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callme-holly · 16 days

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Hello!! Maybe you could write headcannons with the gang that have a s/o who’s getting picked on? Thank you!!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐒/𝐎 𝐖𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐧

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I go back to school in like 2 days... yay, im so thrilled... Also I'm so sorry this took be so long to get to, my inbox is crazy right now but I swear I will get to everyone eventually !! Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 864 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mentions of being jumped and fighting, that's it

Darry Curtis -

If Darry found out you were getting picked on by someone, he would go mental

Like he’d be pissed

He’d instantly want to know who it is who’s giving you trouble

If it’s the socs bothering you you best believe he’s walking everywhere with you

His concern would go through the roof

Darry doesn’t strike me as a typically violent person but if whoever is bothering you decides to jump you/cause you any physical harm, you best believe he’s starting something

If you’re upset, please let him take care of you, it’ll help calm him down somewhat

Sodapop Curtis -

If Soda finds out someone’s giving you trouble, he’ll instantly feel guilty

He takes it as his job to look after you and by someone hurting you either physically or verbally, he can’t help but feel like he’s let you down a little

He’ll get Steve to track down whoever it is who’s picking on you; you won’t have to worry about them anymore <33

He’ll cuddle with you for ages to try and make you feel better (although it’s mainly to help reassure himself that you’re okay)

Much like Darry, Soda will walk you everywhere

This boy will not risk leaving your side and if anyone so much as looks your way, he’s giving them a dirty look and pulling you in the opposite direction

Ponyboy Curtis -

Pony will feel horrible and a little annoyed when you tell him you’re getting picked on

If it’s the socs giving you trouble, he’s mad

He’ll walk you to and from places and will try to comfort you best he can

If it’s kids from school, he’s got your back

Pony will defend your case no matter what and if someone so much as says anything about you, he’s shutting them down with some smart comment real fast

And if you get jumped? Oh boy, he feels awful

He knows what it’s like to get jumped first hand and he’d never wish it upon anyone

He’d get Dallas to have a “word” with whoever it is bothering you and chances are, you won’t see them again after that

Johnny Cade -

Johnny gets so upset when he hears that someone is picking on you but he also gets really angry

Like, you don’t deserve anything bad that comes to you and he will do anything to protect you

I feel like people really down-play his character like, come on ya’ll, he literally stabbed someone to protect his friend

If he sees someone giving you grief, he’s standing up for you

He wouldn’t start a fight, no, but he’s definitely let them know what's up

If you get jumped, he’d comfort you in a heartbeat <33

You two have got the whole gang backing you both up, so there really isn’t anything to worry about when you’re with Johnny

Dallas Winston -

Oh, Dallas…

When he finds out you’re being picked on, he’s asking for names, appearances, addresses - you name it, this boy wants it

He will fight for you and he will make sure that whoever it is that’s bothering you, learns their lesson

And if you get jumped? He’s arranging a rumble and dragging in the Shepard gang to back him up

He’d walk you everywhere, and I mean everywhere

If you think he’s leaving your side for even a second, you’ve got another thing coming

He’s got an arm around your waist, your shoulders, his hand in your back pocket and if anyone so much as talks to you, he’s standing behind you, glaring them down

He’s defending you in a heartbeat, no matter who the person is that's giving you grief

Needless to say, nobody messes with Dallas Winston’s girl, and he’s willing to let everyone know just that

Steve Randle

Much like Dallas, Steve is asking for names almost instantly

He will not hesitate to fight someone for you

He gets so defensive on your behalf and will become insanely protective over you

If someone has said or done something to you that really bothered you, he’s comforting you and going after the person in a heartbeat

You’re his number one priority and he wants you to be happy at all times

You think he’s leaving your side? Nope, no chance

He’s gonna be one step behind you at all times and if he catches anyone giving you problems, they’re in for a rough time

I’m telling you, he’s shooting everyone dirty ass looks

If someone so much as says “hello” to you, Steve will be coming up behind you

“this person giving you trouble, babe?”

He’s just looking out for you

Two-bit Mathews -

The second you tell Two-but you’re being picked on, he’s smothering you with love

He’s not letting you go at all

He doesn’t want anyone making you think you’re worth less than you are

Secretly, he’s super pissed that someone would even think to mess with you and if he sees them, he won’t hesitate to confront them

He’s taking you everywhere you need to go, no complaints <3

If you get jumped, he will not hesitate to help fix you up before tracking down whoever hurt you

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

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pupyuj · 8 months

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[cw: exhibitionism, g!p, humiliation, degradation, choking, dubcon, breeding]

to all those that liked the stalker!yujin thought.. this is for ya'll ✊️✊️ we are expanding the universe 😭😭😭 BUT UMMMMM HAPPY BIRTHDAY WONY???? 😍💞💞💞💞 it's a shame i don't have an actual fic for her special day...

hehe.. you've heard of voyeurism yujin now get ready for exhibitionism wonyoung 😏😏

wwhat if wony was like, your uber-rich two-faced friend who always has shit to say about you behind your back because you are, admittedly, a huge fucking whore but you keep her around bcs she's the only person who would be honest with you about everything and bcs she's hot, duh.

she keeps you with her for the same reason too, and bcs she wants to fuck you. again, duh.

wony has always had her eyes on you,, whenever you guys spend time together all she wants to do is drag you inside a bathroom stall and ruin you against the door :(( or maybe you guys are watching a movie,, sometimes she just wants to reach over and play w your pussy until midnight 😩😩 but her pride gets in the way and she settles with just glaring daggers at the back of your head, even though she so badly wants you begging for her cock 💔

so when she hears about this 'hot neighbor' of yours that fucked you in your bedroom in the party that you organized with wonyoung... yeah, she was pissed. like wdym you ditched her for some creepy loser??? her, jang wonyoung, your friend (kind of) who can fuck you so much better???

"i'm bored. i think i'll call her over when you go home. when are you going home, by the way?"

"what, are that much of a slut that you can't go a day without being filled up with dick? ...by her?" you were used to wonyoung doing a sudden 180 and turning into a mean bitch towards you for no reason, but something about this one felt different. bcs you actually felt threatened, and also bcs she was right in front of you. way too close.

"you could say that." you joked with a smile.

wonyoung chuckles mockingly. yeah, she was done hearing about this neighbor.

"allow me, then." and suddenly she was on top of you, one hand holding your wrist in a tight grip above your head and the other palming your pussy through your shorts,,, she's kissing you roughly, tasting her strawberry-flavored chapstick on your tongue and moaning when she softly nibbles on your bottom lip,,

before you knew it, your shorts and panties were off and wony was teasing your entrance with her fingers,,, not even putting her digits inside you, just rubbing them against your folds and drenching it with your slick :((( she was surprisingly strong too,, you couldn't pull yourself out of her grip no matter how hard you tried,, "don't resist me, (y/n). you know you want this." she's saying while kissing your neck :((

dudbfndkf finally seeing your friend's big dick when she pulled her skirt off ,,, as wrong as this was, you couldn't help but be turned on out of your mind,, and wonyoung noticed that look in your face,, a look she knows well bcs she has always watched you, and she knows when you wanna get fucked 😳😳 wony now pinning both of your hands down on the bed so you can't push her off when she climbs on top of you,, "see? this isn't so bad." she was grinning widely, finally getting what she deserved all this time!!

both of your wrists held up by wonyoung while she teased your entrance with her tip 🫣 not finding it in yourself to fight anymore bcs deep down you wanted to see this though :(( nearly screaming when she forces her length inside you, she was so big :((( "i know you've taken bigger than this, slut. don't fucking act out on me." and then she's moving in and out of you slowly, watching your face as you tried your hardest not to show her that you were enjoying this... but she knew,,, you were nothing more than wonyoung's slutty best friend, (y/n), you were always gonna enjoy being fucked, consensual or not :((

wony making you suck on her thumb while she thrusting faster 😵‍💫 she looked so pretty on top of you,, but then you remember just exactly how she went about this entire thing you get turned off 😭 "think that neighbor of yours is watching? hm?" wonyoung glances at the window across your own. "let's give her a show, yeah?" and you started panicking bcs what the fuck did she mean by that??? luckily, you didn't have to be confused for long... wony simply pulls out of you and dragged you towards your window, where she pushed you against the glass and put your entire naked body on display to whoever may be watching.

(the curtains were drawn in the window across from yours, but you knew she was watching. she always is.)

