#got better coverage than others)

[roseband]

...

[aparticularbandit]

Today, I'm planning on finishing the last batch of WIP requests (not this week's, last week's), and then I'm looking at the prompt in my askbox.

And a Finding Family variation.

...and also maybe something else.

[miss-floral-thief]

lol

I hope my bros friend has some spare sunscreen

[lizard-ratt]

This idea got stuck in my head, not to be taken too seriously. If you find any typos, no you didn't <3

Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

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

Steve Harrington knew how to haggle. Raised by the most cutthroat business man in all of the state of Indiana, if not the United States as a whole, he knew the ins and outs of getting the best deal possible. He used this to his advantage a lot more than anyone knew.

The first time he brought out Steven Elias Harrington, son of Richard Jay Harrington was when he first got forced to sign NDAs to keep quiet about everything going on in Hawkins, Indiana. Despite only having shown up at the end, he still had a fat stack of papers to work through.

And he worked through the entire thing, taking his sweet precious time to read the entire thing, word for word. He signed nothing that day, letting the government employees watch as he took notes on every little detail, humming to himself, scoffing, and overall being as annoying about it as possible.

"These are terrible. Do better." He didn't say that exactly, but it was the general consensus as he gave them a verbal dressing down that would make his father proud (and his father was never proud). He made demands for money, for protections, for anything that he could think of. By the end, the government had agreed to provide him with a heaping helping of cash (enough to buy a house and help him live a comfortable life for the next twenty-or-so odd years), government provided medical insurance (complete coverage for the rest of his life), and a full ride scholarship for any college he wanted to go to.

Suffice to say he had rung that towel dry of anything he could ask of it. He knew that those government employees wished nothing but the worst for him, but he was satisfied with what he got, and he happily signed the fifth NDA they provided him with, flourishing his signature with relish.

Then, he became even more wrapped up in the whole thing when Dustin Henderson decided to raise a baby Demogorgon in his basement. A lot happened in those forty-eight hours, but the main one was that he got attached to the little shits, so he told them in no uncertain terms that they were not to sign anything before he looked the paperwork over.

They scoffed, rolled their eyes, but ultimately agreed. It was a very amusing few days, to say the least. The government agents (the same ones as last time) showed up with their giant stacks of paper, and came face to face with Steven Elias Harrington, and he could just see them die a little bit inside. He could practically hear what remained of their souls wither to dust.

And again, he forced them to sit as he read through every NDA, taking notes, scoffing, humming, and overall being a nuisance to them and their time. Then, he got the kids' attentions (as their eyes started to glaze over after minute thirty) and began his process.

The looks of pure awe, too, would be treasured for a very long time as he got their college tuitions paid for, government-provided medical insurance for the rest of their lives, and of course a big fat pile of cash ready for when they would turn seventeen years old. Each of them had enough money lined up for them that they wouldn't have to worry about anything until maybe their late fifties to early sixties if they were bad with their money.

And of course, he got himself another big pile of cash and access to the best lawyers in the United States if he would ever have need of it.

After that, he shouldn't have been surprised when everyone came to him for help post-Battle of Starcourt (dubbed by Dustin, of course). This time, he took two solid weeks pushing and pulling Uncle Sam in this direction and that to make sure everyone got what they needed. (Another fat stack of cash for everyone, legal protection for whatever they'd need it for, and a cover story that made everyone look the best that they possibly could. He also got college payment for Robin, since she wasn't there the first time, as well as the same medical insurance he got everyone else). Those government employees looked at Steve like he was the devil himself.

"You kinda are," Robin told him one day, after Steve recounted the specifics. "I mean, you are bleeding the government dry."

He gave her a grin. "Absolutely, I am."

Then, he and his merry band of misfits saved the world, stopping the Upside Down for good. The same government goons showed up, and instead of doing what they tried to do the previous time, they just came to Steve with all of the NDAs, and asked in the most sarcastically professional voice imaginable, "Are these up to your standers, Mr. Harrington?"

He gave his charming, King Steve smile and told them that he'd read it over. In the hospital room that held Max and Eddie, Steve pulled up a table and allowed everyone to watch as he flipped page after page, noting down the loophole phrases and weak protections, and every single trap meant to put them into a worse-off position and he threw it in the government's faces.

In return, he forced everything his heart could imagine out of them.

Another giant hunk of change for each of them.

Eddie Munson free of all charges, effective immediately

Government-provided medical insurance for Eddie Munson for the rest of his long, long life

A cover story so beautiful, so concrete that it got even the most closed minded to look at Steve's People and call them heroes.

A house for Eddie and his Uncle Wayne

"I hope I never see your face ever again," the man told Steve, forgoing all niceties at that point. "You're going to burn in hell."

"I'll save you both a seat," he told him with his sweetest, most charming smile.

The government agents left, and in their wake, Eddie Munson looked at him like he hung the sun, moon, and stars in the sky.

"Wow," was all the metalhead was able to get out for a while. "Just wow."

Robin glanced between Steve and Eddie, leaned into his side and quietly sang, "The lovers, the dreamers, and me."

Now on AO3

[itsbenedict]

That's Right: It's Another Hot Take About That Dead Healthcare CEO

The websites are abuzz with debate on the utilitarian calculus of whether some guy getting shot was a good thing. What are the odds that the assassination will scare the horrible greedy health insurance companies into changing their ways and fixing the system? Is it worth killing someone over? Will the fear of being blasted by some guy with stylishly-engraved bullets put the fat cats in line? Or will their greed win out over their fear, leaving the nightmarish system unchanged?

Well, what if that was totally irrelevant?

You may have seen a graph that looks like this:

I've seen a few of these going around. These are the rates at which various health insurance companies say "no, you don't get the money" when someone says "hey I need money for this medical thing". UHC, the one whose CEO got shot, is notably really bad in this respect. They've got algorithmic claims denials and all kinds of nasty things that people don't like. All that money they're saving on paying out on claims must be making them rich, right? Let's look at their own financial reports:

Whoa! Big numbers! Six percent looks like a small number, but multiply and they make like thirty billion dollars doing this! That's a lot, right?

Well hang on. They're an insurance company. We can roughly model their profit as the amount people pay them for insurance, minus the amount they have to pay out for claims. Let's look at 2023: simple subtraction, their expenses are $339.2 billion. We simplify other overhead and assume that's all claims. So... that represents those 67% of claims they don't reject. What happens if they approve all the claims?

Multiply: $506.3 billion. They don't have that kind of money. They have $371.6 billion in revenue. So okay- they have to deny some claims. That's pretty normal. But let's pretend they're extremely afraid of assassins now and want to be completely non-greedy: they're okay making zero profit. They make $32.4 billion in profit- how many otherwise-rejected claims can they now afford to approve?

...uh. Well, they can afford to pay out, at most, 73.4% of claims. Still a denial rate of 26.6%, higher than most of their competitors. Not a huge improvement. And in reality, they can't afford to make 0 profit- a company that's making 0 profit is a company investors pull out of immediately, leaving it to collapse, because they can make more money investing in the ones that aren't as afraid of assassins. They've got to at least hover around the same profit margin as their competitors. Which is...

That's average profit margins for the whole US healthcare industry. So, okay, if we match those other companies' profit margins and try to hover around 3-4%... uh. Wait. Hang on. Here's another graph with more recent data on UHC specifically:

Wait, they're still just making that little 3-4% profit margin, even with all these shady automated denials- so how are those other companies doing better on claims? They're obviously not less greedy. They must be making more money somehow, right?

(My guess, sight-unseen, would be that they charge more for their plans, or offer less comprehensive coverage, or use a network of less expensive providers, or other things that make the amount they have to pay out smaller and the amount they're taking in larger. I don't feel like doing a comprehensive consumer review of what every insurance provider's healthcare plans are, but there's always these tradeoffs to make. UHC seems to be offering the tradeoff of "better or cheaper care, on paper" for "but there's a higher risk of getting denied", which is one annoying tradeoff among many.)

Okay But That's Enough Graphs

"Yeah yeah yeah shut up about profit margins and coverage tradeoffs. Is it a good thing that the CEO got shot or not?"

Well, their profit margin at the time he was shot was 3.63%. A company can't survive making 0 or less, so whatever effect fear of assassination has on UHC's greediness, it is going to be no larger than 3.63%.

They may learn the lesson that having their denial rates too high will get them assassinated. Accordingly, they may decrease that metric- by charging higher premiums, kicking expensive doctors out of their network, or reducing their stated coverage. They will not (because they cannot, without ceasing to exist as a company) simply start approving more claims without squeezing their customers elsewhere. They legally cannot do that. No matter how afraid you make the CEOs, you cannot make them afraid to a degree larger than their profit margin.

Well What The Fuck, Then

Like, what, are we supposed to accept that things will literally never get better and that this horrorshow is the best we can hope for? That's some bullshit! If we can't scare the CEOs, who can we scare?

Man I dunno.

Like, for some reason healthcare is stupid expensive! People can't afford to pay for healthcare without insurance- it's like thousands of dollars for basic procedures! Why? Maybe...

Doctors inflate their prices 10x because they know insurance companies will use complicated legal tricks to only pay 10% of the asking price, and this is a constantly escalating price war that serves mainly to fuck over the uninsured

Drug manufacturers and health technology companies fight tooth and nail to maintain monopolies over treatment, so they can charge gazillions to make back the gazillions they had to spend on FDA approval trials

(Trials those same companies lobby to keep necessary because the more money you have to pay for FDA approval, the harder it is for competitors to enter the market since they don't already have the gazillions)

Doctors operate as a cartel and lobby to gatekeep access to medical training so that they can keep doctoring a prestigious and exclusive position, and keep their own salaries high enough to pay their medical school debt and make them rich afterwards- leading to a (profitable) shortage of medical professionals

There is no limit to how expensive things can get but how much people are physically capable of paying, because frequently the alternative to "pay a ridiculous amount for healthcare" is "die", and so healthcare is subject to near-infinitely inelastic demand

Also like a thousand other equally annoying and complicated perverse incentives and stupid situations

This is the human condition: Shit is annoying and complicated and difficult to fix, pretty much 100% of the time forever. A few bullets in some fucko's back isn't really going to make a dent.

(But like, sure, fuck that guy. He probably sucked, as do the hundred other identical suits in line to replace him. Just... don't expect this to help.)

[alex51324]

Now, more than ever, we need to be careful about spreading misinformation and rumors

I can guarantee that over the next few months, we'll be hearing about a lot of alarming things going on here in the US. Some of those things will be true, and some won't. (And some will have both true and false or exaggerated elements.)

It's going to be absolutely vital that important information is not drowned out by misinformation, rumors, and ragebait.

That means, when you see something that would be important if true, before sharing, you check whether it's actually true.

In library world, we use the acronym SIFT:

STOP: Don't spread the information, or get caught up in your emotional reaction to it, before you've checked it out. INVESTIGATE: Who is saying it? How do they know? If there are links or sources in the post, do they actually say what the person is saying they do? FIND other coverage: Do an internet search for key details: quotes, people's names, specific locations. If something major is happening, there will normally be a lot of coverage. TRACE claims, quotes, and media back to their original context.

Usually you don't need to do all four things: just STOP and then pick what makes sense from the other three. If you decide to share the information, you can also say what you did--"This is a firsthand account from XYZ protest; it lines up with what the local TV station is saying, but has a lot more details about what the cops did," or whatever.

The more urgent the information seems, the more important it is to make sure it's reliable.

If we're hearing every other day that this or that vulnerable group is in immediate, life-threatening danger--but 49 times out of 50 it turns out to mean Trump rambled somewhere about something which, if actually implemented, could end up having the described consequences at some point down the line--then people aren't going to know the difference the one time in 50 when the danger really is immediate.

Think, here, things like immigration crackdowns, CPS investigations into parents who affirm a trans child's gender, or demands that health care providers report miscarriages to law enforcement. We all know that these are things Trump World talks about a lot and would like to be able to do, in some form. For the sake of the people affected by these topics, we need different ways of talking about, "Here they are, back on their bullshit," versus, "This is a policy proposal for a real thing that could happen," versus, "Holy shit, grab the kids and run."

We cannot go to "Holy shit, grab the kids and run" every time Trump, or someone in his inner circle, decides to bloviate about something that could disastrously affect people lives. The people who are most in danger can't stay at DefCon 5 every day of their lives, and when they do really have to grab the kids and run, we need that alarm to be heard over the constant background hum of dread.

The same goes for action items--whether protests, ways to help, or little things people can do to stay safe/sane. There's going to be plenty going on, and nobody is going to be able to do everything, so do your part by passing along those things that you can vouch are true and important, and skipping the things you aren't sure about.

I'll leave you with an example. Remember how a few years ago, we were all-in about hand hygiene and disinfecting surfaces? And then it turned out that those were not actually very important in terms of preventing the transmission of COVID-19, and what we really need is better air filtration in public spaces--but, at my work at least, we still have canisters of surface-disinfecting wipes sitting around, and tattered old signs up about hand hygiene, and no air filters.

At the time, early in the pandemic, we were sharing the best information we knew about how to stay safe, but people got a little too fixated on that initial advice--remember how people would wipe down their groceries? And those little sticks for pressing elevator buttons?--and then when the advice changed, they didn't want to hear about it.

Distrust, fatigue, superstitious attachment to the old grocery-wiping ways--there were a lot of reasons, but the key thing to take away is that attention, energy, and goodwill are all finite resources. Try to avoid wasting it with grocery-wiping--or worse, shilling for the guy selling little sticks to press elevator buttons with.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Sunscreen & Statistics (S.R.)

Summary: Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and washing it off after).  Request: Spencer lecturing Reader on the statistics of wearing sunscreen, but his mind going blank when reader needs him to help put it on. A/N: This is my (first) entry to my Summer Sunshine Challenge! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Spencer POV, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, heavy petting, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex, coworker relationship, so many statistics (showers, skin cancer, sunscreen, sex), schizophrenia mention, Reader wears a bikini Word Count: 5.6k

MASTERLIST

It was a beautiful day—the kind that artists had attempted to capture through many mediums. The summer sun was relentless, stretching its rays across every inch of the region. Even the shade hardly seemed spared, with bits of bright light slipping between green rustling leaves.

This seemingly idyllic set of circumstances offered the BAU a wonderful excuse to stay behind on the sunnier coast. Everyone was quick to buy new bathing suits and Rossi had already begrudgingly extended an invitation for everyone to stay at his favorite luxury hotel (on his dime, of course, or none of us would’ve made it).

The celebrations were already in full swing, and everyone was blissfully happy. It was, after all, the perfect day to hang out by the pool. So, they did. Each and every one…

Except for me. I stayed inside.

I wasn’t trying to ruin the fun. I had my reasons. Some were more reasonable than others.

Others were scary and slightly embarrassing. They wore a smile so bright it would rival the sun and managed to make me turn red even quicker than the star could. The kind of reason that turned me to nothing but a blubbering mess of a man.

I should’ve known better than to try to avoid her, though. Because that reason, that very important and tempting enchantress of a reason, always seemed to find me at the most inopportune time.

“Are you still hiding in here?”

I nearly jumped through my skin at the sound.

“No!”

I turned to find her staring back with an entertained, albeit disbelieving stare.

“Sort of. Maybe,” I felt compelled to continue.

When she still didn’t believe me—for obvious reasons—I finally conceded, “Yes.”

To my joy and eternal shame, she laughed like it had been an intentional joke.

