, "Wiggles refuses to go in there—he has sixth sense I'm sure of it,"

"God I hope not," John mutters. He twines a finger around one of Yelena's blonde locks, "Last thing we need is a guinea pig with super strength."

"Aha, but it would be amazing mascot," Alexei says, "Guinea pig with super strength, flies around," he arched his hand through the air.

"Pretty sure it's still a normal guinea pig," Ava says, "Though it'd be kind of funny if he could fly,"

"More like kinda horrifying," John murmured.

Bob hummed, "I think it'd be cute," and stood, careful to move Yelena's feet from his lap to the couch, "M'gonna make some popcorn real quick,"

"Bucky, you don't think this thing has powers, right?" John asks. With no response, he cranes his neck to look at him, only to find him passed. out.

"Is like the chair casts a spell on him every time," Yelena cackles.

"This has to be a new record, right?" John asks, "Conked out and the movie hasn't even started."

"Hope it never does," Ava mutters, but everyone knows she'll stay to watch it—offering copious sarcastic remarks.

After a while, Bob returns from the kitchen with two giant bowls of popcorn, along with Hulk Out!™ seasoning mix Bucky bought as a joke months ago; it was surprisingly good.

Yelena especially likes it, and snatches both the seasoning and the bowl out of Bob's hands. She shoves the bowl in Ava's hands, unscrewing the bottle and dumping green powder over the popcorn.

"Ugh, Yelena," Ava sniffs, puffs of green wafting up to her nose, "I keep telling y-you naugh, nuugh," her eyes flutter. Before Yelena can register, Ava is aberating, and sneezing, and falling through the couch—then through the floor. The popcorn bowl tips over now that nobody is holding it. Distantly, the team hears a thump resound from the floor below. Bob is flabbergasted, John is already laughing his ass off, and Alexei is dutifully rising from his chair to take the elevator down and check on Ava.

Yelena looks at the now empty spot, before shrugging and tipping the bowl back over, "Is not completely ruined," she says, resuming dumping the Hulk Out!™ mix on the remaining kernels.

Bucky is woken up by all the commotion, looking very confused.

--------

"Could we maybe stop by Target on our way back?" Ava asks Mel on a ride back from a bomb threat that turned out to be very very real.

Everyone in the SUV turned to look at her.

"We all kinda smell like gunpowder," Bob says, but Ava rolls her eyes, "Who cares? Besides, I won't be long, I promise,"

"Your promises are made of tissue," Yelena puts her head in her hands.

"Just—I have an idea for an end table that will really make the reading room pop—it'll just be a placeholder until we get a replacement. It's annoying to not have anywhere to put my tea while I'm reading."

"…it is kind of a pain," Bob says.

Since moving into the tower, Ava has been slowly working to decorate every space. It was technically Mel's responsibility to deal with decor, but Ava ended up taking over before anyone knew what was happening. The sterile living room ended up covered in throw pillows and blankets, all of which were changed out every month because "You cannot have a pillow this orange sitting out during the winter, Bob,"

It wasn’t just the interior design she cared about either, even formal events see Ava "gently advising" the team on their outfits, and fussing over everyone right up until they're minutes away from whatever venue they're due to attend. Yelena has a picture on her phone of Ava straddling Bob in the car, clawing at his hair to wrangle it into place. Her caring about appearances fluctuated along with her manic episodes, but everyone on the team had manic episodes so it wasn’t that much of a bother.

When they get to Target, Mel looks them over before they go inside, and nods, "Yeah, this'll be good for PR," she says, reaching out to swipe some rubble off of John's shoulder.

"Good for PR, how exactly?" He asks.

"In a…. 'polar bear in Arlington Texas' kinda way," Mel says, stepping back and brandishing her phone to snap a photo of them, since she was in charge of their official Instagram account.

"Hehehe," Yelena laughs, because she's the only one who gets the joke. The usual looking and pointing ensues while they walk across the parking lot to the entrance.

"I always like how this place smells," Bob says as they walk in, before wandering off to the toy section. Yelena jogs to catch up to him.

"Children, both of them," John mumbles, rolling his still aching shoulders, "You're really gonna make us walk around Target after 5 hours of clean up?"

"You're the one who kept going for the heavy stuff," Ava says, turning to him. She looks him up and down, then smirks, "If you humor me, I can give you a back rub when we're at the tower, hm?" she holds up aberrating palms.

John folds quicker than Sentry folded his shield, and follows Ava into the depths of the store. She looks at end tables for 30 minutes—which honestly isn't too bad. Nobody in the store asks for their picture, but they're trending an hour after they leave.

"Bob," Bucky asks later at the debrief, folding his arms and looking down the table at him, "Why did I open Instagram only to see a video of you and Yelena shooting toy guns at each other?"

"…you use Instagram?" Bob asks.

There's a lot of back and forth but, in the end, the Target visit ends up being great for PR. Mel gets a bonus.

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"Oil," Valentina had said.

"Ol," John repeated.

"No no, oil," She said slowly.

"…ol,"

"Yeah, ok no," She sighed, "This is no good, you're gonna need coaching. A lot of coaching,"

When doing publicity training for being the 'next Captain America', John had to do extensive vocal training. He’d been committed to fitting into the mold left behind by Steve, to the point where keeping his accent general just became…normal. Most people he met after the fact would've never guessed he was from anywhere near Georgia.

But it did slip sometimes, particularly when he was worked up.

Ava looks up from her laptop at the sound of her room door opening, frowning as John walks in briskly. It was late, too late for any favors anyway. But for them, emergencies always seemed to come late.

"What?" She asks, starting to close her laptop.

"Ah—nothin'," John waves his hand, "Uh, I m—nothing, I'm fine."

Ava blinks at the slip, and John cusses, "Don't."

"You saw a bug, didn't you?" She says, not bothering to fight the grin crawling on her face.

"No," John says. Ava keeps smiling, so he says, "Ok—yeah, in my window there's some kinda—I dunno it's like long an' fuckin'—jus' please," he pinches the bridge of his nose, "I don't wanna deal with that thing, it disappeared before I could dispatch it,"

"…so," Ava raises a brow at him. John doesn’t say anything, but looks pointedly at her bed.

"Seriously?"

"I thought we were all committed to supportin' each other n stuff," John says.

"Well yes but, I really like the idea of you pulling your sheets up to your chin, lips trembling in terror, flinching at any brush against your skin in fear of it being…" she gasps, "a bug,"

John isn’t impressed by her theatrics and asks, "…so can I sleep in here or not,"

Before Ava can answer, the lump under the covers that John assumed was just a pillow shifted. Yelena emerged, bleary eyed, looking between John and Ava with mild irritation.

"This bed is huge," she says, gesturing broadly across the mattress, "There shouldn't be any debate," She flops back down, "Now hush, I sleep,"

John points a finger at them, "…how long…?"

