#I miss when mike was quiet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sylusjinwoon · 1 year ago

Text

{ 109 }

you don't know my name.

mike schmidt x fem.reader warnings: unedited; completely fluffy and safe; story takes place after the events of the movie.

{ doing more than i've ever done for anyone's attention | take notice of what's in front of you, 'cause did i mention? | you're about to miss a good thing. }

there was a cute guy that caught your eye during your morning shift at sparky's diner.

he seems tired, you mused to yourself while wiping down one of the tables. every so often, your eyes would stray to him, taking in his strands of curly, brown hair and eyes the color of milk coffee. you noticed the way those dark circles remain prominent beneath his eyelids, and how slouched his posture was.

it seemed as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet somehow, something about him drew you to him. as your perky and all too eager co-worker, ness, was about to speak to the tired young man, you stop him in his tracks. "wait, ness, if it's okay with you...could we...switch duties for a moment?"

"switch? whatever for?" ness asks you, ready to hear your explanation when a sudden, knowing smile graces his features. "ah, i get it. so you've got a crush on mike schmidt?"

"oh, his name's mike- i-i mean! no, don't be silly, ness! i-i do not have a crush on him! it's just-" you trail off while looking at the table where he- where mike was. "he looks tired, like maybe he could use a little pick-me-up, and someone who's willing to listen to him."

ness playfully rolls his eyes at you, but ultimately takes a hold of your rag and proceeds to wipe down the tables, silently jutting his head over towards the table where mike sat. mouthing a quiet thank you to him, you take out your pad and pen and walk over to his table.

"good morning and welcome to sparky's diner! what can i get for you?" your voice was dripping with sincerity and a bit of enthusiasm, waiting for mike to speak. his gaze was faraway, yet when you called out to him was when he finally looked at you. you watch as his gaze meets with your own, feeling your heart jump into the confines of your throat as it began to race. butterflies were felt erupting all across your abdomen, and you realized that he was kind of cute- really cute up close. you saw his mouth move, mouthing something, yet you were so distracted that you had to shake your head and ask him to repeat his order, an admission that made the heat settle against your cheeks as you could feel the blood rushing beneath your skin. "it's okay, i just said a regular coffee with cream and sugar is fine." "r-right, coffee with cream and sugar, got it! can i get you anything else?" feeling playful, you lean down a bit closer to him, whispering almost in hushed tones, "secret between you and me, but our cinnamon rolls are to die for." your words succeed in making mike smile, earning the tiniest chuckle from him as he shakes his head. "i'm sure they are, but maybe next time. i'm good with just some coffee." "comin' right up!" your heart was fluttering within your chest now, and you could not stop the smile that threatened to paint your features. something about mike stood out to you as being lonely, and you wanted to see him smile again. so, you tell the cooks that you could take care of this simple order, making mike's coffee while putting vanilla creamer and some sugar in it. with his cup of coffee set aside, you got a plate and placed a warm cinnamon roll with a light sheen of frosting on it. with his treat in hand, you head over to the table and deliver mike's order. "here you go." mike sees the cinnamon roll and was about to protest. "oh, sorry, but i didn't order-"

"it's on the house." you wink at him, ignoring the slight pounding of your heart before walking away from mike, giving him some space to enjoy his morning treat. as you made your way back to the counter, ness was giving you an almost smug expression. "so...when's the wedding again?"

his teasing question makes you roll your eyes at him, but deep down, it made your heart skip beats in a way that you've never felt before- but you certainly didn't hate this feeling. { ... } mike schmidt became somewhat of a regular after that first morning. despite how tired he seemed, he always made sure to come to the diner around 7am. from the short conversations you had with him, you knew that he had a bit of a rough childhood and was taking odd end jobs to help with raising his little sister, abby, with his current job being a night shift security guard at the medical center nearby. each time he came, you would serve his usual coffee. your boss always told you to use regular milk for anyone who orders coffee and to save the vanilla creamer for regulars who tipped well, but you didn't care. mike was special to you, so you always added the vanilla creamer to his coffee along with a sweet treat.

it didn't matter that your special treatment pertaining to mike schmidt docked a little bit of your paycheck every two weeks, to you, it was worth seeing his smile and the bit of exhaustion slip away from his features. you wanted to know more about him, and whether he was happy. you wanted desperately for him to open up to you. yet, something seemed to shift. today, when he came in, he changed his order from a single cup of coffee to two. his sudden change in order made your heart sank, wondering if his order for two cups of coffee was for that pretty blonde girl who you saw him with a few weeks ago. she didn't enter the diner with him, rather, they shared a brief conversation before embracing each other. you recall that day where you cheerfully asked him if she was his girlfriend and why she didn't come in with him, hiding the strange hurt you felt behind a too wide smile. yet the moment he vehemently shook his head while clarifying that she was just a friend and needed to get back to work, you all but forgot about it. maybe it's different now after all. you chew on your bottom lip while making mike's two cups of coffee, adding the vanilla creamer in both as you wondered if it was too late for you to ask him out. ever since the first day that you met him, he has been all that you've thought about, and your crush on him was slowly morphing into something that was much deeper.

with the two coffees in hand, you shakily deliver them to mike's table, mustering a shaky enjoy before attempting to walk away. yet, it was mike that stopped you from leaving when he says your name out loud. "wait, don't go." you face him, confusion written all across your face as mike looks away from you. he says nothing, just keeping his furrowed brow on the two cups of coffee settled on the table. "what's wrong, mike?" your voice comes out patient and soft, waiting for him to tell you what was on his mind. you watch as his fingertips trace the rim of the coffee cup, hearing him clear his throat before continuing. "sorry, i'm really not good at any of this, at all, but abby told me i should make a move." abby? his sister?

you were given no chance to dwell on his words when he gestures at the second cup of coffee. "this one's for you, and i'm wondering if you'd like to...sit down and share a cup with me?" with a purse of your lips, your eyes scan the diner, seeing only a few customers enjoying their breakfast with ness organizing all of the condiments on the table. letting out a sigh, you give mike a nod and sit across the table from him.

a strange sense of relief was felt coursing through your veins now that you were across from mike. taking the cup of coffee (where now you knew was meant for you this whole time) you take a sip while trying to taste the subtle sweetness of the coffee mixed in with vanilla creamer-

yet all you could focus on was the smile mike held on his face. "i can't tell you how much...better i've been feeling lately." mike begins to tell you, looking down at his coffee with a fondness in his gaze. "it's just, these days...i really find myself looking forward to seeing you."

his words were so achingly sweet that you felt your heart melt, swearing that you were close to turning into putty. not realizing the change in your demeanor, mike leans forward to take a hold of your hand within his. "so, i was wondering..."

"could i...could i pick you up later tonight after your shift and invite you over for dinner? i've got the day off, and i feel like i need to return the favor for all the free treats you've been giving me these past couple of months." you would be a fool not to accept, so of course-

you said yes to his offer.

{...}

you were able to go home an hour early thanks to ness' urging. when you told your co-worker about mike inviting you to dinner, he became the best wingman a girl could ever ask for and told you that he could take over the closing shift. he teases you, of course, begging you to invite him to the wedding as you brushed off his words when you finally clocked out and met with mike. he was standing close to his sedan, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans with a pair of sneakers. upon seeing your figure walking out of the diner, mike smiles at you, opening the passenger side of his door.

the moment you were in the car, you saw a girl with curly locks of dark brown hair coloring in her sketchbook. seeing the similarities between her and mike, you were quick to assume that this little girl was abby, mike's sister.

"hello, you must be abby. it's nice to meet you, i'm-"

abby then says your name, interrupting your introduction while still coloring in her sketchbook. "i know who you are. my brother talks about you all the time."

a mischievous smile was seen on abby's face, yet you felt flustered upon hearing her words. when mike enters the car, his hands were on the steering wheel as he looks back between you and abby. he seems to notice the change in your expression when he asks, "what happened? did i miss something?" "n-no! you didn't miss anything at all!" you reassure him with a smile on your face, yet was all too aware of abby's giggles from the back of the car. you hear something ripping from behind you as abby leans toward you, beckoning you to take the drawing from her hand. "mike's really shy, but i know he really likes you." "abby don't just-" the siblings begin to bicker back and forth, yet you couldn't hear them the moment you laid your eyes on the drawing in your hand. in it, the picture depicted you and mike holding hands in front of your diner with a big heart settled in between both of your figures. you smile to yourself and knew that this drawing was going to be your most beloved treasure. {...} the ride home was quick and uneventful, with mike telling abby to put her seatbelt back on as he drove home.

the moment you set foot within mike and abby's home, you were hit with the comforting scent of homemade meatloaf with mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese. the three of you shared heaping portions of food, making small talk about abby's school life and how she was doing so far. she faces mike while asking him, "can we take her to meet my friends later?" her question seems to make mike stiffen in response, with him taking a big swig of his class of water. "no, not now. maybe some other time, okay?" "but, i'm sure they'd really love her." "i'm sure they would too, but, not now, okay abby?"

"okay." there was a strange, melancholic expression that falls across her face, and you wondered just who her friends were. the rest of dinner became a little tense afterwards. when everyone had finished their meal, mike told abby to play in her room. "i'll clean up, so you go ahead and play as a reward for doing so well at school today." "okay!" abby gives you a knowing smile and a wink, before quickly darting off to her room. you had to shake off the feeling that abby was trying to set you up with mike as well, clearing your throat as you collected all of the dirty plates and utensils. "and i'll help you clean, mike. after all, that was a delicious meatloaf you cooked up. i ate every bit of it." mike's expression became sheepish once more as he took the plates and began washing them, "i'm glad you think so. to be honest with you, i'm still learning how to cook without relying on boxed meals, so it means a lot to me."

there was a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. as mike finished washing the dishes, you began drying them with a towel before setting them on the rack. when every plate and utensil had been washed and dried, you were left gazing up at mike. no words were spoken, yet you could feel yourself inching ever so closer to him. his warmth ensnared you, captivating you in the best of ways as mike placed the palm of his hand on your cheek. he whispers your name, sliding his eyes closed as he meets with your lips in a sweet kiss. with a soft moan, you kiss him back, allowing his chapped lips to perfectly slot against yours. you feel his hands at the back of your head, tangling his fingertips within your hair as he drew you closer to him.

as your chest met with his, you continued to bask in his sweet kiss. wanting, needing, and desperate for more. his taste was addicting, and you found yourself falling for him so deeply.

"mike, what's taking you so long-" abby's voice cuts through you, making you pull away from mike as you stared at the girl with wide eyes. abby looks between you and her brother and starts to giggle, "sorry for interrupting, take as long as you need!" she runs away once more, making you fall against mike with a groan. he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you while tracing his nose against the strands of your hair. "maybe it was a good thing that abby interrupted us, or else i never would have asked." you let out your own laughter in response. "ask what?" he pulls away from you, framing your face with his two hands while allowing the pads of his thumb to caress at your face. "will you be my girlfriend?"

you could feel a smile forming when you lean upwards to press your lips against his in another kiss, all while whispering to him, "but of course; for i would want nothing more than to be yours, mike schmidt."

a.n. - the fnaf movie was actually so cute and so much fun to watch, i loved it a lot too! this was written because mike schmidt deserves to be happy 🥹 he's been through so much! i apologize for any errors or mistakes, and will fix any errors/mistakes after posting.

this whole story was inspired by alicia key's 'you don't know my name,' so do give it a listen ♡

major edit notes 10/29/23 @11:30pm, changed matthew / matt's name to "ness," his canon character name in the movie.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #michael schmidt x reader #michael schmidt x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #.stories

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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago

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Steve glances down at his watch and looks around at the kids anxiously awaiting Eddie's arrival. He's five minutes late. In any other situation, this wouldn't be a lot, but considering that Eddie makes it a point to be either on time or (most likely) early to anything involving D&D with the party... it's highly concerning.

Steve glances at his watch again just to give himself something to do when Dustin finally bursts out, "Okay! This has to be a prank, right? Like someone has to be in on this."

Steve glances at all the other kids staring blankly at Dustin and finally decides to take matters into his own hands. "I don't think that's what's going on, Henderson, but thanks for the input. You guys stay here, and I'll go check on his place."

"I'm coming with you," Dustin states firmly.

Steve furrows his brows. "No, you're staying because if Eddie gets here and you're gone then that just means more waiting." When Dustin crosses his arms and continues staring, Steve sighs, digs his wallet out of his pocket, and hands Dustin a few bills. "Order a pizza and hang out for a bit or something. Walkie me if he gets here."

Dustin smiles brightly and takes the money immediately rushing off to Mike who is already on the phone calling the pizza place. Steve puts his hands on his hips and asks, "And what do you say?"

"Thanks, Mom," Mike says flatly, raising his eyebrows and looking entirely unimpressed.

"Thank you!" Lucas says as Will smiles and gives him a quiet, "Thank you, Steve."

Steve waits for Dustin who rolls his eyes and says, "Thank you. Now check on Eddie." Steve raises his eyebrows. Dustin sighs, "Please."

"You guys are going to be the death of me," Steve says as he makes his way up the Wheeler's basement steps. He wishes Max and El were there to have his back, but they had taken the chance to have a sleepover while the guys were too distracted to interfere with their girl time. He thinks calling Max to ask her to check on Eddie would also count as interfering.

It's not that Steve minds too much. Really, he rarely gets alone time with Eddie, and it's been a while since he's truly checked up on him. After the bats, Steve often went to his place and helped with wound care since he personally knew what he was going through. But as time went on and their injuries slowly turned into scars, it was harder to find excuses to see Eddie alone.

So, Steve settles for seeing him when the kids invite them both to something, and he's started to even hang around during their D&D sessions, soaking in all of Eddie that he can. He still refuses to play, too afraid of the kids making fun of him for getting confused, but he easily gets lost in the campaigns through Eddie's storytelling.

He thinks it's easy to get lost in anything Eddie's passionate about. It may go right over Steve's head, but he would do just about anything to listen to Eddie ramble - sometimes it might just be an excuse to stare at his lips, but no one (except Robin) needed to know that.

Steve nearly misses his turn while thinking a little too hard about Eddie's lips, but he makes it, turning into the trailer park and parking outside of Eddie's place fairly quickly. He sees Eddie's van in the driveway and takes a deep breath, hoping Eddie just somehow lost track of time or something.

Steve quickly rushes out of the car and knocks on the front door, waiting to hear Eddie's footsteps or grumbling as he makes it to the door.

But silence is the only thing coming from the other side.

Steve knocks harder, hoping the neighbors won't start snooping with all the noise he's making, especially when, a few seconds later, Steve decides he has waited long enough and pulls the door open. He quickly closes it and locks it on instinct as he calls out, "Eddie?"

The living room and kitchen are empty, but Steve doesn't hear the shower running, so he quickly bursts into Eddie's room calling out his name again.

His eyes fall on Eddie lying in bed with the covers tucked all around him, but his pale face is slightly visible through the dark strands of hair covering it. The last time Steve had seen him like this was in the upside down when...

"Eddie!" Steve says, rushing to the side of the bed and brushing the hair out of his face. He cups Eddie's face in his hands and nearly shakes him before he sees his brows twitch as he begins frowning.

"What..." Eddie groans out, eyes squinting open.

Steve breathes out a sigh of relief as he nearly tackles Eddie into a tight hug, ending up nearly on top of him.

"Good morning to you, too," Eddie jokes, squeezing Steve back. "Wait, what time is it?"

Steve pulls back and looks down at him. He runs a hand over his cheek, feeling the warmth of it against his palm, a reminder that he's okay. "It's past five, and it's Friday."

It takes a few moments before a look of realization crosses over Eddie's face, his eyes widening as he curses, "Shit! I couldn't sleep last night, and I decided to take a nap around... three? Maybe?" He shifts back on the bed and starts trying to sit up.

Steve places a hand on his chest and pushes him back down.

"Hello," Eddie says as a blush spreads across his face. "This is fun, but I have a dungeon to master," he jokes, showing off his dimples.

Steve nearly forgets how to breathe for a second, but he finally gets it together enough to say, "You and I both know how hard it is to sleep after everything, so if you're able to sleep now, then you're sleeping."

"I'm fine, re-" Eddie yawns and covers his mouth. "Really."

Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

Eddie sighs and turns on his side to directly face him. "Steve, the kids will kill me if I don't do this session tonight."

"And I'll kill them if they give you shit about it. Does tomorrow night work?"

"I mean, yeah, probably but-"

"Great," Steve interrupts as he stands up and grabs the walkie Eddie keeps on a designated shelf. "Hey, Dustin, this is Steve."

"Is it a code red? Over." Dustin immediately replies on the other side.

"No, everything is fine here. We just need to postpone until tomorrow night if that's fine with everyone."

"There is no postponing D&D!" Dustin screeches.

Steve sighs and replies, "If you complain again I'm giving you no rides or money for a month."

There's a long pause from the other side before there's a response, "Tomorrow works! See you then!" Lucas answers.

Steve looks back at Eddie and gestures toward the walkie. "See?"

Except, Eddie is already beginning to doze off again, head nodding and snapping up every few seconds.

Steve smiles and slowly makes his way back to the bed, gently guiding Eddie back down before tugging up the covers and leaning over to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead. "Goodnight."

As Steve begins to move back, Eddie's hand latches onto his wrist. He stares up at him sleepily and asks, "Stay? You need the sleep, too."

And he's right. He absolutely does need the sleep, and there's no way he's going to turn down the offer from Eddie, but... "Eddie, you're half asleep, you don't know what you're asking."

Eddie looks him in the eye and says, "I know exactly what I'm asking, and if I read the signs wrong then sue me."

Steve's heart beats a little faster in his chest. "Eddie..."

"Let's talk about feelings and everything when we wake up, okay? If you don't want to stay, that's okay. But know that I would want you here no matter what."

Steve looks down at him for a few seconds before he turns to take off his shoes. When he turns back, Eddie is smiling and holding the blanket up.

Steve accepts the invitation and finds himself wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him against his chest. Steve gently runs a hand through Eddie's hair, only stopping when Eddie grabs his hand and presses a gentle kiss against it.

Steve responds by bending down and planting a kiss on Eddie's head. He smiles when Eddie happily hums.

As Steve focuses on Eddie's breathing evening out, he finds himself matching it and slowly starts drifting off, falling asleep easily for the first time in a long time with happy thoughts of what's to come when they finally wake up.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things

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lovexjoe · 6 months ago

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how wwould armando react if he is in love with the reader, but she shows no sign of feeling the same way, (he's so devoted when it comes to the reader) And he'd like to know if she feels the same way, I wish it would end in a passionate way (you know what I mean) 🔥

New follower 💗💗♥️🌷

Amor Prohibido

A/N: This was meant to be short, but I took the idea and ran with it. I hope you guys enjoy🤍 I also flip around with pov; sorry in advance.

