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xshadowdelta · 4 months ago

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Former Manager

Part One: Back in town.

Jo Yuri x Male Reader (2.9K Length)

The abrupt movements and the deceleration sensation alerted you, waking you up. Automatically you took a quick look out through the window of your seat, the clouds gave way to a landscape that brought back many memories, it wasn’t your first time landing at the Incheon Airport.

You got off the plane, taking your suitcase ready to leave the terminal. Breathing the air of that place in an attempt to calm you down, but you failed when all your memories flooded into your brain in a succession of images.

You started to walk thinking about it thoroughly, that nerves invade your body was kind of stupid being honest, you had done this before and with a lot more pressure according to yourself, after all not everyone could boast of have been a manager for the popular girl group Iz*One.

That’s right, after committing the biggest folly of your life by deciding to move to South Korea instead of go to the college you found a miracle job, specifically being one of the Iz*One managers for 1 year and a half. That was until due to some personal reasons you were forced to return to your home country. And 4 years later here you are, back in the Asian country to resume your job as a manager.

You were surprised when Wake One Entertainment contacted you offering a new job. Apparently they didn’t have enough managers in the company due to the arrival of new groups, which caused a total restructuring of the staff, leaving Kep1er in search of a new manager. That’s where you and your good work done with Iz*One years ago came in, knowing that the new head of the staff was one of your coworkers at that time.

It was a really complicated decision to make for several reasons: 1. You hadn't spoken the language for a long period of time. 2. Take care of a group full of teenage divas wasn’t an easy job. 3. And you were comfortable in your current job. Seen this way, only a crazy person would accept that offer. Exactly what you did 5 minutes later.

You came back down to earth as the cab stopped, and you were able to see right in front of you the Wake One building. You walked inside the building and introduced yourself to the front desk indicating that you were coming for the manager vacancy, one of the receptionists guided you to the conference room where your interview would take place.

The interview was nothing more than a formality, obviously the vacancy was yours, but certain guideline had to be met.

They told you that the Kep1er girls were currently in the USA for the KCON, so you would not start working with them until the next week, once they returned.

You returned to the main lobby, the keys of your new house were given to you alongside your company car with some more documents to sign.

It was at that moment meanwhile you were signing the documents that you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name. “Manager oppa!”

You turned yourself to face the former Iz*One member and now soloist, Jo Yuri. “It is really you, manager oppa!?” She shouted in surprise, covering her mouth with her hands.

Your heart almost skipped a beat as you looked her up and down. She was no longer that little girl she used to be when you were spending your days with her. Even though she had grown up, she still had that youthful look.

“Excuse me, but…” You left the pen over the desk. “Do i know you?”

Her facial expression faded as soon as you said that, turning from surprise to annoyance.

“Do you really forgot about me, oppa!?” Her louder and offended voice made you laugh and making her even angrier.

“I couldn’t forget you so easy, Yuri.” You told her showing a smile and she sigh annoyed. “You still like teasing me. But it’s been a long time, what are you doing here?” Her tone sounded cheerful again.

“Woah, so now you’ll be managing Kep1er, they are so lucky to have you I envy them, but now I have to record my new song, hope to see you often around the company, oppa!” You said goodbye to her as you watched her to disappear when the elevator closed its doors, didn’t expect to meet one of your former members so soon.

You walked out the building to take the car and drive right to your new home, making a quick stop in a convenience store to buy some fast food for dinner accompanied by a drink.

Finally, you arrived at home, left the food bag and some papers on a nearby table and plopped down on the sofa visibly tired, jet lag was taking its toll.

Even so, you found the strength to browse through some things and investigate more about your new members while you had dinner. You were relieved to know that they were fewer than the last time, although from what you could see in some videos they seemed louder, especially that little girl named Hikaru.

You finished for today, noticing that it was already dark outside and decided to take a long relaxing shower before getting into bed, whereas you tried to fall asleep your memories of years ago with the Iz*One girls came flooding back.

After your step down you had been following from the distance the evolution of every member career, and you couldn't be more proud of each one of them, but seeing them now in real life would be a different feeling.

Then you remembered the brief encounter with Yuri in the company, you began to think about how much she changed in these years, she was one of the younger members back then, but now she seemed so much mature.

You couldn’t help but think how much her body had changed this time, she was all grown up and transform into a real woman. You even noticed how good she fit in those jeans she was wearing today that enhanced her hips and showed off her ass.

BUT WHAT THE HELL I AM EVEN THINKING! You shouted in your mind sitting up in the bed breathing heavily, how you could be thinking about her in that way, about one of the girls you took care for almost two years, the one you practically treated like a younger sister.

You lay back down in bed again, looking at the ceiling and then looked down at your pelvic area, noticing the big erection that had formed under your pants. “I must be sick.” You whispered, slipping your hand under your clothes, trying to stimulate yourself before falling asleep.

The next morning you made your way to the company, but first you took a shower and had breakfast that only consists of a coffee cup and a couple of cookies. The biggest part of the day happened in the office, you had so much work to do before Kep1er returned from their activities.

Around lunchtime someone knocked to your door, you stretched out on the chair giving way to the person who has knocked. “Oppa, let’s have lunch together!” Yuri exclaimed showing her head out the door.

She burst into your office carrying a heavy bag that lifted it to your eyes level.

“Yuri…”

“I assumed that you'll have a lot of work in your first day, and you always insisted me on not skipping meals, so it’s my time to pay you back.” she said with a big smile. She had touched you there.

“I really missed tteokbokki.” You said eating the food. Yuri was sitting in the chair in front of you, she wasn’t eating but admiring you. “Do I have to remind you that you also have to eat?” You scolded her, but she just laughed at it. “Don’t worry about me, I want to eat other type of food…” “Which one?” You asked, taking one more fried chicken piece. “You.” Hearing that made the piece of chicken slip on your chopsticks and roll off the desk, you couldn’t say anything, you were petrified.

“You spend a lot of time with Yena, now you also replicate her stupid jokes.”

“It’s not a joke, oppa.” For the first time ever you could see an unusual expression on her face, one you have never seen before, what was going on with her?

“Yuri, stop this joke now, it’s not funny…” “I’ve already told you, it’s not a joke…” She said standing up from her chair and crawled under your desk, reaching you.

“Yuri! What are you doing?”

“You are so tense, oppa, you should relax.” At this point she was fully under your desk reaching your legs and touching between them, why was this happening to you?

“I always thought that the first one to do something like this with you would be Eunbi unnie, years ago I found out she was talking about it together with Hyewon unnie and Chaeyeon unnie.” Hear that made you open wide your eyes, it couldn’t be true. “It’s kind of normal, a young women group with raging hormones and such a young manager, kind and attractive, it’s every girl’s dream.”

But she was right, back then you were too much young to managing a group, actually you still are today, even Eunbi was older than you. That’s why you considered all of them as your sisters, and that’s why this situation was so complicated.

“Yuri…we both knows this is so wrong.” You tried to reason with her.

“You are not my manager anymore and we both are adults, but mostly important…” She touched the huge bulge that had already formed under your pants. “You really desire it, don’t you?”

“Yuri, please, anyone could come in at any moment.” Your words were useless, she was already unbuckling the belt of your pants, and you couldn’t or rather didn’t want to do anything to stop her. A few seconds later you could felt how your penis was set free.

“IT’S SO BIG!” She exclaimed, amazed by the size of your dick, making you shift restlessly in your seat.

“Lower your voice, someone could hear you.” You scold her and became more and more anxious as you looked towards the door of your office.

“Sorry, it’s just…it’s incredible oppa.”

Her eyes couldn't be apart from your dick, she was totally hypnotized looking at it, but suddenly she started to massage your penis with her hands, making you moan.

She ran her tongue all over your length, from the tip to your balls and repeated this for a while, at each repeat your cock was more and more wet and your knuckles were turning white due to the strength you were grappling to the chair armrest.

She looked at your face still kneeling down ad if she was asking for permission to continue, you succumbed to the temptation, you had already fallen time ago, and nodded your head. Then she opened her mouth and put every inch of your cock she could inside her. She was struggling to make you be fully inside her mouth, but you were so much huge to her, so she decided to move her tongue around the part of your dick that was already inside.

You couldn’t describe what you were feeling at that moment, it was the nearest to being in pleasure paradise you never experienced. Yuri’s tongue didn’t stop moving over your penis, constants moves that went in unison with your moans.

She made an effort to make you fit completely in her mouth, you looked at her, noticing her cheeks filled with your cock. You let out a loud moan as the tip of your cock brushed against her throat.

She peeled herself off you for air, gasping visibly and with a large thread of saliva coming out of her mouth, masturbating you meanwhile she tried to recover.

“How the hell are you so good at this?” She smiled, taking that as a compliment. “I’ve dreamed a lot of times with this moment, I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s certainly better than masturbating by myself like last night.” You mentioned out loud as if you were talking to yourself. It took you a second to realize your mistake.

“Wait, what I wanted to say was…”

“I see.” She cut you off. “Manager oppa is a dirty man who has always thought about having me like this with him.”

“NO!” You quickly denied provoking her loud laughs.

“But it makes me happy, because you were always good and kind to me, so it’s my time to make oppa’s fantasies come true” She said bringing your cock closing to her mouth once again.

“What you mean?” You asked when a sinister smiled was formed on her face.

“Fuck my mouth, oppa.”

And there you lost the last shred of self-control you had, if you still had any.

As soon as she resumed the blowjob, you put one of your hands behind her head, making her swallow the entire of your length. Yuri supported her hands on your chair, trying to follow with her head the pace that you were now setting.

You could hear how she was choking on your cock every time your hands down her head into it. A bit worried, you tried to be less rude and give her a rest, but her hands stopped you, telling you that she was enjoying this as much as you.

“My god, Yuri...just like that…” You kept moaning, grabbing her hair that was falling into her forehead at the same time you started to move your hips making you go deeper on her mouth, fucking her throat.

She looked at you with fire in her eyes, telling you with her gaze that she wanted even more, you didn’t hesitate and kept fucking her mouth more aggressively.

You let her go, giving her time to catch her breath, her eyes were watering, and her makeup was totally ruined. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life.

You bent down to lift her chin and kiss her passionate for a while until you separated from her and leaned back in your seat. You took your own penis in your hands, offering it to her.

“Finish the job.”

She immediately went back to sucking you desperately, her mouth was already habituated perfectly to your size, so you could notice how she was improved by the time pass.

You took her hands, forcing her to satisfy you using only her head. Sometimes it would slip out of her mouth and she would struggle to suck it back in, completely possessed by lust.

Her face was between your hands now, you couldn’t stop admiring the way she was sucking you, she placed your penis into her right cheek then you touched the resultant bulge, she stopped then and let your dick rest in her mouth closing her eyes enjoying your caresses.

If it were up to you, you would have stayed like this forever, but unfortunately it was time to end.

“Make sure to swallow it all.” You warned moving your hips faster feeling your load concentrating on your tip letting you know you were ready for the shot.

“YURI!” You screamed, unable to hold back any longer, reaching the orgasm and shooting your cum straight down her throat.

She did her best to hold it all in, but at the end a bit of cum dripped out of her mouth and ran down her chin to finally fall to the office floor.

The rest of your cum was still inside her mouth, she stepped back and opened her mouth to show you the amount of cum you gave to her. You watched her swallow all your cum at once, and that made you feel hornier than ever.

“Good girl.” You smiled at her.

She smiled you back and stood up, grabbing her bag to pull out a small makeup set, and trying to fix the mess you both made on her.

“Good as new.” She said, looking at herself in the small mirror. “Thanks for the meal oppa, hope we can repeat.” And she winked at you, making you come back to reality.

“Yuri, this was amazing, believe me, but it can’t happen again, or I will be in problems.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’ll make sure no one would discover us and…” Her cheeks turned red for a second.

“And?”

“I was thinking, maybe oppa can teach me a lot of things…” Oh, she was talking on that sense.

Your cheeks went also full red color and your brain started to malfunction, trying hard to formalize an excuse, a reason to refuse while she headed towards the door.

“Oh, I almost forget about it.” She stopped in the doorway.

“I told the girls about you, and they want to see you, Eunbi unnie will host a dinner party for us tonight in her house, you can’t miss it!” She said cheerful before leaving the office.

“Great, just what I needed.” You mumbled to yourself in an ironic way, throwing yourself back in the chair, noticing that you still had your member free, and hurried to get dressed again.

You slammed your face against the desk causing a louder sound and let it out a big sigh. “I’m going to get fired.”

#kpop smut #izone smut #yuri smut #male reader #smut #jo yuri smut

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graysturns · 6 months ago

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𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕? | 𝕔.𝕤.

1.5k+ words

note: hey guys :) this should be short and sweet but i hope you like it anyways. i love soft chris! also last pic is me on my period and that’s why i wrote this + i hate rachel

warnings: none i think just me hating my coworker

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

long as you dreaming bout me ain’t no problem,

i don’t got nobody, just with you right now,

11:47 pm

my phone buzzes twice, causing it to brightly light up in its spot right by my face.

“ughh, leave me alone!” i groan, tossing it to chris’ side of the bed.

“what is it baby?” chris walks into our room, shutting the door quietly and placing a water bottle on my nightstand. he sits beside me and rubs my back slowly.

“rachel from work wants me to cover her shift tomorrow. something about ACT testing.”

he raises an eyebrow at me. “isn’t that something you would request the day off for? y’know like, in advance?”

“that’s what i said.” i roll my eyes before proceeding.

“i already told her no, but she keeps insisting because i’m the only person off tomorrow.”

chris leans over to grab my phone, unlocking it and putting it on do not disturb.

“it’s about time you have a day off. they’ve been putting you on the schedule every day now.” he sighs, combing his fingers through my hair.

“i know. and today was shit.” i huff out.

“do you wanna talk about it?” chris watches me intently.

“i just don’t wanna complain too much.”

“baby, i looove hearing you complain. it’s like, my favorite part of every day.” he taunts.

“only if you insist,” i sit up and smile cheekily at him.

he repositions himself so he sits across from me, pulling his knees up under his chin.

“talk to me sweetheart,” he grabs my hand, kissing my knuckles.

“so i clock in, and right away i’m being told to get on the espresso machine. my manager was supposed to work alongside me but she kept getting pulled away for manager things so i was doing both positions at our station, which is fine, but during a rush it can be a lot.” i start to ramble.

“and the second she gets back, i get the feeling that i started my period! and i completely forgot about it because i’ve been so busy, so i didn’t have any tampons on me,” i continue.

chris drops my hand and reaches into his hoodie pocket, revealing a bottle of pamprin.

“i actually got the notification earlier from your period app, so i brought these upstairs.” he smiles to himself, opening the bottle and shaking a couple tablets out on my palm.

“chris, thank you!” i exclaim, popping them in my mouth and taking a sip of the water.

“of course babe, i got you.” he pokes my stomach.

“so what else happened?” he asks me.

“well after that it slowed down a little. but the whole coffee shop was a mess after the rush and since we were closing, we had to deep clean everything. i’m just so sore and i want to die,”

“i get it, babe. did you shower yet?”

“the second i got home. fucking rachel spilled a pitcher of cold brew on my thigh and i was so sticky.”

he nods with a slight smile, moving his body up against the headboard.

he laid back in his spot and motioned me over to lay on his chest.

“fucking rachel.” he tsks while rubbing my back.

“why do you hate her so much anyways?” he drops his head to look at me.

“well, do you remember that one day you came through the drive through right before my shift ended? you were picking me up and decided to get a drink.”

he thinks for a moment, “mhm?”

“well she was working the window, and she came to tell us all there was a hot guy outside. basically telling the girls to come look,”

“yeah i remember a few girls came by, pretending to stock cups or something. that’s rachel?”

my lips drew a tight line.

“remember how she had you pull into a parking spot, saying they’d bring the drink out to you?”

“mhm?” he asks again.

“well, she decided to write her number down on a slip of paper and hoped to give it to you on her way out, along with your coffee. i left before her, so while i was getting settled in the car, she was walking up to you trying to rizz you up.”

his mouth forms an ‘o’.

“what a sneaky bitch!” he chuckles.

i roll my eyes at him.

“chris it’s not funny. my coworker wants to fuck you.”

“well it’s never gonna happen, sweetheart. she’s insane if she thinks that.”

i mess with the drawstring on his hoodie, picking at the plastic end.

“it’s just frustrating. she’s been doing little things to mess with me, since the moment she saw us together in your car. like today with the cold brew, that was fully on purpose.”

he sighs, patting the back of my head. “why don’t you just quit? you don’t need to work.”

“chris, you can’t pay for everything,” i sigh, dropping the thin rope.

“i actually can. besides, i’d much rather have you here at home, happy and free to do what you want with all that extra time.”

i smile up at him, lightly running my nails across his stubble.

“you’re too sweet to me, but i can’t let you financially support me chris. we aren’t even married.”

this time, he rolls his eyes at me.

“so what? we already live together. you’re my shawty or whatever the kids say,” he laughs, picking up a strand of my hair, tickling my nose with the end.

“the kids in 2009, and don’t say that ever again, chris.” i snort.

“no but seriously. i know how much you hate this job. and fucking rachel.” he smirks.

“i’ll apply to a few different places in the morning. and we’ll go from there.”

“no, y/n.” he grabs my hand, holding it between us.

“it’s making you miserable, you can quit now and i’ll hold things down until you find something else.”

“chris, i already told you, it’s not fair to you. you’re not my husband, and you don’t need to provide for me.”

he looks to the ceiling for a moment, pondering.

chris faces me again, grabbing hold of my cheeks. “wanna get married?”

“married? chris i-i’d marry you in an instant but not for this reason. you can’t be-“

he pulls away from me and leans over his side of the bed, digging through his nightstand.

turning to face me, he opens his fist to reveal a ring.

what the hell? i sit up quickly.

“y/n.” he holds the ring up.

“i’ve been wanting to do this for a while. i know my timing may not be ideal, but i hate the fact that i’m not your husband, and i hate the fact that you won’t let me take care of you. married or not, i’m always going to be here to take care of you, to help you, to love on you, especially when you’re having a day like today.” chris takes my hands in his, holding the ring on his fingertip.

“..but i’d really rather be married to you and do all those things.”

“chris, you don’t mean..” i begin.

“don’t act all surprised now.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“you know i love you, we’ve talked about getting married someday. i think we should just do it sooner than later.”

“chris, i don’t know what to say. i want to marry you, i just don’t think it should be because i hate my job.”

“it’s not because of that. i’ve been planning this, if i wasn’t then there wouldn’t be a ring here. what do you think?”

“holy fuck, chris.” i take his hand and open it, placing my left one in his palm.

“let’s get married.” i smile up at him.

he slides the ring on and tackles me into a hug, causing us both to fall backwards on the bed.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you!” he chants while peppering kisses all over my face.

short, sweet kisses turn into a long, heated make out that gets interrupted by three dings from my phone.

“did you not see me turn your phone on do not disturb?” chris huffs out.

“i swear to god if it’s rachel..” i pause, leaning over to pick up my phone.

“she did that ‘notify anyway’ thing. she’s insisting i cover for her tomorrow.”

my phone starts to buzz in my hand, causing chris’s head to snap in its direction.

“absolutely not!” he grabs the phone and clicks it off, throwing it on the other side of the bed.

“fucking rachel. someone needs to punch her in her throat.” he says jokingly.

“h-hello?” a small voice escapes my phone.

“shit, chris i thought you declined the call!” i lunge for the device, end the call and turn the phone off.

“do you think she heard me?” he asks, wide eyed, with a smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

“i don’t care, i’m quitting that job anyways. i have a husband now.’ i beam at him, waving my hand in his face.

“hell yeah you do!” he places his hands on my waist and brings me back down to him.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

hope u liked it 🤍 also this is dedicated to rachel i hate u please quit so i don’t have to! just kidding that’s mean! (i’m not)

comment if u hate rachel too

tags!

@imwetforyourmom @anonymouslyachrisgirl @junnniiieee07 @imtalkinnonsense @wh0resstuff

if you wanna be added comment here!

#Spotify #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfic #fanfic #soft chris

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artdcnaldson · 6 months ago

Note

In part 2 you mentioned Patrick x reader having makeup sex after they got into stupid argument…. Can we get a flashback to one of those moments🤭🤭 domestic Patrick starting an argument with reader and reader calling him out about it but they end up making up in a cute way. Like Patrick making it up in a corny but cute way??? Just a suggestion, part 2 was amazing btw!

Rating: T

Warnings: just a minor argument, language ofc

A/N: thank youuuu!!! No smut in this little blurb, just a snapshot of domestic Patrick x reader in the changeover au 🫶🫶🫶

Also working on art x reader first time and also Patrick x reader first I love you blurbs for the changeover au :) so those will be coming sooooon

It was easy to let the stupid arguments devolve. It started with a facial expression when you brought up your college roommate’s wedding. An eye roll, an I-don’t-want-to-fucking-deal-with-that. And that became your, “why do you treat my friends and my life as less important?”

“I can’t fucking believe you got that out of me wanting to ditch Katie’s wedding to her dickhead loser fiancé.” Patrick’s words came out so flippant that it infuriated you further. “You don’t even talk to her outside of Facebook comments.”

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I didn’t realize that you’d be so fucking opposed to free food and booze considering you live off of it.”

Patrick set his jaw, glaring at you. It was a low blow, one you knew would sting. “I’m opposed to wasting my time flying out to bum fuck Iowa to because Katie— who has always hated me, by the way— is marrying some dickhead who’s a shill for a corrupt asshole in congress.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she would like you, Patrick, if you ever put in an ounce of effort with anyone besides me.”

“Right, because I need to be friends with the kind of people whose proposal was a flash mob.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Right, because you’re just too cool for stuff like that.”

It was so fucking like him— making fun of the lame proposals your friends got, or their baby names, or their engagement shoots. Sometimes they were lame— flash mobs were fucking stupid— but sometimes they were sweet, and romantic, and there was Patrick acting like he’d rather blow his brains out than ever publicly admit he cared.

“Yeah, I am.” He said back.

You rolled your eyes and stood. “Whatever, Patrick. I’ll RSVP for one, again, and you can bum around my apartment alone.”

You had slammed the bedroom door before he could respond, which left him alone and seething in the living room.

You heard the front door open, then slam shut, signaling that Patrick was going out for a smoke, or a walk, or something.

You opened Facebook and scrolled through your feed. Katie’s engagement photos, a coworker’s new baby, a college friend’s bachelorette weekend. And there you were, fighting so your boyfriend would finally be your plus one to something.

It wasn’t always his fault— he had tournaments, and commitments. But a lot of the time, it was an active dismissal of things you found important— engagement parties, friends visiting the city, the increasingly common baby shower.

You didn’t blame him. Adult stuff sucked, and it was almost always boring and agonizingly slow. But you just wanted him to show up with you for things that were big.

It would be stupid to break up over Katie, who you genuinely weren’t even that close to. She’d been a decent friend Freshman year, you supposed, but that was the extent of it. The invitation to the wedding was probably a formality.

All you wanted was an excuse to show off your super hot, super cool boyfriend. To get tipsy over free booze, then leave the wedding early to fuck in the shitty Best Western hotel room that wedding guests would get a discount rate on.

A few hours later, the front door opened, and you sat up against the headboard, waiting eagerly to see if he’d be the first to break, or if you would.

You heard four gentle knocks against the door, saw Patrick’s sneakers beneath the door. “You can come in,” you said softly.

Patrick slipped into the room and joined you on the bed. He kept space between you, just in case you were still mad, but met your gaze with the sad eyes of a kicked puppy.

“I bought a suit,” was all he said. “And I tried to buy you a huge bouquet of flowers since I was a dickhead, but my card declined since I just bought the suit, so…”

His hand was resting on the empty expanse of mismatched bedsheets between you. You moved your hand into his, tangling your fingers together. “You bought a suit, huh?”

He nodded, squeezing your hand lightly. “I’ll stop being a dick about Katie’s wedding.” He paused, turning away from your gaze. “I think… I’m away so much that when I’m home, I just want it to be me and you.”

You leaned forward and kissed his nose. “I just want to show you off to everyone I know,” you said lightly. Your forehead stayed pressed to his, and you relished in the closeness. “I don’t give a fuck about Katie or her ugly loser fiancé’s stupid wedding.”

Patrick grinned. “Oh? So you just want a hot, professional athlete to be your arm candy, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re always cheapening the moment.” You leaned forward kissing him sweetly, which always seemed to devolve into a hungry mess of tongues and spit when Patrick was involved.

“Wait—“ you said suddenly, right as Patrick began peeling off your top. “You said your fucking card declined? You drained your bank account for this stupid wedding?”

He paused, his hands warm on your bare skin. “Uh… it felt like a grand gesture kind of moment.” You leaned in and kissed him, pulling your shirt off the rest of the way.

Not smutty but I neeeeeeeded to write some domestic Patrick x reader 😁🫶 my pookies my babies my loves

#changeover au #patrick zweig fanfic #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #my writing #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader

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jezabelle9299 · 1 month ago

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Coffee Break S.R x FEM! reader

Overture- Emily has been getting you coffee in the morning, and while you really appreciate it, you haven't actually been drinking them

CWs-None really, mild insecurity. (Also reader doesn't like coffee and is very non-confrontational.

A/N-Day 13, and posted on time? I'm a little proud of myself.

It really was so sweet. On your first day Emily was the first person to talk to you, and starting on your second day, she’d bring you a coffee most mornings. The first time, you’d thanked her and then let the coffee go to waste, pretending to drink it every few minutes, but otherwise just feeling guilty about not liking it. The second day however, it seemed like this might be a regular thing, so you looked to your new deskmate Spencer.

“Hey Spencer, can you keep a secret?”

“Sure, what’s going on?” He was already intrigued, so he leaned over his desk to get closer to you.

“So Emily got me this coffee and it was really sweet of her, and I really don’t want it to go to waste, but I don’t actually like coffee. Do you maybe want it?”

“Sure, thank you. But you can just tell her you don’t like coffee, she’ll get you something else.” He took the mug from you, with only slight hesitation.

“No way, it was really nice, and I really don’t want to tell her.”

“Alright, well thank you. But she really wouldn’t be mad.”