"Don't ask," Ava says, scooting over, "Come on. By tomorrow the bug will have crawled into a vent and died or something,"

"Right," John says, it sounded more like 'raat', "Preciate it,"

Yelena sits up slightly, frowning at her current position, and crawls over Ava, settling between her and John. She takes out her phone, thumbing across the screen.

"You can't complain constantly about not getting sleep and then use your phone in bed," Ava says absently, still looking down at her laptop herself.

"You’re one to talk.” Yelena scoffs, “And I'm just texting Bob," she finished, tossing her phone on John's stomach. He raised his hands in offense, but sighed and reached over to place it on the nightstand to his right.

The bed is huge, sure, but by the time Bob joins them it's a touch crowded. Still, Bob had a knack for making himself smaller, for better or for worse, and latched onto John's side along with Yelena.

"Ava," John isn’t sure what to do with his hands, "Take one of them please,"

"I'm busy," She says, fingers sliding across her trackpad, "You did this to yourself,"

Yelena starts to snore, and John lays back to accept his fate.

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

Thank you for reading!

Also see nearly 3k words of polybolts smut 👀

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4me2knowandyou2wonder · 6 months ago

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Just some MelVik "early days dynamic" brain worms. I had fun writing a scene. no real shipping here actully, just the good ol mel and viktor dynamics we should have gotten 800~ words, writen at like 2am, not reread at all before posting.

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Viktor’s left leg has fallen asleep. For a while now he had been aware of the slow tingling crawling down his nerves, but he’d finally gotten into a position that let his right leg stop throbbing and found he was unwilling to keep looking for a way to sit that appeased both limbs. It is for this reason that when the lab door loudly swings open Viktor makes no attempt to rise. There is no doubt in his mind that that could only end with him on the floor. He does not know who entered the laboratory, certainly not Jayce—he had left an hour ago, but no matter how open he was to the intruder being a stranger, he was still unprepared for councilor Medarda herself, to sit down on top of his notes.

“As concentrated on progress as ever I see,” she lulled, dragging the page he’d been staring at from his fingers.

Once over his initial shock, Viktor snatched the paper back with force and glared at the councilor with flames in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

The counselor at least had the wherewithal to look a little embarrassed after that. “Well, honestly, I am here seeking counsel.”

“Jayce left two hours ago.”

“I know. I came for you.”

Viktor could keep the indignation from his voice. “Me?”

Councilor Medarda finally removed her butt from Viktor’s desk in favor of pacing about the room. Viktor reluctantly unfolded himself to watch her movements. His legs had very differing opinions about this action.

“I’m trying to undo an outdated law, but the council is not in my favor.” Viktor wanted to interject with a comment about that but the councilor offered no pause. “For years doctors who are licensed in Piltover have been barred from practicing medicine in the undercity.”

He was well aware. Viktor focused on her with more interest. Why would she care about doctors being allowed in Zaun?

“I thought it was an obvious law to over turn.” Her pacing had gotten faster now. “Why are we controlling the movements of our citizens? Wanting to help others across the bridge doesn’t make anyone less capable of medicine! Its—”

“It is because they want the resource for themself,” Viktor interrupted, “and, well, they do not want their doctors to be put in danger.”

The councilor’s pacing stopped. “You agree with them!”

Viktor frowned. He wasn’t sure how much he was willing to say. He said it anyway. “Miss Medarda, I have watched friends and family alike die from preventable diseases. Die, just because the available doctors are too scared to work with them. If you are from Zaun, it does not matter if you make it all the way to Piltover. It does not matter if you have the money. This very law scares doctors enough that they will turn me away.” Even while curled over in a rickety wooden chair, his gaze was enough to level her. “Of course I do not agree with the council.”

“Viktor—”

He let out a sigh and leaded back in his chair. “I simply… understand their flawed minds.”

“I want to change it.”

“A noble thought.” He didn’t try to hide his skepticism.

The councilor is suddenly much closer to him. “I was a single vote away from reversing it.” There is a conviction in her voice that intrigues Viktor. “Hoskel is malleable. But he’s scared of change.”

She pauses long enough Viktor thinks she might be waiting for him to speak. “I-”

“Can you hide a calming agent in a kid’s fidget puzzle?”

There is fire in her eyes. A rueful smile plays over Viktor’s face. “Miss Medarda…” he drawls. “Are you here to ask me to help you drug your fellow counselor, so that you can pass a law?”

The councilor doesn’t recoil. She doesn’t even blink. Unwavering determination. Viktor is faced with a choice. He doesn't like the thought of being used, but a reversal of this jurisdiction could mean everything for hundreds of Zaunite citizens. One trinket is all it would take for him and the counselor to change the dynamics of the whole population.

Viktor wins the staring contest. Councilor Medarda sighs and lets her shoulders fall. “I’m sorry for bothering you. Goodnight, Viktor.”

“Goodnight, Councilor.”

He lets her touch the brass handle before calling out. “Are you not going to tell me when the next council meeting is?”

Councilor Madarda’s head whips around. She is met with the widest, most cunning grin she’s ever seen on Viktor. Her next few breaths come out a bit like she might be laughing, but Viktor cannot be sure.

“It’s- It's tomorrow evening.”

Viktor pushes his bottom lip up and nods his knocks to the side. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

He picks up his pencil from the desk and turns away. He does not look up again until a closed door muffles the councilor’s footsteps. Perhaps Viktor should play Powerful more often, he concedes, that was fun.

#melvik #jaymelvik #arcane #viktor arcane #mel medarda #meljayvik #jayvikmel #arcane wip #no on screen jayvik but viktor is also weary of mel because of her interactions with jayce??? so maybe

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demontouched · 7 months ago

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a small list of things that i haven't seen anybody talk about in regards to arcane:

-jayce and mel literally fuck

i've seen anything and everything about jayvik, and i've seen jokes about jaymel, but it was never said that they literally fucked. i thought it was another implied thing, like jayvik. but no, they straight up fuck.

-sevika vs vi parts 1&2

okay, half of this is a lie, i did see a breakdown of sevika vs vi pt 1, but nobody mentioned that vi WENT BACK FOR MORE. and that she saw vander. (more on that at point 5)

-sky's death

she was in love with viktor and had been researching something to show him. while i dont think viktor reciprocated her feelings, she seemed like a friend to him and to see someone you know just disintegrate? that's horrifying. especially when they were trying to save you.

-jinx is an expert eavesdropper

vander's basement, the bridge, silco's office (i think he set up her little rafter hangout bc she kept eavesdropping on him), the statue, probably more. she's exceptionally sneaky and seemingly a good tracker. i need to write a timebomb fic about little powder and ekko sneaking around.

-vi hallucinates but only when she's almost dead

jinx's hallucinations appear with triggers. she's been traumatized enough that even a verbal cue is enough to trigger them. vi's hallucinations only appear when she's extremely injured. physically traumatized. they're less volatile, but they are still hallucinations.