"i'm gonna fuck you so hard... show that creep the kind of girl you're really into." wony slams her dick inside you, and doesn't waste any more time before pulling out and doing it again. you couldn't believe the pain and pleasure that came with it,, "a-and we're a perfect match, aren't we, (y/n)?? down to the way we—oh, god—the way w-we get off to being seen like this... fuck. i knew your pussy would be fucking sweet." wonyoung brings down her hand to your ass, grinning at the way it made you push into her more. you didn't know it was possible for her to go any faster than she already was, but she did it anyway,,, both of your moans got louder, you even failed to say her name properly... if someone from outside were to listen closely, they would probably hear you... and that just contributed more to wonyoung's sick obsession with showing you off like you were some prized possession, one that belonged to her...

she really was going to show everybody.

"i don't wanna compare... but i will anyway," you feel wony's slender hand secure around your neck, choking you slightly. "you weren't this loud when you were with her... i doubt you felt half as good.. i know you, (y/n). that's why i can fuck you the best. that's why only i can fuck you like no one can." she pulls you back into her by your neck and kisses your cheek, once again glancing across, "don't you agree, baby?" she whispered, tightening her grip on you slowly.

😵‍💫 ugh, she made you feel so good that you couldn't bring yourself to hate what she was doing,, "i'm gonna come inside you, okay? fill you up more than she ever can..." she finally releases your throat from her grip, moving her hands to your waist and uses your cunt as she pleases,,, her grunting and groaning on your shoulder, so focused on trying to breed you, so lost in the way you clenched around her,, she just knew she had to fuck you stupid soon,,, she was never going to let you fall into the wrong hands just like that!!

her whining too omg :(( she might have a big cock and an even bigger ego but she's still such a baby,, practically hugging you while fucking you,, eyes shut tightly and mumbling whatever,,

"you're so p-perfect, (y/n)... i'm a fucking bitch but.. fuck, you're everything..."

"she can't steal you away... n-no.. not from me...! you're my best friend, she's nothing... right? a-ahh..."

"i'm gonna come...! i'm gonna breed your pussy f-full, (y/n)... (y/n)!!"

and as promised, wony comes hard 😵‍💫😵‍💫 feeling her warm seed seep into your womb, as well as hearing her cute moans, made you come too :((( and wony was so proud of herself,,, taking some of your cum that trickled down your thigh and tasting it from her fingers,, "you're delicious, (y/n)." she says while kissing your shoulder :((( she was sweet for a bit until she gets irritated again at the thought of your neighbour,, but at least she has shown you that she was a better fuck than her!

(truth to be told, it was debatable. but you weren't going to tell wonyoung that. not unless you want to get fucked until sunrise. you were going to save that mess for later 😉)

sdkhdsjncjd BUT IMAGINE IF SHE LIKE... GETS A LITTLE COMPETITIVE??? wony having just pulled out of you, sitting on your bed while you were laying down trying to catch your breath from everything that had just happened,,, your heart dropping to your stomach out of both excitement and fear when she suggests a crazy idea...

"you said she was good, right? call her over so we can see who really deserves to fuck you." aaaaackkkk 😩😩🤤

#ive smut #ive x reader #ive imagines #jang wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung imagines #wonyoung smut #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung imagines #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group smut

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floralcyanide · 21 days

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ

callum turner x fem!reader (nsfw)

In which a chance reconnection with your ex, Callum Turner, brings you to his hotel room- and he talks you through more than just your breakup.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, language, female anatomy described, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, mutual orgasm, love confessions

✣ word count: 2.7k

✣ author’s note: I wrote half of this weeks ago and just finished it. hope ya'll enjoy ((:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | the death of peace of mind - bad omens

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

The last thing on your mind today was running into your ex, Callum Turner, yet here you are.

He’s sitting adjacent to you in the script reading session for your new movie- and you had no idea of the cast until today, so seeing him was an absolute surprise. You try your best to remain neutral and keep yourself from looking at him, but you find yourself glancing up at him frequently. He looks great, of course, which makes it hard not to stare. You remind yourself Callum is an ex for a reason and focus on your turns to read the script. Callum had broken up with you because he had found himself unsure of his feelings and hadn’t elaborated further on it before leaving. So, you have struggled for a while with self-confidence and identity. It’s not entirely his fault, but not knowing how he felt for you during your relationship did something to you emotionally and mentally.

When the reading concluded, you tried your best to make a clean getaway, but Callum’s long strides and quick maneuvering skills got him to you in the hallway in record time. A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder in the sea of cast and crew exiting.

“Long time no see,” Callum flashes his brilliant smile at you once you turn to face him.

“Yeah,” you half-smile, “Sure has.”

Callum stares intently into your eyes for a few seconds longer than usual before he notices he hasn’t responded. He visibly shakes his head out of his mess of thoughts, “How have you been?”

“Could be better,” you shrug, “But I’ll be fine, always am.”

You keep your answers brief, with as little to go on as possible.

“Would you like to meet at my hotel for coffee later? There’s a cafe in the lobby that’s pretty good,” Callum scratches the back of his neck, “I just need to talk to you about something and would rather do it somewhere other than the corridor,” he laughs nervously.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, momentarily looking down at your feet before answering, “I don’t know, Callum. Is it really a good idea for us to talk outside the set?”

Callum clears his throat, “Well. I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually. See, I didn’t tell you everything when we broke up about how I felt, and I think you deserve to know, ‘s all.”

You sigh, “I suppose knowing wouldn’t hurt, even though it’s been a year already. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“I was afraid,” Callum admits, “I thought you hated me.”

You frown, “I don’t hate you, Callum. I promise.”

Callum brightens, “So you’ll meet me at the coffee shop? Tomorrow, maybe? Ten in the morning?”

“Fine,” you agree, “Tomorrow it is.”

Callum gives you the hotel’s address and leaves you in the hallway, turning as he walks away to wave goodbye.

You’re laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling. You still love Callum; don’t get yourself wrong. But if he didn’t feel the same, why entertain it? Besides, it seemed like he never really felt that way for you, and that’s why he dipped last year. At the same time, however, you don’t know that for sure because Callum didn’t tell you much. You guess you’ll find out more tomorrow. You roll over and will yourself to sleep.

You definitely need the caffeine upon waking the following day from tossing and turning all night. You get ready and take a cab from your apartment to the hotel Callum is staying at, nervous the entire ride there. When you arrive at the cafe, Callum is sitting on a couch by the window, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. He hopes you come and don’t change your mind.

“You made it!” Callum grins as you walk in, and he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek.

Your entire body burns at the contact, but you try your best to push your feelings aside, “Of course I did.”

The two of you order and return to the couch, where you hesitantly sit beside Callum, his thigh touching yours. You find it familiar and comforting but, at the same time, very nerve-wracking.

“So,” Callum turns to face you, “Do you mind me explaining everything? I promise you don’t owe me your time; I just feel you deserve to know why I left.”

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, “In fact, I’d feel better hearing it.”

“Alright,” Callum nods, “To be honest, I was scared. I had feelings for you I had never felt for anyone before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”

You focus on Callum’s words, carefully turning them over in your head, “I understand.”

“I loved you, you know,” Callum rubs his palms on his thighs, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, “And I fucked it up.”

You stare at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond.

“Still do, actually. Love you.”

Your ears begin to ring, and you almost don’t hear your names being called for your coffee orders until Callum stands up and walks over to retrieve them. He loved you? Still loves you, rather? Your facial expression- one of shock- is still apparent when Callum sits back down next to you and offers you your drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I just didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t have to return those feelings, by the way. I just needed to tell you that’s how I felt then and still feel now.”

“Despite leaving me a little lost a year ago, a part of me still loves you too, Cal. But I don’t know what to do with that.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything if that’s what you wish.”

“How do I know you really love me?” you blurt, shocking yourself with your words.

Callum puts a hand on your knee, “You can trust me, or I can prove it to you.”

Clutching your untouched drink in your hand, you wonder what he could mean by that.

“Prove it how?”

“You know a thing or two about that, I think,” Callum says suggestively, and your body burns like fire again.

You scoff, “I do. But how do I know you won’t just up and leave again after? Hmm?”

“I won’t,” Callum grabs your unoccupied hand, “I won’t this time, I promise. I don’t think I could leave you again.”

“Okay, then,” you admit defeat, “Show me just how much you really love me, Mr. Turner.”