****************

That was two weeks ago. When you would bring Emily coffee, you got hot tea and didn’t say anything, and when she brought you coffee, you’d pour it in Spencer’s mug and keep the cup as a prop. It was too late to say anything now. So maybe you’d just pretend to like coffee forever.

“So are you ever going to tell her you don’t actually like coffee?” Spencer moved his chair around the side of his desk to sit closer to you, also helping to cover up you pouring your coffee into his mug.

“Probably not.”

“You can’t fool them forever. They’re all here for behavioral analysis, and they will notice eventually.”

“But they haven’t noticed yet. I once let my boss call me the wrong name for two years, and I wasn’t even the one who corrected him. I could do this forever.” After finally finishing with the coffee, you handed it back to him. But he was in no hurry to move away from you.

“Please tell me we have not been calling you the wrong name.” He looked confused and surprisingly upset at that prospect.

“No! No– I promise I’m only lying about the coffee thing.”

“And remind me again why you would do that.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem mean, and I don’t want her to think she’s been buying me coffee just for it to go to waste or something, but I don’t want to drag you into it.”

“I don’t think I could see a world in which anyone thinks you’re mean, especially since you’re willing to lie about liking something just for someone else’s benefit.”

“Thank you, but–could you please just keep it a secret?”

“Of course, and I would like to say that you’re putting an impressive amount of effort into this.”

“Thank you. And I appreciate you drinking the coffee for me, I really would hate to waste it.”

“I’ll always take an extra coffee in the morning.”

“Well aren’t you two sweet having your coffee together in the morning. Send me an invite to the wedding, yeah?” Derek teased as he walked by, making his way toward Penelope’s office. Neither of you could think of anything to say, not for lack of trying.

But once he left, you and Spencer finally got your brains working again, left to revel in the embarrassment of your coworker teasing you like that.

“Don’t worry, I plan on thoroughly destroying him later.” He said it fully serious, and you couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit. You couldn’t imagine Spencer really destroying anyone, he was too sweet.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader

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bambi-slxt · 5 months ago

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🤍𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠🤍

𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞

word count: 5.8k (this shit is LONG LMFAOOO)

genre/tropes: established connection, relationship, sharing is literally caring, romance

warnings: none :) just a lot of fluff and some super sweet smut at the end

notes from bambi: this work doesn't contain incest, just male on female times two. i know it's long but i really hope you guys like this one.

credit to @inkyray for proofreading! thank u bro <3

“Shit.”

All of it, every single customer, every single coworker, every single interaction from the second I woke up to the moment I sat down on the boys’ white couch–”All of it…just plain shit.”

The Sturniolo townhouse felt peaceful today, which is something I would have noticed if it wasn’t so fucking loud in my head. Their high windows filtered in the warm sunlight, but it felt hot and oppressive on my skin and my eyes and I just needed a goddamn break. Groaning with the effort, I hoisted myself up off the plush couch and trundled off to Matt’s room.

I closed his door behind me with a sigh of relief. With the blinds closed, his room was dark and cool, and my chest seemed to deflate with the release of tension the new environment brought. I stripped off all of my clothes and left them in a heap at the foot of his desk, utterly unable to bear their texture any fucking longer. Within seconds of crawling into the fetal position under his comforter and top satin sheet, I was out like a light in Matt’s bed.

Matt dug around in his cup holder, hunting for the garage door remote. His van sat idling in the driveway until he produced it, tapping the top-most button and waiting for the heavy metal door to roll upwards and out of the way. He scrunched his brows at the sight of her car–Didn’t she have work until late tonight? Vowing to get back to that particular issue, he elected to focus on the matter at hand–parking the behemoth of a vehicle he drove. Pulling into the garage slowly, he checked his windows and mirrors, making small adjustments as necessary until he was happy with his work. Switching off the car, Matt grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, closed the garage, and stepped into the house.

No sign of her. He ascended the landing, reaching the ground floor with ease, looking for any indication of his only female housemate. “What the fuck…?” he mumbled, stepping over the columns of light cast by his living room windows and making his way down the darker hallway to his room.

Cracking his door open, Matt’s eyes flicked up to the suspicious human-shaped lump in his bed. Found her. He set his bag down softly, tossing his shoes off with ginger tenderness underneath his desk. The pile of clothes caught Matt’s gaze–Not mine. Hers? Yeah, that’s her work shirt…it’s got tear stains on it. Musta’ been a bad day. Probably why she’s home early. He never was slow on the uptake, despite what his brothers may have claimed.

Matt walked over to the edge of his mattress, reaching out his hand to run a knuckle along her arm. “Hey, kid…’M home.”

I slept for what could have been days. My body felt heavy, like it was full of cement, and I struggled to wake up to the touch on my shoulder. “Mmm…Matt?”

“Yeah, it’s me. You okay?” I dragged my hand up to rub my eyes, but he placed his own on my wrist. “Your makeup…”

“Thanks,” I murmured. “What time is it?”

“Little after five,” Matt said, rubbing my arm over the blanket. “Why’d you come home so early?”

I shook my head slowly and tucked his fingers under my neck. “Shitty day.”

“‘M sorry, kid. Anything I can do?”

I looked up at him as he sat on the edge of his bed, blue eyes hooded with worry and love, tufts of hair feathering his forehead…He looks like an angel. “Later…yes. Is it okay if I sleep some more?”

“Course.” I held his hand tighter, pressing my dried lips to his skin. “You forgot to take chapstick with you when you left this morning, huh.”

“Yeah,” I grumbled.

“You want some from Nick’s room?”

“Yes, please. Mint, if he has it?”

Matt stood up, stroking my temple with his fingertips. “I got ya.”

In a minute, he’d left and returned, balm in hand. I reached out gratefully, but at the sight of my shaking hand, he shook his head and uncapped it himself. “Come here.” Matt coaxed me upwards, cradling me in his lap. His comforter slipped from my body, revealing my naked torso. “Oh baby,” he murmured, “Were you too hot or somethin’?” I nodded, resting my head against the front of his shoulder. Shaking his head, Matt pressed the tube of moisturizer against my lips, dragging it across for a good handful of swipes. His arm tensed behind me, holding me up, rock-steady as always. “There you go.” He lay me back down onto his pillows, covering me back up with his bedding. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’m gonna make dinner and Chris comes back home tonight, so if you wanna come back out, we’ll be in the living room, okay?”

I nodded again, taking hold of his hand once more, giving it a much better kiss this time around. “Tell me when…he comes home…I love you,” I whispered, exhaustion rolling over me in waves.

He smiled gently, twisting his fingers until they rested under my chin, drumming thrice on my skin to return the sentiment. Tap. I. Tap. Love. Tap. You. “Sleep, kid. Come out when you’re ready.”

I slipped into nothingness once more.

Chris, still panting, dumped his overstuffed duffel bag onto the floor of his room and collapsed on his bed. What a fucking trip.

At that moment, his door opened and Matt stepped in. “Hey, man.”

“Missed you, bro,” Chris said, smiling his eyes away as he lugged himself up to hug his brother.

After a hearty clap on the back from each one to the other, they pulled away and Matt leaned on the doorframe while Chris bent down to take off his shoes.

“‘M makin’ food. Want some?”

“Duh. What kinda question is that?”

“Come help then,” Matt huffed, grinning still.

Chris rolled his eyes and followed him out, thudding and thumping his way up the stairs. “Never get a moment’s peace in this fucking house.”

“I think you’ll be fine,” Matt grumbled. Hopping the last step, he crossed the kitchen and reacquainted himself with the ingredient-covered counter.

“Hey, I saw her car in the garage, is she home?”

Back at his cooking station, Matt gave him a half-turn and tilted his head toward the hallway. “Sleepin’ in my room,” he sighed, stirring whatever concoction he had in front of him. “Had a bad day and called out for the night…She wanted to see you when you got home.”

Chris nodded. He wanted to see his girl too.

Chris opened the door of his brother’s room and padded inside, his sock-covered feet making little noise against the hardwood flooring. She lay curled under the red comforter and her face was softly striped by the setting sun that came through the blinds. Chris doubted he would ever see anything more beautiful if he lived to be a hundred. He settled slowly on the bed, reaching his hand out to her calf, clasping it gently. “Wake up, Rapunzel.”

“That’s not the right princess,” I mumbled, rolling over and away from the evil sunlight. Wait a fucking minute- “Chris?” I shot upright immediately only to see his stupid, grinning face a few feet from mine. My arms clenched around him of their own will and I hugged him as tight as I could. “I missed you so much,” I said and pushed my nose into the crook of his neck. His chest rumbled with the weight of his chuckle and Chris held me back just as tightly.

“I know. I know. I’m here.”

I grinned against his skin. “You’re never allowed to leave again.”

“Awww…not even for a business conference?”

“You did a lot more than confer about business,” I huffed, pulling away finally. “You left me. At least Matt didn’t leave me.” I turned away from Chris and completely forgot about my state of undress underneath the covers.

As they fell away, Chris’s hands slunk around my bare, warm waist, lighting a tingling fire in my abdomen. I was suddenly much more awake.

“You mad at me, mamas?” he purred, pressing kisses into my shoulder and neck, tracing lazy circles on my skin with his fingertips. “You upset that I wasn’t here for a week?”

“Ye-yes…” I sighed, wrapping my hands around his own, letting my sleep-mussed hair fall away and into my face. I leaned into his touch and rested my head on his collarbone as more and more of Matt’s bedding slipped off my body, leaving me bare in the golden setting sunlight.

“Look at you…” Chris whispered. His voice hollowed out with awe and he kissed your neck once more. “Look like Aphrodite, jus’ layin’ in my bed…”

“Chris!” I pushed him off with a giggle. “You’re not supposed to say that!”

He looked at me with large, wet eyes, giving me his best puppy-dog face. “Why notttt…”

“Because, silly,” I said, slipping out of the warm satin sheets, “Aphrodite doesn’t like it. I saw it in a TikTok.” I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Also, this isn't your bed.”

“I can’t express to you how much I don’t care.”

Turning back to him, I gave Chris my softest smile. “Come on. Now that you’re home we gotta eat.” I held out my hand and waited for him.

With a dubious expression, he took it. “You gonna put on some clothes?”

“Oh fuck, I probably should, huh?”

“I mean it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” came a smooth voice from the doorway. Matt stood in the doorway, grinning at my stark nakedness, and Chris snorted, his own mouth breaking into a smile as well.

“Damn, he caught us.”

“Shut up, both of you,” I sighed, glaring at the heap of my clothing on the floor. “I need a shirt and someone’s boxers, I’m not putting that shit back on again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Chris said, stepping easily up from his perch on the bed and opening Matt’s closet.

“Why are we having a party in my room right now?” Matt grumbled, opening his arms for me. I let my body weight shift onto him and his arms wrapped around my bare shoulders. We watched as Chris hunted for the shirt he knew I liked.

“Matt?”

“Mhm.” His breath tickled my ear and I twitched, giggling. “What is it, pretty girl,” he murmured.

“Just because I was excited to see Chris doesn’t mean I’m not also happy to see you.” I twisted up to look at him. “You know that, right?” Matt smiled, his eyelids low and relaxed. “Yeah. He was gone for a week and we spent all day together yesterday.” He hugged me tighter. “It’s okay. I missed him too.”

“Found it,” Chris said, tossing me a familiar white tee. “I’m not touching his underwear though.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Go check the food, I’ll get it.” Nodding, his brother stepped around us, trailing a hand over the small of my back as he left the room. I shivered. “Come on, sweetheart,” Matt said softly as he led me to the closet where a stack of drawers hid, “Which one of my boxers are you gonna steal tonight?”

“And…viola.” Chris set the steaming bowls in front of us, and I groaned with appreciation.

“You’re fucking wonderful, did you know that?”

He grinned. “I’ve been told once or twice.”

Matt nodded his head in thanks, taking his serving and almost inhaling it. I pulled the giant blanket aside so Chris could squeeze in, both boys now on either side of me on the couch in the boy’s living room. Just a few hours before I’d sat in this same spot, utterly miserable, and now I couldn’t be happier. Insanity.

“Okay, kid, what are we watchin’?” Chris reached over me to get the remote and I burrowed further into the back of the plush couch to get out of his way, giggling when he elbowed me further.

“You said Rapunzel earlier so now all I can think about is Tangled.”

“The Disney one?” Matt groaned. “I hate that one.”

Chris and I stared at him in total shock. “Fuck you mean, you ‘hate that one’?”

He grinned. “I’m fucking with you. We can watch whatever, I’m not gonna complain.”

“You complain about everything,” Chris grumbled, turning on the giant wall-mounted TV. Matt just shook his head with a smile and put his arm around the back of the couch.

Me personally? I ate my food in thankful silence and stayed out of it. Their brotherly kerfuffles belonged to them and them alone.

As Chris clicked through the TV, typing and searching and signing into things, I used the time to look at where I was. Here I sat on the boys’ couch, cuddled up between the two of them, eating delicious food with even better-tasting company. I snickered at my own thoughts.

Matt tilted his head, pulling his spoon from his teeth as he asked me what, exactly, was so funny. “Nothing,” I answered honestly, reaching behind me to pull his hand to my lips for the third time that day. “M just happy.”

Though I couldn’t see it, I felt Chris smile as he pressed play on our movie. He never made much of a show of being possessive or protective of me, not like Matt did, but I knew whole-heartedly how much he loved it when I affirmed my joy at being around him. Chris was always scared that he was too much, too loud, too crazy, that his ideas were too big for the hearts around him. But the sheer size of his personality created enough space for me to simply exist, and I’d be forever grateful to him for it–just being himself.

I ate my food quietly, relishing the softness of the blanket, the gentle heat from Chris’s body, and the welcome coolness of Matt’s, the visuals of Tangled, the darkness outside, the warm light from the kitchen, the cushion of the couch below me, all of it. This place felt more like home than any house I’d ever lived in before.

When we had all finished, Matt unwound himself from the heap of people and blankets he’d found himself in, gathered our dishes, and headed to the sink. I paused the TV and snuck my arm under Chris’s, holding onto him gently.

“Hey, ma.”

“Hi Chris.”

“You doin’ okay?”

“I’m doing great,” I said softly. “You smell good.”

“‘Preciate it, pretty girl. You’re not so bad yourself.”

I smacked him with a corner of the blanket. “Shut your mouth.”

He chuckled and took me in a headlock, letting me fall into his lap. I wiggled into his thighs and he grinned above me before leaning over with a growl and pretending to eat me alive.

“MATT,” I gasped, flinging my arm out Shakepearianly. “MATT, PLEASE, HE’S GOT ME.”

“Oh no,” he deadpanned, scrubbing the grease from a pot, unmoving from his spot at the sink. “What on earth will you do.”

“DIE, PROBABLY.”

Chris continued to lay waste to my body, caring naught for my pleas for mercy. “You’re mine!” he declared, cackling like a hyena. I burrowed underneath him and tried to squirm away from his evil hands, all to no avail as Chris tickled me ruthlessly.

“FUCK, CHRIS STOPSTOPSTOP, PLEASE-” I giggled incessantly and his eyes sparkled above me. Panting, Chris finally let me loose, and I scooted away from him with a glare full of mischief. “You dick.”

“Uh huh.”

“Never touch me again.”

“Uh huh.”

“I want a divorce,” I said with a smile, reaching out to smack his knee.

“That sucks dicks, doesn't it, mamas,” he snorted, taking my wrist gently and tugging me back towards him. “Come here, I wasn’t done touching you.”

I heard Matt chuckling in the kitchen, his voice vibrating warmly over the soft swishing of the water and tinny clinking of the dishes. Chris kept pulling me into his torso, his hair falling so attractively over his lowered lashes that I couldn't help but stare as I rested my head on his thigh.

“What, ma?” he asked me softly, his fingers sliding under my neck to pull all of my hair onto his lap.

“You’re so pretty,” I replied simply, lifting my head in compliance. Chris loved fiddling with people’s hair, and I was no exception. I used to ask him when I was stressed, but it became such a frequent occurrence that he often did it to calm himself down.

He smiled, a soft one, without a shred of performance. “Thank you. I think you’re so pretty.” Chris’s eyes shone blue, like they always did, and I had to look away, like I always did.

“You make me shy.”

“Why?” he asked. He'd moved on from playing with my hair to massaging my shoulders, and we shifted to accommodate each other. I laid my head against the front of his shoulder, that flat plane that connects the apex of the arm joint and the chest, and his knees now rose on either side of my body, closing me into his warmth.

“I like being able to sorta…slip in and out of people’s view, you know?” I began, picking over my words carefully. Chris’s hands kneaded into my skin and muscles while he made noises of agreement. “You don't ever let me do that.” I looked back up at him, twisting my neck. My nose brushed his jaw and Chris smiled. Another small one, but I cherished it almost more than his hugely expressive ones. “You always see me.” I paused. “I’m not sure if it makes sense, but-”

“Say it with your chest,” Matt murmured, not unkindly, appearing above us.

“Matty,” I giggled, reaching out for the hem of his shirt to pull him closer to us. He gave in with an easy grin and stepped closer, towering over me.

“Hey, baby girl.”

“Hi,” I said shyly.

Matt cocked his head as if to study me for a moment, and just as I looked to Chris for clarification, he himself was already fussing me off the couch. “Come on, sweetheart,” he drawled, “Go downstairs.” Chris’s room.

I looked back at Matt, who feigned innocence and gestured to the stairs - You heard the man, get goin’.

I reached out for Chris’s hand and followed him, almost tripping in my effort to keep up. “Easy…easy,” he mumbled, slowing for me as we thumped down the stairwell towards his open door. “Go get comfy.” We reached his bedroom and just outside of it, he stopped me, my body flattening to the wall as naturally as breathing. Chris dipped his forehead to mine, cupping my cheek in order to trail the pads of his fingers down my skin. “I know you had a bad day.” I nodded, covering his hand with mine. “Me ‘n Matt are gonna make it better. You wanna let us take care of you, mamas?”

I looked up and touched the tip of his nose with my own as my stomach dropped. “Yes, please.” My voice shook with anticipation.

Chris’s mouth quirked up on one side - almost a smirk. “There’s my girl.” He pulled away from me, nudging me towards his bed. “We’ll be back soon!” Chris bounded up the stairs, reminding me faintly of a certain tiger character from a beloved children's franchise. The thought dissipated as my core rumbled with butterflies and that wonderful sinking feeling you get when you're about to have your first kiss, like everything in your body is compressing down, waiting to explode out of you at just the right moment.

My fingertips dusted the edge of his desk as I walked into Chris’s room. I hadn’t since he’d been gone, and while a week isn't a long time…it sure did feel that way. Matt helped too, of course. At the thought of him, I smiled, a little bashfully even to myself, as I sat on the fan-cooled comforter. A simple blue, detailed only by the occasional stripe of threading. I shook my head at the memory of this particular purchase.

“Fuck you mean, I can't get navy sheets?”

“No she's right, navy sheets are the number one cause of syphilis in the United States.”

I barked a laugh before I could help myself, clapping a hand over my mouth. “Matthew!”

Matt looked quite proud of himself, the little shit, sitting in the driver's seat as we idled in the HomeGoods parking lot.

“What's syphilis?”

“Oh, Chris,” I sighed, leaning up from the backseat to rub his shoulder. “It's a miracle you haven't died a virgin. Let's get you some bedding, champ.”

“Call me champ one more time,” he said, turning slowly to the back, “I will break your spine.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “Promise?”

Matt choked on his root beer.

Suddenly chilled, I tucked my feet underneath me on the bed, shoving my hands in my lap while I waited for the boys to…oh right. ‘Take care’ of me. I grinned. I found a certain sort of deep satisfaction at being pampered by them, and to their credit, Matt and Chris were good. They each had their styles, of course, but I very much enjoyed the differences, and I enjoyed taking care of them right back. In my opinion , they deserved the entire world, and just as they gave to me without question, I gave right back.

If my ears could, they would have pricked at the sound of Chris near bouncing down the stairs. Giggling, I hid my smile behind tense knuckles as Matt and Chris walked into the bedroom, their figures now bathed in the fuzzy light of Chris’s LEDs.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Matt almost whispered, standing in front of me and tucking my head into his tummy. “How's my girl tonight?”

“Good,” I said into his shirt, my arms snaking around his waist. “But you let Chris attack me.”

“Oh did I?” he mused. I heard Chris making some sort of noise but I couldn't be bothered to focus on it at present.

“Yes. I could have perished before your eyes.”

“Perished is a very big word.”

“Thank you, Einstein. I would have never known without your help. You're so mean to me,” I grumbled, holding him tighter as he pet my hair.

“I know, baby,” Matt said, very much used to my antics by now. “What’d you call me the other day? ‘Wretched vagina’?”

I broke into a laugh and turned to let my cheek lay against him so I could breathe my way through the hilarity that was Matt mispronouncing ‘vagabond’. I told him as much and the smile he gave me in return showed his teeth. Even the pointed ones towards the back.

Chris finally appeared again, a box in hand. I tilted my head and looked at Matt, who shrugged unhelpfully. “What is that, bubba?”

He shuffled onto the bed, scooting up to the headboard and patting the space next to him, grinning all the while. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

“Oh Chris…” I breathed, thumbing the fabric over my palm. “It’s beautiful.”

Matt’s eyebrows shot up the moment I opened the box and there they sat for the next two minutes. “Is that pure silk?”

Chris nodded, incredibly pleased with himself. “Do you like it?” he asked, though I had a feeling he already knew my answer as I flung myself into his chest and my arms shot around his torso.

“Yesyesyesyesyesyes-”

Chris turned his head to his brother. “Damn. She hates it,” he deadpanned. I giggled in his chest and his hand slipped up to my shoulder blades.

Matt nodded. “Clearly, she’s distraught.”

“Uh huh. Listen, I know you’ve been wanting a new blindfold and I wanted something you could wear in your hair too, so it’s not just, you know…” he gestured to the three of us shyly, “...not just for sex, and us, you know, but you too.”

I shook my head, sitting up to look Chris in his beautiful, stupid, blue eyes. “Thank you, sweet boy.”

He didn’t reply, only smiled and kissed me. Soft and gentle against my skin, his lips felt warm, like they’d been waiting for me. Chris pulled me into him, one hand on my back, the other coming up to the nape of my neck, holding me steadily as he leaned over me and laid me down on the bed, kissing me all the while. Matt made a noise and I felt his hand slide over mine, grazing a bare patch of skin at my side that my shirt had ruffled up away from. I shivered, and Chris felt it.

“Cold, ma?”

“J-just a little,” I said.

With a wicked grin, he brought his lips to my ear and replied, “Let me warm you up then.”

Fucking finally.

Chris rolled to one side of me and I sensed Matt moving to the other, his hands on my waist, slipping up under my shirt, Chris’s still on my neck and cheeks, holding my face close to his.

“Chrissss…” I whined, my legs clenched together, “Please…”

Matt chuckled behind me, his breath drifting over my ear and raising goosebumps on my skin. “Come on, don’t tease our girl.”

Chris danced his fingers with featherlight touches down my chest and stomach, but before he could reach where I needed him, Matt’s hand split my legs apart and palmed me over my clothing. I squeeped from the shock, a high-pitched noise most akin to a mouse, and both boys laughed softly at my surprise.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as Matt somehow found my clit underneath the pair of his boxers I wore. He ran his fingers over it gently as if to wake her up. Chris still hadn’t moved on from my face, kissing my bottom lip reverently, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth, kissing my cheeks, chin, nose, eyebrows, anything he could.

Fuck.

My hips rocked against Matt’s hand and as I moved back I felt his hard-on pressing tightly into my asscheek. “Matt-” I began to say, but Chris’s mouth covered mine and he swallowed my keening pleas.

“What is it, baby,” he said softly, his lips moving over the curve of my ear, “What’s wronnnng…Let me an’ Chris take care of it.”

My eyes shot open and I looked at Chris, who moved up to kiss my forehead. “You had a long day, sweet girl. I don’t mind makin’ ya feel good. Use your big girl words and ask for what you want.”

I felt my stomach hollow out and my cheeks flushed red. “Chris…” I whimpered, hoping he would be merciful, “Please…”

“You heard him, darlin’,” Matt said, pulling his fingers away from my core and instead petting my cunt like she needed to be soothed. “Gotta make sure we give you exactly what you want.” The slight degradation of his actions coupled with the timbre of his voice, the sparks that held my spine in a chokehold, and the tingles that flowed through my body made the boys’ request impossible to deny. I’d have to find my voice one way or another, and it might as well be now.

Taking a deep breath, I rolled to my back so I could look between them. Blue eyes pierced me from each side, messy hair, same tilted smiles, but a world of difference lay underneath their skin, and for a brief moment, I couldn’t think - I wasn’t real. All that existed was this moment.

And then I realized that sounded very “teen-romance” of me, and I should probably say fucking something. “I-I want…”

“Mhm?” Chris nosed at my neck almost like an animal and I shivered.

“I want you-you guys t-to…”

“Yes?” Matt said, toying with the hem of his t-shirt that covered my stomach.

“Fuck I want you to take care of me.”

“Take care of you how?” Chris asked. He then took a patch of skin between his teeth and rolled it between his teeth, swiping his tongue over it.

“I want you to make me…”

“You’re so close, baby,” Matt murmured, lipping the edge of my ear. “You can do it. Tell me.”

My brain broke. “I want you to make me cum, both of you, fuck, please,” I uttered, almost a strangled cry, but it was enough.

They were on me in an instant. “Arms up, ma,” Chris said huskily, his voice thick with desire. He tugged Matt’s shirt up over my head, exposing all but my pussy to his soft, cool eyes. Chris loosed a breath as he looked my body over. “This?” he said, placing a kiss on my chest, “Will never get old.”

Matt pushed himself up and moved down the mattress, opening up my body to the cool air of the room, and I almost complained until I felt his hands, large and warm, guiding my thighs apart. His rings felt cold on my skin. I parted my lips to sigh but Chris appeared above me. He tilted his head and ran a finger up my sternum, over my neck, all the way to my chin, as if inspecting me. “You’re so…fucking perfect,” he said, like he couldn’t believe it. “I love taking care of you. I’m obsessed with you, mamas.”