“Well, I got banished back inside because I forgot sunscreen, so I’m trying to figure out where JJ left her bag,” she sighed.

Thankfully, that had been something I could help with. Despite everyone’s enthusiasm when they’d tossed the bags into the center of the suite lobby, I had managed to determine who owned which brightly colored pattern.

From my seat in the center, I reached over to pull JJ’s bag from the fray.

As soon as (y/n) spotted the motion, she was quick to exclaim, “My hero!”

Immediately, I felt the blood rush to my face.

I suppose there were worse places it could have gone.

“How did you forget sunscreen?” I asked.

“I hate the way it feels, so I almost never wear it unless forced,” she shrugged. Then, she turned to me, pointing the bottle like a weapon as she explained, “Plus, it always feels like they’re trying to trick me with all the numbers. I don’t know what SPF is. They could just be lying to me.”

“Well, the good news is that even a weak sunscreen is helpful,” I tried to reassure her. “Regular daily use of at least 15 SPF can reduce your risk of squamous cell carcinoma and melanoma by up to 50%.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. I can tell you more about this product specifically, if you want.”

When I held out my hand, she was quick to hand me the bottle. I was, in turn, very happy to have an excuse to look at something other than her before all the blood left my brain.

“Okay, so, this one is an interesting formula. It offers a decent coverage and—,” I started, but my voice died just as soon as I looked up.

Because there she was, pulling her top over her head to reveal the barely-there bikini beneath it.

I knew I only had a few seconds to shamelessly ogle her before she would find out, and I greedily accepted the sight of soft curves that all consisted of and led to her.

My eyes traversed her body the way I wished my hands could until I was left practically trembling.

The blood wasn’t in my face anymore. It wasn’t even anywhere near my brain. To the point I’d barely even noticed she’d already taken her pants off until her voice snapped me back to reality.

“And what?” she said.

“What?”

“… You stopped talking.”

“I did?”

She reached forward and grabbed the bottle from my hand. If she’d noticed the way I had been looking at her, she didn’t say anything about it. She just sort of… smiled.

“Are you alright, Doctor?” she asked.

“Yes,” I lied.

I might’ve been able to answer honestly if it hadn’t been for the way she dumped the contents of the bottle into her hand and began lathering it over her legs.

“A-Anyways,” I tried to continue. With a wavering voice and wandering eyes, I rambled, “to maximize protection you should really use about an ounce of sunscreen with an SPF of 30. Anything over 30 is, well, like you suggested, sort of a scam.”

All the while, there she was, smoothing over slick skin that smelled like summer.

“An ounce, huh?” she hummed as her hands traveled between pillowy thighs to coat skin the sun could rarely reach. “Feels like you could make it a drinking game with enough motivation.”

“Drinking alcohol actually dramatically increases your risk of sunburn, so you should definitely wear more sunscreen if you’re drinking,” I muttered absently while my eyes stayed firmly fixed between her thighs long after her hands had abandoned the area.

“Noted,” she said, the end of the word tinged with a little bit of amusement.

I looked up at her to try to understand what had excited her, or perhaps annoyed her.

Or at least, I tried to look at her face. My eyes made a few involuntarily stops along the way. Once they settled safely back on her smile, however, she was quick to get my blood pumping in a different way.

“So, will you help me?” she asked.

“With what?”

She scoffed, then laughed.

“… the sunscreen? Duh.”

Despite my best efforts to make any sense of the request, I was, once again, a hopeless, lovesick idiot.

“W-What?” I babbled, “You… You want me to put it on? You?”

“I can ask JJ if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No!” I blurted out with both hands raised in opposition or surrender.

Didn’t seem to matter which.

I tried to explain it away, but my attempts to bolster my good character seemed even less convincing than the sudden outburst.

“N-No, no it’s fine. I-It’s… why would that make me… uncomfortable? I’m fine. I can do it.”

“Wow. Convincing,” she teased.

And that is what it was. There was no anger in her tone; not even a hint of resentment. She laughed, and I did, too.

“Okay, I admit that wasn’t very convincing. But seriously, I can do it. Promise.”

She spoke through her teeth when she muttered, “Whatever you say.”

When she tossed me the bottle back, we were both surprised to find that I’d caught it.

My hands, still shaky, were quick to close the gap between our bodies. The sunscreen felt nearly frigid compared to our skin, but she didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, she rewarded the sensation with a dreamy sigh and a slight arching of her back.

That motion, however small, felt like fire to an already ruined man. I tried to stay focused on more innocent areas. I worked my hands over knotted muscles in her shoulder and tried to free her of those burdens, too. With each swipe of my thumbs, she would let out the most delicious rumble that made me want to do it again.

Each time that I pulled away to add more, I came back a few inches lower until my fingers nearly slipped beneath the top of her bikini bottoms.

At that moment, with her arched lower back pressed against my palms and my fingers brushing against the little fabric between us, she shivered. Silently, I watched as the goosebumps covered her skin like a sheet.

Reaching forward to grab hold of the couch in front of her, she arched her back once more. The movement seemed intentional, closing a couple inches of the distance between us until there was almost nothing.

With more speed than I’d intended, I stepped back and nearly fell.

“O-Okay, I-I think that’s it!” I said with a squeak.

To my dismay, she stayed exactly where she was for a long moment. In fact, she deepened the stretch and fell forward with a sigh before she whined, “Shame.”

I tried to calm my fast beating heart while simultaneously trying to run from the thoughts that continued to chase me the longer she stayed bent over. My hands were still buzzing from the contact, and I felt almost lightheaded from the strength of the unrelenting erection still struggling against compression shorts underneath my pants.

(I had been right that I would need them if she was going to be there.)

And there she was, finally standing and stretching her arms over her head. They dropped back down and I couldn’t stop myself from admiring the effect of physics on her chest.

“It felt nice to be touched like that,” she sighed.

I couldn’t respond to that without making a complete fool of myself, so I tried to distance myself from the moment, instead.

“You’re actually supposed to wait 30 minutes after application to go into the sun, but, y-you can probably just sit in the shade and wait.”

“Did you already apply yours?”

“I’m not taking off my clothes so I could do it myself,” I explained.

I should’ve known better than to doubt her ability to get whatever she wanted—which, at the moment seemed to be my catastrophic defeat.

“Well, that’s not fair,” she whined, “I want to return the favor!”

“I-I mean… I’ll probably have to reapply it to my face soon, but I doubt you want to—.”

“Awe! Fun!” she cried before I could finish the thought, “Gimme!”

“Oh… um, okay.”

I handed her the bottle and whatever I still had of my heart. With expert fingers, she spread the chilly contents over my cheeks. We were both smiling, the expressions growing wider and more genuine as she started to play with pliable skin.

I involuntarily joined in on her laughter. Her hands and eyes were so warm, I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle in her palms.

The moment ended far too quickly. I missed her immediately, but she made sure that my smile didn’t fade.

“There. You’re only sort of pasty now,” she sighed contentedly before adding, “Mostly red, actually.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” I grumbled back. The sarcastic tilt to the sound wasn’t lost on her.

I realized in that awkward, somehow lonely quiet that I loved her more than I’d thought.

I almost wanted to tell her. I’d even opened my mouth, ready to spill the contents of my soul and hope for the best.

I never got a chance, though. Because before I’d uttered a single syllable, she jumped with her own realization.

“Oh, I forgot the most important part!”

“What?”

She turned away from me and dove her attention into the pile of bags without further explanation. I watched as she dug through clothing and whatever else she’d stuffed into her tote until she stood triumphantly with a closed fist.

“What?” I asked again.

She held up a single finger in reply.

I followed her instruction, waiting patiently as I watched her uncap a small tube of chapstick and use it to thoroughly coat her lips. Once again, I was left to shamelessly stare at a beautiful woman as she dutifully cared for herself in a way I’d wished I could.

Swallowing the lump in my throat that carried heartfelt confessions, I spoke again.

“What am I waiting for, exactly?” I teased.

Her eyes narrowed with what seemed to be a playful warning.

“Sunscreen application,” she explained flatly, “Duh.”

I paused. My head cocked to the side and my face twisted as I struggled to find any explanation for why she’d needed me for this part.

“Wha—?”

Then, just when I’d started to speak, it hit me all at once.

And by that, I mean she kissed me.

With both hands cupping already-reddened cheeks, she pulled me forward until I could taste flavored lip balm and her.

Her lips opened, sliding against mine with an undeniable affection that made my whole body tense. I tried to hold her, but it all happened so quickly that by the time I raised my hands to her arms, she was almost gone.

“There!” she said happily, “Now we’re ready.”

For what? I wanted to ask.

But before I could make myself speak, she was already gone.

I spent the next several hours outside.

The rest of the team seemed both surprised and not surprised about my decision to join them. After all, everyone knew I didn’t particularly enjoy pools or any body of water, and, despite my Vegas origins, the sun and I didn’t quite get along.

But they also knew I liked her.

It had never been more obvious than it was that day, when I emerged from the safety of darkness with freshly kissed lips and an expression filled with utter confusion.

(Y/n) was quick to greet me in her usual manner. She said nothing about the kiss.

Part of me had even started to wonder if I’d hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe the doctors had all been wrong, and I was already waist-deep in psychosis that manifested purely through happy memories of her.

It would be an odd presentation, sure, but at the time it somehow felt more likely than her returning my affections. But as soon as I started to convince myself, she would flash me a glance that set my already overheated body on fire. Even as she peered up at me from the edge, I could still see her smile under the water.

She wore that same look in her eye she always did when we were alone. It was a slightly unnerving but mostly flattering feeling. It felt like being wanted by a beautiful woman.

I’m definitely losing it.

That was the only reasonable conclusion to reach. Because when she emerged from the pool, I could’ve sworn she paused before to make sure I was watching.

Of course, I was watching. I made sure that my flawless memory captured damn near every droplet as it caressed her curves. I stared, practically worshipped the sight of her lips parted with a relieved exhale that I could see leave her chest.

The blood was gone again. I was doomed.

“You’re still hiding, huh?”

I was too afraid to answer until she took the seat closest to me.

“No, not hiding, just… staying safe,” I explained through my typical awkward smile.

I pointed up to the umbrella above me, but she didn’t look. Her eyes stayed glued to me.

“It’s probably time for me to reapply, huh?” she laughed.

I liked the way it sounded, so, I laughed, too.

“Yeah, to be honest, you really should’ve done it a couple hours ago, but I didn’t want you to think I was… a wet blanket or a pervert.”

She snorted at the suggestion. Her eyes squinted, playful as always and carrying some meaning that evaded me.

“It’s very interesting that those were the two options that came to your mind,” she said.

I panicked.

“I don’t know, it’s weird, isn’t it? Me insisting you should let me touch you?” I rushed, “I’m not crazy, right? It’s… weird! It’s…!”

She sighed.

At first, I mistook the sound for annoyance. But when I looked into her eyes, I knew that wasn’t right.

Because she looked… like she had been caught in a dream. A melancholy fantasy of something she felt was just beyond her reach.

She was looking at me, I realized, exactly the same way I looked at her.

 “You’re not crazy, Spencer,” she said with a smile, “Just a little oblivious.”

My lips twitched as I fought a smirk that came through, anyway.

“I can accept that.”

She seemed pleased, as if I’d given the right answer.

“Well, the good news is I’m done with the sun for the day,” she announced.

Her eyes finally left me as she once again stretched her arms over her head and left me to ogle her like an idiot. Then, when I was thoroughly distracted, she glanced around like she was checking to see if anyone could hear her.

“They don’t seem to be calming down, so…” she said, much quieter now, “any statistics on what I should do with sunscreen when I’m finished with it?”

“No statistics, per se, but you definitely should wash it off. It can be pretty irritating for skin,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Not to mention the salts and chemicals from the pool.”

“I see,” she laughed.

Then, when she realized that I was, in fact, a hopeless, perverted fool with no blood in his brain, she made her intentions much clearer.

“Will you help me with that?”

Not clear enough for me, though.

“What?” I asked.

“With the sunscreen,” she answered simply.

“Uh—.”

Even that eloquent thought couldn’t make it through a parched, tightening throat. With each passing second and every syllable uttered, my voice got higher and even more unstable.

“I’m sorry, are you—what—w-what are you asking me?”

That’s when she took my hand, bursting with laughter as she dragged me from me seat with the most terrifying, alluring, and magical answer.

“Come on, pretty boy.”

I followed her without question but many concerns—the largest of which was the fear that she was actually leading me to my demise by humiliation.

Those worries grew tenfold when she yanked me over the threshold into her private room.

I stumbled forward and practically fell into her arms. But she was waiting for me, seemingly anticipating the clumsiness. Her hands were still soft, still soothing on boiling skin as she guided my lips to hers for the second time that day.

That time, I was prepared.

My hands covered her sun-kissed cheeks and pulled her even closer than she’d done to me before.

She tasted like salt and sugar from summer fresh fruit. I gave her every breath that I had, panting hopelessly against her lips each time that we broke apart.

Her hands were gentle when they found mine. I was reluctant to leave her until I realized that she was simply repositioning them to less innocent areas.

Still, I hesitated to go any further. I let my hands rest softly against her hips while I struggled to express my relief.

“Thank god,” I laughed, “I was sort of worried you were going to beat me up for staring at you all day.”

Her eyes locked onto mine with a hunger that seemed almost insatiable.

“No, I like it when you look at me like that,” she stated so simply it hurt. “In fact, I think I want to thank you.”

Before I could ask her how she intended to that, she made her intentions very clear by grabbing my dick through the fabric of my pants.

“So, tell me… any statistics on why we shouldn’t have sex in the shower?” she asked.

I don’t know how she’d expected me to think clearly. It actually seemed like she was purposefully trying to make it harder for me to form any words at all.

“It’s actually—,” I started just to stop when she started stroking the full length of me with devilish fingers.

“It’s actually really dangerous to try to have sex in the shower,” I tried again.

That time, she began applying a cascading pressure through playful fingertips. I spoke faster, trying to finish any thought before I truly lost my mind.

“There is a—fuck—a 44% chance of injury,” I forced out.

Her hand stopped. She cocked her head to the side with a brilliant smile and asked, “Is that right?”

I was almost relieved. Almost.

“Yeah, and…”

Then she started taking off my pants.

“A-and it can be quite uncomfortable for a woman without additional lubrication,” I said while shaking my head.

Even my subconscious knew I was speaking against my own self-interest, that I could’ve just accepted her question as rhetorical. I could’ve just shut up and go along with whatever she wanted because I would always be happy so long as she was happy.

She dropped down as she pulled my pants to the ground and revealed a second set of bottoms. I couldn’t be sure of it, but she seemed vindicated when she realized how hard my body was struggling against the compression shorts.

“The movies make it look so fun, don’t they?” she hummed as she stood back up. “I guess it is pretty dangerous. And inconvenient.”

“Yeah, but also, I sort of wish I hadn’t said any of that,” I responded immediately, “Let’s do it anyway.”

Thankfully, she found my eagerness charming and not pathetic (or perhaps those were the same to her). Her fingers sneaked past the band of the compression shorts, but she didn’t make the move to remove them yet.

Instead, she used her free hand to lead mine straight to the knot holding her bikini bottoms together.

My fingers twitched. She leaned closer, her cheek pressed against mine and her breath hot on my ear as she said the most beautiful words.

“We can shower after, then.”

“Thank you god,” I cried.

Practiced fingers untangled the knots within seconds, and I fought the urge to stare at her newly exposed skin by kissing her instead.