Callum leads you to the elevator, where he presses the floor button and stands beside you, eyeing you up and down. When the doors close, he pulls you to his side as he finishes his coffee. You rest your head on his arm, sipping your own drink. Callum’s hand grips your waist, his touch hot even through your clothes. You're nearly shaking with nerves when you reach the top floor. The two of you had your go-arounds while together, of course. But it was never anything emotionally charged. You’re hoping Callum really does show you how much he loves you this time and doesn’t leave you hanging. He lets you follow him to his room, where he fumbles to unlock the door with his phone. Callum heads to the windows to close the drapes, his back muscles rippling under his shirt, much to your delight. He turns around and catches your gaze, maintaining eye contact with you as he returns to where you stand. Callum wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to him after you sit your coffee down. He is taller than you, so you have to look up at him when standing so close. A closed-lip smile spreads on his face as he takes in your features. Callum pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face before leaning in.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I do want this. Prove it to me.”

Callum captures your lips with his finally, and everything negative you felt about your relationship falls away. The comfort you’ve always found in him flows back into you as he guides his tongue along your bottom lip. Callum’s hands find your hair, where they tangle themselves in your locks for leverage. You allow him to explore your mouth softly as if it was his first time in uncharted territory. Your arms are around him, and your palms are settled on his back as he slowly moves the two of you over to the giant bed in the middle of the suite. You sit on the edge of it as Callum pulls his shirt off. He’s a little more muscular than the last time you saw him. You drink in his broad shoulders and toned chest, his thick biceps resting by your head as his fists dig into the mattress on either side of your legs. Callum is leaning over you, his demeanor shifting to something more dominant. He kisses you again before his hand moves to your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Go lay on the pillows and get ready for me.”

A surge of excitement rushes through your veins as you nod, moving backward to where the pillows sit at the top of the bed. You peel off your shirt and jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed onto the floor where your shoes are haphazardly lying. Callum climbs over you, taking in the sight of you. He lays beside you, patting his spread, underwear-clad thighs for you to sit. You oblige, his chest pressed to your back as you relax into his embrace. Callum’s large hands rub over your hips and legs, his skin hot against yours. He buries his nose into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up your throat. Callum then lightly traces your jaw with his tongue before he reaches your ear, nibbling the shell of it. His hands travel from your thighs to your hips, all the way up your sides, until they reach your covered breasts. He squeezes them as he sucks a mark behind your ear, out of sight. You squirm lightly in his lap, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin. Moving your hair out of the way from your ears, Callum continues his assault of bites on the back of your neck as his fingers slip underneath the cups of your bra. You hum as his fingers toy with your nipples, your head tossed back against his shoulder as he does so. This gives him more access to your neck, where he leaves open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You feel him grow hard against your tailbone as he twists and rubs your sensitive nubs, eliciting moans from you.

“I miss the way you say my name,” Callum whispers in your ear, letting one of his hands travel back down to your stomach, where he slips a hand beneath the band of your underwear, “Say it.”

“Callum,” you gasp as his fingers ghost your heat, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Just like that, doll,” Callum grins into your shoulder, where his lips press to your skin.

He helps you out of your underwear, pulling it down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. Callum tosses one of your legs over his thigh, giving him easier access to you. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra, throwing it off the side of the bed.

“Kind of unfair that I’m the only naked one,” you frown.

“Be patient, I want to play with you first,” Callum kisses your cheek.

He prods your lips open with two of his fingers, allowing you to suck them in. You lave your tongue around them, coating them with your spit enough for Callum to be satisfied, “Good girl,” he coos.

He then gently circles your clit with his two slicked fingers, and your hips buck involuntarily. He uses his other arm to press you firmly against him. Callum continues to play with the bundle of nerves before letting a finger test your entrance to gauge how wet you’ve become. He’s able to slip a finger inside without struggle, curling it against the familiar spot that makes you groan. As he adds another finger, you grip Callum’s arm as his fingertips massage your g spot.

“Callum, please,” you whine.

“Please, what?” Callum feels himself getting painfully harder against your back at the sounds you’re making, “Gotta use your words.”

“Show me how much you love me,” you beg, “Fuck me already.”

“Impatient, are we?” Callum smirks before removing his fingers from you and putting them in his mouth this time, relishing the wetness of your cunt, “God, the way you taste,” he moans.

Callum moves you over and off his lap so he can remove his pants and underwear before hovering over you. He braces himself on his arms on either side of your head, bringing his face to yours, “Are you sure you want this?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his face and looking him in the eye, “I want this.”

“Not that your begging wasn’t enough; I just needed to hear you say it,” he jokes, lining himself up to your entrance.

You playfully smack his chest before digging your nails into it as he pushes inside you slowly. You wrap an arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. Callum fully seats himself inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Callum focuses on breathing properly, as your clenching around him makes it hard not to pound you into the mattress. You wiggle your hips a little, letting him know he could move. Callum holds your hips up, moving your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, gaining a steady rhythm. The noises you let out just urge Callum to go faster and harder as he kisses along your thighs.

“I love you,” Callum says, biting down on your thigh and causing you to yelp, which makes him grin.

“I love you too,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his biceps for leverage.

“Do you believe me when I say it now?” Callum bites his lip, feeling your walls clenching harder around him.

You’re close, and he can feel it. He reaches between your bodies and presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it.

“Yes,” you say, almost illegible, “Fuck, I believe you, Cal.”

“Good,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.

Your fingernails dig into his muscles as you feel yourself about to let go, your stomach tightening into a knot. Callum feels his orgasm creeping up as he snaps his hips faster against your ass, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. Your orgasm hits suddenly, like a tsunami of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body shakes as Callum’s own climax surges through him, your convulsing cunt milking his cock. You’re both gasping for air as Callum lets your back fall against the bed as he pulls out, collapsing next to you.

“That was…”

“Amazing?” Callum turns his head to look at you,

“Yeah,” you’re quick to pull the duvet over you as your sweat cools on your skin, “Better than any time before, honestly.”

“Agreed,” Callum puts an arm behind his head to rest on, “I’m still sorry for not telling you how I felt. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”

“It’s okay now, Cal,” you roll over on your side, putting a hand on his chest, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Callum kisses the top of your head, “Okay. I won’t.”

The next day, when the script is read over again, tensions are definitely not as high. You don’t struggle as much with your lines, and being around Callum is easier. You’re glad it all worked out; maybe this time, it’ll last without confusion.

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner x reader smut #callum turner smut #callum turner fanfic #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fic #callum turner imagine #floralcyanide writes

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kurogane2512 · 4 months

Note

I know we are already in December but like...Hear me out-

NNN but is instead with ptn women

And I made sure to complete this before January~

PTN women during NNN

Type: Highly suggestive fluff (obvious mentions of sex and sexual acts)

Characters: Garofano, Cabernet, Chelsea, Langley, Eirene, Bai Yi, Chameleon

Can imagine any reader

Will win all the way through

CABERNET, LANGLEY

Yes, Cabernet has restraint. She has said it herself that she can wait for the ultimate taste to nurture and bloom. She can hold herself back for a month if you promise to compensate her well in the end; however, tempt her too much and you might just regret it. She won't come at you herself, but if you push her too much and are unable to hold back then she won't stop either.

Langley would make it a little challenge for you- "Prove your loyalty devotion to your boss by holding back for a month, rookie~". She will tease you the whole month and literally make you drip for her, all the while she's perfectly fine and unbothered. She doesn't have a high libido, but she loves seducing her rookie in all sorts of ways until you beg her to touch you. She knows you are going to be all over her the second the month ends.

Won't last more than 3 days

BAI YI, CHELSEA

Oh my god, these 2 horny mfs. Ahem, seriously tho neither of them can hold back their urges they are so needy. Chelsea may as well use some of her sugar mommy authority and make you obey to her needs, or she might just seduce you with sweet words and promises of pleasing you and honestly, who are you to deny? If your sugar mommy wants to be fucked, then you better be a good sugar baby and do what she wants~

Bai Yi is just..... no words, she just can't hold back her seductive teasing. She may have promised she'll comply and support you but this cheeky woman never had any intentions to let you win, she was already touchy before and now even more. She rubs her ass on your crotch with all innocent intentions, will press her boobs on your chest and snuggle up to you. And her voice? You'll melt in no time.

Will last halfway

EIRENE, GAROFANO

Eirene is needy, but she's too prideful to admit it. She'll take it as a competition to hold back, she finds it petty and thinks she's above something like NNN but if you challenge her then she takes it seriously- "Let's see who wins and there's a prize~" Oh, now she's fired up, she never runs from a competition. She thinks she is in control because she will seduce you a lot to make you lose; but truly, she's become extremely needy by the time it's halfway. But this is Eirene Campbell, the Quinn CEO, she won't ever admit defeat which is why she wants you to give in and fuck her senseless. You can edge her until she admits it but she'll keep denying and just degrade you for losing.