-zaun posture vs piltover posture

zaunite's are slouched. vi walks with her head down, silco leans over his desk, jinx walks with a head tilt and sits with a shrimp back. piltover citizens all stand upright, shoulders squared. espeically the rich ones. even when she is injured, caitlyn has a straighter back than vi ever did uninjured. jayce is never slouching. even viktor, who has spent years and years in piltover still sits hunched.

anyway, feel free to add on to this

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k3nz1ekorn · 7 months ago

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Jayvik actor au- "This isn't my bedroom?"

Shooting continues at the lot, production is finally ramping up and our beloved actors Vlad and Joel get to talk a bit more. Part 2 chronologically in the au.

Character cheat sheet: Vi-Viola, Cait-Cathrin, Mel-Miah, Savannah- Sevika, Sky- Skyler, Powder/Jinx-Piper, Ekko-Elijah

Disclaimer: I know nothing about professional acting or studios, lot setup, etc. I will not be looking things up while writing this so if you notice something is blatantly wrong leave a comment about it! This is purely self indulgent and fics will probably be posted out of chronological order in the timeline. (If I write enough I’ll make a timeline list of them tho)

It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Vlad had a busy schedule. Between shooting for arcane and his other projects he was on the production lot practically 24/7 this week. It was mostly other roles he’d booked that he was shooting this week since basically all of his scenes in Arcane involved Joel, who was turning out to be quite the busy man. They’d barely spoken since their first official meeting and none of it had even been to run lines! He was a bit worried about that specifically. They were both good actors, but that on screen chemistry didn’t always come naturally. It was always good to practice, he thought as he absently massaged a knot in his thigh. It was only in these early hours that he really had time to himself, time to just exist as he is, to not think about his lines or how to say them, and especially not to think about any of his co-stars. It wasn’t that he hated them, quite the opposite actually. The ones he’d met so far he gets along with very well, even joining them for lunch when his schedule allows it. They’re people he could actually see himself enjoying the company of outside of work. He makes a mental note to invite them all out for drinks this weekend, the ones that were going to be in town for it that is. The problem with his co-stars was actually a singular person, one with striking golden eyes and a face Vlad is sure was sculpted by the gods themselves with the explicit intent to taunt him.

The brunette squeezed his eyes shut and brought his mug up off the table to take a long sip of his coffee, to distract his wandering mind. He wasn’t going to think about Joel right now. This was his me time, not fantasizing about his coworker time. He had found it too much of a hassle to make the drive back to his apartment the previous night and had opted to instead sleep in his trailer, meaning his clothing for the day were whatever he had supplied for himself when he packed the dressers before it was brought to the lot. A pair of black jeans and a thick dark grey sweater seemed to be his best options that day, it didn’t matter too much anyways, he would be in and out of costume all day anyways, this outfit was just for his meal breaks.

He was already showered and ready for the day, which he knew was going to be starting soon, it was already- Jesus 8AM? He had to get moving. He stood up as he chugged the rest of his half finished barely lukewarm coffee, rinsing the mug in the sink and moving to the table on the opposite side of his trailer to grab his script and water bottle before descending the steep ass ramp out of his trailer. Skyler should be here soon, he thought absently, should she not? It wasn’t like her to be late and call time was slowly approaching. He pulled his phone from his pocket as he let the door shut behind him, did she maybe text him and he just hadn’t seen it?

Ah. He had a few missed texts it seemed.

Displayed brightly on his screen were three texts, the first from his aforementioned assistant, saying the line at their usual coffee shop had been longer than usual and she was running a bit late, delivered maybe 15 minutes ago. Second was from Viola, a picture he’d have to actually open the message to see and the words ‘did you get it yet?????????’ received about 3 minutes ago. He didn’t need to guess what she meant as yes, he had in fact gotten it. The third text is no doubt what she was referring to, and the one that had initially caught his attention. It was from an unknown number, a simple ‘this is joel we should meet to run lines over lunch,’ and he definitely wasn’t mentally scolding his clothing choice for the day. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though as he felt a hand on his shoulder and saw two coffees on a holder come into his line of vision.

“SO sorry for running late Vlad, the line was crazy, even mobile ordering ahead of time they were just slammed.” She sounded out of breath as she spoke to him, her other hand holding the coffee lowering a bit as the hand that had been on his shoulder moved to cover her chest. She looked as professional as ever in her black pantsuit and deep red button up. Her hair was up in a high puff today, a few pieces coming out to frame her face. She moved her free hand to grab her phone from her pocket to go over the itinerary she no doubt had open. “You have a few new faces for your scenes today, some old ones too I noticed! So we should probably get you there just a pinch ahead of time. Wanna head to the set now?” She finally looked up at him as she caught her breath. Vlad was already looking at her when he opened his mouth to speak. He hadn’t thought about a response yet. She’d given him plenty of time to refocus himself and yet here he was, still reeling over a text like some teenager. He raised his phone just a bit.

“Joel texted me.” The silence was deafening. Skylar blinked once. Then twice, before finally letting a smirk overtake her face.

“Oh did he? And why are you telling me this?” Truth be told he didn’t know. Most likely because he hadn’t had a coherent thought since she got there and he’d like to believe they are at least on friendly terms by now.

“I should respond to it before we head over. It would be rude not to, no?” He turned back to his phone and unlocked it before clicking on the new number to respond, Skyler let out an amused laugh from beside him. He had to send something before he could overthink this, and fast. ‘Yes please omg’ seemed like too much, and a simple ‘Sure.’ was definitely too cold, he needed to be professional but enthusiastic about it. He settled on, ‘I’d actually been meaning to ask you the same, we will discuss further when I get to the set, yes?’ He quickly clicked out of their texts to stop himself from rereading it and opened the text from Viola instead. Texting back a quick ‘I did :3’ he looked over the photo she sent. The picture was quite cute to say the least. The camera was at a high angle, only showing her forehead and eyes at the bottom of the screen, the main focus of the photo being Cathrin and Joel a few feet away holding out their phones in front of one another. Was that a blush he saw? He quickly blinked the thought away and pocketed his phone before turning back to Skyler to let her know he was ready to go.

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Vlad had finished his second cup of coffee before they even stepped foot onto the set they’d be at for their first scene. He had to, after nearly spilling coffee on his Academy uniform earlier in the week he’d had to cut back on his on set coffee breaks. That’s actually why he was now drinking more water,.much to Skyler’s delight he may add. His cane gave gentle clicks as he moved into view of the set, a dark hallway and a door loomed in front of him, this was their scene breaking into the lab if he was not mistaken. The schedule had said all of their group scenes would be before lunch, which meant this one, the trial with the council, and the scene where they get to be hooked up to a bunch of wires. That one made him a bit uneasy if he was telling the truth, he never liked heights much, and having no experience with being hooked up like that he was unsure of how his leg would handle it. They had a fantastic team helping to make accommodations for him, but he’d had his fair share of bad experiences so it was natural to be cautious.

He was broken from his thoughts as he recognized a familiar face out of the corner of his eye. He adjusted himself to face the newcomer and gave a warm smile, “Miah! I was hoping we’d get a chance to chat before we were called to places. You look wonderful! That makeup was a great choice I must say.” His old friend only laughs in response, head tilting back in amusement before coming to embrace him in a small side hug. There was no lie, she was a vision really, in a beautiful all white dress with gold accents that perfectly matched the jewelry in her hair and makeup painting her face.

