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psychedelic-ink · 5 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tommy miller

genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak

word count: 2.7k

summary: joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.

warnings: gonna state this very clearly: joel gets cucked by tommy and watches, everyone is consenting and it's discussed beforehand, piv, dirty talk, possessive!joel, daddy kink, size kink, established relationship between joel and reader, jealousy, some brotherly rivalry, facial, mild degradation kink, creampie

a/n: this work was commissioned through kofi by the lovely @losergurlsstuff, thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥

**gif made by the amazing @pedgito thank you so much dear!! dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜

Everything has been amazing since you and Joel started dating. To you, he was perfect. The perfect man. The perfect partner. The perfect person. You are forever grateful to whatever god made your roads cross. You have no idea what you’d be doing without him. You’ve never felt so cared for in your entire life. What he doesn’t say with words he shows with what he does and today is no exception.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

You smile and shake your head, his head is laying right above your stomach, his one hand under your shirt, caressing the warm skin. “I have everything I need.”

“Just tell me.”

“I really don’t want anything, Joel. Especially not from you.”

His hand on your skin stills, looking up, you giggle at the way he’s frowning. Shocked.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you dork,” you lean and brush your lips against his forehead. “That you already give me everything. Being with you is enough.”

Joel’s eyes narrow. A pleasurable shudder rolls through your spine, you adore it when he looks at you like that. It reminds you of all the times you pushed his buttons, resulting in a delightful time.

“I have an idea what you might want.”

“And what’s that mister know-it-all?”

“Tommy.”

“W—What?” Your heart sinks to your stomach, your palms suddenly cold and sweaty. His younger brother’s name was the last thing you expected to hear. Joel spreads his fingers across your waist, gently, he squeezes.

“It’s a’right, sweetheart. I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot and well, I think it might be a good gift for your birthday.”

“I don’t understand.”

You genuinely don’t. Also, he’s been thinking about it? The inside of your stomach feels like lead. It’s true that once upon a time you thought how it would be with Tommy—but that was before Joel. And after you two started dating well. . . sure maybe your eyes did linger a bit, maybe you leaned a little too close when he whispered something in your ear during a party. . . You genuinely thought Joel wouldn’t notice.

“I haven’t asked him yet,” he says, thoughtful. “But I was thinkin’ of indulgin’ your curiosities.”

You‘re still not quite sure what he means by that. Your guilt gnaws at the walls of your stomach. Joel gives you everything, yet you make him feel like he doesn’t. Your eyes move away, falling to the corner of the wall. You can’t bear to look at him. He deserves better.

“Hey,” he says, hand cupping your jaw and pulling you back. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.”

“You look like you’re about to,” he cracks a small smile. “I don’t mind, darlin’. It’s just a fantasy ain’t it? I know that you’re mine.”

“I am,” you say tearfully. “I am and always will be.”

“And I’m yours. I just want to spoil you as best as I can, sweetheart. And this seemed doable.”

“Why do you even think Tommy would agree to this?”

“Oh he will,” he says with a grin that makes your cheeks grow warm. “Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.”

You nod but doubt still taints your expression. You don’t doubt Joel’s words, but no one can deny that this might be a bit odd. You’re not entirely sure Tommy will be on board. But you trust Joel, so you don’t question it.

Despite all the doubt, and tension in your muscles, excitement slowly brews deep within you.

“Joel, I’m not so sure about this.”

His head turns harshly to face his brother. There’s no way he’s backing out now, not when they were only inches away from the fucking bedroom door.

Then again, he does understand. He’s ain’t stupid. But Joel had seen the way Tommy looked at you, the way his eyes would do a subtle sweep and linger on your ass whenever you walked out of a room. “I ain’t gonna suddenly choke you out if that’s what got your feathers ruffled.”

Tommy shifts from one foot to the other. Joel’s not used to seeing his brother so deep in though. He fears that if he thinks a little harder he might break his brain. With a huff of breath escaping his lips, Joel throws a hand over Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing his attention.

“Look, I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told her, if at any point you decide you don’t wanna do this, just say so and we’ll stop. No one is gonna get offended.”

Tommy visibly relaxes at Joel’s words. He nods, lips a tight line. It reminds Joel when he taught him how to ride a bike when they were kids. He had the same expression.

“A’right then, now that that’s settled, let’s not keep her waitin’ anymore.”

Without warning he opens the door and pushes Tommy in. If it was any other situation Joel would’ve laughed at the way Tommy tripped over his own feet. But his attention is immediately dragged to the bed you’re perched on. His mouth waters. He knew you were going to get dressed, well undressed in this situation, but he hadn’t thought about what you would put on. Joel’s eyes briefly flicker to Tommy, he seems just as in shock. It’s hard not to be with what you’re wearing.

The fabric is a luxurious, deep blue, reminiscent of the darkest hours when the stars come out to play. The material is silky and smooth against the skin, offering a touch of elegance and comfort. And he would know. It’s his favorite damn set. Shimmering sparkles that adorn the fabric, mimic the stars scattered across the night sky. These sparkles catch the light of the scented candle you’ve lit, creating a subtle and enchanting glow.

Joel gradually meets your gaze. As soon as he does he knows you’ve done it on purpose. His lips quirk up, amusement growing in his eyes, you’d pay for this little stunt.

“Wow,” Tommy exhales and takes a step forward. “You look amazin’ sweetheart.”

You seem a little out of breath already, it’s going to be fun to watch you crumble. Though Joel isn’t quite sure how he feels about his brother being the one doing it.

“Thanks,” you answer, unsure.

There’s a lingering tension in the air and Joel almost rolls his eyes at them both. Almost.

“A’right then,” he pushes Tommy until he’s at the edge of the bed and takes a seat on the chair he brought in this morning. “Stop bein’ shy now. Tommy, you’re her gift, are you sure you want to be the person responsible for her havin’ a shit birthday?”

Tommy’s chest raises, “N-No.”

“Then what are you waitin’ for?”

“Jesus Joel, it’s not like I'm bringin’ her a new plant, give us a second.”

Joel grins at the way he snaps and Tommy only shakes his head, turning to you and finally focusing on the right thing. You.

Tommy tenderly presses both palms on each side of your face, thumbs moving in circles. Your nipples are already hard, he can see them like little diamonds showing up through the fabric. His fingers twitch. Patience isn’t something that he has, but he’ll try. For you.

Your lips part with a soft gasp as Tommy finally brings you in, their lips brushing before full-on pressing against one another. Joel doesn’t miss the way your chest heaves. Your hands fist his shirt and Tommy tilts his head in response, Joel hears your little moans, his own cock gradually hardening under his jeans.

Fuck, you look too good in that lingerie set. It’s hard just to sit and watch.

“Take off his shirt,” Joel grunts, sounding more cross than he intended. You nod, but not without giving him a wary look first. When Tommy’s shirt hits the floor, the younger Miller roughly grabs your chin and turns your head so you’re facing Joel. His spine straightens.

“You ain’t the one given’ orders,” Tommy says. “If you want me to make her feel good, you’re goin’ to shut up and watch, understood?”

Joel’s mouth goes dry but he nods anyway. His eyes narrow as Tommy’s smile grows, his hand slips between your legs and begins to stroke you through your panties. Joel’s breath hitches, his gaze landing where you grow wetter and wetter.

“Who’s in charge baby, tell him.”

Your hips grind down to his hand, “You are.”

“Well that wasn’t much of a challenge,” he chuckles, eyes finding Joel’s again. “Don’t you think you’re bad girl sayin’ that in front of your daddy?”

Heat rushes to Joel’s cheeks, crimson spreading from his chest to his face. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to know that. A tingle he hasn’t felt before spreads from the base of his spine. His jealousy is starting to brew, but at the same time, it feels oddly nice to be helpless, even though he knows he isn’t.

“Answer my question,” Tommy commands, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Are you a bad girl?”

“Y–Yes.”

Your eyes roll when Tommy presses your clit, drawing rough circles, he smiles. “Tell your boyfriend who’s your daddy now?”

Joel holds his breath. Beads of sweat coating his back. “You are,” he hears you say to Tommy. There’s a slight quiver to your bottom lip and every part of him wants to soothe you.

But instead, his brother does.

Tommy sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and kisses your deeply, his hands caressing the contour of your body.

“Don’t worry,” Tommy says. “Daddy is goin’ to take care of you.”

You’re about to lose your mind. Your body is a flame and with each devastating snap of Tommy’s hips, your mouth drops open with a guttural moan. You’ve always assumed he’d be a gentle lover. Though you have a sneaking suspicion that Joel’s presence might be a solid reason why he’s tearing you and building you up over and over again.

He positioned you so you’re staring at nothing else but Joel, you see how hard he is under his pants, the outline of his cock visible and making you gush all over Tommy’s cock. You want him in your mouth so bad but you know this isn’t that kind of game. Joel’s eyes follow the sway of your breasts, your bra ripped from you a while ago. You were completely naked except for your panties—Joel’s favorite and now Tommy is fucking you in it.

Tommy reaches forward and grabs your throat, pulling you up so more of your chest is exposed. His cock is bigger than you imagined, nearly big as Joel. He pounds into you mercilessly, his length stretching you every day, reminding you whose cock is tearing you apart.

“Does it turn you on that he’s watchin’ how wet you’re gettin’ my dick sweetheart?” With his question another fresh wave of slick drips out of you, tears build in your eyes, your insides left throbbing. His hips stutter, going balls deep, breath catching in his throat. “Fuck. Joel, she’s soaked— does she ever get this wet for you?”

“‘Course she does,” he grunts, crossing his arms. You can’t tell if he’s upset or not, but the fact that Tommy doesn't have a broken nose already must be a good sign.

Tommy leans into your ear, loud enough for Joel to hear. “Bet the old man can’t fuck you as well as I do.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Both of them are so good at this, and your head is in shambles.

Tommy suddenly stops, and you’re a brink away from breaking down. A whine tears away from your lips. He releases your neck, you fall forward, only upright thanks to his hands holding your arms. “Answer me.”

“You’re making me feel so good,” you say instead and thankfully, he doesn’t try to gauge a different response. His cock pulses, making you believe that was all he wanted to hear. Joel observes the two of you carefully.

“Say it again baby, tell him how well daddy’s taking care of you.”

“Daddy’s taking care of me,” you slur as his pace begins to pick up again. Each thrust makes you squeeze his cock like a vice. Liquid heat drops down your spine, your stomach clenching as he edges you closer and closer to your downfall. “J–Joel,” you call out without much thought and his dark gaze meets your own. “He feels so good.”

“Oh fuck—” Tommy chokes and swiftly pulls out, prompting you to let out a disappointed whine. “Shit, baby, I’m gonna— fuck— bring your face here—”

The back of Tommy’s head falls against the headboard and you quickly hurry towards him, your glistening cunt now in perfect view. You hear Joel taking in a sharp exhale. You part your lips, dipping down to take Tommy into your mouth but he stops it, holding you by the nape. “I’m gonna ruin that pretty face of yours,” he groans, forcing you down so your cheek would be pressed right below his pelvis. He starts stroking himself, fucking into his fist, and the sight is so beautiful that you lick one of his balls into your mouth, his back arches.

Suddenly, he grips you even tighter and starts moaning loudly in harsh gasps, his hips thrusting uncontrollably against your face. He closes his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of you. You can feel him pulsing against your skin. You moan in response, feeling the rush of excitement as you open your mouth wider to take it all in.

“Tommy, please,” you breathe out, your eyes locked with his as he releases a stream on your face, covering your cheeks and lips with his release. You can feel yourself growing even more aroused as he continues to stroke himself, coating your face with his warm come. You whimper, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as he lets out a final raspy breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his chest rising and falling heavily as he stares at you, your face damp and covered in his release. “You look so beautiful like this.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up, the intimate moment causing your heart to race in your chest. Tommy reaches out, gently wiping some of the come off of your face with his thumb before bringing it to your lips, letting you taste yourself.

“Fuck,” Tommy murmurs, his breaths coming out in short pants. He pulls you up to him, his lips crashing onto yours in a fierce kiss. However, while you’re lost in his mouth, you don’t realize the bed dipping with an added weight. You hear a clink of a belt and suddenly Joel is buried deep between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles around your clit. You gasp against Tommy’s mouth, the sensations becoming almost too much to handle.

“You didn’t make her come, idiot,” he groans, fucking himself into your deeper and deeper. Your eyes roll, your lips parting an inch away from Tommy’s face. Joel sinks his teeth into your neck, hips rutting into you without leaving you. His other hand playing with the elastic of your panties, you break down around him, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. “Mine,” he growls, acting as if the two of you are alone. “Mine, mine, mine—”

Joel spills into you with a deep and visceral groan. There’s so much, his cock twitching and pulsing as he forces himself even deeper, claiming you as his. Doing something Tommy isn’t allowed to do. You shiver all over, your body weak with pleasure.

He trickles down the inside of your thighs as he pulls out, falling back to his knees. You collapse onto Tommy’s chest and you’re surprised when you feel his hand on your neck, rubbing soothingly over your warm skin.

Joel leaves a trail of kisses down your spine, “You were amazin’, honey.”

“Such a good girl,” Tommy murmurs, though both of their voices feel as if it’s coming from a distance. Your eyes flutter closed, exhaustion taking hold of you. “Let’s get her cleaned up and tuck her in.”

Joel presses his mouth against you one last time before heading to the bathroom.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x fem!reader #tommy miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tommy miller smut #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #hbo the last us fanfic #tlou fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction

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starringthesturniolos · 5 days

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baby it's cold outside - chris sturniolo

summary: you are forced to share the air mattress with your long time enemy, chris, on a camping trip.

"Since you two wanted to argue the whole way up, you guys get to share a tent together. Yay!!", Matt says while jumping up and down in fake excitement.

On the way to the camp site, Chris and I did argue a lot. But in my defense, the idiot kept pushing my buttons! He kept turning my least favorite songs on and blasting them at full volume so I couldn't sleep. When we stopped at 7/11 he grabbed the last of my favorite drink and gulped it down in front of me. When we finally arrived, he dumped all my heavy bags on the ground and laughed at me struggling to pick them up. It was like he was asking to get yelled at, or like he wanted me to be mad at him.

"No, Matt please!" I grab onto his arm desperately. "I'm sorry but please don't make me stay with him!"

Matt rolls his eyes at me and folds his arms over his chest. "Would you rather sleep outside then?" I scoff and shoot a glare towards Chris who isn't standing too far behind Matt. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Sleep outside then. That's fine by me, princess." Chris sneers responding to my comment while turning his back on me to set up his tent. I take three deep breathes and close my eyes. I am not going to let this idiot keep getting under my skin. I stomp away from Matt and Chris over to the log Nick was sitting on and he laughs at me.

"Well hello, Mrs. Grumpy"

"Oh shut up" you sigh.

I plop my bag down on the floor, my chest heaving from hauling ass. I had to carry my heavy bags all the way from where Chris dropped them earlier today to the tent. He was laying all comfortable in his set up of blankets and the sight alone pissed me off.

"Thought you were sleeping outside tonight. Is it because you're scared of the animals, princess?" he sneers out the nickname like I'm more of an ogre than a princess. Why is he always so fucking annoying.

"Leave me alone, and I leave you alone. I'm going to bed. I'm tired and I'm not here for the bullshit." I say as I reach into my bag for my sleeping bag. My sleeping bag. Holy shit.

"Shit, shit, shit" you dump out your bag and see no sleeping bag in sight. Its cold out and the thought of sleeping without any covering made a shiver crawl down your spine.

"What is it now??" Chris sits up and turns the flashlight on in an exasperated manner. You sigh deeply. "It's nothing, go to bed Chris." He shrugs and lies down again, turning his back to me. I didn't need to give him another reason to tease me tonight. I flop on the ground on the opposite side of the tent from him and curl up into a ball. I can feel myself shivering but I try to ignore it.

Thinking back on when I first met the triplets in 3rd grade, I remember how cute I thought Chris was. I met Nick and Matt on the bus ride home from school one day when Chris was sick. The next day, me, Matt, and Nick were playing tag at recess when Chris walked out with a doctors note in hand. He walked over to his brothers and my heart skipped a beat. Immediately, Nick and Matt went to introduce me. "Chris! This is-" before Nick could even finish his sentence, Chris was already talking. "Well, isn't she a looker" he chuckles sarcastically while looking down at me, clearly judging me. I also looked down at my two loose braids and hand me down clothes and sigh. "Am I really that ugly" I thought to myself. I knew I probably shouldn't have let a boy that I hardly knew opinion get to me, but the tears came nonetheless." I wanted him to like me" you thought to yourself, wallowing in self pity. I was cut out of my trance when Chris started to laugh sporadically. "What? What is it?" I mutter looking at Chris and then too Matt and Nick who look embarrassed by their brothers rude antics. "Nothing, nothing. Its just... You're even uglier when you cry!" he starts laughing even harder. I felt myself start to shake from embarrassment and anger. Who did he think he was. "Your mean!" I stomped my foot which only made him laugh harder. I couldn't take anymore harassment in one day, and turned on my heel and ran away with Nick and Matt right on my heels.

After all these years he still hasn't changed. "Y/N, HELLO!!" Chris yells bringing me back to the present. "What?".

"Where the fuck is your sleeping bag?" he asks. I sit up from where I was laying to face him. He was now laying down with his body faced in my direction.

"Oh my God, clearly not here or I'd be using it, dumbass." I roll my eyes and go to lay back down.

"Lose the attitude and come stay in the bed with me" he mutters before I can return to my balled up position. My mouth flys open. Since when did he care if I was cold or not. "Wait, what?" I say in shock.

"Get the fuck up and come here. Nick and Matt will punch me in the throat if you catch a cold." he says nonchalantly as if it's normal for people that hate each other to share a bed. I roll my eyes again. I'm not sharing a bed with an asshole, even if it causes me to freeze to death. "No thanks" I scoff, preparing to lay back down again.

He sighs exasperated and moves from his comfortable position in his blankets. He stands up and starts walking towards me. I feel my throat start to tense up. "What are you doing?" fear creeping into my tone. Once he reaches me, he grips underneath my thighs with one hand and tries to support my back with the other. Desperately, I try to wiggle out of his grasp but too no avail. I am in his arms in no time. It takes everything in me to not sink into his warm chest. I didn't realize how cold I was until this exact moment. Suddenly I start to panic again when he starts to walk because I have no idea where he's taking me. Then I think of the worst. "Are you seriously gonna throw me out the tent. Come on Chris, do you really hate me that much??"

