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likeumeanit9497 · 11 days

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yale | c.s. |

chris x fem!reader

read part two here

summary: chris and y/n’s relationship was strictly sexual, and they both seem more than content with meeting up whenever y/n can get time away from her school work — and her boyfriend. but after a particularly intense hook up where chris put his all into making y/n shed her stress from exam prep, it becomes clear that at least one of them is starting to want something more.

warnings: SMUUUUT; friends with benefits; cheating (do not do this pls); thigh riding; fingering; oral (f receiving); p in v; dirty talk; unprotected sex (wrap it); 18+

notes: i was (loosely) inspired by the first few lines of yale by ken carson when writing this hehe. im definitely not 100% happy with the ending of this one but i wanted to get this out of my drafts :p hope u all enjoyyyyyy <333

y/n: Hey. I’ve been super busy all day studying for my exams next week. Not sure if I’m going to be able to make it to yours today.

Chris: :(

Chris: Please come

Chris: You can study here

y/n: Definitely not. Your needy ass would just distract me.

Chris: I won’t I swear

Chris: I’ll hangout in Matt’s room or something and you can study at my desk

y/n: I don’t know…

Chris: I haven’t seen you in weeks :/

y/n: You miss me or something?

Chris: YES obviously bro

y/n: lol

y/n: I’ll tell Brad I’m going to study at the library. See you in 15, bro.

---

Adjusting the shoulder strap of my tote bag, I waited for Chris to come open the front door and let me in. I didn’t have to wait long, as after a few seconds I heard the sound of his feet clambering down the stairs before being met with his unbeatable smile beaming down at me. After returning the smile, I walked through the open door and headed in the direction of his upstairs bedroom, but was stopped by a strong grip on my arm. I was spun around and was suddenly facing Chris, his brows furrowed slightly in concern.

“No kiss?” He asked with a pout. I winced, feeling guilty, before wrapping my arms around his waist and giving him a short but deep kiss. “Sorry Chris, my head’s just so scrambled. I have three finals as soon as I get back to Connecticut after Thanksgiving break and I’ve been so stressed about them.” I apologized as I moved my hand up to brush his hair out of his face. He must have just showered, because his hair was dripping wet and hanging over his sparkling blue eyes.

He brought his hands to my ass and squeezed it gently. “My Yale girl.” He said before nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. Giggling at the ticklish sensation from his facial hair, I gently pushed him off. “You know I’m not your girl, Chris.” I rolled my eyes as I started climbing the stairs up to the living room. I felt him press up against me as I walked, before I felt his breath against my hair. “Today you are.” I felt a flutter in my stomach, my body reacting in excitement just from the thought of what was to come, but I quickly cleared my mind of all of its dirty thoughts for the sake of my academic future. “Only until eight, that’s when the library closes and Brad will know something’s up if I’m still out past then.” I could practically feel his eyes roll behind me. “See? I told you that you shouldn’t have brought him home for the holidays to meet your parents. He’s causing more problems than he’s worth” He grumbled. “Whatever you say Chris,” I teased, “But you’re still gonna let me study.”

As soon as we reached Chris’ room, I headed over to his desk and began pulling my laptop and study notes from my tote bag. Chris helped me by clearing all of his empty Takis wrappers and Pepsi cans off of the surface of the desk, and moving his headset and controller to the side so that there was plenty of room for me to lay all of my papers out.

“Can I grab you anything from the kitchen before I leave?” Asked Chris as he rested his chin on my shoulder, watching me unlock my laptop. I shook my head. “I’m good for now, thanks.” I responded, already feeling myself zone into my studying. “Okay. I’m gonna be on Fortnite in Matt’s room. He’ll be out all day with the rest of my family so he won’t mind.” I nodded my head again, only half listening to his rambling as my eyes erratically scanned all the information on my computer screen. He gently pressed his lips against my temple. “And when you’re ready for a break,” He reached his hand into the big pocket of his hoodie and I heard a muffled but familiar jingle before he pulled out the small red bell and placed it on the edge of the desk. “You know what to do.” I looked up to meet his knowing eyes and he flashed me a quick wink. I felt my lips curl into a small smirk and I nodded. “Got it.” He smiled before exiting his room, shutting the door behind him.

---

Rubbing my tired eyes under my glasses, I groaned in frustration. I had been using flash cards to practice my active recall for my Biology II final, and had answered the last four questions incorrectly. The most infuriating part was that I shouldknow the correct answers, but the hours I had spent studying nonstop had made me feel like I was burning out. I glanced at the time in the top right corner of my laptop screen. It was nearly 5:00. I had been studying at Chris’ for the past three hours straight. Exacerbated, I sighed and rested my head against the cold surface of the desk, closing my eyes for a moment.

After a little while, I forced my burning eyes back open and they landed on the small red object in front of me. In my erratic mindset from the hours I had spent studying, it was like the part of my brain that knew why I was really at Chris’s right now had shut off completely. I battled myself for a few moments; one half of me wanting to do the responsible thing and continue studying until I had corrected my mistakes, and the other half screaming at me to take a break. With my mind growing more and more excited at the idea of distracting myself from the mental gymnastics of Biology II, I reached for the bell and rang it three times.

Almost immediately, I heard a door creak open from down the hall and eager footsteps approaching. I watched from my place at the desk as the doorknob turned and Chris’ face popped in the room. “You ready for a break angel?” He asked as he made his way completely into the bedroom; shutting the door behind him before I even responded. Quickly stacking my flash cards and shutting off my laptop, I nodded. Immediately, Chris’ previously sparkling eyes seemed to darken before my eyes and a sly leer crossed his face.

Still sitting in the desk chair, I watched curiously as he slowly walked up to me; my head tilting up with each step he took in order to maintain our intense eye contact. Torturously slow, he leaned toward me and placed both hands against the arm rests of the chair to support his body. I waited, perfectly still, as his lips hovered in front of mine; the small space between them electric with anticipation. Finally, I felt my body immediately relax when his lips attached to mine. Our lips moved in sync slowly, his mouth painfully soft against my own. The kiss very quickly deepened, one of his hands now in my hair while one of my own wrapped around his neck, and a small moan is stifled by his tongue gently entering my mouth. Goosebumps began to rise over my skin as his mouth left mine and began traveling down my neck. Chris immediately found the spot just above my collar bone that he knew drove me crazy and began sucking and nibbling at the delicate skin; hard enough for me to roll my eyes back in pleasure but gentle enough to avoid leaving any evidence that his lips were ever there.

After trailing his lips back to mine and rhythmically kissing me for a few more moments, he stood up straight and gazed down at me. With a small smile, he hooked a finger under my chin and guided my eyes up to his. He brought the rough pad of his thumb to my soft bottom lip, and watched intently as he dragged it down slightly. “Come here.” He ordered as he began walking backward in the direction of his bed. I stood up on shaky legs and followed, straddling his lap at the edge of his unmade bed. Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I eagerly began kissing him again, feeling his content hums vibrate against my lips as he slipped his hands underneath my sweater, only to find out that I had chosen not to wear a bra. “Oh yeah,” I began, detaching my lips from his and innocently staring up at him through my eyelashes. “I was in such a rush to get here that I just threw this skirt and sweater on. I completely forgot to wear anything underneath them.”

I couldn’t help but smile slightly as I watched Chris’ blue eyes dilate to near-black as he realized what I meant. To confirm this realization, he pulled my black plaid skirt up over my waist to find my completely unclothed pussy hugging his thigh. His jaw went slack when he noticed the small dark patch already beginning to appear on his jeans from my arousal, and he immediately placed both of his hands firmly on my hips as if restraining himself. Eventually, he was able to pull his eyes away from my core and looked up at me with blown out pupils. His lips met mine once again, only this time they brushed against mine teasingly and without any sort of depth. Growing frustrated, I began grinding my hips against his straddled thigh so that I could find some sort of relief. At this, Chris’ grip on my hips tightened and his gaze fell down to where my core connected to his leg.

“You want to ride my thigh like a little slut, don’t you baby?” His voice sounded deep with lust, and I whimpered at his filthy words as I continued to chase my relief. Using his hands on my hips, he forcefully halted my movements and my eyes immediately snapped onto his. “Answer me, y/n.” He demanded, and I bit my bottom lip gently in frustration before quickly nodding my head. Chris smirked and shook his head slowly. “Use your words.” He said as his fingers moved mindlessly in a circular motion on my hips.

“Yes, please let me ride your thigh.” I managed to get out through my ragged breathing, and almost immediately he used the firm grip he had on my hips to slowly drag me up and down his thigh. Shutting my eyes in relief, I let him continue to grind my core down onto his thigh while I simply held onto his neck for support. The pool of arousal on his leg allowed my clit to glide with ease, but the rough texture of his denim supplied the much-needed friction against my folds that was beginning to drive me crazy. As our movements continued, Chris watched my blissful expression before bringing his lips to my neck, licking and nibbling softly. I moaned out his name as I began to feel the familiar build up of pressure in my lower stomach. “Are you feeling good, princess?” He mumbled against my neck and I nodded my head quickly. “You’re gonna cum soon aren’t you?” He asked as he brought his head back up. Again, I nodded with my bottom lip pulled tightly between my teeth. “I wanna watch you fuck my thigh yourself while you cum, so start moving princess.” He commanded as he removed his hands from my hips.

Without missing a beat, I began to grind my body against his at the same pace that he had me at before. I felt my body flush at the intense feeling of an orgasm building up, and I had to screw my eyes shut. “No y/n,” Chris began as he pulled my sweater up over my head to discard it. “I want you to look at the mess you’re making all over my thigh.” I threw my head back from the intensity of his words, but obeyed him. Looking down at my pink cunt’s rhythmic movements against his darkened jeans, I felt my orgasm finally bubble over. Gripping tightly at the base of his hair and whining out his name through clenched teeth, I gave into my high and rode out my orgasm on his flexed leg.

Once I felt the last whisper of my orgasm leave by body, I draped my head over his shoulder in an attempt to rest and catch my breath. I didn’t have more than a brief moment to do so, however, as in one swift motion Chris sat me up, laid himself flat on the bed, and pulled my hips up to hover over his face. “C-Chris I can’t, I’m so sensitive.” I whined, still feeling the weakness in my legs from my first orgasm. I felt his cool breath against my dripping cunt as he gazed up at it. “You can take it baby, I just wanna make you feel good.” He responded before lowering my core right against his open mouth. I was immediately overwhelmed by a white-hot sensation of arousal as his tongue danced around my bundle of nerves. A moan fell from his lips as he firmly gripped my ass with both of his hands and began manually grinding my core against his mouth just as he had done before on his thigh. Still feeling the overwhelming after-effects of my first orgasm, I could do nothing besides hold onto his long hair for dear life and repetitively moan out his name.

As my second orgasm started to build up in my lower stomach, Chris used one hand slap my ass; sending a row of shivers down my spine at the sharp pleasure. “Fuck Chris, I-I think I’m gonna cum again.” I cried out. I felt his mouth turn up in a smirk against my heat before his tongue quickened; now doing swift figure-eights against my clit. I felt my legs begin to shake uncontrollably on either side of his head as my second orgasm tore through me; this one being even more intense and lasting much longer than my first.

Chris gently lifted me off of his face and he once again took a moment to admire my dripping wet heat as it continued to pulsate above him. He placed his tongue at my opening and trailed it quickly up to my nerves to collect all of my arousal, and the contact on my already overstimulated cunt caused me to hiss through my teeth and buck my hips away.

“It’s so pretty baby.” He whispered, peering up at me from between my legs and causing my core to once again grow hot with need. Nibbling on my bottom lip, I leaned back slightly to place my hand on his clothed hardness behind me. Running my hand up and down its impressive length slowly, I wordlessly let him know what I really wanted.

Knowing me so well at this point, I didn’t need to do much else before he helped me move off of him. “Ass up angel.” He commanded and I immediately obeyed; pressing my chest into his mattress and arching my back as far as possible to give him the best view I could. I wiggled in anticipation as I heard him unzip his jeans and quickly pull them off. Soon after I felt his warm, swollen tip rub against my folds, and I whimpered softly at his teasing. He continued his agonizingly slow movements, knowing they would drive me crazy, and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. In my discontentment, I pushed my entrance against his dancing tip and sighed in immediate relief as I felt the first couple inches of his enter me.

My satisfaction didn’t last long though, as Chris quickly pulled his hips back, causing his dick to fall out of me, before leaning forward; wrapping his long fingers around my neck and forcing my head up off the bed. “You’re such a needy slut, trying to fuck yourself with my cock like that.” I rolled my eyes back in pure bliss from the combination of his dirty words and the pressure of his hand around my throat. “You’re gonna stay still and be patient.” He whispered as I felt him use his free hand to resume teasing my cunt.

His tip swirled around my ass, slid across my clit, and finally made it back to my opening where he finally allowed only about one inch to rest in the crest of my hole; as if to test me. I stayed as still as possible, not wanting to prolong the torture for any longer, though it took everything out of me to not sink my shaking hips down again and swallow his shaft greedily.