Warning: Forbidden love, angst, violence, smut (idk what else im missing 😭)

Music to listen to while reading:

Fuck Love - XXXtentacion ft Trippie Redd.

SAD - XXXtentacion

John Redcorn - SIR

Y/N has been working with AMMO for 2 years now.

Kelly was the firecracker and you were the reserved sweetheart. Just don’t let nobody cross a line cause you’ll turn into an explosive real quick.

Mike and Marcus loved having you around, you brought the balance to the squad.

Being Kelly’s little sister, you were protected by everybody, including your least favorite person: Armando.

You didn’t understand him at all. Stone cold killer trying to turn a new leaf? I don’t think so

The moment Mike brought him into Kelly’s house unannounced was the first time ANYONE has seen you explode.

“What the fuck is he doing here?! He needs to leave NOW” Kelly points her gun directly at Armando.

Without even a hesitation you pulled your pocket knife out and slammed Armando against the wall. Shoving the knife up to his neck, close enough to draw blood.

“I know who you are and if you’re working with us. Do not make us regret it or you WILL be my first body count” Y/N spoke with venom. She couldn’t stand that Captain wasn’t here because of him. All the trouble he's caused. Everyone stops and stares at the two of you.

“Holy shit! Since when did Y/N turned into a Cobra?” Marcus jokes causing the air to lighten up a bit.

“Puedes confiar en mi” (you can trust me) Armando says as he takes in how beautiful her eyes are. He fully understood where she was coming from. He knew he had to show everyone that he wasn’t a stone cold killer: it was his mother who trained him.

From that day forward Armando could not stop thinking about you.

Kelly with hesitation moved Armando into the guest bedroom, across from Y/N room. Y/N wasn't too happy about it, but she gave him a chance to redeem himself.

He was quiet, respectable and kept to himself. Observing everyone like he always does. Observing his new favorite person, you.

8 months later

Armando was up late after a mission with AMMO. He was on standby as Y/N flirts with the drug dealer to distract him. She looked beautiful under the club lights. Her tan skin was glowing and her curly hair framing her face. The dress she was wearing took his breath away. He's never seen her in this light. She's usually in a tomboy attire just cause it was comfortable and convenient. This was the first time she wasn't on tech duty, Dorn's therapist recommended he took a rest from the action so Y/N volunteered herself. He was happy she was here, but it drove him crazy that she had to flirt with this old fuck. The man trailed his hands along her exposed back. It took everything in Armando not to put a bullet through his head and accept whatever consequences that came with it. Shortly Rita appeared along with Mike to arrest the drug dealer, putting an end to his torture. Y/N headed back into the van with Armando following behind her: watching her back just in case. Mike took notice that he never left her side. He knew his son, because they were exactly alike and hoped Y/N could bring a softer side out of him. Their friendship was forming, Y/N saw a side to Armando that nobody else did and she finally trusted him. She would never admit to it though, because with that trust comes with other feelings she wanted to lock away. It felt wrong to her. More like forbidden.

After they got home, everyone parted ways to their designated space. He's been thinking about her in that dress all night. It was 3am and sleep was definitely not in the air for tonight. He started to collect the dishes he had scattered around the room, irritated he let it get a bit messy. As he exits his room he notices the door to Y/N's bedroom was open. The kitchen light was on, the sink running as Y/N was clearing up the dishes that piled up the sink for over a week. The whole house was slacking on cleanliness.

"Can't sleep?" He asks as he sets his dishes on the counter next to her. Now leaning against it as she shook her head looking up at him. His heart skipped a beat taking in her nightly attire. A baby blue silk nightie that hugged her curves. Her curly mane was up in a messy bun and her glasses set low on her nose as she didn't bother fixing it.

"I've been so restless for the past two weeks" She shook her head, trying to make sense of why. She signals her head for him to put the dishes away as she washes; He complies. Armando would comply to anything that you said honestly. He loved that it was just the two of you right now with no interruptions. They never talked much, just enjoyed each other's presence. Maybe tonight could end differently he thought to himself.

"You did a great job tonight amor. It was nice having you away from the computer." He places the last dish in the cabinet and proceed to grab a bottle of alcohol walking over to the couch. Everything in you was screaming to go back to your room and not entertain this conversation further, but your body was already seated next to him. He took a sip from the bottle without even a struggle, handing the bottle off to you. You took a huge gulp knowing you need some liquid coverage if you're gonna stay up with him at these hours. You knew why you were restless for the past two weeks, it was the exact time when you started developing these other feelings for Armando. The best thing you can do is DENY DENY DENY. After all he's still a bad person right? A few months doesn't mean anything...right? Yet you trusted him entirely, none of this made fucking sense.

"Qué estás pensando?" (What are you thinking about?) He studies her worried face, deep in her thoughts; wishing she'd let him in. She turns her body to completely face him, her bare legs resting on his.

"Are you happy here?" Your eyes searched his, hoping to find something...a soul maybe? Some reassurance that he's on the path of making himself a better man.

" Happy? I don't know what that is fully. But I can say, when I'm here with you I'm at peace." He spoked openly for the first time, his hand grazing against your exposed leg. At this point you were just looking into each other's eyes, wishing one of you would make the move first. He took his whole being not to show you how much he worships you on this couch, but he does not want to disrespect you in any way. Your body felt so hot, yearning for his touch. Slowly your head was leaning in, both of you breathing uneasy, his hand resting on your cheek; lips so close but not touching just yet. You never felt this way about anyone before. Relationships, feelings all of that love bullshit was so new to you. Love? Do you love him? No it definitely can't be. You shoved the thought away as you pulled away.

"I-I have to go" You set the bottle down, hurrying to your room and locking the door. Armando curses to himself for even entertaining what had happened. You were curled up in bed when you heard the front door slammed. He had left to god knows where and you hugged your pillow wishing it was him.

1 week later

The two of you have not spoken a word to each other since the almost kiss.

Armando had returned at 10am that morning with no emotion towards Y/N at all.

She went back on tech duty until today.

The tension could be cut with a knife the whole team noticed.

"You two lovebirds are fighting aren't you?" Mike teased.

You rolled your eyes as you prep your ammo before you made it to your destination. This is something Armando already had done for you anytime you were on a mission with him; today was not that day.

He felt guilty as he watched you out of his peripheral but he felt like it was time he stop pursuing this. If you wanted him you would have kissed him that night: not run away.

Callie has been kidnapped along with Mike's wife. We received coordinates on where they were being held hostage.

As you reached the destination, both you and Armando scooped out the scene. You felt something off about the coordinates.

Once you two made it inside, you heard crying that sounded like Callie. Armando signals you to stay as quiet as possible as you guys make your way through the abandon building.

Once you guys got closer to the voice, you both realize it was just a recording.

"Its a TRAP!! BOTH OF YOU ABORT NOW" Mike and Marcus yelled over the intercom.

Before you could even try to escape there were already men surrounding you guys. Gunshots being the only sound that filled the air. The both of you, took as many men as you could, with the help of the drone assisting. Armando hated more than anything to see you shed blood, but those combat training days you two had was worth it. You could hold your own. Your surroundings got quiet, as you shove a knife through your enemy's neck. You turned around hoping to see Armando following you, but you froze in your steps. Mcgrath had his gun pointed at you ready to shoot. You guys were out of ammo, the drone gave out and any slight movement Mcgrath would kill you.

Everything slowed down, you felt your world stopped as Armando jumps in front of you causing Mcgrath to let out 3 shots. Armando taking the impact of all of them. You heard the rifle go off after, Mcgrath being taken down by a headshot. You immediately wrapped your arms around Armando, trying to find any way to stop the bleeding. This can't be happening right now. No no no no. You applied as much pressure as you could.

"Armando please stay with me, I can't lose you. Please" You cried and screamed for help. Mike and Marcus rushed in helping you take Armando into ambulance. You REFUSED to leave his side. The nurses had to pry you and Mike off of him so they could take him into surgery.

Armando started off hated by everyone, but over the past few months he truly became family. You sat down on the floor of the lobby, looking down at your bloodstain hands and your heart broke. Will you ever get a chance to tell him how you really feel? He jumped in front of a gun for you with no hesitation. Callie and Mike's wife was safe, the rest of Ammo took care of the mission while you and Mike were on standby waiting for Armando's results.

3 hours later

You laid next to Armando's bedside, holding his hand waiting for him to wake up. Mike left a few minutes before, thanking you for staying with him as he returns to his wife.

"I love you so much" You whispered against his hand, placing a soft kiss against it.

"I love you too mi amor. Más de lo que jamás sabrás" (More than you will ever know) He says softly, squeezing your hand reassuring that everything is okay. With no hesitation you pressed your lips against his, both of you moaning into each other's lips.

"I had to get shot 3 times for you to finally kiss me mami" You both started laughing.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

4 months later

Armando was finally healed and better than ever. Rita released both of you on a well needed vacation. The two of you avoided any of "those" activities till the doctor cleared him. Everyone was finally relieved to see you two engulfed in each other; the angst was truly unbearable. You guys had the house to yourself after returning from your romantic dinner. His lips immediately on yours after he locks the front door. Melting into his touch as he pushes you against the hallway of your bedroom, leaving hickeys on your neck and he didn't give a fuck.

"Mando" You let out a soft cry as he sucks on your weak spot right below your ear.

"Recién estoy empezando princesa" (I'm just getting started princess) He whispers as he slips his fingers under your dress, rubbing you through your underwear. Your little cries only ignited his dominate side even more. He rips your underwear causing it to fall to your feet, teasing you with one finger.

"You're so wet" He works a second finger in causing your legs to weaken. He pumps his finger harder and faster till your pussy started to make a squelch sound.

"Baby! Im squirting I'm squirting please!" Your orgasm dripped down his hand, he smiles to himself taking in his view. His girl, completely weak in her knees for him and the night just started. He wraps your legs around his waist carrying you into the bedroom.

"You came like a good girl for me baby." He gives you your well deserve praise as he lays you down, removing your dress and his clothes. His size and length definitely matched his attitude. The kisses were hot and messy as you aligned him with your entrance. As he slips in, you both couldn't help the sounds escaping from your mouths. His thrusts were slow and deep causing your eyes to tear up from the intense pleasure. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder for a better angle. The sound of pants and skin slapping was all that could be heard in that room.

"I love you" You both said in unison as you came as the same time. He collapse on your chest and you played with his hair. You didn't speak for a little bit, just enjoying each other's presence.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Estoy feliz aqui" (I am happy here) He says as he kisses your chest.

The End

#armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #jacob scipio #bad boys

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happy74827 · 1 year ago

Text

Chaos Theory

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Mike's crazy schedule finally aligns with one of the so-called "parental meetings" at Abby's school, he decides to see what it's all about. Little did he know he'd come to seriously regret that.

WC: 2,590

Category: Slight Fluff

I failed an exam today, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. I still feel pretty crappy, but this was really fun to write lol.

Also if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn’t.

『••✎••』

When it came to Abby’s school, Mike was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t go to any of the parental meetings, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was constantly doing something work-related during the time those meetings were scheduled.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on her grades and school attendance. It just meant he couldn't be there for the day-to-day things. Abby was a good kid, though; she never gave him trouble about the things he missed, and she did a pretty good job of keeping her grades up and attending all her classes.

Her teacher, you, was also very understanding of his schedule and position. He wasn’t sure how many teachers would have been as patient with him as you were. It was part of the reason he had grown fond of you, though it had been a gradual process that happened mostly unbeknownst to him.

At the beginning of the year, he had only been concerned about getting Abby acclimated to her new school. She was a quiet kid, stuck to her drawings, and it was even hard for him to get her to open up sometimes. Runs in the family, apparently. But, somehow, you were able to break down the wall that had been erected around her. Abby still didn't talk all that much, but she would always come back from school with a smile on her face. So, Mike was happy.

Then, like all good things, it came crashing down like a house of cards when his work schedule finally aligned with one of the “upcoming” meetings. This one was apparently a very big deal, and it was strongly implied to show up.

He hated these things despite never going to any before, but he just knew it would be filled with nosey people asking questions about his life. His sister. His “wife.”

God, he was already annoyed. The only saving grace was that it was the last meeting before the holiday break, so once it was over, he would be free for a while. Free to do what, exactly? Work, most likely, but a guy can dream.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the school day and the start of his personal nightmare. The door to the classroom was opened by one of the school's assistants, who held a clipboard in hand and waited for the “parents” to enter the room. He had arrived earlier than the scheduled time so he could speak to the assistant and find out what the meeting would entail, and already he knew it was a bad idea coming in here.

The woman was a nosy old biddy that was all too eager to learn the details of his and Abby's life.

He kept his answers short and clipped, but it did nothing to dissuade the woman. It got worse when he entered the classroom and saw the number of other parents who had shown up. He felt like an animal in a zoo; all the eyes followed his movements as he went to sit closest to the wall and away from the rest of the people.

The surrounding parents looked as though they lived in the next town over. They were clean-cut, hair styled perfectly, and clothes ironed. It was like they were trying to be a picture-perfect family.

He looked down at his own attire. His work boots were scuffed and dusty. His pants had a few grass stains from a recent job. His flannel shirt was buttoned wrong, and the sleeves were pushed up. Even his hair was a mess; he had tried to style it but didn't have much success, so he eventually gave up. The only thing going for him was that he had taken a shower before he left, so at least he didn't smell like sweat and grime.

As the meeting began, Mike had to try his best not to fall asleep. It was the typical teacher stuff. How the kids were doing. What the curriculum was for the following year. What their goals were. Blah, blah, blah.

Mike didn't care. He trusted you, and he knew his little sister was smart. She didn't need someone holding her hand and telling her what she was doing right or wrong. He knew this because he did that, and she didn't need it.

What did interest him, though, was the fact you kept looking his way. You didn't look at the others, and when you spoke, it was usually aimed toward them, but he saw the way you would look at him from the corner of your eye. He figured you were probably in shock that he actually showed up this time.

The meeting dragged on, and he was ready to leave. There were a few moments he had caught himself nodding off as he needed sleep, and this wasn't helping him. But then, like everything else in his life, the universe decided it was his time to suffer.

There was one woman who had sat at the front of the classroom. She wore her hair pulled back tight in a bun, her shirt was pressed, and her face was set in a permanent frown. He hated that lady; she reminded him of his good-for-nothing aunt who only wanted to criticize every choice he made.

The lady was also the mother of the most spoiled, brattiest child in the whole class. That damned kid had made it her life mission to torment Abby. He had come home more than once with her complaining about it, and when Mike had brought it up with you, you had told him that you had spoken with the parent.

That, of course, had done nothing. The child was an annoying pest, and he hated the way she treated Abby, but his sister had learned early on to deal with the bullying on her own. It didn't stop him from wanting to throttle the little shit, though.

The woman, the one who had started all his problems, took the opportunity to start a round of questioning. The first few were innocuous until they weren't.

"You seem to be a very patient woman." The woman had spoken to you, but her eyes were locked on him. "Is it a skill that was learned?"

The question itself was innocent enough, but the inflection and tone she used were meant to cut. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was alluding to something. It was always something, but he had to force himself not to say anything; the woman was a viper, and if he said something, she would attack without hesitation.

"I think anyone can be patient," You had responded diplomatically. "It's just a matter of the situation."

The woman didn't look happy with your answer, but she didn't pursue the line of questioning.

"Well, I couldn’t help but notice a certain someone who decided to finally drop in."

There it was. That was the opening.

Mike could tell you didn’t like the turn of conversation, and you were clearly trying to divert it elsewhere. It was no use, though. Mike could see the glint in the woman's eye as she prepared for the kill. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold. "I was starting to think that Mr. Schmidt had abandoned his responsibilities. Wouldn’t be the first time someone in that family did such a thing."

He couldn’t help but have visions of his accidental mall incident from last year flash in his mind when he processed what the woman had said. He could easily hop over the desk and deck her right in the mouth. He had the muscle for it, and it was very tempting.

However, he would not.

If there was anything Mike had learned over the years, it was how to control his emotions, even if the situation was dire. The last time he had lost his cool, he ended up getting fired, but that was a long time ago… okay, not really, but the point was, he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction.

Mike leaned forward in his chair, arms crossed over his knees, and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "That's funny. I could say the same thing about your kid."

"Excuse me?!" She hissed, and she seemed offended. Good. He hoped she was offended.

"Okay, okay." You intervened, hands up as if to placate the two of them. "Let's keep this civil, okay? The last thing we want is to be kicked out of the school for brawling. That's not beneficial for any of us." You then looked back at the woman. "Let's not bring personal matters into this."

"Personal matters?" The woman was appalled at your statement, and her voice was so loud in the quiet room. He could tell many of the other parents were looking at them now, and he felt the weight of their gazes on him. It only made his anger spike. "That monkey of his tried to bully mine for three months now, and she's never done anything."

Monkey? Monkey?! Oh, he was going to kill her. It was one thing to talk shit about him; he was used to that, but Abby? No. Absolutely not. His little sister was the best damn thing to come into his life. He wouldn't have it.

But before he could say something, before he could even get out of the chair, you had done something he would never have thought you would. You got up and went to your desk, then you returned, holding a paper. You held it up for all the parents to see.

"This is a drawing my students did a few weeks ago," you started, and he was surprised at the level of calmness you were exuding. "The assignment was for them to draw the thing they loved the most."

Hearing those words, Mike had a feeling what was coming next, but he wasn't going to say anything. It would be like tempting fate. Still, he watched as you grabbed one of the papers, and then you turned it around so he could see it. Abby had done the drawing, and it was not only of him but of everyone else in her class as well. She had even drawn you standing near her with a kind smile. It was the picture she had brought home from that field trip months ago. It was a nice picture. Really nice. He liked it, and he knew Abby was proud of it.

"I made copies of every drawing so the parents could see them," You continued as you held out the picture for everyone to see. "So, tell me, would a bully do this?"

Your voice had a bite to it now, and he could finally see just how angry you were. He was surprised at how much control you were exerting. The other parents, however, were shocked at your sudden display of emotion. Even the woman, who had looked as though she was ready to take you on herself, looked like a deer caught in headlights. She didn't know what to say. No one said anything. Even he was shocked by your sudden outburst.