He stops moving entirely and he looks down at me. God the way he looks looking down at me is enough to be in any girls dream. Too bad he's just a big dickhead. "You weren't listening to me. So now I'm forcing you to stay with me on the air mattress." he pauses before continuing, almost like he doesn't want to say what he's going to say next. He sighs and continues on, "You were shivering really bad while you were in La La land. I didn't want you too freeze anymore." He had a glimmer of concern in eyes when he said it and that's all it takes for me to believe him. I hate the way my cheeks warm up from the honest confession. It meant he cared, and it shouldn't matter to me but it does.

He starts to walk again, seeing I had no response and plops me down on the mattress. He flops down right beside me, and even though it's warmer with the blankets, it's not enough. Another shiver racks through me. "Y/n??" Chris doesn't even try to hide the concern in his voice. "Do you need me closer? Will that help?" he looks at me waiting for my call. The thought of Chris getting close to me is enough to make my head spin. And as much as I wish being in Chris' arms would repeal me, it doesn't. Instead I feel my heart skip a beat like they did all those years ago. Get it together Y/n.

"Yes" I whisper. Chris doesn't need to be told twice and he pulls me impossibly close to his body. He grabs my thigh and puts it around his waist and then pulls my head into his chest. All I can sense is him. Instead of it annoying me, I lean into his scent and his warmth. In my heart I know that even if it was the hottest night of all time, I'd still enjoy being wrapped in him like this. And I hated myself for it. I melt into his arms and feel myself getting lulled to sleep. Just as I'm about to fall asleep I feel his lips graze my hair. " I could never hate you, angel, not in a million years. I'm sorry". And with those words, I fall asleep in his arms.

Send in request, I could always use some more inspo

Love, Mya

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic

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starryjaem · 7 days

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destiny book one

DREAMING — MARK LEE

— parties were never your thing, until a mysterious guy at the party made your evening more enjoyable. you didn’t get his name, so when will you see him again? turns out, he’s a popular skateboarder.

↳ skateboarder! mark x fem reader

— she falls first, he falls harder. mentions of drinking.

featuring nct dream.

chapter one

“Are you having fun?”

Your best friend shouted at you, as music was blasting in the speakers. The room was filled with an overwhelming amount of people, which caused you to stay on the couch for most of the evening so far.

You hated parties. All you wanted to do was stay home. You only attended this party because today was your bestfriend’s birthday.

“Honestly, no.” You shook your head, showing your boredom for the party. She knew you didn’t like parties, so she didn’t mind that you were sitting on the couch while everyone else was having fun.

“Come drink with us!” A group of people, which your best friend knew, but you didn’t, called her to come over towards the kitchen.

“Will you be okay alone? I won’t take long.” She asks you, as she showed you a worried look on her face.

You took her hand in yours, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. “I’ll be fine. Go have fun.” You smiled, as she smiled at you back.

As she walked away from the couch, you decided to stay on your phone. The party will be over soon, is all you thought.

You felt like you were on your phone, forever. Your best friend wasn’t back yet, so you decided to look for her yourself. To your surprise, she wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. Shit.

Sending her a text, you hope that she responds to your text soon. You groaned, sitting on the chair that was placed in front of the table as you placed your head in your hands.

“What’s up?”

You looked up, not paying attention to who was around you at first. Looking up, you make eye contact with a guy wearing glasses.

“Oh, hey.” You awkwardly spoke, waving at the guy in front of you. The people that were at this party were close friends of your best friend, you recognized a lot of people, but didn’t talk to them much. So.. who was he?

“Mind if I sit here?”

“Sure.” You responding, not caring much at all. He tried making conversation, but you were making such a terrible first impression as you were clearly annoyed.

“You seem.. bored.” He says, intensely looking at your facial features. Your eyes remained on his, but you quickly looked away to not make it obvious that you were staring at him.

He’s hot.

“I’m not, just tired.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I’m ready to go home.”

For some reason, his response caught your attention. You were no longer staring at the table, but instead, your eyes met his again.

“So, why don’t you go home?”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “Because I rather talk to you.”

Your heart immediately skipped a beat. He was joking, right? Perhaps, he’s another playboy, just like the rest of them are.

“Don’t waste your time, I’m not that interesting.”

He laughed, “You are, more than you know.”

Before you can continue the conversation, someone walks behind him, attempting to scare him. However, it didn’t work.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already. The party just started.” The other guy said to the mysterious guy in front of you. Looking up at you, he realized he interrupted the conversation.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“Not at all, I was about to get another drink.”

The other guy must’ve noticed your awkward attempt at being interested in your phone, which you weren’t.

“Hi, I’m Jeno. His roommate.”

You showed him a warm smile after telling him your name, “Nice to meet you.”

“Well, I’m leaving now, it was nice talking with you. See you later.” The guy in the glasses smiled at you, as he stood up from his seat and left with Jeno.

You waved goodbye, returning the smile to him. Suddenly, you realized that you forgot to ask for his name. You face palmed yourself, regretting not asking for his name.

A sudden buzzing came from your purse. You opened your purse, taking out your phone as you were receiving a phone call from your friend.

You answered, covering your other ear so you can try to hear her better since the music was still blasting.

“Hey, are you still sitting on the couch?”

“No, I’m in the kitchen. Where are you?”

“In the bathroom, but I’ll be in the kitchen soon. I have so much to tell you!”

You chuckled, hearing your best friend’s excitement through her voice.

— ♡ —

You woke up in your best friend’s bed, as you rolled over to grab your phone from the nightstand. Checking the time, it was almost 11AM.

Your best friend woke up, as you were slightly already making too much noise from moving around in bed.

“Good morning, I’m so exhausted.” Your best friend told you, stretching out your arms.

“I’m sure you are. You slept extremely late.”

Rolling over to your side, you faced your best friend. “So, there’s something you needed to tell me?”

“Oh yeah, sorry for falling asleep on you yesterday.”

Your best friend ended up falling asleep during the party. You told everyone to leave and you were glad that everyone listened.

“It’s okay, now tell me.”

She smiled, looking at the ceiling as she told you. “Someone asked for my phone number yesterday.”

You sat up, not expecting to hear that at all. That’s why she was taking so long, you thought. You shook her arm slightly, wanting to know more about what happened.

“Who was it?”

“I just met him yesterday. He told me his name is Jeno.”

Jeno. He’s the one you met in the kitchen yesterday.

“I was in the kitchen and he approached me while his friend was with him. We started talking and he asked for my number. He said he wants to talk to me more.”

You could see the blush on your best friend’s face.

“That’s so cute.“

“What about you? I saw how his friend was looking at you from across the room.”

You froze, suddenly remembering your interaction with him. You wanted to see him again.

“We talked.. but I forgot to ask for his name. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He’s hot.”

Your best friend laughed, “No way!”

You sighed, “I know.”

“You know, I can always ask Jeno for his name.”

Right, that was a good idea. You smiled, knowing that there’s a possible chance that you will be able to talk to him again.

Your best friend checked her phone, seeing that Jeno sent her a text an hour ago. Jeno invited her to the skatepark. He’ll be there at one.

“Jeno invited me to the skatepark, but you’re coming with me.”

“No thanks, I would rather not third wheel.”

“You won’t! Someone will be there, maybe. Hopefully, you can talk with him! And get his name this time.”

Realization came to you again, the butterflies returned to you.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Great! We’re leaving in an hour. Get dressed. Wear something cute for him.” Your best friend winked.

You took that into consideration. But, why were you so nervous? You haven’t known him for that long.

— ♡ —

You and your best friend arrived at the skatepark. In such an unfamiliar setting, you both didn’t know where to go.

Eventually, you both spotted the familiar face, which was Jeno, and approached him.

“Hey Jeno, this is my best friend, she’ll be with us today.”

Jeno smiled at you, “Hi.”

You greeted him back, waving at him. “So, where’s your friend?” Your best friend asked, as you were looking around the skatepark.

“Showing off, as usual. He’s skateboarding now.” Jeno laughed, but he was proud of his best friend for his skateboarding skills.

You looked over, seeing him do tricks on his skateboard. Amazing. His movement on the skateboard with smooth and fast, completely surprising you.

However, you both made eye contact again. Which caused him to stop his skateboard. He was walking towards you all, your heart started pounding once more.

You tried to play it off like you weren’t nervous, but you were. He has a hold on you.. and you didn’t know why.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart.”

— ♡ —

💌 author’s note — i’m so excited for this series !! to be in the taglist, comment or send me an inbox. 18+ only!

©️ starryjaem

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ithebookhoarder · 1 month

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Hiiiiiii, Could i request an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic where Anthony married reader who is from a lower class (basically like Theo) and they end up having a fight because reader did something that would be considered out of class or simply wrong while she’s trying to learn to be a viscountess. Sorry if it didn’t make any sense English isn’t my first language 😭😭😭

All's Fair in Love and Cricket (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Synopsis: After getting into a fight with your new husband you decide to settle your differences in a 'sporting' fashion, whilst reminding Anthony once and for all just who he married.

A/N: Ohhhhh boy did I enjoy this one. I'm sorry if it feels a little rushed or clunky in places, I may make some more edits at some point. I struggled with the flow of writing so much action but I loved it too much not to post it. So yeah, anxiety be damned else this would join the rest of the unposted drafts I have stashed away. I hope you enjoy it. 💕

Warnings: Anthony being a stupid idiot, class references (discrimination), reference to illness

Masterlist

It was late summer and as the sun beat down on the green lawns of St James’ Palace the lords and ladies below began to wilt. Many a woman held her parasol above her head in a desperate attempt to remain cool, which was hard when you wore petticoats and had nothing to do but sit and watch the men play cricket for hours on end.

Even Her Majesty looked like she was struggling to make it through the afternoon's entertainment, her attendants desperately fanning her where she sat under her canopy. They looked close to melting in their ornate gowns, however they were clearly willing to endure if it allowed them to continue admiring the game - and more importantly, those playing it. It was like waving a bone in a dog’s face as they watched all the eligible young men of the court sprinting about the green, their physique and athletic talents on clear display.

No wonder the Queen had her opera glasses with her, despite her proximity to the field.

You almost felt bad for them, watching as the men were subjected to the same treatment as the young ladies were night after night at social functions… hence the 'almost'. After all, there was a sense of satisfaction watching them preen and dance about like show ponies on display. That, and the view wasn’t exactly a terrible one when your husband was one of those playing.

You’d have endured sitting on that blasted green a thousand times over, baking in the afternoon sun and surrounded by swooning women, just to watch Anthony Bridgerton as he captained his team.

Being one of Anthony’s oldest and dearest friends, his competitive nature was well known to you (for which you had one too many games of Pall Mall at Aubrey Hall to thank), but it seemed to be out in full force today. You’d simply lost track of how many times he had dashed back and forth, working up somewhat of a sweat as he barked orders at his teammates in a desperate bid to ensure victory. It was no surprise to you that he had subsequently been forced to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves, exposing his rather sculpted arms to those watching.

As you said, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon - and normally, you’d have been smugly lapping it up, however, today you were unable to truly enjoy yourself. Not when all you wanted to do was march over to him, take that cricket bat and give him a good whack or two. Maybe that would knock some sense back into idiot…

That was the issue with being in love with your dearest friend: those who knew you best also knew the best ways to hurt you, and Anthony’s behaviour at dinner the following evening had proven just how true a statement that was.

It had all started after the entire family had been summoned to the townhouse for a dinner, to toast you and what had so far been a successful first Season as Viscountess Bridgerton. At first, everything had appeared normal, with the usual laughter, merriment, and ease that one would typically experience at a Bridgerton gathering. It was what had first endeared the family to you, back when you had been but a small child, living at Aubrey Hall as the only daughter of their Stable Master.

They had never been anything other than kind to you, inviting you to play with their children, and join them in their daily lessons. They had also bought you gifts on your birthdays, invited you to join them at events, and even paid for the finest doctors when your father had fallen unwell several years ago. It was as if, to the Bridgertons, your family was their family - an attitude that they extended to the all members of the staff that kept their ancestral seat running. It didn’t matter if you were Head House Keeper, or the greenest of scullery maids. Everyone was counted and cherished, and the Bridgertons had earned utmost loyalty in return.

The rigid rules and divisions of high society didn’t appear to exist within the wisteria covered walls, and it had been that way well into your young adult life. In fact, it had been you that had initially rejected Anthony when he first declared his love for you one day, after taking you along with him on one of your many afternoon rides.

You’d been the one to remind him who he was and that society expected him to marry someone they deemed worthy of him and his title - and that wasn’t you. You didn’t have a penny to your name beyond the small sum you’d saved from helping with the younger Bridgerton children as a governess. You didn’t have a title or an estate or anything to bring to a marriage.

“Except the most important thing!” Anthony had pleaded. “Love… I love you, and there is no one else for me in this life except you. Life is short, terrifyingly short. Look at my mother and father… to be without the person you love most in the world is an agony and I cannot bear it. Please. I can’t lose you. I will not spend my life without you, knowing love is within both of our reach but that we were too afraid to grasp it? If I cannot spend my life, no matter how long it may be, with you then I will have no-one. No-one. My brothers can have the title. I don’t want it. I only want you.”

He’d continued to insist that for the following 6 months, even after his family had moved to their London house for the Season. It didn’t matter how many beautiful, eligible, wealthy heiresses he was introduced to. He would entertain none of them. He would have none of them. Only you.

It’s what he’d continued to insist until you’d eventually accepted, realising that he was right; Love was the most important thing and you both deserved to have it in your lives, come what may.

So, you’d said yes.

You’d become engaged and gradually made your way out into society as the new Viscountess Bridgerton, armed with the support and guidance of the Bridgertons.

Which brought you to last night and the dinner that had been organised to mark the end of the most challenging, but rewarding, Season of your life - and the dinner had started so wonderfully. Yet, somehow it had all gone to hell in a hand basket in the mere blink of an eye thanks the well meaning, but ill timed, teasing of Colin and Benedict.

Your brothers-in-law had both decided to raise a toast to your first Season as an ‘official’ member of the family and they'd got off to a rather complimentary start, if you were being honest. However, they had somehow moved from their praise on to reminiscing about the many years and many adventures you had had since joining their family.

Whereas every anecdote had caused the rest of the family to spiral into more laughter, your husband had looked more and more infuriated. In fact, Anthony had warned them not too kindly to ‘sit down’ and ‘shut up’ about your childish behaviours, which of course had only encouraged them further.

“Oh, hush, brother,” Benedict had quipped, raising a glass to your successful debut. “She knows we mean it all in good fun. After all, she once had a phase where she refused to wear shoes and would walk barefoot around the estate, traipsing mud everywhere! I think we’re allowed to be surprised by how far our dear darling Y/N has come.”

“It’s true - It’s a miracle,” Colin added, wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks. “The transformation is remarkable. Who knew she would go from feral ragamuffin to lofty Lady Bridgerton.”

Anthony’s only response had been to tighten his grip on his glass to the point it looked like it would shatter.

Whether it was the residual stress of your busy social calendar, or something else entirely you had no idea. All you did know was that Anthony was angry, and even your gentle touch would not soothe him.

In a desperate attempt to calm him, you’d pulled Anthony out onto the terrace shortly after dessert had been cleared and asked what was happening. Much to your surprise, he had turned on you, venting about how childish his brothers were and how embarrassing it was that they were discussing things unbefitting someone who was a Viscountess.

“They’re just joking, my love. They were doing it to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny,” he’d growled, causing you to bristle. “They’re so immature. They need to grow up and realise we’re not children any more. That… that you’re my wife and joint head of this family.”

“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, Anthony,” you snapped, the warning clear in your tone. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing, I just - it - they’re… it’s embarrassing.”

“So, you’re embarrassed? By what? Your family? Or me? Because everything they said tonight is true. I did do those things, as did you. I may not have been born a noble lady but you knew that when you asked me to marry you. So don’t suddenly act like you're ashamed, that you are somehow better than your family - than me.”

Somehow the argument had only spiralled from there, with both of you saying things you didn’t mean, and with both of you storming off and slamming the doors behind you.

Even now, sat on the edge of the cricket pitch, the thought made your blood boil. How dare he? How dare he act ashamed of you and the wondrous memories of your youth together? It wasn’t as if you hadn’t grown and matured since then. You had done everything within your power to be worthy of him and his family, and yet all it took was one mention of the girl you had once been to make him upset?

As if sensing your silent fury, Eloise had been glued to your side since the moment you'd left the house. Her company had been a blessing, with her numerous whispered remarks and jokes, making the day almost bearable. One remark in particular from Eloise had caused you to burst out laughing in a most undignified fashion after watching Anthony trip over one of the opposite team - the Duke of Hastings of all people.

You still weren’t quite sure how they had been positioned on opposite teams, but you were sure there was some kind of wicked divine intervention responsible. Who else would think it a good idea to put two competitive men against one another? Your hosts, perhaps? After all, Lady Danbury and Her Majesty had organised the game and you had learned long ago not to underestimate the women - especially when they decided to conspire together.

“How long is this delightful game again?” Eloise’s polite remark oozed with sarcasm as she leant back against the tree behind her.

It was obvious she was bored senseless. In fact, you half suspected she would have already left had her mother not been sat on the opposite side of the green, watching her like a hawk.

“I’m not sure,” you groaned in reply. “I lost count of who was winning about an hour ago.”

“So, we’re to be trapped here for eternity?”

“Pretty much, considering this part will not end until either Simon or Anthony lose, and we both know that neither one of them will concede defeat easily.”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “And I thought they were bad at Pall Mall-”

“-LOOK OUT!”

The cry interrupted both of you as you turned in surprise. Given the so-far sedimentary tone of the day, neither of you had expected such excitement as numerous Lords and Ladies began to hurl themselves out of the way as a stray cricket ball rocketed through the air, towards the crowd.

“Good god!”

The exclamation seemed apt as both you and Eloise ducked, watching as the ball sailed past, causing several yelps and groans from the people around you. You were pretty sure you also spied a glass of lemonade flying through the air in all the chaos. However, your attention was drawn to the figure charging towards you to retrieve the offending item as it rolled to a stop.

Anthony.

“Pardon me, Y/N,” he murmured, reaching down to collect the ball that now lay a small distance from your feet. You nodded in greeting, aware of the many eyes watching but you elected not to say anything, not trusting yourself not to make some snide remark.

As it was, you both had barely said more than a handful of words to each other since your argument last night.