“That’s a good girl.” He muttered gruffly as he finally pushed his cock slowly into my begging hole, earning a satisfied moan from me as he bottomed out. I felt my walls stretch out to fit his girth, and my eyes began to water at the intense pressure that I would never get used to. He removed his hand from my throat and placed it on the back of my neck while his other hand was gripped to my hip, using enough weight to hold me down as he began to slam into me repeatedly. His pace was slow, but he made sure to hit my sweet spot with each thrust, causing incessant moans to fall from my mouth.

“That feels good, doesn’t it baby?” He asked as his pace began to quicken slightly. Not being able to form a sentence, I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded my head rapidly. “Does Brad make you feel as good as I do?” His voice was gravelly but taunting, and I felt myself clench around him as he spoke. When I didn’t respond to his question, he fisted my hair and pulled my head up forcefully. “Tell me y/n, I wanna know. Does Brad fill you up like I do?” He practically growled in my ear, and I felt the tears in my eyes threaten to spill as another orgasm threatened to wash over me.

I gasped when Chris suddenly spun me around so that I was laying on my back with my head against the headboard. With his cock now just resting on my stomach, I whined at the loss of contact as he stared down at me with taunting eyes. “I asked you a question y/n.” He spoke calmly, but his hand’s firm grip on my jaw told me it was just a facade.

I brought my hand down between our bodies to lightly stroke his cock before reaching up to lightly brush my lips against his. The kiss grew deeper once I tasted myself on his tongue, before I finally pulled away to speak. “No. No one has ever made me feel as good as you do.” I watched closely as Chris’ pupils dilated from my words, and in an instant he plunged his cock back into me; my shocked moan stifled by his lips reattaching to my mouth.

I head fell back in ecstasy as he rolled his hips slowly to meet mine. His eyes were on me and I was jarred by the intimacy of our movements. My shock must have been clear on my face, as he seemed to have a moment of clarity before straightening up, hooking his arms around my legs, and slamming his cock into me hard and fast. His jaw went slack as his eyes gazed down to where our bodies fused into one, and I had to dig my nails into the wooden headboard as I approached my orgasm.

As the room filled with our moans and the wet smacking of our connecting bodies, his rhythm grew sloppy and I knew that he was as close to his orgasm as I was. Tightening my legs around his body to pull him even deeper into me, I wordlessly egged him on just as I felt my third and final orgasm take over my body. My back arched off of the bed and a string of profanities flew out of my mouth as I convulsed around his cock, and it wasn’t long before his breath hitched and his body stiffened; his stiff member shooting cum deep into me.

After we both rode out our highs, Chris collapsed onto my chest. As we both caught our breath — our bodies still connected and gently pulsating against each other — he lightly brushed a finger up and down my arm. I brought my hands to the back of his head and began gently massaging it. We continued to lay there in silence for so long that I began to feel my eyes grow heavy with sleep, before I was suddenly brought back to reality by the sound of his voice.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice muffled by my shoulder. “Pretty good, honestly,” I responded with a laugh, his one-dimensional question throwing me off,“You?” I felt him raise his shoulders into a shrug. “Me too.” He responded simply. Still too tired to move, I closed my eyes again as I relished in the light feeling that always came after really good sex.

“Did you really mean it when you said that no one makes you feel as good as I do?” Chris’ question made me jump, partially because I almost dozed off again but mostly because of its intensity. I stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to approach this conversation. It wasn’t the first time that Chris had spoken to me like that when we were sleeping together, in fact he asked me some form of that question nearly every time. It always just seemed like some sort of egotistical dirty-talk thing for him, so I never really thought much of it once it was over. But Chris had never asked whether or not it was true in post-sex conversation before, and it scared me a bit.

Obviously, I couldn’t stay quiet forever, so I decided that the best way to answer would be with honesty. “Yeah. I meant it.” I finally said, and he lifted his head off my should to look at me. “So why are you with him?” I was once again shocked by his words, as our no-strings-attached scenario had been a very mutual decision at the start. Chris made it clear that he had commitment issues and I was already in a relationship with someone else, so it had worked out perfectly for both of us. Or so I thought before Chris rocked the boat with this conversation.

Confused, I gulped quickly and furrowed my brow as I watched his face for any sign of a joke. With a stone-still face and eyes filled with shining apprehension, I quickly realized that he was in fact being serious. “What are you saying, Chris?” I asked timidly, and in response he planted a soft kiss to the tip of my nose. “I don’t know,” He began, “I think that… I don’t know, maybe we’d be pretty good together.” His voice wavered near the end, as if he couldn’t believe that he was actually saying those words.

Trying to keep my expression neutral so that he wouldn’t freak out, I gently rubbed his back. “Chris, our situation was set up to be the way it is for a reason. You don’t want to date and I-” I paused for a moment before Chris finished my sentence. “You’re with Brad, I know. But you said it yourself that he doesn’t make you feel the way that I do. And you have to know as much as I do that our sexual chemistry isn’t just surface level.” He rambled on as I just stared up at him like a deer in headlights.

I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t ever wanted to hear him say these things to me. When I first started hooking up with Chris eight months ago, there had been a part of me that wanted more. Brad and I didn’t have the healthiest relationship, and my first time sleeping with Chris was actually my opportunity to even the score from when Brad had cheated on me a few weeks before then. But the sex had been so good, and Chris and I had gotten along so well that we decided to continue behind Brad’s back. During those first few times I would have absolutely left Brad if Chris gave me any sign that he wanted more than sex, but that was months ago. Things had grown more complicated since then, and I was truly blind-sided by this sudden confession.

“Chris, I brought Brad home to meet my parents.” I whined, growing a bit frustrated at the situation I was now in. “I know you did. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to make a decision right now, or even ever.” He brushed his hand across my cheek as he spoke. “I’ll take whatever part of you that I can get until you’re done with me, no matter what. But, I really, really want more.” My head spun so rapidly at his words that I had to close my eyes. He planted a gentle kiss on my left eyelid, and then my right, before lifting his body off of mine.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I just felt like you needed to know how I’ve been feeling.” I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, and rubbed my temples in contemplation. I watched his silhouette as he grabbed a towel off his shelf, wiping himself down before passing it to me. There was a opaque hush in the room as we both cleaned up and got dressed, and I felt like I could burst at the tension.

I walked over to his desk and began collecting my notes in silence, packing them back up in my tote bag. “You’re leaving?” I heard Chris’s apprehensive voice from behind me ask as I swung the bag over my shoulder. I checked my phone, it was just after seven. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to focus on studying here right now. I’m sorry Chris.” I mumbled as I headed towards his bedroom door. He stayed silent, but followed me down the hall and towards the stairs. I felt a lump grow in my throat from the guilt of staying silent, and wanted nothing more than to erase the past twenty minutes from my memory. My mind fogged with confusion as I bent over to put my shoes on, and when I straightened up Chris was standing in front of me. He gave me a faux-cheerful smile, clearly not wanting me to feel bad, and I wrapped my arms around his neck in a tight hug.

Focusing on the feeling of his thumbs rubbing circles on my lower back, I stayed in his embrace for what felt like hours. Eventually, I pulled back and grabbed his face in both of my hands.

“Let me just get through my exams. I’ll call you after them all and we can figure this out, okay?” I tilted my head, hopeful that my response was enough for him right now. I felt my body relax as a shy smile crossed his face, and he nodded quickly. “Good luck, smart girl. You’re gonna kill your exams. I’ll see you when they’re all over.” He gave me a quick peck on my lips before I walked through the open front door and stumbled to my car. With shaky hands, I started my engine and began backing out of his driveway, nervous about the future but certain about what I had to do.

I just had to get through Thanksgiving with Brad and my family, survive finals week, dump my boyfriend, and come back here as soon as possible to have a very important conversation with Chris. Nothing too crazy, right?

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #Spotify

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bluesidez · 1 month

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GymRat!Miguel Part 5

content warning: very fluffy, PDA ➡️ something in which the reader is shy about and Miguel is hungry for, Miguel’s bday is 10/13 here, it gets suggestive so MINORS BEWARE, George O’Hara is NOT abusive in this story and he will be Mexican here idc idc idc, some mentions of food (deer meat at one point), some of the gym photos are white men (my deepest apologies, I just want y’all to have an idea of the pose 😔)

word count: 4.3k (just nod and smile. she's thicc like me😗)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who learns your schedule front to back. He’s always there to walk you to your classes and carry your heavy bags and purses. Sometimes he’ll meet you outside of your dorm, sometimes you’ll send him your location and he’ll come running. Now, you both walk into the lab building hand in hand and leave the building swinging hands. You used to despise those lovey-dovey couples who were stuck in their own world, but now you could understand them completely. They were still a little annoying, though.

GymRat!Miguel who makes a habit of sending you post workout pictures in the early mornings. His go-to poses are the worm’s eye under-chest, the standing mirror, the bench mirror, and the back mirror. The last one was specific to his dorm bathroom, too shy to take his shirt completely off. Your thorough praises made him feel warm, but sometimes you let more silly things slip.

“You could probably choke me with your thighs and I’d be thankful”

“Baby don’t say that. :(( I would never hurt you”

“Oh so you can want me to sit and lay on you but I can’t ask for the same? Wow. The double standards”

“That’s not fair. You should sit on me. I can take it and I want it. Thoroughly.”

“Oh! So you’re saying I’m not strong enough. Got it.”

“Baby I never said that!”

“Whatever Miguel 🙄”

“ㅜㅜ”

“You never answered me though. Will you sit on me?”

“Go get ready for class 😒”

“😞”

GymRat!Miguel who tells you that his birthday is coming up at the last minute possible. You berate him for telling you so late and kick yourself for not asking sooner, but you still manage to get a reservation at one of the fancy local restaurants.

You pull out all of the stops you could. A gift card from Smoothie King, a pair of slippers to match yours, the newest Final Fantasy game, and a muscle bunny keychain to match your muscle bear keychain. He was your big teddy bear, after all.

You handed him the gifts after the staff brought out a chocolate cake with sparklers on it while singing at the top of their lungs. The chocolate syrup read “Happy Birthday Miguel 🤎” around the plate.

Miguel’s smile got bigger as he took the gifts out one by one. He paused when he got to the cards: one a birthday card and the other a thick “open when…” manilla envelope.

The birthday card was simple and sweet. It was the other stuff you were worried about. You found these cute ideas about letters and notes to leave for your significant other. You had one for anger, sadness, needing a hug, sickness, boredom, and even one for wanting a kiss. You remember Jess walking in on you with your lips smashed against the cardstock, trying to get a bunch of kiss marks to cut out. She just sighed out a “young love” and carried on to her side of the room.

“It’s only been a short time since we’ve been dating, but Thanksgiving and Christmas break are coming up so I wanted to leave you with something for when you can’t reach me.”

Your heart is thumping as Miguel takes the cards out, reading their envelopes.

What you don’t expect is for Miguel to start crying.

You startle a bit, scared that the gift is awful, but he lets out a watery thank you, flustered from everything.

You quickly make your way to his side of the table and hug him. You wipe at his eyes and chuckle at his cuteness, telling him you were afraid he didn’t like it.

He shakes his head, breathes deep and slow to calm his emotions.

“No, I will definitely be using all of these. I really appreciate this. Everything. I’m not sure how you were able to do all of this, but I’m thankful that you did.”

You couldn’t take it. Here he was with dewey eyes and red tinting his cheeks. It was cuteness overload.

You face him towards you and lean forward, connecting his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who stares at you stunned when you lean back. That was your first kiss with him. His first kiss with you and he was sitting here with his cheeks damp and nose sniffling away.

“I-” his heart picks up and he’s opening and closing his mouth. He was short circuiting.

“Can we- I mean if it’s ok, can we do that again?” Miguel stutters out.

You simply nod your head and lean in again, this time tilting your head.

The cards in Miguel’s hands drop to the table and his breathing stops. Your lips were soft and full. Another fraction of his dreams that were nothing compared to the real thing.

He could only hear his heartbeat and the soft jazz music in the restaurant when he let up for air.

This was definitely the best gift of the night.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed when the waiter comes and asks if you two need anything while he’s leaning down for another kiss.

He just got to kiss his dream girl. Who cares if the waiter saw him kiss you some more?

You jump when the waiter’s hands come close to you two as he picks up an empty dinner plate. You look to the waiter awkwardly to apologize and ask for the check.

This just makes Miguel want to pull you in his lap and kiss you as the entire staff goes by.

GymRat!Miguel who wants you to feed him bites of his cake. You happily agree, especially since he was the birthday boy. His eyes never leave you the whole time.

GymRat!Miguel who grabs the check before you can pick it up. He doesn’t want you to pay for the meal.

“Miguel, it’s your birthday. I picked the restaurant and reserved the seats,” you say a little whiney.

“But I want to pay for the dinner,” Miguel pouts as he holds the check out of your reach.