“Hey Vlad, can’t say I’ve seen the costume or makeup department make anyone look bad so far, yourself included. Did they make your moles bigger? And that vest, oh my god!” She circled him once, as if he didn’t already know how good he looked right now. “The lace up sides are a very nice touch, on both you and Mr. Torres over there.” She gestures somewhere behind him and he has to grip his cane a bit tighter to keep himself from shooting around to gawk at the new topic of their conversation. Instead he just gives a light chuckle and takes a breath to respond- “He’s on his way over.” She says glancing between him and who he can only imagine is the very man that had been capturing every other thought he’d had for the past week. His eyes crease at the corners every so slightly as he turns to look over a shoulder to greet the new addition to their conversation with a polite smile.

“Joel, how good to see you again, have you met Miah yet? She’ll be playing Mel.” It would be rude to not introduce them, he thought, especially since they’d all be filming the next few scenes together. Joel gives him a glance and turns his attention towards Miah to extend a hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, you are Vladimir's friend?” A shiver definitely does not try to make its way down his spine upon hearing his full name, and gods does he hope he’s not blushing again. The handshake, he notes, is much slower and longer than the one he had received…he tries not to read into that. He looks up at the woman beside them as their hands part, she clasps hers together in front of herself and gives a polite nod.

“The pleasure’s all mine! I was very excited to hear I’d finally be getting a chance to work with you! And to work with Vlad again too, on the same project no less. We’ve been friends since filming that weird pumpkin themed horror movie a few years back. Have you two worked together before? Vlad didn’t mention it when we went over the cast list together.” She raised her eyebrow as she spoke, her eyes pointedly moving between the two of them, as if trying to hint at something almost. It was at that moment he realized Joel had stopped nearly directly behind him, just barely off to the side enough for them to see each other's faces actually. The cough that escapes him is definitely not nervous, just a tickle is what he tells himself as he brings his hand back down to readjust his cane. He reminds himself to ask Skyler where she’d had them put his chair.

“We haven’t. I met him filming a scene earlier in the week,” the taller man’s eyes move to Vlad again, “I’d like to have a word before we’re called to places. I’ll be in my chair.” He started to turn to leave, eyes moving back to Miah, “I look forward to working with you.” And with that he was walking away. He really didn’t like letting people respond did he? Two of their interactions now he’d ended by just walking away. With a small shake of the head he turns back to his friend, who is now trying to hide some very obvious amusement. She says her next words in a hushed tone, her wrist partially covering her mouth.

“Oh my god he’s so into you.”

“He’s what now?”

Vlad’s jaw drops open and he gives the most incredulous look at the woman across from him. He turns away from her, only to look back at her completely aghast, “He barely looked at me when he was actively speaking to me just now. What about that indicates he’s into me? If anything I’d say he was checking you out!” He emphasizes his words with a flick of the wrist in her direction and tries to keep his voice hushed so nobody overhears their conversation. It is quite embarrassing to be having this conversation while at work actually, something he’d rather keep private.

“Are you kidding me? First of all,” she raises a finger up beside her head. Oh great, she’s making a list, “you didn’t see what his eyes were doing when your back was turned. Second,” another finger and a pointed tilt of the head, “he was staring me down. NOT the same as checking me out. Third,” hopefully the final finger in this conversation raises, “even if he had been we both know he’s nowhere near my type in men. Much too…stoic.” She finishes with a slight downward curl on her lips and a shake of the head before finally putting her hand down to cross her arms over each other. She glanced over his shoulder once more and her eyes just barely widened before she smirks, letting her eyes fall back to his once more. “You better get a move on with your conversation, your man keeps looking at us.” As she looks back again her eyes shift to a new area behind him and stop, her mouth forms a soft ‘o’ and a new look overtakes her and she seems to spot something else, something not Joel he decides. A hand is placed on his shoulder as she very quickly steps around him. Her next words come out quiet as he walks away. “Speaking of my type…I’ll see you on set.” He turns to watch her go with a mild curiosity, eyes following her direction of travel to the prosthetics tent where he could see a very muscular woman with a short ponytail getting pieces attached to her already augmented arm. He gives an impressed hum to himself and nods, he’d definitely have to invite them all out for drinks if for no other reason than to hear about how that develops.

He turns a bit more to face Joel’s direction and notices the other man’s eyes just barely darting down to the script he held in his hand. Vlad begins to make his way over when a very very small chuckle breaks through his lips, any previous tension about how the other perceived him already forgotten. Either he was trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably, or he could read upside down, seeing as that’s the way the script was being held. With a final few steps they’re next to each other and Vlad decides at the last minute he won’t mention the little continuity error in the other's facade.

“Eager to steal my attention eh? I already agreed to have lunch with you.” There’s a chuckle in the way he says it, something light. Joel lifts his eyes from the pages he’d definitely been pretending to read and gives a small hum. His unoccupied hand came up to smooth over his jaw and chin before he spoke, turning his head in his direction but still not fully looking at the man he’s addressing.

“We have a lot of scenes together. It seems our characters become…very good friends, by the end of the season. Over half of the dialogue I’ve read so far is either directed at or talking about your character in some way. We should discuss their dynamic.” With that he turns his head to rest it on his hand, and finally makes eye contact with the other. There’s no real identifiable emotion on his face aside from what seems to be sheer boredom. “I was told by my manager the production team wants them,” he raises his head to make air quotes with the hand he had been leaning on as he continues,”‘strictly platonic with no room for romantic interpretation,’ I assume you were told the same?” Vlad closes his eyes and he lets a little giggle slip at that, bringing the back of his hand up to cover it. He misses the way the other’s light up just a bit more at it.

“I was, yes, I assume you think we should take more creative liberties with it? You wouldn’t be talking to me about it otherwise, correct?” His hand comes back down to rest in his pocket, his posture relaxed, and he gives an inquisitive look. He really hopes he’s about to suggest what he thinks he is.

“Yes. Whether my character knows it or not, he will be in love with yours by the end of the season, and whether yours reciprocates or not is up to you.” He speaks with an air of certainty that leaves no room for discussion, luckily Vlad is already in agreement with him.

“He will. I’m very glad we had this chat actually, I had been planning on adding a level of…longing? I’m aware your character is romantically involved with Miah’s by the second half of the season, however I do love some good old fashioned, one sided, seemingly unrequited tension.” He lets his lip curl up into a mischievous grin as he looks down at the other. “It won’t be too obvious of course, just an underlying something or other to give a bit more depth to their relationship…though it does seem quite deep even without it. They become quite close, no? We should find some time outside of filming to talk, get into character a little as they say.” He’d already said he wanted to find ways to get to know him more, and he fully meant that shit. Whether the reasoning he was giving was the only reason was not important. Joel gives a hum of agreement and looks back down at his script, he’s silent for a second before- oh he’s blushing. He must have finally noticed his script was upside-down.