Clearly sensing the lingering tension between you, Anthony quickly turned to address his sister instead. “Eloise.”

“Ah, brother," Eloise cheered. "Splendid play so far. Tell me, when did the object of the game become the decapitation of the ton? I would have attended far more cricket matches had I known that was the aim of the game.”

“You can blame Simon for that one,” he replied, his taunt hidden beneath his neutral smile. “Still, good dodging back there. I thought he might have nearly caught you both.”

“Almost.”

“But alas he missed, like most of your players today,” you quipped, enjoying the way Anthony seemed to redden at the reminder of his team’s less than stellar performance. “Still, good effort. You’ve almost caught up with Her Majesty’s team. I believe that’s better than last year.”

“Well, that might have had something to do with the fact that she does have Simon,” Anthony grumbled.

It was true, no one could out-run Simon - even if Anthony always gave it a damn good try: hence why the Queen often had him captain her team when he was in London for the season. Besides, the head of the other team was usually Lord Duval, due to his position as the Queen’s chief administrator. However, it seemed his brains and financial strength were all he had, due to the fact his social skills, and athleticism were sorely lacking.

“Touché, and who is up next?” Eloise asked.

“I don't actually know. The other team seem to be taking remarkably long to sort themselves out.”

Just then, almost as if on cue, three men began to hurry towards them.

A quick glance revealed that one of the gentlemen who was approaching was Colin Bridgeton, and the other the Duke of Hastings; that much you knew. The third was rather unfamiliar to you, however, you were pretty certain he’d been playing on Simon’s team. Regardless of his identity, neither he nor any of the other gentlemen now stood in front of you looked very pleased. Rather, they looked as if they had all sucked on a lemon, their frowns were so deep.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I must reclaim Lord Bridgerton here for a moment. It appears Anthony will be needed to bowl again,” Simon sighed by way of explanation.

“What on earth for?”

Colin was the first to answer. “Lord Dingby is unable to bowl on account of the heat, and the Baron will not play.” His skepticism was clear as he shot the so called Baron a disapproving look. “He ’twisted his ankle’ or so he claims, thus we are down a bowler and the other team is down a player.”

You all rolled your eyes.

“So then, who will bat?” questioned Eloise curiously. “If Anthony is bowling you still require one more man to take their place on the other team?”

Wasn’t that the question of the hour. However, no one appeared to have an answer, and by the disapproving glare steadily growing on the Queen’s face, they didn’t have long to come up with one.

“Maybe Lord Stevens?” suggested the third man hastily, staring around at the crowd.

“No. He injured himself riding the other week,” Simon replied. “And unfortunately our hosts only saw fit to invite enough male guests as were playing. We aren’t exactly spoilt for choice regarding possible options.”

It was true. There didn’t seem to be any visible answer in sight given that those most suited to the game were already positioned on the field.

“What about female guests though?”

Your question hung in the air for a moment, causing everyone around you to turn in surprise.

“Excuse me?” Anthony looked at you suspiciously as you began to rise from your seat. He was well versed enough to know when mischief was afoot. A fact that was proven right a moment later as you held your hand out towards a shocked - and excited - Colin.

He was only too happy to oblige your silent request as he placed the bat in your grip. It was rapidly becoming the most exciting event of the season and lord knows he wasn’t about to spoil the fun - especially if he got to rub salt into Anthony’s wounds at the same time.

After all, given his display the previous evening, it was time you truly gave him something to feel embarrassed about. Losing.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Perfectly,” you smiled. “You’ve seen me when we’ve played Pall Mall. I have a decent enough swing. Besides, you said yourselves you need an extra player and there isn’t exactly anyone suited left - not anyone male, anyway.”

“Anthony?”

To his credit, your husband was also smiling, even if you could see the sudden tension forming behind his perfect smile. “I see no problem with it. I’m sure our hosts would prefer the game finished rather than called off because we ran out of players.”

“Agreed. Well, it’s settled then.” Simon cheered, clapping a hand on Anthony’s shoulder as they looked back towards the field. “It seems she will be taking his go.”

Then they noticed the rain cloud of a man next to them.

"She can’t play!” protested the third man. Everyone looked at him in silent disbelief. “This is a gentleman’s game. A Lady can not play."

“Her Majesty seems to have no objections,” Eloise commented smugly, glancing across the field. Indeed, it was true Her Majesty seemed to have no objections to the turn of events, choosing instead to exchange a wad of pound notes with the man beside her. If anything she looked exhilarated by the prospect. "Besides, I doubt a feeble female such as ourselves will pose any threat to your team, your Lordship.”

“Well… I… Bridgerton, I still don’t think-”

Thankfully, Anthony was all too busy gazing at you to take any notice of the pompous oaf’s objections.

It was a look you were more than familiar with, the unspoken desire and encouragement obvious in the way his gaze softened. It was the same look he always gave you when you’d done something amazing (and most things were amazing in his eyes). It didn't matter if it was taming a particularly unruly horse, solving a maths problem that left the rest of them scratching their heads, or daring to step onto the dance floor at your first ball, knowing not another soul in that room other than him.

It was a look that made you feel invincible. That you could do anything and everything you put your mind to as long as you had Anthony cheering you on from the sidelines... you were a team. Always.

"Anthony?" you asked, the challenge obvious - but also your sincerity. If he truly did not want you to play then you'd have marched back to your chair and sat right back down.

You'd meant it before. You loved your husband and wanted nothing more than to be the best partner you could be. Your hurt from last night had stemmed from the fear that, for a moment, that wasn't enough for him anymore.

Fortunately, it appeared you were wrong. Your husband wasn't embarrassed by you. If anything, he looked ready to kiss the ground you walked on as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, "If you can get four runs, I will personally pay you 5 pounds."

"You have a deal," you laughed. "As it is, women and ladies alike play cricket up and down the country. It’s high time we had a chance to show you boys up."

The other man began to protest again. "My Lady, my La-"

He never got very far. You simply stopped, turning and handing him your parasol and shawl.

"Thank you," you cheered marching away.

He paused, taken aback. It didn’t help that Eloise was only too eager to firmly pull him back into your now vacant seat with a glare that could have melted ice.

All around applause broke out as the players resumed their positions on the field. It took a moment or two for them to prepare for play but now everyone seemed to be watching intently.

Oh well, if you were to dare to play at all then you may as well dare to achieve something from it, you mused, gripping the bat handle and aligning yourself with the wicket. Victory seemed a rather good start, especially given the fact you had no idea what Lady Whistledown would make of this turn of affairs. You’d already had a shocking enough entrance into the world of the Ton, what was one more daring display?

"Go easy, Lord Bridgerton," the referee cautioned from the side of the green.

Anthony nodded obediently at the crowd’s titters. You could see the restraint he was demonstrating, choosing not to hurl the ball at you the way he would had you both been in the privacy of your home. Instead, it took all his will power to grip the cricket ball and resume his position on the field.

Unfortunately, you never knew when best to desist from poking proverbial bears. That, and Anthony was too easy a target.

"Yes, do go easy on me," you jibed. Everyone who knew you could hear the sarcasm buried in your voice as you took the bat and fluttered your eyelashes at him. "I’m only a delicate woman, but I must endeavour to ensure her Majesty’s team at least has an opportunity to best you, Lord Bridgerton. You’re only losing by what? A few wickets?"

Oh. You were in for it now.

Anthony’s grin was devious as he stepped back a few paces, weighing the ball in his hand till finally he charged at you, swinging his arm over in the perfect bowl.

It was then you brought up your bat to send the ball back in a high arc.

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone followed the ball with their eyes. It was as if they couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to hit it. However, the shock quickly wore off as everyone remembered the point of hitting the ball in the first place.

"GO!" came a yell from the crowd as excitement began to spread.

So, you did.

Hitching your skirts in one hand, you began to sprint towards the other set of wickets, grinning as your partner passed you along the way.

Of course, you would have liked to protest that you could have indeed run faster had you not been encumbered by your stays and petticoats. Your slippers were also rather terrible for any movement. What you wouldn’t have given for a pair of trousers right then.

"Come on!" came another yell - it seemed as if everyone was forgetting their dignity in all the excitement as you tore back and forth across the grass in a mad blur.

Had it been anyone but you, it would have been a terribly scandalous moment. Yet, your name - and the status of your betrothed - meant this was all merely seen as sport. Besides, from the way Her Majesty was whooping from her perch by the trees, it was clear where her loyalties lay.

"Come on Y/N!"

"Anthony! Run!"

"Over here!"

"Come on!"

The cries blurred into one as you finally turned at what you planned on being your final run, only to spot Anthony as he came sprinting back towards you… and the wicket.

"Oh no, you don’t," you laughed, charging onwards in a final burst of energy.

You could hardly catch your breath as the world slowed around you.

All that remained was you, Anthony, and the closing distance between you.

You could see his desperation laced with delight as he watched you stagger towards the wicket… just as the ball he’d thrown hit it.

"IN!"

The referee’s declaration initiated an eruption of noise as all around the green, men and women celebrated the spectacle they’d just witnessed, and the victory you had now ensured. Within seconds you were swarmed, mobbed by well wishers and triumphant team mates. There were so many hugs and snatched ‘well done’s that you were quite at a loss what to do other than stand there and accept it. Thankfully, Anthony seemed to have read your mind and was at your side as soon as he was able to fight through the jubilant throng.

The moment he reach you he took your hand in his. His expression was a mixture of awe and contrition, clearly unsure what to say to you.

"Good game," he praised. "Simon better watch out - I think Her Majesty will be asking you to captain her team next year."

"What a tremendous idea, Lord Bridgerton. I may just do that."

As if summoned by the very mention of her, a voice rang out clearly from behind you. Without even turning you knew exactly who was standing behind you, as the throng suddenly fell silent around you and parted like the Red Sea. In all the excitement you had failed to notice the Royal party making their way across the field to join in the celebrations.

With a gulp, you turned and dropped into the most respectful curtsey you could manage without falling flat on your face. "Y - your Majesty."

The Queen chuckled. "I must thank you, Lady Bridgerton, for providing such excitement to our proceedings today. I also must thank you for the twenty pounds I just procured off of Brimbsley - that’ll teach him to bet against me."

You merely dipped your head in gratitude, unsure whether this was actually happening or not. After all, the closest the you’d ever been to monarch was your hasty presentation several months ago and that had barely earned you more than a curious glance, like you had been some exotic animal on parade at the Zoo. And now, the Queen was addressing you? A lowly Stable Master’s daughter?

It was enough to make you feel as if this was all some kind of surreal dream.

"Anyone who bets against your Majesty deserves to be relieved of their coin."

"True, True," she preened, gesturing for you and everyone else to rise. "I gather you have played this game before?"

"Growing up around the Bridgertons ensured I had little alternative," you confirmed, relieved when the Queen proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly.

"I dare say you didn’t, my dear. Well, it certainly makes for a rather entertaining afternoon, as well as a victorious one. Perhaps we aught to have women playing more often." She turned her head and chose to direct her next words directly to your husband. "You’ve chosen quite the bride, Lord Bridgerton - you are to be congratulated on choosing such a spirited partner. I hope you realise how lucky you are."

"Indeed, your Majesty," Anthony replied, the earnestness clear in his eyes. "I’ve realised just how truly unique and remarkable she is… and how lucky I am that she chose to be on my team, even if not on the cricket pitch."

Another round of laughter echoed out at his declaration but you knew it was more than just a jest. In fact, by the all-too-clear pride radiating off of the eldest Bridgerton you knew what he truly meant with his honeyed praise.

It was all the apology you could need and had you not been in such company you’d have dragged him into the bushes and shown him just how much you forgave him. Besides, your victory on the Cricket pitch was enough pay-back for both of you.

As if sensing the amorous tension steadily rising around her, the Queen chose that moment to make a well-timed departure, in search of a refreshment. She barely gave you all a final nod before marching off to greet the rest of her guests, leaving you stood there with a rather gobsmacked expression on your face.

"Well… that really happened," you murmured, struggling to maintain your newfound confidence now that the whole saga had come to an end. "Did I actually just do that? Did the Queen actually just … talk to me?"

"She really did," Anthony confirmed, hands grazing yours nervously, as if unsure whether or not you’d accept his touch. However, your hands accepted his readily, fingers intertwining as you squeezed his palm in an obvious attempt to ground yourself. "You truly were incredible today - I know you don’t need to hear it but, for what it’s worth, I am proud of you."

"Thank you."

"And I truly am sorry for being such a world class fool, last night," he continued swiftly, clearly keen to make his apology whilst you were willing to receive it. "I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was embarrassed by you. I never could be. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I was vexed with my brothers and because of several other trivial matters, but I allowed my temper to get the better of me and I handled it poorly. I lashed out at the wrong person - the one person who deserves nothing less than to be told how incredible she is, every single day. I am unworthy of you, Y/N. I know no one else in the entire world so awe inspiring and to let you think otherwise for even a moment was my failing entirely. You are brave and smart and funny and kind and beautiful-"

"Ok, Anthony. I get it."

"-and I am unworthy of someone with such skill on the cricket pitch-"

"Anthony," you squealed, trying to hide your laughter as he pulled you into his arms and smothered your face in kisses. "It’s fine. I forgive you. After all, I also lost my temper and said some things I didn’t mean. Can we just agree we’re both sorry and put this mess behind us?"

"Yes! God yes," he sighed, looking like a weight had visibly lifted from his shoulder. "Because I really do not like fighting with you. Instead, I think we should be enjoying your victory parade. Today is your triumph, after all - the Queen’s champion."

"Hmmm, I rather like that title," you purred, gazing up at him. "But between us? I prefer being your wife, much much more."

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #Bridgerton

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thornsnvultures · 1 year

Text

laundry day

eddie munson x plus size!fem!reader

summary: eddie catches you reading something saucy at the laundromat while you wait for your load to finish.

cw: smut (18+, no minors), mutual pining, nipple play, fingering, lil bit of edging, teasing/cocky!eddie (in like a playful way, he's not mean)

a/n: thanks to @ozarkthedog for being super encouraging as always ❤

Just imagining running into Eddie at the laundromat. It's hot outside, a muggy 80 degrees, and he's in cut off jeans that he chopped himself and an Iron Maiden tee. There's industrial size fans blasting from the corners of the room, hanging from the ceiling. They feel like they're blowing hot air around the room more than anything.

When you walk in with your basket he's already there, playing with the claw machine they inexplicably installed at the beginning of summer. Like they didn't have enough machines here already that ate up all your quarters. His head turns briefly when you walk in and you awkwardly wave and say hi out of courtesy. Of course you almost drop your laundry bag but Eddie's surprisingly quick, catching it before it slips out of your hands.

"Careful there." His boyish grin is surprisingly disarming. You find yourself staring at his dimples for a moment too long.

"Right, sorry," you force out a laugh and try not to cringe. Eddie's a bit weird but hot in a way that makes you act a little stupid.

You pick a machine far away from the one that's already running, presumably his, so you don't have to sort out your under-things with him right next to you.

"C'mon, c'mon...Dammit!"

Looking up from your pile of clothes you see Eddie squat in front of the claw machine to put more coins in, the black bandana hanging from his pocket drags on the floor. You can't help but to watch, it's kind of entertaining. His tongue is poked out in concentration, his ringed fingers tapping the stick ever so slightly to nudge the crane into the perfect position. Eddie looks around the sides of the glass box to make sure he's lined up just right and smacks the button to make the grabber drop. He curses when it snags the plushie's arm but doesn't pull it free.

It's been a full minute and a half and you've been standing there holding the same pair of panties, watching him and not sorting a damn thing. You don't have anything else to do today but you can't stand there and ogle either. So you shake your head and get back to it, finally tossing in a load as he loses for the third time since you got here.

You sit down and crack open the book you brought. It looks like he's out of quarters now. You feel kinda bad, he seemed pretty excited about whatever's in there.

He's pacing around the room now, sitting still and waiting for something doesn't seem like a skill he has, and singing to himself. You never thought of Eddie Munson as a singer but you can hear him enough over the machines and he sounds...good.

It's impossible to read with him pacing the room looking like that. With his short sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, showing off all his tattoos. And the one on his thigh that you didn't see when you walked in, that one had to be new. You were starting to zone out, thinking about Eddie and his tattoos and your long, long week of working doubles. It was hard saving up enough to get out of this town but you were determined to do it. Even if it left you drained at the end of every week.

A loud bang in front of you had you nearly jumping out of your skin.

"Whatcha reading?"

Eddie smiled at you from atop the washing machine he was now sitting on. You looked down at the cover that he could clearly see, the racy cover showing a fair maiden being ravished by a swoon-worthy, shirtless pirate. With a gasp you closed the book and put it face down in your lap.

"Nothing. It's- I'm not even reading it really, just skimming."

"Looking for all the steamy bits, huh?"

Eddie's shit eating grin made your face feel hot and you sputtered, trying to think of anything that wouldn't make you seem like a weirdo basically reading porn in public.

"Is it any good?"

"What?"

"The book. Is it any good?"

"I, uh...it's okay," you mumbled, messing with the hem of your shorts instead of looking at him. You couldn't. Not with that blinding smile, those dimples and pretty brown eyes making your stomach flip more than any of the bodice-ripping going on between the pages in your lap.

"Just okay? What would make it better?"

Oh god, why is he doing this. You wish he had won the toy from the machine so he could play with that instead of you right now.

When you don't answer Eddie jumps down off the machine and grabs the book from your lap. He ignores your protests as he leafs through the pages.

"You're mine now," the Captain growls at my ear. "Not a prim, proper lady of society. Not aboard my ship."

Eddie's voice changes to that of a grissled pirate as he reads. It's shocking, at first the horror that he's actually reading your book out loud, then how you respond. Your thighs tighten and you swallow, your mouth suddenly gone dry. Eddie's whole posture changes. He stands taller, more confident, like he truly is a grim, dominating pirate who kidnapped Lord Quimbly's only daughter.

Captain Blackburn roughly pushed up my skirts, bending me over his massive oak desk. I'd never felt more exposed and completely at someone else's mercy. Before I knew it, his manhood was pressing into me there, breaking me, ruining me for all others.

"Okay, wait, hold on," Eddie's teasing grin and dramatic tone vanished by the end of the passage. His brows furrowed as his finger traced the page and he read it again to himself. "That's it? He's just whipping it out and going to town? Breaking and ruining her? Fuckin' hell. I see what you mean." Eddie shook his head, flipping through more of the book.