You were normally such a mellow person. Understanding, even. Always ready to listen, always ready to understand. You were the one who was there to help when something went wrong. You were the person who everyone turned to. You were… nice. You were a kind person. You were—you were just like Abby. That's all he saw in you now. You were just like his sister. You were just like her. You had that same determination and that same look of knowing something that others didn't, but there was also something else. You were a fighter, too. It was just something he hadn't noticed until this very moment.

You weren't the nice teacher everyone thought you were. No, you were more. You were the person he knew his sister was becoming.

"And to answer your question from before," you continued, ignoring the growing outrage from the other parent. "I'm a very patient woman because I understand that not everyone has the same opportunities. Some of us have a responsibility to provide the basic necessities for our family, which can often lead to not being able to attend these types of meetings.”

You looked directly at the woman when you spoke the last part, and you did not look happy. At all. In fact, he was pretty sure that was a little vein on the side of your head.

"Not everyone can be at their best every moment. Not everyone is at their best all the time. Not everyone has the privilege to complain about things not going their way. So, while I am a very patient woman, I will not have any of this derogatory about my students and their guardians." The calmness in your voice was gone, and your voice was rising, and you had started pacing back and forth behind your desk as you spoke. "Because if there is one thing that I cannot stand, it's someone who criticizes others just to make themselves feel better."

You went on to speak about your experience with the woman's daughter, explaining that a meeting needed to be called upon to address the issues with the child. You didn't stop there, though. No, you also spoke about how she should have addressed the situation when it was first brought up and how that, in turn, impacted the rest of your class. You had even pointed out some of the other parent's children who had done the same thing.

Suddenly, this meeting wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

It took a while, but once you finished your little speech, everyone had finally gotten over their shock and embarrassment. The meeting, as such, continued without incident, and by the time it was all said and done, Mike was ready to go home.

As he stood from his seat and made his way to the door, however, you stopped him. You had your bag in your hand and your coat on as well.

"I just wanted to—"

"You don't need to apologize," Mike cut you off. He didn't want an apology. He knew you weren't at fault here. In fact, he was surprised you took the time even to defend him. That didn't happen often. "I was expecting something like that to happen, but I appreciate you speaking up for Abby. She's got a good teacher."

He thought you would be embarrassed or even annoyed, but instead, your face lit up, and your cheeks turned red. "Oh, uh, well, it's my job. It was what I needed to do."

"Maybe, but you did it anyway. So, I appreciate it." He looked around the room and noticed everyone else had left. Even the nosy assistant had disappeared. He didn't know what to say, so he settled with saying the first thing that came to mind. "And hey, maybe next time you can tell them this is why I don't go to these meetings."

Your laugh was light, and you had a smile on your face. He liked the sound of it. He liked seeing it, too. He also liked the way it lit up your eyes. They had a beautiful color. So bright, so shiny. It was almost hypnotic.

"I'll consider it."

Mike wasn't sure how, but somehow, he knew you were telling the truth.

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louloulemons-posts · 1 year ago

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Cuddle Bug

Eddie Munson X reader

Summary : Eddie isn’t very well and the only person who can make him feel better is reader.

Word Count : 1.6k

Warnings : not proofread, fluff, poorly eddie, eddie takes medication, touch starved eddie, eddie just loves reader so much.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You and Eddie had been dating for 3 months now and it had been great, you’d been friends for a while and then it somehow became more. It was so natural, easy, the pair of you had never felt this way.

However, Eddie wasn’t one to be overly affection, well physically that is. The boy was touch starved, and although Wayne loved his nephew, he was brought up seeing very little affection himself. So when Eddie ended up with him, he didn’t really know how to parent.

It was pats on the shoulder, ruffles of hair, awkward, but loving smiles. That showed in Eddie, when you first held his hand and kissed his cheek he freaked, he didn’t know if it was normal or not.

He ended up speaking to Nancy Wheeler about it, Steve would make fun, Robin didn’t date, Wheeler was different. She had told Eddie it was okay, telling him that Mike had trouble being physically affectionate due to seeing their fathers blatant lack of interest towards their mother and his own children.

It gave Eddie some comfort, making him relax when you showed gentle touches, when he also showed you. He loved touching you, even if it was the brushing of fingers as you walked side by side, Eddie loved it.

However, he didn’t expect to wake up one day and be craving your touch to the point he could cry. He had been quiet all morning, Wayne asking if he was alright, to which the boy had only grunted.

He was even more miserable going to school, knowing you wouldn’t be there until lunch, having to go for an appointment. He actually considered skipping, but Wayne shoved him out the door.

Eddie felt awful, sluggish, grouchy, he was just in an awful mood. “What’s that face?” Gareth asked, as the boy walked over, dropping his cigarette butt on the floor.

“What?”

“You look like your worlds ending.”

“I’m fine,” he said, snapping slightly. Sighing he spoke again, “Sorry, let’s just go to class.”

“Sure,” the younger boy nodded, worrying for his friend.

Eddie was uncharacteristically quiet in class, not making any jokes, not tapping on the desk, he was resting his head on his arms. The lights were too bright, noise was amplified, his body ached, he needed you.

“You okay?” Gareth asked quietly.

“Hm?” The curly haired boy friend his face to his friend. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost,” he joked, head banging when he chuckled, making him wince.

“Maybe you should see the nurse.”

“I’m good man, don’t worry.” He knew that his friend thought he was lying, and he wasn’t wrong to think that. He felt horrible.

“Mr Munson, last time I checked my class was English, not nap time, focus please,” the teacher scolded. Eddie lifted his head, holding it in his hand, worried he couldn’t keep it up without.

This was gonna be a long day.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

It was indeed the longest day of Eddie Munson life, he had to drag himself to lunch. Barely able to sit in the cafeteria with all of the chatter, all of the Hellfire boys were concerned for their DM.

Sat massaging his temples he sighed, what was wrong with him? “Hey Eddie,” Dustin spoke. “What?” he said, voice quiet.

“Look,” the young boy spoke, motioning to the door.

There you were, making your way through the crowd of people, he could have burst in to tears then and there. Pushing up carefully he made his way over to you.

Engulfed by a hug, your eyes went wide, “Eddie?” you spoke softly, arms coming to wrap around him. “Missed you,” he said, nuzzling into your neck.

You were taken aback, Eddie wasn’t this affectionate in private, let alone public. “Are you alright?” you asked.

“Mm, just missed you. How was the appointment?” he pulled away, hands on your waist.

“It was fine,” you said simply, hand coming to touch his face, “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine.”

“Baby you’re sick.”

“No-“

“Eddie, don’t argue with me. We’re going home.”

“What? No, you only just got here, you’re gonna make me be all alone?” he whined.

“I said we, come on,” linking your fingers you went to the Hellfire lunch table, saying hi to the boys and picking up Eddies stuff.

“He’s not well, so I’m taking him home,” you explained. “I’m fine!” Shooting him a glare the boy quietened. “You’ve been ill all day man,” Gareth said.

“Why didn’t you go home?” you asked.

“I-I,” the boy stuttered, unable to give an answer, he knew what it was, but didn’t want to say in front of the guys.

“Come on let’s go.” You carried both yours and Eddies things, holding his hand also and led him out of the school. “Keys please,” you said.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re not driving like this, I’ll drive.”

“What about your car?”

“Dad dropped me off.” Eddie sighed, but complied, taking his keys out of his pocked and dropping them into your hand.

He climbed in the van slowly, instantly resting his head against the window. “What’s not feeling good?” you asked.

“Everything.”

“I think you’ve got the flu.”

“I don’t get sick.”

“Baby,” you sighed, as you put the keys in.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, and that’s okay. It’s okay to be sick, I’m gonna take care of you. Now do you want to go to mine or to the trailer?”

“Can we go home?”

“Sure baby,” you said, brushing his curls gently before beginning the drive. The boys head rested against the cool window for the entirety of the drive, eyes closed.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Eddie,” you whispered, “Baby we’re home.” Eyes fluttering open, you were back at the trailer, the boy winced once more at the light. “Come on, let’s get you in.”

Eddie moved slowly, his whole body sore, heavy. He felt like he would fall if he didn’t sit down soon. Your arm wrapped around his middle, helping him, you saw him sway on his feet.

Pushing open the door, you spoke to Eddie softly, “You go get into something comfy, I’m going to talk to Wayne.” He whined, trying to keep you close to him. “It’s okay baby, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He huffed, slowly making his way to his room, hands on the wall the whole way to support him. “Eddie, what did I tell you about skipping- oh hello Honey,” Wayne Munson spoke, slightly confused with your presence.

“Is everything alright?” he questioned.

“Eddie has a fever so I brought him home, I was wondering if you’d mind me staying to look after him?”

“Our home is yours, you’re always welcome. I’ll find you some medication for him.”

Once you explained his headache, sensitivity to light and sluggishness, Wayne handed you some tablets and a glass of water. “This should help, keep his room dark too, and he’ll need to sweat out a fever.”

“Of course, thank you.”

“Thank you for looking after my boy,” he said, squeezing your shoulder, before nodding and walking back to the couch to continue what he was doing before.

Pushing open Eddies door with your hip, you frowned at the sight before you. Clothes were dropped on the floor, his pyjama draw open. Eddie himself was lay under his quilt, the top his his curls the only indication that it was him.

“Baby, I’ve got some things to make you feel better,” you spoke softly, not wanting to hurt his head. He groaned as he moved from under the blanket, the sunlight attacking his skin.

“Hang on, let me get the curtains,” you said, placing the pills and water next to him, quickly pulling them closed. They weren’t the best, but they did make the room a bearable light for the boy.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as you got on the bed next to him, he took the medication with ease, sipping the water. “Why did you go to school if you felt bad?” you asked, playing with his hair.

“Wanted to see you,” he said, voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Oh Eds,” you kissed his cheek. “Will you stay?”

“Of course I will, let me change.”

“Can we … um, can we,” he huffed, frustrated that he couldn’t get his words out. Sliding out of your jeans and top, you picked up Eddies hellfire shirt, allowing it to cover your skin.

You climbed under the covers next to him, “What baby?”

“Can we, if you want, could we cuddle?” Your heart melted at that, even though he was feeling horrible he still nervously twiddled his thumbs.

“Of course we can,” you smiled at him, shuffling down. He pulled you gently, so you could lay your head on his chest, “Your so warm,” he hummed.

Kissing his chest softly, you smiled up at him, snuggling into his hold. “I’m sorry we don’t do this much I just … it’s hard, but I really like being like this with you.”

“Eds-“

“I just don’t ever want you to think that I’m just with you for sex or just for the sake of having a partner. I love being close with you.”

“I love it too,” pressing another gentle kiss to skin, this time his chin. “You’re gonna get sick,” he said.

“That’s okay, you can look after me then.”

“That I can do, be ready for a solid week of cuddles.”

“Whatever will I do?” you laughed. The boy hummed, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry you’re not very well.”

“It was worse when you weren’t there, I feel so much better now.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, I love being with you. I think I love you.”

“I think I love you too.”

In sync your faces broke into smiles, before Eddie winced, his head still sore. “Rest baby,” you said softly, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

A/N : I kind of want to write another instalment of Margot, let me know if you’d be interested 🫶🏻

Please leave any requests 🤍

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ruewrote · 2 months ago

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𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

PAIRING: mike munroe x fem!reader WARNINGS: too little too late, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: i know you by faye webster WORD COUNT: 1k

navigation | ask | michael munroe masterlist

you found yourself once again caught up in the tangled drama that was michael monroe. you and mike had always had an undeniable connection. one with stolen glances, inside jokes, the kind of chemistry that hovered just shy of something real.

but as soon as emily and jessica started competing for his attention, you’d backed off, deciding to not get wrapped up in someone else’s chaos. it was easier to watch from the sidelines, letting your feelings slowly drift into the background. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

but here you were, sitting beside him on the edge of a worn couch in the lodge, both just soaking up the atmosphere of the now quiet lodge. most of the group had gone to bed, leaving you and mike to sit alone in the dimly lit room.

you’d come down for a late night snack and found him sitting there, looking ost in thought. you almost turned around, but when he looked up and met your gaze, he gave a small smile, motioning for you to join him.

“so,” he said, breaking the silence after a moment, “still awake, huh?”

“could say the same to you,” you replied, settling into the cushion beside him, careful to keep some distance.

he chuckled, leaning forward and rubbing his hands together as if trying to warm them by the fire. “yeah, guess i just can’t sleep with everyone up here again. reminds me of the last time we were all together…before everything got so complicated.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “by ‘complicated,’ do you mean the whole emily versus jess war?”

mike’s expression softened, almost guilty. “yeah, that’s part of it.” he glanced sideways at you, eyes flicking over your face. “kinda miss when it was just…simple, you know?”

you raised an eyebrow, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. “maybe it wasn’t ever simple. maybe we just wanted it to be.”

he didn’t respond right away, just stared into the fire, looking pensive. there was a time when a pause like this would have meant something. a heartbeat of possibility. but that was before..

“didn’t think it’d end up like this,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “feels like we’re all different people now.”

“yeah, well, some people change more than others,” you replied, trying to keep the edge out of your voice. you hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but seeing him in front of you. just you and him. stirred up all those old memories, the times you’d wondered if maybe he felt the same way.

the question you’d never gotten around to asking because, sooner than you’d realised, there was jessica draped over his shoulder, or emily fuming by his side.

his mouth twitched, and he looked over at you, that familiar, easy smile tugging at his lips. “is that your way of saying i messed up?”

“maybe,” you said, meeting his gaze, unflinching. “or maybe it’s just me realising i made the right call in staying out of it.”

“ouch,” he said, but there was a glint in his eye, and he didn’t look away. “guess i deserved that.”

you bit back a smile, leaning back on the couch, feeling a bit more at ease as the memories softened the edges of your irritation. “you absolutely did.”

mike laughed, the sound light, almost free. “you know,” he began, leaning back as well, mirroring your position, “there was a time when i thought maybe…you and i…”

“don’t,” you cut in, holding up a hand, a half hearted warning. “don’t even go there.”

“what?” he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes a little more serious. “afraid i’ll ruin your pristine opinion of me?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “what opinion? the one where you’re a magnet for relationship drama?”

he grinned, but there was something softer in his gaze now, almost regretful. “maybe i am. but if i am, it’s only because i got distracted…didn’t go after what i really wanted.”

a flicker of surprise flared in your chest, and for a second, you could feel that “what ifs” creeping back. “and what was that?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

the room seemed to still as he held your gaze. “i think you know.”

the words hung between you, their meaning clear, yet unsaid. there was something vulnerable in his expression, something you hadn’t seen before. you swallowed, the weight of your choice pressing down on you.

there was a part of you that wanted to reach out, to close the space between you and see if the years of missed chances had only made the spark stronger. but another part quickly remembered the way your other friends felt about him.

you glanced away, breaking the spell. “too bad you didn’t realise it sooner.”

he nodded slowly, his face falling just a bit. “yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. “too bad.”

the silence was thick, filled with all the unspoken things that had been left behind. you could feel the shift, sealing off a path you’d once been tempted to take. maybe it was for the best. you’d walked away from his chaos once, you could do it again.

but just as you were about to stand, he reached out, his hand catching yours in a gentle, hesitant grip. his fingers were warm, grounding you in the present moment, pulling you back before you could leave. you looked down at his hand, then back at him, a question in your eyes.

“hey,” he said, his voice softer, a little unsure. “i know i’ve made my share of mistakes. but…maybe this time, we could try again. just you and me. no drama. no distractions.”

you swallowed, his words stirring something long buried. but the memories of watching emily’s furious glances and jessica’s possessive hand holding still lingered, reminding you of all the things that could go wrong.

you slipped your hand free, giving him a small, sad smile. “maybe, mike. maybe someday.”

he nodded, the faintest hint of a sad smile tugging at his lips.

“i’ll hold you to that.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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lizzie-boo · 9 months ago

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Baby, You're My Type

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Words: 804

Summary: When someone unexpected asks you on a date it brings some new information to light. And long-overdue conversations are had.

A/N: Slowly getting back into writing, I'm very rusty so please bear with me. Hope you enjoy it. I should have a few more small fics coming out in the next few days while I still have some time off.

The Hellfire club was just finishing up a section of their campaign when you burst through the door, eager to share your news. You throw yourself into an open seat, leg bouncing as you wait for Eddie to stop talking. You lean over the table, fingers tapping as you stare at your best friend.

As soon as he closes his mouth the words were spilling out, “The funniest thing ever just happened.”

Everyone begins packing their things and Eddie quirks a brow in your direction. When all you do is stare at him with a wide grin he gestures for you to continue.

“Jason just asked me on a date,” you laugh as the rest of the room goes quiet. The older members of the group are quick to rush out the door not wanting to see where this conversation goes. Dustin on the other hand stops shoving papers into his backpack and settles in, ready to watch the drama.

Lucas and Mike tug at his arms, not wanting to stick around longer than necessary. “Let’s go,” Mike hisses. His eyes darting between you and Eddie.

"Now," Lucas urges.

“I want to see how this plays out,” Dustin whines, catching your attention. Your laughing dies as you take in the worried look of the younger group members and realize that maybe your news wasn’t as funny as you thought.

“You should go out with him.” You whip around, eyes wide. The click of the door behind you is all you need to let you know that only you and Eddie are left to finish this conversation.

You open and close your mouth, trying to figure out the right combination of words. Something that will get through to Eddie and let him know just how ridiculous he is being. Before you can find the words Eddie continues, “I mean you do seem excited about it.”

Finally you stand up and make your way toward him, leaning on the table just in front of his chair. Your fingers wrap around the edge of the table, gripping it tight.

“I was only excited to share the news because it’s crazy and I found it funny.”

“I don’t see what would be that funny about it.” He leans forward in his seat. The small gap between you grows smaller but neither of you back down. The smell of his cheap cologne floods your senses and for a moment you forget what you are talking about.

“He’s not my type, not even close to my type. Everyone knows that, so it’s funny that he thought he would ever have a chance.” The way you lips quirk up at the end of your sentence is not missed by Eddie. His eyes practically glued to your lips as you speak.

“Are you sure, he seems like he would be your type.” There’s an edge to his voice that has you gripping the table harder. How can he still think that you would be into someone like Jason when you have always made it clear that you would never be caught dead with someone that arrogant.

You chew on your lip, contemplating if you really want to say what you’re about to. Taking a deep breath you tell Eddie, “My type is metalheads, with crazy hair, tattoos, and a love for nerdy things like dungeons and dragons.”

He taps his fingers against the arm of his chair, pretending to think about your revelation. You scan the room, trying to find anything to hold your attention so you can avoid looking at Eddie.