When he got like this, it was hard to change his mind.

“If you let me pay, I’ll give you another kiss.”

“Just one?” Miguel brings the check back to your level, squinting at you.

You sigh, “I’ll give you ten.”

“Deal.”

Miguel gives you the check with a giddy smile and you slap your card on it.

The kisses still don’t stop him from taking over the tip.

So stubborn.

GymRat!Miguel who texts Gabriel once he’s back in his dorm. He sends pictures of everything from the food to the cake to the gifts.

“Look at what my baby did for me 🤪”

“The same one you left at the party even tho you blew up my phone about her for weeks? 😕”

“Yes…I didn’t do it on purpose. Me and her talked about it already”

“jk jk it wasn’t your fault”

“No way she got you final fantasy. Dana barely got me a cupcake”

“This just proves that my gf is better”

“Tbf tho you and Dana are still in high school”

“Ohhhh my god. You turn one more year older than me and all of a sudden you have the wisdom of a sage. SHUT UP 😭”

“I’ll literally be in college next year”

“AND ANYWAY you’ve never shown me this so-called gf. How do Ik you haven’t gone insane?”

Miguel clicked the back of his teeth in annoyance. Peter walked by him with his eyebrow raised and Miguel just waved his hand.

He sent a picture he took of you from tonight. You looked amazing in that dress and your eyes were beautiful and deep. You were smiling at him from across the table.

“First you try to steal Dana from me and now you get her”

“It’s crazy how this world is so anti-Gabriel”

“What are you yapping about”

“And I didn’t take ANYTHING from you 🫵🏽”

“We were 6 and 7 and you couldn’t push her hard enough on the swings. When will you get over that?”

“It burns all the same”

“You should give me her number and I can let you experience that feeling”

“Gabriel.”

“Show her what a real O’Hara is like”

“Cabrón”

“You’re so lucky I’m not next to you right now”

“THE BIG C WORD?”

“I’m telling mom you called me that btw”

“All because I wanted to meet your gf ☹️”

“Bastard”

“I’M TELLING MOM YOU CALLED ME THAT! WTF?”

It wasn’t long before Miguel’s mom was calling his phone to berate him. He pressed the green button, air pushing out of his nose as his mom’s face filled up the screen.

Peter looked bug eyed as Conchata’s rapid fire words filled the room.

“Ma! That’s so not fair! Gabri called me a bastard!”

There was a quick pause as his mom made a face that he knew all too well. Miguel heard Gabriel yelp as a sandal made a loud impact with his skin.

Miguel heard Gabriel cry out as his mom took off her other shoe, ready to aim, “MIGUEL HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”

Miguel just threw his phone on the bed and groaned. He could hear Peter snickering from his desk.

“What girlfriend? Miguel! Where are you? Come back and answer me,” Conchata’s voice got louder and louder. “I can’t believe you two! You would think this distance meant that you two wouldn’t fight like you’re still sleeping in the same room.”

“We’re not fighting,” Gabriel said. He smirks as he gets in the camera next to his mom. “Miguel is still hiding things from you, though.”

Miguel picked the phone up again with a frown on his face. Gabriel just stuck his tongue out like the brat he was.

“Mijo, what’s going on?” his mom asked, concern in her voice. “First, it was the party and now this. Do you need to come home?”

“No, ma,” Miguel sighed. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine now. Great even.”

“Then why haven’t you told me about this girlfriend of yours?”

“We just started dating. It’s still very new,” Miguel chose his words carefully. Ever since his second seamster in high school, she’s been super sensitive towards him and his feelings. Knowing her, she might give you a hard time. He didn’t want that for you just yet. “I didn’t want to introduce you to her until we were more solid.”

“I think a girl that helps to organize the take down of a sorority in your honor is pretty solid,” Gabriel comments off camera.

“She did that?!” Conchata stares at Miguel with furrowed brows.

Miguel only nods, lips wound in a tight line.

“Oh well, mijo, I have to meet this girl!”

“I don’t think-”

“Let me know when she’s free to come home with you! Maybe over Thanksgiving?”

“Ma, she has her own family-”

“Ok I have to go now! I have to catch my shows. Call me more often or I’ll have to come up there!”

The room fell silent as the call ended and Miguel was met with his messages with Gabriel again.

“CHECKMATE!”

Miguel still wanted to throttle him.

GymRat!Miguel who’s super excited when Halloween comes and you want to wear couple costumes. He hasn’t done costumes since early middle school. Growing up meant realizing that some people your age want to grow up. Fast. No one wanted to dress up in silly costumes anymore or go trick-or-treating. Sure, the scary stories were fun but at that age, he wanted to eat candy all night, not teepee houses and run in the woods.

He’s hanging out on his bed chatting with Mary Jane and Peter while you get ready in the bathroom. The theater and art department collaborated together to host a costume party. This time, Miguel wouldn’t leave your side. Maybe if you had to pee, he would consider waiting awkwardly by the door. He didn’t want the same mistake to happen.

The two of you decide to go as Starfire and Nightwing grouping up with MJ and Peter who dress up as Raven and Beast Boy for a Teen Titans theme.

The costume is pretty tight but he has to admit, it looks great on his build.

You walk out of the bathroom with a cheery “I’m ready!”

It’s definitely not ideal that his suit is so tight.

The skirt is hugging your body in every which way. The cut-outs at your hips had his fingers twitching. To top it off, the diamond cut out for your chest left him internally screaming.

Peter whistled from his desk and MJ hollered about how good you looked. You smiled bashfully, doing a 360.

Miguel wanted to shove MJ and Peter out of the room to reenact what Starfire and Nightwing actually got up to when they were by themselves.

You walk up to him and flip your flaming hair back playfully.

“Do you like it?” you ask, peering up at him.

“I think he more than likes it,” Peter mumbles out in a stage whisper. MJ elbows him softly in the stomach.

Miguel spins you around, “Fuck yeah.”

Your laugh falls out of you, surprised at his curt reaction.

“Honestly, you two can go ahead to the party and we’ll just hang out here,” Miguel said, face as serious as ever as he wrapped himself around you from behind.

“No, no, no! You can do whatever you want after the party. Keep it in, buddy,” Peter says as he starts to guide everyone to the door.

Miguel keeps himself attached to you all night.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you bring your things to your car for Thanksgiving break. It’ll only be a week but he feels like he might not make it.

“You’ll see me again next Sunday, Miggy” you say to him as he’s bent over you with the biggest pout out ever.

“I’m still gonna miss you,” Miguel leans further with his forehead on yours. “Wish you could come with me.”

“Maybe over the winter break we can plan a time to meet outside of school.”

Miguel just sighs dramatically.

You decide to say fuck it and kiss him in the middle of the almost empty parking garage.

Miguel doesn’t let up now that you’ve given him an inch. He’s holding you by your hips, your face, your waist, anything to get closer. He moans a bit into your mouth as you open up.

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper, “I really have to get on the road now, baby. And so do you.”

Miguel slumps as he guides you to your driver’s seat. You roll the window down and pucker your lips for another kiss.

Miguel obliges easily and asks, “Call me when you get there?”

“Of course,” you say.

He stands and watches you drive off, missing you already.

GymRat!Miguel who is almost knocked down when he opens the door to his home. Gabriel is wrapped around him like a koala, squeezing away.

Miguel laughs and rubs his back, relieved that he’s not heavy enough to knock him over.

“It’s good to see you too, Gabri,” Miguel laughs.

Conchata peaks around the corner and almost cries at the sight.

“My boys!” She coos while coming to the door. “George! Come help Miguel with his bags!”

Miguel waddles in with Gabriel still clinging to him. He’s glad to be home.

GymRat!Miguel who gets your call in the middle of Gabriel watching him play Final Fantasy. He pauses the game and runs to his room, Gabriel yelling at him to come back and unpause the game.

You tell that you made it home and that you’ll call him later.

You blow a kiss at the screen and he catches it with glee before you end the call.

Miguel is glad you left before Gabriel opens his door like that one big bird meme.

“Was that her?” he asks, voice excited. “Is she still on the phone?”

“Yes. No. Why are you eavesdropping like a creep?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping! It just dawned on me a little too late that you left to go talk to her.”

“Whatever,” Miguel groaned. “Let’s just get back to the game.”

“You know you can’t hide her from me forever, right?” Gabriel says, skipping next to Miguel.

“I’m not trying to. But you being a weirdo will make me want to.”

Conchata passes by them with a laundry basket on her hip, “Who’s hiding something?”

“Nobody!” Both Miguel and Gabriel shout in her direction and run back to their game.

Conchata rolls her eyes and continues to her bedroom.

GymRat!Miguel who becomes overwhelmed on Thanksgiving Day. It’s as if every close and distant relative was here. The first floor was full of people. As much as Miguel puts on, he’s never been an much of an extrovert.

He’s up in his room taking a breather. He pulls out one of the cards you gifted him. The one for when he missed your kisses.

He opens and pulls out a letter. There’s instructions on it.

“Each shade is for a different feeling!”

There was a cute chibi doodle of you kissing him on the cheeks at the bottom of the letter. He saw that there was a shade for nervousness/being overwhelmed.

He pulls out a polaroid of you and opens the bag of glossy paper kisses. He flips one and it reads, “Breathe slow and steady 10 times. Kiss me when you’re done.”

He does as you say and brings the paper to his lips. It even smells like you. Sweet. Fruity.

He smiles to himself and takes out one more.

GymRat!Miguel who finally lets Gabriel talk to you on Friday.

“He can be a bit annoying. I’m warning you now,” Miguel says.

“Don’t say that, Miggy. He’s your brother! He’s allowed to bother you at least a little. ”

Miguel yells for Gabriel to come in and he’s running to snatch Miguel’s phone.

“Hi! My name is Gabriel, the better O’Hara. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“Oh my gosh,” Miguel watches as you gasp. “It’s like another Miguel!”

Miguel snickers as Gabriel groans loudly in annoyance.

“I don’t look like him. He looks like me!” Gabriel pouts.

“Well, you both sport that same O’Hara pout.”

Gabriel and you chat for a long time. Miguel had to cut the conversation short when Gabriel started to tell embarrassing stories from their childhood.

“Alright, you’re done,” Miguel says and snatches the phone back.

“Aw, but we were just getting to the good stuff!”

“Yeah!” you say. “I wanna know how you messed up the science lab in middle school!”

“Nuh uh, Gabri is running his mouth too much. Get out.”

“I can’t wait to see you in person!” Gabriel shouts as Miguel pushes him towards the door. “You can meet my girlfriend too! She’ll love you!”

“I can’t wait,” you say, laughing as Miguel struggles to detach Gabriel’s fingers from the doorway.

GymRat!Miguel who talks to you on the phone until you fall asleep. You look adorable as you’re blissful to the outside world. Your cheek is squished on your pillow.

He has the urge to bite it like it’s mochi.

“Buenas noches, mi amor,” he whispers before he closes his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of your breaths.

He didn’t know that you were still partially awake to hear him.

GymRat!Miguel who picks you up and spins you around after the break. You squeal in shock, surprised that he could pick you up in the first place.

“Baby, I lift much heavier weights at the gym. This is nothing,” Miguel stares at you as if you have two heads when you comment on it.

You’re in a daydream the rest of the day because of that fact.

GymRat!Miguel who joins you on your late study nights in the library closer to finals. You two always sit at one of the tables hidden by the giant bookshelves.

It was nice and cozy. Quiet and roomy.

It was also a great place to makeout.

Every time you got a set of flashcards memorized, Miguel would pull you in his lap and devour you with kisses. It was a great motivation and a welcomed distraction.

It always ended up getting a little too heated and Miguel would have to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

Sometimes you would feel so delirious that you wanted him to stay so you could crawl under the table and take care of his problems for him.

That was definitely the multiple late nights talking.

GymRat!Miguel who is super bummed out by the time Christmas break starts because you two can’t find a proper time to meet.

You have to visit several other family member’s houses and his biological dad wants his family to join him and his family at some ski resort before the week of Christmas.

George O’Hara was not turning down a free vacation.

You told him to cheer up and enjoy the snow and jacuzzis. Miguel couldn’t help but to think that the jacuzzi would be better with you on top of him in it.

And when Gabriel annoys him, he didn’t mind all that much because that was his baby brother whom he loves dearly. It was when Kron, his step-brother, would run his mouth that Miguel would seriously get annoyed.

He’s been competing with Miguel ever since he caught on to the fact that his dad had a secret love child.

Right now though, he was pissing Miguel off.

First, it was fighting Miguel over a snowboard. Then, it was taking the last elk burger and not even finishing it. Next, trying to knock him off balance right as he got off of the ski lift.

It was as if he was 8 and not 20.

His final straw was when he was being a dick towards Gabriel. All Gabriel was trying to do was bring them together and Kron cursed at him.

Even Miguel doesn’t tell Gabriel to fuck off.