"I mean, it's not great. But aren't most dudes like that anyway?" You laugh but it's true, the dudes you've been with in the past haven't cared much for seeing to your needs. Eddie, however, looks personally offended.

"They shouldn't be."

Eddie handed you back your book, not that you wanted to go back to reading it now anyway.

"Are you like that?"

The question slipped out before you could stop it. And you felt like you already knew the answer.

"Am I like what?"

"Other guys."

Eddie's playful smirk was back. Maybe you did want to be a toy for him to play with after all.

"Want me to show you? Hmm?" Eddie reaches out with one ringed finger and tips your chin up to look at him. "Want me to take care of you like those other guys couldn't?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." Your eyes search his, for what you don't know. For him to tell you what you want so you don't have to admit to yourself you want him to rail you at the laundromat while no one's around? Maybe.

"Tell me. Tell me you want me to make you come."

"Yes. Please."

Your desperate little plea is all he needs to hear apparently because in the next second he's pulling you up on your feet and kissing you. Eddie's mouth is hungry on yours, devouring yours. Turning in his arms, you jump up on to the washing machine and pull him closer. The metal is a welcome cold against your sweat slick thighs and Eddie's even more welcome between them. You scoot to the edge of the machine to grind against the bulge pushing against his zipper.

"Please, Eddie." You don't mean to sound so whiny, but you want him to keep his promise. You want him to make you feel good, to make you come.

"Shh, I'm here. There's no one else. I've got you," his words whispered in between kisses along your neck makes your spine tingle. He's got that same air of dominance as when he was reading your book and it's got you soaking through your cotton shorts.

Eddie's hands massage your breast, tugging at your nipple until your writhing against him. The ridge of his denim covered cock provides just enough friction for you to come from just this. His lips leaving love bites where anyone can see, his fingers pulling and squeezing to the point of pain, a pain that shoots straight to your clit. Just one more second and he'd have you screaming, but all at once he pulls away.

"Eddie," you sob, "don't stop, please."

"I've barely touched you and you're almost in tears," his mocking tone would piss you off if his touch wasn't so gentle. Holding your face so delicately, pressing soft kisses to your jaw like he didn't just bring you to the edge only to pull you away.

"Please, Eddie."

"Love the way you beg for me. So pretty when you beg."

Eddie's nose rubs against your jaw, nuzzling against you like a cat. You wouldn't be surprised if he started purring.

He nudges your thighs open a little wider, squeezing them and groaning at the way his fingers dig into your flesh.

"Next time you're gonna let me get my face between these thighs, princess. It's already killing me not to sink my teeth into 'em."

"Next time?"

Eddie looks you dead in the eyes, watches them roll back, and cups your pussy over your shorts.

"Next time. Because this is mine now."

You kiss him again then because, fuck, no one's every looked at you like that. Like you were worth keeping, like you were worth a next time. No one's fucked you in an empty laundromat either, but it looked like Eddie was full of surprises.

"It's yours," you press your forehead to his, trying to stop your head from spinning. "Make me come."

Eddie slips his hand into your shorts and curses.

"No panties? You've been sitting here this whole time with no panties on?"

"Stop saying panties. And yes, it's laundry day," you shrug like it's no big deal, which it isn't, but Eddie looks like he's about to pop five different blood vessels.

"You're in so much trouble," he groans as his fingers slip down to your soaked cunt. Your hole clenches around his finger tip like it's begging for him to push it in and he listens. Eddie fills you up with one, then two of his thick fingers. Teasing, spreading, stretching you open until you're writhing again. Your hips twist in time with his palm rubbing against your clit and it's heaven. He feels so fucking good and you tell him over and over until you're not sure you're saying words anymore.

Anyone could walk in and see the two of you at any time and it only makes you squeeze tighter around his fingers. Getting caught like this, spread open for Eddie like a whore while he bullies your cunt with his fat fingers. You're ruined for anyone else. Not like your book, with its heroine terrified of ruination, of being seen as dirty or less than. No you're ruined for ever being treated as less than, for accepting that no man will take the time to make you feel as amazing as you feel right now.

"Eddie, I'm gonna- oh god."

Your legs shake, you're right there. Eddie pulls his soaking wet fingers from inside you and you want to fucking scream, but he taps your clit and starts rubbing furious circles over the oversensitive nub.

"Come for me, show me."

His deep voice in your ear and the relentless pressure on your clit have you flying off the edge. Your body tensing, folding in on itself, all the air rushing out of your lungs as you implode from your release.

And Eddie holds you and kisses you and wipes his fingers on his shirt which should be gross but you don't care. It's laundry day, anyway.

"I meant it. You're mine. Not letting you tiptoe around me anymore."

"I don't tiptoe," you mumble into his neck. Your legs wrap around his waist as he settles between your thighs again. He's still painfully hard but it seems like he's fine with you clinging to him like a koala for now.

The washer buzzes under you, making you jump. Eddie doesn't want to let you go at first, but you give him an ultimatum that kicks his butt into gear.

"Help me finish my laundry and I'll blow you in your van." You look up at him through your lashes and laugh when he scrambles to pull you off the machine.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x plus size!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagines #my fics

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paintingwhiteceilings · 3 months

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❃First Dates with Seventeen❃

I am back from the grave and come bearing delulu gifts. I should have been working on my thesis, but today was rough, so I decided to fantasise about romance instead. It is to make up for my non-existent love life; here is to being perpetually single!

Scoups/Seungcheol

❀ This man goes all out for the first date; nothing is too expensive for him as he wants you to feel like a queen at the end. Coups will rent out a theme park for the two of you within a heartbeat the moment you mention that you love roller coasters.

❀ That being said, he strikes me as someone who loves to combine luxury with pampering, doing something that is very relaxing and allows you two to focus on getting to know each other through deep conversations. Coups will probably take you to an expensive and exclusive restaurant, paying a little extra to sit in a more excluded area where no one can interrupt or overhear you.

❀ You two end up talking until the restaurant closes, barely paying attention to the Michelin-star meal that gets served. After you get kicked out, he will not want to let you go just yet, asking you to go on a walk to "digest the food."

❀ He definitely would be the type of member to invite you over to spend the night together, either to continue the conversation or to explore the relationship more physically. However, he would only take the next step if you make the first move or clearly verbalize to him that you want to. Of course, it is because Coups is respectful of your boundaries and it is absolutely not due to him being way too nervous to initiate anything himself.

Jeonghan

❀ Jeonghan strikes me as someone who would take you on a cosy date. Similarly to Coups, he would focus more so on conversation, preferring it over getting to know each other by doing an activity together. Still, as he doesn't want to come over as someone who only invites you over to his place to Netflix and Chill, he does put a lot of effort into the date.

❀ Jeonghan would probably create an indoor picnic, setting up a bunch of pillows and blankets for you two to comfortably lay on. The dress code: pyjamas; it is all about being super comfortable. It would remind you of the many sleepovers you used to have as a child, but more romantic. You two would play silly games, talk about everything and nothing, do some facemasks together and eat so much good food. It would be such a blast.

❀ He would not make a move on the first date; he already was quite bold by inviting you over to his place for the first date, and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. Unless you decide to kiss him, he will keep a respectful distance from you the entire time. The most he would do is hold your hand to do some pseudo-palm reading he found online.

Joshua

❀Welcome to the best date of your life. Joshua is the best dater in the world, and nobody can convince me otherwise. This man would walk straight out of a fairy tale book with him in the starring role of Prince Charming. It would not be above him to hire a horse and carriage, snuggling up together as you ride through some magical fairy tale forest, with both of you dressed to the nines.

❀ Still, Joshua strikes me as someone who would plan a crafting date; he would either take you to a pottery class or take you to make some bracelets. Joshua would suggest that you both make something for the other. It is quite a smart move on his part; you would have to continuously ask the other questions to figure out their design preferences. Plus, at the end of the date, you both will have a keepsake to commemorate the time you spent together.

❀The only thing this gentleman is kissing is your hand as a greeting. There will be no handholding either; he will only accidentally touch your hand when he hands something over to you. You would have to go on at least five dates before he even considers kissing you. He is a good Christian boy (who fears the wrath of God).

Jun

❀ Jun is too socially awkward to have a date that is conversation focussed. He needs something to distract you from his rambling and the painful silences. Instead, to avoid running out of conversation topics, he decides to do something fun together, where he can be in his element. He is taking you to a petting zoo.

❀ Although things are painfully awkward at the beginning of the date, his shyness immediately vanishes when he spots all the rabbits and goats running around the petting zoo. He might (accidentally) forget you are there for a moment as he pets a sheep that keeps sniffing at his shoes. However, he will enthusiastically start introducing you to all his favourite animals upon remembering you are there, too. Turns out, this particular petting zoo is his regular spot.

❀ He would 1000% compare you to his favourite chicken.

❀ Will this man touch you during or at the end of the date? Absolutely not. He will ramble on and on about all the cute animals once he is comfortable, but if you do as much as graze his arm with yours, he will go back to painfully shy Jun, and you would have to place a guinea pig in his arms to get him talking again.

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ Although Hoshi becomes the most chaotic person alive once he is comfortable around someone, he would be painfully shy during a first date. He has to do something with you because he can't stand the awkward silences that he will inevitably let fall. Thus, to no one's surprise, he will take you to do something incredibly active. Hoshi spent so much time trying to come up with something unique, but in the end, he settled for something that made him feel comfortable, namely a one-on-one dancing lesson.

❀ It genuinely would be so much fun. At first, Hoshi is incredibly shy, barely touching you to correct your posture, blushing whenever meets your eyes. As time goes on, he slowly becomes more comfortable and daring, interacting with you and touching you more boldly. The dancing grounds him, reminding him that he's got this and that he is in his element.

❀ Still, Hoshi reverts to being shy when the music ends, now panicking over every single time he has had to put his hand on your waist to steady you. He wouldn't be able to make it through a single sentence without tripping over his words as he gets haunted by flashbacks of the times his bold, performing self touched you. So yeah, he is mortified by his actions.

❀ Needless to say, he wouldn't be kissing you goodnight.

Wonwoo:

❀ He would be another member mortified at the thought of having to keep a conversation going during a date. Wonwoo took his sweet time with an actual plan for a date; he didn't actually expect to get this far. Thus, he has been bothering Mingyu to help him out with date ideas that would not highlight his introversion. On Mingyu's advice, he decides to do something that he is good at and would enjoy. He takes you to a gaming cafe.

❀ Whether you are good at gaming or not, he makes sure that he has a list of fun multiplayer games for you two to play that aren’t too complicated. You have fun running a restaurant together in 'PlateUp!' before he convinces you to play 'It Takes Two' together, using the story to create a wholesome and romantic atmosphere. The best part is that the game is too long to finish in one playthrough, making it easier for him to ask you out on a second and third date. It gives you plenty to talk about, too; how can you not discuss the Cutie the Elephant scene?

❀ It would all go so well, all until he has walked you to your door. He gets so nervous about potentially kissing you goodnight that, instead, he shakes your hand, all businesslike, telling you it was a good one. It takes him a solid five seconds to realize what he is doing and for him to turn bright red. Luckily, you find it funny, agreeing it was a good one. He was ready to drop all contact with you and change his entire identity if you hadn't laughed.

Woozi

❀ It isn't that Woozi is incredibly nervous about your date; he is actually very much looking forward to it. However, he genuinely does not know what you two can do together, as he literally never leaves his house. The members aren't much help either; they either make fun of him for finally deciding to go outside or tell him to do some wild activity that he really can't imagine doing. They keep reminding him that he can't bring you to the gym or bring you along to the studio as he works. Apparently, that isn't romantic.

❀ It is Jeonghan who surprisingly helps him out by recommending doing a movie marathon or binge-watching a series together. Jeonghan even helps him decorate the living room with candles, making it all nice and romantic. Not that the atmosphere would be very romantic, though; you decided to put on a Marvel show, and now you are having a lore-heavy discussion trying to connect all the stories. You two even brought out a notebook so you could draw a mind map of the different plot points and storylines.

❀ Despite all the romantic lyrics that he writes, Woozi wouldn't know what to do when you tell him you have to go. He is overthinking everything as you get up to grab your coat and get ready to leave. Should he walk you home? Should he kiss you? As you are about to close the door behind you, he would muster up the courage to ask you what he should do. Woozi is very embarrassed about it, but he would rather risk looking stupid as he asks you how a date is supposed to end than end up doing the wrong thing.

❀ Well, answer wisely.

DK/Seokmin

❀ DK is way too excited to be going on a date with you. In fact, he has so many date ideas that he decided to do all of them at once, in one go. It might not be the best idea, but DK is not thinking clearly. He is too distracted by his enthusiasm, only thinking about how he gets to go on a date with you. You should be concerned when he asks you to bring multiple outfits; each outfit fits a different date activity.

❀ The date starts out fun as he brings you to the zoo. You spent some time laughing at the monkeys and taking pictures together at the animal cut-outs. However, after not even an hour has passed, DK is already dragging you to the next activity he has planned. In one date, you guys visit a waterpark, do a scavenger hunt, go bowling and go ice skating. It is honestly not surprising that when DK leans over to talk to you, he discovers that you have fallen asleep during the movie. He realises that maybe he asked a bit too much of you and guiltily lets you catch up on some sleep.

❀ DK is genuinely convinced that you never want to see him again, being incredibly quiet as he walks you home. When he voices as much, you surprise him by kissing his cheek and telling him you had fun, though you would prefer maybe not to do five activities during one date. He will not shut up about it during dance practice for weeks.

Mingyu

❀ A date with Mingyu really depends on who he is taking on a date and what he thinks would fit that person best. He is such a people person that he will come up with a date idea that is fun for the both of you. If he gets to decide, though, I can see him choosing between two widely different date ideas, depending on his mood.

❀ On the one hand, I can see Mingyu opting for something romantic. For instance, I can see him inviting someone over so that he can cook for them. He would have you seated across from where he is cooking, trying his hardest to impress you with his cooking skills. It would be such an intimate setting: just you two, sitting in the quiet kitchen as the evening grows darker, chatting as you sip your glass of wine. The food would be delicious, and the flirting unrivalled.

❀ On the other hand, Mingyu strikes me as someone who would also love to go on a lighthearted and fun date, focusing on having a good time together. There wouldn't be anything sensual about it; you two would be cracking up the entire time. For some reason, I can see him taking his date to play mini-golf. Not only would it be hilarious every time one of you launches the ball in the wrong direction, but it would also give him an excuse to touch you as he tries to 'help.'

❀ Mingyu would definitely end the date not so innocently if you give him the okay sign. And, let's be fair, chances are that you would; he is too fine not to and after all that flirting...

The8/Minghao

❀ Minghao would put a lot of thought into the date, even going as far as planning it before he asked you out. Minghao is painfully aware that you make him nervous and that he can't afford to slack on the date activity; at least when there is an awkward silence because he doesn't know what to say, you would have something pretty to look at. Thus, he makes sure to go over his plan at least five times, asking the other members for second opinions that he will ultimately disregard when he goes with his original idea.

❀ All in all, his first date ideas all have something creative and peaceful. He wants to create an atmosphere that is relaxing and fosters deep conversations. He, for instance, would opt to organize a painting date where he will show off his painting skills, taking you to a scenic nature look-out where you can spend your afternoon eating the food he prepared in a picnic basket, chatting as you try to capture the beautiful forest scene in front of you.

❀ Another first date that I can see him taking you on is stargazing. Minghao would prepare a ton of cosy blankets and pillows that soften the hard ground you otherwise would have had to lay on. Instead of pointing out existing constellations, you would try to come up with your own. It would be so serene with the silence only broken by your conversation, held in soft, quiet whispers. If the moment is right, he would lean in for a kiss, hiding the redness of his face in the dark of the night.

Seungkwan

❀ Seungkwan initially felt so much pressure to organize the best date ever. He has his reputation as 'one of the funniest members of Seventeen' to uphold and wants you to have an amazing time. Similarly to some of the other members, Seungkwan has several different first date ideas that he would choose from depending on his date and mood. Mostly, I can see him doing something very active as it would help him focus less on his nerves and more on being in the moment.

❀ Seungkwan would, for instance, take you on a hike, using it as an excuse to have deep conversations as you enjoy the beautiful, warm summer day. He loves to walk and talk, using the hike to grow closer. You two would bring along some food, stopping at picturesque scenes to enjoy lunch as you share your life stories.

❀ I can also imagine Seungkwan taking you to see a volleyball match or to play volleyball. He adores the sport and would probably want to share his love for the game with you. Despite being incredible at ball games, he would be incredibly gentle with you, making sure that you don't accidentally injure yourself. Plus, he gets to show off his incredible skills.

❀ He would be another member who is too shy to initiate anything physical. It would be on his mind constantly, but he wouldn't get past his overthinking thoughts. He will keep a healthy, respectful distance unless you decide to initiate skinship.

Vernon

❀ I can't, for the love of me, imagine Vernon on a serious date. This man's entire vocabulary consists of memes, and I am sure he will get inspired by some wacky internet post to do something weird. Instead of doing something romantic or typical date-like, he would go for something outside the box. Sure, he loves movies and could do a cliche movie date, but where is the fun in that?

❀ After watching a popular ghost-hunting video, he decides it would be a good idea to go on a ghost-hunting date together. He even bought specialized ghost-hunting tools so that you could communicate with the spirits. It is a bit of a waste of money; he probably will never use them again (unless you are not utterly horrified by the end of it and would want to go on another ghost-hunting date). Most people wouldn't consider an abandoned prison romantic (and neither did you), but at least it is a fun, never-been-done-before first date.

❀ You now made a new friend, a ghost called Dave, who apparently likes pizza, that the spirit box picked up on the second floor's hallway. Another ghost, who kept repeating the words 'toilet' and 'cereal', decided to briefly join your date when you walked into one of the cellblocks. Overall, you don't have conclusive proof that ghosts exist by the end of it, but the date went well.

❀ This man is oblivious to date etiquette; when you ask whether he wants to spend the night, he thinks you are asking him whether he wants to spend the night at the abandoned prison. You might be regretting that you asked as you now are terrified, trying to sleep in a sleeping bag next to a knocked-out Vernon on the cold prison floor.

Dino/Chan

❀ Poor Dino does not know what to do with your first date, paralysed from fear at the thought that he will do something stupid. He has been staring at a wall these past few days, racking his brain as he tries to come up with something to impress you. Part of him wants to ask his members for help, but Dino knows that if he did, they would never let him live it down.