Credit where it’s due, Joel has a very good poker face aside from the light blush dusted across his cheeks. Vlad keeps his eyes on him as the other clears his throat and closes his script, looking back up as if nothing had even happened. The bell to signal a start rings and places are called, cutting the rest of their conversation short.

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“So far, so good.” He whispers, the glowstick just barely illuminating the lock enough for him to see it. Suddenly a bright light flows over them both, slightly startled he looks directly into it before bringing his hand up to try and deflect some of it. Blinking a few times to correct his eyes he hears a familiar voice in front of him.

“Hmm. Willing to risk exile for your endeavour. That’s quite the conviction.” It’s said with a hint of amusement. They’d filmed this scene a few times already and he felt his lack of lines right here kept making the whole exchange rather awkward. Time for a new strategy I guess.

“Councilor!” He hears from behind him. Quirking a brow up he barely listens to the continued flustered rambling, he feigns confusion and turns back to the keys still in the lock by his face.

“Wait a minute this isn’t my bedroom?” He mutters with mock embarrassment, “How could I have…” Their voices overlap for a second before silence engulfs them. He looks back up at the ‘Councilor’ and sees her fighting for her damn life to keep in the laugh that’s threatening to spill out. She’s come to expect this of him, he supposes, makes it easier to keep her composure. Joel seems as composed as ever, easily continuing on with his lines and it’s only a little disappointing he didn’t laugh. It’s almost too easy the way the rest of the scene flows from there, almost too easy the way Joel looks at Miah with such curiosity and wonder as she walks away with the security guard. Almost too easy how he doesn’t have to fake the way his lips pull up to his nose in distaste, or even the slightly annoyed huff he gives before turning back to the door, bending down to finish unlocking it as the director yells cut. They didn’t have to redo the scene again at least.

Authors note: This shit is 3.5k words and I edited without coffee. Thanks for the love so far! Glad to know yall are liking it. I'll definitely be branching out at some point to do more with Caitvi and Melvika. I'm not sorry about it.

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picklypickle · 1 year ago

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- The only one -

a/n: hiii everyone!! this is my first little story, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, if you want to see more of my writing feel free to send me a request!! Enjoy! ;) words: 1.9k

warnings: tiny bit of swearing, I wrote this with a fem reader, kinda jealous Melissa

When you walk into the staff room in the morning, the first person you notice is your beautiful girlfriend, sitting at her usual table, sipping her coffee with her work wife, Barb, right next to her. At first, she doesn’t notice you, being way too preoccupied by whatever story Barbara is telling. But when she does turn to you, with a frown still on her face from the conversation that was happening prior, her gaze softens and she gives you a soft smile only you can recognize as an “I love you”.

“There she is!” you hear Jacob saying from across the room “Where were you? How come you didn’t get here at the same time as Melissa? Oh no, did you guys fight?” He nervously says as he quickly makes his way over to you.

“Nooo!! No no, I was just running a little bit late so I told Mel to leave without me, thank you for your concern tho!” you laugh.

Everyone at Abbott knew you and Melissa were together, infact, they were the ones who had gotten you two together in the first place, six months ago and they were the biggest fans too. If anything ever happened between you two, your colleagues would probably be more crushed than you and your own girlfriend.

You hear the teacher’s lounge door open and turn around to see who it might be. Suddenly, one of your very close friends and fellow teacher at Abbott, Lauryn, bursts into the room with her usual smile plastered on her face. When she sees you waving, she makes her way over to you.

“Hey girl!! Such a nice day today huh?” she says.

“It is! Oh my god I love your dress!!” you exclaim as you look up and down at her outfit. She is wearing the most beautiful flower patterned dress. You make a mental note to look online for a similar one when you get home tonight.

“Thank you so much!! You know, I bet it would make that perfect ass of yours stand out, you should get one.” She says and proceeds to lick her lips.

You blush out of embarrassment. Did she forget you are with someone? Even worse, that Melissa is literally sitting not even 2 meters from where this very awkward interaction just took place and heard it? You quickly try and look at Jacob, trying to see if he heard the same thing, but unfortunately, he has already left and is talking to Gregory. You quickly glance over at your girlfriend who you can tell very well, has her fists clenched so hard and is fuming right now.

“Uh, thanks!” you try to say as normally as possible, trying to hide the confusion in your face.�� “Um anyways, I really have to go, the kids are going to get here soon.” You quickly say and wave goodbye, smiling at her. You rush out of the room, wanting to get away from this whole situation as fast as possible. However, Melissa notices this weird behavior, as she is getting up to come check on you Barb sits her back down.

“Melissa, you heard what she said, the kids will be getting here soon, she probably just wants to prepare everything.” she says “And besides i'm not done with my story yet, so sit back down.” she adds, while tugging at her sleeve to bring her back down.

When you get to your classroom, you start writing everything you need down on the board, such as the date and the kids schedule that they can rely on during the day. While you’re writing with your favouite purple dry erase marker, your mind starts to wander off. You start to think about how everyone has been telling you for weeks now that Lauryn might be in love with you, but you’ve just been denying it and shrugging it off. But now, you’re starting to wonder if it’s actually true. It’s not like you’re into Lauryn or anything, you have the best girlfriend in the world! Infact, Lauryn’s flirty comments are starting to make you feel uncomfortable, you thought she knew that you were dating Melissa…maybe she forgot?

Before you know it, the bell rings and your little kiddos are running in and hugging you like they normally do every morning. You snap out of your thoughts and start your lesson, you’ll deal with the issue eventually, but for now, all that matters is your students.

★

After lunch was your free period while your students were in gym class. Today, you preferred to avoid everyone and stay in your classroom to do some grading on the most recent test.

Just as you put a sticker on the last copy, you hear a soft knock at the door, you turn arround expecting to see Melissa but you’re met with Lauryn’s grin, holding her cellphone.

“Hey! Am I bothering you?” She asks, peeking into your classroom to see if anyone else is there.

“Nope, I just finished grading these papers.” You reply, gesturing to the stack of documents on the corner of your desk.

“Ahhh alright well, I need to show you this video, it’s so us!” She says excitedly and comes to stand next to where you’re sitting down.

You start to watch the video but quickly realise it’s dedicated to couples… you stop paying attention and focus more on the reflection of the glass of the phone, when you see Lauryn, she’s not.. looking at the video? You try to see what she’s looking at and realize that she is staring directly at your cleavage, practically drooling too. You get red. You get uncomfortable. You start to pray for her to leave or someone to wal-

Someone knocks at the door, again.

“Am I interrupting something?” You look up, recognizing the voice.

Melissa is standing at the door, hands on her hips.

“Oh hey Melissa!” says Lauryn “You aren’t interrupting anything, I was just showing Y/N this video.” She goes to show Mel the clip.

Your girlfriend clearly also realizes the video is meant for couples and clears her throat, crossing her arms. This makes you look up at her. You can see that she’s jealous, she is part of the group of people that think Lauryn is in love with you and she is also not having it right now.