“Chris, that’s so-”

Matt’s nose burrowed into my clit and he began to lick me through his boxers. I was already damp and he tongued at the fabric like he would die before he could taste me.

“Oh f-f-uck-k,” I stuttered. My hips rose of their own volition into his face while his fingers dug into my thighs. Matt groaned into my body and all I felt was pure bliss.

“Matt bein’ sweet to you, ma?” Chris asked, making the darkest of hickeys on my neck. The pain felt good - so good.

I whimpered my response, nodding erratically. My hands reached up for Chris’s back and I tugged at his shirt. “Off, off, take it off-”

He chuckled, and, shaking his head, rose up onto his knees and pulled his shirt away from his body, yanking the back of the neck over his head. It mussed his hair. I reached a hand out to touch his stomach. “You’re so beautiful,” I said softly, looking up at him like he was my god. In a way, he might have been. I believed in Chris more than I believed in myself.

Matt continued his ministrations at the apex of my thighs, still a layer between his lips and my increasingly dripping slit. “Matty, please,” I begged, “I need you.” I drug my fingers into his hair and ground myself on his nose, eliciting another moan from him.

“Fuck, babydoll, just like that.”

I whimpered again, a whine for him to do more, get closer, pull me into orgasm after orgasm.

Chris brushed a knuckle down my cheek and I smiled up at him. “You’re doing so good for us, pretty girl.”

I preened a little at his comment. I am just a girl after all, and vanity becomes me like a good pair of earrings.

“Lift up for me,” Matt said. He hooked his fingers underneath the boxers I wore and as I pushed myself up from the bed, Chris slipped an arm underneath me for support.

“I got you, ma,” he murmured, watching his brother pull away the last barrier between them and me. “Goddamn…”

Matt yanked them away and the fire in my belly roared. “Please, please, please…”

The boys shared a look. The hairs on my neck shot up. And without further preamble, they dove face-first into my cunt.

Matt got to my entrance first, lapping the juices that had begun to pool between my folds, whereas Chris, farther up the bed than his brother, paid special attention to my clit. I had no idea how they had enough room down there, but frankly that particular concern wasn’t at the forefront of my mind.

Chris left a glob of saliva on my nub and proceeded to rub it in with his fingers. I gasped and bucked, hitting his steady frame almost instantly. “Easy, ma,” he said, continuing his steady, delicious pace and looking up to meet my heady gaze, “I got you. You’re okay.”

A knot began to build in my tummy and I bit my lip. Matt kept laving his tongue over me, almost ravenously thrusting it into me, his knuckles white as they kept my thighs from clenching around the overwhelming pleasure. Chris watched every change of my features, rubbing the pads of his fingers until he hit the perfect spot. My mouth dropped open, my eyebrows furrowed high above my eyes, and I mewled up at him. He smiled, his eyelids heavy, moving back over my clit to find that nerve once more. “You like that, miss lady?”

“F-fuck, fuck, yes, yes, please Chris, more!” I was rambling. My words made no sense. I couldn’t think, could barely breathe, Matt’s tongue was performing miracles inside my body, his face was slick with my pleasure, Chris kept rubbing and rubbing and watching me and smirking at the effect he had on me with just two fingers and I couldn’t fucking take it anymore-

“Give it to me,” Matt groaned against my pussy. “I want it so bad, cum for me baby girl.”

“GodFUCK!” My orgasm came like a tsunami, washing over my body once, twice, again and again, waves going through me six times over before it finally subsided. Matt extracted himself very carefully from between my legs. His chin was dripping. Damn.

Chris took his hand away from my core and offered it to me. “Wanna suck?”

“Yeah,” I said shakily, and he helped me sit up, cradling the back of my head with his other hand while I cleaned my juices off of his fingers.

“Good girl.” Chris’s voice reverberated over my flushed shin. “So good for us.”

I looked down the bed at Matt, who wiped his lips with his vein-covered forearm. Releasing Chris’s fingers with a soft pop, I whispered, “Matty…c’mere.” I reached out a hand toward him and he took it, climbing up the mattress to sit on the other side of me.

“Hey,” he murmured. He stroked my head, cleaning up the stray hairs that stuck to my temples and forehead. “You taste incredible, may I just say.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “You may.” I wriggled away to look at them both better. “Thank you.”

Chris smiled and pulled me back, tucking me into his chest. “Anytime, ma.”

Matt pressed kisses into my shoulder. “You blush everywhere, baby.”

“I know,” I said, scowling at him.

Chris shifted behind me. I heard his voice, low and gravelly, in my ear. “Wanna go again?”

request to be on the taglist under this post right here, make sure your mentions are on!

tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @madisturn @mattspolitank @sturnsxplr-25 @xtravrgnoliveoil @raysmayhem-72 @sturnpooks @certifiedstarrr @melanch0lybby @freshloveforthefit @xoxo4chrisss @stunza @meerkatzthings @zivall @sturniolopepsi @that1fangirll @wh0schl0 @sharksworldd @mattscoquette @chrisslutx @sturnzsblog @sturniologals @quaxkingshs @certifiedstarrr @sarosfilms @mattsfavbigtitties @slutforsturniolos @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt @wurlibydominicfike @certifiedstarrr @daydays-things @trulyurss @flouvela @laxbabe131147 @inkyray @christophersslut @missmimii @mwahlilzsturnthepot

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anothermansjeans · 6 months ago

Note

How would you think the team would react to meeting singer!reader??

HEHE FIRST TIME MEETING THE REST OF THE TEAM!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY !

cw: reader meets the team :), spencer gets embarrassed, reader gets embarrassed, but it's all in good fun!! song mentioned at the end is picture you by chappell roan!

wc: 1.1k

singer!reader masterlist

Having a two week break during a tour usually meant resting as much as possible before starting back up. For you though, it meant spending as much time with your boyfriend as possible before you're on the other side of the country.

Staying with Spencer brought normalcy to your life. Paparazzi weren't down your back, people minded their own business, and it was easy to blend in– he brought the calm to the storm that is your life. Today, you were feeling that it was time to get out of the house, and the only motivation that could muster you up out of bed was to potentially visit Spencer.

Y/N: paperwork day??

His response was almost immediate.

Spencer: Yes. There’s not much left to do. I’ll probably be coming home earlier today.

Y/N: awesome!! :) have you had lunch? i can bring you something!

Spencer: I have not. You don't need to come all the way here, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.

You smiled while reading his messages. He was always considerate of your feelings.

Y/N: noooo, i want to, spence. i want to meet the rest of your team as well…?

It took him longer to reply to this one, and you were scared you crossed an unspoken boundary.

Spencer: They can be a bit much, but as long as you're comfortable I would love for you to meet them.

You smiled, immediately letting him know you'd be there within an hour. It was almost exactly an hour later when you were walking out of the elevator onto his floor, clad with a baseball cap and sweats, holding your joint lunch in one hand and your phone and sunglasses in the other. You could spot Spencer within seconds, and as you got closer to his desk, you heard who you presumed to be his coworker whistle to him.

“Oh, pretty boy, I think there's a special delivery for you…”

Spencer whipped his head up, seeing you lift the brown bag as you continued to walk towards him. He stood up when you got to his desk, and took the bag from your hands, placing it next to the stack of papers before engulfing you in his arms. You– being completely used to this behavior– let out a giggle when you heard a muttered “who is that guy and what has he done to Reid,” coming from a woman off to the side.

You let go after a minute, and turned towards the three people currently standing with you. “Hi, I’m Y/N!” You sweetly smiled at them as they gawked at you, and you felt Spencer’s hand sneak up to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

The built man in front you eyed the interaction immediately, and gave a grin as he extended his hand. “Derek Morgan. It's great to finally meet you.”

You shook his hand and turned towards the two women, “Emily,” she too put out her hand for you to shake.

“I’m JJ,” the blonde said as you shifted to look at her. A gasp was heard from across the room, causing everyone to swivel their heads towards the sound, and there stood Penelope.

“Y/N!”

“Penny!” The two of you met in the middle for a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Likewise, pumpkin.” The two of you giggled as the office doors above the bullpen opened up. The chatter below caused two men to make their way down with the rest of the group.

“Y/N, this is Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi,” Spencer said, moving back over to you and slyly placing his arm around your hip. Of course, he wasn't as sly as he intended because everyone on the team clocked the move.

“It’s nice to meet you,” the older man smiled.

“My son loves your music,” Aaron said, causing you to pale as you thought about the very explicit album you recently released, “the radio edits,” he added, noticing the relief flood your face.

You let out a breathy laugh and backed your body into Spencer's instantly melting into his body. “Right, well, I’m really glad I’ve met you all. Any time you want to hang out at a show just say the word. I’d be happy for you to come.”

They all hummed in appreciation, and Spencer gave you a squeeze, “do you want to have lunch?”

Looking back at him, you gave a nod, but before you could move an inch, Penelope spoke up. “Do you want to have lunch all together? The conference room is available and I don't think anyone has taken their lunch yet…”

Staring into Spencer’s eyes, you silently asked him if he was okay with it, and when he gave a subtle nod, you turned to Penelope with a smile. “We would love to! As long as that's okay with everyone?”

Everyone agreed, and you all sat around the round table getting to know each other as you dug into your lunch.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Spence, but I need to know what songs were specifically written about him.”

JJ’s question caused a blush to appear on Spencer’s cheeks and you stifled your laughter. “Um, well… the entire 'favorite’ album is about him.”

“Oh wow, an entire album?” Derek’s words were directed to Spencer, but instead of acknowledging him, he dug back into his sandwich.

A short laugh was released from your lips at the interaction. “Yes, a whole album. The uh, last five songs on my album ‘rebuilding’ are about him too.”

“And any singles?”

You lifted your eyebrows at the eagerness that came from Emily. “‘Espresso’, and 'Unconditionally’, but that one isn't officially out yet for streaming.”

“Wait, go back,” Penelope paused the conversation, “you said the last five songs… so ‘Picture You’ is definitely about Spencer?”

Now you and Spencer were both blushing. Clearing your throat, you looked everywhere but at the people around the table. “I mean… I like for my listeners to think about whoever they want… given the context of the song…” Spencer’s hand went to your knee, inching his hand towards your thigh and rubbing it gently, letting you know you're both in the same boat.

“But you…” Emily started, a small smile creeping onto her face, “thought about… Spencer.”

“Mhmm.” And that was all she was going to say on the matter.

“My man!” Beside Spencer, Derek clasped him on the shoulder and gave him a shake, everyone around you snickering.

As embarrassed as you were, you knew these types of conversations were bound to happen when meeting the people closest to Spencer, so in the end, as long as you had him, it didn't matter how embarrassed you were. For Spencer, it was the same. He understood your world the best to his ability, and he knew you showed your feelings best through your music. So what if he had to deal with a little bullying from his team?

singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr spencer reid x reader #singer!reader #criminal minds

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cheralith · 9 months ago

Text

to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part iii) 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, unedited/not beta read as of 2/24

word count ; 8.5k

notes ; we're so back. am i severely late to posting this? very. did i at least get it done after too many months? also yes. i also apologize in advance to those i tagged that are no longer interested in the series, as i merely tagged people that had commented regardless of time. lmk if you no longer want to be tagged in the last part, i promise i won't take offense at all!

parts ; one two three four (tba)

THREE YEARS AGO

“My name is (Y/N) (L/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. O’Hara. Please let me assist you at any need possible.”

Miguel peered at you through his reading glasses, averting his attention from his laptop to fully examine the stranger that stood in his office. Dark hazelnut eyes scan the appearance of a young woman dressed in black slacks and an ironed white blouse standing stiffly next to his superiors that eyed him with more eagerness than he liked. He could already tell that you were a shy one, a person that wasn’t too accustomed to the outside world and its people; you stood with stiff posture; it was one that exemplified nerve rather than confidence from the way that you almost seem paralyzed in your place.

Caldworth, one of the superiors that stood by your side, placed a wrinkly and veiny hand on your shoulder and showed you off to him as if you were a painting up for bidding. “We choose a sharp one for you. (Y/N) here is rather attentive, so don’t be shy about letting her get to know you better, Miguel.”

Miguel stayed quiet, still skeptical about this sudden new arrangement for him that was brought up at the last minute. He lacked a certain sort of anticipation that would usually behold anyone else in his position—a new person entering their work life would usually be an exciting, rousing meeting seeing as how it would be a new addition to what the higher-ups would refer to as “family.” A loose term, Miguel often thought… very loose, even. To even have the courage to compare coworkers to something as intimate as family was something that didn’t sit well with Miguel. Blame it on the certain circumstances on his own familial life, but even anyone else that had their brain in the somewhat of the right spot would understand that mere coworkers were nothing compared to family.

At least in his case.

“I’ve greatly admired your work in the past,” you said almost robotically, “so I hope I can be of any help in your future accomplishments—no matter how big or small.”

Miguel cocked his head. He fought the urge to raise an eyebrow at what he began to concur was something scripted via his superiors. Something about your tone of voice seemed… flat; devoid of any actual enthusiasm.

Caldworth and his partner began to see themselves out, leaving him to babysit you. “Well, you two have at it! Maybe go out for a cup of coffee to familiarize yourselves, get to know each other better since you both are essentially going to be around each other all the time,” Caldworth stated, making Miguel twitch from the last part.

Just before they left, Caldworth offered the glint of his eye over his shoulder, the peek of a tight-lipped grin ever so slightly visible.

“And don’t forget, we’re all family here!” he cheered before the slam of a door shut you and Miguel in.

Immediately, Miugel noticed that your shoulders caved inward, indicating that you were finally able to breathe properly without the surveillance of people that were essentially in charge of your life. He eyed you again from the top of his glasses before he took them off and rested them in between his fingers, letting them dangle lazily.

“Did they tell you to say that?”

You jolted in your spot. Nerves seemingly reshocked with the same anxiety from before, you turned yourself to face your new boss again with a much more paled, yet evident expression—wide-eyed, pursed-lipped, gritted jaw—and swallowed thickly. Almost in a shameful manner, you silently nodded your head.

“W-was…” you started, “was it that obvious?”

“Somewhat,” Miguel murmured simply and closed his laptop. “Don’t listen to what they say, just make yourself as comfortable as possible. I’m sure neither of us want to be that comfortable with each other.”

Your lips pressed themselves into a tight line, hitching a sharp breath before it’s replaced with another stiff nod. There was no user’s manual of sorts that was given to you by your superiors. They merely told you to do exactly what Miguel needed, so if this is what he wanted—for you two to maintain distance—then so be it. If anything, it’s easier to breathe this way for both parties.

And it was like that for a rather long time; the both of you never came too close to the other person. It was strictly a professional workplace relationship, one that didn’t issue any room for intimacy because it wasn’t needed. There were no lunch or dinner get-togethers outside work hours, there was barely any small talk between you both, and you and he didn’t even bother getting each others’ personal numbers despite being consistently around the other like air—both parties thought the work phones were more than enough. There was no need for you to learn about his likes, his dislikes, his favorite foods, and Miguel couldn’t certainly be bothered with your own slices of life. To each their own, if you minded your business about him, he’d do the same to you.

It was a fair trade and a sufficient barter that satisfied you and him; there need not be any excess of the unnecessary.

That was, until a certain day that Miguel was held back during his usual hours to continue working on lab reports—work that didn’t allow him freedom from this hell of a company to see his own salvation.

“If it’s an urgent matter, Mr. O’Hara, I don’t mind taking on some of the workload,” you had said softly as you placed the last stack of packets on his desk that needed proper annotation. “I’m your assistant, after all. It’s my job to help you out.”

Miguel rubbed his forehead out of exhaustion and shook his head, “You’re my assistant from 9 to 5 only. I’m not gonna be like those shocking pricks and work you longer than needed,” he muttered and stretched out his neck, joints crackling. “Go clock out, (Y/N). I’m sure there’s someone waiting for you at home that needs attending to.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere had gone awkwardly quiet. The tension was only broken by the scritching of your shuffling feet before you coughed.

“Um, there’s no one in particular like that for me, unfortunately,” you whispered through a forced laugh that quickly dissolved. “So again, I don’t mind staying late…”

Miguel stiffened in his seat and mumbled an apology for his blatant inconsideration. Right… you were still rather young and didn’t seem the type to have a family yet. “No boyfriend? Or girlfriend… I’m not one to judge.”

“No, Mr. O’Hara.”

“No parents?”

“I moved out, so no.”

“Not even pets?”

“None.”

“... perhaps friends of sorts?”

“...”

Another sigh heaves itself from his aching lungs. What he’d do for a cigarette right now to kill this awkward tension. You were a rather shy person that isolated herself from most people, but Miguel didn’t think you’d detach yourself this much from the crowd.

You proposed your assistance once more, as third times always a charm. “Please let me assist you, Mr. O’Hara. I truly do not mind staying overtime if needed.”

Miguel, at first, thought you might be kissing his ass for a possible raise, but the thought quickly disappears when you genuinely appear concerned for his well-being given the fact he looked ultimately much more disgruntled than usual. Despite your timidity, you could be a stubborn one, so Miguel gave in before he tired himself even more with mild arguments that he was sure would drain whatever life he had left in him.

He inhales sharply and fiddles with his bag for a bit before he pulls out an array of keys, gently detaching a pair of them. One of them is his car key. The other—his house key.

“Take these,” he said and gestured them to you. “I’ve trusted you enough to drive my car on multiple occasions, so now I’m entrusting you to my daughter.”

Your eyes widened briefly, brows raising to new heights. Blinking in the alikeness of an owl, you repeated, “Your… your daughter?”

Miguel supposes this is what succumbs to him after not revealing even the most personal, yet basic parts of himself to a coworker. He hasn’t even revealed his birthday to you, let alone his family, so he can’t say he’s too surprised at your reaction.

“Yes, my daughter,” he repeats and starts scribbling on a post-it. “Her name is Gabriella, she just turned five and is in kindergarten. I’m gonna call up the daycare and tell them that you’ll be picking her up from school. After that, drop her off at the house and just… just kind of stay there until I come home. There should be leftovers in the fridge if she gets hungry. I’ll take a cab home… I dunno.”

Miguel sticks out the post-it note containing both the address of the daycare and his apartment number. With caution, you take and examine them closely with a mild surprise still on your face of the new information about your boss that you thought you should’ve learned a while ago. You begin to see yourself out of his office with an evident nervousness in your being before Miguel spontaneously gets up and grabs your wrist tightly, forcing you to look at him.

A chill goes down your spine when you see a menacing and unusual red glint in those pools of mahogany. His once-drained face is suddenly stony and rugged with his teeth bitten back to avoid any unnecessary threats. The physical contact makes your nerves go cold and paralyzes you into place to force you to stare into those eyes that you’re not sure aren’t even human, a sort of malicious crimson tint gleaming over brown hues.

“Do not… let anything happen to her,” he hisses under his breath, his tone jaggedly sharp, “Not a single scratch, yes?”

It takes a while for air to breathe itself back into your lungs, yet only a partial amount of it revives your body because all you can reply is a choked out,

“Yes.”

Miguel lets go of your wrist like it’s a heated iron rod, the burn of it stinging his hand with the aftertaste of your skin still damped on his palm. You quickly leave after that, leaving him to sigh and stare into nothing before clutching the picture frame of his daughter that sits on his desk—praying that you’ll live up to his expectations and arrive home to an unscathed Gabriella.

And throughout the duration of the three years you and Miguel have spent side by side, with each repeated question he’d contritely ask again and again, he did each and every single time you had to take care of her. The hours became longer, more strenuous, and created a blockage between Miguel and Gabriella that only you were able to bridge between. Gabriella—whose particular shyness reminded Miguel of a certain someone—eventually warmed up to you and began to treat you much more familiarly as time passed, growing accustomed to wrapping her body around your legs when she saw you during pick up and always asking what was for dinner that evening as if you’ve been there since her birth.

Gabriella grew very fond of you, Miguel noticed. There was some sort of mimicry in her actions at times that mirrored your own habits like how she’d tilt her head and purse her lips to the left when she was confused like you did or she’d randomly walk briskly in the same fashion you marched. She’d slip in a mention of your name during small discussions here and there, a praise never failing to tail her words.

“Miss. (Y/N) bought this headband for me! Isn’t it pretty?”

“Oh, Miss. (Y/N) taught me how to solve that problem yesterday.”

“Can you make cookies like how Miss. (Y/N) does? Yours taste weird.”

While you weren’t always present around the O’Haras, Gabriella made sure it seemed like you were.

There was a particular time that Miguel was helping her on some homework assigned over the weekend. The assignment had discussed different careers that children might be interested in the future and when Miguel had asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, Gabriella, who couldn’t have been more than six or seven around the time, replied all too simply,

“I want to be like Miss. (Y/N).”

Miguel was astonished. He had expected an answer like a professional soccer player due to her love of the sport or a scientist like her father, but to aspire to be someone that seemingly was just an occasional companion? To him, it didn’t make sense.

“Like, do you wanna work for Daddy when you’re older?” Miguel asked, attempting to clarify what she meant since she knew enough to understand you were associated with her father.

Gabriella shook her head and mindlessly continued to draw what seemed to be a portrait of you in… a pink dress? “Nuh uh. I wanna be a princess like her.”

Through furrowed brows, Miguel chuckled a little aimlessly. Of course she’d still believe fantasy and magical things—she was just seven after all. Initially, he wanted to merely correct his daughter, but was a little curious as to what sort of silly information you had been feeding her. “Miss. (Y/N) is a princess?”

“Yep, she told me herself!” Gabriella exclaimed, her hand fisting a yellow marker that scribbled on a crown on the drawing. “She said she used to be a princess, but she ran away ‘cause a giant, fire-breathing lizard tried to kidnap her!”

“I think it might’ve been a dragon, mijita,” Miguel corrected gently, trying to go along with the usual trope fairy tales portrayed.

“Nuh uh, it was a big and creepy lizard, she said!” she retaliated stubbornly.

“Well,” he started again, attempting to choose his words a little more carefully this time around. “How come you don’t wanna be like Ariel? Or Tiana? They’re princesses, too, right?”

She shrugged. “I like them. But they’re not Miss. (Y/N).”

Something unnatural began to seep into Miguel’s chest. He knew that Gabriella liked you quite so, but he didn’t expect for her to almost admire you in such a fashion that inspired her to be like you. In his eyes, you were nothing but the assistant that loyally stood by his side and abided by his every word—to him, it seemed like you were more of a butler or servant than a princess.

But in his daughter’s eyes…

“Why? What’s so special about (Y/N)?” Miguel inquired with a growing curiosity to try and see you in the same light as Gabriella.

She shook her head, displeased with the informality given to you by her father. “You gotta say Princess (Y/N). I don’t have to ‘cause she said it’s okay.”

He sighed, “Okay, fine. What’s so special about Princess (Y/N)?”

Gabriella set her marker down carefully and thought for a little while. Her eyes suddenly lit up with delight, an affirmative grin set on her lips.

“Well, she’s really pretty… like reallyyy pretty. I wanna be just as beautiful as her one day,” she praised, making Miguel’s brows rise at the sudden compliment. “She’s really nice, too. She never shouts at me like the teachers or coaches do… and she always lets me have extra dessert when I do a good job on my homework.”

Miguel fell silent. Perhaps it was more than mere admiration, but idolization for Gabriella. She viewed you in a way that Miguel hadn’t even thought of because he only viewed you as his coworker. But in Gabriella’s eyes, you were more than just her babysitter—you were literal royalty to her. He shouldn’t be one to complain though—he’d take his daughter following in your footsteps over some others that might lead her astray. You were… sufficient enough, he supposes, even if Gabriella didn’t think so.

“She’s super smart too—like you, Papá! Maybe even smarter,” she retorts, making Miguel twitch. “And I like her voice a lot. I really like it when she reads me a story because her voice is pretty. Sometimes she sings this song to me to help me sleep.”

“Oh?” Miguel questioned, “¿Y, qué canción es esa?”

“I keep forgetting the name and words of it…” Gabriella pouted after a moment of attempted concentration. “But it went somethin’ like…”

She began humming an off-tune melody that struck a dissonant, yet familiar chord within Miguel, but it was impossible for him to find why it was so eerily familiar to him. Was it perhaps from an old song? Or a film he’d seen before? It was a calming song, one that was perfectly suited for a child’s lullaby, but something about it seemed almost so customary to him.

“Ya gotta marry her,” his daughter said plainly and began to resume her artistry, ignoring the sudden startle she gave her father. “So that way, I can become a princess, too.”

Miguel helped himself to the nearby cup of water to soothe his choked throat after the scare she gave him. “Sweetheart, I’m not a prince, though.”

“Yeah, I know,” his daughter replied without missing a beat. “But you know what you are, though?”

Dare he say that Gabriella had grown akin to you the same way she had with her father. Something about her praise and regard for you seemed to mirror the way that reflected alike to her father, yet Miguel couldn’t tell if she had managed to draw a line between the images of you and him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Gabriella could even define a difference in her adulation between you and him besides the fact one was her parent.

But when the thought of Gabriella potentially viewing you as sharing the same title as him—a parent—something seeds inside Miguel. He doesn’t know what it is or what it will grow into, but there’s one thing he knows for sure.

The seed of you in his life and hers is here to stay, whether he likes it or not.

Gabriella’s smile grew wide before she happily announced,

“You’re her knight in shining armor!"

PRESENT

If he squinted properly and took a closer look, perhaps Miguel could make himself hallucinate enough to try and visualize the golden chandelier above your head as your haloing tiara. It was the main light source nearly the entirety of the venue, but something about the way the light glistened around you made you seem almost holy, like you were a divinity gracing your presence on the wretchedness they called Earth.

Blame it on the wine, but Miguel couldn’t help but notice that you looked more celestial tonight; a unique sort of ethereal that he’s only seen in the finest of paintings. The banquet hall is covered in layers of silkened gold, only emphasizing your best features in the spotlights of reflecting amber.

You’re talking idly (per usual, unfortunately) with a coworker from Human Resources that he’s seen you often have mild conversations with on the weekly, a rare familiarity that he only knows he’s been graced with in full; so it’s truly no surprise that there’s a placid stir of envy growing within Miguel as you’ve decided to not give your semi-cold shoulder a break even tonight, even with the rarity of a compliment given by him. At least there’s been somewhat of an improvement—you’re actually holding miniscule conversations with him every now and then as you both chatter with the crowd as long as there’s a third party.