“What is up with you? Don’t cuss at him. He didn’t do anything to you,” Miguel unlocks himself from his snowboard, ready to leave.

“It’s ok, Migs,” Gabriel held his hand out, knowing how this could end.

“No it’s not. He’s been nothing but a dickhead to you, to us, this entire trip. I’m sick of it. Go be annoying somewhere else, Kron.”

“Dad,” Miguel shouts out. Both George and Tyler looked over at him in concern. Miguel didn’t feel like directing himself towards a specific person. “I’m going to the room, I’ll be back down for dinner.”

Tyler wanted to run after him. George was eyeing Tyler for even reacting to Miguel’s cries. Nancy and Conchata just stood in confusion.

“He, uh, he probably just needs a breather. Maybe he’ll talk to his girlfriend!” Gabriel said trying to lighten the mood.

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? I didn’t hear about any girlfriend,” Tyler says, saddened that he was being left out.

“Shit,” Gabriel mumbled to himself.

“You don’t live in our home, Tyler. Of course you don’t know,” George says, a bit peeved.

“What George means to say is that it’s all new. Fresh! Even I haven’t met the girl,” Conchata slides in matter of factly.

“Tyler should know her, being that she was the one who emailed him with our son’s case,” George grumbled out.

Tyler turned to Gabriel, “Jessica?”

“Uh, no.”

Tyler then says your name with a fondness. As if he knew you like an old friend. “She was quite compelling with her words!”

“So the two of you know of her and I still don’t even know what she looks like. I never thought this day would come,” Conchata held her gloved hand over her forehead like she was about to faint.

“Why don’t we host a small dinner next year? We can get to know her that way,” Nancy chimes in.

“Guys, I really don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Nonsense, Gabriel. If this girl was willing to do something so brave for Miguel we have to meet her,” Tyler grips Gabriel’s shoulder tight. A grip that could rival his brother’s.

“That’s a great idea, Tyler! Nice co-parenting move!” Conchata holds her fist out for him to bump. He does it proudly and they walk towards one of the cabins while Nancy follows behind, discussing dinner ideas.

George only scoffs and stomps off to his room mirroring Miguel’s mannerisms.

Gabriel was screwed once Miguel finds out.

GymRat!Miguel who waits until Christmas night in his bedroom to open the gift you sent to him. He smiles at your cute message and unfolds the paper to so much. It’s a Spider-man lego mask, a customized hoodie with a doodle of you and him, two picture frames with the two of you from his birthday dinner and the Halloween party, and some polaroids that you warned him to look at by himself later.

His breath shuttered as he took him in. They were all of you in your dorm room. They started off innocent. You were smiling, laughing, staring at the camera. Then they got a little more explicit.

You had on a tank top with no bra. Your cleavage was on display. Some showed your entire body on the bed. Some showed your torso and hips, curvy and full.

Miguel felt faint.

His final straw was the last picture in the stack. It was a picture of you from behind, “Merry Christmas XX” written in cursive across the top. You had on briefs but your ass was still readable, peaking out from the bottom. There was an arch in your back as you looked over your shoulder seductively. What a tease.

You were going to send him to an early grave. And who took these pictures?

All Miguel remembers was shuddering, hips lifting off the bed as he held one of pictures high. He had to bite his shirt as to not startle the entire house.

After he cleans up, he spreads the pictures across his bare chest and clicks a photo with a lazy yet satisfied smile.

You respond back with voice memos, so happy that he loved his gift. You also send some sounding a bit needy.

Miguel calls you and talks with you all night.

This Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

dividers by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: This one was really fun to write!! I dove deep into my lover girl brain for this. Like full on immersing myself into the reader’s position. I hope you enjoyed! 🩵

As always likes and reblogs are super appreciated. PLEASE COMMENT OMG. 😭 Let me know how you feel or I get nervous 😭😭😭!

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netherfeildren · 5 months

Text

Meet Me in the New Year

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: “We’re havin’ a baby this year,” voice boyish and shy and full of excitement and love.

You peer up at him, cheek smushed against the ball of his shoulder. “We are.”

“Ready?”

You nod, slow, pulling his head down for another kiss. “Happy New Year, Joel.”

-OR-

The New Year's Eve AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; New Year's Eve AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Ringing in the New Year with your baby daddy like God intended; More fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pregnancy sex; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Meet me in St. Louis is the best Christmas movie ever; Breeding Kink; Pregnancy Kink; Size Difference; How does one tag fingering?; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; PWP

A/N: One last post for 2023, and of course, I had to do a few of my favorite things; daddy Joel, creampies and pregnancy sex, yeehaw. Here's to a new year of more of the same, but WORSE and nastier.

I should be put in prison next year probably like omg but whatever. Have fun, I love you all lots!

This is a sort of follow up to Evermore

Word Count: 2.4K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

MEET ME IN THE NEW YEAR

“Joel, what time is it?”

He looks down at you, tender look in his eye, dragging that big hand of his through your hair. Tresses slightly sleep damp and warm at the roots and gradually growing cooler towards the ends. Your parent’s living room is dark, only the warm shine of the Christmas tree coming from the front hall peering in around the corner into the comfortable, warm den. Meet me in St. Louis plays on mute on the flatscreen, Judy Garland rushing over to give John Truett a piece of her mind on Tootie’s behalf. “Look who it is. Thought I’d lost you for the night.”

You groan, stretching your legs as far as the couch allows, knees popping hollowly, little toes splaying wide within the sweaty confines of the fuzzy Christmas socks he’d put in your stocking and which you’d been sporting for the past six days. You yawn wide, nose scrunching up at him and turning to nuzzle your face into his lap where you’ve been on and off dozing for the evening. Dinner had been so, so good, browned butter steak and baked potatoes and heirloom tomato, mozzarella salad, and you were so full and so warm and so content beyond imagining. “No… I’m awake,” you mumble against his thigh. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight, I reckon.”

You turn to look up at him, giving him a scrunchy faced smile, “Didn’t miss it, ha. Knew it.”

“Oh, did ya?” His palm moves over the bowl of your skull to cup and squeeze the tender nape of your neck, big fingers gently kneading the fine, tight muscles there. “Gonna ring in the New Year with me, sweet girl?” Mhmm, you moan, nuzzling further against his sweats and the thick heaviness of his half hard cock.

“You’re hard, daddy,” you whisper up at him while his fingertips slip beneath the neck of your pullover, running down the notches of your spine to reach your waist. He pauses there, his hand curving over the growing swell of your bump.

He groans, head dropping onto the back of the sofa, and brings his other hand up to rub across his whiskered mouth. “Don’t fucking start.” You know it makes him crazy when you call him that, but you’d told him that you now have the excuse that he is actually going to be a daddy again, and so it’s only nothing but the truth.

You press your fingertips to your mouth, hiding away your laughing smile. Your first Christmas as a little family of three. Sarah was away with her mother this year since she’d gotten Christmas with the two of you last year, and so the two of you’d decided to come to your parents house again, like you’d done for Thanksgiving last year. You’d been here for a week now, and Joel was starting to lose patience. The lack of alone time was needling as evidenced by the now fully hard and slightly pulsing erection digging into your cheek.

He rolls his head to peer down at you, mock, chastising frown as he drags his hand over the small swell and up to your naked breast, squeezing gently. “We’ve been here too fuckin’ long.” And you moan, hiding your face against his thigh as he pinches your nipple, rolling it softly between his fingertips, thumb dragging around the sensitive puffiness of your areola. Your whole body had been, for the past several weeks, a coiled tight ball of nerves, everything swollen, everything wet, everything needing him. Like your skin knew, knew he’d been the one to do this to you, and wanted it more, wanted it again.

You squeeze your thighs together, legs shifting and sliding against each other to relieve the knot of want he’s spin, spin, spinning with his fingers plucking at your breast. He switches to the other one, hand sliding beneath the heavy weight to lift it into his palm and squeeze. You turn to look up at him now, eyes wide when you can’t control the sound of the moan he forces out of you, mouth falling open, panting. Your breasts, going all tight and hot, needing his sucking mouth. “Joel–”

“What?” He teases, pulling his hand from beneath your sweatshirt and shifting to sit you up and press you back the opposite way on the couch, crawling over you to settle between your thighs he pushes open for himself, slightly to the side and sure to not crush you. “If your father catches us,” he whispers with wet lips moving across your throat, that same hand sneaking its way back under your sweatshirt, tongue against your pulse, “he can’t be mad, sweetheart. Already fucked you full’a my baby. Damage s’already done,” he snickers, mouth latching at your carotid, pulling hard enough you know he’s purposely trying to leave a mark.

“You’re so bad,” you moan, arching up into his hand on your breast, his hot, sucking mouth. You want it on your cunt, you want that thick cock he’s rubbing against you, inside. He’s right, you’ve been at your parents house too long, too far into your first trimester to pretend at civility. You need your husband.

“Not,” he huffs, damp against your collarbone. “Gonna give it to you so good, baby.” He wedges one hand behind your neck, holding you in place, while the one fondling your breast moves down between your legs, center gusset soaked slick already, and you flush at the flutter of muscles wrapped around his jaw when he finds you pantiless beneath your soft sleep shorts. And so what? Pregnancy had made you sensitive and achy. You need to be free, you tell him with an airy laugh.

He clicks his tongue down at you, fingers slipping beneath the soft cotton to pet at the soaking wet tuft of curls with the back of his knuckles. “Pretty cunt’s all wet and hungry for me, isn’t it, baby?” And he’s all teasing grins and sparkly, self satisfied eyes as he searches gently for your clit, parting your folds to pet there slow and steady.

Uh huh, you moan, hitching your foot up higher on his back, little heel digging into the padding of muscles over his ribs to find purchase. You let your other leg slip off the couch with a dull thud, socked foot rolling up on your tip toes so that you can cant and rock your hips against his too light touch on your cunt.

“More, daddy, please,” you provoke, all breathless sighs as you roll your head in the cup of his palm, the heat of him seeping through the mantle of your messy hair, against your scalp. You feel him flex his fingers, tugging lightly at the sweaty roots, and he finally gives you more. Thumb sliding down to your weepy entrance, pressing there lightly, petting and circling, moving back up to press against your clit at the same time that he starts to feed you two fingers at once.

You groan at him, scrunching your nose, but he just clicks his tongue, tutting you into submission and silence. “Take it,” he says gentle and low. You scratch at his shoulders, slipping your fingertips under his ratty t-shirt to get at his skin, using your bracing foot to rock your hips against his palm, rough callused palm catching a little painfully at your clit. You’re going to come so fucking fast like this.

And fingers hooked forward inside of you, he jostles his hand a little, rattles your cunt so that all your wet rings loud in your parents dead silent house. “Hear how sloppy this cunt is for me?” He’s grinding his cock against your inner thigh, fat, blunt tip thrusting against the crease in your thigh over and over and you want it inside of you. You don’t care if you get caught, if someone comes down stairs. You want to soak his hand and then soak his cock and then have him carry you to bed and do it all over again.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Gonna come.” Your lashes flutter shut as he lowers his head to bite your tit, hard and mean, over your sweatshirt, fingers fucking fast and loud, and your cunt goes tight, tight like a knot and then wet and loose and even sloppier. You’re so wet for him. Always.

Fucking Christ, he groans against your breast, sucks harder, darkening the grey cotton so that the hard tip of your nipple is left molded and obvious beneath the soaked fabric. “That’s it. Come just like that, sweet girl. You’re so fucking wet.” And he doesn't’ gentle his fingers, pressing in a little harder, palm grinding against your clit and shaking his fingers up and down inside of you so that he’s jostling another tiny, almost painful, orgasm out of you. The wet sound of your pussy is so loud and so obvious, if someone were to come down the stairs, the sound of it would be unmistakable. “Gonna soak your mother’s nice couch, and then what’ll she think of you? Everyone’s gonna know exactly what you let me do to you down here.”

You’re pretty sure that’s what gets you over the edge that second time. The thought of everyone knowing.

He nuzzles at your breast, your neck, sucking and kissing, fingers still stretching your pussy, while he makes his way up your throat, mouth against the tip of your chin, and then finally to your mouth. Kiss, slow at first, all tongue and hunger, and then soft little pecks. The corner of your mouth, the bow of your top lip, the other corner. Open, he orders, and licks behind your teeth. Bossy man. You love him.

He pets gently at your G-spot, slow and careful because he knows it’ll be too much soon, letting your slick spill out and gather in his palm, drip down his wrist. “Pretty girl,” he says real quiet, “Keeping my baby so nice and warm in this little cunt. Aren’t you?” You whine up at him, bringing your foot up off the floor, trying to toe his arm away. He clicks his tongue at you again, but finally pulls his fingers from you, wet, sucking sound as he leaves your cunt. He brings his hand up to his mouth, fingers slick sticky and sweet, shiny in the dim light and licks himself clean. You watch him as he teases you, all eyes and laughter, wrapping your fingers around his too thick, hairy wrist, not meeting around it, and holding him there as he eats your wet out of his own palm. When he’s done, his mouth is shiny and glossed in you and he presses another kiss to your lips, forces your jaw open, hinged wide and eats you like you know he wants to eat your cunt instead. Later, he says, like he can read your mind because you’re pretty sure he actually can.