❀ Inspiration, however, strikes him over dinner the day before you are supposed to be going on a date. Dino is running around like a headless chicken, trying to plan whatever he can in time for the big day. Unfortunately, it takes him hours to arrange everything, forcing him to stay up well into the early hours of the next day. Hence, when Dino decides to close his eyes for just a second, he completely sleeps through his alarms. If it hadn't been for his members waking him up, he would have also slept through your entire date.

❀ The good news is that the members texted you to let you know in advance, and that you are gracious enough to still agree to the date. The bad news is that Dino's hard work has been for nought as the reservations have long passed. He feels incredibly guilty, but you reassure him that things like these happen.

❀ Instead of letting the mishap ruin the date further, you convince him to join you at the local playground. You spend the entire afternoon running around, playing games from your childhood and going down the slide. Your dinner consists of some snacks from a convenience store. It is wonderful.

masterlist

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padfootagain · 5 months

Text

Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more…

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier oneshot #hozier fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #oneshot

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 8 months

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Halloween prompts year 2, day 1

Danny had no idea what he was doing. There. He admitted it. He had found a book of spells that reminded him of Sam and stole it on instinct. He didn't have much money after running away. He didn't even have the chance to grab one of his Go Bags as his parents fired on him.

Good news was that ghost powers made it very easy to steal stuff. Now with a book that has actual magic spells in it? He'd never go hungry again! It was kinda weird though. New dimension or not he didn't think a grocery store would sell multiple copies of spellbooks just out in the open like this. They were clearly new and a product or modern manufacturing so it wasn't like it was some ancient relic or anything.

Hmm. A mystery for later then. In the meantime he was going to go around Gotham turning rogues and random jerks into frogs! It went pretty well. There was a mass Arkham breakout not too long ago and Danny was having an absolute blast sneaking up and froggifying people while wearing a cheap glittery devil masquerade mask. Once suitable frogged he trapped them in a magic bubble and left them on the rooftops for the bats to find.

This went awry however when one of the local vigilantes, Robin, tried to attack him from above. On reflex he turned Robin into a frog and freaked out, "Okay. Crud. Okay. I can fix this!" He said while picking up the tiny vigilante, "Just promise not to hurt me and i'll turn you back!"

The angry ribbiting told him that the vigilante would agree to no such thing, "In that case," Danny used his ghost powers to make a human sized ice cage and placed the frog inside. The cages bars were thin but sturdy. It would take Robin only a few good hits to break out of it but by that time the mysterious magic user would have had a head start.

Unfortunately, Danny had just started the spell that would turn Damian back when one of his siblings, Tim, got the jump on him...and got similarly froggy for it. Now there were two frogged bats and a startled magic user.

Danny looked up at the rooftops to see more and more bats staring at him. And the just froggified Red Robin. And the frog version of regular Robin. In a cage. This looked bad. After dodging a batarang Danny apologized to the frogs and quickly yelled, "Not today satan!" At batman before dropping a smoke bomb and teleporting away.

Later at the batcave Damian and Tim were placed in different enclosures to keep their new forms healthy and to prevent any frog on frog violence as they sort this out. At first they thought this was a meta who could turn people into frogs but that was quickly ruled out due to Damian and Tim both typing on devices and telling them about the ice powers.

Thus begins Danny's attempts to find the frogged siblings and turn them back before he gets stabbed by an angry bird and Robin and Red Robins attempts to escape to find this magic user cause it was clear that he had cursed them by accident and had wanted to turn them back right away.

They're family keeps trying to stop them though saying its too dangerous to go out as a frog and they don't know what that magic users intentions were. They didn't really have much choice however seeing at Constantine couldn't help them.

The trench coated brit and said this magic was like nothing he had ever felt before and he would have to do some research. Which lead to the boys swinging across rooftops as amphibians and probably making more than a few people question what was in thier coffee.

#halloween prompts #prompts #fanfiction prompts #dp x dc #danny fenton #danny phantom #tim drake #robin #damian wayne #red robin #yum #magic #danny is going to get caught up in a custody battle isnt he?#adoption bait danny

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dreamsontheirway · 1 year

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Cardigan | S.R.

Summary: the cold AC in the building causes the reader to have a... bodily response, and Spencer is protective. Warnings: nipples? Word Count: 0.7k

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It was a hot, summer day for Virginia, whose climate often didn’t exceed the high 70s. Today it fell around an unusual 85, and the BAU was clearly not used to it. The AC was turned up to max cool in the office and although it felt nice, you had the occasional shiver spike down your spine.

You had chosen a short sleeve maroon colored top today, and it was on the tighter side. You always felt warmer with additional fabric, so you thought the figure-hugging top would cool you off as opposed to something loose-fitting. It certainly had done its job, but your lack of a jacket or cardigan had resulted in the amplification of a certain feature on your chest.

You had noticed, obviously, and shifted uncomfortably each time you saw them. That’s something women unfortunately are forced to think about. Additionally, not that you had to wear a bra, but you were wearing one, it just happened to be quite thin. Once again, your choice was determined by the temperature outside. You couldn't have guessed that the BAU would choose to have the AC on its fullest blast.

Luckily for you, you worked with professionals. Even if they noticed your compromised situation, it wasn't like anyone was going to say anything. Or even care all too much, for that matter. You decided to let it go, and continue your work. They were just nipples; everyone had them.

Spencer Reid felt differently about the situation. He had first noticed the fact that you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Then he noticed the occasional shivers on your bare arms. After that is when he caught sight of the small peaks protruding from your chest as a direct result of the chill air.

Spencer had blushed, despite having seen that area of your body with less clothing on than now. He felt uncomfortable thinking about the intimate moments he shared with you whilst at the workplace. Further, he found himself feeling protective of you, as well as those precious moments. The thought of someone else merely considering these private parts of you left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

At first, Spencer observed the situation, not wanting to make a scene and embarrass you more than he could assume you already were. He would have lent you something to cover up with, but he too dressed minimally for the weather.

Spencer continued his work, occasionally sneaking a glance at you just to make sure you were still okay. As Spencer looked up once again, he noticed an intern walk through the bullpen. The intern was young; he must have been in his very early twenties. Spencer didn't recognize him and he assumed he must be from a different department.

Spencer blatantly observed the young male practically gawk and drool at your chest as he approached you. He stopped and began chatting with you about something Spencer could not see. The young genius could feel his face heat up with irritation and annoyance.

Spencer was steadily growing irate and he seriously considered giving you the shirt off his own back. Then he remembered -- he had a cardigan in his bottom desk drawer. He had put it in his drawer of miscellaneous items back in the winter. Just in case, he had recalled thinking. He mentally gave his past self kudos for remembering to leave it there.

He quickly unlocked the bottom drawer and snatched the tan, knitted cardigan from its depths and beelined to you.

"Hi darling," Spencer cooed, and draped the cardigan over your shoulders. He took it a step further and pulled either side of the article of clothing across your torso, covering your chest.

You were taken aback. Spencer was typically too shy to use pet names to refer to you, unless it was just the two of you. His assertiveness in covering the exposed part of you filled your body with a familiar warmth.

Spencer stared at the intern, his jaw clenched. The young man got the message and politely said goodbye to you.

You turned around in your rolling chair, evidently unwrapping yourself from Spencer's grasp.

"What," you began, blushing. "What was that?"

Spencer opened and closed his mouth. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he was bashful.

"I could tell you were uncomfortable earlier with your," he paused, "with your situation, and I just didn't like the way he was looking at you."

You smiled at your boyfriend, appreciating his thoughtfulness. He was right; you had been uncomfortable, and you cherished his ability to notice these intricacies. You pulled the warm cardigan across your chest again, like Spencer had done moments ago.

"Thank you."

"Yeah," Spencer murmured meekly, "anytime."

-----

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littyhoney · 1 year

Text

Right Person,Wrong Time. (part 2)

BIG SPOILER WARNING TO ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE!!

Earth 42 Miles Morales x Reader

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Chapter summary: It has been a year and Miles can’t seem to move on from Gwen…how much longer can you take for always be in the dark? But little did you know someone is waiting in the dark for you..

Warning: Spoilers for the movie Across the Spider-verse, long chapter,heavy Angst

p/s: if some of you are confuse if this is Miles 1610 fic or Miles 42 its Miles 42 but the chapters are for build ups for extra pain hehe enjoy! also i try my best to make it gender neutral <3

You walk through the sidewalk making your way to Miles apartment with bluetooth headphones on both of your hand in your pockets of your hoodie to keep you warm from the chilling air, In your ears is blasting a music from the Weeknd-Call out my name.

It has been a year…for that whole year you have been there for Miles again and again and again… and every single time you fail to win Miles over. You been very vague of your feeling towards Miles but the boy seems to be too focus on someone else..Gwen Stacy. You have try to let him know that you’re there! Not her,whenever he is down you’re there to comfort him,not Gwen. Whenever he is in trouble you would cover for him, you become so selfless over him not wanting to see him get hurt..but who will care for you? Protect you? You just don’t know…

You walk over the steps leading up to the Morales front door and knock on it as you pull your headphones off. You hear the door unlock and open for you to see Mrs Morales “Hey mama Rio,is Miles here? He didn’t answer his phone”

“Really? Oh well he is in his room, come in dear its cold outside”The woman smiles as she close the door behind you as you walk in, clearly you know where miles get such a warm smile from “Thanks Mama Rio”you smile at the woman taking your hoodie off.

“Oh dear I almost forgot that we be making a party up at the rooftop,its uh a celebration for Jeff becoming the next captain”You look at her with a big smile before let out a chuckle, you knew that Jeff is a good cop who always keeping the city safe “Congrats! Wow! Uh il make sure to come by the party, thanks for the invite Mama Rio”you walk towards Miles door “Anytime dear”the woman speaks before focus back to her Tv show.

You knock on the door to Miles room before a muffle come in speaks from inside the room,you open the door and lean on the door frame with a small smirk “Sup coco head”looking at Miles who is sitting at his desk with his headphones on.

Miles yelp when he turn around to see you by the door before he rip his headphones off his head turning towards you “Geez (N/n) I though you were my mom” Miles sigh before he slump back on his seat “Wait why are you here?”he tilt his head looking at you.

You sigh as you drop your head before push yourself up from the door frame walking towards Miles and pull out your phone showing him the miss calls and unread messages "You promise to hang out today at the park,remember? you told me over the phone yesterday for basketball?”you feel slightly annoyed now knowing he keeps forgetting his promises these past months but you still have sympathy over him,since he been over his head lately.

Miles sit up straigh before looking up at you,guilt drawn all over his face “I-Im sorry man I forgot it’s just ‘sigh’ a lot of things have been going on in my head lately”

“oh,what happened? don’t tell me you got in trouble again Miles”you said with a slight frown drawn on your face looking down at him. Miles head snap back to you shaking his head “noo nono”he laugh nervously as he try to convinve you,clearly he is in trouble.

“Miles..”you look at him squinting your eyes at him frow drawn on your eyebrows. Miles sigh defeated before he held his head in his hand on the table “I uhh..okay..the principal wants to see me and my parents tomorrow..”

You look at him in shock before you held your hand on your waist “But I though you aced the exam Miles,are the notes from me and Ganke not enough to cover it??” you ask him,still in disbelief. Since both of you are busy going in and out of the class for emergency moments,both of you mostly rely on notes to pass the exam,you mostly write your own notes but Miles always share Ganke’s notes with you.

Miles shake his head before leaning back on the chair “I don’t know (Y/n) clearly something is up and right now im in..shambles man. Nothing makes sense to me anymore,after wearing that mask everything is just on my shoulder”the boy is clearly burned out by all of his responsibilities..being a son,a student and a hero. He seems to think that everything and everyone relys on him while he can’t rely on anyone…but how wrong is he.

You shake your head slightly,moving near him as you lean on the chair looking down at him “Miles…youre not alone in this,I know that being a hero is such a big responsibility but…im here for you man”your eyes soften “You can rely on me anytime Miles…heck if you want I can do the patrol stuff for a week if you ask me to man” you let out a chuckle,this boy really have a soft spot on you.

Miles shake his head his face still frowning before he says “But you’re not her (Y/N), you’re...not Gwen”he look up at you.

You look at him…blink a few times letting his words sink in to you,you move yourself away from him,walking backwards before a soft chuckle escape your lips “are you for real Miles..? Gwen?”your brows frown mouth agape not believing what you just have heard..

Miles begin to talk again but you quickly cut him off “No man I heh…well she’s not here is she? Im here for you Miles,from the beginning to hear your problems a-and to cover your freaking ass everytime man..”your voice cracked as you try to talk out through the choking “im the one who is taking hits for you,the one who always have to sit there listening you calling for someone who is not here”you hiss out the word at him..tears building up making everything you see is blurry but you blink away the tears as much as you can..

“Youre not the only one who wears the mask Miles,but I put you above myself everytime so that I know you’re okay…but you’re here telling me that you want someone else to stand here….am I not enough for you Miles?”you point to yourself,your heart cracks at every sob that you try to surpress.

“(N/n) I..”Miles stand up trying to reach for your arm but you held out your hand stopping him. You rub your nose with your other hand letting out a sniff before your cracked voice speaks “No..no Miles..im just gonna go…tell your dad I said congrats”you said as you walk out of his room taking your hoodie that you put on the hanger walking out of the main door and close it.… you lean your back on the door as you finally let the tears running down your cheek…

To be continued.

(Woah what a chapter huh,part 3 soon..)

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@usernamepassowrd-blog @marimo331 @rinouko @chims-kookies

@rinisfruity14 @gasoline-eater @bath1lda @kiranishi @blep24

@dani111

#miles morales x reader #prowler miles #miles morales #miles morales fanfiction

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chelseeebe · 10 months

Text

menswear.

been wanting to write a menswear inspired lil ficcy for sooo so long n to celebrate the fact that i will finally hear it live after 9 years i thought this was a great time

a/n: i just wanna write a disclaimer that i am british and tend to britain-ise my writing so if it seems off for an american wedding don’t bite me x it’s ovulation week which is the only way i can explain this if i’m honest

summary: meeting steve at an old friend’s wedding could really only lead to one thing, couldn’t it?

18+. smut. alcohol and drug use. steve is a mess. no use of y/n!

steve’s still drunk from the night before, his tie crooked and one of the buttons on his shirt is uneven. he looked even more disheveled than he felt.

he hadn’t been keen on the idea of going to the wedding of his ex girlfriend and the man who essentially took her from him. not that he blames jonathan of course, he wasn’t exactly the gold standard boyfriend. he had his faults and would quite happily admit to them.

but still, it was confusing and weird and he’d tried to get out of it but robin had quite frankly insisted that he be there or else he was a terrible person.

so, as all sensible people would, he got absolutely fucking blasted the night before. he hadn’t meant to get so drunk but catching up with old friends and the kids he once looked after, had lead to him being carried off to his room by his best friend who was mumbling a bunch of profanities under her breath.

he still stank of booze, christ even he could smell it. it lingered on his body despite the twenty minute cold shower he had forced himself through this morning. there had been an attempt to style his hair but it mostly hung around his face in limp strands.

did you know the best way to beat a hangover is to keep drinking? hair of the dog and that. at least, that’s what he was telling himself. nursing a double whisky at the hotel bar at stupid o’clock this morning.

he didn’t have robin to hang off today, left to his own devices as she’d been recruited into the bridal party. her one track mind focussed on nancy and not her absolute failure of a best friend.

the venue was nice, a tad unorthodox and not where he’d choose to get married but it fit the strange pairing in a nice way. slinking up the cold stone of the aisle, trying to find his reserved seat among the crowds of people.

max pulls him into one of the rows, shoving him down on the empty seat with a small scowl on her face. she’d seen him struggling from her seat and had so graciously gone to help the poor man.

‘thanks.. max,’ he groans, nodding at the girl a she settles into his seat, honestly just hoping that the service would go quick so he could resume his pitiful drinking.

he sighs, thumbing through the programme. smiling slightly as he reads the officiants name, el hopper. they had just had to make this the strangest wedding he’d ever have the pleasure of attending.

‘do you know the bride or groom?’ your voice speaks from beside him, it’s the first time he’s realised that he’s actually sat next to anyone and he’s actually not in his own little world of misery.

‘huh?’ he asks, looking up to meet your eyes.

you’re smiling, looking as spritely as he wished he felt. clearly some people hadn’t got wasted the night before. amateurs.

‘do you know the bride or groom? sorry- i don’t really know anyone here,’ giving him a shy chuckle as your cheeks flush, maybe you would have to dip after the ceremony.

‘oh.. oh no, i know both of them.. nancy’s my ex girlfriend,’ he wants to kick himself because what on earth had compelled him to say something like that.

‘oh wow..’ you laugh, ‘not awkward at all then,’ kissing the back of your teeth.

‘it’s actually not.. not really,’ he shrugs, shuffling in his chair to face towards you properly, ‘i mean, if i had a choice i probably would’ve skipped but.. what can you do?’

‘right.. still, i don’t envy you,’ smoothing down the creased material of your dress, a deep green to match the earthy tones of the wedding.

‘d’you wanna know my secret to weddings?’ he smiles, leaning in.

‘mhm hit me.’

‘you just gotta get as drunk as humanly possible and they’re actually not so bad..’

‘isn’t it like..’ you check your wrist watch, ‘it’s noon,’ breaking into a giggle.

‘and that is why i started last night,’ tapping his finger on his temple, he was a genius really.

he wasn’t new to this game. having been forced to a plethora of fancy weddings with his parents and the wave of weddings from high school friends, he was wise to all the tricks in which made weddings bearable.

‘well, i might have to join you.. i don’t know anybody here,’ looking around at the hordes of strangers milling around the large room.

‘why are you here then?’ immediately wincing at his choice of words, ‘shit no.. i meant, do you know nancy? or jonathan? or have you snuck in?’

you giggle again and it’s music to his ears. sat next to a pretty girl who finds him funny? maybe today couldn’t be all that bad after all.

‘i know nancy.. we were roommates at emerson, she’s like.. the only person i’ve kept in contact with.’

he nods, going to speak but is abruptly interrupted by the sound of the organ chiming. your cue to actually start paying attention to the ceremony at hand. he turns his attention to the alter, exhaling heavily.