“I thought you said everyone knew your type, but I never knew that’s what you’re into.” He stands from his chair inching ever closer. His warm breath hits your face and finally you turn your gaze back to him.

Your heart flutters as you take him in up close. Mustering all the courage in you, you tell him, “I made it painfully obvious for so long, but in case you still can’t see it this should help.”

He quirks a brow at your cryptic words and you bunch your hands in his shirt pulling him closer. Pressing your lips into his you let out all the pent up emotion you have been holding in. His arm slips around your waist pulling you closer as his other slides up to cup your cheek.

When you pull back, you can’t help but to smile. “In case it still wasn’t clear, you’re my type Eddie, just you.”

“Hmm, I never would’ve guessed,” he jokes. “That’s good though, ‘cause baby, you're my type too.”

Lifting you slightly he sets you fully on the table intent on making up for lost time. As your lips find his you wrap your legs around his waist and get lost in the happiness of finally being with Eddie.

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson fluff #stranger things s4

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lovelygirlwithablog · 2 months ago

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Heart on Trial | part 1

pairing: Harvey Specter x f!lawyer!reader

summary: Harvey Specter doesn’t let anyone in. But when his trusted associate starts slipping past his defenses, he’s forced to confront the feelings he’s tried to ignore. Torn between pride and desire, Harvey finally faces the truth—and this time, he’s willing to risk everything for you.

warnings: angst, mild language, slow burn, explicit content, smut, dirty talk, extra fluff, use of Y/N

word count: 2399 (bruh)

A/N: i came up with this idea after the first episode with Scottie; i kinda hate but love her at the same time (pls don't kill me) and i already feel Christmas coming so i wanted to make something winter themed ❄️ requests are open!

You always knew Harvey Specter was dangerous. Not in the obvious ways—the smug smirk, the razor-sharp suit, the ego big enough to fill his corner office. No, what made him truly dangerous was the way he could make you feel with just a look.

As his associate, you’d gotten used to being his confidante, his sparring partner, and sometimes the one person he could depend on when things got messy. But lately, it’s been different. There’s a spark simmering under every exchange, a tension that neither of you wants to name. And yet, every day, you find yourself pulled back into his orbit, craving the thrill of his attention while knowing it can never go further.

Until it does.

The stack of case files on your desk seemed to grow every hour. Between prepping depositions, reviewing contracts, and tackling the endless demands of high-profile clients, you barely had time to breathe. Pearson Specter was always high stakes, but today felt like a marathon. You glanced at the clock—already well past the time any sane person would have left the office.

In the quiet lull of the late evening, you caught sight of Harvey’s empty office across the hall, lights off, door slightly ajar. It was rare to see his space unoccupied; his presence filled the floor even when he wasn’t around. You tried to shake off the thought.

Tonight, though, you pushed those thoughts aside. You had your own cases to handle, and letting Harvey Specter occupy any more space in your mind was a risk you couldn’t afford—especially when your work was demanding every last bit of focus you had left.

You were deep in thought, lost in a mountain of documents, when you heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. Glancing up, you saw Mike Ross heading your way, a lopsided grin on his face that made it impossible not to smile back.

“Hey, do you have a second?” he asked, leaning casually against your desk, his eyes sparkling with that hint of mischief you’d come to love.

“Always for you,” you replied, raising an eyebrow playfully. “What’s going on?”

“I need your genius brain for a minute,” he said, feigning seriousness but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips. “I’m trying to figure out the Thompson case, and I think I might be missing something important. Can you help me out?”

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you regarded him with mock suspicion. “You mean you just want to avoid doing all the hard work yourself?”

“Hey, I thought we were friends!” he laughed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “But seriously, I’d really appreciate your input. You always see things I miss.”

“Alright, alright,” you said with a chuckle, pushing aside the files in front of you. “Let’s take a look."

Time passed away fast. The soft hum of the office lights felt more pronounced in the quiet, and you could sense that it was time to wrap things up.

"Alright, I think we’ve gone through enough for tonight," Mike said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

You chuckled, glancing at the scattered files on your desk. "Yeah, I guess we’ve done enough detective work for one evening."

Mike stood up, pushing his chair back with a grin. "I’ll race you to the elevator. Loser buys the first round of drinks next time we go out."

"Oh, you’re on!" you replied, jumping to your feet. You both made a break for the door, laughter hearing in the empty office as you raced down the hallway.

As you walked toward the exit, you could feel the chill in the air creeping in through the glass doors. When you pushed the door open and stepped outside, you were greeted by a breathtaking sight. Snowflakes were falling gently from the sky, blanketing the city in a soft, white layer. The streetlights cast a warm glow on the freshly fallen snow, making it sparkle like diamonds.

“Wow, it’s snowing!” you exclaimed, momentarily mesmerized by the beauty of it.

“Looks like we’re in for a winter wonderland,” Mike said, a grin spreading across his face. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. “Well, I should get going before the roads get too bad. You’ll be okay getting home?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you assured him, though you were aware of the distance you still had to walk.

“Alright, see you tomorrow!” he called, giving you a quick wave as he turned and started down the sidewalk, his figure slowly disappearing into the snowy haze.

You watched him go, the thrill of the snowfall filling the air around you. Just as you were about to head in the opposite direction, you heard a familiar voice call out.

"Hey, Y/N!"

Turning, you saw Harvey striding toward you. He looked effortlessly handsome, even in the cold, wearing his tailored coat with a purposeful air.

“Harvey!” you replied, a smile breaking across your face. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just heading out and thought I’d check in,” he said, his gaze flickering to the snowfall around you. “I see you’re still working. You shouldn’t be out here alone in this weather.”

“I was just about to head home,” you said, brushing off the concern. “Mike just left.”

“Let me give you a ride,” he offered, the warmth in his voice making you feel at ease despite the cold. “It’s not safe to be out in this.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at the snow piling up on the sidewalk, then nodded. “Okay, that would be great. Thanks.”

With a slight nod, Harvey led you back toward his car.

Harvey opened the car door for you, his hand brushing against yours as you slid into the passenger seat. The warmth inside was a welcome contrast to the cold outside.

As he drove, the soft glow of the streetlights illuminated his profile, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and his gaze.

“Here we are," he said as he pulled up in front of your building. The snow continued to fall.

“Thanks for the ride, Harvey,” you said softly.

He just nodded and looked at you with those beautiful, brown eyes.

As you stepped out of Harvey’s car, the chilly air hit you, but you still felt a bit warm from the ride. You wrapped your scarf tighter and waved goodbye.

Once inside your apartment, you kicked off your shoes and tossed your coat over a chair. You wandered into the kitchen and made a cup of tea, breathing in the warm, cozy smell.

You plopped down on the sofa with your tea in hand, feeling finally relaxed.

The next morning, you arrived at the office. As you settled into your desk, you barely had time to open your laptop before Jessica’s voice rang out.

"Y/N L/N. Come in my office. Now."

You felt a jolt of nerves and quickly made your way to her office, knocking lightly on the door before stepping inside. Jessica was already on the phone, concentrated. She ended the call and gestured for you to sit.

“I need you to take on a case,” she said, her voice firm. “It’s time-sensitive.”

You blinked, processing her words. “What kind of case?”

“It’s against Harvey’s client,” she replied, locking eyes with you.

You felt your stomach drop. “But… that means I’m going to work against Harvey.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jessica said, her tone unyielding. “I need someone I can trust, and you’re the best fit for this. Here’s the situation: the client is being accused of fraud in a high-profile deal, and the evidence is stacked against them. We need to prove their innocence quickly, or they could face serious consequences.”

You blinked, trying to process the implications. “What exactly do I need to do?”

Jessica leaned forward, her expression serious. “I need you to gather evidence, interview key witnesses, and build a defense strategy. You’ll have to dig deep, and it may involve getting information that’s tightly held. It’s going to be challenging, but I believe you can handle it.”

Your heart raced as you considered the weight of the task ahead. “But working against Harvey—”

“I know it’s complicated,” she interrupted, her tone softening slightly. “But this isn’t personal. It’s about doing what’s right for our client. And if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words. “Okay, I’ll do it,” you said, though uncertainty hung in your throat.

"Good. I’ll brief you on the details and put you in touch with our investigators,” Jessica said, already pulling up the case files on her computer.

You nodded, steeling yourself for what was to come, knowing you were about to step into a conflict that could change everything.

You returned to your desk, feeling a mix of determination and anxiety swirling within you.

You opened the case files Jessica had given you and immersed yourself in the details, focusing on the accusations of fraud and the evidence against the client. With each page you turned, the weight of the situation pressed down harder, but you pushed through, reminding yourself that you had a job to do.

As the hours passed, you stole glances at Harvey’s office, half-expecting him to come out and greet you with his usual confidence. But he was deeply engrossed in his own work, the door mostly closed, leaving you to your thoughts. You didn’t have the courage to approach him, not when you were about to undermine everything he was working on.

You were on opposite sides now, and that realization stung more than you expected.

Lunchtime came and went, and you barely noticed as you powered through your research. The few times you encountered Mike, he greeted you.

By the time the clock struck six, you had gathered a solid amount of information but felt drained from the emotional toll. You stood up, stretching and rubbing your neck, ready to head out for the day. Just as you were about to grab your things, you looked over to Harvey’s office one last time.

He was still there, leaning over his desk, completely focused on his work. A small part of you wanted to go in, to say something, but you hesitated, knowing you couldn’t. Instead, you sighed softly and walked toward the exit, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders.

As you left the office, the snowy streets greeted you once again, but this time, it felt different. The magic of the snowflakes didn’t reach you the way it had the night before.

Days passed, each one feeling heavier than the last. You worked diligently on the case Jessica assigned you, but every time you passed Harvey’s office, your stomach twisted with guilt. He was busy with his own cases, and you were careful to avoid him.

Finally, one evening, the office was quiet. Most of the staff had gone home, and you were focused on your work, buried in documents, when you heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up just in time to see Harvey standing in front of your desk, arms crossed, his expression a mix of frustration and concern.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low and tense.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you replied, feeling your heart race as you tried to maintain your composure. You stand up and look at him.

"You’ve been avoiding me for days,” he said, his tone sharper than usual. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I’ve just been busy with my new case,” you said, hoping it would suffice.

“Busy? That’s it?” He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “You don’t just ignore someone like this without a reason. What’s really going on?”

You took a deep breath, knowing you couldn’t keep avoiding it. “I… I’m working against your client, Harvey. Jessica put me on the fraud case,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His expression shifted, the anger giving way to disbelief. “What do you mean? You’re working against me?”

“I didn’t want to!” you exclaimed, frustration bubbling over. “Jessica needed someone to take the case, and she thought I could handle it. I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“By completely avoiding me?” he shot back, his voice rising. “That’s not how this works! We’re supposed to be a team, and you’ve turned your back on me.”

You felt your heart race, anger flaring in response to his accusation. “I didn’t turn my back on you! I was trying to protect you! I thought it would be easier if I just stayed away.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a step away before turning back to you, frustration etched across his face. “Easier for who? Because it’s not easier for me, standing here wondering why the hell you won’t talk to me. I thought we had each other’s backs, no matter what.”

“We do!” you argued, your voice rising as the tension crackled in the air. “But this situation is complicated. I didn’t want to create conflict between us. I thought if I just kept my head down, it would be less messy.”

His eyes softened slightly, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “Less messy? This is a mess. You should have come to me, talked to me. Instead, you chose to shut me out. Do you even understand how that feels?”

Your chest tightened at his words, the weight of guilt crashing over you. “I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it on my own. I didn’t want to drag you into this.”

He stepped closer again, his voice low and heated. “You think this is just business for me? You think I can separate this from everything else? I care about you, and it hurts when you act like I don’t matter.”

“Maybe we both need some space,” you finally said, your voice barely a whisper, feeling the weight of those words settle between you.

“Yeah, maybe,” he replied, his eyes searching yours as if looking for an answer neither of you could find.

As he stepped back, the moment fractured, leaving a lingering ache in the air. You knew this was far from over, and the unspoken feelings hung like a storm cloud, threatening to burst at any moment.

To be continued ...

#suits usa #suits tv #suits x reader #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter #fanfic #angst #slow burn #part one #mike ross #use me pls #gabriel macht #friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #so hot 🔥🔥🔥

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0nerd-at-heart0 · 11 months ago

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The Stress of a Case

Harvey Specter x Female Reader

Please Read: Hello! It's been a hot minute since I have published anything. Have been currently studying for my LSATS and have been a busy bee but after being obsessed with Suits for the past 2 years and waiting for more Harvey stories to be published I decided to create my own little storyline. What started off as a storyline in my head is now on paper. I have this idea to create a mini-story/universe: how the reader got hired, when she first met Mike, her first case with Harvey, her first date with Harvey, etc. I guess I just want to see if people are interested. It's been a while since I had written anything that wasn't an academic paper and my writing skills have changed drastically. This is one of the first the fics of the universe I am building in my head that I have written so I decided to publish this. I hope yall enjoy it, please give feedback.

Warnings: Talks about not eating (due to stress), food mention, panic attack details, fainting, Harvey being an ass, cursing I think? if I am missing anything please let me know

Word count: 5.6k

Taglist: @happy74827 @princessvader15 @hashcakes @yiiiikesmish @malfoys-demigod

I tagged those who commented under my last post I hope that's okay and if you aren't interested in being tagged let me know and I will remove you sorry.

As you entered the corridors of Pearson Hardman, they were alive with the usual buzz of legal minds at work, but this time, a distinct tension hung in the air. You didn't even get a few steps into the associates area before hearing the straining voice of Louis Litt yelling that there was an emergency meeting.

You scrambled behind, stuffing your mouth with the banana nut muffin you thought you would eat peacefully at your desk this morning. You knew what this meeting was about, everyone knew. The case against Amir Jackson, the firm's ex-lawyer turned adversary, had everyone on edge.

The briefing room was filled with hushed whispers as everyone settled in, and even the confident strides of Harvey Specter and Louis Litt carried a subtle weight.

Harvey, impeccably dressed as always, stood at the head of the conference table, his piercing gaze flickering between Jessica Pearson and the gathered associates, and maybe it was your imagination but it might have lingered a little longer on you. Snapped out of your imagination when he spoke, "Listen up, people. This case is different. Amir Jackson knows us inside out, and he won't hesitate to use that knowledge against us. He's playing dirty, and we need to be ready for anything."

You never got to meet Amir Jackson, but oh the stories. The firm had no problem doing what they needed to do to be successful, but there was a line they never dared cross and Amir crossed it.

Jessica leaned forward, her hands planted firmly on the table. "Amir's betrayal when he left this firm was bad enough. Now, he's trying to take a piece of us with him. We can't let that happen."

Louis chimed in. "I've seen my fair share of dirty plays, but this guy is in a league of his own. We need to be one step ahead, or he'll bury us."

The gravity of the situation was sinking in, associates exchanged knowing glances. They understood the magnitude of the challenge ahead. Amir Jackson wasn't just a legal opponent; he was a former comrade who knew their strengths and weaknesses intimately. The fact that there was a meeting needing to be held just told how much this case was about to get tricky. Usually the inner circle dealt with these cases: Harvey, Louis, Jessica, Mike and maybe sometimes Rachel.

Your role as the go-to person for legal paperwork kept you in the thick of it. While Harvey Specter had his famed right-hand man in Mike Ross, he knew he could rely on you for drafting contracts with a precision that went beyond mere proficiency.

You might not have been Harvey's drinking buddy or his confidant like Mike, but there was a unique dynamic between you both. It was a quiet understanding that transcended the formalities of the workplace. You knew you would never be his protege, and that was perfectly fine with you. What you brought to the table was a specialized skill set that complemented Harvey's legal prowess, if you do say so yourself.

His voice thundered through the briefing room as he adjusted his cuffs, “I am building a specific legal team to help bring down Amir Jackson”.

Of coure Harvey was going to pick Mike Ross, Mike was worth more than 8 associates. How much more help does he need? Who else could he need? Harvey's eyes scanned the room filled with associates. His gaze settled on you, and he flashed a sly grin. "You, Y/N. You're on my team for this one.”

Harvey and you had worked together various times. He always knew he could count on you for legal paperwork. As much as he depended on Mike Ross, there was one thing you were that Mike wasn’t and that was that you had a talent when it came to drafting contracts. But I believe that there was some respect, one might even say in a blossoming friendship between you and him. You got a spark of it when he teasingly picked you out of the bunch of associates to be part of his team for his takedown of Amir Jackson.

“You know, Y/N, if paperwork were an Olympic sport, you'd be a gold medalist," Harvey remarked with a wry grin, “And I expect you to bring the gold home for Pearson Hardman”

“I won’t let you down Sir”, you gave a weak smile as all eyes were on you.

You hated the attention, yet you couldn’t help the small heat you felt on our cheeks as Harvey stared at you. Drawn to playing with the bracelet you wore as you slightly cringed at yourself for the words that came out of your mouth. Sir? Really. Stupid, you thought.

Harvey moved past it and called out the name of 2 more associates and asked if anyone else wanted in on the case had to draw up a proposal. He only wanted the best of the best and trust him, he would get the best of the best.

You made your way to Harvey’s office as the meeting was dismissed. And you reminisce on the first time Harvey complimented on your legal work.

“ Are you a sorcerer”, Harvey asked as he made his way to your cubicle. It was late one night and you were stuck on an email. You had this need to overachieve and be perfect and it showed in everything you did. But if you were being honest it was exhausting.

You glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Well, Harvey, someone has to make sure the i's are dotted and the t's are crossed. Can't let you walk into a negotiation with a misplaced comma, now can we?"

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Maybe it's the lack of sleep or the fact that you had 4 coffees. But the confidence was there and to your surprise, Harvey chuckled.

You swear you saw a twinkle in his eye as he responded, "You're practically the Mozart of legal documents. I half expect those contracts to start singing a symphony when I open them."

You smirked, setting aside the email you were currently writing, swiveling your chair to face him, "If you want a soundtrack to your legal victories, Harvey, I'm sure I can find a way to make that happen."

He tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Now that's the kind of innovation I like to see. Who needs background music at a negotiation? Just cue in Y/N legal masterpiece."

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the idea. "I'll be sure to add it to the list of services I provide, Harvey. Background music, legal counsel, and a dash of flair."

Harvey straightened up, his signature confidence in full force. "Flair is your middle name, isn't it? The 'Legal Maestro with a Touch of Flair.' Has a nice ring to it."

You rolled your eyes, feigning exasperation. "I'll have to update my business cards. But let's be honest, Harvey, you appreciate the flair. It's what sets my paperwork apart from the rest."