Garofano is possessive and wants to care for you, she doesn't care about her own needs but she can't see you suffer in any form. She is reluctant to do NNN but for you she agrees and she's genuinely sincere about it. She goes about her life like normal, but you are often putting yourself in danger and requiring her aid. She takes care of you like a mother, patching you up and gently kissing your wounds. While taking measurements for your shirts, her simple touches and brushes of her body make you tempted and she knows that well. She'll try to keep away but she can see the look in your eyes and can no longer deny you; after all, she cares too much for you. "You win, my love. I can't leave you when you need me~"

You think you won..... but did you really?

CHAMELEON

She deserves her own separate category ya'll know it. Chameleon so sly and has you wrapped around her finger. "No sex for a month? Hehe, as you wish, my darling~" She says with her usual smirk and the glint in her eyes, you know she's planning something. For the rest of the month, surprisingly nothing happens. She keeps a reasonable distance and doesn't tempt you in any way, makes no mentions and no suggestive touches. You feel like you passed the month in a breeze.... until certain memories slowly come back to you by the end.

In reality, Chameleon fucked you to her heart's content during the whole month and covered your memories of it to give you the satisfaction of winning. Every time she called you to her room, she had her fill of satifying you and herself- mostly herself. She made you fuck her as much as she wanted, and in the end she simply tampered with your mind and sent you your merry way to think you have been doing fine the whole month. Ah, you should have known this would happen....

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two-white-butterflies · 10 months

Text

do i wanna know? | m33

Description: Max Verstappen begins dating Tony Stark's daughter.

Pairing: max verstappen/nepo-baby!reader

y/n_stark: happy father's day, so much to be thankful for ✨ tagged: tony

192 comments 182,390 likes

tonystarkisasigma: #1 alpha male

maxverstappen1: Happy Father's Day - f1forzaferrari: ariana what r u doing here 💀

schecoperez: ¡Feliz Día del Padre! - ilikesmootheis19: BYEE WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE

danielricciardo: pls tell ur dad to give me a seat 😇 - y/n_stark: will do!

yukitsunoda0511: happy birthday

alonsohamiltonworld: friendly reminder that tony stark owns redbull and alpha tauri, that's why the drivers are kissing his @ss

Y/N STARK ALLEGEDLY DATING AN F1 DRIVER. by deuxmoi (podcast)

Deuxmoi: So allegedly a famous billionaire superhero nepo-baby is dating an F1 racer. My bets are on Y/N Stark, because her dad is the only superhero with kids. As for the F1 racer, we're not sure - some people in my dms say that it's Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc or Max Verstappen.

y/n_stark: first time in the redbull garage, totally in awe ✨

928 comments 128,349 likes

maxverstappen1: 💙🧡 #OrangeArmy

landonorris: aww missing you here - ynfans: YA'LL BE SAYING IT'S CHARLES, DANIEL AND MAX BUT IT'S OBVIOUSLY LANDO BYEE

tony: ❤️🔥

ynfans: a thread on how y/n stark is dating lando norris

Y/N was in England the same time Lando was in England. (picture proof: she's the one who took the photo)

2. Lando commented "aww missing you here" to her post 3. They would make a cute couple. I rest my case.

9 comments 100 likes

carlandoisbae: bitch bffr

grimes49r: "(shes the one who took the photo)" girl just kys 😭 they're obviously not dating

y/nfans: ok, if she's not dating lando then she's dating charles ya'll stfu because idgaf

avengersassembleconspirancy: I'm praying for the driver that manages to date iron-man's daughter.

10 comments 1,293 likes 12 retweets

peterparker1001: praying for max verstappen 😁 - ynismymommy: I CHECKED HIS PROFILE? HE INTERNS FOR TONY STARK, AND THEY'RE LIKE CLOSE CLOSE 😭 - ilovecaptainamerica: someone is getting fired 💀🤣

y/n_stark: since the cat is out of the basket 🤷🏻‍♀️💕 tagged: maxverstappen1

2911 comments 292,201 likes

maxverstappen1: 🧡💙

peterparker1001: really sorry mr verstappen 😕

starkfashion: how did ur dad react? - y/n_stark: we'll know in a few minutes 💗💕

tony: I feel sorry, - peonysandsuid: me too, she deserves better -- tony: for Max

maxverstappen1: Cheers to more laughter ✨ my lucky charm ❤️ tagged: y/n_stark, tony, redbullracing

819 comments 912,384 likes

carlandolover: bro tagged his entire family 🥶

verstappenleclercbonus: bro isn't scared of tony stark 🥶

y/n_stark: handsome and spectacular 💕

danielricciardo: aww cheers mate 🥂

lokiandthorareinnocent: bro said, i'm the boss now 🥶

AITA FOR ACCIDENTALLY EXPOSING MY BEST FRIEND'S RELATIONSHIP?

I, student, M have a friend - 23, F, and she's been in a relationship with a very famous guy for over a year now. She's very private and lowkey with all the things that she does. Now, instead of using my alternate account in commenting something - I used my real account and their relationship got exposed. She tells me that it's perfectly fine and that she doesn't blame me but I feel really bad. AITA?

3 upvotes

aragornofmirkwood: nta divorce the alternate account

benelopecruz: if she says that she doesn't blaim you, nta

maxverstappenisnomber1 max verstappen after pulling tony stark's daughter

starkfamily99 tony stark after a broke man *worth $60 million* dates his daughter

starkfamilyisworld how i imagine tony talking to max: "100 Million, stay away from my daughter"

y/n_stark: SMASH. WAIT WHAT WAS THE GAME?

193 comments 293,129 likes

y.nbutterflyworld: this is how i know tony stark is a good dad 😭 his daughter's type is SO far away from what he looks like. Sis has no daddy issues fr 😭

next part

#max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x female reader #f1 fics #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 fanfic

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katiexpunk · 6 months

Text

Dream of Me | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the dark of the night, temptation beckons. You make a silent vow to share your secret with Joel when he wakes tomorrow, but for now, you find yourself unable to resist this opportunity, much like the pulse between your thighs. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W/C: ~2.4K Warnings: Joel isn't aware he is fucking reader, so I'm labeling this as non-con, although I could also make a case that this is dub-con. Somnophilia. Unprotected P in V. Creampie. Sleeping bag sex. It’s basically PWP. There is an age gap, but it's not specified (make it your own). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. For immersability, the reader has no major physical descriptions/graphic is for vibe purposes only. A/N: April 2024 Update: ya'll ever go back and read some of your first stories and cringe? Yeah, well I did. I decided this one needed some love, so I've added in about an extra 1k. As a bonus surprise, I've continued this story. How will Joel react when he finds out what he's done? Part 2 is linked below. Masterlist | Notifications | Read on AO3

In the shadowed quiet of the night, a soft moan threads through the stillness, stirring you from the depths of sleep. It's a moment suspended in time, where the fog of unconsciousness slowly lifts, allowing you to piece together the unexpected reality you've found yourself in.

Pressed closely against you is Joel, his presence unmistakable. The breadth of his frame envelopes your back, his thick arms encircling your waist. You're both lying on your side, entwined in a way that suggests intimacy, yet underlined with a hint of awkwardness that comes from unintended closeness.

You and Joel have been sharing a sleeping bag for the past couple of weeks since yours decided to grow legs and walk off to who the fuck knows where.

It’s mid-April, and while your skin is sun warm during the day, the nights are a different story. Once the sun dips below the horizon and the embers of the fire fade, you crave a warmth only he can seem to provide. Skin on skin, bodies pinned together under the nylon.

If you had it your way, you’d go to sleep in nothing but your bra and underwear, but Joel was quick to squash that idea.

“You’re asking for trouble, sweetheart.”

“Oh come on, Joel. It’s no different than a swimsuit.”

“The fuck it is, it’s bad enough that we have to share a bag, can’t have you half-naked on top of it.”

“Fine,” you sigh.

“Fine.” He thought that was the end of it, until —

“Can you at least take off your jeans? They’re dirty.”

It took some negotiation on that one, but he finally came around. Joel knows that you have a crush on him, but he’s never acted on it and swears to himself that he never will. You deserve more, better, anything but the man he’s become. But god, you make it fucking hard. Hard for him to behave, hard for him to keep his hands to himself, but above all, you just make him hard.

He’s usually good about finding time, even if it’s just minutes, to take care of himself. But it’s been over a week, and the war he rages with his cock every night is one he’s starting to lose. Each sunset ushers in another round of relentless conflict, drawing him closer and closer to the edge of temptation.