Yet he still hasn’t been granted mercy of having a proper one-on-one with you, yet.

But beggars can’t be choosers, so Miguel must make do with what he’s offered.

The coworker, finally, is called by one of his project managers and politely excuses himself, leaving you to Miguel’s devices at long last. Like a flower’s petals given little to no care, your smiling face wilts into the solemn countenance that Miguel has grown accustomed to seeing for the past week when you turn your gaze back towards the table, a sliver of Miguel caught in the corner of your eye. In time, he just barely catches a glimpse of your eyes flickering toward his figure before they return to stare at the nearly empty plate of food with a slight dismal.

A choice of what words to say jumble in his mouth. They toss and jump about while not giving him full comprehension of what they mean and Miguel grows frustrated at his lack of intelligibleness because it wasn’t every day that his resolve could be so cowardly in front of someone. Usually he was the one that made egos shrink, but upon your grace, his own could only grow so small.

You can tell there’s an awkward silence amongst you both despite the audible chatter throughout the banquet hall and the idle conversations among your tablemates, so you break it first but stiffly shuffling out your phone and dialing Gabriella’s babysitter for tonight—a blue moon occasion since neither you nor Miguel could be present. Gabriel is out of town and because there were only so many people in the world that Miguel could trust with his beloved, the elderly next-door-neighbor was the last resort.

“I should probably check up on how Mrs. Darcie is doing,” you splutter with a dry mouth. “I forgot to teach her how the TV remote works and I’m sure she must be bored out of her—”

Unconsciously, Miguel gently pries the phone out of your shaking hands, the connection between skin and skin electrifying his nerves more than he liked. He takes notice of the size difference between your hand and his own and eyes carefully at how easily your fingers would be able to slip into the gaps of his all too easily; like two connecting puzzle pieces.

He places it face down on the table to avoid further distractions. “I’m sure Mrs. Darcie is alright,” he attempts to soothe as he places his hand over your own, nearly caging it between his fingers. Miguel struggles with fighting the urge to squeeze it delicately—he doesn’t know if he’s earned that privilege, or if he ever did. “Gabi is most likely preparing for bed, we shouldn’t distract her.”

Eyes flickering toward your covered hand, the warmth that envelopes it from Miguel’s makes you swallow thickly.

“Ah,” you murmur and timidly pull back your hand to place back on your lap to Miguel’s disappointment. “Right… Never mind then.”

And suddenly, he’s back to square one. Silence plagues the air again between you and him, only this time, it’s thicker and grimier almost. Perhaps it was the oddity that was the physical contact that added to the musk of it; Miguel prays that you didn’t find it uncomfortable.

A fork is plucked between your fingers and you go to idly poke at your food to fidget with something other than your hands. “I hope she’s okay. Gabi, I mean. I-It feels a little odd leaving her with someone other than you.

Rays of hope and enthrallment embellish Miguel’s being from the fact that finally… finally you’re the one attempting a conversation with him after much too long. And not only that, you’re beginning with something bold, even if you don’t realize it. Despite the fact you’re rather unconscious of what you’re saying, something within Miguel perks up at the fact that you’re worried about Gabriella in the same sense… that he is.

That a parent is.

He fights the urge to physically shake his head to brush the thought off. Miguel hums, a semi-sorry attempt at being suede and casual. “Mrs. Darcie has had eight children in her lifetime, I’m sure that she’s definitely had her experience of taking care of kids,” he says seemingly nonchalantly. “Gabi, if anything, is lightwork to her.”

A soft delight pings in his chest again when you reply almost instantaneously, “She is indeed a good girl, very well-behaved.”

“She has her moments,” Miguel snorts, fondly remembering a few of younger Gabriella’s temper tantrums and outbursts of tears.

Something golden, something bright blossoms within him when he hears you let out a soft chuckle at his reply. It’s abrupt, but it’s short and sweet enough that he feels accomplished, enough for him to savor the taste of it. “All children do from time to time. But she’s definitely one of the better apples of the bunch.”

Miguel thinks you’re right; it wasn’t often that parents, new ones especially, were granted with the privilege of having obedient children, so he’s one of the lucky ones. Perhaps Gabriella being a good kid was the universe giving him mercy as a single parent, as society often thinks it takes two to tango when it comes to childcare most of the time.

But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Even if Miguel wasn’t aware of it, some of the responsibility was lifted off his shoulders when you entered the picture, as the duties of nurturing a young child were now in your favor the moment you had signed your work contract. For that, he harbors guilt from time to time when he thinks that you never exactly signed up to be a babysitter, let alone a parent figure to his kin that you were still unaware of.

And then it hits him.

It comes all of a sudden—his senses downpouring from the cloud of his daydreams and thoughts.

It’s not a good realization by far. If anything, it’s the very opposite, one that’s one the other end of the spectrum. It’s a deathly epiphany and one that he doesn’t like to acknowledge but is forced to.

Miguel stares blankly at the tablecloth, eyes droning into the satin folds of it as they mimicked the waves of a crashing ocean. A sort of paleness infects his face, the color of it draining slowly and he goes still when he feels his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

You’re quick to take notice of your boss’s current disposition, growing wary of his wide, blank eyes and gritted jaw, along with his knuckles growing white as they fist his slacks. A shallow breath is echoed from him; you furrow your brows.

“Mr. O’Hara?” you murmur, leaning toward his figure.

Miguel’s mind stirs. If Gabriella views you as a parent-figure, what exactly would you think of it? You’re not much younger than Miguel is, only falling behind a mere four or five years, but you’re still significantly young that you’ve got your whole life ahead of you that you’d need to experience by yourself. The remnants of youth are still planted onto you despite being well-adjusted to the adult world, so to put the responsibility of a child on your shoulders? Miguel feels contrition flood into him.

What if you didn’t even want children?

It’s a fact that you care for Gabriella, but do you harbor the same type of love for her that she has for you? Does she even understand what your role is in her life and that there’s a strict boundary between you and Miguel and Gabriella? He knows he can’t just shackle you onto a weighing responsibility, but when Gabriella is a part of this dilemma, the complication increases tenfold.

Your boss seems to be frozen in time, seeing as how not a muscle in his limbs nor his face were moving, but his eyes were wide open, almost glazed with fear. A feathery hand goes to place itself over his tightened fist before you ask again, “Mr. O’Hara, are you okay?”

The worst case scenario infects Miguel’s thoughts—you standing in the same shadow of his ex, exiting through the same door she had walked through just a few days after his daughter’s birth and breaking his entire being into little pathetic pieces.

This time, however? He wouldn’t be the only one with a shattered heart.

A thick swallow goes down your throat. You gently shake his hand with your own to attempt to break him out of his frigid state, a worry beginning to settle itself in your stomach. “Mr. O’Hara? Can you hear me?” you declare a little louder than the first two times.

Your voice makes him blink and he clears his throat, feeling his cheeks warm at the sudden loss of composure. “Yes, I-I’m fine…” he mutters as he tugs at the tight collar of his dress shirt.

You nod with visible skepticism. Miguel turns away from your gaze to avoid further questioning, since he knows you’ve been at his side long enough to know his behaviors. “Are you sure?”

He nods and stifles a sigh, nodding. The flurry of what had just occurred in his mind lingers almost painfully and it takes him a while to remember where he is and why. Right… the annual celebration gala… with you… to make up for the date that never happened.

His mind is a mess. It’s an incoherent tornado of everything and anything, with images of all kinds flashing throughout his mind—young Gabriella’s drawing of you and her as princesses that she insisted on framing, your face of disappointment that you gave him when he ditched out on the date, a flashback of his ex slamming his old apartment door on him as an infant Gabriella screamed and wailed in her crib, you hugging his daughter after her winning goal, Miguel’s frazzled self as he showed up too late to his daughter’s first Parents Day with a teary-eyed Gabriella, him finding you quietly reading a sleepy Gabi a bedtime story after a long shift at work, you making baked goods in the kitchen with her.. you tucking in her into bed… you suddenly with a suitcase in hand, a sobbing Gabriella in the back as Miguel begged you to stay before you slammed the door behind you and leaving them—

Miguel stands up abruptly, making you jump. The collar and tie around his neck suddenly seem too tight and his throat runs dry. The air grows hotter and his vision starts to blur.

“Mr. O’Hara,” you start as you also stand up, “Is everything alr—”

“I need some air,” Miguel barely chokes out before he leaves the banquet hall without another word. He can just barely hear you ask if there’s anything you could do before he turns a sharp right and leaves the entirety of the building altogether, choosing to remain in the back garden to breathe in fresh oxygen, a relieving chill to the air.

A hand goes to loosen his collar and tie and he can feel himself gain consciousness again. The sky is draped with an ink blue all over, speckles of the night stars scattering all around. The floral smell of many garden flowers fills his senses and Miguel grounds himself properly before he settles himself on a stone bench to balance in his mind.

He attempts to reason with himself.

Clearly, you don’t mind being with children, and obviously you don’t mind being with and taking care of Gabriella. She’s not simply a job to you that you’re forced to work with—you’ve said it yourself. Otherwise, you wouldn’t go to her games nor would you remember to bring her small gifts of her liking. You’ve done things for her out of your own initiative many times. Gabriella is your world, Miguel thinks, as much as your hers.

Now there’s the problem of you being with Miguel, if your feelings haven’t changed all too much. In all honesty, Miguel thinks if he’s with the right person, he’s sure to put in effort into stabilizing and nurturing a proper relationship. He hadn’t had the time to go around and look for love because of work and Gabriella, so serving as this sanctuary that came to him was basically a perfect fit into his life—don’t mind it took him three years to notice it. You’re worth putting that effort in.

Finally… there’s the possible chance that you reject Miguel’s proposal of being Gabriella’s secondary caretaker.

…

Miguel attempts to process it in a more… positive light. One that won’t send him spiraling.

But it’s nearly impossible.

How is it possible to settle a middle ground of happiness, or at the very least… satisfaction, between you and him and Gabriella? How do you imagine a happy ending to a dawning of Gabriella’s happiness? How can Miguel ever face you after asking such a thing?

His vision shakes again, another hurricane of impossible questions begins whirling in mind. The bile in his stomach churns uncomfortably and his hands grow clammy again. His feet feel like they’re sinking in the dirt. Somehow, even at a staggering height compared to most of his colleagues, Miguel feels small once more.

Would he be able to cope with such a—

A loud crash and multiple screams suddenly break Miguel out of his state and he whirls his head to see what was happening inside. The peek of something green slithers inside the massive hole in the glass ceiling indented in the building, and it doesn’t take Miguel long to know what’s happening.

He sprints back inside the building and into the banquet hall, the opposite way where everyone is headed and takes a swift peek inside to what was happening.

A horrifically large green lizard crawls on the floor, letting out an agonizing roar of sorts with its tail swishing about and knocking everything and everyone in its path over. Dr. Curtis Connors, the one foe Miguel had fought a few months ago and had just managed to escape his grasp, had come back for revenge in a newer, more improved, more terrifying form of his initial self-experiment. News of his identity had leaked out immediately the moment that he had defeated the mad doctor, and every work that was researched by him that was deemed irrelevant by Alchemax was unpublished and/or destroyed—that included raiding everything in his personal lab—an urgent executive order made by Tyler Stone himself.

Hungry for revenge for the destruction of his work, Miguel was certain he was back for revenge as back when he was still sane, the amount of research that Dr. Connors had put in was extensive and yielded long years in the making, spanning over nearly three decades of research that was wiped away in the matter of a single day thanks to Alchemax.

Miguel quickly turns a corner, hidden from the public eye, and commands his suit on before quickly re-entering the banquet hall. He swings up towards the domed ceiling and carefully analyzes the area.

There’s still a few people scattering from the room, shrieks echoing from the walls. His eyes go to search for where you are in desperation, praying you’re safe somewhere outside, but a flash of light pink catches the corner of his eye. He nearly snaps his neck when he finds you running in the opposite direction of where most people are headed—towards the garden.

“(Y/N)!” Miguel yells out without thinking and slaps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, you don’t hear him due to the commotion inside the area as you swim against the current of people. You fight the urge to fall down with every person that bumps into you amidst the chaos before you thankfully make it near the exit.

He lunges down from his spot on the ceiling, lassoing a few people that nearly get crushed under Lizard’s humongous tail and bringing them to safety properly on the way, making his way towards your figure. Rubble from the many columns begin to collapse on themselves; clouds of dust and debris fog the first floor of the hall with the wreckage already trapping some people inside.

A large chunk from the wall creaks and begins to teeter over the south exit, where you’re headed. A certain distraction diverts you from noticing the large cement framework around the exit that’s about to topple on you to Miguel’s horror. In the nick of time, he just barely manages to snatch you by the waist from a thrusted sprint just before the framework collapses with a thunderous boom.

You and Miguel cough from the dust it created. It takes a good second for you to process what your fate might’ve become, and it takes just another second for you to regain your consciousness. A good part of the exit is now blocked, but that doesn’t stop you from taking off your heels and attempting to climb over it.

Miguel barks out and grabs your arm that’s now scathed with slight scratches. “The hell are you doing?!” he exclaims worriedly.

You turn back with a teary and troubled look on your face, much to his shock. Abruptly, you turn back towards the exit and attempt to tug back your arm from his firm grasp. “M-my boss… he’s inside the garden,” you croak miserably out as you try to pull yourself over the fallen column. “I need t-to know if he’s safe…”

Lizard lets out another mighty howl and patters toward the stage, his tail once again swinging haughtily and ignoring anything in its path. Miguel shouts at you to duck and pulls you down along with him. You prop back up and without his arm on yours, you use it to your advantage and grunt yourself forward onto the column.

Miguel wraps a large hand over your ankle and weighs you down from moving any further. “Hey, you need to get out, now. You can’t be here, no one should be,” he urges.

The shake of your head concerns him—right, you’re too stubborn for your own good. “I’ll be fine. P-please, just leave me be.”

“Not when you’re about to get killed,” he declares and juts your ankle more towards him. The motion makes you fall into his chest and Miguel uses one hand to properly secure you to himself, the other launching and swinging a web to the north entrance.

You squirm and fight against him, pleading desperately for him to drop you and leave you alone. A frame of tears threatens to fall from your eyes from frustration and despair when you get put down. Miguel has to physically stop you from running back into the banquet hall once again—you put up a fight though. You thrash against him, clawing and weakly punching at his stronger arms, imploring for him to let you back inside.

“You don’t understand—” you gasp as the remnants of the people inside flood out. Looking over his shoulder, you gaze at the exit solemnly. “Please… I need to know if he’s alright—he h-has a young daughter back at home and if anything happens t-to him—just please let me go!” you wail.

He grabs you by the shoulders forcefully and settles you down, the stream of tears falling from your eyes running his throat dry once again. Miguel has never seen you cry, or even come close to crying. Not when Gabriella forced you to watch what she considered “one of the saddest movies in existence”, not when an entire glass beaker had toppled and its shards pierced your skin, not even when Miguel had first scolded you about your many mistakes on the very first document you turned into him.

Glassy eyes meet concerned, masked ones. Your lip trembled violently, the words all jumbled in your mouth about to spill. “Just let me check if he’s alright,” you just barely whisper.

He bores his gaze into yours as his composure does its best to upkeep him as best as possible. Miguel, from the inside of his mask, bites his lip and sighs. “I promise you, I’ll make sure Miguel gets home safely.”

“What if you don’t?” you accuse with furrowed brows.

“I’ll bring him home safe and sound,” he says firmly. “You said he has a daughter, right? I won’t let her become an orphan. I swear on my life I won’t.”

Your gaze doesn’t falter, even when Miguel attempts to soothe you by chafing the chilled skin of your arms up and down in a calming manner. Unbeknownst to you, you and him share an image of Gabriella in your minds; it brings a sting of ache to your chests.

“How can I trust you?” you ask dryly.

“Because,” he goes to weave a string of webbing through the north entrance and takes you out into the safety of the outside. He settles you on the corner of two intersecting streets that sit nearby the building, with your tears still falling and hands trembling. A hand carefully holds your cheek and wipes away descending tears on your chalky face, Miguel ignoring the squeeze of his heart with each one that puddles on the sidewalk.

“... I’m your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

Spider-Man leaves you on the sidewalk idly with the blurry figures of your co-workers and other people in the company whizzing by you with no concern for anyone else other than themselves. It takes a moment for you to understand what just happened and with whom, suddenly hit with the pang of realization that you had just met the Spider-Man: the well-known vigilante protecting Nueva York from all corners, beloved by the public. Excitement can’t seem to conjure itself within you, however, your gaze still lingering on the building that Miguel was possibly in.

A hesitant step takes you forward back to the building, but your phone vibrates abruptly from a notification from Mrs. Darcie. Word must’ve gotten out so quickly that it reached the O'Hara's neighborhood, as her text was asking if you and Miguel were alright. Your thumbs shake as you try and type up a response to let her know that you were at least alive, but you know that Gabriella wanted you both home.

The least you could do is make sure half of that concern was eased. You were counting on Spider-Man to do the rest.

With an arm reaching out for a taxi, you rush into one and tell the driver to step on the gas, promising to tip extra. You’d be willing to give all the money you had with you if it meant that you could be with Gabriella for tonight.

You’ve underestimated the nightly rush hour this Friday night had brought upon, because there’s a sea of cars that are equally as stuck as you are amidst the road. Tangible fingers go to grip your hair frustratingly, and asking the driver to go any further was basically useless. Each minute you wasted on the same road you had been on for what was nearing twenty minutes made you more anxious by the minute.

“I-isn’t there some sort of shortcut?” you ask the driver hoarsely. “I don’t care what roads you have to take, just please get off this one. I’m begging you. I have a child that’s waiting for me.”

His eyes give you a quick glance in the mirror, and empathy embeds itself in his equally tired eyes. He must be a father himself, you think, as he gives you an affirmative nod and swings off the road onto a much more bumpy and gravelly, but visibly less dense one.

It’s nearly an agonizing hour later off the road—it would’ve most likely reached around two or even three if you stayed on the main road—but you thankfully make it to the O’Hara’s residence. Your body moves on its own, flying out the elevator and speeding down the floor of the apartment. You burst open the door, visible sweat misted on your forehead and an ache to your limbs but all that is ignored when Mrs. Darcie greets you with relief, with a sleeping Gabriella settled soundly on the couch as her favorite TV show buzzes in the background.

She grasps you tightly by the arms. “My goodness, thank heavens you’re alright,” she murmurs quietly. “That must’ve been quite a scare… are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” you gasp out tiredly. “But how is she? Gabi, I mean… d-does she—”

Mrs. Darcie shakes her head. “She fell asleep a while ago, she doesn’t know. I just managed to get informed thanks to my son who works near the building. But where is Miguel?”

Dread floods your face once more, remembering why you left the banquet in the first place. Somehow, however, your phone vibrates and receives a text from the one and only. A loud sigh escapes your lips and you crumple to the floor as the feeling returns to your numb legs as Miguel’s texts ease your worries.

Hey I’m alive and alright. I saw you leave earlier, hope you’re safe. I’m omw home.

You fight the urge to burst into tears from the relief as Mrs. Darcie helps you back up. “I’m assuming that’s him,” she says gently as she encourages you to take off your heels. “What a waste of night and beautiful dress. Shame that blasted giant iguana or something had to ruin it.”

A broken laugh leaves you from her gentle humor. You glance down at the dress that the mysterious Lyla had given you tonight and sigh sadly at the many tears of the tulle and fabric. The dress looked expensive and you planned on wearing it again for formal events, but alas, fate has decided to toy with you.

“That’s alright,” you mutter as you help Mrs. Darcie gather her stuff back up so she can finally leave. “I have plenty of others to use in the meantime.”

The elderly woman leaves you inside their apartment after bidding you a goodnight to tend to Gabriella, who’s still sound asleep and oblivious to what was happening to the world and people around her. That’s a good thing, at least, you think to yourself as you tidy up the living room around her quietly. Ignorance is bliss, sometimes.

She’s still small enough that you’re able to carry her to her room even at her age and it reminds you a lot of when she was younger, when she’d pretend to be asleep so you could carry her yourself to go back to her room. Nowadays, she knows her bedtime and does it by herself, but assuming she had been waiting for you or Miguel to come home, sleep had snuck onto her as she waited and waited.

You put her down gently, hoping not to get any of the leftover debris on your soiled clothes onto her freshly-washed body. The action just barely stirs her awake, her eyes slitting open at the slightest bit. Your blurry figure just barely makes it to her senses and she grins sleepily.

A titter escapes her lips. “You look like a…” Gabriella starts, her words faltering due to a fading consciousness.

“Like a…?” you whisper softly, a hand stroking her hair gently.

“Like a…” you can tell she’s trying to find the words in her very limited vocabulary currently, her brain threatening to shut off at any second now. “Like a princess, I think?”

You raise your brows at her description as Gabriella immediately falls back asleep. You suppose you do look much more dressed up from usual, but your cheeks tingle a hint of warmth at the comparison of literal royalty. You blame it on the drowsiness.

Your own tiredness begins to crawl up your spine as you stay by Gabriella’s side in her darkened bedroom, her quiet breaths soothing you like a lullaby. With heavy eyelids threatening to shut close at any minute, you fight the urge to give into the Sandman, insistent on Miguel’s return.

Miguel…

His name rings aloud in your mind for a moment.

Miguel…

“I promise you, I’ll make sure Miguel gets home safely.”

Spider-Man’s familiar voice suddenly jolts you awake. Your brows crunch together. How on earth did Spider-Man know Miguel’s name when you merely referred to him as your boss? Perhaps he saw Miguel in the garden beforehand? Maybe Miguel had an earlier oncoming with him from before and Spider-Man just knew him from that one incident? Or… he just happens to know the names of all the citizens of Nueva York because… that’s just how Spider-Man is?

Or, was Miguel actually Spid—you shake your head in the same second you think of such a stupid reasoning. That’s impossible…

… you know in your heart that it just is.

Any reason that you attempt to give, you think of it as either obnoxious or just simply impossible. Maybe you did let it slip that your boss’s name was Miguel… that just seems like the most plausible reason. After all, your adrenaline was at an all-time high and you could barely remember what had happened before the takeover, let alone the conversations you had.

Whatever it was, it was going to bring Miguel back home, and that’s what ultimately had mattered in the end. It probably wasn’t even your business to prod around.

At Gabriella’s visible sleeping state, you stand up and start to head towards the bathroom to fix yourself up, but the sound of the master bedroom’s window suddenly shuffling open makes your nerves electrify. Miguel’s bedroom sat just right next to Gabriella’s, and it was also the bedroom that was nearest to the complex’s fire escape, so a break-in at this time of night was highly plausible.

Grabbing one of the displayed metal baseball bats on the wall, you turn off Gabriella’s lights and lock the door behind, ensuring her safety first before yours. You’re careful to tiptoe around the more creaky parts of the floorboards, desperate to make yourself not seen by the intruder as you step closer and closer to Miguel’s bedroom. The door is just barely ajar, and the lights are on. A distinct shuffling, bed springs, and a masculine groan echo from the crack of the doorway and when all is silent from the other side of the door, you make your move and burst in, ready to swing at whoever threatens the O’Hara residence.

The bat is suddenly grabbed from your hands from a familiar neon orange webbing and thrusted to the side of the room, where it thunks against the wall and falls limply. You gasp aloud and with nothing to defend yourself with, you look up with fear in your eyes that suddenly turn to shock from the sight in front of you.