“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it!” Says Lauryn, she waves goodbye at the two of you and walks out of your classroom. Clearly she knows that you and Mel are together, so what is this all about?

You and your girlfriend stare at eachother for what feels like forever, until you decide to speak up first.

“Look I d-” You start.

“What the hell was that?” Your girlfriend cuts you off.

“Listen Melissa, I have no idea she just, ugh!” You say, being exhausted from this whole situation “Please don’t be mad, I don’t feel like fighting, I’ll talk to her later.” You finish.

“Hon,I'm not mad, heck if anything I'm jealous!” she says, uncrossing her arms and slowly walking towards you “She’s always making these comments and remarks about your body and undressing you with her eyes! I’m the only one who gets to do that here. And the worst part is, I can tell you hate it, it makes you extremely uncomfortable.” She continues, bending down infront of you and resting her hands on the armrests of your chair. You blush, she knows you perfectly.

“It does.” You say, getting more and more red. You quickly look down at her lips, unknowingly licking your own. The redhead in front of you notices.

“I know it does” she answers, bending her face down to yours, your mouths are inches away from each other “And no, i’ll be the one to do something about it.”

You smile before kissing her softly, she kisses you back with just as much softness. After a moment, the kiss starts to turn more and more hungry. She places her hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You smile into the kiss. The school bell suddenly rings, signaling that you have to go get your kids from the gym.

You groan as you pull away from her mouth

“Fuck, I have to go get my kids at the gym! I’m so sorry Mel, I'll talk to you later!” You quickly peck her lips before exiting your class.

Melissa stays there for a moment, smiling to herself, thinking about how much she loves you.

★

It’s the end of the day, you students have alrea dy gone home and all that’s left to do is go down to the teacher’s lounge to collect your things that you had left there.

When you get there, you’re greeted by all your friends who are also gathering their things.

“Hey girl, did you have a good day? I didn’t see you around much?” Asks Janine, with a small frown, her face slightly coated in worry.

“Yes I had a good day, I just had a lot of grading to do and preferred to do it in my own space.” You reply reassuringly.

“Oh okay!” She smiles at you.

“Hey, uh, Y/N?” You recognize the voice, it’s Lauryn “Do you think maybe.. you’d wanna um, get drinks or something tonight?” She asks nervously.

“Uh, um” you have no idea what to say “I uh..”

Melissa, who was talking to Barb as per usual, notices you and Lauryn right away and decides that this is her time to shine, this is where this little Lauryn thing stops.

“Hey, Lauryn?” Melissa says while approaching you from behind “Have you ever noticed in the last six months that, I don’t know, me and Y/N are dating? Or did you just think we were joking?”

“Oh! Well..” The girl in front of you says

“Save it glasses, and save up that money for a new pair because this one isn’t working” Mel says “Now back the fuck off before I throw you down the stairs and the only drinks you’ll be getting are jello cups from the hospital” She finishes, before quickly turning around to grab her things and you by the arm and dragging you out the door.

“Oh, bye guys!!” She loudly says to everyone else in the room to make sure everyone heard.

“Bye Melissa!” Janine awkwardly says and makes her way towards Lauryn to check on her, not to comfort her, just to make sure no one ends up hating her in the future.

★

When you get to Melissa’s car, you can’t help but smile at her, and then well, laugh. You had no idea she was going to do this right then and there but she did. She joins the laughing fit after a few seconds.

“Oh how I love you!” You kiss her passionately before turning to your own car “I’ll see you at home sweetheart!” You yell at her before shutting your car door and starting your engine.

“I love you more hon, i’ll cook you your favorite pasta for dinner!” She yells back before shutting her car door as well.

With that, you both drive away to where was originally only Melissa’s house, but is now yours too, and you plan on it being for a very long time. Plus, you get to look for that new dress you want!

#melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #oneshot #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #i love her

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morgana-larkin · 1 year ago

Note

helloooo!! I’ve been reading your fics for a while and I just had a prompt for Melissa that I’ll hope you will consider writing!

So it’s set in that episode where Abbott goes to a field trip to the park and Melissa is beefing with that teacher from the other school. Reader is a teacher from Abbott and that other teacher takes an interest in reader and flirts with her and tries to ask her out BUT Melissa and reader are dating so if Melissa didn’t like that teacher before, she most certainly despises her now. You can choose what Melissa does as a show of jealousy 🥰

Hi! I’m happy you’re enjoying my fics, anon! And I do love to write a good Jealous Mel fic. No there isn’t smut in this but there is a reference. And I did skip a few prompts and wrote this one first but hey you get two fics in 2 days soooo…. Anyway, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I got a big fic that I’m currently writing, I’m not saying anything about it but I think all of you will love it. 😉😏. Also I asked @babytakeittothehead to create a gif from the episode specifically for this prompt so thank you 🙏🏻

Park Rivalry

Warnings: Jealous Mel, reference to smut, a bit of swearing

Words: 3.26k

“Field trip worksheets, hot off the press!” Jacob says and hands you and Melissa a binder.

“What in the hot hell is this?” Melissa asks and you snort.

“Jacob, nobody needs this.” Barb tells him and hands the binder back to him. “You pulled off a field trip with no money and no help. Baby relax.”

“Yeah, we’re going to the park. Kids don’t wanna work. We don’t wanna work. Ava definitely doesn’t want to work.” She says and you nod as you place an arm on her shoulder as you both look at the binder.

“I never do. And today I get to not work while lounging in my air chair. I love furniture that rhymes.” Ava says and walks away.

“Yeah. So knock it off with the worksheets, or you’re gonna ruin this trip.” Melissa says to him.

“Ya Jacob, field trips are supposed to be fun, not educational and boring.” You tell him as you hand your binder back to him.

“Ah Morton. For all your flaws, I know you appreciate the value of education.” Jacob says and hands Mr. Morton a binder.

“Ah thanks buddy. You’re a lifesaver.” Morton says and then proceeds to use one of the papers as a napkin and throws the binder in the trash. You see the disappointment on Jacob’s face and you proceed to laugh and he gives you a pout.

You, Melissa and Barb get off the bus and you see Ava running around trying to fill her chair with air.

“My air chair needs air, and there’s no wind.” She says, disappointed.

“Try running north to south.” Barb says and you try not to laugh.

“Ms. Schemmenti, a kid pushed me.” A kid runs up to Melissa and you start to walk off with your kids to another spot in the playground, you do hear Melissa’s response and you love seeing her with the kids.

“Oh, no. You okay kiddo? Which kid?” Melissa asks her.

A few minutes later and you see the camera crew pulled Melissa aside and asks her a few questions.

About 10 minutes later you make your way over to where Melissa, Barb and Jacob are talking to the Liberty teachers.

“We just, you know, want to keep things fair.” Melissa tells them as you make your way over to her side and you put your hand on her lower back.

“Alright well you know, life’s not fair.” She says as you, Jacob, Barb and Melissa start to walk away. “You have to teach at Abbott so…” The teacher adds and all four of you turn back around.