Harvey smirked, leaning in. "You're not wrong. But don't let it get to your head. I can't have you drafting contracts with a crown on, declaring yourself the Queen of Legal Documents." He turned to leave right after and you could have sworn you were asleep and that any moment now you would wake up from this dream.

You yelled out, “Don't worry, Harvey. I'll keep the royal proclamations to a minimum. Wouldn't want to overshadow your crown as the King of Closing Deals." And you could have sworn he let out a hearty laugh from down the hall.

“Y/N, nice of you to join us”, Harvey said. Jessica and Mike were already in the room as the other associates were already screaming. They had been given their assignments and were off to work.

“What can I do”, you spoke above a whisper, feeling small as the eyes were all on you. Jessica knew your history, she knew you struggled to be the shark of a lawyer you could be. But she hired you anyway, your interview with her wasn't the best. But she saw something in you, something that reminded her of herself when she was starting off. She was gonna build and mold you to a shark. But for now she let you be. A shark wasn’t born overnight.

“ I need one of your flawless contracts for Amir. I need no loopholes. Nothing he can use against us”, Harvey spoke in a harsher tone then he meant.

All you could do was nod your head and swiftly leave the room to do the research needed. Leaving Mike, Harvey and Jessica to chatter. As you walked down the corridor you saw Louis making his way to Harvey’s office with Rachel in tow. All hands on deck indeed, you thought to yourself.

The first night working on that draft through the dim glow of the late-night office lights illuminated your determined face. The rhythmic tapping of the keyboard was accompanied by the occasional crunch of Hot Cheetos.

Proud of your work, you compiled the neatly typed pages and confidently walked over to Harvey Specter's desk. As you placed the document in the designated spot, you felt relief wash over you. It’s currently 2:00 am, no one is here but you but you really wanted to prove your worth.

With only 5 hours asleep, the next day, you walked into the office, a little pep in your step. You made yourself some crappy coffee. And were about to head into the bullpen.

Harvey, engrossed in his own work the minute he stepped into the office, took a moment to glance at the papers. His stern expression, usually unreadable, twisted into a scowl as he noticed a small Hot Cheeto stain near the corner of the document. And called you down to his office. Your pep was gone once you heard his tone of voice as he called your name. Turning on your heel you headed towards his office. Donna was expecting you and let you by. One foot through the door is as far as you got before Harvey had something to say.

"Do you see this?" Harvey's voice was sharp pointing at the small stain.

Panicking slightly, you stammered, "I'm sorry, Harvey. I must have missed that." It was an easy fix, just print another copy, you thought to yourself making a mental note.

Harvey's gaze shifted from the stain to the content of the contract. He began circling errors with a red pen, his frustration apparent. "And these mistakes? This is what you place on my desk and yet it isn't up to my expectations”.

As he pointed out the errors, your pride in their work crumbled. The Hot Cheeto stain seemed to just make Harvey go on a power trip.. Each correction felt like a blow,"I expect better from you," Harvey remarked, his tone cold and unforgiving.

You nodded, unable to muster a response. Maybe the growing friendship you thought of was truly in your head. As Harvey returned to his own work, you retreated to their desk, determined to rectify the mistakes.

You admit your first draft wasn't the best. And you shouldn't have eaten near the paperwork. You were currently starving as you finished up the last paragraph. It’s been 6 hours since Harvey scolded you but this draft was perfect. And after you turned it in you were going to treat yourself to a nice dinner. Probably the Mexican place down the road. You were zoned in for the past 6 hours. This was the only case you were working on and it needs all your attention. But your attention was quickly zoned into the associate that was stumbling through the door.

Mike comes waltzing in, barely having any balance. You and Mike haven't really talked much. But he didn't look well.

“ Hey, Mike. You okay?" you asked, concerned in your voice.

Mike attempted a nonchalant smile, but the wavering balance gave away his inebriated state. "Yeah, just...you know, a little tired."

Observing Mike closely, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. "Are you sure about that?"

Mike hesitated before confessing, "Okay, fine. Maybe a bit more than tired. Harvey and I went to meet someone about the Amir Jackson case, and things got a bit...out of hand with the drinks"

Your concern shifted to a mix of annoyance and frustration. While you had been tirelessly working on the second version of the contract, Harvey and Mike were out getting drunk. "Seriously, Mike? We have a case to win, and you two are out here partying?"

Mike scratched his head, a sheepish grin on his face. "We thought it was a good idea at the time. Maybe it was a bit impulsive."

Determined to express their frustration, you headed towards Harvey's office, the door slightly opened,. Knocking lightly, you entered and handed Harvey the second draft of the contract. The faster you gave it to him the faster you could leave.

"Here's the updated version, Harvey," you said, trying to mask your annoyance. After all, he is still the boss.

You sped walked out of there and back to your cubicle. Mike was there still, with his head on his desk.

“Go ask Donna for some pain killers, you still have a long night ahead of you”, you told him.

Mike just nodded and stumbled as he stood up to go to Donna. You were packing your bags, ready to call it an early night. When your computer dinged. You sat down to respond to an email quickly when you felt the tension of the bullpen change drastically.

“What is this, Y/N ?" Harvey's tone was sharp, his blue eyes piercing into mine.

You frowned, confused by the unexpected hostility. "It's the contract you asked for, Harvey. I double-checked everything, and it's all in order."

He scoffed, he took out a red marker from his pocket and started circling stuff with his red marker again, "This is subpar, even for an associate. I don't have time for amateur hour."

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Harvey, I don't understand. I followed the protocol, and the contract is flawless. What's the issue?"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, cutting tone. "Flawless? If this is your definition of flawless, we're in trouble. I need precision, not this half-baked attempt at legal work."

The comments were like a punch to the gut. Harvey's relentless standards were known, but this seemed different. You couldn't fathom what had triggered such a harsh reaction. Was he too tipsy? Doubt crept into your mind, questioning your abilities despite knowing that the document was, by all standards, impeccable.

As you scrambled to gather my thoughts, Harvey continued. "If you can't handle the basics, I don't know why I bother keeping you around. Maybe it's time for a reality check, Y/N."

His words hung in the air, a heavy weight on my shoulders. The bullpen fell silent, and your colleagues exchanged uneasy glances. You knew how people judged women for being emotional in the workplace but you could not help the tears welling in your eyes.

Harvey turned on his heel and walked away without a second glance, leaving you with a sinking feeling of inadequacy. You stared at the perfectly crafted document, now dismissed and devalued by Harvey's cutting words. It was a moment of doubt, a crack in the confidence you had built in your work. Goodbye nice dinner, you thought to yourself as we sat at your cubicle, back to square one.

It's been about a week since Harvey yelled at you. You couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat. Doubt was eating you. You were always proud of your writing skills, that was what you were known for. This is what got you hired at Pearson Hardman. What if you weren't good enough for this job anymore? Did you speak? Your mind was racing and you were lucky enough to talk yourself down. You were currently working on your fifth version of this contract. Every draft before that had him taking out his red marker. A part of you could have sworn he was just circling things at random, but who are you to question the great Harvey Specter. It was 2:00 pm and you thought maybe you deserve a snack so you headed to the breakroom. Who do you happen to run into Mike Ross? He had no faults but just happened to be the unwitting recipient of your frustration.

You stormed up to Mike barely containing the anger that had been building for weeks. "Mike, we need to talk," I blurted out, not bothering to hide the frustration in my voice.

Mike looked up from his sandwich, surprised by the intensity of my tone. "Sure, Y/N, what's going on?"

You took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "It's just... Do you ever feel like you're stuck in someone's shadow? Like no matter how hard you work, you're always one step behind?"

Mike furrowed his brow, sensing the gravity of my emotions. "What happened? Is it Harvey?"

You nodded, my frustration bubbling over. "It's always Harvey. He treats you like a partner, his drinking buddy, his go-to guy for everything. Meanwhile, I'm drowning in his shadow, drowning in rewrites and unreasonable expectations."

Mike leaned back, a sympathetic expression on his face. "I get it. Harvey has his moments. But you're great at what you do. Maybe he just doesn't see it."

"That's the problem, Mike. He doesn't see it. I'm just the person who writes and rewrites, constantly trying to meet his impossible standards. Did you know I can't even eat at my desk because once there was a Hot Cheeto stain on one of the drafts, and he lost it?"

Mike's eyes widened, realizing the extent of my frustration. "That's harsh, Y/N. Look, I know I have a different dynamic with Harvey, but it doesn't mean he values you any less. Maybe you should talk to him about how you're feeling."

"It's not that easy, Mike. I'm tired of being the one in the background. I can't handle the pressure anymore." you confessed, your voice laced with a mix of anger and vulnerability.

Mike sighed, understanding the weight of your words. "I can't fix everything, but I can listen. And I am truly sorry"

“NO, NO, no I am sorry Mike, I am not mad at you or at Harvey. I guess I am mad at myself. I am just going back to work on my fifth version of this document”, you said as you felt the hunger take over. But you pushed through. You had to push through.

As you walked out of the break room, Mike became an unexpected ally. He went to his binder Harvey put together and looked for the fourth version of the contract knowing Harvey had put it all in the file to look over. The document was perfect, no one could have done it better.

Mike took in your look when you came bargaining in here. You looked awful. And what it was barely a week working on the case. Mike had heard about Harvey yelling in the bullpen but it had caused you so much disarray that Mike knew Harvey took it too far. He knew you and he didn't talk as much but Rachel adored you and he had to do the right thing and get Harvey to apologize.

Donna saw Mike striding towards Harvey’s office and knew what was coming. Donna knew Harvey was wound tight. That this case was getting the best of him and taking it out on the lovely Y/N but lord forbid she say anything. The last time she tried she nearly got her head chewed off too and Harvey right now needs to know he isn't alone in this case.

"Harvey, you're being too hard on Y/N. The contract she wrote was perfect, and every draft since then has only improved upon perfection. You can't keep circling random stuff just to make her rewrite it," Mike asserted, his tone firm as he entered Harvey’s office. The fourth version of your contract in his hand.

Harvey shot him a sharp glance. "I demand the best, and if she can't deliver, then maybe she's not cut out for this."

Mike shook his head. "It's not about delivering, Harvey. It's about you being stressed out over the case and taking it out on her. She's doing her best, and you need to acknowledge that."

Before Harvey could respond, Donna chimed in. "Mike's right, Harvey. I've seen the way you've been treating Y/N, and it's not fair. You've always had a soft spot for her, even if you won't admit it.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow. "A soft spot? Donna, you're reading too much into it."

Donna crossed her arms, "Harvey. I am Donna and I know everything. I also see everything. Harvey. Remember the time she was sick, and you made sure she had everything she needed? Or how you personally chose her for the team during the Jackson case? You compliment her skills and skip past everyone else you named for your team. You've got a soft spot for her, whether you admit it or not”

Mike nodded in agreement. "You can't deny it, Harvey. There's something about her that you can't ignore. Maybe it's time to acknowledge it and cut her some slack."

Harvey sighed, he didn't appreciate Mike and Donna ganging up on him but the fact that they were meant they maybe had a point, "Fine. Maybe I've been too hard on her. But she needs to know that mediocrity isn't acceptable."

Donna shook her head. "Harvey, there's a difference between pushing for excellence and being unnecessarily harsh. You owe Y/N an apology."

Reluctantly, Harvey nodded. "Alright. I'll talk to her. But this doesn't mean I'm going soft."

Donna smirked. "We wouldn't want that, Harvey."

Harvey made his way to find you. While Donna and Mike exchanged a knowing look. He made his way down to Rachels office, knowing that's where he will find you at these hours. He was taking the elevator and he thought about the last time both of you were in the elevator. It was the day the Amir Jackson case got handed for the first time. Harvey was on his way to meet with Amir for the first time in a long time to talk over the case, get under his skin.

The elevator doors closed, enclosing Harvey Specter and Y/N in a small, confined space. The tension from the Jackson case was already weighing heavily on Harvey, evident by the way he impatiently tugged at his perfectly knotted tie.

"Harvey, relax. You're going to strangle yourself with that tie if you keep pulling on it," you quipped. You realized the stress coming off him and the words just flew out of your mouth before you could think.

Harvey shot them a sidelong glance, his usual stoicism momentarily replaced by a flicker of amusement. "Maybe I'd be better off without it."

A small, unexpected laugh escaped Harvey's lips, surprising both him and Y/N. It was a rare sight to witness Harvey Specter, the embodiment of seriousness, letting his guard down even for a moment. Specifically with you.

" This isn't your first time easing the tension, I see the way you calm Rachel down when she gets in over her head. You always find a way to lighten the mood. What's your secret?" Harvey teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You shrugged, a smile forming as you too let down your guard "Maybe it's just my superpower. The ability to make even the mighty Rachel and even the mysterious Harvey Specter crack a smile."

Harvey's expression shifted back to his usual cool exterior, but a subtle warmth lingered in his eyes. "Careful, now you might start thinking you're irreplaceable."

As the elevator continued its ascent, the banter between you quieted down and Harvey and you started to go back to normal. Back to the quietness and coldness.

But before the elevator opened to the floor, Harvey sneaked in, “Well, don't let it get to your head. You're not the comedian Pearson Specter, just the document wizard.", his smile lingered a little before the face of the closer returned to its hard exterior.

If you were there longer than Rachel or she was busy running around the office she allowed you to work in her small office room. It was currently 4:00 pm but Louis had yelled at all the associates and dismissed them for the day for being useless. Only those working on the Amir case were still here, plus Donna and Rachel. Rachel was off trying to get the emails of old associates of Amir. You thought that Mike probably went off with her after your little breakdown to him. You knew Harvey was in the office and that you were typing on your keyboard like there was no tomorrow. You meticulously worked on the revised legal document, determined to prove to Harvey Specter that you could meet his standards and trying to prove yourself that you could melt your own standards. The door swung open abruptly, and you hooked up to see Harvey's stern expression.

"Y/N, we need to talk," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that another reprimand was imminent.

Your pulse quickened, and your breath caught in your throat. The anxiety that had been simmering since Harvey's earlier criticism surged to the surface. You felt a tightness in my chest, your hands trembling as you tried to compose myself.

Harvey noticed your distress, as his expression softened, and he took a step closer. "Hey, relax. I just wanted to talk about earlier. I think I may have been too harsh."

The words barely registered as your panic escalated. Your mind raced, and suddenly, you found it difficult to breathe. The walls of the office seemed to close in on you. Before you could respond, the edges of your vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness overcame you as you sat at the desk, gripping on to the edge for support.

Harvey's concern deepened as he watched you struggle. "Hey hey hey, whoa, take it easy. You are okay, everything is okay”

But you couldn't catch your breath, and panic tightened its grip. Your hands shook uncontrollably, and you gasped for air. In the midst of the chaos, Harvey acted swiftly. He made his way around the desk kneeling down to be at eye level with you.

"Deep breaths, Y/N. In and out," Harvey instructed, his voice a soothing anchor in the storm of panic.

As you continued to struggle, Harvey, without hesitation, he took your hand and placed it over his heart. "Feel my heartbeat? Match your breaths to it. In, and out”

His heartbeat served as a rhythmic guide, and slowly, your breaths synchronized with its steady cadence. The panic began to subside, replaced by a sense of calm that washed over you. As the storm within you quieted, exhaustion set in, and the world around you blurred into darkness.

Harvey caught you as you passed out. Guilt swept over him because he knew he was the cause of this. He can’t remember the last time he saw you smile, the last time you ate, the last time you lit up a room. You were giving your all in this case and by doing so you were giving away parts of yourself too. He moved you onto Rachels couch so you could lay down properly. He knew you passed out because of panic and the lack of eating, he noticed these things about you. He noticed a lot about you actually, damn it Donna, he thought.

He took his pocket square and wet it with your water bottle. He adjusted himself to the couch, moving so that your head was on his lap as he placed the cool rag on your forehead.

The aftermath of the panic attack had left both of you in a vulnerable state. Yet Harvey couldn't deny the flutter in his chest as he gazed down at you. Was it concern for your well-being, or was it the proximity that had him on edge? He shook off the thought, focusing on steadying his own heartbeat.

In the midst of the stillness, the door creaked open, and right on cue Mike Ross cautiously entered. He took in the scene, the concern etched across his face.

"What happened?" Mike asked, his eyes shifting between Harvey and your unconscious state, ready to fight Harvey if he did you any physical harm.

Harvey, in his usual commanding tone, snapped, "Go to the Mexican restaurant two blocks down and get two number 5's."

Mike, taken aback, stammered, "But—"

"Just do it," Harvey insisted, his gaze never leaving you.

Mike quickly exited, leaving Harvey alone with his unconscious colleague. He had so many questions but Harvey’s tone told him everything he needed to know. Minutes later, the door swung open again, revealing Mike with bags of Mexican takeout in hand.

"Here," Mike said, handing the bags to Harvey. "I'll take off early for the night. Rachel and I were thinking about grabbing dinner. You got this, right?" A little weary to leave you, feeling like he should tell Rachel, Donna or even Jessica. But the look in Harvey’s eye told him he had nothing to worry about.

Harvey nodded, a silent acknowledgment of Mike's understanding. As Mike left, Harvey couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and guilt. He knew you hadn't been eating well, and by the looks of your under eye bags you also hadn't been sleeping and the panic attack had been triggered by the stress of the Jackson case, a burden he bore on both their shoulders.

As you began to stir, Harvey glanced down at the bags of Mexican food. The aroma filled the room, and he hoped the gesture would, in some small way, make up for the turmoil he inadvertently caused.

"You're awake," Harvey remarked as you slowly opened their eyes.

You ignored everything around you as you slowly sat up with the help of Harvey. A blush rushing on your face realizing how close you were to Harvey. But all that faded when you saw the food, "How did you know this is my favorite?"

“That’s the first thing you ask?’Harvey raised an eyebrow.

Your body slowly turned to face him.The headache and body sores had you wincing in pain. Harvey’s eyes held much guilt and sadness in them even as he tried to suppress them and act strong in front of you. This was about you and not about what he was feeling.

“I am a simple girl. I get easily distracted by food”, you let out a small laugh even though you are exhausted, “Now answer my question”

Harvey hesitated, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue, he wanted to say that it's because he knew you. But Instead of admitting the depth of his knowledge about you, he chose a simpler response. "Who doesn't love Mexican food?"

You hummed as he moved the desk closer to you so you wouldn't have to get up from the couch. The food was spread out and he took a seat next to you. A silence took over the room as you both began to eat. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension, the events of the panic attack still lingering in the air.