There, standing in the same blue and red vinyl suit you had crossed paths with earlier, without its mask completing the look… and thus, exposing the face of the man you had been waiting for to come back home to you.

a/n ; second to last part to this mini-series and once again, i apologize for this nearly six-month delay, last semester was rough for uni. almost made this into two parts, but i felt like they just belonged together and i quite like the blend of them together.

thanks for the patience for those who stuck around and have waited far too long for this, you deserve this! i'm glad to see you all again <3 thank you endlessly for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and appreciated (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @raeisthebae @mvchmp @um-well @nintendh-e @eddieslooneymoonie @deputy-videogamer @xochyw @honeybeeznuts @aspens-cove @btszn @scaleniusrm @goldenpoison @the-pan-liquid (if you'd like to be either added or removed from the taglist, please lmk! i know it's been awhile, so hi again haha)

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader #fem!y/n

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golbrocklovely · 1 year ago

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careful what you wish for // sam and colby (pt. 4)

A/N: first off, terribly sorry this came out so late. i've had a hectic last couple days, and didn't get to finish this fic up until tonight. and sadly, this the last thing i'm posting for my 13 nights of halloween. it's crazy to think that this is finally over. to anyone curious i will be getting back to answering asks by tomorrow. i'll also be writing up my review of hell week, and any other random things i had planned to write about/review before my 13 nights. also, i know so many of you have been waiting eagerly for this next installment, so sorry for the long awaited update. but hopefully it's made better by this fic. happy belated halloween, and happy haunting !

prompt: sam and colby have left you high and dry, so now you've resorted to possibly hooking up with a coworker at an event. but sam and colby will be having NONE of that. || vampire!sam and demon!colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SO MUCH SMUT, manipulation via powers (surprise! it's not you this time), fucking in a public, fucking with a crowd watching, the crowd is also all of your coworkers, dumb business shit that i know nothing about bc i went to school for theater and work in retail lol, fourth wall break (spooky), cursing, degrading language, being bit but no blood drawn), mentions of: princess, baby girl, baby, slut, whore, called a fleshlight once, unprotected sex (but no fear of getting pregnant bc they're supernatural), gets a bit dark and possessive towards the end, heavy use of MINE and OURs, snc own you so…. if you don't like that don't read,