‘i’m so sorry.. i never asked your name,’ whispering with his body still facing the front, but completely leaning his shoulder into yours.

oh this wedding was about to be so much fun.

you had taken steve’s advice, who’s name you had now learnt, immediately downing a glass of champagne when you got to the reception. hey, if you were going to have to meet a thousand new people tonight, you’d have to be a little buzzed to do it.

it’s no surprise you’ve been shoved onto the singles table, finding your name on the board and slinking off to your corner of the banished. steve already sat slumped over at his seat which was suspiciously next to yours again. he totally hadn’t swapped out stacey’s name card for yours.. never.

you slide into the chair, ‘we have got to stop meeting like this,’ gently nudging his elbow with yours as to not alarm him.

‘huh,’ he smiles, eyes glistening, ‘it must be fate,’ swivelling on the chair to give you his attention.

‘must be,’ raising your eyebrows ever so slightly.

he’s nursing what must be his fifth? sixth? drink, this time opting for something a little more socially acceptable with a beer. if it weren’t an open bar he’d offer to buy you a drink but it seemed a little cheap.

‘so, where are you from?’ he’s utterly intrigued by you, desperate to know everything there is to know.

‘denver and then boston.. for college and now i’m in cincinnati for my job,’ you shrug, feeling immensely coy under his gaze, ‘i take it you’re from indiana like nancy?’

she had spoken about how people mostly stayed in their small town, they’d meet someone in high school and fall into the suburban family life without ever realising it. and then before they knew it, it was too late and they were stuck there. she was determined to not do that.

‘yeah..’ he sounds deflated, thinking of the place he called home, ‘but it’s home i guess..’ he taps on the table, ‘what d’ya do for work?’

‘i’m an editor at a publishing house,’ his expression says that he doesn’t entirely understand, ‘i work with a lot of writers and basically tell them what to do,’ that was the very basic premise of your role but you’d gathered that he probably didn’t actually care much.

‘oh wow.. so you’re boss lady then?’ swigging on the now-warm liquid, he’s listening intently to whatever comes out of your mouth.

‘hah.. not quite,’ fiddling with the tiny name plaque in front of you, ‘one day.. hopefully,’ you were never a fan of talking about yourself, ‘so what do you do?’

he rolls his eyes playfully, ‘work for my dad, i didn’t get into college soo.. he gave me a job,’ eyes wandering to the guests now joining your table, ‘but really i’m just a glorified assistant and even that’s being generous,’ playing off his disappointment with a small laugh.

‘well that doesn’t sound too bad..’ picking up on his demeanour, ‘shall we get another drink before we have to sit through the awful speeches?’

his pretty pink lips curl into a smirk, ‘i like your thinking,’ standing from the table with his hand offered out for you to hold.

‘i-i’ll say a couple words.. c’mon,’ he grins, stepping up towards the small stage, hopper reluctantly passes the mic over to steve, watching apprehensively as he climbs onto the stage.

robin sighs, this could really only go one way and she sure as hell did not want to be in the room to witness it.

there’s a chance that you two had slightly overdone it with the free bar.. you wince watching him up on the stage. the opinions of these people meant absolutely nothing to you but quite obviously did to him.

‘as you all know.. nancy is my ex girlfriend-,’ there’s a collective groan from the audience, ‘but.. but no, that’s not what i came to say.. i wanted to say that-,’ he hiccups into the microphone, ‘that the first time i properly spoke to jonathan, he beat my ass and fuck did it hurt,’ chuckling to himself, ‘but that ass kicking actually.. and you won’t believe it, but it made me a better person and y’know what.. i’m really happy for you,’ he thrusts his glass into the air, ‘so, please join me in a toast to our newly weds.. you deserve it,’ turning to face the cringing couple at the table.

nancy gives him a small smile, it wasn’t exactly shakespearean but the sentiment was nice and he hadn’t embarrassed himself or fallen off the stage head first so she was going to take it as a win.

‘thank you, steve,’ jonathan nods, steve’s sure he can see a tiny smile on his face despite the lousy speech he’d just given.

hopper claps him on the back as he gets off of the stage, taking a mental note to keep an eye on the boy for the rest of the evening. the free bar may not have been the wisest decision after all.

steve collapses into his chair, immediately leaning into you, ‘that was good, right?’ taking a sip of his drink.

‘uh.. yeah, maybe didn’t need to mention the ex girlfriend thing buuut.. i don’t think it was that bad,’ you laugh, watching as he nods in self satisfaction.

‘good, i’m glad you approve,’ his eyes are narrow, glossy as they look back at you, he tilts his glass for you to cheers.

‘cheers.. to a not-so-bad wedding,’ you say, knocking your glasses together.

‘and to new friends,’ he adds, that same grin you’d now become accustomed to after only a few short hours.

‘to new friends.’

you and your new friend had sorta maybe totally took full advantage of the free bar and the tiny bag of magic powder steve had kept in his blazer pocket. it wasn’t something you’d usually indulge in, but the champagne had gone to your head and the party was getting dull so..

‘i just wanna say.. i don’t do this shit all the time,’ using his credit card to push the powder into small lines on the edge of the basin, ‘just for when i need a little pick me up..’

he looks up at you from his hunched over position, he’s half-smiling as he pulls a ten dollar bill from his wallet, fiddling around as he rolls it into a small cylinder, offering it to you.

you’re cramped into one of the tiny cubicles together, your back pressed against the cold wall, ‘mm hmm and me either.. just to clarify,’ carefully placing the half-empty champagne flute down on the sink.

‘ladies first..’ hand brushing against against the small of your back as he stands up, mere inches from your face.

you oblige, bending over to sniff the powder, wincing as it stings on the way up. holding out the note for steve to take, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the note. perhaps it was the copious amounts of alcohol but you could’ve worn you felt your heart miss a beat.

he stands back up, holding his nose. eyes still very much refusing to leave yours. they’re a beautiful chestnut colour and you’re sure they looked even better with a sober mind.

‘ready to dance?’ you ask, raising your brows.

his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth to wet his lips, ‘in a minute,’ your heart pounding in not only your chest, ‘fuck- can i kiss you?’

‘please-,’

interrupted by his lips pressing against your own, eyes fluttering shut as his clammy hand finds your waist, pressing himself into your chest.

your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, his tongue glides over your bottom lip, mouth opening for him, as your fingers thread into his hair. he tastes of beer, cigarettes and the mint he’d not-so-sneakily shoved into his mouth before bringing you in here.

it’s all teeth and tongues, his hands getting grabby as they begin to roam around. you so desperately want to jump up onto the sink and let him fuck you into the porcelain right here. pressing your thighs together trying to satiate the growing ache.

you don’t, obviously. his lips chasing yours as you pull back, clawing at the back of his neck, the thumping music of the reception getting louder as someone enters the bathroom.

you put your finger on his lips, willing him not to say a word as the stranger locks themself in the cubicle right next to yours. he’s smirking, pupils blown out from the substance you’d shared. it was exhilarating, pushing his knee between your legs, fingers digging into your sides.

jesus christ, it feels like you’re in this position for eternity. waiting forever for the mystery person to vacate the bathroom. growing impatient as his fingertips dance around your hips, teasing as they tug on your dress.

eventually, they get the fuck out and steve is on your lips again before the door had chance to shut fully. moaning softly into his mouth at the sheer feeling of his thigh brushing against yours. you were a mess and he’d barely touched you yet.

‘shall we.. go? i have a room upstairs,’ mumbling between kisses, not wanting to let go of your lips for too long.

there’s a banging on the door just as he’s managed to slip your dress off. you clutch the material to your chest, covering your dignity in fear of intruders.

‘steve? you in there?’ a woman’s voice calls through the wood.

your eyes widen, absolutely certain that he’d had some hidden girlfriend who was now positively fuming that he’d disappeared with you.

his head slumps as he breathes out, hair brushing against your face, seemingly relieved with whoever was outside, ‘it’s rob.. let me just..’ he clambers off of the bed, ‘she won’t leave until i answer.’

steve swings open the door, met with an unimpressed robin. she’s been scouring the party for the last hour trying to find him. only to find out that he’d last been seen with a girl no one had ever seen before.

‘heyy rob.. everything okay?’ he asks cautiously, well aware that he was shirtless, belt hanging from his pant loops.

‘is everything okay with you? you just disappeared.. what’re you doing in there?’ eyeing his disheveled appearance.

‘ah shit i’m sorry.. i couldn’t find you,’ lies, he hadn’t even looked, far too interested in getting you back to his room.

her eyes narrow, glancing down at the hastily removed heel in the doorway, ‘d’you have a girl in there?’

he frowns at his best friend, ‘wha-? i’m just, going to bed..’ following her gaze to the shoe, ‘yes.. there is.’

you try not to giggle from behind the door, watching as he kicks your shoe backwards into the room.

‘ew,’ she grimaces, ‘why’d you answer the door, you freak.. i’ll see you in the morning,’ scoffing as she walks away.

steve closes the door gently before making his back to the bed, ‘i’m so sorry.. she woulda called the cops if i didn’t answer,’ climbing onto the mattress, sat on his knees in front of you.

‘oh? and she’s your..’ slightly bemused as to who that even was and why she seemed to care so much.

‘best friend,’ he leans in, tugging at the dress still pressed against your chest, ‘so where were we?’ devious smirk painting his face as your grip begins to loosen.

he presses forward, connecting your lips once more, nudging you into laying back, hovering over your body with one hand attempting to wrestle the dress from between your bodies. it lands on the carpet with a soft thud, his hand now free to roam the length of your body, fingers softly brushing over the waistband of your underwear before settling on your thigh. it’s cruel and teasing, you’ve already wasted so much time.

you move your hips upwards, chasing his touch. utterly desperate to feel him again. groaning into his mouth, not bothering to hide your impatience. steve smirks, walking his fingers up toward your hip.

his fingers slip into your carefully chosen panties, choking for air as he pulls back from your lips, ‘holy shit.. you’re soaking,’ still lingering around your aching heat, not doing anything to satisfy the growing wetness.

‘shut up,’ you grumble, pulling him back onto your mouth. rutting your hips to signal how desperate you really are.

he finally gets there, middle and forefinger travelling between your slick folds, rubbing pathetic circles around your clit. you’re grateful for the long awaited release, detaching from his lips to moan.

‘ohh fuck,’ he mutters, feeding off of the delightful sounds coming from your mouth. his cock twitching against your thigh.

‘please,’ you whine, unable to take any more of his incessant teasing. it had gone on for what felt like forever. you blame the various substances for your neediness and the subsequent lack of embarrassment for it.

‘keep begging like that and you can have anything you want,’ rescinding his fingers to tackle his own belt, hastily unbuckling the metal and yanking his suit pants down. boxers coming to rest around his thighs shortly after.

your eyes widen at the sight of his leaking cock springing up. you had felt that he was big but holy shit, this was something else. your surprise doesn’t go unnoticed, his veiny hand fisting his cock as his other hand comes to rest beside your head.

‘i’ll go slow,’ he breathes, eyes hooded as his chestnut eyes gaze into yours. he was used to the apprehension by now. your clammy hands grip onto the back of his neck, feet coming to rest on his lower back. nodding quickly underneath him.

he slides into your cunt achingly slow, his mouth falling open. a strangled sound rumbling from his throat, ‘fuck.. you feel.. so good,’ staying where he was, assessing your reaction before making his next move.

it feels like he’s splitting you open but it’s good. burning desire filling your veins, ‘fuck me..’ you nod, ‘please fuck me,’ becoming accustomed to the feeling of being full, pleading for him to just move.

you don’t have to tell him twice, an animalistic growl escaping as he begins to thrust his hips. he’s still holding back, you can tell but it’s oh so much better than his stagnant pace of before.

your eyes struggle to stay open, eyelids fluttering as he slams into you. hitting the sweet, soft spot you’re sure only he could reach. back arching off of the mattress, sweaty chests colliding, chasing that feeling.

‘oh my god,’ you moan, loud enough for whoever is staying in the adjacent room to hear. it’s filthy, lewd and desperate. the sound of his balls slapping against your supple skin, fastening in response to your encouragement.

‘yeah?’ he pants, reaching his hand around to brush the wild hair from your face. ‘been waiting to do this- nghh.. all fuckin’ day,’ relentless with his tempo, pubic area perfectly catching against your throbbing cult, hurtling you towards your orgasm.

‘fuck,’ you grit, eyes screwed shut. it’s disgusting how the sounds of your cunt fill the room, even worse that it was encouraging him. pounding into your hole ruthlessly, grunting as he nears his own orgasm.

the familiar sensation twists in your stomach, mouth hung open as it’s useless even attempting to muffle yourself. ‘steve..’ you mewl, more as a warning that you were fast approaching your release.

he can feel it, the way you clench around him and the utter mindless babbling coming from your mouth were all too familiar. ‘you gonna come? huh? you wanna come?’ struggling to keep his own composure.

you can’t even verbalise your response, nodding maniacally while your legs squeeze around his waist, keeping him deep inside as you begin to tremble. stomach flipping and your head becoming fuzzy, the tip of his cock nudging against the spongy spot as you come undone around him.

the pleasure is almost overwhelming, tears pricking in your eyes as you writhe against him. ‘shitshitshit,’ whining breathlessly into his ear.

‘oh fuck,’ he barks, beginning to lose his rhythm. hips stuttering as he fills you up, thick ropes of cum painting your walls. pulling out far too late and collapsing on top your sweaty body.

chest rising and falling in time with his as you try to regain your breath, still clinging onto his neck while he buries his face into your shoulder, arms wrapping around your back.

‘oh fuck is right,’ you remark, giggling at his pathetic demeanour. fingers running through his damp hair, his wet lips pressing against the skin of your neck. your mind still too hazy to truly comprehend the implications of him coming inside of you. something for tomorrow you to worry about.

‘i’m sorry,’ he mumbles, cocking his head to finally look up at you, ‘your fault..’ attempting to crack a joke.

‘oh it’s my fault?’

‘oh yeah,’ shifting off of your body and onto the bed slightly, still holding onto your waist. ‘i’d have a baby with you any day,’ wrestling to pull the blanket over your bodies.

you narrow your eyes, resting your head on the soft pillow, choosing to blissfully ignore his comments. the toll of the long day starting to take on your body as your eyes begin to close. snuggling into the side of his body, tangling your leg between his.

‘i wasn’t joking,’ he murmurs sleepily, fingers brushing your back softly.

‘shut up.’

you’re wary of even waking him, wondering if it’d be easier to just slip out unnoticed. maybe you could leave a note on the bedside table for him to find.

no. no, that’d be rude. most one night stands you wouldn’t even be contemplating it, you’d have ran out of there the second you were awake. something felt different with steve.. like maybe you shouldn’t.

you nudge his arm, leaning over his body.

‘steve? steve.. i have to go..’ you coo softly, coaxing him awake.

he jolts, snapping his head in your direction, ‘huh? what?’ squinting as he comes to, head already pounding from the copious amounts of liquor he’d ingested last night.

‘i have to go..’ smiling at his sleepy demeanour.

‘what? no.. no no, where are you going?’ voice heavy with sleep, a whole octave deeper than it was last night.

‘i’ve gotta check out out of my room and drive home.’

he sits up agains the pillow, stretching his arms out with a stifled yawn, ‘now? it’s so early,’ his fingers wrap around your wrist, ‘stay.. ten minutes,’ gently trying to pull you back into the bed with him.

‘it’s a long drive.. i can’t,’ you mutter, standing strong despite the overwhelming urge to just get back into the warm bed with him.

‘let me walk you back then,’ the smooth pad of his thumb tracing along your wrist, ‘gimme like.. five minutes and we can go,’ dropping your arm as he springs out of the bed.

‘you don’t have to.. really,’ you persist, watching as he shimmies into a discarded pair of sweatpants, frantically searching for a clean t-shirt in his suitcase.

‘well i’m going to,’ he pulls it over his messy hair, it had been neglected the last few days and he’d been kicking himself for not looking his best for you.

you simply smile at him, nothing you could say would change his mind so it was easier not to and you weren’t exactly averse to spending more time with him.

he emerges from the bathroom looking slightly more put together, ‘okay i’m ready.. let’s go,’ grabbing his wallet, nearly empty cigarette box and his room key from his discarded pants pocket and grinning.

it’s a comfortable silence on the way back to your room, steve nodding his head at a few wedding guest stragglers who were either doing the exact same thing you were doing or trying to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

the atmosphere is pleasant, almost natural as you walk the halls. arms brushing against each other with every step.

‘well, this is me,’ nodding at the basically untouched hotel room. you’d stepped foot in it once to drop your bag off and hadn’t seen it since.

steve’s biting down onto his bottom lip, ‘you really gotta go now?’ sounding a little disappointed.

‘i’m back to work tomorrow.. i’m sorry,’ trying to disguise your own disappointment. realistically, you probably wouldn’t see him again. just a one time, crazy wedding story you would look back on fondly in a few years.

‘i’m not,’ he offers, trying desperately not to let this go. dating in hawkins wasn’t great, and he wasn’t sure that he’d ever find someone like you even if he searched for his entire life. he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least try.

‘oh?’ raising your brows.

‘yanno, i’ve never been to cincinnati before,’ smirking down at you, ‘i was actually thinking of taking a little vacation there.. like, this week?’

the corners of your lips twitch into a smile, ‘you know what? that sounds like a great idea.’

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington au #stranger things x you #steve harrington fanfic

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carmenized-onions · 26 days

Text

Pretty. | Bolting Down Booths

logline; locking down chairs and a sweaty sleep deprived man (for now) (for the night) (platonically) (for now) (what?) (I didn't say anything).

series history, this is the third; First, Second

portion; 4.5k+

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (baby, Tony's mentally ill, get WITH it). We are once again, eatin' meat (beef!). Did I give the reader a curly girl routine? ....Perhaps...

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'girl' is thrown around quite a bit.)

is this entire series just a love letter to me wanting to take care of this guy? maybe so. maybe so.

Lifesaver. Lifesaver. Lifesaver.

Alright, fuck, you need to put on something to listen to because the thought isn’t leaving and the cherry lifesaver swirling in your mouth is so ironic that it’s leaving a bitter taste.

It’s after hours at The Bear, just after midnight, and you’ve returned to a clinically cleaned restaurant, ‘Ah… Syd keeps it locked in.’ and you’re thankful that you’re alone because it means everyone’s getting their proper rest. However, it also means your intrusive thoughts are really drilling in tonight.

You drop your phone on one of the booth tables, blasting music at full volume. That’s better. Little more static to work with now. You measure each booth and table for the third time tonight, rechecking that the angles are exactly as Syd had asked. They’re still perfect. Alright, get a move on, it’s not gonna somehow get more correct than correct…

You slip yourself under the table, verifying that the bolts are the proper fit— Also for the third time today. Hey, what if Home Depot fucked you earlier?! It’s important to check! You’re definitely not unreasonably anxious right now! But your power drill is practically screaming to be used at this point, so you acquiesce.