When he pushes the loose waist of his sweatpants down over his erection, no underwear either, you roll your eyes at him, and tell him old men aren’t supposed to be this slutty. But at the sight of that too thick cock nestled in his neatly trimmed bed of hair, the wide root leading up to the happy trailed covered belly, you concede that easy access is highly to your benefit. And when he wedges that said thick cock inside of you by way of an answer to your brattiness, fat head stretching your well used, wet hole, he slides in way too easy because you want him way too much.

You moan open mouthed for him, and he presses your sweatshirt up over your bump, your swollen breasts, and finally gets his hot mouth on your bare nipples, teeth grazing lightly, pushing you into a higher, hotter level of desperation. You rock your hips up to meet his thrusts, close your eyes and listen to the slick sound of his cock fucking your cunt. “Lemme see this sweet belly,” he murmurs, cupping the small swell. The changes he’d incited in your body had made him a specific flavor of hungry you were going to miss when this was all over. “You’re so fucking beautiful, carrying my baby. You know that?”

And you’re all soft sighs and whimpers and his name as nothing but a moan, hitching your knees as high as you can to open yourself further to him. “Fuck, you’re gunna come again. Gettin’ tight as a fist,” he grits, hips swinging back and then forward, pelvis grinding so that he’s pressing on your clit and then pressing you into another full blown orgasm. It throbs through you, an almost unbearable heat stirring in your pelvis, walls of your cunt pulsing and milking the too thick, sometimes too big, weight of his cock inside you. It always hurts just a little and you always like it too much.

He pulls out suddenly, tiny flutters still moving through your muscles and sits back on his knees, turning you on your side and shoving your thigh up, pulling the now ruined shorts aside to line up and shove back inside. He braces his foot on the floor, one hand on the back of the couch, the other holding your thigh up and open for himself and drills down into your spasming cunt, mid orgasm, and there are tears in your eyes and you gnaw and slobber on the edge of your mother’s couch as your husband fucks you into one last orgasm. The previous one not even fully over. “Told you you’d fuckin’ take it,” he growls, balls slapping against the curve of your ass, temples shiny with sweat, throat all red and splotchy. “Fuckin’ shame I can’t knock you up again here in your parents house like I wanted to last time. We’re gonna have to try harder next time.”

“Told you, you’re so bad.” And you can barely speak as he starts to pump you full of his load, hot and thick so that you can feel it being forced out of your cunt while he continues to shove inside.

When he’s finished, cleaned you up and tucked you back into his side, both of you choosing to ignore the wet spot on the couch you’d left and agreed to plead the fifth tomorrow if anyone asks, the movie is just finishing up. Judy and her beau are finally at the World Fair together. The clock below the TV rings midnight and Joel presses a soft kiss at the tender spot behind your ear. “We’re havin’ a baby this year,” voice boyish and shy and full of excitement and love.

You peer up at him, cheek smushed against the ball of his shoulder. “We are.”

“Ready?”

You nod, slow, pulling his head down for another kiss. “Happy New Year, Joel.”

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

#vic fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #Joel miller smut #the last of us AU #joel miller fanfiction

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sycamorelibrary754 · 5 months

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Merry Christmas

Summary: It’s the most wonderful time of the year. You and Natasha are off to the annual Stark Christmas Party. Little does the team know that a special surprise awaits them.

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Natasha x reader, Avengers x reader (platonic).

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is part 2 to Happy Thanksgiving! I recommend reading it first, but it can be read as a stand-alone story as well. I hope you enjoy!

“Be down in a minute, malyshka!” Natasha called from your bedroom.

You were standing in the kitchen eating peanut butter out of the jar topped with chocolate sauce. A “homemade Reese’s” you dubbed it. Your first pregnancy craving that had Nat popping down to the corner grocery store at 2 am for the dynamic duo of ingredients.

“No worries, love!” Already dressed for Tony’s annual Christmas party at the compound. Clad in a green Sequin-Lace Halter Twist-Neck Jumpsuit, your baby bump beginning to show.

The click of Natasha’s high heels signaled her arrival a few moments later in a sleek long-sleeved red scoop-back midi dress that hugged her in all the right places.

“Wow, Nat. You look beautiful. Red is most definitely your color.”

“So you prefer it over the black,” she smirked as she put on her earrings.

“I didn’t say that now, did I,” with a wink.

“The baby enjoying its homemade Reese’s?” grabbing her clutch.

“Very much! I was thinking,” Putting away the chocolate and peanut butter. “Tomorrow we could make fudge!”

“Ah, because the baby has such a sweet tooth?”

“Yes,” you giggled.

“Well, whatever the baby wants, I suppose,” wrapping her arms around you in a loving embrace before leaning down and kissing your stomach.

“You ready to drop the baby bombshell tonight?” Patting the top of Nat’s head.

“Yes, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous,” sighing as she stood up. These are the same people who freaked out when they found out Clint had a family. How are they going to handle this?”

“Like the amazing aunts and uncles they were meant to be,” grabbing Natasha’s hand. “Plus, I think announcing it with the Christmas crackers is a cute idea.”

“I hope so,” placing a soft kiss against your lips.

“Frankly, I’m more surprised Yelena hasn’t blabbed yet.”

“Oh, that’s because I warned her if she told anyone I would make her run with me every morning at 5 am until the baby is born.”

“Well played,” high-fiving your wife.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “Now come on, let’s go get our holiday cheer on.”

*^~^*

The drive to the compound was even more beautiful during the holidays. A light snow fell as you passed house after house dressed in beautiful Christmas lights. Natasha placed her right hand on the center console. You softly intertwined your fingers with hers and placed a soft kiss to the back of her hand.

You are greeted by a rush of warm air upon entering the compound lobby. Natasha shook the delicate snowflakes out of your hair and off your coat. You both step onto the elevator and are welcomed by the soothing voice of FRIDAY.

“Merry Christmas, ladies. Welcome to the annual Stark Christmas party.”

“Merry Christmas, FRIDAY. How’s the party so far?” You asked as the hum the elevator carried you up to living quarters.

“The party is in full swing. Mr. Stark is currently treating guests to a medley of Christmas carols.

“Of course he is,” you giggled.

“You know, he only plays that baby grand piano when he gets a bit tipsy,” Nat said. “When we got home from our month-long undercover mission in Romania, he celebrated on the jet and then made us all listen to his rendition of Dancing Queen.”

“Aww, and I missed it!” Feigning disappointment.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to joyous noise and laughter. An abundance of greens, reds, gold, and silver flashing here and there, adding opulence and brightness. Classic poinsettias tied in tradition, and shiny bows and foiled paper glistened under the 12-foot tall Noble Fir Christmas tree, inviting their recipients to sneak one open before the actual day.

“Hey, the Romanoff’s are finally here!” Clint exclaimed as his kids rushed over to both of you.

Nate jumped into your wife’s arms as you hugged Lila and Cooper. It seemed like every time you saw the Barton kids they had grown a bit more. It was thanks to Banner and Cho that you were carrying a child that would be half yours and half Natasha’s. Looking at Clint and Laura’s kids and how they resembled their parents, you couldn’t wait to see what features your little plum would inherit from each of you.

“How’s my little namesake?” Kissing Nathaniel’s cheek. Have you been practicing the punch and kick combinations I taught you?”

“Practicing the what?” Laura asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” Natasha smirked as Nate giggled.

“You two look great, I love the green and red thing you’ve got going on,” Clint said.

“Thank you. Lovely Christmas sweater by the way. I especially love Rudolph’s glowing nose.” you pointed.

“Hey, the Barton’s are the cream of the crop when it comes to ugly Christmas sweaters.”

“Clearly,” Nat teased.

“I’ll take your coats,” Cooper offered.

“Why, thank you. What a gentleman,” you winked at Laura as you handed him yours and Natasha’s pea coats.

You scanned the room and noticed Wanda putting the finishing touches on trays of Christmas cookies. You put a hand on Nat’s shoulder and motioned toward the kitchen. She gave you a quick nod as you meandered over to the counter.

“Wanda, Wanda, Wanda… what do we have here?”

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you,” wrapping you in one of her signature hugs that you loved so much. “This is my parents’ Christmas cookie recipe,” she proudly declared. “I convinced Tony and Pepper to let me handle the desserts this year. So, we’ve got cookies, the Viennese torte is in the fridge and the pumpkin pie is cooling.”

“Wow, you have been busy,” you smiled. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Yes, you can take a cookie and go mingle. I’ll be done in a few minutes,” handing you a charming little cookie decorated like Santa. You took a bite and couldn’t believe it. It was the best cookie you had ever tasted.

“Mhmm, Wanda! This is amazing.”

“That is why I will always vouch for homemade over store bought goodies. Now seriously, go mingle,” shooing you away.

You turned back around to see your wife sitting by the fireplace talking to Steve, champagne in hand. As you started to across the room you were intercepted by a festively-dressed Kate and Lucky.

“Y/N! Hey, oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you in so long! How are you?”

“I’m good! I see you and Lucky are enjoying the party,” petting the Golden Retriever.

“Absolutely, say hello to Santa Paws and Mrs. Claus!” Kate exclaimed. Unfortunately, we’ve lost Yelena. She’s our elf,” glancing around the room.

“Wait, Yelena’s dressed as an elf?” Eyes wide. “Oh, that’s fantastic.”

“Yeah, if you see her will you send her our way? We’re supposed to be taking the photo for our holiday card tonight.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” you smirked with a hand on Kate’s shoulder.

You bid the young archer and pooch farewell and rejoined your wife.

“Hey, deka,” Wrapping her arm around your waste.

“Y/N, I was just telling your wife that she needs to find her holiday spirit and come Christmas caroling with us next week,” Steve said.

“Natasha singing? I’m not sure that would be good for community morale,” you joked

“Says the woman who performs one woman tributes to Harry Styles in the shower?” Nat giggled.

“Hey, my rendition of Sign of the Times is highly praised, I’ll have you know.”

Tony and Pepper join your little huddle with Morgan in tow.

“Romanoffs! You have to try this Hot Buttered Rum,” Tony remarked.

“Oh, I love Hot Buttered Rum, but I think I’ll stick with sparkling cider tonight,” you said “Nat would probably love some though, right, love?”

“Sure,” grabbing the glass from Tony’s hand as Steve looked back at you curiously.

You peered down at Morgan who was sitting on the ottoman next to the fireplace. Ever since you found out you were pregnant you were drawn to children like never before.

“Hi, sweetheart! You look so pretty tonight,” kneeling down to the little girl’s level.

“Thank you, Aunt Y/N,” she grinned.

“Are you excited for Christmas? You are clearly at the top of Santa’s nice list this year.”

“Really?!” Morgan squealed.

“Oh, absolutely, I have a feeling the man in red is going to be very good to you this year,” you winked.

“Did you hear that Daddy? Aunt Y/N said that I’m on the top of the nice list!”

“I sure did, squirt. I didn’t realize Aunt Y/N was so tight with St. Nick,” eyeing you coyly.

“Oh yeah, we’re on a first name basis. I’m surprised you’re not?” Smirking at the billionaire. You loved Tony like a brother, but you enjoyed giving him crap.

“Trust me, Mrs. Romanoff, I’m much closer to Santa than you are.”

“Really, do you have a direct line to the North Pole?”

“Are you having milk and cookies flown in from Holland? Because you know those are his favorite,” raising an eyebrow at you.

“Ooookay, that’s enough,” your wife placing hands on your shoulders from behind. “You both know Santa. You both have giant egos. Merry Christmas,” Nat mocked. Come on Tony, let’s go grab some hors d'oeuvrs for our better halves. I’ll be right back, detka,” leading the billionaire toward the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but admire Natasha as she walked away. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at you with all the love in the world. You just about melted right there in front of the fireplace. Snapping out of your love daze, you noticed Pepper grinning at you.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I just can’t help but notice how glowing you look tonight,” as Morgan pulled her away towards Clint’s kids and Steve strolled away to join Bucky in conversation with Rhodes.

“Pssst… Pssst!”

You turned around just as a styrofoam snowball was about to hit you in face. You caught it in one swift motion.

“Nice catch,” a Russian voice said.

“Yelena, where are you?” Glancing around not seeing your sister-in-law.

“Over here,” poking her head out from the behind the seven-foot snowman next to the pool table.

“Oh, now don’t you look adorable as an elf,” you giggled.

“If you weren’t pregnant with my niece or nephew you would be hanging upside down from the rafters right now.”

“You know Kate and Lucky are looking for you, right?”

“Why do you think I’m hiding behind the giant snowman? Kate Bishop forced me to dress in this saccharin American Christmas costume and now she wants photographic evidence of it.”

“Because she loves you, silly,” your arms crossed over your chest.