word count: 7077

~~~~~~~~~

It was Halloween night, and while you usually looked forward to Halloween, this night was a bit different. The company you worked at was having their annual 'Final Fiscal Quarter Party'. The higher ups agreed that it would be easier to throw it during October, rather than in December. Individual offices could throw their own then, but the main, big event was happening tonight.

Your company rented out a huge hotel ballroom. There was catering, a local DJ playing some family friendly tunes, and a stage where awards were going to be given out. You had been to a couple of these events over the years, but they were always very... boring. You would much rather be at home, snuggled up, watching a scary movie.

Or maybe getting fucked by your... boyfriends? It was hard to describe the relationship you had with Sam and Colby. They used you, but you used them. It was a very symbiotic relationship in that way. But currently, you weren't really too keen on them.

You considered hitting up your old friend, Jess. She was the one, after all, that magically brought Sam and Colby into your life. You hadn't talked to her in a long time. It could be because she still blamed you for the book permanently shutting and ruining her dating life forever.

She could bitch all she wanted, but she wasn't the one being stalked and fucked by a demon and a vampire.

You had grown a bit tired of Sam and Colby, their antics, and their overall ability to flip your world upside down. The sex was great, obviously. But at what cost?

Not to mention, they hadn't spoken to you, or showed up, in months. You were going through a bit of a dry spell, and hated the fact that they hadn't answered your calls. So, it did cross your mind to get rid of them. Permanently.

But that was an issue for another time. Right now, all you had to focus on was getting just drunk enough to enjoy this stuffy party, but not too drunk that you get messy.

And that came a bit easy for you. Across the bar, a handsome man smiled at you, giving you a nod as you accepted his drink. You could see his paper nametag said Brian, and you hadn't recognized him from your own office - so he was a safe bet. God knows you weren't the only one trying to hook up with someone tonight. Plenty of colleagues from different divisions were going to be getting crazy tonight. It was an inside joke amongst the company that this night was usually a fuckfest.

You gazed over at Brian, admiring his silky quaffed hair and great suit. He had a lovely smile; one he shot your way over the glass of whiskey he had in his hand.

A man like Brian seemed... dependable. A good choice for a significant other. Boring, basic, Brian. Maybe that's exactly what you needed. Something steady and settled. Not... supernatural.

Yeah, but could you ever fuck a man like Brian? A man like him could never fulfill your needs. You could hear Colby's voice in the back of your head.

You rolled your eyes, taking a long sip from your wine glass. No. Brian might seem a bit basic on the surface, but who knows? Deep down he could be a sex god. Maybe he was packing some serious heat, and just knew all the right ways to eat a woman out. Yeah, that's what's you would be focusing on. Not the imagine that Sam and Colby would surely try to paint in your head.

You were brought out of your thoughts as the lights dimmed up and down, signaling everyone to get to their seats, as the speeches and award ceremony was going to start soon. You shot a look at Brian one more time and found your seat quickly.

The head of the company sauntered up on stage as applause erupted throughout the room. He nodded his head, shooting a couple people smiles and finger guns. Eventually as the room quieted down, he stepped up to the podium, beginning his speech.

"Good evening, everyone. I'm so happy you all could make it here tonight. Happy Halloween by the way. Isn't this much better than a Christmas party?" He let out a solid laugh, swatting at the crowd jokingly. "But as I was saying, tonight we are all here to celebrate. This company might be big, but it's the little guys - the individuals - that deserve the praise the most. Sure, I'm the head and face of this place, but you guys are what make it possible."

Another round of claps came from the room. You glanced around and noticed that the chair next to you was empty. There was a name tag on the plate, designating this spot for a "Colson Brock".... whoever that was.

"Now before the awards begin, I would like to introduce you all to someone remarkable. This man has helped shape this company in many ways. And, he's incredibly sexy. So let's all give a round of applause for Samson Golbach." The CEO grinned brightly, gesturing to the side of the stage.

You raised an eyebrow, Sexy? That's a strange word to use at a business party. Not to mention, The CEO was married to a woman so... this was all a bit confusing. You awkwardly clapped as the light shined on a man with light blonde hair. He was in an all-black suit, his hair gelled in a sleek look. He waved at the crowd, smirking mischievously. He smiled once he got to the podium, his fangs glistening in the light.

Was that... Sam?

You gasped in your seat, staring up with wide eyes at the stage. It looked like him, but you had never seen him in a suit. Plus he wasn't exuding the same energy he usually would so, maybe this wasn't him. Maybe this was his doppelganger, or someone that looked extremely like him. You sat back in your chair, narrowing your eyes up at the man.

"Thank you all for having me here today. I know many of you don't know who I am, but that's by design. I purposefully like to stay in the shadows, remain almost anonymous. It's a system I built to keep this company running at breakneck speed, and so far... this has been our most successful year to date!" Samson cheered.

You could feel the room clap again, happy with Sam... Samson's words. You took a deep breath, your anger rising. This can't be Sam. Sure, it looked like him and even sounded like him. But Sam and Colby had never taken this... thing, with you outside of your own house. There was no way they would do this to you in front of all of your coworkers and colleagues.

"It's nice to finally be appreciated and received so well. I'm sure you've all had some crazy days and night working here. I usually work all hours of the night and barely get to see the sun. You would think I was some sort of a vampire or something." Samson chuckled, some members of the crowd following suit. He turned, catching your eye, and gave you a wink.

Did he just...

The chair next to you pulled back, a man sat down hastily. He cleared his throat, catching his breath. He unbuttoned his dark blue suit jacket, the silver pinstripes reflecting in the light. Your eyes traveled up the man's form, taking him in until finally stopping on his face. Everything about him was familiar, but his hair was pushed back, exposing his forehead. He took his glasses off, cleaning the lenses and sliding them back on.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” You growled.

The man, Colby, turned to look at you suddenly. “I'm... sorry?”

You crossed your arms tightly, sitting back in your chair. “I can't believe that you and Sam would do this.”

He gave a weary smile. “I'm so sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.”

“Right, Colby.” You huffed.

“Colby? That's a silly name,” he chuckled. “My name is Colson.”

“Of course it is.” You turned to him sharply, “You know you two have a lot of audacity to do this.”

He shook his head awkwardly. “Again, I'm not sure what you're talking about, Miss.”

“You guys haven't spoken to me in months. I've called out to yall and got nothing back. And now you show up and want to play dress up?!” You whispered harshly. “You guys are sick.”

“I'm not entirely sure what to say. I'm not who you think I am,” he dissented. “I'm Colson Brock, not Colby, and I've never met that man on stage before in my life. But I am about to get an award from him so... if you could just stop talking to me, that would be for the best.”

You scoffed. “I swear to God, Colby-!”

You were cut off as Sam’s voice grew louder, “This award is given out to individuals that show inspiring traits and work countlessly day in and day out for us. The award for Best Dedication, Integrity, Creativity, and Knowledge goes to... Colson Brock!”

You scowled as Colby stood up, patting down his suit softly. He walked towards the stage, shooting you a smug look over his shoulder. He stepped on stage, shaking Sam's hand, and a photo was taken of the two of them holding the award.

You grabbed your purse, sneaking off to the bathroom quickly. You stumbled in, rushing to the sink and leaning against it. The bathroom was empty, just you alone. You breathed deeply, shaking your head.

That had to be Sam and Colby. There's no way that wasn't them.

But a part of you imagined, for just a moment, that maybe... it wasn't them. How could they have manipulated everyone into thinking they were real workers at this company? The CEO introduced Sam, or Samson. Colby's name, or Colson's name, was on the nametag and award.

You felt yourself flush at the thought. Oh my God, if that isn't Colby, that man out there thinks I'm absolutely insane. How the fuck am I supposed to go back to my table, sit there and eat an under seasoned chicken parm, and pretend I didn't just berate a man?

You groaned, bending down, and resting your head against the sink counter. Even when Sam and Colby weren't around, they still fucked with you.

You heard the bathroom door squeak open, your body jolting up. You didn't need another person thinking you were losing it.

Heavy footsteps crept into the bathroom, a man. A deep voice sighed, snickering lightly. You glanced up through the mirror, your eyes widening. Colby swayed in, leaning against the wall. His suit jacket was gone, now just in his button up and slacks. He rolled up his sleeves, running a hand through his hair.

“Surprise, Princess. Did ya miss us?” He teased.

You glared, “What the fuck, Colby?”

“What?” He gestured outside the bathroom, “A bit too dramatic?”

“This is my livelihood! How dare you and Sam come and fuck this up for me!” You exclaimed, anger coursing through your veins.

“Relax, baby. We would never do anything too bad. No need to worry. Everyone will forget any of this happened. Honestly.” He put his hands up defensively. “This was all meant to be a bit of fun. We just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, you succeeded. Congratulations.” You retorted, crossing your arms.

“You should be congratulating me on my award. I have the best dedication, integrity, creativity, and knowledge.... D-I-C-K. Dick? Best dick, get it?” He bit his lip cockily, “Came up with it myself.”

“You're a fucking genius,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes. “God, I knew I should have talked to Jess sooner.”

“Jess... why does that name sound familiar?” He questioned, feigning curiosity.

“She's the one that gave me the book that made the two of you.” You explained bitterly.

“Oh, she is? I'm gonna have write her a thank you card,” he winked. “But why exactly do you need to talk to her?”

“You two... I want you gone.” You admitted.

His face dropped, “What?”

You stepped up to Colby, getting in his face. “Aren't you tired of fucking around with me? Coming and going as you please? Why am I not allowed a normal life with a normal guy?!”

The lights flickered in the bathroom, Colby's eyes turning black for a split second, his horns visible. You shuttered, pressing yourself against the counter. The lights stopped flickering, and Colby was back to normal.

He cleared his throat, loosening his tie a bit. “Because... you're ours. You belong to us.”

“Fuck you.” You spat.

“You have... multiple times,” Colby pointed out in a snarky tone. “Even last year around this time, too.”

“Last Halloween?” You thought back, and a bunch of images started popping into your mind. Sam snapped Colby's neck but was also somehow terrorizing trick-or-treaters. Colby took control of your body but was also somehow dead while you and Sam fucked in your kitchen. It was all very confusing and didn't make quite sense.

“Wait, how the hell did you both fuck me and simultaneously not?” You puzzled, aggravated.

“I guess it just depends on what you picked.” Colby smirked, “Right, reader?”

“What are you talking about?” You replied.

“Don't worry about it.” He leaned against the counter next to you, “Back to what you were saying though. So, you want a normal guy so you can live a normal life... why? Isn't it more exciting to get fucked by a demon and a vampire?”

“Yeah, but there's more to life than sex.” You argued.

He feigned shock, “Take that back.”

You jeered, “You're extra fucking annoying, you know that?”

“And you clearly need the brattiness fucked out of you. But for some reason you don't want me or Sam to do it. Why? Did you have someone else in mind?” He took a couple steps, facing you again, “Like, say... Brian.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “How do you-“

He interjected. “I'm a demon. I know a lot of things. Not to mention I saw him and you eye-fucking each other by the bar. You're lucky I saw it and not Sam. Because Brian would be drained dry by now. Still probably will be.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, fine. I was eye-fucking Brian. And why am I not allowed to? Yall have been gone for months.”

“But you've been putting that toy of yours to such good use,” Colby taunted.

“You're an asshole.” You shot back.

“Thank you. I appreciate the love,” he smiled genuinely. “But I gotta ask, do you really think a man named 'Brian' can make you come like we can? Be honest with yourself on that.”

“That's not the only reason I want him,” you responded sassily. “Plus, he could be really good at sex.”

“Okay then. Let's find out.” Colby stomped over to the door, yelling out, "Brian! Get in here!"

You furrowed your brow, confused as to what Colby had up his sleeve. What the hell was he bringing Brian in here for?

Brian stepped in, glancing between the two of you. He had a dazed look on his face, clearly entranced.

“Colby, don-“ You started.

He cut you off again, “Look, princess. You wanted to know if he's a good fuck. So, I'm giving you the chance to find out. See what a normal fucking will bring to your life.”

“You can't force him to fuck me!” You fumed.

“I mean, I definitely could, but I'm not going to.” He turned to Brian, patting his shoulder, “Brian, my guy, do you want to fuck Y/N?”

Brian nodded. “Yes.”

“That's why you were buying her drinks tonight, right?” Colby asked.

“Yeah.” Brian’s voice was dull, almost like there were no thoughts behind his eyes.

“Such an honest man,” Colby commented. “Do you find her attractive?”

“Of course.” Brian agreed.

“Would you sleep with her if she said yes?” He continued.

Brian blinked, “Yes.”

Colby looked at you, “There we go. Happy?”

“I'm not fucking him in here, or in front of you.” You retorted, leaning back against the counter.

“Don't you want to prove me wrong? Don't you want to wipe the smug look off my face when he makes you come with his tongue? Or his totally, not average sized, dick?” Colby stepped up to you, his voice low, “The moment I walked in here, you got wet.”

A rush of blood came to your cheeks, your breath hitching.

“No amount of blushing can hide that deep down, you're a slut that wants to be fucked - pretty much - anywhere. And you're only giving me lip because we left you cold and alone for a couple months. I'm sorry about that. I truly wished I listened to your pleads...” he leaned in, kissing your cheek. “And cries...” he moved to the other cheek, giving it a quick kiss. “And screams,” he kissed your forehead gently. “Begging me to come fuck you. But absence makes the heart grow fonder. And this, right here, is my apology to you.”

You stood still, unsure what to do. Part of you did want to fuck Brian, just because you did find him hot. But with Colby standing next to him... it was no contest.

“Here. I'll sweeten the deal,” Colby offered. “If he makes you come, we'll leave. Forever.”

You froze, “Really?”

“No, probably not. The whole magical book kinda forbids that. But we will leave here, and you and Brian can go on your merry way and you two can go have beautifully... vanilla, sex.” He smiled dryly.

“Lucky for Brian, I'm already wet.” You quipped, glaring.

“Perfect. Brian, give the lady what she wants.” He gasped, “Ooh, can I choose what he does? Pleaseeeee?”

You blinked, giving the slightest nod.

“You are so generous.” Colby spun to him, “Brian, do you want to eat her out?”

“I would... but I don't do that.” Brian spoke monotone.

Colby’s face dropped, almost mimicking yours. “You don't give head? Sloppy toppy? None of that?”

“No.” Brian replied.

“This is the man you want, huh? Absolute loser,” Colby pointed at him, rolling his eyes. “Well, Brian, now you do. So, go crazy.”

Brian turned to you, a lustful look overcoming him. He dropped to his knees, crawling towards you. Your heart raced, watching his every move. His hands wrapped around your ankle, slowly kissing up your leg gently. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, your head falling back a bit.

Colby leaned against the wall, studying you. His face was blank, almost uninterested. You glared at him, trying to ignore his presence. He smiled, giving a little wave.

Brian nibbled on your inner thigh, his fingers stroking up and down the center of your underwear. He brushed against your clit, your knees almost buckling.

“You're wet, Y/N.” Brian hummed in awe.

“Yeah, that's what happens when you turn a woman on.” He leaned in, whispering to you, “Is he new around here or...?”

“Shut up, Colby!” You groaned. “Keep going Brian, please. I need you.”

“Don't take it too personally, Brian. She says that to everyone. Especially me.” Colby grinned.

“Drop dead.” You hissed.

He remarked, “I'm not really alive so...”

Brian pulled down your underwear, letting them fall down your legs and to the floor. The cool air hit your hot sex, making your body tense up. Brian leaned in, his mouth connecting with your clit.

You closed your eyes tightly, allowing the sensation of his tongue to arouse you more. It was a slow build, that was for sure. Nothing like Sam and Colby and the way they did things. But it was still nice.

But maybe not what you needed.

You placed your hand on the back of Brian's head, pushing him more into your heat. He grunted, the vibrations feeling fantastic against your clit. You amped up your moans, hoping it was believable to Colby.

He yawned, gazing at you bored. You shook your head, deciding to ignore Colby. You were determined to come, to make them leave. But Brian was not helping you, which was upsetting.

“Brian, baby... go a little faster please.” You begged, annoyed.

He nodded, moving his tongue hastily. You could feel the pleasure build more, but it was still a long way away from being close to an orgasm. He slid a finger in, pumping in and out sloppily. You groaned, feeling even less turned on suddenly.

“I guess I know why you don't give head.” Colby swatted at Brian, “Move.”

Your eyes widened, “What? No! Brian, st-”

“I know you want to come so we leave, but that ain't gonna happen with Brian over here.” Colby mentioned.

"Well, maybe he could fuck me!" You argued, gesturing to his dick.

“But I'm not hard.” Brian stated.

Colby raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Eating pussy isn't really a turn on for me.” Brian informed.

“God, Y/N, you really know how to pick them.” Colby pulled him up by his arm, smiling sinisterly. “Brian, why don't you leave and go find Sam? I think he can teach you a valuable lesson on what happens to men that don't please their women.”

Brian turned and left, not saying another word. You huffed, glaring harshly at Colby. “Your little glares aren't going to do anything to me, sweetheart. If anything, they just make me hard.”

Colby's hand slid down and cupped your sex, palming your clit gingerly. You gasped, back arching as you pressed yourself against the counter. Colby barricaded you in, his hand beginning to make small circles on your clit.

“This is how a man fucks a woman like you.” He uttered, staring at you intensely.

“But you're not eating me out.” You challenged.

Colby cocked his head. “If you wanted my tongue, you could have just asked.”

You suddenly felt a tongue licking at your entrance, your body shuttering in ecstasy. “Fuck, h-how-?”

"Did you forget I have abilities? Is it because the horns aren't here?" The lights flickered, and when they turned back on, his horns were out. “How about now? Do you remember what I am now?”

"Yeaahhh, I remember." You whined, your head falling back in pleasure.

“You are so sexy when you get close to coming. God, it makes me hard just thinking about it.” Colby pushed his clothed, growing dick against your thigh, “Do you feel me?”

You nodded mindlessly, your hands gripping his forearms.

“Princess?” He asked innocently.

“Uh-huh?" You murmured.

“I think that's enough for you." All the sensations stopped, Colby pulling away from you.

“Wha-? No. No! Colby, please.” You grumbled.

He asserted, “It's time for you to be punished.”

“What did I do?” You questioned, your mouth a gape.

"I'm sorry, was Brian that forgetful or do you like playing dumb?" Colby spun you around, making you face the mirror. He rolled your dress up a bit, pressing his bulge against your bare ass. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm gonna start fucking you, and you have to remain quiet. Just like you were with Brian."

You lowered your voice, “Why do I have to be silent?”

“Because otherwise, you'll get caught.” He whispered cheekily.

The door busted open, and a gaggle of women came in, chit chatting like there wasn't a demon about to fuck you right against the sink.

You gulped; your voice even quieter. “What the fuck, Colby?!”

"Don't worry, princess. If you remain silent, they won't see you. But once you make a single noise, they'll know. They'll know that you are a dirty slut that likes to get fucked in the bathroom. That you're so desperate for dick that you'd let a demon fuck you. And a vampire." He tsked sassily, "Double greedy."

Colby unbuttoned his pants, giving your ass a slap as his cock sprang free. You bit your lip, holding back a gasp.

"You ready for me, baby?" He lined himself up with your entrance, sliding along your lips. Then finally, he glided his cock in.

You trembled from the sensations, direly wanting to moan along with him. But you didn't want to get caught. Being fucked while others were around, whether they could see you or not, was embarrassing enough.

But also incredibly thrilling.

Colby thrusted deeply, his cock hitting the right spot over and over again. You felt overwhelmed, but in the best way. Your body already felt like it was building rapidly, your legs shaking under your weight. You felt like your skin was on fire, burning against the cool air.

A lady walked up to the sink next to you, washing her hands and looking at herself in the mirror. You shuttered out a breath, Colby picking up his pace.

“Don't look at her, Y/N. Look at yourself in the mirror. Watch yourself get fucked.” He commanded breathlessly.

You turned your head, staring straight. He smirked at you in the mirror, keeping his pace the same while lazily pulling off his tie.

"This is what you deserve, sweetheart. You're such a slut for me." He yanked your hands behind your back, tying them easily with his tie. He gripped your connected hands, bucking his hips harder and faster now.

Your body buzzed erotically, your hips gyrating in time with Colby's. You could feel your edge building; all you had to do was stay quiet.

Colby slid one hand down between your legs, finding your swollen clit instantly. He rubbed it faster than his thrusts, causing your whole body to jolt. You sucked in a harsh breath, knowing you shouldn't have. But God... the sensation was too much for you to stay quiet.

The women in the bathroom looked around, confused.

"Baby, do you want to get caught or something? Because you are being awfully loud. Maybe you need something in your mouth to quiet you down." He snaked his other hand up towards your face, his two fingers rubbing along your lips. You parted your mouth, allowing his fingers inside.

He cursed, “That's fucking it baby. Be a good girl and suck them for me.”

You sucked his fingers like your life depended on it. He finger-fucked your mouth in time with his dick, both speeding up as the minutes passed. You could feel yourself getting close, knowing that your orgasm was imminent.

“It's been too long since the last time you sucked my cock.” He chuckled darkly, “Maybe later you do that for me. Wouldn't you want that, princess?”

You nodded desperately, bucking your hips wildly against his cock and hands. You were about to explode, your edge hitting its peak. This is all you wanted for the last couple months: to be fucked hard and well. And that's what Colby was doing.

“You almost ready to come? Build up baby. Suck my fingers dry. Suck them like you would my dick.” You took his fingers deeper, gagging around them. You pumped yourself on his cock, whimpering. "There you go, baby. What a good girl." Colby leaned in, his horns grazing your cheek as he uttered, "My good girl... Come for me."

Your body spasmed around Colby's cock, bouncing on it helplessly. You moaned loudly around his fingers, not caring if anyone heard. You had been so focused on staring in the mirror at yourself getting fucked that didn't see that you and Colby were all alone in the bathroom once more. His eyes bore at you in the mirror, flashing to black.

Relaxing your hips, his cock pulled out of you for a moment, letting you relax. You felt your juices run down your inner thigh, your body still running high. You leaned down, placing your head against the counter as you took some deep breaths.

“Hi there, baby girl. “A familiar voice came from behind you, but it wasn't Colby's. You looked up quickly, Sam now behind you, and Colby was nowhere to be seen. Sam waved back at you in the mirror, smirking. "You ready for me now?"

“W-Where is Colby?” You stuttered, your pussy twitching at the thought of Sam's hard cock.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about him. He'll be back soon enough." Sam traced a finger along your sex, gasping. "God baby, you are so wet. Completely soaking yourself."

He took his finger into his mouth, tasting you. "Fuck, I missed that."

Your mouth hung open, watching him through lustful eyes. His hand snaked around to the front of your body, grabbing your neck firmly. He pulled you flush against his partially exposed body, his cock hard against your ass. "We give you everything you could ask for, and you still wanted someone like Brian? How pathetic."

He forced your head to look at yourself in the mirror, "You are a desperate slut just begging to be fucked. But we're the only ones that can make you feel this good."

Sam slammed his hips into yours, his cock taking you deeply. You grunted loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. He took advantage of your still tied up hands, holding them tightly. His other hand raced up your back, lowering you down to the sink. He placed you flat against the counter, fucking you harshly. You shook with each of his thrusts, mewling at every in and out.

“You think you get to choose who fucks you now? You think you can move on from us?” He fumed, his cocking hitting your spot repeatedly.

You panted, “Noooo.”

“There is no one other than us. Let me make that abundantly clear: you're ours.” Sam's fangs sunk into your skin, your eyes widening. He continued to bite you all over, barely drawing any blood, but marking you; letting everyone know you were taken.

Your second orgasm was close. You needed this second one badly, itching to come sooner rather than later. You could feel how desperate and hot and slutty it was turning you.

“Baby girl, do you deserve to come? Have you been good?” Sam questioned.

You nodded, your whole body shaking, “Yessss. Yes I have. Please Sam! Please!”

He pulled you up again, locking eyes with you in the mirror. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly. “Ride my dick, baby. Make yourself come on my dick.”

You uncontrollably bucked your hips, whining on his cock. His hold on your neck tightened just enough, making it hard to breath and your vision blurring. The lack of oxygen made your orgasm hit twice as hard. You soaked his member, moving mindlessly on it until you finally finished. Your legs gave out a bit, Sam catching you. He snickered, his red eyes taking you in through the mirror.

The doors to the bathroom busted open again, a random lady coming in. She turned and looked at the two of you, not even acknowledging what she had to be seeing. "Y/N, you need to come out there quick."

You were taken aback by this woman, unsure of who she was or what the hell she wanted you for. "W-what are you talking about?" You rushed, shimmying your dress down, trying to cover yourself back up.

“They're calling your name. You won an award!” She exclaimed, leaving the bathroom happily.

You furrowed your brow, turning to Sam. But he was gone. Those powers of their really do come in handy for moments like these.

You shuffled out of the bathroom, even more confused as you glanced around at everyone from your company. They were all looking at you, smiling brightly and being congratulatory. You walked towards the stage, the people directing you, and as you got closer, you saw Sam and Colby on it, holding a plaque of some sort.

Sam pulled you on stage, kissing your cheek sweetly. Colby handed you the award, shaking your hand dramatically. You took the award in your hand, turning it to see what it said.

“Give it up for Y/N everyone. The biggest slut of the year!” Sam yelled into the microphone. “Congratulations baby, you deserve it.”

You gawked at Sam and Colby, the reality of what they did hitting you. You threw the award on the ground, glaring at them harshly.

“Hey now, we worked really hard on that.” Sam pouted.

“Fuck you, how dare you make me a fool in front of everyone!” You ranted, getting in their faces.

"Princess, no one is gonna remember this. And luckily, no one will remember this either." Colby smiled devilishly.

Sam and Colby grabbed at your dress, tearing it off your body like it was made of cheap fabric. The crowd cheered, your body heating up immediately as you were suddenly naked in front of everyone.

“Now, don't argue with us, plaything. You can bitch and moan all you want to but being fucked in front of everyone... turns you on.” Colby wrapped his arms around you, whispering in your ear, “No matter how much you want to deny it, you can't deny how drenched you are right now.”

Your body quivered as Colby's fingers slipped easily into your cunt. You fell back against him; his suddenly naked body cool against your hot skin. Sam sauntered up to you, rubbing his hands up and down your torso. His hands kneaded your breasts, nipples aching to be touched.

Sam laughed, “Look at her, Colby. She can't even argue with us. She knows that we're right. She is the biggest slut of the year. She's our slut, our toy, our plaything. Ours. Forever.”

The room erupted in applause, some even screaming out your name.

“Let's give them a show, princess,” Colby gestured to the eager crowd. Let the people see the real slut you are. Isn’t that what you want? To be fucked in front of everyone.”

You couldn't think anymore. Every sensation was overpowering your thoughts. You knew deep down that Sam and Colby were right, and all you could think of was how badly you wanted to come again.

You nodded feverishly, your hands automatically pawing at both of their bodies. The air around you changed once you said yes, your body being positioned graphically. Forced down onto your knees, Colby stood in front of you, while Sam was behind you.

“Aww, baby. Look, it's your favorite positions: on your hands and knees, getting railed by us.” Sam jested playfully.

Your sex throbbed, direly needing them inside of you. You whined, looking up at Colby. “Please, just fuck me. No more teasing.”

Colby stared into your eyes, jerking himself off right in front of your face. “You want this, huh? You want me in your mouth. Say it.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I want you in my mouth.”

“And what about me, toy?” Sam slapped your ass, making you look back at him.

“Fuck, I need it. I need the both of you so bad!” You cried, grinding your hips back against Sam.

Hoots and hollers sounded off around the room. You glanced at the crowd, their hungry eyes taking your desperate form in.

“Fine then, since you asked so nicely,” Colby cupped your face, turning your head back to his cock. The tip pushed against your mouth, sliding in easily. He moaned lowly, almost animalistically. Sam teased his cock along your entrance, slipping in effortlessly.

Once they were in you, you sighed deeply. It felt so good to be surrounded by Sam and Colby, to be filled by them. They had you right where they wanted you, and you loved every second of it.

And the crowd seemed to love it even more.

They started off slow, taking their time to build your pleasure up. There was nothing else on your mind. All you could think about was their cock and how much you wanted them to come deep inside of you.

Colby gaped, “Oh princess, you have the filthiest mind. Maybe even dirtier than ours.”

“That's why she's our slut. We are just innocent people being used by this whore of a woman,” Sam shuttered, lulling his head back as he fucked you. “And God, I love every second of it.”

“I could fuck this mouth for hours. How does that sound, sweetheart? You love that idea, don't you?” Colby breathed, biting his lip, staring down at you.

You nodded enthusiastically, taking his shaft deeper. He grunted, hips twitching. His hand rested on your head lightly, pulling your hair softly. His grip tightened, causing you to gag around him.

Sam cursed, “Fuuuuck, she clenched around me when gagged. Keep doing that, baby girl. That felt so good.”

“Y/N, how can you get all of this, all of us, and still want something else? Especially Brian. What a fucking loser.” Colby groaned, disgusted.

Sam agreed, grimacing. “Dude didn't even know how to eat pussy. He didn't even like eating pussy.”

The crowd booed, screaming expletives at the sound of Brian's name.

“See, everyone knows that Brian sucks. How could you ever settle for something like that when you have the best right here?” Sam inquired. “Two men willing to do anything to make you come.”

"Let me make this perfectly clear, darling," Colby pulled himself out of you, raising you up so you were eye level with him. He held your face firmly, his voice low and calm. “While I'm never the type to get jealous, and watching you get eaten out by that joke of a man was entertaining and kinda sexy, let me be honest with you.”

His face dropped, his eyes darkening with each word. "If you ever go after another man again, I will personally make sure to rip his heart out in front of you, and then I’ll breed your cunt so deeply you will feel me for days. Because there is no one else for you, princess. Just. Us. Forever. That means for eternity, you are ours. You are mine."

Sam yanked your hair, pulling you out of Colby's grip for a moment. He grunted harshly, "That goes for me too, baby girl. If you ever even breathe near another man again, I might have to drain your sexy little body dry and turn you into our immortal plaything for forever. And don't think for a second I'm bluffing."

Colby took you by the neck, pulling you back towards him, choking you lightly. All the while, Sam was still fucking you. "There is no escaping us, Y/N. We will never let you go. No matter what you do for the rest of your life, we will always be there, in the shadows, watching. We own you. And nothing will change that."

His face relaxed, going back into his casual, smug look. "So... in the meantime, enjoy yourself, princess. And open your mouth again."

He pushed you down, his cock still hard and leaking, ready to fuck your mouth. Their words sank deeply into your mind, arousing and frightening you all at the same time.

Colby thrusted himself back in, gagging you. “There you go, baby. But now, I think it's time we give the people what they want. Right, everybody?!”

The room screamed in approval, lustful energy shooting through you from the sound. Suddenly, Sam and Colby began fucking you passionately, the sheer brutal force alone bouncing you back and forth on their cocks. You whined around them, feeling yourself get lost in the feeling of being their toy.

Sam groaned a breathy sound, “God, you're basically just a fleshlight, Y/N. Don't you love being used by us?”

“You know she does, Sam. Just a set of holes for us to use.” Colby’s voice was husky and low, “God, her mouth feels incredible.”

“She's so pathetic, really. She squeezed around me so tightly when we called her names. Maybe we should do that more often.” Sam taunted.

“Of course. There are so many more names we could come up with for her. But right now, all I'm concerned about is coming down her throat and fucking her until she chokes.” Colby's hips sped up as he face-fucked you. You didn't even have time to react, your jaw becoming slack and just allowing him to take over and use it like a toy. Tears welled up and rolled down your cheeks and drool dribbled down your chin from his harsh actions.

Sam's hand went between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. Your thighs shook from the feeling, the pleasure overwhelming.

“You're so close, aren't you, princess?” Colby panted.

Sam chimed in; his voice depraved. “Build up for us. Come with us, baby girl.”

They pounded into you in unison, almost taking the breath out of you with each thrust. The room began getting louder, chants of "Come for us" came from the crowd, building up in time with your orgasm.

Every part of this was spectacular and you couldn't get enough.

Your breathing hitched as your orgasm hit the edge, ready to fall over once they said you could. Sam and Colby kept going, kept using you, until they were ready. You begged them to let you come, your pleas muffled by Colby’s cock. Both thrusted with abandonment, needing to come just as badly as you.

Colby grunted, pulling your hair, “Fuck, fuck! Y/N, come! Come for us now!”

“Do it baby! That's fucking it, YES!” Sam growled, his fingers bruising your hips as he held them tightly.

All three of you exploded in euphoric pleasure, bellowing out in ecstasy. The crowd roared as Sam and Colby filled you up with their cum. You released around Sam's cock, soaking him. You swallowed as much of Colby's cum as you could, gagging as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly until finally slowing his hips down. Sam slammed inside of you once more, grunting out a strained cry. Your body was spent, exhausted from being fucked so many times. You felt yourself black out, unable to stay awake a moment longer.

When you came to, you were in your hotel room, inside the same hotel the event had taken place at. You felt sore everywhere, knowing that wasn’t a dream. You sighed happily, snuggling into bed. You noticed a note on the side of your pillow. You picked it up, reading it quickly.

Ours.

- Sam and Colby

<< Part 3B || Part 5 >>

#sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fic #sam golbach fanfiction #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #sam golbach smut #colby brock smut #sam golbach one shot #colby brock one shot #sam golbach oneshot #colby brock oneshot #sam golbach x reader #colby brock x reader #sam and colby x reader #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween

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sturn3 · 7 months ago

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i lowkey really got out of hand, girl... i'm sorry, i can re-do it if you'd like!!! (btw im not really sorry, im kinda proud of the smut i wrote) tw: not proofread cause im kinda lazy rn

matt's girlfriend was the sweetest angel anyone had ever met. always putting everyone's needs before her own. never wanting to disappoint anyone and she just had a very motherly nature, needing to take care of everyone around her.

so, that translated that she was a pathological people pleaser. taking up extra shifts at her work, always saying yes to her boss even though she didn't want to do something he suggested, giving her coworkers rides home, baking them the cookies she once brought to work and everyone continuesly asked for, giving rides to her coworkers and so much more.

her natural instinct of saying yes to everything to please everyone left her exhausted all the time. so, when she did have free time all she'd do is nap, that would be the case, of course, if no one of her friends called her to hang out or have her do some kind of chore. matt had finally had enough of missing his girlfriend so much and never having any time with her. and that's when he decided to intervene.

firstly, he decided to mix up her white laundry with a piece of red clothing, painting all of her formal clothes and cute lingerie, pink. you moved on and said, "That's fine, sweetie. everyone makes mistakes." matt had to work harder to pull out the beast he knew you were hiding.

secondly, he started messing up all of your orders. putting onion and peppers in every order, two vegetables you hated passionately.you did show a little more aggression towards that, but you picked the disgusting veggies off and made no deal about it.

thirdly, matt thought this was his best shot at getting out the worst version of you. you were currently enjoying a party at full swing, everyone was having fun and drinking. you were with your girlfriends a few feet away from where you had last left matt. what you had failed to realize yet was that matt had some added companion from the last time you looked over to him. a girl glued to his side. at that moment ,you didn't think you'd ever been angrier. matt tried to hide his smirk as he saw you stalking over to him with crossed arms over your chest. when you got there, you tapped the girl aggressively on her shoulder, causing her to turn around and give you a look as if you were the one interrupting something. she suddenly spoke, "what do you want?" she said as her big brown eyes bored over your figure,"for you to stop talking to my boyfriend." you said as you pushed her out of the way and grabbed matt by his hand.