In the day it’s easy to lock away the thoughts of all the things he’d like to do to you under lock and key in his mind, to focus on the tasks at hand, to focus on keeping you safe, keeping you alive.

And it works, because you think all he sees you as is something delicate and fragile, innocent, but his cock hard at your back has you feeling anything but.

His fingers dig into the meat of your hips and clench around your pelvis. He’s not putting much weight into it, but his hold is still strong enough to leave imprints on your skin.

A deep groan vibrates through his chest, followed by a needy whine that goes straight to your core. Joel moves closer like he’s trying to absorb you into his body. His weight and the jerky movements of his hips are enough to force your body to roll over onto your belly. His hips start grinding hard against your ass like he’s trying to get deeper, closer.

Another breathy moan weaves itself between a snore and a sentence murmured in half-sleep, your name lingering on the edge of coherence.

Is this really happening right now? You pinch yourself just to be sure.

Joel nuzzles closer to your neck, burying his face in your hair. You feel his breath hot on your back, the warmth of his lips gently parted on your skin. He nibbles at your shoulder, causing a sharp twinge of pain to run through you, straight to your pussy. Your walls clench harder around nothing, and your inner thighs start to feel sticky from your arousal.

He feels so strong lying on top of you like this, just taking whatever pleasure he can from you. You know this is wrong, but it excites you way more than it should, to be used like this without him even knowing. You’re sure that he would be horrified if he knew how he was treating you right now. The thought makes you even wetter.

“Fuck,” you moan, not loud enough to wake him.

It would be so easy to just spread your legs a tiny bit, to reach down and move your panties to the side, to drag the fabric of his underwear down and let him have his way with you.

But that would be wrong, stupid, even.

This is wrong.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing and you know he’ll hate himself for it in the morning, but fuck, you want him so much. Even if he’s not consciously aware of what he’s doing, you can’t help but feel like he wants it to.

The opportunity to feel him like this might never arise again.

The protective, in-control you know isn’t home right now, instead the touch-starved, needy dark passenger you know lives within him has come out to play, and you want so badly to be wrecked by him.

The risks outweigh the benefits, but fuck it —

You slowly shimmy and drag the thin fabric of your panties down to your thighs. If he wakes up you could always play the innocent, pretend that he did all this while you were still sleeping, but you already know you wouldn’t be able to lie to him like that; even if you did, he’d see right through it.

It’s one thing doing this, taking advantage of Joel’s wet dream to satisfy yourself, but you will not lie to him about it. You’ll tell him the truth when he wakes up. You will.

You think you’re going to have to drag Joel’s underwear down, but much to your surprise, you realize he’s wearing the kind with the entrance at the front. Thank fuck for that.

As he continues to grind against you, you reach your hand back and in through the slip in the fabric and feel the soft silk of his skin, the coarse hair that rests at the base of him. You can’t see it, but from the feel of it, you can tell he’s big. So much so that you wonder if he’ll even fit through the opening of the fabric. It takes some doing, but you manage to make it work. You position his cock at a good angle, and feel his precum, all warm and sticky, beading at the tip of him.

It’s a dizzying feeling, to feel his bare cock pressed up against you, so desperate to find a home inside your warm cunt.

You pause, listening for any sign that he’s going to wake at the new sensation. Once you’re confident he’s still in dreamland, you spread your legs and adjust your hips under him, lining his cock up just right with your dripping folds.

The head of his cock only barely manages to slip past your outer lips, searching for that place where the resistance will give in and be replaced with pleasure.

Suddenly it all feels too real, and you have a brief moment of reconsideration. Just as you’re about to find a way to shy away from under him and slip your underwear back on, a deep groan reverberates through his chest. It’s throaty and needy, like his body can sense your hesitation, and is doing everything in its power to convince you to give in.

You can’t help it. You just can’t stop yourself. The sounds he’s making, the way he’s holding onto you like his life depends on it, makes it impossible to deny him, and yourself, much longer.

“Please don’t wake up Joel, please don’t wake up…” you silently whisper before your legs slide to the edges of the sleeping bag, permitting just enough space for you to fully bare your dripping cunt to him.

The new position allows Joel’s hips to move closer to yours and the mushroom tip of his cock slides right up against your wet and waiting hole. It presses in about an inch before he pulls back with a whine. He thrusts a few more times, but every time he never sinks deeper than the first inch.

You gently bow your back, tilting your hips up ever so slightly, and reach your hand back, guiding him in. You know it won’t be hard for him to glide in with how wet you are, all he needs is to find the right position. Using your fingers, you press on the side of his cock, and a second later he’s bottoming out with a quick snap of his hips.

“Joel, Fuck —” you moan, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. The stretch of him is intense. A moan escapes your lips, and you know you’re not going to get a moment to adjust to his size. If he was awake, he might be a bit more considerate, give you a second to accommodate the thickness of him, but he’s not. You muffle your sounds by biting into the flesh on your forearm, willing the subtle taste of salt and dirt to distract you from the dull burn you feel below.

The jerky grinding snaps of his hips return at full force. There’s no finesse to the way he fucks you, no gentleness or soft caresses – he’s using you for his pleasure, blissfully unaware of the bruises he littering all over your shoulders and hips.

Your only function to him right now is to be a tool for his pleasure, to be a hole for him, and you couldn’t be more turned on by the thought, even if you tried.

“Yes Joel, fuck, fuck me like you mean it,” you encourage him softly.

You know he can’t hear you, but the words come naturally, making you feel powerful; like you’ve played some role in getting him to this point. He’s always in control, always on, never letting anything slip. And thank god he is, it’s a necessity of survival, a skill you don’t have. But right now you’re relishing in the fact that you feel like you’ve gotten him to be like this, that you’re the one calling the shots for once.

You’re not just being used, you’re allowing him to use you.

It’s not going to last long. You know that.

Sometimes you hear him jacking off next to you in the middle of the night, but god knows how long it’s been since he’s had the warmth of a pussy.

You start to feel his body tremble and tense. If he were awake right now, you’d hope he’d be cursing your name and trying to hold on until you had come, but he doesn’t. He never slows down and never loosens his grip on you, he just continues to take and take and take.

He slams himself into you for a final time, flooding milky white ropes of his cum inside your walls. He’s deep, every inch of him is inside of you, and the thought of him so deep, holding all of his cum inside of you, causes the coil in your belly to tighten even more. When he’s done he doesn’t roll off you, instead, he goes limp, almost like he’s fallen further into his sleep state.

His cock doesn’t disappear instantly either and that’s what makes you silently curse again. You didn’t get to finish and your pussy is clenching around him desperately. God, you want so badly to come.

His hips still grind against your ass with the aftershocks of his pleasure, providing small pangs of arousal that keep you on the edge, but not enough to get you to where you so desperately want to go. His body is dead weight against you.

Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe how you are feeling. And to top of off, you’re lightheaded from the lack of oxygen your lungs can take in, and your heart is thrumming in your chest.

You’re so close. So fucking close.

You manage to shift just enough for your hand to find a way to your dripping pussy. You press a couple of fingers to your clit and tilt your hips up, making Joel’s softening, but still semi-hard cock slide deeper into you.

You begin the slow climb towards the cliff of your orgasm, slowly fucking yourself on Joel’s cock and rubbing your clit. It doesn’t feel as great as when he was thrusting into you, but his cum trapped inside you makes the slide of his cock so much more pleasurable against your g-spot. A little bit of him dribbles out with each thoughtless thrust, adding to the wetness that makes your fingers circle easily over your aching bud.

Your mouth once again finds your forearm as you get closer, the perfect gag to muffle your sweet whimpers. Your walls clench tighter around Joel, making him whimper from overstimulation, but you don’t care. He got his, and now it’s your turn.

You work tight circles on your clit and you finally feel the pressure build to a point that it has to release. Your orgasm blossoms inside of you, and you let the undertow of pleasure lull you deeper into the ground, melting under the weight of him.

Seconds turn to minutes, and you feel sleep make a slow creep up into your fucked out muscles. The warmth of Joel still on top of you, the pressure of his body on yours, and his cum slowly dripping out of you, lulls you nearly to sleep.

You’ll tell him tomorrow, you think to yourself, moments before giving in and letting your heavy eyelids fall closed.

But you have a feeling he’ll figure it out for himself.