Her skin, still wet, was chilled enough from the cooler air that she barely reacted when I backed her against the ceramic countertop in the bathroom.

She leaned back, groaning with relief when I finally undid the knots of her top.

Again, I shamelessly admired the wonderful world of physics as it was displayed before me. With each breath, her chest lifted and came closer to my own.

Seemingly sharing the same thoughts, she reached forward and practically tugged my shirt off of me.

As soon as I could, I held her naked body as close to me as I could. My hands covered her lower back and drifted further down her hips, seeking every inch of cold skin that remained.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I whispered. I couldn’t see most of her, but the memory from mere seconds ago was as vivid as it would ever be. “Words don’t exist that would ever do it justice.”

She pulled back, still toying with the tops of my shorts with that insatiable look in her eyes.

“I’d say take a picture, but I think your memory might rival a camera,” she giggled.

“I’ll never forget this,” I promised her, “I’ll never forget you.”

But there were so many other ways I’d yet to see her. So, after carefully loving each inch of her hips, I turned my attention to the burning heat between her thighs. 

At the same time my finger slid through slick folds, my lips found hers once more.

“I wanna make you feel good,” I slurred.

Her lips parted in a broken gasp as I tried to do just that. I inched eager fingers between tight muscles and didn’t even bother fighting the urge to moan into her mouth.

She swallowed that desire and returned her own with a growing enthusiasm. My fingers grew faster, sloppier in their gentle beckoning for her to fall apart.

“That’s it. Good girl,” I reassured her when her breathy moans became pitchy. “Oh, you deserve to feel so good, sweetheart.”

That spark in her eyes had turned into a wildfire further stoked by my praise. I leaned into it; I became more confident in my loving her. Her walls were tense and insistent, seeking something more than what my hand could give them.

I withdrew them despite her immediate protests. She recanted any complaint as soon as I moved drenched fingers to the small pearl at her center.

Her moans became shameless, and I accepted them as an imminent victory. She rocked her hips against my hand, riding it to find her elusive end.

All the while, her eyes were locked onto mine. She refused to look away, forced us both to acknowledge that I was the one who brought her here. To the edge of the abyss, to the ultimate euphoria.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” I said through a smirk, “Come for me.”

She followed the direction with the utmost enthusiasm. She fell forward, favoring me to the cold countertop. I caught her but continued my relentless efforts to please her.

I kept going, kept cherishing her until she whimpered from my touch. Then I held her. I pet her damp hair and laid a gentle kiss atop the crown of her head.

“Good girl,” I assured her.

But I wasn’t finished yet.

“Now turn around.”

She perked up the second she’d heard the order. Although she’d barely caught her breath, she turned on shaky legs without question.

My hands found her hips just like they had before. Except this time, there were no bikini bottoms. There was only pillowy flesh and the strong muscles of her backside pressed firmly against my dick.

Barely moving away from her, I finally freed myself from the confines of compression shorts. I groaned with relief and noticed how the sound made her back arch further.

When I lined myself up at her entrance, she rewarded the action with a dreamy sigh.

It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to see the look on her face, to hear the desperation in her voice before I gave her what I’d fantasized of from the moment I met her.

My hand knotted in her hair. I pulled her back from her comfortable position braced against the countertop. I held her up so that I could whisper in her ear the same as she’d done to me earlier.

“This is what you wanted, right?” I asked, as if her whimpers hadn’t been answer enough.

“Yes,” she moaned, “please.”

The sound of debauchery on her tongue sent shockwaves through me. My cock twitched involuntarily, bumping against satin skin now dripping with desire.

I barely resisted the urge to slam into her with full force. Instead, I stayed there, with just the tip of me inside of her as I groaned.

“Oh, I’d give you the whole world if you asked me like that.”

“This’ll do for now,” she giggled.

Her hips began to sway as she rocked on her toes. She chased even just a half inch more of me and rewarded me with beautiful sounds when I finally started to sink into her.

“That’s it…” I sighed.

Her confidence was quickly shaken, though, as my pursuit continued. Not even half of my dick was inside her when I felt her start to tremble.

“You can take it,” I assured her.

She responded by tightening her muscles even further, resisting the gentle stretch of her body as it accommodated my own.

“That’s my girl,” I groaned. The blinding heat of her demanded my full attention to the point that I was barely coherent as I slurred, “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

But all it took was one word to unravel my best efforts.

“Spencer,” she whimpered.

Any hesitance I had vanished without a trace. I thrust my hips forward to the hilt with so much force that she scrambled to stay on her feet. Manicured nails struggled to find a grip the ceramic before my next motion.

I took my time pulling back, and I watched her struggle with the fullness that was our bodies come together. I reveled in the sight of her heaving chest and clouded eyes.

That time, I didn’t fight the urge to slam into her. I even pulled her back as I did it, bringing our bodies together over and over again with a blissful type of violence.

With each thrust, I watched her reaction in the mirror. I made sure that my mind captured each second of her pleasure. Each time her jaw dropped open with whines and praise in the shape of my name.

“Please, Spencer,” she keened with a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter.

I hadn’t been sure what she was asking for, so I continued to love her the same as I always had.

But she only became more frustrated, sobbing with pleasure the next time my hips crashed into hers.

“Harder,” she cried out.

And I tried. I tried to follow her instruction, to grant her the release that could only be found in the fullest expression of years of repressed passion.

The problem wasn’t my unwillingness to give my everything to her. Rather, it was the siren’s call of resistant, relentlessly desperate muscles.

“You’re so fucking tight,” I ground through clenched jaw. 

Then, with a small and wavering voice, she insisted, “I can take it.”

Every atom of my being burned with a suffocating desire. It felt nearly feral; fully free to show her just how badly my body ached to be with her.

She began slamming back against me with a similar fervor and I almost made myself stop.

“Fuck, I’m so close, but I don’t want it to end,” I begged her.

But that beautiful, evasive, brilliant star of a woman just giggled. I could practically feel myself leaving bruises in the shape of my fingertips and she couldn’t have been happier.

Through the mirror, she looked at me and reminded me of the full, unrelenting power of the sun.

“Don’t worry,” she purred, “we can do it again later.”

That was all it took. With just a look, she practically brought me to my knees.

“Fuck!” I choked as I slammed into her with my full force. We both nearly collapsed against the counter, but I managed to pull her hips down harder against me just as I found my release.

The blissful heat of her grew to new heights as I filled her. Each wave of pleasure caused her to shiver with sheets of goosebumps.

I watched through half-lidded, lust-clouded vision as she accepted every inch and every drop of my desire with a euphoric smile.

“Sorry,” I said while trying to catch my breath. Even when I managed to capture some breath, it escaped me with a laugh as I explained, “I… I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“Don’t apologize,” she slurred.

I might’ve thought she was just being merciful if she hadn’t immediately followed, “That was fun.”

It was so obviously sincere, but I was so ridiculously stupid that I had to be sure, anyway.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she laughed.

The sound was even more beautiful when I could feel the vibrations from within. I groaned from the thought of how it might feel for her lips to be wrapped around my cock. It twitched inside her, and she responded with a small whimper.

My hips bucked one more time, forcing me to the hilt before I withdrew in one quick motion.

I stood there for a moment, holding her hips steady as I watched the evidence of what we’d just done drip down her thighs.

My stomach was filled with butterflies doing flips and there was no accounting for the blood that still hadn’t made its way back to my brain.

(Y/n) was patient as ever with a pitiful man.

“Come on, pretty boy,” she chuckled as she took my hand, “help me get clean.”

Despite my best efforts, there were significantly less attempts to get clean in the shower than I’d expected. It was only thanks to her self-preservation that we didn’t end up having sex in the shower, although we came pretty close.

I could never tire of kissing her, but I realized I could love her just as much with lather as I could with my lips. My worship shifted as I dutifully cared for her the way I’d always wished I could.

When it was over, I didn’t give up. I followed her into her bed and she made no attempt to stop me.

In fact, she moved closer to me until my arm could reach around her waist and her head rested on my chest.

“Any other statistics you want to share?” she mumbled, now sleepy from the sun and… other activities.

“Always,” I answered. “Like, did you know, I have now joined the 54% of people who have slept with a coworker?”

“Fascinating. Was it worth it?” she chuckled, having already known my answer.

“Yes,” I told her, anyway. But the way I always did when it came to sharing statistics, I couldn’t stop myself. “Although, there is a smaller subset of that group that’s even more interesting.”

She gasped, quickly pressing her fingers to my lips to stop me from ruining her moment.

“Let me guess—at least half of them fucked in the office,” she said.

And in that quiet, private moment, the only thing more beautiful than her hopeful smile was the fact she’d gotten it right.

“You are, without a doubt, the most attractive woman I’ve ever met in my life,” I confessed.

She gave her wholehearted admission that she felt the same in the best way she could.

With a cheeky smile and the utmost sincerity, she asked, “What are the odds of that?”

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for another mutual pining summer-themed fic? Check out my 11.2k oneshot Lost Time, where Reader and Spencer spend their mandatory leave taking the Spring Break Spencer never got to have. 

Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug , @poo-tay-toot , @bookobsessedfreak

Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme , @pepperthealien

Thanks for reading!

[an-apocalypse-of-magpies]

I genuinely think it is a rite of passage for a Pokemon fan to champion a Pokemon that is unpopular, uncool, or 'weak'.

For some, it comes quickly. A child sees Gulpin and thinks it's the funniest thing ever. For some, it's trying something new. The competitive battler who just starts messing around, picks up a Pachirisu, and leads it to victory against impossible stakes. For some, it's an accident. The Nuzlocker who got way too attached to an early game friend who refused to die, and grieved for their friend and comrade when their time came. For some, it's defiance. The person who kinda likes Raichu and will defend it from the slings and arrows of all others. For some, it's just comfortably growing up and realising you don't have to justify liking something, just that it makes you happy.

It's easy to be drawn to the crowd favourites. And why not? They can be powerful fighters, cute merch, fanart-bait, they have a je ne sais quoi that draws the eye. And that's still fine! I'm not going to tell anyone they're a bad person for liking Charizard, or Mewtwo, or Gengar, or Pikachu. They're popular for a reason. But there is a kind of zen, a state of enlightenment of sorts, in finding a funky little guy who isn't very good and isn't very popular but makes you smile, and you go out of your way to find them and raise them and maybe even never evolve them, despite them being a damp squib in actual battles.

One of my favourite Pokemon ever is Swinub. Swinub is not a strong Pokemon. In fact, statistically, it's one of the weakest. Swinub has 5 weaknesses, including all 3 starter types. It doesn't learn many coverage moves, and it's abilities are not very exciting either. But I love this little piglet. It's round and soft! It digs up hot springs with its nose! You never see its eyes! I just think it's neat.

It's an important thing, I think, to find a Pokemon you like just for you. Not because it makes you better than 'the normies', but because it makes you appreciate the Pokemon you do meet, not for their battling prowess, but for how much you just want to be around them. When I see @good-pokemon-center-reviews frankly doing the lord's work in sharing people who are just so happy to have their little guys, I see starry-eyed children relishing in the wonder the Pokemon world is meant to bring. Genuine, earnest joy at a plushy Croagunk will always be more real to me that any Smogon tier chart. That guy gets it. The guy being a dick on Pokemon showdown with a team of 5 Zacians and a Mega Rayquaza for spice does not.

[kaibutsushidousha]

Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024

Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.

My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?

Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.

Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.

Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.

Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.

Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.

Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.

Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.

Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.

No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.

[drchucktingle]

POUNDED BY DR. GLOBUS

wanted to post today about recent health journey of chuck. ALL STARTED at texas show when i began to feel tightness in throat. i have learned this is called GLOBUS which is a tingler character name if ive ever heard one. got through appearance and had blast but felt terrible

plane journey home was even worse. first thought i strained my voice, then tested for covid (negative) and then figured it was just some kind of virus. had running nose and hoarse and extreme pain behind face and MOST of all this golf ball throat

figured i would get better as viruses tend to go but I DID NOT. after a few weeks went to way of urgent care and they took one look and said you have EXTREME FORM OF ACID REFLUX called laryngopharyngeal reflux (also great tingler character name)

basically this is when your stomach acid comes all the way back up into your throat and erodes it. they immediately put me on medications name of pepcid plus tums plus gaviscon and on and on. was inhaling a dang pharmacy every morning

problem is, NO CHANGE. in fact it started getting worse. in addition to previous symptoms i now couldnt keep any food down. upset stomach all the time. could barely sleep. plus it is scary to have a sickness that gets WORSE over time like this

more doctor talks. i up doses of medication to combat sickness but does not seem to work. one night wake up and think 'dang i need to go to er my stomach is going to just melt or something' (keep in mind because i cant keep food down i am always hungry too).

i go to hospital and they say 'WHOA we need to intervene right now we are doing some tests and putting you on SERIOUS LIFE CHANGING MEDICINE. but here is catch to do the tests we need you to stop all your medication for 48 hours and it will be HECK but you gotta do it bud'

so i stop all medication in preparation for new SICK LIFE and suddenly… i start feeling better. not just a little but after weeks of this awful way i wake up in ONE DAY and feel fully cured. now heres twist: at the same time this was happening I started taking allergy medicine

you may already know where i am going with so i will just hit you with it. my INITIAL SICKNESS was just extreme seasonal allergies that required nothing more than claritin and flonase. however i was misdiagnosed with ACID REFLUX and medication was making my stomach a wasteland

the second i stopped taking acid reflux meds and started on allergy trot i was better almost instantly. today i feel HECKIN GREAT. (SIDE NOTE: after 4 years of chronic pain i am so thankful to not have some OTHER long term health trot to deal with. DANG)

so what is lesson here? first of all please do not think this is in ANY WAY anti-doctor rant or anti-medicine. my doctors were trying their best and made a mistake, they are just people. ALSO while acid reflux medicine made me sick, allergy meds made me better. i am SO fortunate

but what is REALLY fortunate is that chuck is covered under SWEET BARBARAS HEALTH CARE (she gets very good coverage under the frozen lake). most artist buckaroos, even WILDLY successful ones, do not have health care which is huge issue that should be talked on more.

point is EVERYONE should have healthcare. this whole adventure was bad, but it also only cost me 50 dollars. hundreds of thousands of other buckaroos would have to deal with this PLUS it would completely upend their life to cover medical expenses because of a SIMPLE MISTAKE

so that is my story, usually there is more of a lesson to these rants but this one is really just ‘dang what a trip.’ so grateful for my health and my way and the fact i can get simple allergy medicine over the counter. most of all THANKFUL FOR MY BODY it is such a treat to exist

thank you for reading and remember to advocate for yourself and your feelings both BODY and MIND at the doctor. listen to your trot and do not forget that LOVING YOURSELF AND THE SYSTEMS OF YOUR BODY proves love just as much as loving others. trot on buckaroos

[hottiesforhockey]

underneath the tree ⎜j.hughes + l.hughes

🎄pairings: jack hughes x afab!reader ⎜luke hughes x afab!reader 🎄genre: christmas special ⎜ romance ⎜ smut 🎄warnings: thigh riding ⎜ heavy petting ⎜ oral (f recieving) ⎜threesome...sorta...kinda? ⎜ there's kind of a hint of something between luke and reader 👀 ⎜luke is sick of the lovesick couple ⎜ luke showing jack how its done ⎜ fingering ⎜ 🎄synopsis: when luke comes home to catch you and his brother up to no good under the christmas tree - he decides to give jack's christmas present to you early. 🎄word count: 7k 🎄authors note:  this is the third post in the christmas special series! and definitely ended up a little longer then anticipated. feel free to check out the others already posted or the other upcoming fics : christmas specials

(unedited)

“You can’t just throw the lights on top of the tree and hope for the best.” You sigh as you snatch the christmas lights from your boyfriend’s hands - demonstrating how to loop them around every branch to get the best coverage. 