you had to managed to get away from the crowded house party and inside his parked car."can you tell me why the fuck that bitch was on you like that? you fucking bored of me or something?" you said as you slapped down his neck, matt couldn't help but smile wickedly. "maybe." he replied testing you even more, he knew he was playing with fire. "maybe, huh?? i'll fucking show you how boring i am, matt. get in the back and strip." he knew not to piss you off more so that's what he did. finally, you climed to the backseat right after he had obeyed and done everything you had asked him to.

"so, you think you're funny, matt, yeah? you think i'm such a people pleasure who would let you fuck some random dumb whore?" oh my god, did he love seeing this side of you. he made a mental note to piss you more often. he was getting a bit too excited while you were sat on top of his lap and quite literally could feel his dick stood up against your thigh. "no, no that's not what i was trying to do. i love you, baby." you laughed bitterly at that, grabbing him by his face and pulling his lips close enough to yours, touching but never kissing, "well, i think you deserve a lesson, baby." you said mocking him. so you got to work. you were currently on your knees on the floor of his car, leaving kisses on the length of his dick and occasional "kitten" licks on his tip. taking your sweet time teasing him and making it more painful each moment you passed without doing anything further. the growns you'd hear of him, making your core drip to the carpet of his car, due to your lack of underwear. whenever he'd to push your head so you could take him further into your mouth, you'd shake your head and shot him a disapproving look and he'd quickly let go. after a while of teasing him, you decided to fully take him in your mouth. he almost came when your warm mouth came into contact with his dick. your movements slow and steady. keeping him guessing your next movement. he knew not to try you, either. but when you felt his dick twitch in your mouth, you decided it was time to let go. you had brought him to such point of overstimulation and overwhelm that he could feel tears spill from his eyes. sat perched up on his lap with your legs spread, your skirt so shirt, giving him a view of your pantie-less pussy, he wanted to cry. so, when you finally leaned in to kiss him, he sighed in relief. your lips moving so hungrily against each other, his kiss so bruising. you could feel his hands grab the bottom of your tight crop top and pull it off your head. hands immediately going to grab at your breasts, meanwhile kissing and sucking your collarbones. then, he went down to suck your nipples, paying equal attention to both of them, his hands dropping to play with you clit. your pornographic moans filling the silence of his car. when you pulled his hands away to replace them with his dick he was gone for. he came almost immediately, as expected. but that didn't stop you. you weren't gonna stop if you didn't get to cum. so you eagerly moved on his dick trying to reach your high. your breasts jumping up and down on his face, a sight he wishes he could see every waking second of his life. that fueled him to thrust up inside you, not being able to resist but play with your tits once more. kissing and sucking. "you're so perfect, baby. no one could compare to you, my love." he said as he pulled from your tits and looking up at you with a lust filled gaze. both of you came to a high eventually. completely spent from your actions. "you love this side of me, don't you?" you accused matt, he couldn't help but let out the biggest smile "mhm yeah really turns me on how crazy you can get.", "oh, is that so?" "yes, i love my sweet kind girlfriend but baby you need to let out more the insane girl only i get to see."

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader

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fadingdaggerr · 1 year ago

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would that i

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: melissa knew what love should look like, and learned what it shouldn’t be. learning what it actually is takes time | 3.4k

translations: nonna/nonno (grandma/grandpa), t’amu (i love you) | reminder that sicilian is slightly different from italian in dialect

warnings: allusions to cheating (minimal), allusions to unhealthy relationships (minimal), making up my own melissa lore bc i’m so normal about her, kissing/making out

note: a little bit of this was an homage to my grandparents, the people that showed me what love should be. thank u and love u

When Melissa was in sixth grade, her teacher assigned a two-page essay on what they thought of when they pictured love. The moment Mrs. Erikson said this, Melissa knew she was going to write about her Nonna and Nonno.

Every morning, Nonna made breakfast and coffee, she packed Nonno’s lunch, and always left a note that said T’amu in her flowy cursive. Every evening, Nonno brought in the laundry off the line and folded it while Nonna made dinner. Even when they fought, there was never a loss of their kiss good morning, goodbye, and good night. Only on anniversaries was Nonno allowed in the kitchen, and they’d dance while sauce simmered on the stovetop. Love between them seemed easy and gentle. Melissa spent every Saturday night and Sunday morning across the street at their house, and every time she found something to add to her list of what love looked like and how it should be.

Melissa thought she had found love with Tommy Adkins in eighth grade. She’d even bought a new dress to wear to autumn formal, pink and ruffled and perfect. By the time she was ready to leave, her face almost hurt from the amount of times she redid her makeup so that Tommy would call her beautiful instead of bangin’ for once. That night she watched him dance with Jennifer Milano with a half-baked excuse of him “not wanting to kiss a chick with braces.” Melissa cried for two hours while Nonna told her she was better off, a bowl of pastina pushed her way. She forgot about him by the time Monday rolled around.

High school boyfriends came and went, but in college Melissa fell in love for the first time. A true, deep love with a firefighter-in-training that knew her neighbor. Everytime Joe visited Brian, he stopped across the hall to see Melissa, leaned against the doorway with an easy smile. He was charming, respectful, and funny, everything she had been looking for. Two months after she graduated, he dropped to one knee and she jumped into his arms. They moved from their apartment to a home in south Philly. Melissa worked during the day, and Joe started night shifts at the fire station for the extra pay.

Night shifts began to extend, and Melissa never saw him. He’d eat the plate she’d prepared in the fridge and leave the dirty dish on the counter. Dirt and ash from his boots tracked across her rugs and carpets, scuff marks in her living room. What almost killed her was the dirty cast iron skillet left in the sink. When she brought anything up, he’d deflect and leave. Every now and then, he came home with flowers “just because.” But then flowers began to follow every extra long night, and she could smell the floral perfume that didn’t belong to her and didn’t match the flowers. It took her months to say anything, and all she was met with was eyes that couldn’t look at hers.

Melissa began to think that what her grandparents had could never be hers. A loving life was in the cards, and Joe had only solidified this. She stayed at Barbara’s that night.

—

A few years later, her perspective was changed when a new fourth grade teacher joined the staff mid-term. Never in her years had she allowed someone in so easily, allowed them to be her friend and not just a coworker. Somehow, in two years, Melissa realized she’d never felt so cared for and loved by anyone.

—

“Is there a chance I could pour a cup of coffee before you start bursting my ear drums?” Melissa says when Jacob and Janine start babbling behind her about something she didn’t care about at 7:30 on a Friday morning. Ever since she turned onto the street the school is on, a headache had been growing steadily. Staying up late to finish grading was the worst idea she’s had all month. The two teachers cringe slightly, lowering their volume. When the door opened again for you and Barbara to enter chatting with each other, volume lowering at the sight of Melissa sat at the table with fingers pressed to her temples. She hears a bag drop on the table quietly, opening one eye to see you trying to be as quiet as possible as you dig around.

When you finally stop, you pull out a bottle of ibuprofen and pass it to her. She waves it off, muttering a don’t need it. When you don’t reply, she peers up to see you still holding the bottle out with an expectant look on your face. You shake the bottle, “don’t suffer just to look tough.”

“Melissa Ann, take the damn pills,” Barbara orders from her seat, spooning some sugar into her coffee.

“I don’t need ‘em,” she mumbles out again.

You push your hand forward more, “please. If not for yourself, for your students. You’re irritable when you have a headache.” Barbara chuckles and sends a knowing look to Melissa. Janine and Jacob, on the other hand, turn and look at you, fully expecting the red head to make some harsh reply or threat back to you. All she does is puff out a laugh and grab the bottle from your hands. She decided not to remark on the weird looks she was getting from the peanut gallery.

When getting the kids ready for recess, she sees you peering around the corner to the doorway. She holds a finger to ask you to wait, and gets a double thumbs up in return. After zipping many jackets and helping with gloves, she watches the little eagles run outside in the chilly autumn air. As she walks back into her classroom, she sees you sitting in her chair waiting patiently for her. “You know, I don’t let anyone sit in my seat,” she jokes as approaches.

“Good thing I’m not just anyone, now am I?” you joke, standing to meet her.

She fights her smile as she answers quietly, “no, you’re not.” She takes a second to breathe when she sees a grin cross your lips at her comment, “we still on for dinner at mine tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” the grin on your face growing, the giddy feeling in Melissa’s chest with it. You loop your arm with hers and walk towards the lounge.

When Melissa opens the front door, you expect a greeting, but instead you get a groan as she stomps back to the kitchen. Dropping your bag and shrugging off your coat, you walk into the kitchen, placing the box of pastries on the table. Melissa returns to angrily rummaging through the refrigerator, desperately trying to find something. It wasn’t until two hands pulled her back by the shoulders, turning her around. She relaxes into your touch, closing her eyes.

“I’m out of basil,” she says through a sigh.

“Want me to go to the store?” you ask, wanting to remove any stress from her.

“No,” Melissa answers as she opens her eyes, “you just got here, that wouldn’t be fair.”

You laugh, “we could go together. Or we can just be lazy, order a pizza, and not get off the couch.”

“Second one,” she sighs out, pulling away to clean up the dishes she took out. While she’s distracted, you take the time to call in the order, pay, and tip over the phone so that Melissa won’t even have the chance to say herself.

“If there’s pineapple on there, I’m kicking you out,” she yells from the kitchen after she hears you hang up.

“No, veggie. And yes, I asked for no mushrooms. One of these days though, I’ll convert you to being a pineapple woman,” you joke tilting your head back to see her standing behind you, “plus, you wouldn’t dare kick out the person who brought you zeppole.”

She gets closer, leaning over with her hands holding the backrest on either side of your head, “is there chocolate sauce?” The excitement was evident in her tone, bringing butterflies to your stomach. You can’t form words with her standing over you and smiling like that, so you just nod.

Later into the night, the TV played Weeds while you sat in comfortable silence, only breaking it when you both repeated the same joke out loud every now and then. Your legs were thrown over her lap, her fingers playing with the folding fabric of your jeans as she watched the screen. Her subconscious drew her attention toward you, eyes tracing over smile lines and the glowing reflection in your eyes from the TV. She watches you lean forward to grab a zeppole, ready to offer it to her. It’s only then that you catch her stare.

“You okay?” you ask, turning and scooting closer to give her your full attention.

She gives a quick squeeze to your leg, “yeah, hon. I’m better than okay.” She feels even better when you lean into her, placing your head on her shoulder. She drops her head to yours, a deep breath leaving her as she finally relaxes fully for the first time all day.

—

Some time between then and now, things had changed, Melissa wasn’t exactly sure when. At some point the Friday dinners turned into Saturday plans, then Sunday since the farmer’s market was open, no other reason. Breakfast on those days translated to bringing coffee to each other at work, ignoring the questioning gazes of other staff members as she passed you your coffee, despite having never asked how you took it. What had started with you sleeping on the couch when the night grew later, migrated to the spare bedroom.

On a Sunday night, it changed again. You watched the tail end of an Eagles’ game while sitting in her bed after helping grade book reports. As always, your head rested on her shoulder with her own resting on yours. Anytime something that wasn’t a point being scored happened, she explained it to you, though she knew not a thing she said would help make sense of it. It didn’t matter to you, all you wanted was to hear her voice and have her attention.

“Your bed is comfy,” you mutter when the commercials begin before the last quarter.

A smile crosses her lips, “treated myself to a good mattress when I kicked bozo out. Glad you approve.”

“You deserve nice things,” you say as you settle into her more, and through a yawn add, “the best things.”

That night, you’d both fallen asleep slumped against the headboard, leaning into each other for comfort.

Melissa woke up to a rhythmic thumping under her ear and a hand in her hair gently playing with amber waves. The small smile that came to her lips would have been foreign to her if she wasn’t so comfortable, the content feeling in her chest would be almost alarming. When her eyes cracked open, she recognized her bedroom and sheets. She groaned into the cold morning air, and the hand moved from twirling the ends of her hair to scratching her scalp, making her tuck into the warmth beneath her even more.

“Good morning,” you rasp out, having only been awake a little longer, the only response being another groan. She finally rolls off of you, much to your dismay, and sits up on her elbows, looking at you with sleepy, squinted eyes.

“It’s Monday,” she grumbles.

You chuckle, grabbing her glasses off the nightstand for her, “fine, just morning then.”

Something about this morning felt different to Melissa. You’d never spent the night on a school night, let alone sleep in her bed, but that wasn’t what shook her. It wasn’t you making her coffee, sipping it to make sure it tasted right before handing it to her. It also wasn’t that you turned off her alarm and woke her up yourself without making her ears bleed. She thought it could be that you’d opened the door for her on the way out, or how you offered to drive her to and from work to make up for staying late, but not that either.

Maybe it was how she didn’t want to get out of bed, or how her coffee tasted better than any time she’d made it herself. Or how she hadn’t slept that peacefully in twenty years. It could have been how much she enjoyed being driven to work, and having full control of the songs you listened to on the way there, or the fact that she sped ahead to open a door for you this time. She doesn't have time to dwell on it once she gets to her classroom, a knock on the doorframe comes the second to place her purse on the desk.

“I thought you weren’t in today, I didn’t see your car in the parking lot,” Barbara says as she walks in.

Without looking up from her bag as she pulls out folders, Melissa answers, “I got a ride in.”

“Did you now?” Barbara asks with an amused tone. “And would that someone happen to be the fourth grade teacher that practically lives with you?”

“We don’t live together,” Melissa says incredulously, “we just fell asleep, so we drove in together. It’s not a big deal, it’s not like we’re actually together.”

Barbara can’t hide her laugh, “you fell asleep? Both of you? And where was that?” Melissa only mumbles back, so Barbara presses, “where did you both sleep, Melissa?”

“My bed,” Melissa finally says a little louder, but not much. She wants to send her head through a wall knowing that Barb just figured her out.

“Oh, girl. You are in deep,” Barbara says with a smirk. After she leaves the room, the spiral in Melissa’s head goes faster.

Said spiral carries her through lunch, and only stops when you sit across from her and stare at her for a moment. Her face contorts in a what? look before you reach across the table and brush your fingers through her hair. When you pull back, there’s a purple string from the third graders’ projects between your fingers. Barbara kicks her from under the table, and she kicks back with equal force. They both see you look at them weird, before brushing it off and going back to getting your lunch out. Barbara cocks her head to you, staring at the red head, silently telling her to do something. The look the kindergarten teacher gets back replies not now.

When the end of the day rolls around, Melissa is anxious for your eventual arrival in her doorway, keys swinging around your pointer finger. All she could think about since you parted ways this morning was your hands in her hair and your heartbeat under her ear. She hadn’t felt so content and so at peace in so long, the feeling was so new that it almost scared her. Melissa had to remind herself that this was about you, not anyone else. You’d never hurt, belittled, or offended Melissa, you’d never made it your mission to anger or disregard her, nor had you ever tried putting yourself before her. She knew that feeling this way about you shouldn’t scare her, but it did.

The sound of keys and footsteps in the hallways alerted her to your approaching presence, making Melissa quickly rise to her feet and grab her things, realizing she’d been spaced out since the last student left. As she predicted, you stood there spinning your keys, smile growing when she turned toward you. It drops slightly when you see her smile not reach her eyes. “Ready?” you ask.

“Sure, yeah,” she clears her throat, “let’s go.”

You can tell her mind is running into overdrive as you pull onto her street. When you park in the driveway, you unbuckle to turn in your seat and face her.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She turns to you with a scrunched face, “what are you, 90?”

You shrug and point to her sleeves, “you’re thinking. You play with the thumb holes when you think.” She’d curse you for noticing if it didn’t make her heart clench. “You don’t have to tell me,” you add, “but I’ll listen, if you want.”

She looks at you for a moment, surrendering with a, “wanna come in?” You only answer by taking your keys out of the transmission, hopping out, and opening the door for her.

The discussion gets put on hold while Melissa heats up leftovers from the night before. She carries both bowls out to the living room where you’re turning on the TV back on for background noise. As Melissa sits down, she faces toward you and you mirror her pose. “Sorry I was acting weird,” she mumbles before taking a bite.

You shake your head, “you’re only allowed to apologize when you’ve done something wrong. Thinking isn’t doing something wrong.” When she doesn’t speak again, you offer up something else, “Ava almost had a heart attack over you this morning.”

She looks at you confused, “were we wearing the same shade of green again?”

“No. She thought you didn’t come to work this morning cause your car wasn’t there, was going off about how she was going to have to sub because there’s still a shortage in the area,” you laugh, “I had to tell her I drove you in, which also ended me in a twenty minute interrogation during my prep period.”

“What sort of interrogation?” she asked, already nervous.

You look down the bowl in your lap as you speak, poking the food around, “the kind where she asks for a detailed account of my whole weekend. Weird amounts of detail too, mealtimes, where I slept, where we went, what shows we watched.”

“What’d you tell her?” Melissa can feel fear creeping into her bones.

“That we went to the farmer’s market, watched sitcoms, and I slept in the guest room,” you answer truthfully, “and what did you say to Barbara?” Her head snaps to you, you lean your head to the side, “she stopped by to ask me about my weekend, she seemed a little too excited to see me if you hadn’t spoken to her first.”

Melissa moves to place her bowl on the coffee table before looking back to you, “she asked why we drove in together. I said we fell asleep, and she asked where we fell asleep. Might’ve told her you slept in my bed.”

“It’s impossible to lie to her,” you say as you copy her move. You’re silent for a moment, then finally ask, “what were you thinking about?”

She takes in a deep breath and exhales to calm her nerves, “this morning. This whole weekend, but mostly this morning.” She glances up, and sees your face had dropped, worry setting in, and she’s quick to revise her statement, “in a good way. This morning, this weekend, they meant a lot to me.”

At her words, your lips stretch into a smile, “it meant a lot to me, too.” She can see you internally question saying the next part, “and you. you mean a lot to me, a crazy amount.”

It’s her turn to smile like an idiot now, a pretty blush covering her cheeks, “you mean a crazy amount to me, too. Being around you it’s... It’s easy. I like being with you.”

“I do, too. Sometimes, when I’m here I almost forget I live somewhere else. The second I step inside and I’m with you, I don’t know, leaving just feels wrong,” you say honestly, eyes flickering over her face as you speak, scanning for a rejection you won’t find.

“Waking up to you was nice,” Melissa mumbles, “you’re a pretty good pillow, if I do say so myself.”

Your airy laugh makes her heart race, it goes even faster when you lean in to reply, “I wouldn’t mind waking up that way again... and again, and again.”

She matches you lean in, smiling, “yeah?” Your noses are almost touching, she can feel your breath just barely touching her face. Her eyes flick to yours and see you looking back, faint lines forming as your lips turned upward as her gaze.

“Being with you makes sense,” you say quietly into the space between you, eyes flicking to her lips then back up.

Her hand moves up to your cheek, warm hands and cool rings holding with gentle affection. Olive eyes look into yours for permission, but your answer is closing the space between you. Her other hand flies to hold your neck, your hands holding her wrists. They slide from her arms to her waist, pulling her closer and crawling beneath her shirt to rest on her skin. She takes the chance to straddle your lap as her tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking for the instantly granted entry. Her lips were soft, savoring the feeling of yours against hers, committing it to memory.

Your arms tighten around her, holding her as if she’s this precious thing, and it makes her only give more into you. Her lips slow, and you can almost feel the love she’s trying to convey in her action. But your lungs can only survive so long, and she pulls her lips away, resting her forehead against yours.

“Stay?” she whispers through her breaths as she recovers.

“Wasn’t planning on leaving,” you mumble back, dazed from her kiss. You duck foreward, hugging her as she still sits in your lap. Her arms circle your shoulders, hearing you mumble into her neck, “I love you.”

She presses a kiss to your head, “I love you.”

Melissa’s heart beat against your ear, calm and steady. The smell of her perfume and honey shampoo flooded your senses, making you nudge into her further. You tilted your head, lips pressing softly to the skin of her neck, moving upwards back to her lips, pressing a long, sound kiss there. You pull away to look at her, smoothing back copper strands.

“Is it too early to go lay in bed for the rest of the night?” you ask quietly.

She huffs a laugh, “I was gonna suggest the same thing.”

By the fifth episode of Weeds, Melissa noticed your breathing even out. She peered down at you where you lay curled into her side with your head on her chest, arm slung over her middle, lips slightly parted. She presses a kiss to your head as she shuts the TV off, and lays there to just bask in you being with her. She’d never felt so adored, so cared for, so at ease. This is was it was supposed to be.

feedback appreciated as always <3

title from would that i by hozier (i’m sure everyone knew that. we’re all gay here)

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #lgbtq #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

Note

Congratulations on reaching 2k followers :) Could I possibly request maybe one of Eddie’s fantasies of babysitter reader pre As You Wish?

I would just like to say that AYW is now officially my favorite verse to write smut in, so thank you for this request lol.

In the same universe as As You Wish

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral m and f receiving, male masturbation, breeding kink

Words: 4.6k

The highlight of Eddie’s day was coming home from work. Hands down, it was the part of the day that consistently brought him the most joy. He enjoys his job, likes his coworkers, and takes pride in his work, but coming home to his kids beats all. There was another reason Eddie loved walking into the house after work, but he’d never admit it to anyone. He’s still barely able to admit it to himself without his stomach twisting with guilt, but when he walks in the front door and sees you there, he feels like a teenager coming face to face with their crush. The smile you always give him when he comes home makes his knees feel weak and he swears he forgets his own name. Truthfully, he didn’t even feel this way as an actual teenager when he started dating Brittany.

Eddie pulls onto his street, eyes hungrily searching for your used gold Hyundai Elantra in his driveway. But it’s not there. Instead, Brittany’s red Toyota Camry sits in its place. Eddie lets out an audible groan as he pulls up next to it in the driveway. Why couldn’t this be a day she got out of work early but decided to go to one of her boyfriends’ places? It sounds twisted, even to him, that he’d prefer his wife went to see one of the many guys that she’s having an affair with rather than be home, but this had been going on for so long that Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore. He couldn’t even pinpoint when he stopped loving her, but she certainly made it easy to stop.

Taking a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for seeing the witch, he gets out of the car and heads to the front door. It’s chaos when he steps inside. Luke and Brittany can be heard down the hallway, screaming at one another, and Ryan is sitting on the floor of the living room with the television volume turned up an ungodly amount – probably to drown out the fighting.

“Daddy!” Ryan calls, getting up off the floor and throwing himself at his father. Eddie is covered in grease and oil – more so than usual – but he can tell Ryan needs comfort and that’s worth having to scrub extra hard at the little boy’s clothes to get the stains out. He scoops his son up in his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, buddy. What’s going on?” he asks.

“Mom’s mad cause Luke backtalked,” Ryan says.

Eddie sighs and nods his head. “Okay. You finish your homework?”

The question makes Ryan smile. He proudly tells his dad that he did – with your assistance. The mere mention of your name has Eddie smiling as well as desperately wishing he’d gotten to see you before you left.

“Turn the tv down, okay, bud?” Eddie asks as he sets his oldest son down. Ryan agrees with a nod of his head, going to do as his father asked. Eddie lets out another sigh as he makes his way down the hallway, where he can now tell the shouting is coming from Luke’s room.

“You will not talk to your mother that way!”

“You yelled at me first!”

“That doesn’t give you the right to scream at me!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eddie says as he walks into the room. “What’s going on?”

Luke immediately runs over and hugs Eddie’s leg, hiding his head behind his father’s body. Eddie pats his son’s head and raises his eyebrows at Brittany.

“Your son,” she starts off, already boiling Eddie’s blood, “thinks it’s okay to back-talk me.”

“I just said I didn’t want veggietables with dinner!” Luke shouts, not meaning to yell, just trying to be heard over his mother.

Brittany throws her hands in the air as if this was some grave sin that the little boy committed. It’s another moment where Eddie’s torn. Parents are supposed to have a united front against their kids, but what is he supposed to do when his wife is batshit crazy?

“Luke, we’re going to have vegetables with dinner,” Eddie tells him, running his fingers through the boy’s curls. “Go play with Ryan in the living room, okay?”

The five-year-old doesn’t hesitate, taking the chance to escape the room and get away from his mom. Eddie rests his hands on his hips, widening his eyes as he looks at Brittany.

“What the hell, Britt?”

She rolls her eyes and pushes past Eddie out of the room. Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose before following her out and into their shared bedroom.

“You always take their side,” Brittany huffs out.

“Am I supposed to yell at a five-year-old little boy because he doesn’t want to eat vegetables for dinner?”

“You should take my side!” she yells.

“But you’re wrong.”

She lets out a groan and rifles through her nightstand before pulling out a tampon, shoving it in Eddie’s face instead of a finger like she usually would, as she continues her tirade. “I don’t need to take this from all of you! Men.”

Well, the tampon explained why she wasn’t visiting one of her boyfriends right now. Eddie knew better than to blame any of her sour mood on her period though; she’s always like this.

“Didn’t you send the other woman who was here home?” Eddie asks sarcastically as he gathers some fresh clothes to change into.

“Ugh, her,” Brittany huffs, and this seems to piss Eddie off most of all. “If the kids didn’t like her so much – and I still don’t understand why they do – she’d be long gone.”

“Why?” Eddie asks, too dumbfounded to add anything beyond that.

“She’s too…” Brittany trails off.

Kind? Smart? Beautiful? Funny? Good with the boys? Not demonic like you? Eddie’s mind finishes for her.

“Annoying,” Brittany finishes. Eddie rolls his eyes as he swipes up a pair of boxers. He bites his tongue, a million acidic things wanting to spill from his mouth.

“Whatever,” Eddie settles on. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Guess I’m making dinner?” Brittany asks.

“You were home first!” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. There’s no point trying to argue or reason with her. He’ll never win. “You can make dinner, order a pizza, or I can make dinner when I’m out of the shower.”

He doesn’t give his wife a chance to answer, walking out of the bedroom and locking himself in the bathroom. Eddie tosses his clothes on the counter and runs his hands over his face, letting out a deep groan. Making sure the water is turned up all the way to scalding, Eddie strips himself of his clothes and steps into the shower. The hot water runs over his tense muscles, managing to relax him a bit as dirt and grease begin to lift away. He grabs the bar of soap, the lavender smell meeting his nose as he rubs it over his body.

Fuck Brittany, he thinks to himself. Not that I’ve done that in forever. Not that I want to, honestly. Who the fuck does she think she is? Calling you annoying? Eddie thinks you might be the least annoying person he knows, honestly. There hasn’t been a moment you’ve been around that Eddie wanted you to go. Or at least, not because he didn’t want you around. There have been times he wanted to shield you from Brittany though, and so for your own sake, he tries to get you to leave. If Brittany was smart, she’d be jealous, Eddie continues to think. Annoying? Fuck, you’re not annoying. You’re incredible. The sweetest person, the loveliest person. A really fucking sexy woman. The thought has Eddie’s dick twitching. He peeks his head out from behind the curtain to make sure he locked the door. Finishing washing his body up quickly, he puts the soap down and wraps his hand around his cock. Shit, his fingernails still had dirt underneath them. Eddie would make sure to clean that out before he’d put his hands on you. Wonderful, delicate, you. The oil under the nails of his rough hands makes Eddie think of you coming to see him at work. You’d been there a time or two before because you’d been having car trouble. But what if you were there for another reason?

Eddie’s the only one in the garage, under the hood of a rusted old car with the sleeves of his blue coveralls pushed up to his elbows, when he hears footsteps coming closer.

“We’re closed,” Eddie calls to whoever it is.

“Aww,” a sweet voice pouts. A voice he’d know anywhere. “And here I came all this way just to visit you.”

He comes out from underneath the hood and tosses his wrench on the pile of tools lying next to him before he turns around and sees you. You’re wearing the short denim skirt that always drives him wild, and one of his red and black flannel shirts over a white tank top, the flannel tied up just underneath your breasts.

“You came to see me?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

Turning your head to look around the garage, empty except for the unfinished cars in the bay, you nod and take a few steps closer to him. “Only one here, aren’t you? Can’t stop thinking about you, Eddie.”

Delicate, soft hands come up to grip his coveralls and you look up at Eddie through your thick eyelashes. Both of you are breathing faster than usual, your cleavage moving up and down with every breath.

“Well, what can I do for you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, hands coming to rest on your hips. A smile quirks up on your lips, both at the question and at his hands on you.

“Fuck me?” you ask, making your voice sound as soft and innocent as possible.

“You sure, baby?” Eddie asks.

Biting your lip, you nod your head at him, removing your hands from his chest so you can untie the flannel and let it fall from your shoulders. “Please, Eddie? Want you so bad. So, so bad.”

“Who am I to deny a pretty girl what she wants?” Eddie asks before leaning down and attaching his lips to yours. Your arms instantly come up to encircle his neck and Eddie uses his grip on your hips to pull your body flush against his.

A shiver runs down Eddie’s spine as your small hands slide down his shoulders and to the zipper of his coveralls. You pull it down agonizingly slowly, Eddie’s tongue delving into your mouth as you work. He takes his hands off of your hips to shuck the coveralls from his frame and you pull back from the kiss to push the article of clothing down his hips and down his legs. When you stay down on your knees, looking up at him with your beautiful eyes, he feels like he might combust. Eddie uses his booted foot to kick the discarded flannel towards you so you can kneel on that instead of the hard garage floor.

“Such a gentleman,” you purr as your hands pop the button on his jeans. Eddie feels like time stands still as you drag his zipper down, feeling like you touching his dick can’t happen soon enough. His eyes are trained on your face as you pull down his boxers and his stomach clenches in pure want as he sees you lick over your lips as your eyes stay glued to his cock. “Fuck, Eddie. You’re even bigger than I thought you’d be.”

“Thought about me, princess?” He’s amazed at how normal his voice sounds as his hands scramble behind him to grab onto the car he had been working on.

“Mhmm,” you hum. You reach out and let your index finger trail down the vein on the underside of his cock. “Every time I touch myself. Wishing it was your fingers in me. Mine are too small.” The pouting look you give him, finally dragging your eyes away from his impressive length, has his breath hitching. “But I’ve seen your hands. I stare at them. Looking at the rings on your thick fingers, hoping you’d keep them on while you stretch me out.” You push up on your knees and let your spit drip down onto Eddie’s aching member before you wrap your hand around him.

A guttural moan comes from Eddie’s throat, bringing a satisfied smirk to your lips as you work your hand up and down his shaft. You gather the precum beading on the head, mixing that with your saliva as you jerk him. Eddie feels like he’s in Heaven. Like the hood of the car must’ve fallen and crushed him, because you’re making him feel better than he thought possible.

“Don’t know if I can fit all of you in my mouth,” you say, a frown on your pretty features. “But I’ll do my best.” With that, you lean in and lick over the pink aching head, eyes looking into Eddie’s as you do. You giggle when he groans through clenched teeth, the sound making his head fuzzy. Your lips close around the tip, and you start to bob your head, taking a little more of him in your mouth each time.

“Damn, baby you look pretty like this,” Eddie says. You moan around him, vibrations only adding to his pleasure, and you reach up for his hand. Eddie takes his left hand from the car and lets you put it in your hair, and when you squeeze your fingers around his, he takes the hint and grabs a handful of your hair in his fist. A whimper comes from your throat, causing Eddie to buck his hips forward.

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby,” Eddie says when you choke around him. You pull off of his cock and look up at him with tears leaking from your eyes, makeup starting to get smudged.

“Don’t be sorry. Want you to fuck my throat.” Immediately returning your mouth around his dick, Eddie tightens his hold on your hair and starts to thrust his hips. He watches himself disappear between your lips, enjoying the wet warmth of your mouth. When the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, Eddie throws his head back with a groan, hand tightening both on the car and in your soft hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart. God, as much as I love your mouth, I want your pussy.”

You let him fall from your mouth, pretty pink lips twisting into a pout.

“Didn’t even get to suck on your balls,” you say.

“Next time,” Eddie says as he huffs a laugh. He reaches down and helps you stand up, lips attacking your neck as he slides his hands under the hem of your tank top. The moans and whimpers you let out as Eddie secures his lips over your pulse point go straight to his cock, twitching between your two bodies. Fingernails scratch lightly over Eddie's abdomen as you slip your hands underneath his t-shirt, moving up to rub over his chest. He breaks away from your neck to toss his shirt off, followed by your tank top. The black lace bra you're wearing makes Eddie want to fall to his knees. Instead, he goes back to pressing kisses against your neck, trailing them up to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Can I touch you, baby?” Eddie whispers against your hair.

“Uh huh,” you whimper out. He wastes no time in cupping your breasts in his palms, squeezing over the thin material. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, teeth grazing against your earlobe. “You like when I touch you?”

“Yes, Eddie. Love it so much.” You reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting the silky straps slide down your shoulders. Eddie immediately rids you of the garment and palms your bare breasts. His thumbs flick over your pebbled nipples, making you arch your body into his touch.

Reluctantly pulling his hands away from you, Eddie turns around and closes the hood of the car behind him. Turning back to you, Eddie wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, setting your ass on the hood. His lips attach to your nipple, thumb coming up to play with the other one. Your hands go to his hair, tangling in his curls as his tongue laps at your breast.

The soft skin of your thighs under his hands feels like silk as he moves his hands from your knees up underneath your skirt. When his fingers come in contact with your bare pussy, Eddie moans around your nipple before pulling off the bud.

“No panties? You’re really fucking trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

The giggle you let out has him smiling adoringly at you before he captures your lips in another kiss, pushing your skirt up to bunch at your waist. Breathing heavily, you break apart and Eddie takes one of your legs, lifting it over his shoulder. You lean back on your elbows, the cool metal kissing your heated skin.