“What?!?” You say.

“Excuse you!?!” Melissa snaps as she surges forward with anger.

“The audacity!” Barb says at the same time with a step forward.

Jacob holds both Melissa and Barb back and gives a reply. “No, we get to teach at Abbott.”

“Ya well I get to be lactose intolerant.” The teacher replies with and the Liberty teachers walk away.

“I shouldn’t punch someone at the park right?” Melissa says.

“No.” Jacob immediately tells her.

“You know I thought if anyone was gonna ruin this field trip for the kids it was gonna be you.” You hear Melissa tell Jacob and you giggle. Melissa hears you laugh as you stand next to her. “Hey Morton, are your students having any trouble with the Liberty kids today?” She says and Mr Morton comes up to you all.

“I honestly have no idea. I’ve been angrily texting my ex-wife all morning. She thinks she should get the grill. What’s a woman gonna do with a grill?” He says with a confused tone.

“You’re scum.” Jacob quickly tells him. “Listen, these Liberty teachers have got to be stopped.” He says and you look at Melissa.

“Wait, your students are having trouble with the other school students as well?” You say to them and Melissa turns to you and nods. “I’ve been talking with one of the teachers all morning to try and sort it out but nothing is being solved.” You say with a bit of annoyance in your voice.

“Which teacher?” Melissa asks and you point at the one.

“The one we were just talking too, Ms. Barco.” You tell her and she huffs.

“We’ve been dealing with her as well. And she keeps throwing insults at us.” Melissa tells you while Jacob is pacing back and forth.

“They’ve been insulting you?” You ask surprised and she turns to look at you.

“She hasn’t insulted you?” She asks.

“No, she’s been nice but like I said, they’re not doing anything about their students' behaviour.” You tell them and Melissa angrily looks at the teacher.

“Y’all need to let it go, it’s not that deep. I’m trying to listen to an oral history of oral history, and I can’t hear it over all y’all’s pettiness.” Ava pipes up then puts her earphone back in.

All of a sudden, a red ball comes bouncing your way and Melissa catches it. You all then look at where it came from and see one of the Liberty teachers stepping forward.

“Hey uh, that’s our ball. Toss it back? Just as far as you can. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.” She tells Melissa and you widen your eyes at the comment towards your girlfriend. You surge forward a bit but you get held back by Jacob and you then look at Melissa who seems to get an idea of what to do with the ball.

“Maybe not throw it at her face.” You tell her and she looks at you and huffs.

“Fine.” She says and then kicks the ball and the Liberty kids complain as well as the teacher who just insulted Melissa.

“Seriously?” The Liberty teacher says, annoyed.

“Slow down, you don’t wanna hurt yourself.” Melissa teases and you giggle. Melissa wraps her arm around your shoulders while she gives Barb a high five.

About 10 minutes later Melissa is watching you and Ms. Barco talking and she decides to go and see what you’re talking about. She was about to start walking when she freezes in place when Ms. Barco touches your arm and you both continue talking like it didn’t happen. Melissa balls her hands into fists.

“She ain’t getting away with that!” Melissa says angrily and Jacob and Barb turn to see what she’s looking at. Jacob runs a little to stop Melissa when she started storming off to you and Ms. Barco.

“We can’t have more conflict with that school.” Jacob tells her and she gives Jacob a glare.

“She’s flirting with my girl.” Melissa says angrily and points to you. Jacob takes a look at you and then back to Melissa.

“It doesn’t look like Y/N is flirting back with her.” Jacob says calmly.

“I know that, but it doesn’t matter. No one can flirt with my girlfriend and get away with it, especially a Liberty teacher.” Melissa says and tries to free her arm from Jacob’s grip.

Melissa sees you walking away from the teacher and start walking towards where she is. Jacob sees all the rage leave Melissa so he finally lets go of her arm. Melissa meets you halfway and puts an arm around your shoulders and sends a glare to Ms. Barco behind her.

“What did she say to you?” Melissa asks you and you look at her.

“Not much, we were just talking about what we do outside of school.” You tell her and you feel her grip on you tighten. “But how about we just have some fun. They’re over there and we got the good side of the park.” You tell her and she smiles at you as you continue to walk where all the kids are.

At lunchtime you all walk over to the trees where you put your lunches.

“Ok kiddos. Let’s go get us our lunches and get in the shade.” Melissa says with you walking right beside her.

“Oh thank goodness, let’s get out of the sun.” Barb says while trying to fan herself.

You then all look at the shady spot and see Liberty school there. You see Ms. Barco there as well and she sees you all looking at her.

“Oh, we had to move your little lunches. I hope it’s not a problem.” She says with a fake apologetic tone while pointing to where they put Abbott’s lunches in the sun. The kids start whining at that as you all walk to your lunches.

“That was supposed to be our spot.” Jacob says furiously.

“They threw our lunches into the sun!” Barb says dramatically.

“I have never known evil like that, and I have been to a cowboys home game.” Melissa says and you hold her hand to help calm her down. “You two.” Melissa says as she spots Janine and Gregory. “Where have you been? We’re at war here.” Melissa says and she takes a deep breath when she feels you squeeze her hand.

“War?” Janine says confused.

“With the park?” Gregory asks, just as confused.

Jacob then ushers Gregory to another spot to chat while you and the other teachers make sure that all the kids get their lunch and sit somewhere.

You, Melissa and Barb sit on one of the benches when everyone starts eating. “You know hot PB&J is considered a delicacy in a lot of places. It’s like a panini basically.” Melissa says and takes a bite. “So we’re being fancy.” She adds on and chuckles. You giggle at her actions from right beside her and she looks at you with a smile.

“Ha! Y’all did this to yourselves.” Ava says with a laugh.

“Ava, you’re deflating.” Janine says unimpressed.

“Hey, how are your warm, toasty sandwiches?” Ms Barco says as she walks over with a cold drink in hand and takes a sip.

“What did you say about our sandwiches?” Melissa says while standing up, anger activated immediately. She goes to stand in front of Ms. Barco while you and Barb join her so she doesn’t do something stupid.

“I just wanted to come and ask if Y/N wanted to come join us in the nice shade.” Ms. Barco says confidently to Melissa then looks at you with a flirty smile. Melissa immediately moves you to go stand behind her.

“I’d rather eat with my friends in the sun.” You tell her, half behind Melissa, who is giving a death stare to the teacher.

“You know what, why don’t we just not interact for the rest of the afternoon?” Barb suggests.

“What if I want to interact with Y/N?” Ms. Barco asks while looking at you and winks.

“Like hell you will!” Melissa says, almost with a growl to her voice.

“And why can I not interact with her?�� Ms. Barco says and crosses her arms.

“She’s an Abbott teacher not a Liberty one, and most importantly she’s MY girlfriend!” Melissa says with a lot of anger.