“Detka, it’s time for dinner. Let’s go—“Natasha stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of her sister. “Oh my God,” she burst into laughter.

“Tred carefully, sestra,” Yelena threatened.

“No, I love it. I think this qualifies as new mission suit attire,” poking the bell dangling from her elf hat. “Maybe you can get Stark to upgrade this outfit with Widow Bites.”

“Do you have a death wish?” Yelena sneered.

“Come on you adorable elf, it’s time for dinner,” placing an arm around your best friend’s shoulder.

*^~^*

You took your seat next to your wife at the Astoria Grand Giovani dining table. Natasha quietly squeezed your hand. You looked over with a shy smile and a festive blush on your cheeks.

Pepper stood up from her seat next to Tony at the head of the table. “Before we enjoy this lovely holiday feast, I just wanted to take a moment to tell you how grateful we are that you’re all here,” grasping Tony’s hand. “Everyone in this room knows how precious life is and we don’t take a moment of it for granted. We love you and Merry Christmas.”

“Here, here!” Thor declared a couple seats down from you as glasses clinked around the table.

A traditional Christmas dinner soon filled your plate. Roasted turkey with all the trimmings. Home baked bread, mashed potatoes and garden veggies gently roasted, drizzled in balsamic vinegar. The group drank, were merry, and told the most terrible of jokes.

Pregnancy mood swings were becoming commonplace and as the dinner wore on, you suddenly found yourself overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of your extended family enjoying the holiday season together.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Carol looked at you with concern in her eyes from across the table.

“Oh, yeah” dabbing at the corner of your eyes with your napkin. “I’m fine.”

“The holidays always make her a bit emotional,” Natasha offered laying her head comfortingly on your shoulder.

After dinner you helped Wanda serve the desserts. The Christmas cookies took their place in the center of the table, flanked by the Viennese torte and the pumpkin pie. Coffee and dessert wine circulated around the table.

The group of full bellies and ever so slightly sleepy eyes then made their way to the living room to relax. Christmas music softly enveloped the room as the kids were discussing what they hoped Santa was going to bring them this year.

“Okay, Kate Bishop. Let’s get this picture over with. I want to put on my pajamas,” Yelena announced as she stood from the sofa.

“Yay!! Okay, don’t move. Lucky! Here boy,” calling the dog who promptly romped over. “Vision, can you take the picture?”

“Of course Ms. Bishop.” Taking the Canon EOS R-50 from the archer.

“It is customary to say cheese before a picture, but since it is Christmas time perhaps you should say mistletoe?”

“Just take the picture,” Yelena deadpanned

“Mistletoe!” Kate yelled.

“We’re going to get one of these cards right?” Looking at your wife.

“I had Kate put us down for two,” she smirked.

*^~^*

As night fell, you rested your weary head on Nat’s lap as she ran her fingers through your hair.

Natasha looked at her watch. “You ready to drop the baby bomb?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. I’ll get the Christmas crackers,” rising from the sofa.

“Umm, everyone. Y/N and I have a special gift for you all,” your wife announced nervously as you passed out the gold and silver novelties to the team.

“Christmas crackers? I have to be honest, I was hoping for something a bit more extravagant… Oww!” Tony whined, as Pepper pinching him on the arm.

You smiled with nervous anticipation as you reached for Natasha. The snap of the festive crackers echoed across the room. Clint was the first to reach inside and remove the tiny gift. A small round ceramic white ornament tied to a red ribbon appeared in his hand. Lila, Cooper, and Nate huddled around their dad to get a glimpse as Clint read the inscription.

“Uncle Clint?” Looking up at Natasha in shock.

“No way!” Sam shouted.

Wanda, Carol, and Kate all screamed at the sight of their own ornaments. Their names adorned with the title of Aunt.

“This is joyous news!” Thor crowed.

Pepper got up immediately and embraced you in a warm hug as Laura did the same with Natasha.

“How far along are you?” Wanda asked.

“Almost three months,” Yelena cut in.

“You knew?! Why didn’t you tell me?” Kate shouted; slapping her girlfriend on the arm.

“Because I want to sleep in!”

“I’m so happy for you, Nat,” Steve kissing her on the cheek.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you with a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“You ready to be Uncle Bucky?” Your eyes meeting his gaze.

“Oh God,” his face like a deer in the headlights.

“You’ll be great, Buck,” you giggled.

Bruce and Helen embraced Natasha in a tandem hug.

“I’m so relieved everyone knows,” Helen said turning to you. “Now we can openly discuss your pregnancy. Have you been continuing with your prenatal vitamins?”

And remember, you have an appointment on Friday,” Bruce interjected.

“Yes and yes,” you said as Natasha placed a soft kiss to your cheek and then another to your belly.

Tony walked up to you with that signature smirk on his face. You mentally prepared yourself for a signature Stark one-liner or some stupid joke. Instead, he took you by surprise when he wrapped you in a warm embrace.

“Congratulations, Romanoff. Looks like you do know Santa best.”

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disneyprincemuke · 4 months

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american burgers * ls2

it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

pairings: logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver

notes: hi guys i had to change the title of this like three times sorry

“okay, this is for you,” you mutter, walking into toto’s office nonchalantly with a burger in your hand. “happy race weekend!”

the austrian behind the table tilts his head, watching you rudely barge into his office with very minimal explanation. “what?”

“i got you a burger. for lunch,” you grin. you reach back into the paper bag and pull out a drink and a cup of fries.

toto looks at the food on the table then looks back up at you. you follow his stare and snap your eyes up to meet his. you huff and turn on your heel. “‘kay, bye.”

“what, where are you going?” he calls out after you. “i- i mean thank you for the food. but why?”

“george and i dropped by a drive thru earlier before heading here to the track,” you grin before disappearing behind the wall. you fix whatever is left inside your paper bag and jog down the stairs.

“distracted him?” george asks, watching as you run down the stairs to meet him. “can we go to williams now?”

“yep. you got their food?” you ask, tilting your head when you see george’s arms decorated with more paper bags. “i didn’t know we got so much food.”

“we’ve got very big teams. it took us five rounds to distribute the food here alone, imagine williams,” george mutters, shaking his head as you open the door for him. “all this to be friends with logan seems kinda much, don’t you think?”

“oh, i’m winning over the entire williams home. not just logan,” you beam. “they’re gonna love me.”

and you’re right. because faces lit up and chatter died down when you walked in with george into the dark blue building. you laid the food down on a random table with george and declared lunch to be eaten, before grabbing the paper bag filled with your food and approaching james.

“this is a very unexpected visit. thanks for the food,” he smiles as you approach. “looking for logan?”

“yeah, i got him a burger and everything,” you slump your shoulders, lifting up the paper bag to show him evidence. “has he arrived?”

“might be upstairs with alex. something about being nervous for his home race,” james shrugs. “alex didn’t tell me much before he ran up and closed the door like a ten year old.”

you sigh. “can we come up? respectfully?”

“just don’t sneak into my office? i have important documents in there.”

“no worries,” you mutter, already halfway towards the steps. you walk by george and lift your arm up, dragging him by his back collar up the stairs. “let’s go, they’re upstairs.”

“you could have asked me nicely and i would have followed you up,” george mutters, smacking your hand to remove your grasp from his shirt. “you really could be nicer or else logan wouldn’t be your friend.”

“oy, logan definitely wants to be my friend,” you frown. you stop at a door, one with logan’s name on it. you knock on the door. “let me in, i brought lunch!”

you hear the chatter inside the room stop. “can’t bribe us with food,” you hear alex call out. “go away.”

“yeah, shut up,” you mutter, reaching for the doorknob. you push the door open. "logan, i got the burgers you told me were really good."

the boy sitting in the corner of the room tilts his head at you. you can see a glimmer in his eyes and a smile slowly appearing on his face. "really? you went and tried the burgers i talked about last week?"

"tried? i bought you some so we can all try it together!" you lift the paper bag and walk in. "so, home race today. you feeling okay?"

alex furrows his eyebrows. "that's not a question you just ask. you need to build up to that."

"i get the right because i bought your team lunch. the questioned included," you giggle. you reach over and hand logan his meal. "so, miami gp. how are you feeling?"

"nervous. there's a lot of people out there," logan whispers, sinking into his seat. he unwraps his burger. "how are you feeling?"

"alex isn't very helpful with the nerves, is he?" you roll your eyes. "you should have come to me. i know a thing or two about nerves."

"and by that, she means she puked in the toilet on the night of her first home race," alex points out with a small smile. "you don't know anything about nerves."

"shut up," you scowl, kicking alex as you clench your jaw. "i'm a professional and handling nerves. you wouldn't know anything about that."

"i-"

"you guys are scaring the poor kid," george sighs, shaking his head. he gestures at logan in the corner of the room, innocently taking a bite out of his burger as he looks between you and alex bickering. "can you play nice?"

logan raises his eyebrows at the three pairs of eyes on him, swallowing his burger. he shakes his head. "no, please. continue your conversation - don't mind me."

"exactly. hold on, logan," you mutter before turning to alex once more. "shut your trap, alex, i'm trying to help your rookie."

george turns to logan. "give them a couple more minutes."

"no problem, man," logan smiles. "i'm just glad she brought me lunch. i'm starving."

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #female driver #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #logan sargeant platonic #disneyprincemuke 3k celly

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reticulating-splines · 6 months

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WIP - West 70th

1880s-1910s row of Upper West Side townhomes.

Been working on this row of late 19th c. brownstones on and off for the past year now, so needless to say when I heard about For Rent I was hype.

Download Here

This initially started because I was homesick for NYC during the pandemic. Specifically for the area of the upper west side my dorm was in while I was a student. I mainly blame this experience for my obsession with historical architecture - walking along central park west past the Dakota on the way to the subway, smoking on the stoops of the brownstones late at night, going to classes in the wedding cake that is the Ansonia - it was just everywhere, and so, so beautiful to look at.

Except a lot of it is faded glory - buildings subdivided, details chipped or covered in the thickest coats of grime or paint. So I wanted to replicate some of the old New York from around the turn of the century. The one I read about in the Luxe series and saw in the Samantha movie lol.

The basement or garden level of each four-story brownstone will be dedicated to the original purpose as the main workplace of the service staff. Unfortunately no room for the actual garden, so laundry lines and planters are on the roof. There are bedrooms and bathrooms for a cook and a housekeeper/butler, along with the staff dining and the kitchen. The butler's pantry is directly upstairs from the kitchen, and the top floor is almost exclusively made up of staff bedrooms and washrooms.

I usually do the service areas first because they're the most interesting, and there was nothing more interesting than a full edwardian brownstone kitchen. Lots of exposed piping, beadboard, subway tile, and shelves of clutter. Has a separate scullery, pantry, and stairs down to a basement storeroom to keep your best champs-le-sims nectar in. There's also a servant's bellboard in the kitchen and the staff dining room. It along with the "boiler" system are made with tool and CC-free.

The main entrance and parlor are doing their best to continue the gothic revival theme of the exterior. The library and dining room follow in the enfilade starting in the parlor. Since this first house is a corner lot, it has a bit more width and space than a true brownstone. The only actual brownstone I've been inside of is Lady Mendl's, so ofc I had to have an extensive tea setup. Def took a lot of inspo from these two pics alone for these rooms.

The main stairwell and picture gallery lead to three large bedrooms on the second floor, and then up to the children's room and nanny's bedroom on the third floor. I really like skylights. I learned the importance of decent lightwells in staving off depression one semester when my window looked out onto a brick wall

The master bedroom and the children's room above it both have their own private sitting rooms and bathrooms. All rooms have either fireplaces or cast iron radiators.

There's no way this is going to be finished by the time For Rent comes out, so im just going to release it in whatever state it's in when it does come out. The exteriors and interior room layout for all the townhomes will (hopefully) most likely be set by then anyway.

Now available for download!

Also the anniversary of Chez Cromwell is coming up! Ive been gone for the better part of the year due to starting a new job, but I havent been idle. C.Cromwell has been updated for infants and ceilings, which led to me redoing the exterior and almost every room, so a rerelease is coming v soon! Sneak peek below. Happy Thanksgiving!

#sunblind by softerhaze #picture amoebe #drift reshade #heyharrie #lilis-palace #felixandresims #pierisim #reticulating builds #west 70th #the sims 4 for rent #ts4cc #the sims 4 #ts4 build #ts4 wip #sims 4 apartment

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oneforthemunny · 6 months

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blue christmas |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: a look at two very different christmases in eddie's life.

apart of munny's merriest masterlist which you can read here!

contains: sad!eddie. parent guilt. divorce. gina. mainly just very lonely christmas angst but some fluff at then end.

Fourteen Years Before

“Hey, have a good one, Munson!” Phil waved a gloved hand, locking the body shop for the night. “Have a Merry Christmas!” Even Christmas Eve held its fair share of wrecks, cars breaking down in the snow, plenty of business even on the holiday.