Harvey cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Look, Y/N, I wanted to apologize for the unnecessary pressure I put on you. It was out of line, and I shouldn't have let it escalate to the point of causing a panic attack."

You glanced up from your plate, a mixture of exhaustion and forgiveness in your eyes. "Harvey, it's not entirely your fault. The case is stressful, and I should have handled it better."

Harvey's expression softened at your words. "That doesn't excuse my behavior. I should have been more considerate. I don't want you to feel like you have to carry the weight of the case alone."

You sighed, pushing the food around on their plate. "Harvey, I forgive you, but on one condition."

Harvey raised an eyebrow, silently urging you to continue.

" I can't keep being treated like an outsider, I know I only got hired because of my writing skills but I want to do more, be more. I want to be more than just the person who drafts contracts. I know I can be a kick ass lawyer if given the chance."

Harvey took a moment to absorb your words. The realization of the impact of his actions sank in, and he nodded. "You're right”

“Did those words really just come out of your mouth”, your eye grew wide as a smile danced on your lips’’

“Just, can you just shush for a moment”, he said as he placed his fork down.

“ Jessca told me when you were hired that you were born to be a shark. I guess I got so caught up in your skills that I haven't really even given you the chance to dominate the courtroom. I shouldn't have overlooked that."

You saw something in his eyes you had never seen before. Was it hope?

You both continued to eat in subdued silence, the tension in the room shifted. The unspoken feelings between both of you simmered beneath the surface. This was forever changing the dynamic of your professional relationship.

So where do you all go after this? The case of Amir Jackson isn't over, there is much more left for you both to do. This isn't the end. This is only the beginning, leaving both Harvey and you to navigate whatever comes next.

#harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x you #harvey specter #suits #suits usa #suits tv #mike ross #donna paulsen #Pearson Hardman

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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago

Text

During season 3, there’s a deleted scene (because I said so) of Max and El’s first spin-the-bottle spy attempt.

The bottle slows to a stop right on Steve's name, and the two girls giggle as El puts the blindfold on.

She finds him in his Scoops Ahoy outfits, and El giggles harder as she tells Max, "He's kissing some girl."

Max gasps, "Who is it?"

El starts walking closer, trying to see who it is, but their hair is covering their face. "Some girl with curly hair."

"Nancy?" Max whispers conspiratorily.

El shakes her head. "Her hair is short. This girl's hair is longer." She starts to turn red, feeling like she's been intruding for too long. She starts to reach up for her blindfold when the person pulls back and says, “Ahoy, Captain.”

Just as Steve groans in irritation, El yanks the blindfold off and freezes. Max shakes her and asks, “What? What happened?”

El pauses, thinking back to the time Mike had to explain why he was so angry when Troy called Will a fairy. She didn’t understand why people were upset about a boy loving another boy, but she understood that it wasn’t something people talked about. Just like she wasn’t allowed to use her powers, Will wasn’t allowed to openly like boys.

So, she just lets out a deep breath and reasons with herself that it isn’t a lie when she says, “They started using tongue.”

While Max shrieks with laughter, El smiles at her, trying not to think of the boy Steve was with.

-:-:-:-:-:-

(An added extra part that is WAY longer than intended. Oops. Coming back after editing to add JSKEHDISBEHSH)

The next year, the information seems to come in handy when Dustin urges El to see if his friend Eddie is still somehow alive in the upside down.

The others are all there, trying to describe what he looks like when Nancy and Jonathan volunteer to run to the school and grab his missing poster for a photo. But the descriptions paint a clear picture in El’s head of someone she’s seen before. Briefly. But she remembers.

Curly hair. Wears lots of rings. Big brown doe eyes and full lips - Steve’s very helpful description.

And El can’t help but turn to Steve and whisper, “Ahoy, Captain?

Steve’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush red. His mouth opens and closes asking, “How-? Why-? When-?”

“Is that him?” El asks firmly.

Steve only nods. Brushing off everyone who asks What does she mean? By telling them to be quiet while El puts on her blindfold.

She finds herself somewhere dark and cold, feeling the familiarity of the place as she seeks out Eddie. She walks around, calling out his name, getting more and more desperate as time goes by.

But she suddenly feels something watching her and quickly turns around, finding Eddie as pale as a ghost staring at her from the ground. She bends down and puts a hand on his face. “We’re coming for you, okay? We’re coming.”

Eddie tilts his head and asks, “Who?”

“Steve,” El automatically says, hoping it’s the right person to name.

The name seems to give Eddie a small bit of hope.

“And Dustin,” El adds. “Dustin’s coming for you.”

Eddie gives her a weak smile and mumbles, “I knew he’d miss me.”

El smiles at the joke. She hears the other people in the room begin to ask if he’s alive, to remind him that someone named Wayne is coming.

El squeezes his cold cheek, hoping some of her warmth will bleed through the connection. “Just hang on a little longer, okay? They say Wayne’s coming too.”

Eddie weakly smiles again and murmurs, “Wayne.” His eyes get heavy, and El shakes him. “Mmm awake,” Eddie slurs. El hears footsteps behind her and turns, not seeing anything, but as she turns back she finds Eddie disappearing.

She reaches out yelling, “No! No! Hold on!”

When he’s completely gone she yanks the blindfold off, weeping as someone pulls her into their chest. She doesn’t hear any of the questions around her as she says, “Run to him. Run!”

But finally, Mike gets through to her and asks, “Did you see Steve there?”

El wipes her eyes and asks, “What?”

“Did you see Steve there?” Mike repeats.

El glances around, noticing that Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Robin are no longer there. “Where-“

“They went to him as soon as you said we’re coming for you. Did you see them there?” Will explains quickly.

El shakes her head. “There were footsteps but… Eddie vanished before I saw anyone.”

Mike looks far off and puts his head in his hands.

They’re too late.

A tense silence passes.

“This is a code green! I repeat this is a code green!” Dustin’s staticky voice rings through the walkie.

The three kids race toward it, Mike grabs it first asking, “He’s okay?”

“He’s alive,” Dustin says, sounding choked up. “He’s alive.”

El sighs in relief and rushes off to the door.

“Where are you going?” Will asks.

“The hospital, come on.”

The trip there is fast, but no one lets them see Eddie yet as he’s still in critical condition. But they all opt to wait as long as they need to get any updates.

El sees Steve eye her for a while before she moves to sit in the chair next to him. She waits for him to talk first.

“So… how did you… know?” Steve asks.

El flushes red and ducks her head. “Max and I were playing this game where we would spin a bottle and-”

“Okay, I know where this is going. Jesus, kid,” Steve mutters.

El glares at him. “We would spin a bottle and see who it landed on to spy on them.”

“Oh,” Steve says, pausing before he suddenly realizes, “You spied on me?”

“Yes,” El replies because friends don’t lie.

Steve flushes red and asks, “So, how much of me and Eddie did you see?”

El leans in to whisper, “You were kissing a lot.”

“Christ,” Steve says, before burying his head in his hands. He slowly looks up at her and asks, “Did you… tell anyone?”

“No.”

Steve sighs and leans back in his chair, staring off.

El can’t help but press on. “Did you love him?”

Steve stops breathing for a second as he considers the question. He turns to her slowly and says, “I did.”

“Did?”

Steve runs a hand over his face. “It’s complicated.”

El pauses and says, “Well, it looked like he really loved you too.” When Steve gives her a look, she adds, “And he looked happy when I said you were coming for him.”

A conflicted look crosses over Steve’s face. “Did he really?”

El nods. “Friends don’t lie.”

Steve smiles and huffs a small laugh. “That’s right.” He hesitates before slinging an arm around El’s shoulder and pulling her into his side as much as he can with the arm of chair being between them. He plants a kiss to her head and whispers, “I’ll give you a lecture later about the spying thing. But for now… thank you.”

El leans into the hug, staying until an older man walks into the room.

“Wayne!” Dustin yells and runs to wrap his arms around him.

El watches as Steve slowly stands up and offers his hand to Wayne when Dustin pulls away. Wayne looks at Steve for a moment before pulling him into a hug.

El wants to ask and know the whole story behind Steve and Eddie and this Wayne person. But she thinks it’s time to look away as Steve breaks down in Wayne’s arms and the older man’s bottom lip quivers. “I know, son. I know.”

-:-:-:-:-:-

They wait for a long time before there’s finally news.

They all collectively hold their breath as the doctor walks into the room. He look over at them all before announcing, “He’s stable.”

A wave of relief floods through the room, but El thinks there’s an added tension when they’re informed that he isn’t allowed visitors yet.

But Wayne follows the doctor out the door and has a very stern word with him before he’s reluctantly allowed to disappear down the hall.

A few minutes later, he comes back to the room and asks, “El?”

El sits up straighter. “Yes?”

“He’s asking for you.”

El glances at all her friends before she stands up and follows (who Dustin had told her is) Eddie’s uncle. As she gets to the room, she looks at all the tubes connected to Eddie’s body, and wonders how he even asked for her.

But as she gets closer to the bed, she sees Eddie’s eyes crack slightly open.

“Lean down so he can whisper to you,” Wayne advises.

El leans closer and hears Eddie says, “I know… how… to get… to Max.”

El leans back and grabs Eddie’s hand. “Show me.”

With that, she’s taken into a vision of horrors, of Eddie dying and coming back. His heart restarted by Vecna for some unknown reason. A vision of all the bodies tied to the tree but Max’s spot is empty. But there’s something there. Something that’s trapped in the empty vines. But just as she sees it, a clock strikes in the distance, and it all begins to disappear.

She gasps as she steps away from Eddie, catching her breath as Wayne asks what the hell is happening.

But she can only run out of the room, heading toward Max’s room knowing where she needs to go to find her and bring her back.

#steddie #okay well this was supposed to be strictly steddie #then it just got away from me #I blacked out for like thirty minutes #and now you have this #I don’t know #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #el #eleven

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sameschmidtdiffname · 11 months ago

Text

Princess

Mike Schmidt x Female! Reader

Summary: You detest having a roommate. You enjoy cheap rent. One of these things is going to have to change at some point, and with the week you're having? There's only so long before people reach a breaking point.

Tags: Smut. Filthy smut. (This is the first smut I've published too, so enjoy that.) Enemies to lovers, mocking, Mike is so OoC at some parts you could really shove anyone into this role, I'm going to be so extremely for real. (I'm honestly just feral for the actor. Sorry.) Hate fucking, dirty talk, cursing, cucking(??), listening in, masturbating, dumbification, slight dacrophillia(??), Abby's out of the equation for this scenario. Imagine like, early 20s Mike, he's not caretaker yet. Praising, pet names (good girl, princess, whore, pretty girl), no use of Y/N. Dom! Mike, teasing Reader, Brat (??) Reader, phone sex, walking in on masturbation, walking in on sex, possessive! Mike, hickies/bite marks, finger sucking, hair pulling, slut shaming, probably missing some things imma be honest. Just assume this is depraved.

Notes: I'd like to apologize to God and Josh Hutcherson. This is filth and I recognize my eternal soul is indeed damned. Anyways, bone apple teet.

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I didn't mind Mike when I met him, you know.

He's quiet. Shy. Keeps to himself. Those traits should make for a good roommate. If he'd kept his mess confined to his room, maybe the music that he blares just a little too loudly wouldn't be so headache inducing.

My fingers rap on the thin door, demanding his attention which is never given to me unless I make a production out of it. We both know that.

"Michael," I say.

Silence.

"Mike."

Nothing.

I open the door and there he is, peacefully asleep on his bed as the bass shakes the water in his glass. I sigh and click off the stereo, then turn to leave. It's incredible how quickly I hear him shift on the bed, scrambling to stand.

"The fuck?" He croaks, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Your music was blaring. I already heard it from Mrs. Jones upstairs about you waking her kid up, I'm not dealing with that again," I say raising my hands up in the air defensively.

"I don't sleep well," he says.

"Neither does the baby," I say.

Mike rolls his eyes, turning the music back on and turning his back to me.

"Michael-"

"Don't call me that," he interrupts.

It's my turn to roll my eyes. "Schmidt, can you at least turn it down? I'm asking nicely," I say. He stands there for a moment and though I can't see his face, I know he's thinking.

Finally, with a sigh he says "Fine, princess."

"Don't call me that," I say. I hear a small huff of laughter from him and he turns to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hit a nerve?" He asks with false sympathy.

"It's a simple request," I say. My eyes narrow at him in irritation.

"Which one?"

"Both."

We stand there for a moment, both of us sizing the other up, taking each other in.

"Fine."

With the agreement having been made, I turn to leave, shutting the door behind me.

Year long lease. Joy.

-Tuesday-

"Hurry up!" Yells Mike, pounding on the bathroom door.

"I'm fucken hurrying!" I yell back, my hands working as fast as they can to wash off my body. Late alarm, fever dreams causing me to wake in a pool of stinking sweat, and one bathroom make for a horrendous cocktail of repeated 'fuck you's through the cheap door.

"I'm gonna be late!" Mike yells.

"So am I, I'm sorry!"

There's a moment of long silence and I think maybe Mike has finally found a spot of pity, realizing that maybe we aren't enemies but simply humans who unfortunately have to coexist in this world together. Then the water turns freezing, and I realize I hate him.

"Michael!" I practically scream. Traces of soap still reside on my body, but the cold and my alarm both force me out. Angered and not thinking clearly, I wrap the towel around my dripping waist and swing the door open.

"Are you fucking happy?" I sneer, face inches from his.

His expression is initially satisfied, but as his eyes flicker downwards he and I both realize my mistake. His eyes widen, lingering for a moment on my bare chest as he processed what he was seeing, then returning to meet my glare.

"What?" I ask sharply. "You've never seen a pair before?"

He stammers. "I-I have."

"Don't act like it," I say. "Take a fucken photo, be the only pair you'll probably ever see in your life, dicksmack."

As though he remembers himself, his eyes narrow. "Move, princess."

I slam past him, walking quickly towards my room and slamming the door behind me.

"Don't wake the baby!" Mike mocks down the hall.

Oh, motherfucker. It is on.

-Wednesday-

It's hard to break a lease. It's harder when nothing as cheap exists in the area. This is a problem for both Mike and I. I know it's true for him because apparently even his bills are too troublesome to keep on the floor of his room. But despite his mess, it's him that comes barreling down the hall, bursting into my room with no warning.

"Jesus, Michael!" I start, spinning around in my chair. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"Have you ever heard of washing a dish?" He sneers. "It's not hard. My baby sister could do it."

"Oh, is she available? I'd love to see how she'd handle your laundry situation," I retort.

"Why is it impossible for you to actually wash something? You'll put water in it, let it soak. I respect that, but then you never come back to it. Do you enjoy flies? I think you enjoy flies," he says with hate dripping off of his words. I roll my eyes, but he's not entirely wrong either.

"Fine," I mutter. "I'll do the dishes. Sorry."

"See? Look at how hard that was, princess." He begins to turn away.

"Will you quit fucking calling me that?" I snap.

"I'm following our bargin. You're the one who slips first, princess," he says while laughing, raising his hands in defense.

A long moment passes, neither of us willing to back down.

"Do the dishes yourself," I say finally, turning back to the computer.

"Not my mess," he says.

"Too bad. I'm too delicate," I say with a faux breathiness to my voice. The door slams behind him, which has me instantly rising from my chair to race after him.

"Don't slam my door!" I say.

"You did it the other day!" He says, spinning around to face me and almost slipping on one of his shirts littering the hall. I can't help but smile at that.

"Problems?" I ask.

"Yeah, they exist in whatever demon spawned you," he hisses. His eyes catch on something though, narrowing as he leans slightly closer. "The fuck is on your neck?" He asks.

"The fuck you mean 'the fuck is on my neck?'" I ask.

"I mean you've got something on your neck," he says.

"No I don't," I say. "Move." I shove past him to enter the bathroom beside us, flicking on the light and feeling my irritation rise as he reaches to do the same thing simultaneously.

"See?" He says, pointing at a small, dark mark on my neck.

Fuck.

"I don't fucken know what that is," I lie, covering it with my hand.

"You liar, that's a hickey!" He says still pointing at it.

"Is not!"

"Is too. What, are you fucking some high-schooler?" He scoffs.

"Adults leave hickies too, Mike. It can be enjoyable. You'd know this if someone ever wanted to fuck you," I spit back.

"Who on earth would enjoy having sex with you?" He asks. "The only loads you leave attract flies I don't want to have to deal with come summer."

My jaw drops in shock.

"And the only loads you leave smell like menthols and depression!" I retort.

Staring. Always staring with this guy. Jaws clentched, eyes narrowed.

"Just don't bring this guy around here," he finally says. His voice is quieter but the edge is still there.

I blink. "What?"

"You heard me," he says. "I don't need to hear your shrill voice like that."

Am I imagining things or is he blushing? No, I'm definitely imagining things. It's the florescents.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I taunt. The fuck kind of response was that?

His eyes widen slightly. "No," he says a little too quickly.

"What, you get one look at my tits and now you're thinking about that degenerate shit?" I press, stepping closer.

"I don't- this-" He's blundering. I've got him now, I've found his weak spot.

Without a word, I slip out of the bathroom and return to my room, shutting the door and beginning a plan that will guarantee I won't have to worry about being the roommate that breaks lease and looks for a new apartment.

-Thursday-

"Are you close, baby?" The sweet voice on the phone asks me. The battery on my toy is flashing, showing one of us needs to finish soon. And while I like Nick, there was just something lacking in him that kept me on this irritating edge, hiding my release from me.

"I'm close," I confirm, switching hands to try and hit a new angle. The video on the computer is doing nothing to help with this at all, and I'm so bored I'm tempted to just fake it and seal the deal.

The plan was simple. Establish dominance over my roommate via fucking a guy I'd met at some party the week before. Nick was an easy target, too busy thinking with his dick to question why I was suddenly insistent on him coming over. And to guarantee his presence at the apartment, I would have to put in work. Not that I wasn't fully uninterested. He was alright, I was single. Beneficial for everyone involved.

The vibrator finally found that sweet spot, the one that made me cry out softly into the receiver as my wrist pumped with newfound vigor.

"Close," I told Nick. "Isn't as good as you though."

Nick chuckles softly. "You're sweet," he says. Then he's prattling sweet praises, whimpering into the phone breathily along with me as I finally begin to tip over the edge, moaning loudly and clearly. It's my luck that Mike should be at work at this moment.

Should be.

Wasn't.

The door opens as Mike walks in, his mind obviously focused on something else but immediately taken aback at the sight of me sprawled upon the bed, legs open, toy in hand, Nick on phone, porn on computer. Shit.