“I never thought I’d be the one decorating to be fair - it’s usually Luke’s job.” Jack huffs in return. You roll your eyes as you glance up at the clock in the living room - Luke had promised to be home by eight thirty to help decorate the house for the christmas season, it was almost nine o’clock and he still hadn’t shown up. 

“Have we called him? What if he was in an accident?” You say, Jack waving you off as he continues looping the lights around the tree just like you showed him. 

“He’s fine, he said he was grabbing a few gifts on the way home and he always gets stuck when he goes shopping.” 

“Still, it’s not like him to be this late,” you mutter, biting your lip as you glance at your phone. No messages. No missed calls. A strange unease twists in your stomach, but you shake it off. Luke had a habit of losing track of time when he got into the holiday spirit.

“I’m sure he’ll walk through the door any minute now, arms full of bags and that goofy grin on his face,” Jack says, attempting to reassure you. But even as he speaks, you notice the slight furrow in his brow.

The two of you continue working in silence for a while, the soft hum of Christmas carols on the radio filling the room. The tree starts to come together beautifully—twinkling lights cascading perfectly over the branches, thanks to your precise instruction.

By the time the ornaments are unpacked and ready to go, it’s well past nine-thirty. The unease has grown into a dull throb in your chest. You can’t help but glance out the window every few minutes, hoping to see Luke’s car pull into the driveway.

“Maybe I should try calling him again,” you say, picking up your phone and scrolling to his name in your contacts. Jack pauses, an ornament in hand, and nods.

“Can’t hurt,” he says quietly, his usual teasing tone subdued.

You press the call button and hold the phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, three times before going to voicemail. Frowning, you hang up and try again, only to get the same result.

“He’s not answering,” you say, your voice tighter than you intended.

Jack sets down the ornament and walks over, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. He probably just lost track of time like I said. Let’s give it another half-hour, and if he’s still not back, we’ll go looking for him.”

You nod reluctantly, though the unease refuses to budge. Together, you and Jack hang the first few ornaments on the tree, the joy of decorating dampened by Luke’s absence.

“Maybe we can do something a little more… interesting while we wait.” Jack hints, raising his eyebrows in anticipation as you let out a scoff of laughter surprised but his suggestion. 

“Oh, so this is why you agreed to help decorate,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. Jack grins, leaning casually against the edge of the couch.

“Caught me,” he says with a shrug. “But come on, it’s better than sitting here staring at the clock, isn’t it? We’re just killing time until Luke gets back. Why not make it a little more fun?” You hesitate, glancing at your phone on the table. Luke’s absence still gnaws at the back of your mind, but Jack’s mischievous expression is infectious. Maybe he’s right—what’s the harm in a little distraction?

“All right,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. “What did you have in mind?” Jack’s grin widens. 

“I knew you couldn’t resist. Let’s see... how about we start with a little wager? Whoever hangs the most ornaments in five minutes wins. Loser has to fulfil the other person’s wish.” You laugh despite yourself, already picturing Jack fumbling with ornaments in his rush. 

“You’re on,” you say, grabbing a handful of decorations and heading to the tree. Jack grabs his own pile and sets a timer on his phone. 

“Ready... set... go!” 

The two of you dive into the game, the tension from earlier fading into the background as you race to hang ornaments. Jack’s competitive streak kicks in immediately—he’s practically tossing ornaments onto the branches in his rush, while you focus on keeping yours evenly spaced and stylish.

“Careful,” you warn as Jack tries to hang a bauble too high and nearly knocks the star off the top of the tree. “If you break one, you’re automatically disqualified.”

Jack mutters something under his breath but adjusts his approach, all while shooting you a playful glare. The timer buzzes just as you’re reaching for your last ornament.

“Time’s up!” Jack announces triumphantly, stepping back to admire his handiwork—or rather, lack of it. Half his ornaments are clustered on one side of the tree, dangling precariously.

“Not bad,” you say, fighting back laughter. “If the theme was ‘Christmas chaos.’”

“Hey, it’s about quantity, not quality,” he retorts, counting his ornaments. “Twenty four. Beat that.” You let out a long sigh as you count your ornaments knowing you’re no where close to Jack’s debatable success. 

“Nineteen.” You hiss, your lips forming into a pout - Jack lets out a whoop of joy, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss to your temple as he dances past you. “Okay, Cheater, what’s your wish?” You can’t fight the smile growing on your face as Jack slides up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you against him. 

“I want you to kiss me.” He whispers softly, “Kiss me like you’ve never kissed anyone before.” He continues, his smile growing as he presses a kiss to your neck when you shiver in his arms. 

“You want to make out with me? That’s your wish?” You say tilting your head to give him better access to your sensitive skin, “You could ask me to do all your chores for the week, and instead you ask for a kiss?” 

Jack chuckles softly, his breath warm against your neck. "Chores aren’t nearly as fun, and besides," he murmurs, his lips grazing your skin, "this feels like a much better way to spend the evening." Your heart stutters as his hands slide over your waist, pulling you closer. The twinkling lights from the tree cast a warm glow over the room, but all you can focus on is the way Jack looks at you—like you’re the only thing that matters.

“You’re impossible,” you murmur, tilting your head as his lips press to the hollow of your throat. Your breath hitches at the soft, deliberate pressure. His fingers trace small circles against your lower back, his touch grounding but electric all at once.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he whispers against your skin, his voice low and intimate. “Not stopping me.”

You try to muster some kind of retort, but the words melt away as Jack leans back slightly, catching your gaze. His eyes flicker to your lips, and in that moment, the rest of the world ceases to exist. Slowly, achingly slowly, he leans in, brushing his lips against yours in the lightest, teasing touch.

It’s not enough—not nearly enough.

You close the distance, capturing his mouth in a kiss that’s anything but shy. Jack responds immediately, his hands tightening on your waist as he deepens the kiss, coaxing you into a rhythm that’s both tender and demanding. His lips are warm and soft, his movements deliberate as if savouring every second.

One of his hands slides up your back, threading into your hair, while the other keeps you anchored firmly against him. The heat of his body against yours is intoxicating, and the taste of him—the faint hint of cinnamon from the mulled cider earlier—sends your senses reeling.

Jack shifts, pressing you gently against the edge of the couch as his kisses trail from your mouth to the curve of your jaw, then down the line of your neck. He lingers there, his lips and tongue exploring the sensitive skin, drawing soft gasps from you with every touch.

“Jack,” you manage to breathe, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if to steady yourself. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his own dark and filled with something that makes your stomach flip.

“What?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Too much?”

You shake your head, your cheeks flushed and your pulse racing. “Not even close,” you whisper, pulling him back into another kiss. This time it’s hungrier, more insistent, the kind of kiss that leaves no room for doubt about how badly you want him. His hands explore your sides, your back, leaving a trail of heat everywhere he touches. Time feels suspended as the two of you lose yourselves in each other, the earlier tension replaced by an overwhelming, magnetic pull.

When you finally part, your breathing is uneven, and your heart pounds in your chest. Jack presses his forehead to yours, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your cheek. “Satisfied?” You whisper into the space between you, Jacks head shaking as he pulls you with him as he falls back onto the couch. 

“Not even close.” He groans, mimicking your words from earlier - his hands gripping your waist as you straddle his thighs. Jack’s lips find your again, his fingers digging into your sides as your hips slowly roll forwards, your arms looping around his neck.

Just as your lips part, Jack’s hands tightening on your waist, the sound of the front door creaking open shatters the moment. You both freeze, heads snapping toward the noise. Luke’s voice echoes through the hallway, laced with a familiar blend of frustration and something that almost sounds... hopeful.

“Why’s it so dark in here? Did you two forget how light switches work, or—oh.”

Luke stops in his tracks as he steps into the living room, his arms full of shopping bags. His eyes lock onto you, perched on Jack’s lap, your faces flushed and breaths uneven. The warm glow of the Christmas lights does little to mask the intimacy of the moment.

For a heartbeat, no one moves. Luke’s gaze flicks between you and Jack, the tension in his posture unmistakable. The bags in his hands crinkle as he tightens his grip, his jaw clenching.

“Luke!” you exclaim, scrambling off Jack’s lap, your cheeks burning. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

“Clearly,” Luke says, his tone sharp, though there’s a slight waver in his voice. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Jack sighs, standing and rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re not interrupting, Luke. Relax.”

Luke’s eyes narrow, his gaze settling on you for a beat longer than comfortable. “Sure doesn’t look that way.”

“Come on, don’t start,” Jack says, his voice firm but not unkind. He steps closer to his younger brother, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re late, and we’ve been trying to finish the tree without you.”

“I can see that,” Luke mutters, shrugging off Jack’s hand. His eyes flick to you again, softer this time, a mixture of longing and hurt flashing across his face before he looks away.

You shift uncomfortably, the weight of the situation settling in. Luke had always been sweet to you—offering to help with chores, finding excuses to spend time around you, and sometimes even going out of his way to get your favourite snacks. At first, you thought it was just him being polite, but over time, it became hard to ignore the lingering looks and the way his face would light up when you smiled at him.

Jack, of course, seemed blissfully unaware of his younger brother’s crush, even teasing him about being “the baby” of the family. 

— or so you thought. 

Now, though, standing in the awkward silence, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Luke’s crush had become more complicated.

“Luke,” you start gently, taking a step toward him. “We were just messing around, trying to make decorating a little more fun. We didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to what?” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve ever heard it. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the usual warmth in them is replaced with something raw. “Didn’t mean for me to walk in on you two... like that?”

“Hey,” Jack interjects, stepping between you and Luke, his tone defensive. “Watch it. Don’t take your anger out on her.”

Luke’s mouth snaps shut, but his glare shifts to Jack. “Of course, you’d defend her,” he mutters bitterly, his voice barely audible.

“Because she’s my girlfriend,” Jack says firmly, his hand resting protectively on your back. “And you’re my brother. What’s going on with you, Luke? You’ve been weird for weeks.” Luke lets out a long sigh, dropping his shopping bags to the floor before crossing his arms tightly over his chest. 

“Jack, it’s fine.” You say softly, reaching out for your boyfriends hand, “He didn’t mean any—” 

“Yes he did.” Jack interrupts, “He’s been weird since I asked him to help me with your christmas present.” Jack says scowling at his younger brother. The two Hughes lock in a tense conversation with their eyes - your gaze flicking between the two in confusion. 

“What? What are you talking about?” You question, your gaze settling on your boyfriend. 

“She didn’t even know about it?” Luke sneers at his brother - his eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise as he removes himself from the staring contest with Jack - his gaze sliding over your confused face. 

Jack shifts uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair, his usual confidence faltering. “It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze. “It was just an idea I had for your gift. But Luke... didn’t exactly take it well.”

“Jack,” you say slowly, stepping closer. “What idea? What’s going on?”

Luke crosses his arms tightly over his chest, glaring at his older brother. “Go ahead,” he says, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Tell her. Let her hear this brilliant plan of yours.”

Jack exhales heavily, clearly frustrated. “I thought it would be... meaningful. Special. Something different from the usual gifts,” he begins hesitantly, his eyes flicking toward you before quickly looking away again. “I asked Luke to... spend a night with you. If you wanted to.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, all you can hear is the faint hum of the Christmas lights. You blink, processing what he’s just said. “Spend a night with me?” you repeat, your voice soft but steady.

Jack nods, his cheeks flushing as he finally meets your gaze. “I know it sounds... unconventional. But I wanted to give you something that showed how much I trust you, how much I trust us. You’ve always been close with Luke, and I thought... maybe it could be something we all share. If you’re okay with it.”

Your stomach flutters—not with discomfort, but with intrigue. You glance at Luke, who’s staring at Jack like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, and then back at Jack, whose expression is a mix of vulnerability and nervousness.

“Jack,” you say carefully, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Are you serious?” He nods, his voice firm despite the tension in the room. 

“Only if it’s something you’d want. I’d never push you into anything, and if you’re not into the idea, that’s totally fine. But I thought... maybe.”

Luke lets out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his hair. “This is insane,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You can’t be serious.”

“I think he is,” you murmur, your gaze still on Jack. His sincerity is unmistakable, and the thought of his trust—and Luke’s involvement—sends a curious warmth coursing through you.

You take a slow step toward Luke, your pulse quickening as his eyes snap to yours. “What about you?” you ask softly. “How do you feel about it?”

Luke’s mouth opens, then closes again as he searches for words. “I... don’t know,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “This isn’t exactly something I ever thought about. And honestly, I’m not sure I believe Jack’s really okay with it.”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t,” Jack interjects firmly, his gaze flicking to his brother. “Look, I know this is weird, but I trust both of you. I love her, and you’re my brother. I thought... maybe this could be something meaningful for all of us.”

Your heart races as you glance between the two brothers, their contrasting expressions—Jack’s cautious hope, Luke’s guarded confusion—only adding to the charged atmosphere. You step closer to Jack, resting a hand on his arm.

“You’re sure about this?” you ask softly, searching his eyes.

He nods, his hand covering yours. “Only if you are. This is about what you want.”

You turn back to Luke, who’s watching you with a mixture of uncertainty and something deeper—something almost longing. “And you?” you ask again, your voice steady despite the nervous energy bubbling inside you. “Would you be okay with it?”

Luke hesitates, his gaze dropping to the floor before slowly returning to yours. “I don’t want to make things weird between us,” he admits. “But if this is really what you both want...” His voice trails off, leaving the unspoken possibilities hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, your decision crystallising as you glance between them. 

“I think...” you begin, a small smile playing at your lips. “I’d like to try.”

Jack exhales, relief washing over his features, while Luke’s expression shifts to one of stunned disbelief.

“Seriously?” Luke asks, his voice cracking slightly.

You nod, stepping closer to him. “Only if you’re okay with it,” you assure him. “But yeah. I think I’d like to see where this goes.”

Luke glances at Jack, as if seeking confirmation, and Jack nods firmly. “She’s serious,” Jack says. “And so am I.” The tension in the room shifts, giving way to something warmer, more electric. As the three of you stand there, the possibilities of what comes next hanging in the air, you can’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and anticipation

Luke exhales slowly, his expression shifting from disbelief to cautious consideration. His eyes flick between you and Jack, the charged silence thickening. Jack steps closer, placing a steadying hand on your back, his touch grounding as he glances at his brother.

“Luke,” Jack says softly, his tone more relaxed now. “This isn’t about pushing boundaries or making things weird. It’s about trust. And... about her.” His gaze moves to you, warm and protective. “If she’s open to it, I am too. And I think, deep down, you’ve been curious too.”

Luke swallows hard, clearly at war with himself. Finally, he nods, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Alright,” he says, his voice low but steady. “But only if this is what you want.” His eyes lock on yours, his sincerity striking.

You smile softly, stepping forward to close the gap between you and Luke. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” you assure him. Then, turning your head slightly, you glance back at Jack.  The weight of the moment settles over the three of you, the air crackling with an intensity that feels both thrilling and vulnerable. Slowly, you step closer to Luke, the uncertainty in his expression giving way to something warmer. You reach out, your hand brushing against his cheek, and he freezes for a moment before leaning into your touch.