“Yeah, you too!” Eddie waved back, hands shoved deep in his utility jacket, heavy and warm for the colder months. His hands fiddled around with the cigarette carton in his coat pocket, pulling out his keys with the cigarette, letting it hang from his lips as he slid into the truck.

The roads were empty, cleared of any traffic on his way to his apartment. The twinkling lights in the yards, strung merrily and proudly for all to see mocked him, a dull reminder of what wasn’t waiting for him at home.

Home. He used that term loosely.

The apartments were cheap for a two bedroom, close to Brielle’s school and Eddie’s work. Gina had got the house in the divorce. Eddie didn’t want it, couldn’t afford it on his own after she’d cleared out what little he had. His thumb rubbed over his ring finger out of habit, meeting the calloused skin there instead of the gold band he wore for eight years.

Eight years. Eight Christmases spent with Gina, with Brielle. They were far from perfect. He and Gina usually fought from Thanksgiving to New Years Eve, but at least he had a tree. At least it was decorated, and there were presents under the tree.

At least he wasn’t alone.

Eddie’s heart ached, a jabbing pain that spread through his chest, leaving his throat stinging with an uncomfortable burn. He knew the divorce was the right thing to do, when your seven year old asks Santa for her parents to stop fighting, it’s time. Still, he didn’t think it would hurt so badly, that it’d be this lonely.

That he’d miss it this badly.

Maybe he should have toughed it out, should have ignored Gina so he wouldn’t be sitting here, in a pitifully empty apartment, in a deafening silence, nursing a beer on Christmas Eve.

Eddie had put up a ‘tree’, a lighted spiral cone shape he found at a second hand store, after Brielle commented on his lack of decor. “You don’t like Christmas anymore?”

She’d made him an ornament in art class, which he couldn’t hang on the spiraled lights of the tree, so he taped it on. She was happy with it regardless, grinning and telling him about how her art teacher let her make two. “Since you and mom are divorced.” Eddie’s stomach turned. There was something so sickening about hearing his little girl say those words in such a cheery tone. Made him feel like a complete sack of shit.

Eddie looked at the clock on the stove, flashing bright, green numbers back at him. He worked later than expected, it was nearly eight, but knowing Brielle she was far from ready for bed- Santa's coming tonight. Eddie’s chest tightened at the thought- he was missing that.

He grabbed the phone, punching in the numbers carefully, he knew them by heart. The phone rang, and rang.

“Hello?” Gina’s huffy voice came over the other line.

“Hey, Gina.” Eddie said awkwardly. “I, uh, I just got home. I was gonna talk to Brielle if she’s still up.”

“Yeah, she’s still up.” Gina huffed, and he could practically see her eye roll, snarled lips. “You were supposed to call at seven.”

“I know, I know. I just- I got busy at work. Had to stay overtime.” Eddie ran a hand down his face, knee bouncing.

“Great. She’s gonna be even more wild now. She’s already losing her damn mind- Brielle, get out of your stocking or I’m throwing it away!” Gina pulled the phone away, shrilling. Eddie’s lips curled, hearing the cackle in the background, she was his daughter.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Eddie started.

“-Just, whatever. Don’t get her fucking wild, Eddie, I swear to God.” Gina snapped. The phone rustled. “Here.” Gina’s voice was muffled, before the phone settled.

“Hello?” The little chirp on the other end had Eddie’s heart swelling.

“Hi, Munchkin.” Eddie grinned softly, voice lilting higher. “Merry Christmas.”

“It’s Daddy!” Brielle shrilled. “Hi, Daddy. Merry Christmas.”

“Are you still up?” Eddie sighed softly. “You’re supposed to be asleep. Santa’s coming soon, Brie.”

“I’ll sleep in a little bit.” Brielle huffed lightly, she sounded like her mother. “When are you comin’ home? I saved you one of the Snowman cookies before Santa eats them, and I have reindeer food to put on the roof. It has glitter in it this time so they can see better.”

Eddie paused, words choked around the lump in his throat, heart sinking low into the pit of his stomach.

“Daddy?” Brielle asked, pulling the phone back. “I think it got undone-”

“-No, no, I’m here, Brielle.” Eddie’s voice was tight, hand pressed into his eyes. “Um, I-I’m not coming home tonight, remember?” A ragged breath shook out of his chest, and he hoped she didn’t hear it. “I’m coming to get you tomorrow afternoon, and we’re going to Grandpa’s.”

“Oh,” Brielle’s tiny voice was filled with disappointment, it tore Eddie’s heart right out of his chest. “Even on Christmas?”

“Yeah, baby. Even on Christmas. Remember me and mom told you, you’d get two Christmases. One with each of us.” Eddie tried to keep his voice steady.

“But not together?” Brielle muttered, a complete turn around from her previous excited tone.

“No, not together. I’m sorry, Brie.” Eddie pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath in to keep his emotions in.

“That’s ok.” Her tone told him otherwise.

“But I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? And you can tell me all about what Santa brought you, and then we’ll go to Grandpa’s and you’ll have even more gifts to open.” Eddie hoped his tone was convincing.

“Ok.” Brielle muttered sadly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Daddy.”

“Yeah, you will, I promise.” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, nose burning with tears. “Good night, Brie. Dream of those sugar plums, alright? Love you.”

“G'night. Love you.” Brielle repeated solemnly.

The phone rattled for a moment, Eddie clearing his throat lightly. The line settled for a moment and he waited for Gina’s voice. A harsh dial tone came instead.

Eddie tried to ignore the hurt that pounded in his chest. He felt grimy, gross, and disappointed in himself. He felt alone, most of all.

Shaky fingers punched the buttons on the phone, knee bouncing as he lit a cigarette, pulling the ashtray closer to him on the kitchen table. “Hello?” Steve Harrington’s accommodating tone came through the line, a loud screech of children’s laughter in the background.

“Hey, Steve.” Eddie cringed at the shake in his tone, swallowing. “Sorry to bother you, I, uh, I just wanted to-”

“-Daddy! One present, please?”

“Yeah! Just one! One!”

“Hang on,” Steve huffed. “No, ok? Mom said no, and you know she’s the boss. You better stop, alright? It’s not too late to get on Santa’s bad list. I’ll call him right now and tell him to skip the Harrington residence-”

“No!” A chorus of cries in the background made Eddie smile, his chest aching even more with an unfamiliar feeling.

Tiny stampedes of feet cleared in the background. “Sorry, it’s a zoo over here, Ed.” Steve snorted lightly.

“Yeah, no, I get it.” Eddie laughed lightly, stopping himself gently. “Well, actually, I don’t. That’s, uh, that’s actually why I was calling.” Eddie exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead. “I, uh, I just called Brielle, and she’s-”

“-Steven! I need help in here!” Nancy’s voice pierced through the phone, sharp even in the background.

“Fuck. Hey, Ed, can I call you back? We’re trying to make cookies, and they’re decorating the baby.” Steve sighed. “I’m telling you, these kids are insane. I’m about to rip my hair out, and I still gotta make a fuckin’ dollhouse.” Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper.

“Yeah, no, I get it. Don’t worry about it, man.” Eddie felt his waterline flood. “Go be with your family.”

“Alright, I gotta go. Merry Christmas, Munson.” Steve hummed over the line.

“Merry Christmas.” Eddie muttered, the dial tone cutting him off again.

He leaned back in the dining room chair, cigarette burning between his fingers. Alone.

Present

“Eddie!” You called, wrangling the squirming one year old in your arms, Delilah was determined to get to the shiny presents, squealing and cackling. She was just crawling, thankfully, toddling but not as sure, but she was fast.

“Ed, get the phone!” You yelled, the trill of the landline Eddie still had around filled the house. Brielle in front of you, in pajamas that matched her little sisters, phone dangling from her grasps.

“She’s gonna open a present tonight.” Brielle giggled, recording her sister happily.

“Yeah, or tear the tree down.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “I told you a candy cane was too much.” You glared at Eddie playfully. He’d snuck her tastes of a candy cane earlier at your parent’s house, laughing at how her eyes lit up.

Eddie grinned, snagging the phone off the hook. “Hello?”

There was a silence, the tiniest hitch of a breath on the other line. Eddie frowned, looking down at the caller id. “Hello?”

“Is Brielle there?” The huffy, snide of a tone that he’d know anywhere. Gina. Why she was calling him on Christmas Eve, he wasn’t exactly sure, but he had an idea that it was due to Brielle’s silent treatment towards her after Gina’s rage filled rant about Lilah’s birth.

“Hello, Gina. Merry Christmas to you.” Eddie clipped, eyes rolling. “Yeah, she’s here.”

Gina paused, and Eddie could picture her even now, nails tapping against the table furiously, anxiously. “Well, can you- can I talk to her?”

Eddie’s head turned, his gaze meeting Brielle’s. She shook her head, brows raised nearly in offense at the suggestion. “Uh, Gina, she-she’s kinda busy right now-”

“-Right.” Gina scoffed, tone harsh but Eddie could hear it, the traces of hurt lingering in the defensiveness. “Guess she likes the child bride more than her actual mother-”

“-Alright, Gina.” Eddie huffed. “You have a good one. Merry Christmas.”

“Wait!” The shrill in her tone, desperate and alarming.

Eddie waited, holding the phone back to his ear. Gina huffed, taking in a deep breath. “Can you… Can you talk to her?” Her voice was small, quiet. “Just-Just tell her I want to see her, and I have gifts for her, and-and,” There was a pause, a shaky breath. “Tell her I miss her and I love her?”

Eddie’s chest ached for her sympathetically. He knew she deserved it, that Brielle was probably in the right with her cruelty. Still, Eddie sympathized with her. The bitter loneliness of being alone during the holidays.

“Yeah, Gina. I can do that.” Eddie nodded slowly, his voice dropping. “I’ll, uh, I’ll tell her.”

“Thanks.” The word was clipped, drowned in disdain and followed with a sniffle.

“Have a Merry Christmas, Gina.” Eddie sighed softly, hanging up the phone with a final click.

He turned back to the living room. You and Brielle were still desperately trying to distract Lilah from the shining ornaments with her toys, rattling and shaking them in front of her so she squealed, only to turn back to the tree.

Eddie smiled, scooping up the baby, tossing her in the air gently so she screeched in laughter. “She’s never going to sleep.” You grinned warmly, starry eyed watching Eddie cuddle your baby.

“Nah, she’ll sleep in a little bit.” Eddie shrugged, snuggling her close to his chest. Delilah turned into his touch, face pressing into his chest, rubbing her face sleepily into the soft cotton of his Christmas pajama shirt that matched with his girls.

His brows shot up, grinning triumphantly. You snorted, rolling your eyes lightly. “Alright, Santa. What kind of cookies do you want?”

“Whatever kind you wanna make me, bunny. ‘M not picky.” Eddie hummed, rocking Delilah against his chest gently.

“I bought the Snowman sugar cookie ones.” Brielle smiled brightly. “I can make them.”

Eddie’s chest filled with warmth, looking down at the tiny girl in his arms, heavy lids pulling shut with sleep, knuckling at them. The lights on the tree seemed brighter and brighter as the years passed. A real tree this time, filled with ornaments and memories hanging on the branches, room for more as the years went on.

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corroded-hellfire · 6 months

Text

Thanks for the Help - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

A collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs, who I'm eternally thankful for 💛

Summary: The first Thanksgiving as Eddie's girl comes with some unexpected pressures, but also some unexpected kindness.

Note: Happy Thanksgiving!

Words: 5.9k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Did I already get all the ingredients for the green bean casserole out? Oh God, did I set the oven to the right temperature for the turkey? I’m missing a vegetable. What am I missing? Jesus, did the carrots just disappear?

Frantic is an understatement for how you’re scrambling about the kitchen, trying to do twenty things at once. Sure, you’ve cooked meals for people before—hell, you’ve cooked many meals for the Munson family before. But this is Thanksgiving. Arguably the most important meal of the year. You refuse to screw it up.

What if the boys are disappointed in your cooking? Of course Eddie would say he enjoyed it no matter what, but you want the truth. The boys are good with the truth—for the most part, anyway. Luke can be brutally honest at times. Some days it’s refreshing, some days you wish the kid would keep his mouth shut when he says that the skirt you're wearing is an “old lady skirt.”

Eddie is useless in the kitchen—occasionally detrimental. The boys are too young to be of any great help to you, either. It’s all on you. You’re either going to sink or swim, you’re just having some issues getting into the water.

This is the first Thanksgiving that the boys aren’t spending with both of their parents. Both you and Eddie were curious how they would react to this, but they don’t seem to be deviating from their usual, cheerful selves at all. Part of you is worried they’re going to compare your cooking to Brittany’s. Will they wish their mom was here cooking instead of you? No, you know with absolute certainty that isn’t the case. Even if they do prefer Brittany’s cooking to yours, there is no way they would want their mother here instead of you. Not to mention that Brittany had scampered off to California to visit her family. Eddie tried to have the conversation with her about where the boys would go, but she just rolled her eyes and told Eddie she already had plans. No Brittany already makes this Thanksgiving better than any he’s had in years.