Eddie trails kisses up the inside of your thigh, your head dropping back just from the pleasure of that small act. Letting your other leg drop to the side, opening yourself up more to the sexy curly haired man, you lift your head back up to watch Eddie get closer to your core. His hot breath hits your bare sex and it sends a shiver up your spine.

“Eddie, please,” you whine.

“Please what, baby?” Eddie teases, pressing a kiss to the apex of your thigh.

“Please put your mouth on me.” The whimper that escapes your lips pushes Eddie over the edge; he needs to taste you. Already intoxicated by every part of you, Eddie leans in and licks a broad stripe from your hole up your clit.

“Fuck,” you pant out as Eddie does it again and again.

“Knew you’d taste good, baby,” Eddie says against your pussy. “But shit, you’re even sweeter than I thought.”

When you reach down to grip Eddie’s hair and give it a small tug, he moans against your clit, sending a vibration through your core that has you curling your toes. Tongue keeping a steady pace on your sensitive bundle of nerves, Eddie slips two fingers into your needy hole, making the pressure in your lower belly tighten. He curls those fingers upward, massaging against your inner wall and hits the spot that has you seeing stars.

“T-There,” you stutter out. “Shit, Eddie, right there.”

The way you say his name makes Eddie think more favorably about it than he has in his whole life. He’d be content to just hear you say his name over and over again.

Eddie thrusts his fingers so they hit the same spot repeatedly, tongue expertly working your cute little button.

“Close, baby,” you tell him, the pet name going straight to his cock. He feels your walls start to spasm around his fingers and the thought of you doing that around his dick almost has him coming right then and there. “Eddie, yes. Fuck! I-I’m gonna cum.”

It’s all the warning he gets before you’re soaking his fingers, your release drooling down his hand as well. Eddie pulls his mouth off your clit and presses soft kisses against your thigh as you come down from your high.

You lay back against the hood and windshield of the car, breasts heaving as you try and catch your breath. Eddie grins as he sees the fucked out expression on your face, staring up at the garage ceiling.

“How was that, gorgeous?” he asks, trailing his fingertips over your knees.

“Hardest I’ve ever cum,” you tell him with a dreamy sigh. You push yourself up and pull Eddie’s head down to yours, melding your mouths together. He licks into your mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, sliding down the car until your wet heat is pressing against his throbbing cock.

“Babe,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Don’t care,” you say as you wind your arms around his neck. “M’on the pill. Not that I’d mind having you knock me up, anyway.”

Eddie drops his head to your shoulder and lets out a whine. “Fuck, you can’t say shit like that and expect me not to want to keep you.”

“So, keep me,” you say with a shrug. When Eddie lifts his head to look at you, you’re biting your lip and looking at him with wide eyes.

“You want me to keep you forever?” Eddie asks in a quiet voice.

“Forever,” you affirm. “Keep me.” You press a kiss to his neck. “Fuck me.” Another kiss. “Knock me up.” Another kiss. “Marry me. Whatever you want, I’m yours.”

Eddie groans and presses his lips to yours and you reach down, lining him up with your entrance. He pushes into you, and you gasp against his mouth. Your ankles lock behind his back as Eddie slowly fills you up, inch by inch until he’s buried up to the hilt.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers in the air between you. “Feel so good. Pussy’s so fucking tight. Think you were made just for me, darling.”

All you’re capable of doing is whimpering in response. Eddie reaches deeper inside you than anyone else has before and you never want to feel less than this full again.

“M’so full, Eddie,” you whine.

“I know, baby,” he coos, his hips finding a steady rhythm. “I’ve got you.”

You drop your head down to his shoulder as he pounds harder into you, your fingers digging into his shoulders at the exquisite pleasure. The pressure is also building in your lower abdomen, tightening more and more. Eddie can tell as your nails dig into his skin, and he looks forward to seeing what kind of mark they leave there. It’ll only be fair for you both to have marks, since there’s already a nice purple bruise forming on the side of your neck.

Wanting to hit that sweet spot inside of you again, Eddie gently encourages you to lay back on the hood of the car so he can adjust the angle of his hips. You look so pretty like this, he thinks. Hair mussed up, mouth red and kissed bruised, lying in front of him – where his cock keeps burying inside of you – back arching and tits bouncing in time with his thrusts. You look perfect.

Eddie shifts his hips just slightly and on the next thrust your fingers are scrambling on the hood of the car, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. Smirking in satisfaction now that he’s found that magic spot, he reaches up and links your hand with his, giving you something to hold on to. His hips also begin to piston in and out of you at a relentless pace, repeatedly hitting your spot that has your eyes squeezed closed in pleasure.

“Fuck!” you cry out. “Eddie!”

He can feel himself getting closer, his release not far off as he tries to make you come a second time. By your body’s responses, he knows you’re close too.

“Eddie!” Every time you scream his name it’s like music to his ears. “Eddie, oh, Eddie!”

“Eddie!” Three loud bangs jerk Eddie out of his fantasy. “Dinner’s ready, Eddie! Are you done yet?”

Why Brittany has to yell when it’s only a two-inch-thick piece of wood between them, he’ll never understand. “Eddie!”

“Just a second!” he calls back. Brittany sighs and her footsteps disappear down the hall.

Eddie braces one arm against the shower wall, the other hand firmly grasping his painfully hard cock, and he squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to let the rest of the fantasy play out.

“Gonna come again,” you whine. Eddie uses the hand that isn’t holding yours to pull your body up until it’s pressed flush against his. You moan and whimper against his lips and Eddie knows he can die a happy man. Both of your hands go to his hair, and Eddie takes his newly freed hand down between your legs. He rubs tight fast circles over your clit, making your hips rock up to meet his thrusts.

As your orgasm starts to take over your body, you press your lips to Eddie’s, sharing a hot searing kiss full of tongues and hot breath. The waves of pleasure roll over you, the noises you're making the prettiest Eddie’s ever heard. Makes sense coming from the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. The sounds mixed with your sweet pussy clenching around his cock is his undoing. Eddie comes hard inside of you, painting your walls with his white release. His eyes squeeze shut as he rides out his high, chest heaving with heavy breaths, and sweat dotted along his forehead.

“Fuck,” you say. “You feel so good inside me. Never want you to pull out.”

Eddie opens his eyes but you’re not laying there in front of him. He’s not buried inside of you, he’s holding himself in his hand, his seed coating the shower wall and some of his own hand. Even though you’re not there though, the ecstasy he’s feeling from the orgasm and the warm fuzzy feeling floating around his abdomen are still because of you. Of how you make Eddie feel.

The hot shower water gets turned down a bit so he can rinse off the sweat that’s accumulated on his body and clean both the wall and hand free from his cum. He takes a deep breath and turns the water off.

Stepping out of the shower into the steamed-up bathroom, Eddie grabs the towel hanging on a hook and wraps it around his waist. He shakes his hair out like a wet dog, sending little splatters of water all around the small space. He dresses quickly, mostly so Brittany doesn’t come back around to yell again, and runs the towel over his hair.

Stepping out of the bathroom door, the rest of the house feels considerably cooler than the sauna of a bathroom. Eddie tosses the towel into the hamper in his bedroom and heads down the hall towards the kitchen.

Luke slides out of his room on his socks, knocking into Eddie’s leg. The little boy just giggles, looking up at his dad and taking his freshly cleaned hand into his own little one. Eddie can feel his son staring at him and he looks down to see big blue eyes staring back up at him.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“You took a shower?” Luke asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“That all you did since you came home?”

“Yeah, why?” Eddie repeats.

Luke shrugs. “You look happy.” He drops his dad’s hand and walks into the kitchen.

Eddie stands there in the hallway, sliding his hands into his pockets. He does feel the smile on his face now that Luke mentioned it. It keeps him from wanting to go into the kitchen because he’s sure Brittany will wipe it off his face in no time. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Picturing your pretty face makes his heart lurch in his chest and he knows he’s in trouble. But he can keep this a secret. He’s not going to tell anyone about these feelings. It’s just something he can keep inside of him and think about when he needs a smile. Or to get off.

#eddie munson #older!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #babysitter!reader #request #AYW #AYWS

1K notes · View notes

rockleeisbaeeee · 4 months ago

Text

Tw: angst ig, could be worst. Srry if there’s spelling mistakes.

——

I remember that summer night, when he promised me he wouldn’t forget me, he’d always love me, he’d wait for me.

Lies.

We kept contact for a week. Then nothing, never heard from him again, until.

“Atsumu miya, rookie athlete is now part of the Black Jackals.”

It had been a year since I returned to Japan when I heard it, my career brought me back here, like I knew it would. Like an idiot I texted him for one last time, that I was back, no response, now I know why, he was too busy focused on new people to even remember my name.

——

All those empty words left me forever scarred.

When I was young I dreamed of my happily ever after, getting married to an amazing husband, having kids and growing old together. That dream shattered the moment I saw him with a new girl is his arms on the tv a week later, he denied the relationship rumors, yet the picture was enough to prove that something did happen, he was fooling around while I grieved my shattered dreams, dreams that he was a part of, dreams he promised would become true, he lied.

——

Every day was a monote nightmare, I see him everywhere, my hate for him grows.

My career was taking slow, but firm steps. I always dreamed of being a journalist. I had started within the sports field, thanks to him, since we were supposed to be together, now it’s too late to focus on another field, I enjoyed watching people play though, their passion always made me feel alive. That was what one of the things I liked about him. Now I avoid writing or watching volleyball at all cost. But I knew one day I would have to, that day has come.

“Y/n the boss asks for you,” one of your coworkers said quickly when passing your desk. You went to your boss’s office, having a bad feeling in your gut. You knocked the door and entered, “you called for me sir?” Your boss was looking through some papers looking a bit stressed, “oh yes, you see we’re quite busy and we have no reporters left, I recommended you to the directors and we decided to let you interview the black jackals before their next game,” you froze, you knew you’d have to eventually see him, but never this directly. He wasn’t asking you so there’s no way you could refuse, the opportunity was too good anyways, you’d have to face your fear and see him, it’s fine, you can act as if you don’t remember, even if that was impossible, you could pretend. “Thanks for the opportunity, I’ll do my best.” You said bowing, he dismissed you so you went back to your desk.

I have to face him, there’s no backing out. Would he remember me? Probably not since last time we talked was five years ago, it was a flimsy love you too text, what a bitch. So far he’s acted like I don’t exist, like everything didn’t exist, so I’ll have to do the same.

I’ve gotten some attention in the sports world for my great work, but I doubt he’s ever read it. But that’s fine, the least he knows about me the better.

——

Two weeks later

You woke up, did your routine and went to work.

“Today is the big day! Aren’t you excited??” Lia, your best friend said when approaching your desk, she didn’t know about the thing you had with atsumu, you didn’t want anyone to find out and pity you, “yeah, it’s a great opportunity,” you said with a forced smile, honestly you weren’t feeling good, you felt like you were gonna vomit, but that feeling didn’t let you eat so you probably weren’t going to, “well, I’ll let you prepare, good luck, I know you’ll do good!!” she left to go back to her desk, her positivity got to you, it can’t be that bad, you’re worrying too much, if you just pretend to not know him it’ll be fine, right?

——

You were know standing in front of the gym, the nerves were eating you alive, but there’s nothing you can do now. Breathe, it’ll be fine, he doesn’t remember you. You think to yourself, but oh how wrong you were.

——

I don’t have motivation for part 2 of my oikawa fic so I came up with this, it will become a short series (maybe 3 parts) if anyone wants to be tagged let me know in the comments. Sorry if this feels weird, I made y/n speak in first person when talking to herself, but in third when describing the environment, I hope it’s not confusing 😓

I promise I’ll finish part 2 of the oikawa fic this week and get started with the next part of this one 🙏

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!!#angst #miya atsumu #hq atsumu #msby atsumu #atsumu angst #atsumu x you #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu x y/n #atsumu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x y/n #hq x reader #hq angst #atsumu

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blackypanther9 · 6 months ago

Text

Over my dead body ! – Father!Alastor x Son!Reader

WARNING!: Mention of drugs, cursing, name calling, Alcohol, mention of attempted murder AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

A/N: Yay ! Mimzy is back... *Note sarcasm* By the way this happened shortly after Alastor was healthy again. So M/n was still the same age as the last chapter. (Art belongs to rightful owner)

TAGLIST: @l0liamk @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @moiravim @meg-giry1 @wen01203

Words: 3 321

After Alastor was cured from his sickness and back on the job, he planned to go to Mimzy’s again, for a little conversation and some good old rye. He told M/n about it and he pretended to be happy, but he wasn't thrilled at all.

So he decided to do this for his Father only ONCE and then NEVER again. Mimzy was a Bitch.

At first the night at the Club went by superbly. But as soon as Mimzy wasn’t on stage anymore, she crawled over to him and Alastor.

“Alastor ! Long time no see, sweetheart ! Where have ya been ?!”, she asked happily.

“Oh you know, M/n got poisoned and almost killed last time we were here, so I decided to let a bit of grass grow over it and then I got sick ! Haha ! Where are ya at, these days, Mimzy, Dear ?”, Alastor asked.

M/n put on his fakest smile to please his Papa. He wanted to stab Mimzy.

She started to tell him all about what happened since he stopped coming for a while. Honestly...two years weren’t enough in M/n’s opinion... At some point Mimzy went to get Alastor and M/n a drink. His Papa looked at the boy.

“Remember Cher, what I drink is nothing for you. You are too young for it.”, the Radio Host reminded his Son.

“Yes, Papa. I remember.”

“Good boy.”

It wasn’t long until Mimzy came back, but she looked way too smug and excited as she gave Alastor his drink. M/n knew something was wrong, so he accidentally spilled his own drink.

“Oh no !”, M/n gasped in horror.

Alastor set his drink down quickly, not taking a sip and helped to dry the table. Nothing was left in his glass anymore and M/n gave his Father a pleading look.

“I-I’m sorry Papa. My hand was shaky and I must have lost my grip...”, he said in shame.

“It’s alright, Cher. Don’t worry your little head over it, it happens !”

The Radio Host looked at Mimzy.

“Mimzy, Dear ?”

“Yes, Al ?”

“Can you please get new napkins, while I will order a new drink for M/n ?”

“Of course, suga !”, she said and left.

“Can I have a hot chocolate, Papa ?”, M/n asked softly.

“Of course you can, Dear ! I’ll be right back, don’t leave the table !”

“I won’t.”, M/n promised, crossing his fingers behind his back.

“Good. I’ll be off !”

And with that Alastor was gone too. As soon as they were both out of sight, M/n snatched his Father’s drink and eyed it. He sniffed rye before and had a sip of it once too, thanks to his abusive parents that forced him to indulge in such. As soon as he looked at the rye, it looked off. He knew what Alastor loved for a type of rye and it was the one, sure, but the color looked a bit...off.

The boy looked around in the Club and spotted someone he knew. He got up and rushed over to the table with his Papa’s drink in his hand.

“Cole ! Cole !”, M/n called.

The man turned around and a wide smile split his face.

“M/n ! What are you doing here ?!”, he greeted back.

Cole McGenzy was another nice Coworker in his Father’s Radio Station. He was glad he found a familiar face.

“I’m here with Papa. But I need your help.”

“With what, Kiddo ?”

M/n gave the man Alastor’s drink.

“Some woman brought it to Papa and seemed awfully smug and excited about it for him to drink it. Could you give it a taste and tell me if it might have been a bad glass ? It’s supposed to be Papa’s favorite rye.”

The man chuckled and took the glass.

“Always looking out for Alastor, I see.”

“He decided to look after me when no one else did and I want to return the favor.”, M/n said shyly.

The man ruffled the boy’s hair and took a swig of Alastor’s glass of rye. For a while nothing happened.

“I think it’s fi-....oh Lord...”, the man suddenly grunted.

“Cole ? What’s wrong ?”, M/n asked worried.

“Ah...nothing, Kiddo. The drink was spiked though. Try to keep an eye out for Alastor tonight, yeah ?”

“O-okay. Are you sure you are alright ?”

“I am, kid. Just...go back to your table and keep watch, yeah ? I need to return home now.”

“O-okay...”

Cole got up, covering his crotch and then left, with a few dollars on the table he sat at. M/n returned to his own table, confused and worried. He swiped his Father’s spiked drink from the table, shattering the glass on the floor and acted like he didn’t do it. First Mimzy tried to kill him, now she tried to hurt his Papa...

‘Game on, Bitch...’, M/n thought darkly.

Soon enough Alastor returned with a hot chocolate for M/n. He looked around confused as he saw his drink missing and looked at his Son.

“M/n ? Do you know where my glass of rye went ?”

“Some drunk man swiped it off of the table, it is on the floor with shattered glass. You told me not to move, so I stayed here instead of leaving and looking for you.”, M/n lied swiftly.

Alastor didn’t seem to pick up on it as he nodded with his smile a bit more dim than before. He called over a waitress and asked for a glass of rye again, which she promptly noted down and rushed off to get for him. Mimzy came back, as the waiter was on the run to the bar, with napkins.

“I’m baaaack~!”

‘Please leave again and never come back, Bitch.’, M/n thought sourly.

“Hello and welcome back, Mimzy !”, Alastor greeted her.

She sat down with them again and they continued to talk. Cups of chocolate and glasses of rye later and they finally left the bar, going back home. M/n wanted to tell his Papa about the spiked drink and that it was Mimzy...but he didn’t have the heart to destroy his Papa’s trust like that with someone he knew longer than M/n. So he stayed silent, for now.

“Where did I put my keys ?”, Alastor asked confused the next week on Friday.

He searched high and low for his house keys in his Radio office. M/n looked at his Papa with worry.

“I don’t know, Papa. Maybe you misplaced them ?”

“Perhaps I did... It seems like we won’t be going to Mimzy’s after all tonight.”, Alastor sighed in sadness.

M/n felt bad, but no way in Hell will he ever allow his Father back there.

The next day Alastor planned to go to Mimzy’s again and M/n already knew how to avoid that. They were at the Radio Station and on Saturday’s Alastor only has 5 hours to work, instead of 9 to 12 hours. His work usually started at 6 in the morning and ended 18 o’ clock or even later. Why so long ? Because Alastor was mixed, he came from the Bayou, his previous Boss didn’t like him and the one he had currently wanted him to stay until night so she can try and get into his pants and because he brought a lot of money in. Did they pay him more for the ridiculous long hours ? Barely.

M/n emptied his Father’s left coat pocket, which held his car and house keys. He took them out and then told his Father softly that he was relieving his bladder, which the Radio Host dismissed him for.

Then M/n left and hid the car keys in a supply closet from three, behind a few cleaning supplies and the house keys he placed somewhere on the floor, almost behind a small shoe closet in the hallways, barely possible to be spotted. Then he returned.

-At the end of Alastor’s shift-

“Blazes ! Where are the car keys ?!”, Alastor huffed out in frustration as he continued to search for them.

“I don’t know, Papa. Where did you see them last ?”, M/n asked gently.

“Cher, they were lastly in my coat pocket. In my left one, like always.”

The boy looked at his Father for a while in concern.

“Are you sure they were there last ? Otherwise I am worried that someone stole them.”, M/n said softly.

Alastor growled in frustration.

“Are you sure, you didn’t take them and play me a fool, Son ?”

“I promise, I didn’t touch them, Pa.”, M/n swore.

Alastor couldn’t detect a lie in his Son’s voice either. Usually it wavered in nerves, but not this time... The adult sighed.

“Go to Tony while I am hunting down the keys, Cher. They have to be somewhere.”, the adult muttered, his smile wavering.

“Alright, Pa...”

M/n left and went for his Uncle’s office. He was off air for a while now and probably packed up to leave. Alastor searched for almost 2 hours now and couldn’t find his house and car keys. M/n felt bad, yet at the same time, it was funny.

Soon enough he entered Tony’s office and he spotted Francisco with Peter and Cole in there too. M/n waved gently.

“Apologies, if I interrupted you four... Papa sent me.”, M/n gently said.

“Come on in, Kiddo !”, Tony encouraged.

The boy carefully entered and shut the door.

“What did your Father sent you here for ?”, Peter asked.

“He can’t find his house and car keys so he sent me to Tony to be watched over, until he found them.”

Cole gave M/n a suspicious look.

“You made them disappear, didn’t you, M/n ?”, the man asked after a while.

The boy froze and stared at Cole, while the other three men looked at him in curiosity.

“I did no such thing.”, M/n denied with a wavering voice.

“Liar.”, Peter stated.

“Why would you do that to Alastor, M/n ?”, Tony asked with disappointment in his voice.

M/n looked down in shame.

“I....”, the boy couldn’t get it out.

Cole’s eyes widened as he recalled their last encounter in a speakeasy.

“Is it because of last week ? The spiked drink your Father received ?”, the adult asked.

The other three men snapped their heads to Cole, staring at him in shock.

“What ?!”, Peter yelled in shock.

“Excuse me ?!”, Francisco choked out.

“Mind repeating that ?!”, Tony yelled.

M/n flinched and nodded gently. Cole saw that and had a weird feeling in his gut.

“Do you know who did it ?”, Cole asked.

“Y-yes...”

“Did you tell Alastor ?”

“N-no...”

“Why not ?”, Tony asked now.

“Because that person is one of his friends. He knows them longer and I don’t want to ruin his trust and openness by telling him.”

There was silence for a while.

“You told me it was a woman, who looked way too smug as she gave him his drink.”, Cole pointed out.

“A woman too...”, Tony wheezed out in shock.

“What’s her name ?”, Francisco asked gently.

M/n looked at them and took a deep breath.

“Her name is Mimzy. She owns the speakeasy joint, if that’s true. She performs there as a singer and dancer too. She is pretty short and her voice isn’t all that great, but she is Papa’s friend. She brought him the spiked drink, smugly.”, M/n explained.

“Do you really think it was her then ?”, Peter asked.

“It wouldn’t surprise me.”, M/n replied dryly.

“Why ?”, Tony asked in concern.

The four boys could tell there was something M/n didn’t tell them. He looked at them in slight worry.

“Don’t tell Papa, please.”

“We promise we won’t. Now spill the tea.”, Cole assured.

M/n took a deep breath and then nodded.

“I think Tony remembers when Papa told him that I was once poisoned and by some miracle survived it until the next day and then Dr. Hugo pumped out my stomach, right ?”

The men nodded.

“Who didn’t hear it ? We were all worried sick.”, Francisco stated.

“But that happened two years ago. What does this have to do with anything ?”, Peter asked in confusion.

“Well....I never told Papa that I knew who did it. I met Mimzy for the first time two years ago, as I was 9 years old. She faked to be happy to meet me and we both pretended to get along in front of Papa, but as soon as he left for the bathroom, we both started to hiss at each other. She started it and called me a runt that Papa took in out of pity. I back talked and called her a Bitch. She told me that Papa belonged to her and threatened me that if I don’t disappear out of his life, she will make sure he will get rid of me. I threatened her back and told her that I will tell him everything and I never lied before, so who did she think Papa would believe. Sometime later she brought me my last glass of juice and it tasted different than any other the next day I felt really terrible and told Papa about the drink, he panicked and called Dr. Hugo and he wanted me as fast as possible in the hospital. After they pumped out my stomach I felt very weak, but better. My recovery took a bit, but it was alright.”, M/n shortly explained.

The four men stared at him, gob smacked.

“You should have told him.”, Cole stated darkly.

“I don’t want him to cut everyone off he is close with. He seems very close with Mimzy. Can you imagine, after he cut her off entirely, what will happen to you all ? He might be very distant and dismissive to you all. I don’t want that.”, M/n reasoned.

“He has a point. Al would do that.”, Tony deadpanned.

“We didn’t go there for these two years and last week was the first time in a while.”, M/n said.

“And she tried to pull something on Alastor this time...”, Peter added, getting the image.

M/n nodded.

“That’s why I make his things disappear, or just cause Papa to be unable to attend to the speakeasy. I don’t want this...harlot...to hurt my Father. I would never be able to live with myself !”

The men looked at each other and then nodded and looked back at M/n.

“Then count us in for all your mischief next time. We will help.”, Tony stated.

“Even if we have to go with Al to the speakeasy.”, Francisco added.

“Yo-you guys would ?”, M/n asked in awe.

“Of course we would. We may not be very big on giggle water, but one or two glasses hurt no one. Mostly not with friends.”, Peter told M/n happily.

“Also drinking with Alastor doesn’t sound so bad. And if we keep an eye on him anyways, why not ?”, Cole stated with a smile of his own.

“You guys are the best.”, M/n told them with a big smile.

“For Al, always. This man is such a gem.”, Tony chuckled out.

“Then I need your help today. Help me to keep Papa away from the speakeasy today. If you need help with anything, just get my Father. I am not ready to see Mimzy this soon again.”, M/n said.

“Leave that whole mess to us, Kiddo. Now let us help your Father to find his key sets.”

“The car keys are in the second supply closet in the main hallway, behind a window cleaner spray bottle and the house keys I put on the floor and shoved very close to the big shoe closet. They are hard to spot and almost behind the damn thing.”, M/n informed them.

“Noted. Let’s go boys.”, Cole said and pulled Peter with Francisco out of the office.

“Promise me that you will continue to look out for Alastor, M/n, okay ?”, Tony pleaded gently.

“I will never let my eyes stray from Papa.”, M/n swore.

“Good to hear, Kid.”

Alastor’s coat pockets had holes in them the next week. That just couldn’t do, so he had to go the tailor, who told him the unfortunate news that his favorite coat needed a few hours to be repaired. At least it wasn’t a day.

M/n snipped small holes into the Coat pockets and then pulled some loose threads, making the holes bigger and seem more natural. Alastor barely had his hands in his pockets so he couldn’t tell the difference, he could only suspect that his keys must have been stuck once or twice in his pockets and they caused the holes.

The day after that Alastor couldn’t go to the speakeasy, because Tony needed his help at his own home, to set up a new shelf, because his old one ‘broke’. Tony told M/n that he destroyed his own shelf just to get Alastor to come and help him with a new one.

The next time Alastor wanted to visit Mimzy, his dress pants ripped at the crotch area. M/n pulled some loose threats and it seemed that Alastor really believed that his pants were just a bit too old. Another visit to the tailor and again no Mimzy.

This went on and on for months. The Radio Host barely saw Mimzy. The few times he did see her, or got to the speakeasy was rare and he never came alone. Tony and Peter either came with him, wanting to let off some steam too with him, or Cole and Francisco went with him or M/n went with him or M/n and someone else from the four men went with him or just one of the four men walked with him. Alastor found it a bit suspicious, but he never minded it and brushed it off.

What the adult never noticed, was how the few times he was there, anything that happened on accident, was purely intended. Suddenly Peter spilled his own drink and Alastor rushed off to get some napkins and as soon as he returned Al’s drink was gone. Either it was on the floor, shattered, it fell over or the glass was just empty.

Whenever Tony was with the Radio Host, he had a few nerve problems and could fake them a bit. A shaky hand or a jolting leg was perfect. When he saw Mimzy smirking smugly, he already knew the drink for Alastor was spiked, so he jolted his knee so hard against the table that the drinks spilled over and he apologized each time in shame, mentioning his nerve problem. It was long cured but he never told anyone, he can still fake it well.

Francisco pretended to try and kill a fly, or another small bug he saw, and ‘accidently’ swiped Alastor’s drink over.

And Cole usually was such a savage that he snatched Al’s drink and just gulped it down. Claiming that he wanted to get a raise out of Alastor, which he never got. The adult didn’t even seem annoyed, just amused.

M/n tried everything and anything as soon as he knew the drink was spiked. They let Alastor at least once a month go to Mimzy’s, if they felt generous. There were times they kept him away from the joint for three months.

Over M/n’s dead body will Mimzy ever get a chance to drug his Father. This little Bitch wanted a war ? Now she had it.

Game. Fucking. On.

And M/n seemed to win.

Masterlist HERE !

#male!reader #fanfiction #father!alastor #Father!Alastor x Son!Reader #son!reader #human!alastor #alive!alastor #alive!reader #human!reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Father!Alastor x Child!Reader

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emmaleighsworld · 11 months ago

Text

Seriously?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: When your coworker ditches work early Steve is there to lend a helping hand.

Contains: just fluff here

Word Count: 1.7k

Steve’s taste in music had always been something his classmates raved about, even after he stopped hosting those huge parties. They always talked about how every time he’d host a party or let people hang out at his house he’d have the best, most popular, music on standby.

Although most of his favorite songs were fun, rock songs he could sing along to—and the occasional pop song—Steve also had a soft spot for some songs from the 60s and 70s. They brought him back to the simpler times of his childhood, back to before he had seen how complicated the world really was.

However, he usually liked to keep that information to himself because it was special to him. And since he kept that to himself and a few of his close friends, even if they liked poking fun at him for it—it was no surprise that two weeks after his graduation Tina had asked Steve if she could borrow his best summer-music tape for a party she was hosting while her parents were gone over the weekend.

Tina said she’d stop by Scoops after she was done with it, but her party was two weeks ago. So, that’s how Steve ended up walking across the mall towards Sam Goody’s after his shift, hoping that Tina would be on the closing shift.

That’s when Steve first saw you. You were wiping down the counters, humming along to a Supremes song that played over the store speakers, when he walked in.

Steve’s first thought was that music stores don’t usually play this type of music. Usually, it’s something fun and upbeat because that’s what they’re trying to sell.

Then Steve remembered that he’d seen you once before. A couple weeks ago, after his closing shift, he saw you in the mall parking lot. Well, truthfully, he’d heard you first. You were in your car singing along to an old Supremes song blasting from your car speakers with your windows down.

When he’d gotten to his Beemer, Steve watched as you drove past him in the lot, singing to your heart’s content. He remembered thinking how carefree you looked that night and how pretty he thought you were.

Steve had kept an eye out for you after that night but never had any luck finding you as his eyes searched the crowds of the mall each day during his break. Suddenly, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard that voice again—“Seriously?” He heard her say under her breath.

“Hey, sorry, but I already closed the register. We’re closed for today.” you said, “You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“Oh, no. I’m not here to buy anything.” Steve said looking around, “Do you know if Tina’s here tonight? She borrowed one of my tapes for a party and I just wanted to get it back.”

You laughed, Tina had left her shift early with her boyfriend after promising you an IOU for the next time you wanted to leave early.

“No, she’s not here. Left early with her boyfriend.”

“Seriously?” Steve asked.

You weren’t sure if it was his straightforwardness or if it was the way he kind of looked like he needed a friend in that silly-looking sailor hat, but you decided to continue the conversation instead of shooing him out of the store.

“Seriously,” You sighed, holding up the silly IOU cards Tina made for you, “Now I have two of these.”

Steve walked closer to the counter to read them as you placed them on the counter and moved to grab the window cleaning supplies.

“An IOU? She really gave you one of those?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t expect me to ever use them, but I kind of want to just so that she knows she can’t always dump this crap on me and ‘promise’,” you say making air quotes with your fingers, “ that she’ll cover for me.”

You began spraying the front window and continued your rant, “I mean, she barely helps when she is here.”

“I could help you close up the shop if you want?” Steve broached as you wiped the glass.

You stopped, turning around to face the guy you had allowed to stay in the store for maybe a bit too long.

“You would help me?” You asked skeptically.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, I just closed up Scoops Ahoy—which is why I’m still wearing this stupid uniform. But I did it all by myself since Robin had to leave early for some stupid family dinner. Anyway, I just—I know what it’s like and if you want some help just give me the order.”

Steve finished his rambling offer to help with a smile, hoping you’d take him up on his offer.

You stayed silent for a few seconds and narrowed your eyes at him, thinking. But, just when Steve started thinking you were about to kick him out, you smiled.

“You know, I was starting to wonder why you walked in here looking like some discount store sailor. No offense.” You said.

“None taken,” he smiled back and took off his sailor hat, “This wasn’t really my first choice, but I had to get a job somewhere-you know?”

“Yeah, I get that—“ you paused, realizing you didn’t know this guy's name yet and he didn’t know yours, “What’s your name?”

“Steve Harrington,” he said.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Steve Harrington,” you smiled cheekily and then gave him your name.

Steve smiled too, “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Well, Steve, if you really want to help, I haven’t swept the floor yet and there’s a broom in the back.”

You went back to wiping the front window and looked back at him after a few seconds. Steve had stopped moving. He had a blank look on his face like he was surprised you accepted his help. Most people just brushed off his offers for help.

“The back room is over there,” you said pointing, “Don’t think that I’ll let you just loiter around in here 'cause you’re nice.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve said, still in a daze.

As Steve walked over to the back room, the song over the stereo changed and you started humming along as you returned to your work.

You could hear him moving around when you suddenly heard another voice quietly humming with you.

You stopped and looked at Steve. He was quietly humming to the song and moving around the store as he swept.

In that moment, you could feel your heart squeeze at the sight. You barely knew anything about him, but there was something so endearing about Steve and the way he wanted to help you for nothing in return.

He had surprised you. You didn’t think you were ready to like someone new, but there Steve was. Helping you out, on a Friday night nonetheless, in all his kindness.

Steve looked up at you when he realized you’d stopped humming. And just when you thought he couldn’t have shocked you more, he stopped humming and began to sing along-trying to coax you into joining him.

It took you a minute to let the moment sink in. With anyone else you would have passed it off as a joke, but Steve had disarmed you. So you joined him, singing along to your heart's content in an odd duet sort of way.

Soon enough, the two of you had cleaned the store and finished the rest of the closing duties, singing the whole time.

“That was fun,” you said, turning off the music and grabbing your bag from the counter, heading towards the doors.

“Yeah,” he said as he watched you lock the door for the night.

“Thanks—for the help I mean.” You said looking towards Steve.

“It’s no problem, I’m glad to help.” Steve said, “Can I walk you to your car?”

He looked a little nervous when he asked. It was almost like he was scared you’d say no, but instead, you smiled at him.

“Sure,” you said.

So you started walking out of the mall, in step with Steve.

The walk to your car was surprisingly quiet. You couldn’t figure out what you should be talking about and Steve didn’t say anything either. He seemed to be lost in thought whenever you glanced over at him.

You thought the two of you had a lot of fun tonight. A small part of you thought that you could become friends with Steve, and an even smaller part thought about liking him as more than a friend if you got to know him better.

It felt a little silly thinking about it, but he helped you and made you feel better.

But by the time you’d gotten to your car, neither of you had said a word.

“Well, thanks for walking with me. I guess I’ll see you around,” you said unlocking your car.

“Wait, umm…” Steve said before trailing off.

“Yeah?” You looked at him, waiting.

He took a small breath and continued, “You remember how you said you wanted to use those IOU cards Tina made you?”

You nodded, wondering what exactly he was going to say.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to go to the Fourth of July fair with me—maybe use one of those IOUs to get off work early?” Steve asks.

“We could play the games and go on some rides,” he continued, “The food’s not too bad as long as you don’t think about how greasy it actually is. I was thinking we could get to know each other better…”

“Are you asking me, as a date? Serious?” You asked, almost not believing your ears.

“Yeah, I thought it could be fun,” Steve said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “So, what do you think?”

You broke into a smile, “I think I would like that a lot.”

Steve looked so relieved when you accepted. He had smiled a few times already, but this smile was brighter than all the rest and it made you glad.

That must have been what he was thinking about on the walk to your car.

“Cool. Awesome. I can write out the details and bring them to you on my lunch break tomorrow if that's okay?” Steve offers.

“That’d be great Steve,” you said, “And maybe I could stop by Scoops on my break. I’ve been meaning to stop in too—see what flavors you guys have.”

“Great, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Steve said, “Drive safe.”

“You too,” you said before getting into your car to leave.

You weren’t quite sure what going on a date with Steve Harrington would bring. But, you did know that you were excited for something and it felt good to look forward to something again.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff

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