Luke nods slightly, convincing himself that this is really happening, his eyes flicking to Jack’s before returning to yours. He leans forward, hesitating just a fraction before his lips meet yours. The kiss is tentative at first, soft and searching, but it deepens as you respond, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging on the ends of his curls as he pulls your closer to him - his hands knotted in your shirt.

Behind you, Jack’s hands slide down your arms, his touch both reassuring and suggestive. When Luke pulls back, his breathing uneven, Jack presses a kiss to the side of your neck, his lips warm against your skin.

“You okay?” Jack murmurs, his voice close to your ear.

You nod, your breath hitching as you look between them. “Better than okay,” you whisper.

Luke’s expression softens, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “This still feels... surreal,” he admits, his voice tinged with a mix of wonder and hesitation.

Jack chuckles softly, his tone light but teasing. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, his arm sliding around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.  Luke’s lips twitch into a tentative smile, “Yeah,” he says quietly. 

As the three of you stand there, the Christmas lights casting a warm glow over the room, the boundaries between you blur, giving way to something deeper, more intimate. Your gaze snaps away from Luke’s as you both turn to look at Jack who steps away from the two of you. 

“Alright, well I’ll leave you to it.” Jack jokes lightly, clasping his hands together, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He warns his younger brother, whose mouth falls open as his brothers attempted retreat. 

Luke’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jack by the arm before he can leave. “Oh, no, you don’t,” Luke says, his voice low but firm. His grip tightens just enough to make Jack pause. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Jack raises an eyebrow, half amused, half surprised. “What? Thought you’d wanted me out of the way.”

Luke smirks, an edge of confidence creeping into his expression. “Not anymore. You started this, Jack. You don’t get to walk away now.” His words are calm but carry a deliberate challenge that makes Jack hesitate.

You glance between them, your pulse quickening as the tension shifts again, this time carrying a playful undercurrent. “Luke’s got a point,” you chime in, your voice soft but teasing. “You can’t just drop this bomb and then vanish.”

Jack tilts his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I can’t?” he teases, his tone light but his eyes glinting with something sharper.

Luke steps closer, his grin widening as he stands toe-to-toe with his older brother. “Not unless you’re scared,” he taunts, his voice dripping with mock bravado.

Jack scoffs, rolling his eyes but clearly enjoying the game. “Scared? Of you?” He gestures vaguely in your direction, his grin turning wicked. “I just figured I’d give you two some space. But if you need me to show you how it’s done...” He trails off, shrugging dramatically.  Jack exhales slowly, his gaze locking with yours for a long moment before shifting to Luke.

Luke watches the exchange carefully, his arms still crossed but his posture relaxing. “You sure you’re up for this, Jack?” he asks, his tone teasing but his eyes serious.

Jack smirks, his confidence returning in full force. “Please,” he says, stepping closer to you and sliding an arm around your waist. “I think the real question is—are you?”

Luke lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Cocky as ever,” he mutters, but there’s a warmth in his tone now, a subtle shift in the dynamic between the three of you.

As the Christmas lights twinkle in the background, the room seems to hum with an energy that’s both thrilling and tender. Whatever comes next, you know it’s something none of you will forget.

Luke watches Jack closely, his smirk fading into something softer. “Alright,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, as if he’s surrendering to the moment. “Let’s see if you can back up all that talk.”

Jack chuckles, but it’s less sharp now, his usual cocky confidence tempered by the weight of what’s unfolding. His gaze shifts to you, and he presses a lingering kiss to your temple, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. “You okay with this?” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring.

You nod, your heart racing but not from nerves—from excitement. “Yeah,” you say softly. “You two can stop asking me that now.”

Luke steps closer, his hesitance melting away as he mirrors Jack’s careful movements. He brushes a hand along your arm, his touch light and tentative, as though he’s testing the waters. When you glance up at him, he meets your gaze with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “It’s about continuous consent, this stops the second you say so.” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sure,” you reply, and you reach out to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Jack doesn’t let the moment linger too long. “See, Luke?” he says lightly, his tone edging back into playfulness. “Told you she’d be into it.”

Luke rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice behind it. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Part of my charm,” Jack shoots back with a grin, his other hand sliding along your waist as he pulls you closer.

The charged air between the three of you grows heavier, the lines blurring even more as you feel Luke’s hand brush against your back. He’s still cautious, like he’s waiting for a signal that it’s okay to let go, to fully step into this strange, uncharted space the three of you have found yourselves in. Jack notices the hesitation and chuckles softly.

 “Relax, Luke. You’re not going to break her.” His voice is warm, teasing but kind, and it seems to put Luke at ease. With that, Luke leans in, his lips finding yours again. This time, the kiss is more confident, his movements less uncertain as his hands settle on your waist. Jack’s presence is grounding, his steady touch a constant reminder of the trust you all share.

Jack grins, clearly satisfied, while Luke’s expression softens, his usual sharp edges replaced with something vulnerable and new. The room feels smaller now, the three of you wrapped in a moment that’s equal parts thrilling and overwhelming. Luke’s voice breaks the silence, his tone lighter now but still tinged with disbelief. 

“This is... not how I thought tonight would go.”

Jack laughs, his hand resting on Luke’s shoulder. “Welcome to life with her,” he says, his gaze full of affection as he looks at you. “Never boring.” Jacks pulls your hair away from your shoulders, taking a step back and making his way over to the couch, perching on one of the cushions as he speaks, “Baby, you should tell him all about that thing you wanted to try.” 

Luke’s eyes leave his brother as he tilts his head down to look at you, his hands leaving your waist to gently cup the underside of your jaw, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks as he takes you in. He raises a questioning brow as you hesitate, the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“I like your thighs.” You blurt out - Jack letting out a bark of laughter as your words linger. 

“And what do you want me to do with this information?” Luke questions back. 

“I want to ride them.”  

Luke blinks at your bluntness, his grip on your jaw faltering for a split second before his lips quirk into an amused smirk. His eyes glint with both surprise and intrigue as he leans slightly closer. “Is that right?” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave.

Jack’s laugh subsides into a low chuckle, and he shakes his head, clearly entertained. “Well, she doesn’t beat around the bush,” he says, reclining further into the couch with an easy confidence. “Guess you’ve got your work cut out for you, little brother.”

Luke’s gaze flickers briefly to Jack, a hint of competitiveness in his expression, before returning to you. “I think I can handle it,” he says, his voice steady but laced with playful challenge. His hands slide from your face to your hips, steadying you as he takes a slow step back toward the couch.  The weight of Luke’s hands on your hips is grounding, and the anticipation coursing through you feels electric.

Luke sits down, his broad frame sinking into the cushions as he watches you with a mix of curiosity and confidence. His legs part slightly, and he pats one of his thighs, the smirk never leaving his face. “Alright, then. Show me what you’ve got.”

Jack whistles low, clearly enjoying the shift in dynamic. “This should be good,” he says, but there’s no malice in his tone—just a genuine appreciation for the moment unfolding.

You step closer to Luke, your pulse quickening as his hands find your waist again. He steadies you as you move to straddle one of his thighs, the firmness of his muscle beneath you sending a thrill through your body. Luke’s hands remain on your hips, guiding you gently but firmly as you settle in.

“Comfortable?” he asks, his voice softer now, the teasing edge giving way to something more genuine.

“Very,” you reply, your breath hitching as you shift slightly against him. The friction is tantalising, and you bite your lip, meeting his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his expression a mix of concentration and curiosity as he watches you move.

Jack’s voice cuts through the tension, smooth and teasing. “Don’t go easy on him, baby.” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he observes, his presence adding another layer of heat to the moment.

Luke exhales a shaky breath, his hands tightening on your hips as you grind against him, the flimsy material of your pyjama shorts bunching up around your hips as you move. “You’re... full of surprises,” he mutters, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and amusement.

You lean forward, your hands resting on his shoulders as you press your lips to his ear. “And the nights just getting started,” you whisper, your voice low and teasing.

Luke’s breath catches, and his grip on you steadies. Luke exhales deeply, his hands firming on your hips as if to anchor himself in the moment. His thigh shifts slightly beneath you, and the subtle motion sends a jolt of pleasure through your body. His gaze locks with yours, his expression softening into something more intimate, more vulnerable.

“Just getting started, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a mixture of teasing and wonder. His hands slide from your hips to your waist, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your shirt. “Guess I better keep up.”

From the couch, Jack’s low chuckle breaks the silence. “You’re doing fine so far, Luke. But I wouldn’t get too comfortable. She’s got high standards.” His tone is light, but the warmth in his voice is unmistakable.

You glance over your shoulder at Jack, his relaxed posture contrasting with the heat in his eyes as he watches you and Luke. The weight of his gaze sends another thrill through you, and you turn back to Luke, emboldened. Your hands slide up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as you lean in closer.

“I don’t think he’ll disappoint,” you murmur, your lips hovering just over his. Luke’s breath hitches again - a part of him still in disbelief that his brothers girlfriend is currently on top of him -  his grip on your waist tightening as he closes the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s more confident now, more consuming.

You let out a soft moan against his lips as you feel Luke’s thigh tense below you, his muscles hard and rigid beneath you as he pushes you further down onto his leg - a part of you glad for your choice to go commando in your pyjamas tonight - your clit rubbing deliciously against the rough fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Fuck, Luke.” You hiss as his lips leave yours, pressing soft kisses against your neck as you throw your head back, his hands smoothing up from your hands until they slip under your hoodie, your bearskin breaking out in goosebumps as he stops just under the curve of your breasts. He finds the junction of your jaw sucking sharply as your hips start to falter on his hips. 

“She’s close.” Jack notes, sounding nothing more then a curious spectator as he watches - You can feel Luke smile against your neck as he lifts his thumbs, to graze over your nipples - the ever so soft stimulation pushing you over the edge, as your teeth sink into your lip - your eyes slamming shut as you let out a whispered whine as your orgasm rushes over you. 

Your body trembles against Luke’s, the aftermath of your release leaving you breathless and lightheaded. Luke’s hands steady you, his touch firm but comforting as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. There’s a softness in his expression now, a quiet awe that contrasts with the intensity of moments before.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice low and tinged with concern.

You nod, a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips. “More than okay,” you murmur, your voice still a little unsteady.

Jack leans back against the couch, his arms stretched along the backrest, his grin equal parts smug and affectionate. “Told you she’d enjoy herself,” he says, his tone teasing but warm. “Didn’t expect you to handle it so well, though, Luke.”

Luke snorts, shaking his head as he glances over at his brother. “You really know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?”

Jack shrugs, his grin widening. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

You let out a soft laugh, the playful banter between the brothers grounding you in the moment. As your breathing steadies, you shift slightly, slipping off Luke’s thigh to sit beside him. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist, pulling you close as Jack watches with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

“Well,” Jack says after a moment, his voice light but his gaze lingering on you. “That was fun.”

Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You glance between the two brothers, their contrasting demeanours—Luke’s cautious curiosity and Jack’s confident mischief—only adding to the heady anticipation building between you.

“Why are you saying that like I’m even remotely finished.” Luke asks his brother, his voice soft but steady.

Jack’s grin turns wicked, his eyes glinting with playful intent. “Oh,” he says, pushing off the couch and stepping closer. He crouches in front of you, his hand brushing against your knee as his gaze locks with yours. “Well do continue.” You bite your lip, the thrill of the unknown sending a shiver through you. Luke’s hand tightens slightly on your waist, his expression serious but supportive.  Jack’s grin softens into something more genuine, and he leans forward to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the arm of the couch - his gaze wandering over you. 

Luke rolls his eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Go sit in front of Jack, get comfortable,” he mutters, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh. The atmosphere between the three of you shifts once again, the room humming with an unspoken energy as the possibilities of the night stretch out before you.

You shuffle away from Luke, smiling as you slip yourself between Jack’s thighs, his arms wrapping around your torso to you back against him - his lips pressing a kiss into your hair. Luke takes a big breath before he turns towards the two of you - pulling himself onto his knees as his hands reach for the waistband on your shorts. “Do you mind?” He questions, waiting for the shake of your head before he slowly starts slipping them down your legs - your hips raising to help slip the shorts off. 

“No underwear?” Jack whispers from behind you, “Naughty, I like it.” He grins. The two of you watch Luke move, the younger boy shuffling further back on the couch  - his hand wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you down the couch with him, his body lying flat on the cushions until you line up with his mouth. 

Your lean your head back against Jacks abdomen looking up at him in surprise as he shoots your a soft grin. “Watch him, not me.” He whispers, pushing your hair away from your face, “tonight is for you, baby.” Your eyes lower back to Luke, his hands lifting your thighs till they sit comfortably over his shoulders, his hot breath teasing against you. 

“You’re so wet.” He mumbles, your pussy glistening in front of him, as he leans forwards to swipe his tongue against you. Luke lets out a low groan as the taste of your hits his tongue, his fingers digging into your thighs as his mouth latches onto you - his tongue flicking against your clit as your breath catches in your throat. 

“Oh, shit.” You curse, one hand gripping the forearm Jack has around your torso, your other hand sliding into Luke’s curls as he sucks on you - the almost silent room filling with the lewd sounds of Luke’s mouth working. Luke’s teeth graze against you as your hips buck, his fingers sliding against your slit as he gathers your moisture before teasing his fingers at the entrance of your cunt. 

“If I died right now, I’d die a happy man.” Luke jokes, as his fingers slip inside of you - your head tilting further back against your boyfriend as you let out a shaky exhale. Jack just chuckles at his brother, his hands lifting your shirt until your breasts fall free, Luke eyes darting up to his brother before dropping back down to your tight nipples. 

“Finish the job, Lukey.” Jack says, an invitation, as Luke doesn’t waste his chance to lean forwards, sucking your right nipple into his mouth - his fingers working inside of you at a steady pace, your hips bucking as he brushes the spot inside of you that you can never seem to reach on your own. 

Lukes mouth leaves your nipple, the cold air hitting your wet flesh as he moves to suck the other nipple - your back arching at the overstimulation. “Come for us, baby.” Jack whispers into your ear, Luke adding a third finger as his thumb joins to rub soft circles against your clit - your thighs fighting against Luke’s body still slipped between them, wanting desperately to slam shut. 

You know both of the brothers as smiling as you come down from your orgasm, your chest heaving as Luke leans forwards to capture your lips one more time - his kiss gentle but all consuming as he seems to eat every whine that leaves you as his fingers slow their movements. 

“Merry Christmas.” Jack says as Luke pulls his fingers from you, your cunt clenching around the emptiness as he dips them into his mouth. 

“Merry Christmas.” Luke responds, a shit eating grin on his face. 

+

+

The morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The quiet hum of the world waking up outside was a stark contrast to the tangled intimacy of the night before. You stretched lazily, the ache in your thighs and the lingering warmth in your chest a reminder of the boundaries you’d crossed—or perhaps, dismantled entirely.

Jack was still sprawled on your mattress, his arm draped over his face, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips even in rest. You leaned over pressing a soft kiss against your boyfriend’s cheek before slipping out of bed quietly, tugging one of Jack’s oversized shirts over your head and padding softly into the kitchen. The mundane act of making coffee was grounding, the hiss of the machine and the rich aroma filling the room like a balm. You were pouring a second cup when you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you.

“Morning.” Luke’s voice was husky with sleep, his hair a disheveled mess as he leaned against the counter. His eyes met yours, a flicker of uncertainty there, but also something warmer, deeper.