Ms. Barco chuckles. “You’re together?” She asks in disbelief and you nod. “Must be slim pickings at Abbott, how about I take you out on a date instead?” She says with a flirty look in her eyes. You and Barb had to hold Melissa back when she began to charge forward, wanting to punch the teacher that just asked you out.

“Melissa, no punching anyone.” You tell her in a whisper. She glares at the teacher while still seething inside but you keep a firm grip on her arm.

“Look, we are about to take our students to the slide, so you all have a nice day.” Barb tells Ms. Barco. Ms. Barco looks at you and Melissa then back to Barb.

“Actually we’re going to the slide right now. So…”

Just as she says that, Melissa scoffs and Barb says “say what?” At the same time.

“Although I’ll make an exception for Y/N and her class.” Ms. Barco says, she just keeps digging a bigger hole for herself.

“She ain’t going anywhere with youse.” Melissa says while pointing her finger at her.

“Oh my god, let it go. This is stupid playground beef. Y’all are being more childish than the kids.” Ava says annoyed.

Then Crystal, Ava’s arch enemy shows up and Ava declares a relay race.

“Winner takes all! The slide and the pride!” Barb shouts in excitement.

“Yeah, so just those two things!” Melissa says and you can’t help but giggle at her comment.

“Today! These two crews: Abbott Elementary…” Ava says loudly so everyone can hear.

“And Liberty rings!” Crystal says and all the Liberty teachers and students cheer. Ms. Barco makes eye contact with you and winks at you. You get nervous that she’s not backing down since she was told that you’re in a relationship, if anything, she’s flirting with you more. Melissa saw the wink and she slips an arm around your waist while glaring at the teacher. You lean into her touch and Melissa sends a smirk to the teacher.

“Will battle it out, will battle it out, park style!” Ava adds. “A relay race through the playground. You all know the risks. It’s what you signed up for.” She finishes.

“And winner gets dibs on the big wooden slide!” Crystal adds and then everyone cheers.

You’re all in a huddle before you have to do the relay race. “Clear eyes, full hearts, elbows out, hip checks, whatever it takes. Let’s be aggressive out there.” Ava says and Melissa nods in agreement.

“Yeah, especially with Ms. Barco.” Melissa says.

“Wait. Where’s Janine and Gregory?” Jacob says as he looks around.

“Oh, who cares? Janine would just slow us down. She’s got little limbs.” Melissa says and you send her a look.

“Melissa!” You scold her and she gives you a confused look.

“Do you want to beat them or not?” Melissa asks you.

“And let’s be real, Gregory’s never really been one of us.” Ava adds.

“Look, we need everybody. I can’t carry this team all by myself.” Barb says

“Mmm. All right.” Melissa says and then Ava goes looking for them.

“Y/N! Why don’t you join the winning team!” Ms. Barco says and motions for you to go over and join their team and you look at her and blush a bit. You weren’t attracted to her but she keeps singling you out, and in front of Melissa.

“That’s why she’s with us! We’re gonna beat your asses!” Melissa tells her and Ms. Barco rolls her eyes.

Ava returns a few minutes later with Janine and Gregory and you go over what everyone is doing.

“Alright, everyone know what they’re doing?” Ava asks.

“Yeah.” Barb says.

“Wait. I want the monkey bars.” Janine suddenly says.

“What? You got a bet on the other team or something?” Melissa says and you have to agree with Melissa.

Janine ends up getting the monkey bars and you all go to take your places around the playground. You know Melissa is going to be standing next to Ms. Barco for a few minutes so you lean into her before you part.

“Don’t punch or kill her.” You tell her and she sighs.

“I’ll try, but only because you’re asking me too.” She tells you and you go over to the hopscotch place that one of the kids drew. As you see the relay race start, you look over to Melissa and she keeps glaring at Ms. Barco and then she looks your way and then watches the relay race. You see Gregory on the tricycle, pedalling towards you and he claps his hand with yours and you do the hopscotch perfectly and quickly before Liberty and then you run towards Melissa and tag her.

“Go Melissa!” You cheer her on and then she tags Janine and you run towards her. Ms. Barco is near you guys and she puts an arm around your waist as soon as you’re next to her.

“Hey baby.” Melissa says and then smirks at Ms. Barco. You both watch Janine do the monkey bars. “Go Janine! Come on Janine!” Melissa yells.

“Go Janine!” You yell as well. “You got this!”

You both watch Janine finish the monkey bars before the Liberty teacher does and then she starts dancing and you look taken back.

“Stop dancing, Janine. Stop!” Melissa yells and then Janine tags Barb. You and Melissa run to the finish line to cheer Barb on and to see who will win. “Go Barb go!” Melissa yells as she exits the small tunnel.

“Wooo-ohh, let’s go Barb!” You shout as she’s ahead of the other teacher. She then starts slowing down, thinking she’s got this.

“Satan right behind you, girl!” Ava yells.

Barb looks back and immediately starts running full speed again and makes it to the finishing line before the Liberty teacher and all of the Abbott teachers cheer, hug and high five each other. You and Melissa hug each other and then you give her a kiss.

“You’re welcome kids!” Melissa says and then you all look around and notice all of your kids are missing, even the Liberty ones.

“Kids?” Jacob says and you all go off looking for them.

“Let’s check out the slide, maybe they’re there.” You suggest and you all walk to the slide. Sure enough they were all there and both the schools were getting along just fine.

“Looks like the children can get along quite well without us.” Barb says with a smile.

“Okay, but her kid shoved my kid.” Melissa says, almost sounding like a 5 year old.

“No, your kid shoved my kid.” Ms. Barco replies back with.

“We’re done.” Barb says, not bothering to turn around.

“I guess the adults are to blame here.” Crystal says. “I’m sorry, soror.” She says to Ava.

“And I’m sorry.” Ava says. “That we had to beat your ass!” She says after a second and all the Abbott teachers begin to cheer again.

“Boom!” Melissa says as she gives Jacob a chest bump, causing him to stumble into another teacher. You and Melissa then kiss again and then Melissa looks over at Ms. Barco who was looking at you two and she crosses her arms and huffs before turning to face the kids. Melissa smirks at her actions, knowing that she got the message. Melissa puts her arm around your shoulders and rubs her hand up and down your arm and smiles at you.

When you and Melissa get home, Melissa begins kissing you roughly and you know exactly what she wants right now. She then picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bedroom.

The next day, Gregory comes walking in, with Jacob limping behind him. Gregory looks at Ava with a cast around her neck.

“Shut up, Gregory.” Ava says while pouring a bunch of sugar in her coffee.

“I said nothing.” He says as he takes in all your injuries. “But I did tell you all to stretch.” He says with a smile on his face.

Just then Mr. Johnson comes in with his pants way up to his chest.

“You all look ridiculous.” He says with a smile.

“Us? What about you?” Melissa says as you all take in his outfit, you try to hold in a laughter. “Where does your waist end and your neck begin?” She says with a small chuckle.

“If that’s supposed to be a pick up line, it’s working.” He says while looking at Melissa and then walks out.

Melissa gives a weird and confused look to the camera and you burst out laughing.

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#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #law

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