PART 2

Tagging some authors/moots who have inspired me through your writing or sweet disposition this week, thanks for giving me the horny boost I needed to get some stuff out. @toxicanonymity @josephquinnswhore @sydneyinacoma @strang3lov3 @endlessthxxghts @cavillscurls @fettuccin-e

To be notified when I post fics, follow @katiexpunkupdates

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller tlou #somno k!nk #sleeping bag #joel miller fanfic #pedro stories #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #we all love a good one sleeping bag trope #pedrohub

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lavendercharm · 2 months

Text

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

A/N:

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Warnings: Strong Language

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—----------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t even get the chance to lie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Barb, she-” Melissa starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-------

A/N:

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

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

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #Spotify

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hyperfixiation-station · 3 months

Note

Sorry, I meant Ghost in a fight/discussion with reader 😭 Still, I did love your take

CW: Fighting, emotional abuse, light swearing I am so sorry anon 😭😭 I am literally the dumbest person to have ever existed lmaooo Also apologies for length, I am moving and wanted to get you something cause I'm not sure when I'll be able to post again. To whoever asked, I am making a pt.2 so send me an ask if you want to be notified :)

As always, no beta, please lmk of any mistakes!!

A lot of ‘fights’ you guys have are one sided, where you concede quickly, not wanting to argue, and he just keeps going and going. He, like a lot of ND’s, gets a thrill from fighting, and he will pick fights about everything. You just disagree once with what he says and he goes off.

Fem!Reader: Anytime he is upset/angry with you/thinks you are disrespecting or ignoring him, he'll call you 'woman'.

"I'm still talking woman!" "Watch your mouth woman" "Woman I am talking!"

He does not love bomb. He does not come after arguing with you with flowers and chocolates and showering you with love to make up for it.

Don’t get me wrong, this man does bring you flowers, just not to make you feel better after a fight. He’ll get you flowers for valentines day and your birthday and your anniversary and any time he feels like you deserve flowers, but he does not give them to you after fights.

And you guys don’t fight too often. At least, not fights where he feels bad and has lingering guilt. Very rarely will he realize(or at least admit) That he was wrong, especially not in front of your kids, if you guys have them. However, if he does realize and admit he is wrong(typically after you sleep in a different room or don’t talk to him except for the bare minimum) he will apologize in private.

One very memorable fight for you was back in the early days of your relationship, just after you had started living together. He had left his gear just piled on the front table, and you had folded it and moved it to the bedroom so that it wasn’t cluttering up the front room. He came home and, well, freaked. He screamed at you, punched a hole through a door, and you still remember him telling you ‘Go to hell then woman” when you said you had just wanted the space to be clear.

He gets pissed off about the stupidest stuff. Your guy's 10-year-old daughter bought a Stanley? He’s mocking him for the next 3 weeks about wanting to be popular. Your teenage-daughter wears ripped jeans to a concert? He’s telling everyone about how she must have bought them at half-price since so much cloth is missing.

One interesting thing is that he respects fighting back, to an extent. You watched in borderline horror as your eldest got into a screaming match with him that lasted hours and ended with no victor. And yet, since that day, you’ve never seen Simon scream at them again.

Hearing this, he sounds toxic, yeah? And he is, to an extent. But you stay with him because he knows he has issues, and he actively works on bettering himself. You’ve been with him for a decade now, and you can see so many differences in the way that he acts. He no longer screams and throws things and punches holes in the walls. He is more willing to admit when he is wrong, hell, there's even been a few times when he’s said sorry in front of your kids.

You understand his trauma, you understand why he responds and acts the way he does, and most importantly He does too, and he is working on bettering himself for his family, because he loves you, and he hates that his explosive reactions hurt you and your kids.

I am going to make a pt. 2 to this so that I can go more in depth, but again, I’m moving and not sure when I will be able to post again so I wanted to at least give you something. lmk what ya'll think :)) ALSO: If you think I am mischaracterizing Ghost please let me know, and I will either explain my reasonings or you will change how I think of him. Either way, I would like to know yalls thoughts so please do not hesitate to say something

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #no beta we die like men #cod #cod x reader #ghost fanfiction #angst #ghost headcanons #simon riley x reader #he has anger issues okay #sorry again lol

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darlingofvalyria · 7 months

Text

❝You don't think I can please you?❞

part 05 | we're really in it now, darling

chapter summary:

[ Everything comes ahead at a hedge maze because. . . hedge maze. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,517 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader, aemond x alys rivers

contains— angst, a lil smutty but no full whorishness, ya'll good - i should really put idiots in love as a tag shouldn't i - nsfw: grinding + some sexy, sexy second base lmao - no kingslayers, no rogues, no betas.

a/n— i hope ya'll forgive me. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

You don't really know what you were expecting come Sunday. Once you started to 'ehh' 'hmmm' and 'maybe's your way through random moments with Helaena after the radio silence from Aemond— your best friend put her foot down.

"Fuck him," Helaena grumbled. "You've been going to Sunday dinners before he was even born, you are not backing down now."

You snorted. "That's wildly inaccurate."

"Point still stands. Fuck. Him. You deserve my mother's tiramisu cake. He doesn't get to take that from you." Her eyes widen as if trying to instil her determination into your system via eye contact. "You are not going to let him take that from you."

You nodded. That's at least a point to pro you can stand by. Though she can't cook to save her life— Alicent's words, not yours — the woman sure can bake. It became therapeutic for her, she once said. How measuring ingredients and kneading dough to patiently folding cream after another kept her mind quiet and her hands busy.

"My faith strongly does not advise rage shooting, you know?" Alicent once hummed.

"Did you mean 'range' shooting?"

"Oh?" she nodded absentmindedly, smiling. "Yes, that too."

"That's true," you mused. Tiramisu cake was her mother's specialty. Every Sunday, she has all attendees pack up at least one cake per person and you and Hel usually stave off bites throughout the week until the next Sunday comes. "I deserve some tiramisu cake, gods be damned it."

"Plus, if you come with me, we'll get two cakes to take home instead of one." She wagged her finger. "We count as two separate entities with one fridge, it's our greatest privilege."

"Daeron calls it preferential treatment."

"I am her only daughter, of course I get preferential treatment."

"As you should, bestie."

Even when you've stopped struggling with choosing if you were going or not, your mind is never faraway from thinking about Aemond. You wonder if he's finally gotten back with Alys was a bad train of thought, while an even worse train of thought is how soft his lips were and how he holds your hair to pull you close when his tongue glides across your bottom lip.

You blink, shaken from the thought. Bad. Bad brain. Stop it.

And repeat. At this point, it was safer to think about Alys and Aemond.

According to previous cycles, by this point they'd be at the height of their newly blossomed relationship— all sweet kisses and heated looks, unable to stop touching each other much less act a little bit better when they're trying to leave a group function to fuck their brains out — so you wouldn't be surprised to see come Sunday that he arrives with Alys— both of them tall, gorgeous with just enough undertone of smirky, smarmy tension that would make you want to stab your own eye out — pointedly ignoring you or whatever happened between you and him.

It hurt to think about sure, but what else did you think was going to happen?

That call made a space the size of a puddle that turned into a lake, welled deep with unresolved feelings and untouched topics. More questions than answers, drawing lines both of you were too scared to tug and see.

It's big enough to notice, and both stubborn enough not to anything about it.

You tried. Well, you almost did. In the weird hours of the day when your brain and body are more physically disjointed so rationality gives way to adrenaline. Most of the time, this is during working hours. You, checking your phone, running around his profile with your thumb a few times, biting your lip as your mind blanks and your body fights to call him. Or leave a message.

Before your mind and body reconnects and you fling your phone as far away from you as possible.

It's weird. You've never fought with Aemond before. If this was considered fighting. You've been disappointed in him, gotten angry and annoyed with him, but someone always, always offers an olive branch.

Every time you think about that call, you close up, your annoyance flares, and you shove your phone away.

In your amicable defense, this was primarily his problem. You weren't truly dating. He made it clear every choice he was making was en toward the agreed conditions were of making his ex jealous enough to take him back, yada yada yada.

Even if, possibly, you wanted more, he made no actual steps to make it known that he was considering it too.

Funny stares on your lips don't count. The only sabbatical from sexual adventures Aemond got were the breakup round with Alys, and as established before, they got it on pretty frequently.

Another thought bubble about Aemond's lips pops in your head, the mint from his toothpaste and the coffee from his black with no sugar, no milk, the way he seemed to suckle on your sighs—

Gods. Damn. It.

Focus.

That last call?

You're a grown ass woman. You're allowed to do whatever you want with whomever you want, and you're not going to make Aemond Targaryen's steely silence of what— disappointment? Of your choices? Of your choice in Cregan Stark and Cregan Stark Jr? Of what you were doing? Sure he was faithful to the Seven, a good old religious boy raised by his momma, but it doesn't make him a saint. Just because he's clinging to the vestiges of first love thinking it could very well be his last doesn't make him holy, or warrant enough to judge you for getting your little you some good dick.