You’re on the last bolt when you hear a click of the front door opening.

“Fuck!” It scares you so shitless you jump and knock the top of your head on the table. You lay down quickly, back pressed to the floor to get a look at the perp. You point your power drill menacingly toward the front door.

Oh.

“Fuck are you doing here?” You and Carmen manage to speak in perfect unison.

There’s a beat before you opt to go first.

“Bolting.” Still lying under the table. You raise your drill upward, revving it a few times.

He swallows, sniffs, and scratches his nose. “Thought you were doing that tomorrow?”

“Technically it is tomorrow.” He scoffs, so you continue. “No, uh, Nat asked if I could come in after hours so I’m not as much of an active tripping hazard.” You gesture to yourself on the floor.

“Smart.” He rubs his eyes. He looks red and pink all over.

“…Thought you were getting off early today?”

“I did.” He clears his throat when you make a face about it. “I—I uh, did leave early, I just, just thought I’d come in and uh… Do some work.”

He rubs the back of his neck, continuing after a beat. “I’m, I’m uh, I’m good— In, in the kitchen.”

You chew at your inner cheek, staring at a very clearly distressed Carmy. His eyes are lined red, hair is in disarray.

“…Did you do it?” Did you break up with your girlfriend?

“…Yeah. I-I did.”

You just nod, thoughtful, before slipping back under the table, finishing drilling in the last bolt. “If you need a palate tester, lemme know.”

“Heard.”

The moment is soft but then cut short by you scrambling to quiet your phone atop your table when a perfectly unfitting upbeat song starts to sing out at max volume. He hides his smile poorly as he heads into the kitchen.

It’s a nice hour or so, in the front of house. You drill each bolt efficiently, grounding each booth and table in their place permanently. Your tunes play at a much lower volume now, careful to not alert the lone chef in the back. The intrusive thoughts have vanished with Carmen around, even if distant. He might not consider himself a brightening presence, but to you, he certainly is a nice lamp.

You stand up finally, finished, doing a big stretch of your arms and a crack of your back. You notice Carmen looking at you through the glass. He looks away, then back again, raising a hand, motioning for you to come in. Looks like you finished right on time.

It smells fucking incredible in here. You’re once again trying to temper your reaction as you pass through the door, not wanting to stroke his ego, but he’s already clocked it. It’s okay, you clock his boyish smirk of pride before he hides it with his hand, so you’re even.

On the steel table, plated— On their one black plate, because he’s not over having to settle for less— Are three perfectly cubed and seared pieces of marbled meat, glazed mushrooms, and some round breaded things that you’re not quite sure about. All perfectly plated and decorated with greens, parsley, specifically.

You step next to him, staring at the plate intently, taking it in visually. “Well?”

He hums in a way that sounds like a laugh, arms crossed. He stares at his own plate just as intently. “Pan-seared Wagyu— Sirloin. Wild mushrooms, basted in the same fat. Hazelnut-potato croquettes—”

“What the fuck is that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, he just smiles— In a way that looks actually kind of genuine. He likes to teach. “Seasoned mashed potatoes, basically. Breaded with bread crumbs and hazelnut, in this case, and fried. There’s a gruyere center, to this one.”

You don’t miss the fact that he’s not stuttering anymore. He’s right. He’s good in the kitchen. In all the ways that entails.

“Test?” He lifts a fork to you. You take it.

You lean forward, elbow on the table. You take polite, small cuts of each part of the meal initially, it feels bad to destroy what is an art piece.

But then he leans forward, head meeting your level, amusement lilting his voice. “You know it’s a compliment to eat?”

You huff, taking a larger piece of everything to get it all in one bite. Everything is so soft and lush that you don’t need a knife. Goddamn. You take your bite. Son of a bitch.

You thought fucking brisket was good?

“Oh my god.” You put your hand in front of your mouth as you chew, switching your gaze to him. “Carmen, oh my fucking god!”

“Yeah?” His glow is slowly coming back to him, like a flickering halo. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Fuckin’— So good! What is it, fire? Excellent? What’s the top one? I’m angry that it’s this good.”

“Angry is a new one.”

“I’m furious!” You laugh, “I always thought luxury dining was fuckin’ scam, I’m not gonna lie to you. But I— I took one bite and I’m incredibly full and— And, it’s just— It’s really really good, Carm—Chef. Gotta show it to Syd for the menu.”

He nods, smiling, finally, unhidden. “Thank you, Chef.”

He grabs the fork from you to try for himself, but before he can get to his own plate, you press the back of your hand to his chest, holding him back. “Uh, ah, can I do a thing, for you?”

He squints, curiously, putting his fork down. “…Yes?”

You grin, walking around the kitchen the second he affirms it. “Where’s your wine box?”

“Ah… By expo, over…” He points to it.

You pop it open, hand waving over each bottle for the right one you’re searching for. “I’ll pay for it.”

“S’fine.”

A young Pinot Grigio, you go with. Ripe, sweet, airy. You walk by him again, grazing your hand on the small of his back and placing the bottle in front of him. “Open, don’t pour.”

“Heard.” He roots away for the bottle opener.

“And get me a clean knife and cutting board!”

“Fuck are you doin?” He doesn’t complain, getting what you ask for, but he is quite curious.

You sort through the fruit pantry in Marcus’ section, grabbing the most perfect white peach you can— It wouldn’t be perfect by morning, he won’t mind. “I am an occasional bartender and poor man’s sommelier…”

You meet him back at his station, slicing the peach thinly with the knife he’s left for you. “So, when I’m given the chance to pair a meal, I try to.”

You halve the thin slices, then place a few in each glass Carmen’s so kindly set out for you— Tulip bowled cups. You whistle, “You know your shit…”

His eyes light up, just a bit. He shrugs, handing you the uncorked bottle when you reach for it. “My job.”

“You’re good at it.” You pour the wine, proper— No stops missed for Carmen. “Okay, okay, okay…”

You hand him his glass— The one you think you did a slightly better peach placement on. “Alright, now you can have the dish you worked hard on.”

With a small smile, he takes a generous bite of his dish, takes his time digesting it, then sips your wine. He tilts his head, surprised by how much of a liking he’s taking to it. “S’fire. Well worth it.”

You sip your own glass, smiling, you explain before he can ask you to. “Yeah? Good. Citrusy white to cut the fat of wagyu. Or something. Poor man’s sommelier, y’know.”

“Hm.” He sniffs, and you try not to light up when he writes down the wine pairing at the bottom of his drafted recipe card. “Better than me.”

There’s a comfortable silence before he speaks up again. “You gonna head out?”

You squint at him, head tilted. “Are you?”

Once you know one Berzatto, you’ve known them all. Their tells included.

“…Eventually, yeah.”

“You drive?”

“I take the L.”

“Are you on the red or blue line?”

He doesn’t answer. So, that tells you he’s not on the only two 24-hour lines.

“…I’ll take a transfer—”

“When were you planning on going?” You cross your arms; he can tell where this is going and he hates it. You’re foiling his plan.

“When I’m done.”

“Done what?”

“…Cleaning.”

“I’ll help you,” You pick up the cutting board and knife swiftly. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I need to get work done—Too.” He takes a while to reply, but when he does, he speaks with haste.

You pause, putting the cutting board down. Let’s do the math here.

He said he came in ‘early’ this morning, but ‘early’ probably meant overnight because of the Fridge Guy. He left early, sure, before the dinner rush— But only to experience his first breakup—If you can call it that. Then he’s come back at midnight again, after everyone else has left. The likelihood he’s slept since the night before his opening isn’t impossible, but if he did sleep, he slept here. And he definitely hasn’t showered. He’s likely been awake 40 hours.

You nod, picking up the board again, walking it to the sink. You stand over it in thought.

“What’s wrong with home, Carm?”

“It’s gonna hit, if I go home.”

He swallows, “Everything’s gonna hit, when I go home.”

Now that you can understand. You nod, scrubbing the cutting board clean. “When your brother died, I holed up at my parents’ for two weeks.”

You don’t turn off the sink, even after you're done cleaning, because if you do, you fear he will hear your tell-tale heartbeat. “When I came back, my plants were half dead and my fridge was a biohazard.”

He sniffs, he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, for you to tell him he has to go home, that it only gets worse if you wait it out, that he needs to find a better way to deal with this—

“You can hole up at mine.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your head to look at him. He’s very hard to read but it looks like he’s entertaining the idea. You add, for the sake of levity, “You need a fuckin’ shower, man.”

He smirks, though the amusement doesn’t meet his eyes. “When I shower all my fuckin’ hairs gonna fall out.” He piles his dirtied utensils and boards, sidling up to the sink next to you.

“You need rosemary water.” You grab a dish rag, switching over to dry for him.

“Does that shit actually work?” You both quickly ebb into the domestic flow of handing off dishes. He mumbles ‘left-most drawer’, ‘top-shelf, right side’, and so on whenever you’re confused about where they go once they’re dry.

“It does. I have also had the ‘am I balding?’ crisis. Believe it or not.”

He stares at your hairline so intently you put your hand in front of it, flustered. He finally flicks his gaze back to yours. “If you’re really worried, you can make it pretty easy—”

“I’ll stay over.”

You take a second to register, then nod happily.

“Good. Where’s the black plate go?”

Your apartment is surprising because it’s built on top of an H&R Block, the concrete stairs leading up to it are chipped to hell, and the front door has clearly been graffitied then painted over then graffitied then painted over then graf—

And yet, it is almost certainly one of the best-looking apartments he’s seen in Chicago— On the inside at least.

None of the furniture matches, but it’s nice, it’s eclectic. It’s heavily thrifted and upcycled from furniture you found on the side of the road. That’s the nice thing, about being a fixer—Nothing’s trash if you believe in yourself. You drop your keys in a handmade clay tray— That’s the other thing Carm notices, so much of this is you alone.

The place is a mess, there’s half-finished projects in the corner of every room, tools strewn in odd places. And it’s perfectly welcoming. Warm. In a literal sense, too, because there’s a humidifier going off on a timer in the living room to make what Carmen estimates are your forty thousand plants and cuttings happy.

This is a perfect apartment because you live in it.

Nothing can hit, in here.

He comes back to reality when you reach your hand out to him, there’s a coat hanger in your other hand. Oh. Jacket.

“Oh, fuck.” He peels off his jacket, handing it to you. “I uh, I left your Carhartt at work.”

“S’fine, if I was in a rush for it back, I would’ve asked.” You brush off easily, hanging up the jean jacket in your small coat closet. “Ah…”

Your apartment has a pretty open layout, but you point at everything regardless.

“There’s the kitchen…” It’s on the right at the entry, with an open archway— Which you’re in the middle of rounding the corners on with plywood.

“The living room…” Straight ahead, he can see the half of it that isn’t blocked by the kitchen. You’ve got big windows, with a fire escape. Suncatchers and more plants are hanging from the ceiling by it.

“To the left, down the hall— The only hall, bathrooms on the right and straight ahead is the bedroom, you can put your shit there.”

His brows furrow, you say the last part quickly, and he’s going to say something but you grab the black plate he’s brought and brush past him to the kitchen.

So, he just shrugs off his backpack, “Heard.” And heads down the hall. For now.

It feels odd to put this very fancy, very expensive one black plate on top of the rest of your own cheap dishware— But he insisted you take it, so, here it is.

You march down the hall, going to grab towels for him from your room, but stop short when you hear him in the bathroom, mumbling, “Fuck is this?”

You peek in, “Fuck is what?” You come in when he turns the bottle in his hand for you to look at. You stare at it for a solid few seconds, genuinely alarmed, you look at Carmen with wide eyes.

“Carmy, look me in my eyes and tell me you know what conditioner is.”

“I—I know what conditioner is, but what are all the words for?”

“All the words?”

“Like, strengthening, bonding, texture—”

“Carmen?!”

“Don’t say my name like that…”

“You have wavy hair, too, Bear!” You stare wide-eyed, mouth in an open-mouth smile because if you don’t laugh you’ll start screaming. You swipe away the hair in front of his face, holding the tress between your fingers to get an idea of texture. You’re too focused to clock the way he flinches— At the nickname and the touch.

“We’ve got like, the same hair texture! What the fuck are you using?”

He doesn’t answer, he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Carmen…” You can make a pretty good guess. He bristles again. He has discovered does not like it when you say his name with any sort of animosity or disappointment.

“Carmen no… Two in One?”

“…Five in One.”

“Five in One?!” You clutch the sides of your head. “What are the Five?!”

He waves his hands in defense, “It’s—”

“Y’know what, don’t fuckin’ tell me, I don’t wanna know, I don’t need to know.” You cover your face and shake your head. “Just— I will get you clothes and a towel, wash—” You reach into your shower, grabbing your fruity body wash. “—Wash yourself with this, like a civilized person— And just don’t— Don’t touch your hair, I’ll take care of your hair after you shower.”

“You’ll take care—”

“You’ve lost your hair privileges; I will be taking up the arms.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I just—You need a tutorial, please.”

He holds the body wash in his hand, debating this fight or not, “I think five is—”

“Just fuckin’ say heard.”

“Heard.”

Despite everything, you both laugh. You tap the doorway on your way out, yelling to no one as you turn back down the hall. “Corner!” It’s worth it when he laughs again.

Ironically, the one shirt you know will fit him that you have is ‘The Berf’, so you grab that. Pants are a bit tougher, but with enough scrounging through your closet you find a long-forgotten pair of sweatpants your brother left here ages ago.

You approach the bathroom door, it’s still ajar, so you invite yourself in. He’s staring at your skincare products with a clinical fascination, stopping only to acknowledge your presence.

“Alright, alright.” You pop your pile of things down on the sink counter, handing each thing to him individually.

“New toothbrush.” Still packaged. It’s got your dentist’s address on the clear plastic. “Pyjamas. Towel, wash cloth— I think you’re good.”

When you turn your head to look at him, you catch the tail end of him staring— Again, his eye contact is so soft and also scary. And now that the sleep is catching up to him, he’s half-lidded and— Goddamn it he is very pretty, sonofabitch.

He straightens up, sniffing, nodding as a form of thanks, the likelihood he’s registered anything you’ve said isn’t likely— Which is fine, you are now too flustered to care. There’s a boy in your house and you’ve just discovered he’s pretty.

“I’m just gonna wash my face n’ grab a few things and I’ll be out of your way.”

You wash your hands; he unwraps his toothbrush. And without verbally checking in, you once again flow into a silent rhythm. You grab your toothbrush, dole out toothpaste on both of your brushes, and stare at yourselves and each other in the mirror, side by side as you brush.

You make a face, and while he doesn’t fuckin’ guffaw, he does smile, foam peeking through the corners of his mouth, and that’s enough for you.

You rinse— You try to be dainty about it but it’s not, because when has brushing your teeth ever been dignified?

You pump face cleanser into your palm, then nod to him to do the same. Good Carm, he listens. Like a mime tutorial, he follows your actions of foaming it in the hands and properly washing his face. There’s hope for this five in one boy yet.

You pile together your skincare and leave him to shower in peace. More importantly, leave to let yourself lose it in peace.

Oh my god there’s a pretty boy in your bathroom and it’s two in the morning. What the fuck were you thinking? You just invited him over without hesitation? You met him like barely two days ago! Oh my god! There’s a pretty boy in your bathroom! And it’s two! In the morning!

You need to kill the teenage girl in your head because she’s freaking you the fuck out. You were literally being so calm and chill and cool and cool and chill and calm— Oh my god you’re doing it again—

Everything is fine. He’s literally here because he’s experiencing a torrential downpour of awful. You invited him over because you’d invite anyone like that over. Pretty or not. Get your head in order.

You take a deep, mindful breath and exhale, returning to neutral as you meditatively go through your skincare routine and change into your nice pajamas— Y’know, the one modest matching set for when you have guests or go somewhere. Instead of the one usual incredibly stained oversized t-shirt.

You set up a chair by your kitchen sink, towel on the back for comfort. You were serious about the hair thing. Your scalp and his are curly girl sisters, you cannot leave them to die like this.

When he comes out, knots in his back undone, steam wafting, grime finally removed, he approaches you with much more energy, and leans against the doorway. You both speak at once.

“Weird to see you out of uniform.”

You snort; he flattens his mouth into a line to keep from smiling too hard (which, for Carmen, would really just mean smiling with his teeth). But really, it is weird. You’re both suddenly… People. You can see all his tattoos and his stupid gold chain...And he can see you.

You kick the chair with your foot, gesturing to it. “Sit, I’m washing your hair.”

You’re walking past him before he’s got the chance to deny, collecting proper products from the bathroom to use. Y’know. Not fucking five in one.

Once again, good Carm listens, sitting in the chair. Not without complaints, though. “Big fan of babying people?”

You wrap the towel behind his neck, tilting his head back into the sink. If you pretend, it’s like a salon. You hum in reply, blunt, “Yeah, I am.”

“I like to take care of people. In a way, it’s kind of my job.” You re-rinse his hair once the water is warm— Thank God your kitchen faucet is a sprayer.

“You’re good at it.” He’s too comfortable and lethargic to be aggro about this, so he’s just sweet and honest. It’s hard not to beam.

“I try.” You massage shampoo through his scalp, “I know I’m pushy about it, sometimes.”

He sighs, a breath of relief. When’s the last time someone else washed his hair? He’s been cutting his own for years, he cannot remember the last time. Had to have been before New York.

“Were you pushy with Mikey?” He’s not fully sure why he said that, and he’s waiting for you to make him regret asking it.

You just hum, nostalgically amused, “I think I got pushy because of Mikey.”

“Stopped hoping my friends would take care of themselves with the right tools and decided to just take care of them myself.” You rinse the bubbles from his hair. You’re happy to see his wavy pattern returning.

“A lot of work.”

“Not to me.”

You pump conditioner into your hand— And while he’d probably love for you to elaborate on that point, you have to pivot, “Alright, this part you actually should pay attention to— When you condition— Because you will be conditioning, from this point on.”

He just grunts in reply, but it sounds like enough of a yes to you.

“—When you do it, you’ll hang your head upside down and apply conditioner from the bottom— You gotta like, squeeze your hair in it—” You do the proper routine, squelching his hair, does he laugh at the sound? Yes. Yes, he does. “It’ll sound like that. And then rinse.”