"Jesus!" Mike shouts. "It's the middle of the day!"

"Get the fuck out!" I shout back, my voice less vicious than I'd like given that I was mid-ruined orgasm. Mike covers his eyes, trying to stumble out of the door without looking, muttering a dozen apologies a second before finally reaching and slamming the door shut behind him.

Nick and I are both silent for a long while, neither of us sure what to say.

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask finally.

"...yeah." He says. And with the click of my phone, the plan is solidified.

I don't see Mike that evening until about three hours later when he finally emerges from his room with pink cheeks and clothed in a large hoodie he seems to wish would swallow him whole.

"Hey," I say to him. I chew on my cheap food slowly, flipping through my novel at the cluttered table.

"Hi," he says quietly, not really making eye contact with me. He crosses to the cabinets, taking out a glass and filling it with water. We listen to the tap for a moment before I finally say "I didn't mean for you to see that."

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. "I got that."

More silence. The tap shuts off and he leans against the sink, taking a long sip.

"So... hickey guy?" He finally asks. And I can't help the snort that escapes me.

"Nick," I say.

"And he's...?" Mike is testing the waters, that much is obvious.

"Canadian," I say.

Mike nods. Sip. Silence.

"Nick, from Canada," he says slowly.

"Yep," I say, popping the 'p.'

Mike looks at his drink in thought.

"So you're into Canadians," he finally says. I think for a moment.

"No," I say. I mark my book and close it. "Just bored."

"Just bored?" Mike asks.

"Just bored," I confirm.

Sip. Silence. Thinking.

"You... do that regularly?" He asks.

"I mean... I like sex," I say.

His cheeks redden at that, and he takes another sip as though to hide that.

"He's coming over tomorrow," I say casually. Mike's eyes dart to mine, dark and wide.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Another sip. He finishes his glass.

"Should I find plans for tomorrow?" He asks finally.

"No," I say a bit too quickly. Both of our cheeks redden at that. "I mean, we won't... shouldn't...." I don't know what I mean.

Mike stares at me thoughtfully for a moment then looks back to the glass in his hand.

"You're pretty loud, princess," he finally says quietly.

There's a new tension in the air. One that isn't brought on by hate or dirty dishes. One that I don't mind strangely.

"You could join us, if you'd like," I offer. Mike's grip on the glass tightens so suddenly I'm almost surprised it doesn't burst.

"I- I'm pretty sure I'd get in the way," he stammers. Then his eyes darken, a strange look in them. "Besides, I don't like being a whore."

This comment stings. Deeply.

"I'm not a whore," I say defensively.

"Oh?" Mike asks.

"He's the only guy I've fucked in months, so yeah," I say.

"Oh, is that why I hear you moaning late at night all the fucking time?" Mike says. "Seriously, you're fucking loud."

"And you're a fucking virgin," I snap.

"Says who?" He asks.

"Forget it," I say. I gather my things and rise from my chair. "Don't fucking talk to me."

"Fine," he scoffs. "I'll wash this dish too, princess," he calls after me.

I spin around. "You would be so much more fuckable if you were easy to swallow," I snapped, stomping my foot like a child.

Both of us stare at each other in a bit of shock at what I just said.

"Most girls swallow just fine, thank you," he retorts.

"Who's the whore now?" I say. I don't wait for him to respond, slamming the door shut behind me.

Fine. Let him hate me. That's the whole point of this anyways. Then it'll be me and someone else in this terrible fucking apartment. Maybe it'll be Nick. Anyone would be better, I tell myself.

...

...how easy is Mike to swallow?

-Friday-

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling to remember the correct name right now.

Nick is underneath me, pumping his cock in and out like no tomorrow as I grind against him. My jaw is slack, my hands buried in the blankets fabric underneath of us. I'm staring at the thin door though, the thin door that I know leaks every little noise whether there's a towel under the enormous crack or not. And the shadows of footsteps that I see make it all the easier for Nick to continue his shallow rhythm, edging me closer and closer.

"Mi-Nick," I moan loudly. It sounds endearing, thankfully. But my heart races at how close I've come to fucking things up in a few different ways. "Fuck, you're thick," I moan. It's not particularly true, but his size is fine, so what's an ego boost to help him along the way?

Nick is sweet underneath of me, moaning that I'm his, that we're each others. That's great and all, but God. There is this missing edge. And it isn't until I hear pounding on the bedroom door that I finally feel real excitement begin to flow through me.

"We need to talk," Mike's voice says firmly.

Nick looks guilty, his eyes wide and asking for silent guidance. I don't respond, simply continuing to slide up and down Nick's cock and moaning while doing so.

"Hey, princess," Mike says firmer, pounding on the door again. "Think you can stop Oh-ing Canada and come talk to me like a fucking adult?"

I don't stop, grinding harder against Nick's base. My hands find my clit, rubbing it as I respond.

"I told you you were welcome to join us," I moan. Nick looks at me like I've gone utterly insane, and maybe I have. Maybe I'm completely delusional about all of this, but I couldn't care less as I feel my dripping cunt tighten to the point even Nick doesn't care what happens so long as he comes inside of me.

"Mi-Nick," I moan. "Mi-ne, mi-ne." Come on, Schmidt. Catch the fucking hint.

All night I had been plauged with dreams about Michael fucking Schmidt. I'd noticed when we met he was attractive to me. I liked his hands, his stubble. God, his shoulders made me think things that will probably send me straight to Hell. But hate usually kept these thoughts at bay. Last night however, the dreams wouldn't stop coming. Over and over, a new fantasy of him emerged in my head. Him underneath of me as a writing mess, him begging for more, my tits in his mouth as he finished inside me. It was depraved. I wanted it.

The door bursts open just as Nick is finishing inside of me. It's the look in Mike's eyes that causes me to finish, all while keeping eye contact with him as well.

Nick is quick to flip me on my back, covering my body haphazardly with a blanket prattling excuse after excuse. Apparently we're sorry. Apparently we had gotten too wrapped up in the moment because apparently, you know how it is, right man?

But it doesn't matter. Mike isn't looking at Nick, who's pulling on his shirt above me. Mike's looking at me, watching my fingers that trail gently along my areolas, flicking lightly at my hardened nipples and clearly longing for more.

"Mike wouldn't know the first thing about pleasing a woman," I say with little thought.

"Oh?" Both of them ask me.

"I think you should leave, Nick. Mike and I are going to have a little talk, and I don't want you to see how ugly this may get," I say without breaking eye contact with Mike.

The sudden shift in the air is not subtle, so maybe that's why Nick doesn't really hesitate to listen to me.

"I'll call you later," he says as he stumbles past Mike.

"Don't bother," Mike calls after him. Mike slams the bedroom door shut, locking it before turning to me and raising an eyebrow.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Mike asks, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as his stands tall.

My hand dips to between my thighs where Nick and I's cum pools out, coating me in the thick stuff.

"Sorry," I say in a spoiled tone, smiling.

Mike's eyes scan my entire body. From the hickies coating my neck, to my breasts and even my thighs, I can see a new wave of anger washes over him. At least, it looks like anger. There's something else mixed with it too, something I desperately want to play with.

"You're not sorry for shit," he says. He's correct.

"I told you last night, I like fucking people," I say as my fingers circle my clit.

Mike's jaw tightens. "You like fucking people," he repeats.

I can see him grind his teeth. He's silent for another moment. "And do you like... him?"

I giggle. "You tell me," I say with a soft and low voice.

His eyebrows twitch. "You're still... going?" He asks with an unsure edge to his voice.

"Yes, Michael. This is what a woman looks like when she's turned on," I say in a mocking tone, batting my lashes as my fingers dip into my entrance. "Would you like to try?"

He steps closer, bending down ever so slightly to stand over me.

"Don't call me that," he says in a low growl.

"Make me," I taunt.

He blinks.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A startled yelp escapes me as Mike grabs my hips, dragging me roughly to the edge of the bed. He spreads my legs, stepping between them and slips his rough thumb inside of me with no hesitation.

"Fuck. You do like him," he groans, his other hand fiddling with his belt. I can see how hard he is underneath his jeans, his fingers clumsy but working quickly at the items covering him.

"He's oka-ay," I say quickly, my voice trailing off into a soft moan. His thumb explores the inside of my cunt, probing the wet muscle and massaging inside of me spots a man had never taken time to look for before. "Your finger's thick," I moan.

Mike chuckles, freeing himself and pumping into his hand slowly as he presses his thumb deeper inside of me.

"You told Nick he was thick too," he says. "That just your line with guys?"

It is, but this time I actually mean it. So I shake my head. "No," I say quietly.

"I don't believe you," Mike says. He slips his thumb out of me, making me clench around nothing. I open my mouth to protest only for Mike to quickly shove his thumb into my mouth, touching the back of my throat while he sinks his cock into me.

"Go on, pretty girl," he moans. "Take it like the proud whore you are."

I gag around his thumb, both from the sudden intrusion and from the taste. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't like this, if I said that his actions didn't make me even more wet and that I didn't suck his thumb greedily, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking it clean until I can only taste his rough flesh. I swear it makes his dick twitch.

His cock slides in and out of me with ease, taking his time to feel how I wrap around him.

"Fuck," he drawls. "It's been awhile."

I moan around his thumb, running my tongue along the underside and trying to rock my hips against him to tell him to speed up. Instead, he presses a hand down on my lower stomach, pinning me down as he sinks in fully. At first glance his size is average, but inside of me it's overstimulating how he fills me just a little too much.

His thumb presses further into my throat, making me gag as he tilts his head back in pleasure.

"You are just demanding. Do you know that?" He asks. I try to respond, but he simply presses his thumb against a spot that makes me gag once more.

"Nothing's good enough for you. Not even Nick. You didn't even cum until I came in here," he laughed cruelly, looking down at where we connect. His other thumb trails down to rub my clit slowly, making me writhe underneath him and clench around his still cock.

"Never shutting up. Till now. I like it when you're quiet, princess. Makes you easier to swallow." He presses deeper inside of me, making me whine in overstimulation.

"You're mine now," he says, slowly pulling out. "You can call Nick all you want. Call him, fuck him. But we both know he's not gonna make you cum like I will." Just his tip remains in me, barely staying in before he slams back into me so hard I scream.

"So what's the point?" Mike asks, slowly slipping out once more. "Do you like pitting men against each other like that?" He slams back into me. My eyes water, but I don't protest.

This time when he pulls back, he stays there. I wait for him, trying to he patient. But then he removes his thumb and wraps his hand around his length instead.

"What?" I ask, my voice raw.

"Say it," Mike says as he jerks himself off slowly.

"Say what?" I ask.

"I'm not gonna fuck you like you want unless you say you're mine," he says casually. His tip is bright red and leaking precum, his length coated in Nick and I's milky cum.

"Fuck you," I say. Mike just laughs.

"You're the one laying here crying over some dick," he taunts. "I just want to make sure we're on the same page here, princess."

I try to hold strong, I really do. It'd be more fun if I did. But fuck. The way he stands over me, his shoulders broad. I could never deny I liked the sight of his hands either, and seeing them tug as his pulsing cock while he stared down at me with that stupid fucking smile?

It's not fair.

"I'm yours," I say quietly.

"Hmm?" Mike asks, pumping his dick quicker now. I can see how hard his veins are, and the sounds of him fucking his own hand make me want him more.

"Yours," I repeat slightly louder.

"Use proper English," he says. His face has this stupid blissful look on it, his mouth slightly open as he pants, fucking himself and watching me as he does.

"I am yours," I hiss through gritted teeth. It doesn't even take a full second before he's buried in me once more, his hands pinning my knees to my shoulders and fucking me with enough speed I'm genuinely scared he'll hurt me. And I love it.

"I'm going to make you mine," he grins, his voice suddenly turning feral.

"I'm going to make you mine so much that you won't even be able to remember what Nick's name is, let alone what he looks like. Or what he feels like."

"Uh huh," I whine. My voice is so unusually high and ragged, my mouth slack and eyes rolling back in pleasure. I rock against his hips, trying to find my second edge. I'm babbling, whether I'm asking for mercy or more is anyone's guess.

He laughs at me, and it's a harsh and cruel laugh - not at all like the usual sarcasm and mockery he displays. Instead, his laugh comes from a place that is raw and angry and vicious, the kind of laugh a wolf makes when he's about to go for the kill.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Not quite the big, bad man that he's made you think he was, is he? How disappointing," he continues, his hips thrusting into me repeatedly.

I cry loudly with each new thrust. His movements are cruel, borderline abusive. Christ, I love it.

"Bigger," I whine. "Bigger."

He teeth nip at my throat, sinking in hard enough I'll be wearing sweaters and scarves for weeks. Makeup won't touch the color.

"Bigger?" He asks in a mocking voice. "What's bigger?"

"You're bigger," I moan. My voice is broken, and there's no way the neighbors don't hear the degeneracy occurring around them. Sorry, Mrs. Jones.

"What are you going for?" he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his voice growing more and more vicious. "Big bad Mike?" he giggles, his grip tightening on my ankles as he continues plunging into me.

A loud scream escapes me as Mike finds my g spot. He doesn't relent, focusing on the spot and abusing it while I sob and try to wiggle away, completely overstimulated from pleasure and unable to handle it.

His hands pin me against him, trapping me where I am and forcing me to take him however he wants me to.

"You want more?" he asks, taking one hand away from my ankles, grabbing and pulling my hair harshly, forcing me to stare into his eyes. His pupils are so blown out I can't even see his pretty hazel irises. They're dark and predatory, his breath hot and heavy with rage.

"Is that what you want?" he asks, pulling back and plunging into my aching cunt again.

"Yes!" It's a violent scream that escapes me, feeling myself begin to tip over the edge. His eyes sparkle, his lips in a smile that shows he knows he's won.

"And what would Nick say if he could see you like this? All mine, all mine..." he taunts.

"Huh?" I'm completely stupid, my body coming undone so suddenly around his dick with cries, screams, whimpers and everything inbetween. Nick was foreplay and I've no mental energy to remember any detail that isn't Mike's.

"Don't even know his name?" Mike laughs. "You can't even remember his name, can you?" he grins, his eyes narrow again as he tugs my hair and shoves himself in further.

"Uh uh," I pant in a high voice. My body shakes terribly, his pounding length already edging me once more as he continues abusing my spot. How on earth am I supposed to walk after this?

"Then let me help you remember his name," he says. "Say his name."

"Mike," I moan pathetically. I'm right back on that edge, crying and feeling as though I'll burst from overstimulation.

"Louder," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and mocking. "Say it louder. Say his name loud enough for him to hear you."

"Mike!" I scream it religiously as I come undone a second time, gripping him to the point I can feel how close he is too. I hear him laugh above me, his other hand now wrapping around my throat and choking me slightly.

"That's my name," he says with mocking gentleness. "Say his name or I won't finish."

"I don't remember," I sob. Jesus Christ, do I have problems? "Just want you!"

His face glows, his lips split into a wide grin of satisfaction.

"So you want me, do you, princess?"

I nod pathetically. He's throbbing, slamming into me hard enough it may draw a third climax in a row.

His laugh is cruel above me, his lips landing on top of mine in a wet, possessive kiss. His tongue fills my mouth, forcing me to take him as the sounds of him fucking me like a depraved animal makes me whine in desperation.

He pulls away, a long string of spit between us connecting our lips.

"Then I'll give you what you want, princess," he says. "But there's a price."

"Uh huh," I agree. My eyes roll back as my body twitches, barely able to focus as he thrusts into me.

"Look at me," he says patiently, tugging my hair once more. When I manage to remember how, he let's out a long 'aw,' smiling down at me with false sweetness as I stare dumbly into his eyes. I suppose I'm staring into his eyes. God, I'm stupid.

His thumb grazes my jaw, tutting as he examines my face closely.

"Your eyes are pretty...*" he says, his voice sweet and tender, almost like I've made him soft and vulnerable, but his cock pounding into me causes the beginning of a headache that won't let me forget how much we hate each other. "Your eyes are pretty, your mouth is pretty..."

I lick my lips and nod lightly.

"You are just such a pretty girl, aren't you?" He asks. I nod, my body twitching uselessly as my third climax washes over me.

"Good girl," he praises. "All fucked out over me. That's good."

Suddenly and without warning, he pulls out quickly and shoves my face down close to his cock, coming all over my face. It's thick and everywhere. In my hair, my mouth. I can't even open my eyes.

"Stay like that," Mike commands as he lays me on my back. His softening cock reenters me and pumps lazily, his purpose to make sure he's fully emptied.

"Any new thoughts?" He asks me in a strange tone, light and amused. I simply moan, relishing the moment. He chuckles and spreads my legs so he can better see what is happening between us. It isn't until I hear the chime of his camera confirming a recording that I realize what he's done.

"Mike?" I ask, barely able to think straight.

A low laugh escapes him, cruel but warm.

"I want to show your new boyfriend the real you," he says. "Make sure we're all on the same page here, right?

...Fuck me, I have problems.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Thanks for reading, pookies. See y'all in hell.

Masterlist

#yes nick is nick brady from paradise lost #i couldnt help myself #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic

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lefteagleblizzard · 4 months ago

Text

𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱? 𝔑𝔬, 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: When Mike calls you for help with Abby, a simple favor turns into a tense confrontation with his aunt, who questions your place in their lives. As she tries to drive a wedge between you and Mike with her hostile remarks, you stand up for the family you're building together, proving your unwavering support. Mike, overwhelmed by your loyalty, pulls you into a moment of intense passion.

Content Warning: This story contains themes of judgment and skepticism along with instances of homophobia, manipulation, and verbal abuse. (Nothing too serious or explicit though). Reader discretion is advised.

Tags: Part 3 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Reader being called “good boy”. Blowjob (reader receiving). Riding. If you have an idea for a part 4, please let me know <3. I love spending time in reading others opinions

Words count: 4500

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Part 1 - Part 2 -Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8- Part 9-Part 10-Part 11

The afternoon stretched lazily before you, the sunlight filtering through your dorm room window as you packed away your books. There were no more classes to attend, and for once, a rare moment of calm settled over you. Just as you were about to take a break, your phone buzzed insistently on the table. You glanced at the screen.

Mike's name flashing.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you answered.

"Hey," Mike greeted, though his voice carried the unmistakable edge of stress. "Sorry to bother you, but I really need a favor." There was a pause, and you could almost picture him on the other end, running a hand through his hair, his posture tense as he spoke. "I need someone to pick up Abby and take her to her friend's house. She's got that sleepover she's been excited about. I'd go myself, but I'm buried in stuff for the custody battle, and I can't get away."