Life is hard. Good dick is hard to come by!

So. Yeah. Days leading up to Sunday was radio silence and way too many thoughts circling your head like vultures, eating away at logic and rationality, and stubbornly still, you refused to make contact. If it's not out of pride, it's out of hurt.

Because he could apologise, but Aemond wasn't known for his apologies.

But then you remembered the flowers, the tulips, and now you just felt sad. Moping, getting annoyed, and trying to get through work without breaking your phone speeds the week in a blur.

Come Sunday afternoon, Helaena was coming to pick you up from her shift at the vet— the beauty of having a vet bff is the Russian roulette of pictures; you never know if you're about to get cuddly new patients with big, sad eyes and pouty snouts or her newest c-section win without any attempts of a blur — so you could get to her mother's house together, you decided to go for the nines with your outfit.

A sweet summer dress later, some gold gladiator sandals half off from your favourite but largely can't afford shoe boutique that you swear you were always going to wear to make up for the insane price (thank the gods Alicent didn't have a no shoe policy because it takes fifteen minutes to get them on and you cannot be on the floor, on her house, with Aemond around, rolling around like a hot potato on the entry way trying to get a fucking shoe on), dusted and prepped in you're fancier version of makeup, and was just finishing off your hair— using the good mousse whilst blaring Disney epics — when knocking came.

You freeze.

On one hand, it could just be Helaena, forgetting her keys again somewhere as she had done so numerous times before, but there hadn't been a slew of expletives or her impression of a cool, clinical voice saying, ''Tis I, the Stranger, have come for thee soul! Open up I gotta pee, woman!' so you got a pretty good guess on the alternative, sending your heart into a stutter and get smacked with a well deep of yearning.

You miss Aemond. You miss hanging out with him, even just having him on video call whilst you prepped a late dinner and he's working out his thesis defense, too late for either of you, but catching another's eye in the tiny phone and sharing a comforted grin. You miss being called my lady in a language that means so much to him, miss bumping shoulders and smelling his crisp scent of cologne and laundry.

Miss his lips, his very soft, very delicious lips—

"Gods damnit, woman, keep it together," you murmur to yourself. Another series of knocks, ever patient, and you're moved by body not mind as breathless giddiness yanks the door open—

Only to fall flat.

"Oh." You can't hide your disappointment at the curly blond with the smirk for centuries. "Aegon. I didn't know it was you."

"Yes, the expressive disappointment in your eyes could bring a man on the edge to his downfall, I must say," he jokes hoarsely, a little hurt. "Not even a hi Aeg. I've missed you Aeg, or— hey Aeg! You look good enough to eat!"

It's Aegon. Not Aemond. Or Helaena. Helaena and Aemond's older brother, Aegon. Party rocking, cocaine hiding, sweat and someone's lipstick smelling Aegon. You like him despite his whorishness because he's funny, because he's sweet when he wants to be, and he always, always gets you a funny mug when he comes back from wherever he came from.

You blink a couple of times, laughing awkwardly as you give him a quick hug. He still smells the same, with the lightest tint of sun in him from his days at the beach not so long ago no doubt.

"Sorry, sorry. Hi Aeg, I've missed you Aeg, and yes, you do look good enough to eat, Aeg."

He hugs back tighter, smothering you in the denim jacket he's wearing and the curly edge of his white blond hair. He's got a new piercing and smells of new perfume.

"So do you, princess," he says as you step back and he appraises you appreciatively. "Those shoes can step on me any time."

"I will never."

"You will never," he says chirpily, moving back with a teasing grin. "Let me guess, you were waiting for my uglier version to come by and got too overwhelmed by the majesticness of me."

'"Majesticness isn't even a word." You snort. "And Aemond is not your uglier version, you don't look that alike."

He raises an eyebrow as you blink. Fuck. "Dear me oh my, I meant Helaena, babe. When did Aemond get into the mix?"

You shove his shoulder, huffing as you pick up your keys and bag, forcing him to step back as you lock the apartment, trying to give yourself grace from his burning, teasing stare. "As if Helaena didn't tell you." You finally turn to him, lips pursed at his faux innocent pout. "Helaena tells you everything."

"She might have mentioned a thing or two about a thing or two." He bumps your hip as you both get into the elevator. "Imagine my surprise when Lae-lae tells me of a wondrous development between her two favourite people that involved a breakup, some gift-giving shenanigans, and kissing." He gasps dramatically as you groaned. "I leave for what— a month or two and suddenly you and Aemond are making out? Babe, I must say, you're doing the tongue tango with the wrong brother."

"He's not the wrong brother, also the tongue tango? Really?" you snap suddenly. The wrong brother comments always irk you because you understand that it's a sensitive issue to Aemond, as well as Aegon himself.

But it's a bait you realise too late because Aegon Targaryen enjoys hauling truths from people in steps and tricks, uncaring if he takes a stab or two to get there as you meet his gaze against the reflective wall, positively smirking.

"Really now?"

"Why are you even picking me up? I thought you were in Oldtown."

"Already sorted. Hel wanted to make sure you get there in time, she's going to be late... After all your earlier ride backed out didn't he?"

Your mouth pursed, annoyance prickling at your edges as the elevator pulled into the lobby. "I don't want to talk about it, where's your car?"

He whistles, languid and all the time in the world on his shoulders with just the hint of smug. "It's a thirty minute ride, babe, you're going to spill."

You shoot him a withering glare. "Not if I have say in it." For emphasis, you yank his door and slam it. Fuck his new Maserati.

"Mature!"

Thirty minutes is more than ample time for Aegon Targaryen to weed his way into your brain like the worst case of earworm (like a stupid ass commercial jingle that just. Won't. Stop) that by the time you reach his mother's, you were ranting.

"—like I get it, saying I'm going out with another guy to get some good dick after confirming that we're going to your mother's for Sunday as a date is bad, but we're not really dating! He said so himself! He pressed the issue of it not being a real thing! And he didn't attempt any—"

"— any communication at all," Aegon echoes, stretching his legs as he stood. "Not a sorry or anything."

"Anything!" you bolster, slamming his door again that is less about him and more about the aggressiveness. "I know that he's bad at apologising, or facing things that are hard, choosing to stew in it and act all shitty to people, I just... I thought he'd at least tell me. Doesn't that warrant our friendship?"

"Hm. Ever think that's precisely why he struggles with you?"

"What does that even mean?"

"That he cares about you, so he struggles more with expressing himself."

You turn to him, cocking your head. "When did you get so wise, oh Gandalf?"

"A Seven focused rehab facility can do that to you," he muses wistfully. "There was this nun that says verses when she orgasms."

You make a face. "Love the fun fact."

"You're welcome. But back to point, isn't the issue also the fact that you never tried to make contact with him either?"

"Well. Yeah. Because..."

Aegon squints at you sympathetically. "Because you're scared of rocking the boat because of how much you like him?"

"Not, well," you hesitate. "Not like that precisely..."

"How much you're capable of liking him?" Aegon smiles wryly. "You had a crush on him, I remembered that at least. When Hel first introduced you to him, you couldn't stop teasing him until he lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew you liked him since then. You called him pretty half the time, and I started to realise it was less about his reaction but how you actually see him, and speaking as the naturally cherub, pretty boy of the family, I find this highly, highly offensive."

You pinch his cheeks, wounding your arm over his shoulder. Aegon was built like a linebacker with less muscles that aren't postern, with wide shoulders and a strong body that's too easy to lean against.

"You're pretty too, Aeg," you coo. "But he's just..."

"If you say ethereal, I will vomit right in my mother's petunias." He makes a face. "How about this. The problem is that you think Aemond doesn't like you back."

You frown at him. "I know Aemond doesn't like me back."

"Oh, sweetie," Aegon coos, sympathy and pity swirling in his smug, smug smile. "I'm so glad you're pretty."

You pinch his sides until he squirms. "Fuck you, what the hell?"

"What I'm saying is, let's test that, you know? Because that's the only variable you aren't sure with?"

You sigh. "Aeg, even if he does, I'm not going to pounce—"

The door swings open, and there he is, of pretty boy face and good boy posture because his mother raised herself a good, devout boy who doesn't know what a slouch is because he's not an ape— and is he wearing his leather jacket? Of course he's wearing the leather jacket and you know that smell, that spiced cologne with the leather and his natural scent and fuck, Aemond is looking at you, looking at his brother, and the open expression, the shock, that smidge of relief— shutters to an icy politeness.