“Morning,” you replied, handing him a cup. The silence stretched for a moment, comfortable but charged, until Luke broke it.

“Last night…” He trailed off, his fingers tightening around the mug. “I mean, are we… okay? Are you okay?”

You smiled softly, stepping closer to him. “I’m okay. Are you?”

He nodded, his expression lightening. “Yeah, just… trying to wrap my head around everything. It’s not every day your brother ropes you into something like this.”

Jack chose that moment to saunter into the kitchen, shirtless and unapologetic. “Something like what?” he teased, his grin wide and shameless as he grabbed the mug you’d prepared for him. “Don’t tell me you’re already overthinking it, Luke.”

Luke shot him a glare, but there was no real venom behind it. “I’m not overthinking it. Just… processing.”

Jack’s gaze softened slightly, though his smirk remained. “Good. Processing is fine. But let’s not turn this into something weird, alright? Last night happened because we all wanted it to. Nobody was coerced, nobody’s regretting anything.” He glanced at you, his tone turning more serious. “Right?”

You shook your head. “No regrets.”

Luke exhaled a quiet laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Okay, no regrets.” He agrees, his gaze trained on you as you turn to greet his older brother, Jack pulling you in for a long kiss, your bodies swaying together as you let out a light laugh - Luke just watches,  his arms tingling with the phantom wish of being able to hold you the way his brother does. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” Jack breaks the silence, turning you in his arms to face his younger brother, “Round two?” He teases with a laugh, both you and Luke letting out a groan at the same time. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Right This Way

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get lost on a campus on your first day of college and a helpful stranger shows you around.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: this is the third of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You’ve leapt over one hurdle for the day but it won’t be the last. Your first lecture is done, but now you have to find your way to the second. Typically, you’d be on your way home. For years, you languished in part-time or sabbatical coverage but now, you have achieved regular faculty status. It might not be the school you hoped for, but these days, a job is a job. 

You gather up your things as the class disburses. A few keeners come down to ask you about the midterm and you assure them it’s only day one. Full details will come soon. In the meantime, they can review the readings schedule. 

You set your phone on the corner of the table as you search for your wireless mouse. You bring your own. You’ve had enough experience with neglected classroom equipment. 

“Hey, Miss,” a deep voice rolls behind you and swings you around. A young man with golden hair, a square jaw, and a letterman jacket stands across the table. He is a factory-issue frat. You had your share of those in your own time as an underclassman; as a professor, they don’t often bother you unless they get an F. “Just wanted to chat about a few things I got this term.” 

“Oh, sure,” you say as you reach for your phone. His eyes follow your hand. His cheek dimples. 

“You on your way to Ford too? We can walk and talk if that’s easier?” He offers. 

You’re not sure if you should take his eagerness as a good sign. At least he is mindful. At first glance, you don’t expect that. 

“Um, if you don’t mind, I have my next class there,” you agree. 

You hike up your bag and black the screen of your phone. You’re a bit embarrassed that he noticed the maps wide open on your phone. You’re still gearing your way around. 

He waits patiently, bouncing in his brown leather Vans as you round the table. “Steve, by the way.” He offers his hand in an overly formal gesture. You know that brand of frat. They put on that gentleman act for the elders. It’s a charm you would’ve fallen for twenty years ago. 

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” you shake his hand then continue to the door. 

He hurries past you and pulls open the door ahead of you. Again, that overly helpful gesture twinges your suspicion. He must be asking for something big. 

“So, I play baseball,” he begins as you set off down the hall. He quickly catches up, walking parallel with you. “And I just got my schedule. I can get coach t give you a call if you need but I’ll be out of town for a few classes...” 

“Right, baseball,” you repeat. You’re not fighting the senate on this one. They prize their start athletes much higher than due dates. “I’m sure we can figure it out. Did you have your schedule with you?” 

“Um, you know what, I don’t have it printed but I can email it,” he says. 

Once more, he opens the door ahead of you. You step out into the early fall sun and descend the steps. It’s a quick conversation, it might be awkward to stick around. 

“That works,” you agree. “I don’t want to keep you so if you want--” 

“Nah, really, I’m headed in your direction,” he insists. “You do know where that is, right?” 

You look at him. His blue eyes gleam. You peer around and shake your head, “that way?” You point. 

He laughs, “no worries, professor, I got you.” 

He puts his hand on your lower back and points in the opposite direction. You turn to move away from his touch. You blame the little club he’s joined in his youthful arrogance. They never do abide by the rules. After all, he is asking for exception, so why wouldn’t he overstep other barriers. 

“So, you must be new,” he intones. 

“Here, yeah,” you confirm. 

“What else do you teach besides Renaissance history?” 

“My specialty is medieval but I’ve taken on various subjects; ancient warfare, Victorian culture,” you rattle off. You know he doesn’t really care. For the jocks, classes are simply an afterthought. “What got you into this subject?” 

“I like art,” he says. “Figured it wouldn’t be a bad elective.” 

“I hope,” you reply. He points you around the curling path. You hesitate. You peeked at the map. This seems wrong but you did find the only dead end on campus earlier. 

“You seem young for a prof,” he says. 

You snort, “I don’t give extra credit for compliments.” 

“I mean it,” he argues. 

“Right,” you huff dryly. “Steve.” 

He smirks as you glance at him, “wow, you got that professor voice down. ‘Steve’.” He mimics your tone and chuckles. You shuffle closer as you pass a group of young girls but he doesn’t seem to notice them. 

“Like I said, it isn’t my first gig. Just new around here.” 

“I think you’ll like it,” he intones. “Nice campus, nice people,” he preens. “A few profs pop by the parties even. Open invitation.” 

It’s your turn to laugh, “oh, I’ve outgrown that.” 

“Classy lady, I’m sure,” he agrees. You’re not sure if he’s complimenting you. “Well, what about back in the day?” He wordlessly gestures you along as he guides you. “You are party girl? Sow your wild oats?” 

“That was a long time ago. It’s probably better left back then,” you deflect. 

“Come on. I won’t judge. I’m a bit of a square myself. I’m the designated tidier. I pick up after all the drunks,” he snorts. 

You hum. You don’t miss those days. Everything was so much more stressful. Not just classes but everything outside of it. Who to hang out with, what to where, where to go. 

You slow as you look around again. You’re behind one of the large gray buildings but not too sure where. It’s a path lined with trees and abstract statues. They’re benches and an engraved stone wall memorial. You don’t see any buildings close by. Maybe it’s one of those at the other end. 

“Told you, it’s a nice campus. Doesn’t seem like you’ve gotten to see much of it,” he says. 

“Not yet,” you agree. 

“It’s a short cut. Trust,” he says. 

You nod and continue on. He turns towards the twisted metal owl and you go with him. You really don’t think he’s going the right way. You sneak your phone out of your pocket and press your thumb to the screen. 

Suddenly, you’re nearly knocked off your feet at he bowls into you. 

“Woah,” he collides with you so hard your phone falls onto the ground. “Shit-- I mean, holy cow. Sorry, miss. I tripped on--” He steadies you with a hand on your shoulder. “Did I--” He looks down at your phone on the stone path. “My bad.” 

He scoops it up before you can and you recoil. Your eyes wander away from him and you examine your surroundings. The trees, the statue, it all blocks you off from the main path in an eerie way. You can hear the bird’s tweeting and the coeds chatting but you can’t see them. 

“Damn,” Steve’s voice draws you back as dread simmers in your stomach. “I think it’s cracked.” 

He walks ahead of you as he examines it. You trail him, “it’s fine. I can take it to the store and have them look--” 

“I’m real sorry, professor,” he cradles the phone between his large hands. “I’m such an oaf. Bet I’m not gonna get that extension now, huh?” 

“Everything’s okay, Steve. You can give me my phone,” you reach for him as he leads you into the shade of a large oak. “What are you doing?” 

He pulls his arm back, aims, and throws your phone. It flies through the air as you gasp and lunge forward. What the hell? 

His arm wraps around you from behind and he swings you back. You cry out but only for a split second before his palm smothers your mouth. He leans his body weight back and brings you down with him into the grass. What is he doing? 

You struggle to get away. You grab at his arm hooked around you and claw at the grass with your other hand. You writhe and try to twist away from him. He follows you, crushing you to the grass beneath him. You wheeze as his weight forces the air from your lungs. 

You flail both arms and sink your fingers into the dirt as you fight to drag yourself from under him. You can’t. He growls as he pulls his arm from under you and grips the back of your skull. He keeps your head twisted on your neck, clamping it between his large hands. 

“Shut up,” he snarls. “Be good for me, professor, and this will all go quickly.” 

You gurgle into his hand as your heart hitches. Why is he doing this? You said yes. You didn’t argue. 

“I’m going to move my hand and you’re going to stay nice and quiet, aren’t you?” 

You try to scream into his palm and he wrenches your head down into the ground. The grass is soft but the impact is enough to make your nose fuzzy. He hushes you. 

“I mean it, alright? Shut your mouth or I’ll fill it with dirt,” he snarls. 

You whimper and nod, puffing against his palm. Your body tenses before you slowly make yourself go limp. You lay your head against his hand and let your arms still. You raise your hands slightly to say, ‘see, I’m good’. 

He huffs and slowly drags his hand away, smearing your spit across your cheek. You sniffle as your eyes prick and you inhale the scent of dirt. You can hardly breathe as your chest throbs and burns. 

“Ah, don’t act so hard up,” he chuckles. “Bet you don’t get a lot of guys these days,” he pushes his knee between both of yours. “Sad, cause you don’t look half bad in this.” 

He tugs your skirt up your legs as he shifts his weight around. The satin tickles your thighs and sends a shiver through you. You close your eyes, your forehead flush to the ground. You liked that skirt so much. You bought it just for your first day. 

The thought stabs into your heart. You push your hands flat to the ground and brace yourself. Denial cords around you as terror clogs your throat. This can’t be happening but it is and all you can do is let it. 

“Mm, not bad,” he rasps as he pushes between your thighs. “Come on, loosen up for me.” 

He moves your slack legs apart and runs his fingers along the cotton of your panties. He purrs as he traces the edges along your ass and back again. He snakes his hand under you and presses against the fabric and feels your folds through the thin layer. 

“I’m so goddamn hard right now, you have no idea,” he says.  

You chuff out air. You try not to hear him, not to feel him. He slips his fingers beneath your panties and rubs your lips. He pets your head as he cooes in your ear. 

“See, I’m being nice. Isn’t that nice? I know you wouldn’t be shaking like that if you didn’t like it.” 

He rubs between your folds roughly as he presses his crotch against your ass. He rocks against you as he teases you. You scrunch your toes tightly as a tingle crawls along your thighs. No, please. You don’t want to feel anything. 

He purrs as he continues to move his pelvis, breathing heavily behind your ear as he growls. He stretches his fingers along your cunt and delves into you. He pushes his hand further and curls his finger through your entrance. 

The heel of his hand brushes against your clit as he moves. You whine as the coil winds around and around and around, tying up your guts in knots. You shudder and bring your hands to your hand, digging your nails into your scalp as you spasm. You cum, slickening his touch as a mortifying moan escapes between your lips. 

He slides his fingers out of you. You groan. Your tears leak out and trickle onto the grass. He trails his hand around, leaving wetness along your shirt. He angles above you, pushing your knees apart with both of his. He splays you and tugs your panties to the crease of your thigh. 

His zipper slices the moment. Your breath cramps in your chest as you hold it in. He guides his tip along your thighs. He feels you quiver, teasing and toying, as he rubs up and down your folds. He slides up by your cheeks and you clench. He laughs and traces back to your entrance. 

He uses his thumb to push his tip through your resistance. You tighten around his intrusion and squeak out your breath. He shushes you and you swallow down a sob. He inches into you, his own exhale flowing over you like a cold storm. 

He sinks in to his limit and you bury your toes into the dirt. You heave as he pulls back and thrusts in again. Your shoulders curl with tension and your spine locks. He pumps again and moans, petting your hair as he falls into a rhythm. 

“God, you’re tight,” he grits. “I heard... well, I guess everyone lies.” 

He runs his hand down the side of your head and beneath your forehead. He forces your head up and nuzzles your hair as he tilts into you. He puffs across your scalp. 

“I didn’t see a ring,” he reaches up to clasp your hand, twining his fingers through yours as he continues to rut. 

He keeps you like that, fucking you harder into the dirt. He lifts his hips, slamming them down so his zipper bites at you. He pounds at you relentlessly, shallow breaths mingling damply in the cool autumn breeze.  

You open your eyes and stare across the grass. Your vision blurs around the tree trunks and wooden benches. Your grief and glazes over and drowns you in horror. 

“Welcome to campus, prof,” he growls between nipping your ear. “Oh... and don’t worry about those missed classes. I didn’t make the team.” 

[ssparksflyy]

percy x zeus!gf hcs pls!!! and could i request it to be more on the funny side and how percy and zeus have beef but also get along cuz of gf

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

percy jackson dating hcs ! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of zeus!reader warning(s): little bit of swearing an: hi! ty for requesting <3 im literally not even funny but i hope u enjoy thissss! also theres a lotta taylor in this one 🤭

BIG REPUTATION BIG REPUTATION OHHH YOU AND ME WE GOT BIG REPUTATIONS AHHH

it doesnt matter if youre a social butterfly or antisocial, everybody knew you and percy before you even started dating

so best believe when you actually got together, everybody ( literally ) cheered

but your flirting era had to be on of the most painful things to watch

seriously doesnt matter if you got game or not, percy is literally oblivious and a LOSERRRRR

im so sorry but somebody had to say it

bro had THE BIGGEST crush on you and whenever he'd try to like compliment you itd usually sound a little weird

tell me why he'd probably say something like

"i like your outfit today! that shirt for sure looks better with those jeans than it did with the shorts you wore 2 weeks ago :)"

lil creep

cue silena crying in the corner because she made a bet with beckendorf and it is NOT looking good for her right now

WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE.

you guys are iconic

like well-known power couple

I'D be scared to train with you guys cause like what do you MEAN i gotta go against the best swordsmen at camp and the daughter of the king of the gods??

no thank you, i choose life ♡

when people are asked to think of a couple, they immediately think of you guys

everybody loves you guys for real

if you ever broke up ( which you wont, percy would probably just say "no" ) itd probably leave everybody super torn

ITD BE LIKE IN GILMORE GIRLS WHEN LORELAI AND LUKE BROKE UP AND THE WHOLE TOWN LIKE TOOK SIDES

if you havent watched gilmore girls, that basically sums the situation up. lorelai is literally like the town's sweetheart and luke is the owner of the most popular diner in their small town ♡ very cutesy

so sorry for the spoiler

SALLY LOVESSS YOU

she's literally so sweet and treats you as if you were her own child

she'd definitely bake cookies when you first meet and if you liked them, you best believe you are being sent back to camp with a baggie full of cookies

cant love you as much as percy does though !!

youre literally his queen

( sorry i say literally a lot )

he treats you like royaltyyyyy

always opening doors for you, walks you everywhere, follows the sidewalk rule, everything ♡

when its raining, he picks you up bridal style and takes you wherever you need to go, so you dont get your shoes wet ♡♡

yall literally live in the rain tho

neither of you leave your cabin with an umbrella, the rain just gives you life

AND I DONT KNOW WHY BUT WITH YOU ID DANCE IN A STORM IN MY BEST DRESS FEARLESS

one time, you went out for a fancy dinner, got dressed up all nice very fancy very fancy

BUT you BOTH forgot to check the weather

and it ended up POURING rain by the time you got out of the restaurant

and i kid you not

percy just grabs you by the hand, leads you out into the rain, and begins to dance with you.

no coverage, no music, no fucks given. just him and his girl.

he treasures that moment forever and ever

all the gods looked down at you from olympus and melted

neither of you care if you're disrespecting your fathers, you spend almost every night together ♡

percy is absolutely a big cuddler

literally just adores the feeling of you close to him

oh lord save him his drug is his baby he'll be using for the rest of his life

falling asleep together is so easy, you just melt into each other's touch

waking up is what's harder

neither of you want to leave the bed, and neither of you want the other person to leave the bed either.

percy's the typa guy to just have a sweet little conversation with you before he gets up for the day

you always get a good morning ( and a good night! ), then percy asks you what's on your schedule for the day ( as if he hasn't memorized it by now ), and what you wanted for breakfast that morning

he simply cannot get up without it

he's also the type of guy to just whisper sweet nothings into your ear if he wakes up before you ♡

he just goes on a little ramble about how pretty you look when your sleeping, even though you are sleeping while he's 'talking' to you

sorry where was i?