You look at his peaceful, amused expression. His eyes closed. “Heard.”

“Are you retaining any of this?”

“I said heard, didn’t I?”

You just scoff, rinsing his hair. You teach him how to scrunch with the towel, but his eyes are so dazed during it you give the poor boy a break and don’t explain that what you’re putting in his hair is mousse. He might have an aneurysm if you use a ‘food word’ in relation to hair right now.

“Alright, alright, the exhaustion is setting in, let’s get you to bed before you start seeing spiders.” You take his arm and hoist him up. Everything is fine until this bozo tries walking to the living room while you’re trying to pull him down the hall. You once again, speak in sync.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m taking the couch.”

He now realizes why you spoke so quickly about him putting his things away in your room instead of the living room. It’s like you just awoke every Italian ancestor in his bones because he is immediately alert.

“No, you’re not.”

That’s fine because he’s in your household, motherfucker. Your family tree is in the furniture.

“You’re the guest. You take the bed.”

“You’re the host. You take the bed.”

“I’m the one that invited you.”

“And what? You’re the girl.”

At a point, you are both speaking with your hands, words tumbling on top of each other's.

“Bitch—” “It’s just not right—” “I literally made you come over specifically to get proper rest—” “I will be haunted all night by my Nonna if you sleep on the couch—” “The couch is a pull-out, it’s comfortable!” “Then let me use it!” “No!”

This is going nowhere fast.

“My own grandmother takes the couch when I visit. She would throw me off my own balcony if I made a guest take the couch.” Is your hard stance.

And his, “My Nonno would stab me if I let a pretty girl sleep on a couch.”

Now this does immediately shut you the fuck up.

That doesn’t mean he’s won; he’s also shut the fuck up. A slip-up of mutually assured destruction.

You bite back your wheeze of shocked laughter, and you’re very thankful it’s two in the morning now because the moonlight through the window doesn’t entirely catch your reaction of being embarrassingly bashful in this moment. How did the teen girl in you survive? You were so sure you got her…

Your hands hang in the air for a moment, before you finally manage to say, “Either I take the couch—”

“No—”

“Or, it’s a double, so we share it.” You shrug, wringing your hands, “So whichever one you find the least sacrilege.”

God, there’s no simple way to make that not sound like you’re coming onto him, is there? You’re not, for the record. It’s just the fastest solution. You’ve shared beds before, it’s not a big deal— It’s actually only a big deal if you make it one, it’s actually very normal—Get this fucking teen out of here—!

“Fuckin’— Alright!” He huffs after thinking on it for some time, rubbing his forehead in some sort of anguish before marching down the hall.

When you don’t follow, he clicks his teeth. “C’mon, Tony.” His tone is languid and aggravated.

Ah, the sweet sound of a man who has had to compromise— But will be damned if he doesn’t get his part of said compromise. Also the sound of a man who really wishes he hadn't just said pretty girl.

You follow him to your room. Fuck it. Say the thing. You've been trying to keep a level social playing field with him anyway.

“Heard, pretty boy!"

two idiots realize the other one is pretty and nice and try to not acknowledge it (DIFFICULTY LEVEL: IMPOSSIBLE)

Would you believe me if I said I was trying to not do the 'one bed' trope? I really was! I'm not a huge trope guy! But writing it down I was like 'neither of these people would fucking fold'. The only other option would be for both of them to stare at each other in the hallway for 8 hours and come to no agreement. Did not plan Pretty Girl but thank god because it was the only thing that would get them out of that time loop.

It's always my favourite thing when a person who's been cavalier when it comes to boundaries suddenly finds their line (he's pretty) and is now immediately so hyphy. I hope you also messed with this.

Tell me your thoughts!! Favourite bits, lines, etc!! Feeds me!! (Oh, speaking of fed, shout out to Daniel NYC, I did steal their menu for this. I'll probably do it again because I am not a Michelin Star Chef.)

Next Part

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear fx #the bear x you #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear

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solarlunarsstuff · 7 months

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Can you write Mike Taking readers virginity or mutual masterbation where he is more dominant and a lot of praise pleaseee

YESSSS, I'll do both my lovely anon💞! (Also if u want to be a certain emoji type of anon u can put "-Anon🦈" or smth like that)

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙

☆ Double Night Guards ☆

Synopsis: You were both hired to watched an old run down pizzeria, while Mike and you only had subtle interactions he still thought it count. You would mostly clean the place up here and there, while Mike stayed back in the office watching the camera's, if he wanted to do this he would have to do it quick before you came back...

Tw: mutual pining, mutual masterbation, dirty talk, foul language, LOTS of praise, virginity loss (reader), manhandiling, Dacryphilia, dumbification, mentions of pregnancy, creampies, slow burn-ish, somniphilia, hair pulling, body worship, pet names, full Nelson, smut n' flufff, and nice after care.

A/n: Also I'm sorry other anon my bsf typed 'sure' on it and posted it but I couldn't get it back but I hope it was similar to this... :((

You were both hired about a week ago, you still haven't gotten used to your new sleep schedule but you did manage to get up. Only a few minutes late.

Surprised that you woke up early today, you had gotten ready eaten breakfast and drove off for work.

It was obvious you were going to be getting there earlier than Mike, so you decided to look around the pizzeria for some cleaning utilities. You did find them in a closet near the end of the hall.

You grabbed what you needed and got to work, starting in the bathrooms would be a bad idea so you decided to stroll near the front of the run down restaurant.

It took you about 10 minutes to move all of the furniture, stacking the children chairs in a corner and pick up the loose trash off of the dirty carpets.

You had music blasting and hadn't noticed Mike had entered through the double glass doors. He was nervously standing there not knowing what to do, he decided to tap on your shoulder.

That quite obviously scared the living shit out of you, whipping your body around and your shirt and vest hiked up your body a bit.

You had giggled lightly and picked up remaining trash beind you on the danty carpet, you heard Mike shift a little bit behind you. Weird...

"Scared the fuck out of me, Mike!" You laughed out

He rested his right hand behind the nape of his neck while awkwardly stuttering.

"Uhh, I-I'll just g-go to the, uhm.." Mike was clearly struggling

"Office?"

"Yeah, that.."

You told him that you wanted to stay out here and clean around the place because of how gross it was and how it was making your dust allergy kick in.

Mike just nodded in response and walked swiftly away to the shared office you both had, he was kind of relieved that you weren't watching cameras.

He would get the worst aching boner because of you. Mike would become so desperate that he would be clenching the armrests of his chair.

Besides that he was not as overwhelmed as much, that was good, he just sat there and watched the cameras. Checking on the animatronics and something else...

Job wise, you and him were good colleagues. You both have respect for each other and respect boundaries. But he wanted to cross the line, he wanted to see how far you could go without overdoing it.

Mike would have to shift himself in his pants everytime you would bend over to grab something. You broke something in him, he was getting needier the more you both came to work.

You had just finished cleaning the dining area and moved onto the stage where the main 3 were. Opening the curtains manually and shining your flashlight in to see what you were working with.

That didn't matter to Mike, what mattered was how you looked when you had the bottom half of your body hanging off the edge of the duty stage while the top was laying down trying to dust best as possible without stepping onto the stage.

That's when he broke, in that exact moment. 'What if- I could be quick, right, she won't know..' Mike told himself.

He focused onto the old beat up camera screen while palming himself through his jeans, he used the back of his other hand to muffle his deep groans that came out of him.

Mike was extremely focused on you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and boxers to the end of his thigh. Precum was dripping mini droplets from the slit on the top of his pretty red tip.

He slowly started to palm himself, making sure not to be to loud, Mike took his time and played with his slit and continued to lather precum on his whole length.

Mike ruffled his hair back while he picked his pace up a bit, he let his head hang back while he lolled his tongue out a little. (Futureman reference)

He nearly came when he saw that you had dropped something under a table and had to get on all fours to try and reach for it. Your ass sticking out from behind you.

Mike whimpered from the way you moved, you had taken your vest off and had a black tank top on that made your tits almost spill out when you walked.

He thrusted into his hand and started to moan a little but not to loud, as he was cautious so you wouldn't find out.

Mike's cock was twitching, that was telling him that he was getting closer to his release.

"Fuckkk, {Y/n}-" he groaned

Then the coil in him snapped apart, he came. There's was a lot rolling down his knuckles, his bare thighs, and some splatters got onto the camera screens.

His chest was heaving heavily, soft whispers of your name could be heard from his mouth. Mike reached for his tissues and cleaned himself along with whatever was hit.

Right after Mike threw the last of the mess away into the trash, you entered the room. Also breathing heavily, from the cleaning of course. He fixed his clothing and sat back down onto the chair, manspreading.

This man did wonders on you, but he was so oblivious that it was cute. But when he did that pose. Oh it went straight down to your core, making your walls flutter with excitement.

But you couldn't just take your bottom of right there and spread your legs open and start fingering yourself while playing with your-

You just couldn't, you didn't even know him like that. So you just had to wait, the last of the 4 hours of your shift. Tonight was going to be long..

You would both awkwardly stand there and not utter a word, you noticed that Mike had extremely heavy eyebags.

"Hey, if your tired, you could sleep..I could take over.." you uttered cautiously

His eyes lit up, he nodded a yes and moved to where you were sitting and switched spots. Throwing yourself onto the office chair.

Looking at the cameras seeing that nothing was wrong, you peered over your shoulder to see a beautiful man sleeping before you. I mean, you could?

"Fuck it.." you mumbled barely over a whisper

You didn't want to take all of your clothes off so you came up with a better plan.

While slipping your hand into your pants, teasing yourself through your panties. Glancing from the old cameras to Mike's sleeping body.

You used your hand to grip the armrest part of the chair, getting a bit frustrating. You slipped your delicate fingers past your panties.

Circling your clit and picking up your slick from your needy hole to lather over your throbbing clit. You let out a huff but quickly silenced yourself once you saw that Mike started to stir.

But that didn't mean you were stopping, putting more pressure onto your clit made you gasp. That wasn't even enough.

You picked your pace up and started to slip two fingers into your gaping hole, the silence was loud only to be interrupted by the slick noises of your throbbing cunt.

"Shiiiit- Mike-" you loudly whispered

You started to finger yourself faster and used your palm to rub your clit. This got you closer, making you let out little ah ah ah's every time you slipped in and out.

That's when you burst, your thighs were shaky and your cum was covering your panties and hand. You got up quietly and rushed to the bathroom to wash your hands. And you came back to continue your shift.

And soon it reached 6 AM, you gently woke Mike up.

"What is it?" He groggliy asked

He must've forgotten we were at work.. you thought

"Mike, our shift just ended, we can go home now." You told while putting your jacket on and gathering your belongings.

He mouthed an oh and got up to grab his stuff. You both got out of the pizzeria and Mike locked up, that was because you couldn't trust yourself with keys whatsoever.

You lived a few houses down from Mike which wasn't bad, if him needed anything he would probably come to you first.

Before Mike got into his car you called his name.

"Hey, uhh, do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night? I was told that we don't have a shift until next week.." you shyly asked

"Uhm, yeah!"

"Oh, also, you can bring Abby!" You happily smiled at him before getting into your car.

And with that, you drove off back to your house. Heart beating rapidly from inviting your coworker over to your house for dinner.

You had no idea what to cook, but then it hit you. You've babysat Abby before, and you knew what food she liked the most. Spaghetti and pizza.

So you got to work, you obviously made the pizza a day before because making homemade pizza dough takes hours to rise. So you didn't want to rush anything.

After an hour or so, you had left the dough in a bowl with plastic wrap on the top to let it rise. And so with that, you went to take a nap.

You woke up around 4 PM, you kind of forgot what time to tell Mike to come over. So you called him.

Ring!

He finally answered and asked who this was.

"Hey, it's {Y/n} I forgot to tell you what time to come, for, you know, dinner.."

"Anyway, I was thinking 5:30?" You continued

His side of the line went a bit silent.

"Yeah, sounds great. Me and Abby will be there in awhile.." his raspy voice coughed out

You both said your goodbyes and you went straight to the kitchen. Having to make the spaghetti, doesn't seem hard. So you finished that within an hour and set the table as best you could.

You waited in the living room until you heard a knock on your door. Must be them! You thought.

You shuffled to put a jacket on while stumbling to the foyer. You fixed your hair a bit and opened the door.

"Heyy, come on in you guys!" You warmly smiled at Abby and Mike.

Abby rushed in and hugged you by your waist, you happily sighed and hugged her back. Mike just awkwardly stood there and waited.

You let Abby go and took Mike's hand to lead him through your house while Abby let herself in and excitedly explored.

Mike reminded her not to be as nosy at home and not to break anything. You giggled a little from the sibling interactions that they had.

Once all three of you got into your kitchen you showed them to the made dining table. You never saw Abby so happy, she sat down and beckoned for you and Mike to come over.

You both sat down and made plates, after about an hour. Abby was sitting on the living room floor while she watched TV. You and Mike were observing from afar.

"She's so cute, I wish I had my own kid.." you sighed

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mike flush a tint of red on his cheeks, while scratching the nape of his neck.

Don't say it. Don't say it. He told himself.

"Well, what if...what if I gave you one?" He stuttered a bit but had some confidence in him.

Your eyes widened but soon turned into a soft smile.

"I would love that, Mike.." you said while resting your arms on his shoulders

"Oh!" His voice was above a whisper

You gave him a quick kiss on the lips and walked toward Abby. Leaving Mike all hot and bothered.

"Hey Abs, do you have school tomorrow?" You kindly asked while resting your hands on your knees.

She shook her head.

"I was thinking, what would you think of a sleep over at my house tonight?" You told her

She jumped up and hugged you while thanking you and asking where she would sleep.

You lead her to a guest room and let her choose a pillow and blanket to use, she smiled and got her bed ready.

"If you want, you can continue watching TV until 12 PM." You smiled

She thanked you again and ran off down stairs. Leaving you and Mike alone, you had brought him to your room.

"So, about that baby you were going to give me..." you inquired

He turned beet red, reenacting what he had said to you earlier. Mike's expression softened and he sat on the edge of your bed while holding your left hip and your cheek.

Mike nodded and pulled you into a kiss, it was sloppy but needy. He pulled you onto his lap and pulled on your hair so it made him look down at you.

You moaned into his mouth from the pressure, he smiled against your lips. Moving down to your neck leaving hickeys where he wanted them. Mike obviously made sure to lock your bedroom door before he sat down.

Mike tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over you head showing that you hadn't worn any sort of bra, he whimpered at the sight of you bare.

Just for him, his good girl. And his only good girl.

Mike attached his wet lips to one of your plump breast. He sucked and gave it kitten licks. His actions as of now made your head roll back as you started to roll your hips on his clothed dick.

He bit lightly onto your harden nipple to see your reaction and oh did he get one. You pushed Mike's head further into your chest, unlocking something in him.

He sucked a little harder and thrusted his hips up to meet your low grinding. Groaning into your breasts sending sensational waves through you.

Mike could spend hours touching your tits, just squishing them or giving them little kisses is his go to when he's with you almost all the time.

As of right now, all he wanted to do was give you pleasure and so he did. Mike looked up at you through his half lidded eyes and licked a strip from the bottom to the top of your boobs.

Throwing your head back and babbling incoherent words under your breath.

"Mikey, please! I need it, right now! Please, I'll be a good girl!"

He loved the little nickname Mikey. It sends butterflies straight to his stomach, wanting- needing you.

That was it, he couldn't take it anymore. He struggled a little to get all of his clothing items off but he was soon bare and he ripped your shorts and panties along with one swift movement of his hands.

Mike loved how you were wet for him, making his cock's tip was already leaking with his pretty precum.

Giving himself a few strokes making him twitch in his own hand. Mike let go and positioned you so your head was on a pillow and put another pillow under your lower back.

"Alright baby, are you ready? It might hurt, its okay." Mike whispered beautiful nothings into your ear.

"Gonna start with the tip, okay darlin'?" Fuck, he was doing a number on you with his voice.

Mike swiped his cock head along your folds, making you huff out in sexual frustration.

"Deep breath in..." he muttered loud enough for you to understand before slowly rutting his tip into you.

The head was tugging on your cunt, his praise made your pussy to become slick with your juices.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay my love?" You only nodded in response and waited

It was abrupt, it stung but it felt so fucking good. Mike had only made it a little bit more than halfway before you started to nudge closer to him so he could bottom out.

"Aww, little whore wants more? I'll give you more you fucking slut-" he grunted while thrusting his hips into you entirely.

Arching your back off of the bed and nearly loosing your eyesight from rolling your eyes to the back of your head. Mike chuckled lightly while slowly rolling his hips, in and out of your sopping cunt.

"Thought you wanted it sweetheart?" He teased

He grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed them a little, getting the perfect view of how your needy pussy was taking him. Mike soon lifted your right leg onto his shoulder while the other planted into the mattress.

Mike picked his pace up a bit and started to feel a knot forming in his stomach, as he moved faster and faster until he couldn't move any faster. He grew bored of the position you were in so he gripped the back sides of both of your thighs and moved up and rested your knees on either side of your head.

Eye widening that you were capable of folding like that, not complaining. He continued to fuck his cock into your puffy cunt. You tightened your walls around him.

"Fuucckkk, this pussy is just milkin' me isn't it?" He grunted

You were close, it was obvious because you let little ah's out and your breathing became uneven. Your thighs were trembling a little.

"Gonna be a good girl and let me cum in you?" His grunts became his breath sharpening through his gritted teeth.

You nodded aggressively, giving him the go. It only took a few more pumps until you clenched around him, having your eyes roll back while whispering his name incoherently.

Mike came right after, filling your pretty pussy with his hot seed. He pulled out and saw how your cunt clenched around nothing and his cum spilling out.

He sighed and got up to the connected bathroom of your room and got a damp towel to clean you both up before he gathered a new pair of clothing and dressed you and himself.

Cuddling up, spooning you and letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Did s' good for me, princess.." he mumbled while nearly drifting off.

Rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

"I love you {Y/n}, I always have." Mike gave a quick kiss on your cheek before dozing off while warmly wrapping around you like a love letter.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

I'm so sorry if this is half assed. This is one of the longest fics I've ever written. School just sucks and I type on my phone for writing (I don't have a laptop lmao). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, love you pooksters 🫶💤 (I'll prob work on the other fics in a later time. Sorry my luvs💞)

#fnaf #josh hutcherson #michael afton #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x reader #smut #michael afton x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #half assed #fanfic #fnaf movie #fnaf smut

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