You could hear the strain in his voice, the tightness that spoke of too many worries stacked on top of each other. It was the same tone he often used when he felt overwhelmed but didn't want to show it. Without missing a beat, you nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "Of course, Mike. I'm on it," you assured him, your voice firm and certain.

"Thanks," he said, his voice softening for a moment, and you could hear the genuine relief in that single word. "You're a lifesaver."

When you arrived at the place, the air was filled with the usual cacophony of children's laughter and the chatter of parents. The building was bright, colorful murals on the walls depicting cartoon animals and cheerful scenes of nature. As you pushed open the doors and walked in, you felt a shift in the atmosphere.

Heads turned, and a sudden hush seemed to fall over the room. The mothers gathered near the entrance exchanged glances, their conversations tapering off as their eyes followed you with a mix of curiosity and quiet judgment.

You could almost feel their gaze assessing every detail: the way your clothes hung on you, the youth in your face that contrasted sharply with the tired lines etched into theirs.

You squared your shoulders, doing your best to ignore the prickle of their stares. Dr. Lillian stood by the door, clipboard in hand.

When her gaze landed on you, her brows knit together slightly, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Can I help you?" Dr. Lillian asked, her tone professional but with a hint of wariness that suggested she was already trying to place who you were. You offered her a small, polite smile, your hands tucked nervously into your jacket’s pockets.

"I'm here to pick up Abby," you explained, feeling the eyes of the other moms still on you, like they were collectively holding their breath. "I'm, uh, Mike's boyfriend."

For a moment, Dr. Lillian said nothing, her eyes narrowing just a fraction as she studied you. It was as if she was weighing your words, trying to reconcile them with whatever expectations she might have had.

The silence stretched, every second feeling heavier than the last.

You could feel the judgment radiating from the gathered mothers, a silent chorus of disapproval that buzzed like static at the back of your mind.

They didn't say anything outright, but their whispered comments and sidelong glances spoke volumes: too young, too out of place, too unfamiliar. You could practically hear their thoughts, each one a prick against your skin.

Dr. Lillian's eyes flicked briefly to the cluster of moms, catching the murmurs that rippled through the group, their mouths hidden behind manicured hands as they leaned into one another with expressions of subtle distaste. The woman’s frown deepened, her skepticism clear as day, and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your heartbeat quickening.

You felt their judgment like a physical weight pressing down on you, your skin prickling under the heat of their stares. It wasn't just that you were younger than Mike, though that certainly added to their curiosity. It was the fact that you were stepping into a role that, in their eyes, you had no business stepping into.

Finally, Dr. Lillian spoke, her voice careful, almost too neutral. "I see," she said, her gaze still locked onto yours. "And Mike couldn't make it today?"

You shook your head, trying to explain. "He's caught up with some important work legal matters. He asked me to come pick her up and take her to her friend's house for a sleepover."

Dr. Lillian regarded you for another long moment, and you could tell she was assessing you, trying to decide if you were trustworthy. But before she could say anything more, a small figure came bounding towards you from the classroom. It was Abby, her face lighting up the second she saw you.

"There he is!" Abby's joyful cry cut through the tension like a knife as she ran up to you, her little arms reaching out for a hug. You crouched down just in time to catch her, scooping her up as she giggled happily.

Her small legs wrapping tightly around your waist. The sheer enthusiasm in her embrace sent a wave of relief washing over you, and you couldn't help but smile at her, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Abby's joy was infectious, her grin wide and unreserved as she tugged on your hand, dragging you over to where her friend was waiting. "This is my friend!" she exclaimed proudly, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she introduced you.

Dr. Lillian's expression softened at the sight, her skepticism melting as she observed Abby's unfiltered happiness. It was hard to argue with that kind of unguarded enthusiasm, and for a moment, she seemed to reconsider whatever reservations she might have had.

Abby was beaming, and the teacher, perhaps sensing the sincerity in her joy, nodded slowly, sending a pointed look at the other mothers whose judgmental whispers were now met with a silent rebuke.

With that single, subtle gesture, Dr. Lillian dismissed the underlying scrutiny from the room, her posture relaxing slightly as she glanced back at you.

"I see," she said, her tone more sweet now, though the hint of caution still lingered. "Well, Abby seems happy to see you." She turned her attention fully to Abby, offering her a warm smile. "You have fun with your friend, okay?"

Abby nodded enthusiastically, still clutching your hand as she looked up at you with the kind of trust that made your heart swell. Dr. Lillian gave you a final, appraising look, but there was something softer in her gaze now, her approval implied in the way she turned back to her duties, no longer questioning your presence.

Once you dropped Abby at the friend's house, you watched them run inside, giggling and shouting excitedly about their plans. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a quiet sense of accomplishment that you'd helped make her day.

With Abby safely at her sleepover, you decided to head over to Mike's place to give him the update in person. You knew how much he worried about her, and you figured he'd want to hear directly from you that everything had gone smoothly. Plus, you hadn't heard back from him since his call, and you couldn't shake the feeling that he might appreciate a little company, especially given how stressful things had been lately.

When you arrived at Mike's house and knocked, you heard his footsteps approaching before the door swung open. He looked a little tired as always, his hair slightly tousled and the faint shadows under his eyes betraying the strain of the day.

But when he saw you, his face lit up with a warm, albeit weary, smile.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you. A quick, soft peck that still managed to make your heart skip a beat. It was his way of saying thank you, his quiet, unspoken gratitude.

"Thanks for doing that," he said, stepping aside to let you in.

"No problem," you replied, squeezing his hand as you stepped through the doorway. "She's all set at her friend's house. They seemed really excited."

Mike nodded, but as you followed him into the living room, you noticed there, sitting stiffly on the couch, was Mike's aunt.

Her presence was like a cold wind blowing through the room, her posture rigid and her expression already set into a hard, disapproving line. She barely acknowledged your entrance, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced from Mike to you and back again.

"Well, isn't this a surprise," she said, her voice sharp and condescending. She had the kind of tone that suggested she was used to getting her way, her words laced with an undercurrent of disdain that immediately put you on guard.

"I was just telling Mike how important it is for Abby to have a stable home environment. And it definitely is not-“ She gestured vaguely in your direction, her lip curling in distaste “-whatever this is."

Mike's jaw tightened, his calm demeanor visibly strained under the weight of his aunt's hostility.

He stepped closer to you, his hand finding yours in a small, defiant show of solidarity. "This is none of your business," Mike said evenly, though there was a bite to his words that suggested he was holding back more than he let on.

"You're here to talk about Abby, not my personal life."

She scoffed, dismissing his words with a wave of her hand. "Your personal life directly affects Abby," she countered, her gaze now fixed firmly on you. "You think it's appropriate for her to be exposed to this? Two men playing house? It's confusing and, frankly, irresponsible. She needs a stable, traditional environment."

You could feel the anger simmering beneath your skin, a hot, bubbling frustration that threatened to spill over.

You knew what she was really after, it wasn't about Abby's well-being, but about money. You'd seen it in the way she maneuvered through every legal loophole, trying to make Mike's life as difficult as possible.

Mike squeezed your hand, a silent plea for patience, but you could see the hurt in his eyes, the way his aunt's words cut deeper than he'd ever admit. She wasn't just attacking you, she was undermining everything Mike had worked so hard for, all the sacrifices he'd made to be there for Abby.

“Now that I think about this little arrangement of yours. It's all so convenient, isn't it?" She paused, letting the weight of her words settle like a noose tightening around your neck. "Mike saw how you looked at him, didn't he? How you were desperate for his attention. And he played you like a fiddle, didn't he? Using that puppy-dog crush of yours to get exactly what he wanted."

She wasn't done. Oh, no, she had more to say, and it was clear she was savoring every moment of it.

"He's using you," she sneered, her voice dripping with icy contempt. "You're nothing more than a convenient babysitter for Abby. Someone to watch her without costing him a dime. And let's not forget the sex. Oh, that's just a nice little perk, isn't it, Mike?”

His arm, which had been resting lightly around your waist, suddenly tightened, pulling you closer as if to shield you from her venomous words.

"That's not true," Mike said, his voice low and trembling with barely controlled anger. His eyes, usually so calm and gentle, were now filled with a fierce protectiveness, his gaze locked onto his aunt with a mixture of disbelief and fury. “I would never— never use him like that.”

His words were laced with emotion, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. But you could feel the way his hand trembled slightly as it gripped your waist, the way his breath came in short, sharp bursts.

"I genuinely like him," Mike continued, his voice rising slightly, betraying the depth of his frustration. "He's not just some... some tool to be used when it's convenient. He's-" you placed your hand over his, squeezing gently to signal him to stop.

The simple gesture was enough to break through his anger, and he fell silent, his eyes searching yours for guidance. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the need to defend you warring with the exhaustion that had been weighing him down for weeks. You offered him a small, reassuring smile, letting him know that you understood, that you appreciated his defense, but that this wasn't worth losing himself over.

You'd had enough.

"Wow," you began, your voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and cool detachment, "you really went all out with that one, didn't you? I mean, it's almost impressive how far you're willing to stretch the truth just to make yourself feel better."

"You have no idea what's best for Abby, and neither does he!" She jabbed a finger towards Mike, her frustration boiling over. "You're both too young, too reckless, and you're making a mockery of what it means to raise a child!"

You could feel your pulse in your ears, a steady thrum of determination that pushed you to meet her gaze without flinching. "It’s ironic that you call us reckless when you’re the one trying to uproot Abby from a loving home for your own gain. Maybe it’s time to rethink who’s really being irresponsible here." you said firmly, your voice unwavering.

Her nostrils flared, her eyes blazing with anger as she glared at you, but there was no rebuttal. The truth of your words hung in the air and you could see the cracks forming in her façade.

With a final, furious huff, she grabbed her purse from the couch, her movements jerky and furious. "This isn't over” she spat, turning on her heel and marching towards the door. She slammed it shut behind her with enough force to rattle the walls, the impact made the door bounced back, swinging open again as if mocking her attempt to make a dramatic exit.

You rolled your eyes at her reaction, moving your legs to close the door. But before you had time to touch the handle, Mike turned you around and pressed you against the door, his body warm and solid against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

The door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you in the quiet of the house.

His eyes were open and raw, revealing a depth of emotion that took your breath away. Love, yes, but also a fierce protectiveness, a gratitude so profound it was almost overwhelming.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with the weight of the confrontation and the rush of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Then, without warning, Mike leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours as his eyes fluttered closed. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

You leaned up, closing the gap between you as your lips met his in a kiss.

His hands were gentle, but there was a trembling undercurrent of need in the way they roamed. One slipping into your hair, the other finding its way to your waist, pulling you in, anchoring you to him. Mike's kiss was urgent, driven by a whirlwind of emotions that had been bottled up for far too long.

He needed this.

Needed to let go of the frustration and the anger that had been simmering beneath the surface.

His hands roamed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

You returned his fervor, your hands trailing up his arms, feeling the strength hidden beneath his skin. You moved with him, letting him guide you back through the hallway, your bodies never parting as you made your way toward his bedroom.

Mike's kisses were insistent, almost desperate, his lips never leaving yours for more than a breath. His hands found their way to the hem of your shirt, fingers slipping underneath to feel the warmth of your skin.

He broke the kiss just long enough to meet your eyes, his gaze dark and filled with an intensity that took your breath away. "God, you have no idea how much I needed this," he murmured, his voice low and rough, the words almost a growl as they escaped his throat.

You nodded, your own breath ragged as you pressed another kiss to his lips.

His response was immediate, a fierce pull that had you stumbling back as he pushed forward, never letting the connection break. The back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you fell onto the mattress, Mike quickly following, his body hovering over yours.

He looked at you with a mix of reverence and raw hunger.

Mike's kisses trailed from your lips to your jaw, then down to the sensitive spot just below your ear, where he lingered, his breath hot and unsteady against your skin.

Mike's grip on your hips tightened, his breath hitching as he buried his face against your neck, his lips pressing fervent kisses to your skin.

The idea of you standing strong by his side, protecting what was his-what was yours-had driven him to the edge of control. And now, here in this moment, it was all spilling over.

"All mine. My good boy."

He mouthed along the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing lightly, just enough to make you gasp and arch into him.

He was methodical, almost reverent, as he worshiped every inch of you with his mouth, his hands, his entire being.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access, and he took the invitation eagerly, his kisses growing more urgent and demanding.

"God, you're so good," Mike whispered, his voice breaking with emotion as he held you tighter, his lips finding yours in a bruising kiss that left you both breathless.

His eyes were dark, half-lidded with desire, but there was also something softer, something deeply affectionate that made your chest tighten.

"So good for me. For us." His praise was a gentle hum against your lips.

He smiled.

A small, lopsided grin that was all Mike, the kind that never failed to make your heart flutter.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, a claiming of sorts, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a fervor that left you dizzy. The thought of you, him, and Abby as a family, an unbreakable unit, seemed to feed the fire inside him. It was as if the very notion had unlocked something within him, something primal and possessive, a need to make you his in every sense of the word.

Mike's hands found the hem of your shirt, and with a swift, decisive motion, he stripped you of it, the fabric discarded to the side without a second thought.

The cool air of the room met your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off Mike's body as he continued to kiss you, his lips tracing a path of fire down your chest.

Breathing it in, he lets out his tongue to slowly lick the tip of your cock through the fabric, a tingling sensation now courses its way all throughout your body making you a whimpering mess. Biting your lips to suppress the sound, you take your hand to grab a handful of Mike's curly hair.

You feel fingers around the rim of your underwear, as those said fingers pull them. He licks his lips and starts to lick you tip, now without the barrier of a fabric.

You throw your had back, arching your body, pushing your hips close to Mike's face.

Not taking any longer, he submits his mouth to take on your length, reaching up to the back of his throat, this earns him a scream from you, as you whimper more and more with his tongue tracing every vein and ridge.

You didn’t wanted this moment to end too soon.

Your hands instinctively moved to his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscles there.

For a brief moment, Mike paused, his lips lingering against your skin, his breath hot and unsteady. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire.

Without words, you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and guided him gently. You maneuvered him so that his back was now against the wall of the bedroom, your movements deliberate yet unhurried, a quiet assertion of the control you wanted to share.

Mike's eyes widened slightly at the change, the shift in power as you climbed onto his lap.

His hands found their way to your waist, his grip firm. His gaze roamed over you, a mix of pride and awe lighting up his features, his expression softening as he saw the confidence in your movements.

A slow, wicked smile curled his lips as he teased, "So, my sweet, good boy wants to be in control, huh?" The words were a low, husky murmur, a taunt laced with a deep seated affection that made your heart stutter.

Despite the blush that crept up your neck, fueled by the raw intensity of his gaze, you held his eyes and, with a shy but determined voice, you whispered, "I want to...I want to ride you, Mike. I want to make you feel good."

The admission hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, and you watched as his expression softened, the smirk giving way to something deeper, something that made your heart swell with love. "You already do, baby," he murmured, his hands sliding to your hips, guiding you. "But if that's what you want..."

He trailed off, giving you the power to take the lead. The sensation of his strong hands on your hips was intoxicating, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to tether you to reality, even as the rest of the world seemed to blur and fade away.

One by one, you undid them, each click of the fabric parting adding to the electric tension between you. Mike's breath hitched slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as he let himself sink into the sensation, the gentle tug of your hands, the soft brush of your fingertips against his skin.

His hands gently rested on your soft, supple ass.

He circled the hole gently before pressing his finger inside up to the second knuckle, leaning down to kiss you firmly. “Tell me if it’s too much.” He said calmly.

“No, don’t do it” you told him, head turning as the finger went in deeper.

Leaning down closer Mike kissed you softly, distracting you with that before adding in another finger. “I got you. Just hold onto me.”

Working the two fingers in deeper Mike watched for any reaction, kissing your lips over and over when you squeezed his shoulders.

Suddenly you let out a strangled cry of pleasure, hips bucking upward to press the two fingers in deeper. That was the spot you wanted. He massaged that little area over and over, biting little marks along your shoulders and upper chest.

After the third finger you were begging for more, digging your nails into Mike shoulders and moaning against his lips.

With trembling hands, you reached down, feeling the heat of his arousal through the fabric that still separated you. The anticipation was a slow burn, an exquisite torture as you took your time, savoring the way his breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

And then, with deliberate slowness, you freed him, your hands sure and steady as you positioned yourself over him.

His gaze never left yours, the connection between you unbreakable as you slowly sank down onto him, the feeling so overwhelming that it stole the breath from your lungs. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, was almost too much, a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, but you craved it, needed it.

A low groan rumbled from deep within his chest as he watched you, his eyes dark with desire, his hands gripping your hips with a possessiveness that made your heart race. "God, you feel so good," he whispered, his voice strained, as though he was holding on to his control by the thinnest of threads.

You began to move, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that had both of you gasping, the friction between your bodies igniting a fire that consumed you both.

Mike's hands roamed your body, caressing, gripping, guiding you as you moved together, the sounds of your pleasure mingling with the soft creak of the bed and the muffled rustle of sheets.

He couldn't keep his eyes off you, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your body moved above his, and it was clear that he was completely lost in you.

His control slipped as the pleasure built between you, his thrusts meeting yours with a rising urgency, and you could feel the tension in his body coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

The realization that you were doing this to him, that you had the power to bring him to the brink, fueled your own arousal, driving you to move faster, harder.

His thrusts and your bounces becomes sloppier and sloppier, your body fidgeting, twitching, shaking all around, especially around your bottom area. Another set of moans, whimpers and grunts escapes both of your lips, no sign of stopping whatsoever from the immense pleasure you two are receiving from each other.

You place both of your hands in his chest, positioning yourself better to let his cock fuck you harder and vigorously.

When Mike's release finally hit, it was with a guttural cry of your name, his head tipping back against the wall as his body shuddered beneath you. The intensity of his climax triggered your own, and you collapsed against him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you and and fluids fill your body, some of it dripping out of you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still locked together, hearts pounding in sync as you came down from the high. Mike's hands, which had been gripping you so tightly, softened their hold, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"You”, he whispered, his voice rough and breathless, "you're everything I've ever needed” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You grinned, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. "You'd probably have to find another boyfriend to fight off your evil relatives."

Mike let out a mock groan, rolling his eyes playfully. "Please, don't even joke about that. You're one of a kind. And besides, I'm not sure I could handle someone else. They might not be as good at shutting her up."

You both shared a laugh at that, the sound echoing through the quiet room, lightening the atmosphere. It felt good to laugh, to share this moment of joy and levity after everything you had both been through.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

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