ZEUS.

the bastrard HATES percy and percy HATES the bastard

theyve literally been beefing since he was 12 years old

so best believe when zeus found out his daughter was dating this son of poseidon??? oo he was PISSEDDD.

poseidon is literally so chill with you. like he just cares that percy is happy. seriously doesn't care about who your dad is. if anything, he already sees you as family

zeus holds back everything in him to not kill percy on the spot every time you make out

he doesn't do it because he knows you'd probably walk to the underworld to get him back and hades would go feral if he got another orpheus & eurydice

percy gives zero fucks. he flips off the sky every time he walks outside

percy is so sweet and caring and kind and shows your father such respect like hes literally an angel 😇😇

i wouldn't say that he starts like actually respecting him, but he tries not to offend him as often as usual, just for you ♡

in the scenario that you'd have to make a trip to olympus, percy and zeus put on their big boy pants and try to tolerate each other

hera dont like you or percy bro she's literally just there

its okay though, you both despise her for kidnapping percy and wiping his memory ♡♡♡

JASON AND THALIA HOWEVER

thalia would definitely be the dramatic dad that zeus cant be (in person, at least)

whenever she and the hunters stay at camp she ( jokingly ) tells percy

"jackson, i want her home by NINE PEE EM. no later. i expect you won't be drinking, and you will be TAKING CARE OF HER. in the instance that i hear you DONT, i think you'll be taking a second trip across the river styx, you hear me?"

in like an sergeant voice and everything

percy plays along with it and salutes her going "yes ma'am!"

jason thinks you are so cute together

since you were at camp when the whole switcheroo thing happened, jason knew you first, and you were instantly best buddies

you told him about percy, and once he met him, he was happy to find out he was exactly like you described him

jason and thalia are ur #1 supporters ♡

in summary, alexa play that should be me

[writingstoraes]

no way 📹

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reporter!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: i want to say thank you for 1.5k! thank u for all the love you guys have been giving me and my works hehe <3 i really appreciate all notes, reblogs, replies, and messages hehe much love to everyone reading this! ❤️

about: fans notice how charles loses his senses when you're interviewing him, but they don't believe he has enough courage to do something about it!

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 563,103 others

yourusername Back in the paddock once again 🎤

norristri not charles liking this within a minute of being posted 😭😭

ferrari1655 not surprised if he has her notifs on tbh he's just as whipped for her as we are

mercmilton THE it girl of the paddock i don't make the rules!

c2champs y/n please do some content with charles and carlos i am begging

charles_leclerc ❤️

hamilnicos u a grown ass handsome man surely you can do more than just a red heart

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, estebanocon, and 431,025 others

yourusername Some paddock coverage this week 👩‍💻

chacha16 oh i just know charles is fuming y/n interviews everyone often but him 😭

sainzstappen all he had with her was one post-race interview and he was down bad already and STUTTERING lecstulips she had him giggling and shit while talking about his rear tyre failure prior to qualifying its so funny 😭

paddockgirlie Charles has once again beaten me to liking Y/N's post he is like lightning oh my god

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

chacha16 the two hearts is sending me charles im so sorry HHHDDBHFBHFBH

rbrwinners you dropped this queen 👑

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, and 540,195 others

yourusername Covering and reporting this week's race from the garage of a certain Italian racing team ❤️

Can't wait for you guys to watch the contents we had prepared!

charles_leclerc We loved having you here! ❤️

sainzbaby lose the "we" charles we all know it was just you

hamilecs ITS HAPPENING OH MY GOD CHARLES GET UP

gaslysgirlie i love how charles is just fuelling the agenda that he has a crush on y/n he's not even trying to be discreet

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly, and 302,294 others

yourusername Some outtakes from today! Had a nice time filming with charles_leclerc and carlossainz55 of Ferrari ❤️

charles_leclerc Til next time, Y/N! :)

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️ ilpredesti the smiley face oh hes so adorable

lecsmilton i just KNOW charles is having a field day rn

c2foreva we are getting more of flustered charles then 😭

44sainz we love you queen we can't wait 🙏

ynlover

liked by charles_leclerc, wagf1s, 44fan4, and 1,203 others

ynlover Charles and Carlos with Y/N today 🥰

lestappenthusiast WHY IS CHARLES HEREHFBFBHH

hamilnorris charles liked?????

loverfineline they're both winking 😭😭😭

rbrmercs now a y/n fan account is the last place i thought charles would be

YouTube, now playing: C2 Takes On 2 Challenges with Y/N!

6,372 comments

suckerforcharles: WHEN THE HELL DID CHARLES GET SO BOLD

1655sainz: holy shit i was not expecting that 😭

ricciardotauri: all yall kept saying charles had no rizz whatsoever and he decided to prove u guys wrong im crying

c2luvah: OK I TAKE IT BACK charles has got some moves in him

f1fanatic: what did y/n mean with "finally" like miss girl were u waiting too 🤭

olliefans: Carlos saying Charles is Y/N's favorite?? omg

6,501 comments

sainzmilton: I bet Carlos can't believe they're flirting right in front of his salad

lecslover: NOT Y/N FLIRTING TOO?????

luvroscoe: i'm shocked how charles didn't faint when y/n said that cause

sports55: y/n please flirt with me like that too queen 😣

6,712 comments

lewiswdc: y/n so much better than me i would have dropped dead if charles said that to me

supermaxmax: who the hell gave charles all this rizz and why was he hiding it DAMN MAN

fan2345: I am not an F1 fan but I am so invested in this I wonder if they're actually going to push through with this date 🤨

taytayrep: charles got his head in the game fr

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, pierregasly, and 1,204,582 others

charles_leclerc There really was a great restaurant downtown.

sainzznorris I CANT BREATHEEEEEE

carlandos what a lucky man y/n is so pretty 😣

scuderiazz we're glad you finally got the courage to ask her out, king!

paddock5516 ouuu those interviews with her are so gonna hit from now on

carlossainz55 You know I let you win, right?

charles_leclerc Stop ruining this for me

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @fdl305, @iloveyou3000morgan, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant, @ang3licho3, @pitlanebabe, @riverdalexvixens, @msliz (if anyone else wants to be a part of my taglist, pls lmk by replying or sending me a message hehe)

notes: thank u so much for reading <3

[hatsunemitskislobotomy]

ੈ✩‧₊“ 𝙨𝙤 𝙞'𝙢𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 ”✧.*

“ i’d wanna hold you, just for a while ”

↳ ❝ ¡love and deepspace zayne x reader centric fic based on 4* doomsday card— early birthday piece!❞

﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤

zayne was ever the nonchalant person.

even after hearing about the potential doomsday, he continued as if it were business as usual. something about his ability to keep his cool, perhaps it was tied to his evol.

you on the other hand, were not as composed no matter how much zayne seemed to tease.

“you really believe that an article can predict such an event with no substantial proof?” he would chuckle as he threw in another pastry into your shared shopping cart

of course you knew better, but the seeds of doubt and anxiety had already been planted in your mind. rationally speaking there would be more articles about it, more media coverage— but you couldn’t help but feel like the post landed on your feed for a reason. after all if it wasn’t true why did you have to see it?

you continued to chastise zayne who was careless about his sugar intake, as if he didn’t just recently recover from a toothache. at the very least he could’ve waited until it was his birthday where he could have his mandatory sugar.

his birthday.

if the world was set to end today, if a meteor was meant to wipe them and the rest of the world out…

then zayne wouldn’t see his 28th birthday.

the thought was a permanent damper on your mood as you continued to shop for snacks and ingredients for dinner.

it didn’t go unnoticed by him, even as the day dragged on and the two of you were in his home cooking up dinner. it was obvious you were distracted, bumbling about in his kitchen.

“your food’s burning.” he’d murmur as he took the spatula from your hand

“hey..! how can i show off my awesome cooking skills if you don’t let me cook..!” you couldn’t help but huff

“if we keep this up we’d be wasting our last moments cleaning up the kitchen.” he tried to poke fun at the situation but winced when he noticed how you just deflated even more

“i recently bought some new games if you’d like to see..?”

you perked up slightly at the mention of a distraction, giving him a weak smile.

“i’ll give them a look.”

as soon as you left the kitchen and made yourself comfortable on the soft plush of the carpet to look through his video game collection, you couldn’t help but regret leaving his side. perhaps with the impending feeling of doom you couldn’t help but feel clingy.

you looked through the games, some seeming familiar and others not so much. you’d hope looking through the collection would ease your mind or at the very least distract you but you found yourself missing him even more.

what if the meteor hit right this moment and you two were apart—

“you don’t recognize that game because the last time you played you fell asleep.”

his words snapped you from your thoughts as he emerged from the kitchen, carrying two plates. he set the steaming food onto the tabletop as he got comfortable on the couch.

“girl who saves the world is a new one, we can play that one after we eat.” he motioned for you to sit next to him

so that’s what you did, enjoying your (potentially last) meal in his company at peace save for a bit of small talk here and there before the two of you decided to pick up the new game. but even he could tell your typically competitive demeanor was dampened, if anything as time went on— you were more focused on the clock rather than the screen.

each tick of the clock was deafening to you as the uneasy feeling continued to pool in your stomach.

“you’re not exactly any good at this game, not to mention your lack of concentration.” his words pulled your head back up for air

caught off guard you couldn’t help but splutter out in protest, wanting to call him all sorts of ridiculous but you just… couldn’t.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you simply state

“so we’re lying as well?”

you couldn’t help but huff in defeat as you set your controller aside.

“and you’re giving up?”

you scrunch up your face at his words before taking his controller away as well.

“as if you were any better than me— i’m giving up for your sake..! you should just do the same!” you scoff before tossing the two controllers away

zayne could sense your agitation, or rather the anxious feeling that was gnawing at your stomach.

“i’d appreciate it if we avoided breaking my things—”

“how are you so calm?!” you cut him off, finally breaking the tension that was clearly in the air

you felt like your world was in shambles yet he didn’t bat an eye, you didn’t know if you were angry or jealous of his calm demeanor.

“whatever do you mean?”

“don’t be coy with me..!” you poked at his face

“the world’s literally gonna end in like what..? four? five minutes..? and you’re just… okay with it?” his lack of fear was mind boggling to you

he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as his hand enveloped your wrist to prevent any more poking.

“ah, so that’s what’s been bothering you?” he shook his head in amusement

“it’s not funny..! it’s like you’re not nervous in the slightest!” you protest like it wasn’t fair

“what’s there to be nervous about?” he couldn’t kick the hint of amusement in his tone

“we’ve had our dinner which was plenty filling, speaking of— we should probably clean up…”

his nonchalance was pushing you to your breaking point.

“so what? you’re just okay with this? we could literally die and you’re just worried about cleaning up? do you even care?” you couldn’t hide the frustration and snark in your tone before shrinking back, you didn’t even know why this was effecting you so much and why you were taking it out on him of all people. for all you know, it most likely wasn’t real.

but what if it was?

zayne’s expression couldn’t help but soften as he pulled you closer into his arms.

“so it’s like that hm?”

your throat tightens as you bury your head against his chest.

“it’s stupid… it’s probably not even real… but i’m scared zayne.” you grumble

he runs a hand through your hair in a soothing manner.

“okay, how about this…”

he pulled away slightly to reveal two pieces of the chocolate cake he snuck in the shopping cart earlier, you couldn’t help but tilt your head at him in confusion.

“we can make a wish.”

you immediately think of the birthday he won’t make it to.

“you make a wish… it’s your birthday that’s almost soon anyways.” you grumble burying your head back into his chest

“ah, so that is true.”

he began to ponder quietly.

“i don’t think i have any specific wishes, if anything… i’d say they all came true if i’m being honest.” he hums softly

you couldn’t help but look up at him, your nose scrunched in confusion.

“all we did was shop for groceries and cook… we didn’t even play video games all that much and i got on you for having sweets when you’re not supposed to.” you frown

“what? is that not exciting enough for you?” he couldn’t help but chuckle

“it’s not exciting for anyone! it’s just normal stuff..” you sulk a bit

his hand that was typically cold held a unusual warmth as he placed it on your cheek, guiding your eyes to his.

“sometimes the most mundane things become ever the more precious.” he chuckles softly

“frankly, if a meteor really did hit the earth today… i’d be the happiest man alive because i got to spend it with you.”

you couldn’t help but bury your head into his chest once more.

“don’t say stuff like that, you’re gonna make me cry..!” you huff out

he let out an airy laugh.

“well, we can’t have that— not when there’s just a mere few seconds before doomsday.”

your eyes widened as you immediately take his wrist into your hands to look at his watch, the seconds counting down.

you couldn’t help but panic as you frantically figure out what to do, but big warm hands keep your face in place.

“perhaps maybe there’s one more agent of normalcy we could have before our final moments.” he murmurs softly as he rests his forehead against yours

“i’m afraid.” you mumble out, you wanted to close your eyes but the warmth from his calmed you ever so slightly

“i’ve got you.” the weight of his words hushed the storm in your head before he pulled you close, his lips finding yours

the kiss was a light, fleeting moment— yet it felt like it lasted a million lifetimes.

then he pulled you tight to his chest.

——————————————

it had been almost two hours since the time the alleged meteor was supposed to hit.

zayne stayed awake as he continued to stroke the back of your head as you now laid on top of him against his chest. he didn’t have the heart to pull you from him after the first few minutes and even now, only feeling your grip loosen when he realized you had fallen asleep.

perhaps the stress of it all really did exhaust you.

he couldn’t help but let out a quiet humorous chuckle before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. you were warm, you were alive. he was alive.

and he’d love you every time like it was the last time.

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: omg does anyone else remember back in 2012 when they said december 12th was gonna be the end of the world? something to do with the mayan calendar ending or something I don’t remember but eight year old me was in SHAMBLES like even the news put fucking meteors in the weather forecast that day it was SICK omg like when i tell you i snitched on myself and then told everyone i loved them before hiding under a table… not my best moment tbh

anywhozies i wanted to capture that emotion because im obviously projecting LMAO, no but seriously you cannot speak to me about the world ending or like apocalyptic events like i’d become inconsolable

also… this is lowkey my contribution to zanye aka love of my life’s birthday! my favorite virgo i love him so much it’s not even funny—

yall school is starting up soon im so cooked but like live laugh love i guess

i’ll see you next time loves 🫶🏾

╰───┄ °❀

[janeyseymour]

Scrubs

Summary: Melissa's nonna is in the hospital and you just so happen to be the nurse assigned to the woman.