Aegon because he's Aegon, pulls you closer, his mouth curling into a grin that only says trouble, forcing Aemond to straighten up his already perfect posture in preparation for whatever his brother has in mind and his stare is white-hot on the conjoined appendages between you and his brother— and Aegon lands a wet, smacking kiss on your cheekbone.

"Had to pick up your girl, baby bro, I mean what kind of—" his blue gaze finds his mother descending the stairs, peering out to see on who it was, and you're frozen, waiting for the bomb to drop and simultaneously unprepared for it, "— boyfriend has his brother pick up his girl? Good thing you got a good excuse, huh? Oh, hey mother dearest! Your favourite son has come back!"

As Aegon leaves your side with a cheeky little wink, you bit your lip at the frosty look on his face that makes you feel like an absolute idiot and fills you with rage all in one go. Because Aemond has never looked at you like that, like you were at fault and acting like a child, but that you also want to jut a finger against his chest.

"Did you have a nice talk with him on the drive over?" he says, jaw hard.

"I didn't tell him," you hiss, taking the hem of his leather jacket instead of his hands enough so you can pretend to kiss his cheeks because his mother is right there, eyes wide at that two of you as Aegon gave you a discreet thumbs up.

"Helaena did. Get over yourself, your mother's—"

"Aemond?"

As he freezes and Alicent calls your name, you plaster the best smile you can make as you twine your fingertips with his.

"Smile."

"Hm."

When you leave his side to greet Alicent, you make sure to stomp on his stupid shoes.

As soon as you've finished your mandatory greetings— even with Otto Hightower, Aemond's grandfather, who merely raised his eyebrows at the apparent new status of you and his grandson, Alicent having to blink multiple times, wrangling positives as she kept shooting her son looks while he stood like a block of ice behind you — Aemond takes your hand by his own volition, tangles your fingers too tight, and starts tugging you along like a bouy.

"Are you a child?" you hiss, trying to pry your hand as insistently without outright yanking, Alicent already sending you both concerned looks at a news that she called 'oh, that is wonderful!'

"I am younger than you," he murmurs back, holding you tight.

"Oh, fuck you."

With a defeated huff, you take longer, heavier strides and stomps so you're the one dragging him.

It's all illusion of control built on pettiness because you're still being navigated, it's more just pride at this point, but you don't care, and when he scoffs right back, you felt at least a pinch of a win.

And then he, of course, matches your strides so fucking easily.

"Freaking horse-legged motherfucker," you mumble. You don't know if he catches it, or you're imaging the soft, surprised noise that's both a snort and a laugh.

He winds you around the hallway, an unbreakable trajectory to the backyard, dragging you past an easy eye view from the dramatic, floor to ceiling windows and trespassing straight into the hedge maze because of course they had one of those.

"Really? Here?"

"Do you want to be ogled up by my mother?" he says in a nauseatingly chipper voice. "Is that what you and Aegon are planning with all this, hm?"

You twist out of his grip, walking deeper on your own until your eyes are swallowed by the darkness. When you turn to him, your eyes adjust, only seeing the silver of his hair, so different from his black leather jacket and dark green jumper. You don't see his expression or his sharp gaze.

"Planned this? Seriously? Nothing since coming here had been planned, Aemond," your voice has bite and if your eyes had adjusted faster, or if you could see better, you would see the flinch he makes, "if it had been, this certainly would be the last of my fucking choices. Or do I have to remind you of the fact that we were supposed to go together? Oh right, things change when you drop a call out of fucking nowhere!"

"I—fuck." He moves around, a hand through his hair as exhales in frustration. "I didn't... think you'd want to go with me. That Sunday plans had been cancelled."

"And you didn't think to message? I mean it's not like we're friends in literally every social media." You try not to sound hurt before taking a deep breath, offering your palms up. "I didn't—don't even know what the issue is, Aemond. Were you so offended that I was sexually active that you just had to rudely drop the call and not talk—"

It's maybe the darkness, or intuition but you can bet half yours savings that Aemond Targaryen is blushing.

"It... gods, no it's not... I wasn't offended that you were sexually active," he says softly, evenly. He clears his throat. "I don't... mind that you're... sexually active. I actively... support it. Even." He coughs. Swallows. Curses.

If you don't feel like your heart is pounding in your throat you would have laughed. You had never seen the boy this flustered before that it's affecting his words, because Aemond has always been the most well spoken person you know.

"Is it about Cregan? Do you have something against Cregan?"

His eye flutter close. "No... and yes."

"I don't understand, Aemy," you whisper, defeated.

He sighs. In the dark, you notice a movement. His hands flex. It's a habit he's had since you've known him. It's instinct. The way you reach out, finding a piece of his leather jacket until you find your way to his hands, running your fingers over the bones and ridges, his sinew and skin. There are callouses from his fencing, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He's frozen first before he sighs, melting through the warmth you share with him.

"I have nothing against Stark," he finally says. "It's the fact that you were still having sex with him that I found unfair." He steps closer until you can see his face better, the struggle in him can be told through the furrow in his brows and the press of his pillowy lips, red and wet as if he had bitten through it. "I... understand that we're not really together, but I couldn't... not feel as if it wasn't right. As if I wanted it to be me."

His hands finds your arms, eye closing and gently placing his forehead against your own. At first you panic, your body trying to make your brain decide do you like this or not but it's Aemond, and he's warm, gentle, sweet almost. It's familiar and new at the same time. It's warmth you recognise, skin you will know anywhere, but in a way that you've never felt him before.

You close your eyes and breathe with him.

You know that this is rare. That this Aemond is reserved for people he loves and cares about, but with his forehead against yours, with his hands holding you steady, rubbing a comforting thumb over your skin that felt just as for him as it was for you, breathing you in and exhaling you out. A single breath between two bodies.

"I don't know if I can agree to that, Aemy."

"What?" He pulls back, hurt pulling taunt your favourite pair of lips. "Do you like Cregan more? You don't think I can please you?"

"That's not—"

His hands closes on your face, cupping it in his palms as you stare, wide-eyed at the blue fire lit up in his eye. His breath brushes your lips, making them tingle.

"Push me away if you don't want it," he says before his eye closes and he takes your mouth against his own, swallowing your gasp then pulling you away again, eye glinting.

"Push me away, ñuha riña." His voice is so soft, words crisp while your body thrummed in a single, frantic heartbeat. When you don't move, too shock, thoughts tangled, he smirks.

With his teeth, he captures your bottom lip, grazing it. When he feels you shudder, eyes fluttering, he chuckles meanly.

"Push me away as if you don't want me." He tilts your chin up as he looks down on you, eye confident in its lust. His thumb brushes your bottom lip. "As if you don't feel everything I do."

"Fuck you," you manage to exhale as you grab the back of his head and devour him just as you did at the restaurant. He groans, using his other hand to feel your side, pass your one breast, giving it a firm squeeze that makes you gasp, tongue clashing, legs tangling as you push and push and he pulls you to him, his back hitting the prickly hedge. It's teeth and tongue, breaths twisted in one air as you used each other like lifelines, like enemies in a swords match.

It's feverish and passion, infuriating want that gives. Because when you dominate the kiss, tangling his tongue with your own, yanking him down and down as if you want him to reach every part of you inside, he bends and follows. And when he pulls you, tangles your hair and takes every gasp and breath, you surrender.

He groans when you suck on his bottom lip, pulling away just enough to spit out, "You taste so much better than my dreams." His mouth moves down and down, leaving a path of heat as he suckles at your neck, practically ripping the buttons of the top of your dress as he slides down and grunts in pain.

"A-Aemy?" Your eyes flutter. "Your back, shit—"

"Fuck that." He tugs you down until you land with an oomph! on his lap, your chest at his eye level before he drags them back to your gaze. "Tell me to stop."

You shake your head, tangling your fingers in his hair. "No."

"Good."

Your back arches, supported in his hold, as he starts sucking the skin lower and lower, another hand massaging your tit that pools hot down your core until his hand, warm and solid, sinew and bone, and Aemond Aemond Aemond, slides between your bra and cups your breast and his hand is so big, and it feels so good that you start grinding on the hard length you feel right at your—

An ear-splitting shriek freezes the both of you. You and Aemond pull back, hand still on your tit.

"Wha—"

"Ew, ew, ew! Mom said you were fighting! FIGHTING DOES NOT EQUATE FUCKING IN THE MAZE, YOU FUCKING CLICHES!"

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