WC: ~3.2k

The last thing that Melissa Schemmenti expects when she picks up the phone that day is to hear her mother crying into the phone that Nonna had a stroke and was in the hospital. 

“Ma? What do you mean Nonna had a stroke?” Melissa rushes out as she’s grading papers in her classroom.

“She- she had a stroke, I don’t know!” the older Schemmenti hisses into the phone. “The point is, she’s in the hospital, and she’s asking for you- so you better get your ass down here and be here for her!”

“I-” Melissa glances up at the clock. She still has half an hour of her prep, and if she acts fast, she can pull together sub plans, arrange for coverage, and run out. “I’ll be there as soon as I sort everything out with my kids.”

“Please,” her mother whispers into the phone, and it breaks the teacher’s heart the way she can hear her mother falling apart inside.

“I’ll be there, Ma. Just give me a bit of time.”

As soon as Melissa hangs up with her mother, she’s dialing Ava.

“Melissa, what? I’m watching The Bachelor,” the principal answers the phone, clearly pissed at being interrupted.

“And I don’t give a shit,” the redhead retorts into the phone as she pulls up a document to start making her plan for the rest of the day. “I have to go. Family emergency. My kids are at music, I’m leaving plans on my desk, and I honestly don’t care if it goes well or not. I don’t even care who my sub is.”

At the note that she doesn’t care who her sub is, Ava is intrigued. “Girl, is everything okay?”

“No. My nonna is in the hospital for the first time in her life, my mom just called me in tears, and I have to go be there,” Melissa rushes out. “Please, just get me a sub.”

The desperate tone that the tough teacher uses sparks something within the principal, and she sits up a bit straighter and close out of the hulu tab she has open on her computer. “Go. I’ll handle it.”

“Thank you.” She hangs up after that, types at rapid speeds to finish her plans for the rest of the day, not even bothering to check it for any spelling or grammar errors, prints it, and runs out of her room. 

Before she heads out, she does stop down to her work wife’s room. Barbara is in the middle of teaching though, and it makes the other veteran teacher raise a brow at her friend unexpectedly dropping by.

“Miss Schemmenti, how can I help you? I am in the middle of a lesson.”

“Just letting you know that I’m running. There’s ziti in the fridge, and it’s yours,” the redhead states. She knocks once on the doorframe before sprinting down the hall and out to her car before Barbara can get a word out.

She’s at the hospital and in the building far faster than her mother had expected.

“Melissa, dear,” the woman’s mother runs to her. “You got here fast.”

“When you call telling me to get to the hospital for Nonna, I run a few lights,” Melissa shrugs as she embraces her mother. “How is she?”

“As feisty as ever,” the teacher’s mother groans. “Claiming that she doesn’t need to be here, they’re treating her all wrong, and she’s threatening to leave while hooked up to all of their machines. I’m sure she could use seeing you right now to calm her down.”

“Where is she?”

Melissa is led back to the room, and she can hear her grandmother before she can see her.

“Dammit to hell, I am fine! Would you quit poking me?” she’s yelling at the abundance of nurses in her room and personal space.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her. Then you crack a small smile “The doctor orders. I just have the pleasure of doing his dirty work.”

“Nonna,” the redhead sighs as she makes her way into the room. “The nurse is doing her job. They have to check your vitals and blood oxygen levels to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” the matriarch of the family grumbles, but she does lighten up just a little with her favorite granddaughter in the room now. Then, Melissa crosses her way over to the bed and takes her Nonna’s hand in her own. “You’re damned mother dragged me here.”

“Because you were having a stroke,” the mother exasperates. “You were having a stroke, Ma. And I wasn’t about to let you die on my watch.”

“God couldn’t take me, even if he wanted to,” Nonna states. “He ain’t taking me off this earth until I see my Melly fall in love again.”

At that little comment from the woman in the hospital bed, you have to let out a soft chuckle. This woman really was something.

“What’s so funny, Miss…” the grandmother squints to read your name off of your badge. “Y/N?”

“Nothing, ma’am,” you bite back your laughter. “You’re a fiery one, you know that, right?”

“You ain’t the first one to call me that,” the woman tells you. “Hey, you’re pretty. What do you think of my granddaughter?”

“Nonna!” Melissa reprimands.

You do look up though, temporarily pausing what you’re doing. The woman now sitting by the bed is absolutely stunning. Her hair is beautiful, her green eyes sparkle in a way that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before, and her body is… wow.

And when Melissa sees your face for the first time, her jaw almost drops. You’re… you’re beautiful. If she didn’t know you were a nurse, she would think you were a model- you belong on a magazine cover in her opinion. 

“Well?” the patient asks, rather impatiently.

You chuckle softly. “She’s a good granddaughter for getting here so quickly for you, Mrs. Schemmenti,” you tell her, and you do mean it.

“Yeah, yeah,” the woman waves you off, but that isn’t what she wants to hear. “What do you think of her though?”

Knowing you won’t get out of this one, you relent. “She’s very pretty.”

“You hear that, Annette?” the grandmother asks. “Y/N thinks our Melly is pretty! Melly, what do you think of Y/N?”

“Nonna, I ain’t-”

“What. Do. You. Think?” the woman grits out each of her words. “C’mon, just give me this one.”

“She’s very pretty, Nonna,” Melissa gives in to her Nonna’s pestering. “Now will you quit it?”

The grandmother just grins and shrugs. Then she winces as you begin to draw her blood.

“I know,” you say sympathetically. “But this is the last of the tests, ma’am, and then they do want to keep you for a few days to keep an eye on you.”

The grandmother sighs. “If you must. But enough of this ‘ma’am’ and ‘Mrs. Schemmenti’ shit. My name is Bea.”

“Okay, Bea,” you smile at her. “I’ll make a note of that.” If her sudden change in demeanor at the thought of staying in the hospital is odd to you, you don’t mention it. Neither do her family members- it’s abundantly clear that her being more open to the idea of staying is much easier than fighting her to stay.

“And don’t send in those other shit nurses,” she tells you. “If you’re around, I want you- the only woman here who isn’t trying to kill me, I swear.”

“Nobody is trying to kill you, Nonna,” Melissa rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “They are quite literally doing the opposite and keeping you alive.”

“I didn’t ask for that,” the grandmother huffs.

“You literally just told us that God can’t take you from this earth until I find love again!” Melissa groans. Then her eyes widen slightly at her realization. “Oh God, Ma! She’s gonna outlive us all!”

You just laugh as you quietly make your exit. 

“She’s really pretty,” Nonna tells Melissa quietly.

“I see you’re feeling well enough to meddle in my love life,” the redhead notes.

“I already told you, I don’t know why I’m here,” the grandmother retorts. “It was just a little hiccup, and your mother freaked out over it.”

Annette puts her head in her hands. “Ma, you were slurring your words all over the place, and the doc already told you you had a mini stroke.”

“Eh, what do they know?” Nonna rolls her eyes. She turns her attention back to her granddaughter. “You should ask her out. She’ll be in my room a lot, and you and I both know you’ll be here for the next few days keeping your ol’ nonna company.

“Nonna, I’m not gonna ask the nurse out,” the teacher laughs. “She’s probably in a relationship as it is- nobody that pretty is single.”

“You is,” Nonna points out.

Those green eyes glare at her grandmother. “I am not nearly as pretty as she is.”

“Don’t sell yourself short there, Melly. Youse quite the looker, if I do say so myself.” Melissa took after her grandmother in the best possible ways.

The next time you come into the room, it’s to bring Bea her lunch, and Melissa is still sitting there.

“Ah, there’s the pretty woman,” the patient chuckles from her place in bed.

“Hi Bea,” you chuckle as you set her tray up for her. “I see you’re feeling better.”

“I was feeling fine when I first got checked in,” Bea laughs. “Now, what do you say you take a load off and sit with me while I eat since my granddaughter over here doesn’t much feel like talking to her old sickly grandmother?”

That gets the redhead to look up from the papers that she’s grading. “Nonna, are you sick, or aren’t ya? Make up your mind.”

“Quiet, you,” the woman in bed guffaws loudly. “I’ll be whatever the hell I want to be. Melly’s too busy grading her kids’ papers to talk to her dear old grandmother, and Annette is out takin’ a smoke break, so what do you say?”

You glance down at your watch. Your supervisor had given you a bit of time to handle Bea, knowing she was more difficult, but with her being so complacent at her request to have you come in more than the other nurses, you have the time. “I have about fifteen minutes,” you tell her with a smile as you sit down in one of the chairs there for visitors.

“That’s more than enough time for you to get to know Melly!” Bea grins.

“Nonna, I’m grading,” the redhead sighs as she bites the marker cap between her teeth.

“What do you teach?” you ask, clearly interested. You weren’t lying when you said that Bea’s granddaughter was very pretty, and if you have the time, maybe you should get to know her.

“Second and third,” the teacher huffs out as she marks an answer wrong on one of her student’s tests. “Down at Abbott.”

“Two grades?” you ask her, surprised. You had never heard of one teacher with two different grades at the elementary level.

“Budget wasn’t big enough to hire another teacher, and I’m the best second grade teacher there, so they gave me an extra ten third graders,” Melissa sighs.

“I’m sure you do a great job,” you assure her with a soft and warm smile.

Bea finds her way into the conversation. “Melly is the best teacher there is. It’s always a blast to go in as a mystery reader and watch her do her thing. The kids love her, and they should. She ain’t nearly as tough as she plays.”

“You ain’t nearly as tough as you play either, Nonna,” the granddaughter snorts as she sets aside her papers. “Where d’you think I learned all my tricks from?”

“Your mother,” Bea narrows her eyes, but they sparkle with mischief.

You chat with the two of them for the remainder of your fifteen minute break before you sigh and stand. “I have to get back to my rounds, but it was lovely to chat with you both.” You make sure to look at both of them, but your eyes do linger on the stunning woman sitting in the stuffy and uncomfortable chair next to the bed. “Call if you need anything.”

It’s a bit later that you’re called back into the Schemmenti room. Melissa is asleep in the chair, and Annette is conveniently out for another smoke break.

“What’s goin’ on, Bea?” you ask the patient. “Trying to cause more trouble for me?”

“Not this time,” she chuckles as her eyes stay glued to the soap opera on the television. “Just wondering if it would be possible to get another blanket, dear.”

You nod, head into the hall and grab another knit blanket before heading back in. You go to drape it over the elderly woman, but she shakes her head and points to the redhead.

“For her,” Bea instructs. “She’s freezing, as much as she won’t admit it. I’ve been watching her shiver through her entire nap.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes playfully, but you do gently set the blanket overtop of the sleeping woman. 

When Melissa wakes, she’s warm. She remembers drifting off to sleep practically freezing as she pulled her Abbott Elementary sweatshirt as tightly to her body as she could.

“Good mornin’, sleepyhead,” Nonna chuckles.

“Where’d the blanket come from?” Melissa asks as she stretches just slightly, loving the way that her whole upper body cracks at the movement- it feels so good after being cramped in the chair for the day.

“I had Y/N bring it in for you,” the woman smiles. “Sweet girl. You should ask her out.”

“I ain’t lookin’ for any romance right now, Nonna,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “And ‘sides, I don’t even know if she’s gay.”

“She is,” the grandmother confirms. “We were chatting a bit earlier about her own love life when she came in to check my vitals.”

“How do you know?” Melissa raises a brow.

Nonna shrugs. “Mentioned something about an ex-girlfriend dumping her because she was always here… sounds like the perfect relationship for you- you workaholics seem to get along well, and you should know. You and Joe worked beautifully until he let himself go and wasn’t the driven man you thought you knew.”

“Don’t remind me of that time,” the granddaughter sighs.

“All I’m sayin’ is, you should ask her out,” Nonna grins and reaches a hand out. “She’s gorgeous, she’s a sweetheart, she has a good head on her shoulders… was telling me about how she works well with the little ones who come in and helps calm them down, so she’s good with kids. Everything you’re looking for.”

“I already told you, I ain’t lookin’,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

Nonna rolls her own green eyes. “You never want me to die,” she sighs dramatically.

The next few days, you spend quite a bit of time with the Schemmenti family because Bea practically refuses all of the other nurses on the clock. In that time, Melissa is almost always there. You find yourself looking forward to seeing her each day.

The day that Bea Schemmenti is discharged from the hospital, she pinches your cheeks and thanks you for your kindness and help over the last couple days- as much as she didn’t need it.

“Of course, Bea,” you chuckle as you shake her hand gently. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you and your family.”

Melissa is holding onto the wheelchair to push her grandmother out of the facility when the older woman turns around and smacks the redhead’s arm. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Don’t you got something you want to ask Y/N?” Been prompts.

The teacher sighs. “Do you want a free grandma?”

“That was not the question, and you know it- you pain in my ass!” Nonna smacks her granddaughter’s arm playfully as she’s wheeled out.

“Thanks for taking care of crazy lady,” Melissa calls over her shoulder.

Once Melissa gets her grandmother settled at home, Nonna sighs dramatically. “I thought you said you were going to ask her out!”

“I said I would think about it, Nonna.”

“And that to me, means that you were! Come on now Melly!”

“Well, you’re out of the hospital, so there’s no reason for me to go back there again,” the redhead tells her grandmother.

“I could have another stroke,” the older woman suggests with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

“That would be dramatic, even for you,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

Nonna shrugs. “Your reason to go back there could simply be to ask her out.”

“Will that really make you happy?” the redhead finally begins to crack. She grabs her keys and circles them around her finger a few times.

“I’ve been trying to get you to ask her out for the past three days!” Bea nods frantically. “C’mon now. Don’t make me wait any longer for grandkids!”

“Nobody said anything about grandkids, Nonna!” Melissa tells her grandmother as she makes her way out the door.

You’re just about to take your twenty minute break when you see familiar red hair standing at the desk.

“Hi, Melissa,” you smile at her warmly. “What’re you doin’ back here?”

The woman runs a hand through her gently curled hair. “Makin’ my nonna happy.”

“How so?”

Melissa runs a hand over her face. “God, I can’t believe I’m letting my grandmother pressure me into this, but… do you wanna go out with me for dinner one night? Or I can cook?”

Your eyes widen at her question. “What?”

“My nonna took a liking to you and has been trying to get me to ask you out for the last three days… I thought about it, and here I am. What do you say?”

“I have…” you look down at your watch. “seventeen minutes left of my break?”

Those green eyes sparkle. She takes your hand gently and leads you outside.

Those seventeen minutes are the best that you’ve had in quite some time. The timer on your phone goes off all too quickly, and you let out a disappointed huff as you stand from the curb just outside the hospital doors.  You dust yourself off before extending a hand out to help her up from the low stoop. She takes it with a smile.

“I don’t know about you,” Melissa tells you as she squeezes your hand. “But I would love to see you again… the next time you have a night off.”

“I have off tomorrow if that’s not too soon,” you laugh softly. You pull your phone out of your scrubs before handing it over.

“I’ll pick you up at six,” the redhead winks as she starts to make her way back to her car.

You watch her go before heading back into the hallway with the bright lights and smell of disinfectant. 

When Melissa comes home, Nonna looks at her knowingly. “So?”

“Shut it,” the redhead laughs as she makes her way into the kitchen to start on the next meal.

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