For you, this only added pressure—not only were you cooking an entire Thanksgiving dinner, but you also had to ensure that Luke and Ryan weren’t distraught over this abrupt change in family traditions. Eddie has told you many times not to be nervous, but since when did that work for anybody? “Don’t be nervous.” Oh great, thank you for the advice, I’m not nervous anymore!

Last night as you were getting into bed, Eddie could tell you were on edge and tugged you over to lay on his chest so he could hold you.

“What’s going on?” he’d asked.

You hadn’t said it out loud to him yet. You knew you could, it’s just embarrassing. Plus, Brittany was never a pleasant topic to discuss. But this is Eddie; you could bare your soul to him, and he’d still be there holding you.

“I’m scared that I won’t be able to cook as good of a meal as Brittany and the boys will be disappointed,” you’d admitted.

Eddie let out a heavy sigh and softly rubbed up and down your back.

“Sweetheart, half the time we were at one of her relative’s houses, anyway. Brittany only cooked Thanksgiving a handful of times. You cook far better than she does. The boys are so happy to have you with us this year. I’m so happy to have you. Plus, I’m the alternative here. Anything you make will be a masterpiece compared to whatever I’d come up with.”

His words had soothed you a little, but when you woke up this morning, the dread still slithered throughout your chest. You feel a bit more relaxed when you see two sleepy-headed boys coming down the hall in their pajamas. Luke’s curls are a mess—more so than usual. And Ryan has a few sections of his hair that are standing straight up. What do these kids do in their sleep?

“Good morning,” you greet them.

“Mornin’,” Ryan mumbles. You only get a half-hearted wave from Luke in response.

“You guys want some cereal?” you ask. It might be a nice break from searching for ingredients and running around in circles.

“S’the parade on yet?” Luke asks before letting out the longest yawn that you’ve ever heard.

“About seven more minutes, bud,” you tell him. “Cereal?”

“Yes, please,” Ryan says.

“Sure!” Luke adds.

You turn to Eddie, who is leaning up against the counter and inspecting his fingernails like he has not a care in the world. “Um, babe?”

“Ya?”

“Can you get the boys their breakfast?” The request is terse, your anxiety amplifying your frustration that he’s taking up space in the kitchen without doing anything.

Eddie throws Lucky Charms and milk in plastic bowls and brings them over to his sons, flipping through the channels until he gets to one showing the parade. Ryan and Luke buzz with excitement as the New York Fire Department kicks off the event, oversized balloons trailing not far behind.

“I could be one of those balloon string people,” Luke says as a gigantic Garfield floats by.

Ryan rolls his eyes. “It would carry you away,” he answers with a smirk.

Luke’s eyes light up, excited by the prospect of this impromptu voyage. “Where?”

“Over the rainbow. In Munchkinland,” Ryan deadpans, crunching on his cereal.

“Hey, Scarecrow, Tin Man, be nice,” Eddie says and picks up a couch pillow to bop each of them on the head with from behind, making his way back over to where you’re prepping veggies.

He comes up behind you, resting his hands on your hips. “Baby, did you even have breakfast yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar,” you say distractedly, trying to find the right page in a cookbook.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles. “Sweetheart, come on. Sit down with me. Eat something.”

“I have to get the turkey in the oven and get everything else prepped so I’m not scrambling for ingredients…” you explain, closing a drawer with your hip.

He laughs kindly. “And you will, right after you eat an actual meal. You won’t be much of a chef if you faint.”

“Just let me make sure I have all the ingredients for the green bean casserole. I know it’s in this damn book somewhere.” You lick your forefinger as you flip through the pages on a mission to find the recipe.

Eddie sighs and drops his forehead down to your shoulder. He knew you were going to put too much pressure on yourself today, even after he tried to explain to you last night that there’s no reason to stress about anything. At this point, any further reassurance would likely be a waste of breath, so he just grabs a slice of carrot and absentmindedly pops it in his mouth.

You can no longer hide your frustration, even if you wanted to. “Eddie, what the hell?” Anger seeps through your gritted teeth when you chastise him.

“Hmm?”

For fuck’s sake, you think, sighing in annoyance. “You’re eating the ingredients!”

“It was one carrot slice!”

When you glare at him, Eddie puts his hands up in surrender and starts to back away, nearly bumping right into Ryan.

“Uh uh,” Eddie says, shaking his head when his oldest son drops his empty bowl in the sink. “Kitchen’s gonna have enough going on today. Wash your bowl and put it away, please.”

Ryan does as he’s told, though his mind wanders back to all the things he learned about Thanksgiving at school this week. He looks over at you while you prep the turkey, a huge grin on his face.

“Did you know they don’t think there really was a turkey at the first Thanksgiving? Oh! And the first Thanksgiving lasted three days!”

You’re only half listening as you focus on basting the bird up with butter, careful not to miss a spot.

“That’s pretty cool, Ry,” you say with half-hearted enthusiasm.

“And they think there were only five women there. That’s crazy!” Ryan continues.

Luke wanders into the kitchen and Ryan tells him what Eddie did—to wash and put away his bowl. He does, but not as willingly or thoroughly as his brother.

Once the boys go back out to watch the rest of the parade, you breathe a sigh of relief. Now maybe you can chop the rest of the carrots without accidentally slicing a finger.

The agitation that’s built up in you over the course of the morning starts to abate as you’re able to get a few tasks accomplished. You wash your hands in the sink, hoping the lemon scent of the soap will take some of the stench of onion off of them. As you turn around to grab a paper towel, Ryan strolls back into the kitchen. You hate the surge of irritation that floods through you. Ryan didn’t do anything wrong; he’s just walking around his own home.

“Can I help?” he asks, adorable smile on display.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” you say as you look around at all the supplies spread out on the countertops. Anything that needs to be done next involves a knife, the oven, or stove. Nothing that Ryan is old enough to work with. “I’ll let you know when there’s something I need you for, okay?”

“Okay,” he says with a shrug.

Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. Maybe now he’ll go back out with Luke or go bug Eddie. But he stays in the kitchen, bouncing around on the balls of his feet as he looks at the different ingredients that are out.

“President Lincoln is the one who made Thanksgiving a national holiday. In 1863!”

Two things you would never do are tell one of the boys to shut up or discourage them from learning. The little devil on your shoulder wants you to do exactly that, though. Before you can say anything, Luke skips into the kitchen and glides over the linoleum floor with his socked feet. He pushes past his older brother to be closer to you.

“We learned all ‘bout the Mayflower! And the Pur…purit…purg…uh…” he trails off.

“Puritans?” you say, tone harsher than you intended. Luckily, neither of the boys notice.

Luke pipes up this time. “I made a pilgrim hat in school, but then it, um, it broke.”

Ryan cocks a curious eyebrow. “It broke? How?”

“I sat on it.”

Eddie sees the boys getting underfoot and swoops in. “Parade’s back on,” he reports, ushering them back over to the couch before spinning around to face you. “I can help chop, if that’ll help.”

You begrudgingly agree, handing him a knife and a butternut squash.

He hasn’t even been at the task for two minutes when he yelps, “son of a bitch!”

You jump, startled by the sudden noise. “Wh-What?” you ask at the same time the boys call out, “swear jar!” in unison.

“Cut my finger,” Eddie mumbles, shoving his forefinger in his mouth while you huff and grab a paper towel. “Jeez, it was an accident. What’s going on with you?”

You massage the bridge of your nose, feeling like you have three kids in the house instead of just two. “Nothing,” you reply, fist clenched, “just…go put a Band-Aid on.”

With his dad occupied in another room, Ryan wanders into the kitchen.

“Did you know that female turkeys don’t gobble?”

Did you know that this female human is about to lose her patience? You keep the snark to yourself, though part of you thinks your tongue will fall off with how much you’ve been biting it today.

You’re the first one to listen to what the boys did in school, what they learned, and help them with their homework. You read with them, quiz them, even hit them with your own trivia tidbits. On any other occasion you’d absolutely love this. But now? Now it’s grating on you like sandpaper against your skin.

“It’s a commercial,” Luke announces as he joins the gang in the kitchen. He stays quiet for a moment, and with your back to him since you’re checking the potatoes on the stove, you think he may have left, but then you hear, “can we get McDonalds?”

Luckily, Ryan answers for you. “No, it’s Thanksgiving!”

“Oh. Right.”

When Eddie returns, one of the boys’ SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aids wrapped around his finger, he presses a kiss to your cheek. You start to smile, feeling yourself relax until you watch him skim some of the fried onions for the green bean casserole.

“Boys, do you wanna help?” Your palms tightly gripping the edge of the countertop is the only thing keeping you from imploding.

“Yes!” Luke begins to jump up and down, flashing a gigantic smile.

“What can we do?” Ryan asks, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder to prevent him from going airborne.

You muster up all of the enthusiasm you can, which isn’t much. “It’s a very important job. Are you guys up for it?”

“Yeah!” they cheer in unison.

“Okay.” You lean in as though sharing a precious secret. “I need you to be my little security guards. Your dad,” you gesture to Eddie, “has sticky fingers and keeps stealing ingredients. Can you two keep an eye on everything to make sure he doesn’t take anything else?”

“Aye aye!” Luke salutes like he’s taking orders in the military.

“He’ll never get past us!” Ryan promises.

Eddie raises his fingers from behind them. “And, um, what can I do?” he asks.

“You wanna help? Uh…set the table?” you offer with a shrug.

You can vaguely hear him mumble under his breath about that being a kid’s job; the boys hear it, too, and they laugh.

“It’s like you’re the kid and we’re the grown-ups!” Ryan giggles. Eddie ignores him and puts down placemats.

Both Luke and Ryan take their job very seriously; every time Eddie even looks in your direction, they’re on high alert, shooing him away. This gives you a bit of peace and allows you to accomplish more tasks than when you had three Munsons trampling through the kitchen like wildebeests.

The apartment buzzer rings, followed by a cheery, Southern accent-twanged, “it’s me!”

“GRANDPA!” Luke shouts, bolting for the door. He buzzes Wayne in while Eddie reaches over his head to unbolt the lock.

Wayne walks through the door a few minutes later, carrying an apple pie just as he promised. His brows crease when he takes in the sight of you practically tripping over the boys in the kitchen, trying to do everything yourself.

“You’re not helping her?” he asks his nephew, a slight accusation in his tone.

Eddie holds up his bandaged finger. “I’ve been banished.”

Wayne pulls him aside, dropping his volume to a whisper. “I’ll work on dinner. You go cheer up your girl before she starts to cry.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Cheer her up, like…right now?”

Confusion contorts Wayne’s mouth for just a moment. “What…oh, Jesus. Not like that. Just give her a pep talk.” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “What are you, a goddamn animal?”

“Take a break, darlin’.” Wayne says, turning to you. “I can handle things in here.” This much you know from his countless stories as an army cook.

With the eldest Munson controlling the kitchen, Eddie takes the opportunity to pull you aside, into the bedroom. He puts his hands on your shoulders. “Can you take a deep breath for me, babe?” He smiles when you inhale for three seconds and then exhale slowly. “Look, I know you want this to be perfect, but I’m gonna love you whether we have the fanciest dinner or PB&Js.”

You try your best to listen to him, but there’s still this nagging sensation in your brain. “But the boys—”

“Sweetheart, they think Kraft mac and cheese is the pinnacle of fine cuisine. They just want to spend time with you.”

You nod, logically knowing that Eddie is right, but your mind still not fully accepting it.

“I want to make it the best it can be for them.”

Despite your stressed out and anxious state, Eddie can’t help but smile. It’s an adoring smile as he pulls you against his chest. He presses a few soft kisses to the side of your head before resting his own against it.

“I love how much you love them,” he says. “You know what would make this the best Thanksgiving for them? Including them, just like you did. I know they had to be driving you up the wall, but you didn’t tell them to quit it or get out. Instead, you gave them jobs and made them feel important. Princess, all they want—all we all want—is to sit around the table with the people we love and eat and laugh and just enjoy the time together.”

“That sounds lovely,” you admit with a dreamy sigh that makes Eddie chuckle.

“This is already my favorite Thanksgiving,” he tells you. ‘All my favorite people are under one roof. The delicious food you make is just going to be the icing on the cake.”

“We have pie, not cake,” you tease, poking a finger into Eddie’s chest. But your lips do quirk up in the approximation of a smile. Eddie takes this as a win and gives you a big smacking kiss on your forehead.

Wayne has a well-oiled machine going when you walk back into the kitchen. He hardly even looks tired; he completely has control over the situation. Since Eddie was busy in the other room talking with you, your small security guards are apparently taking a break from their shifts.

Ryan is still spouting out facts to his grandfather about the holiday. Now, it makes you chuckle as you listen to him giving a history lecture. Between Wayne swooping in to be your hero and Eddie trying to calm you down, there’s less pressure on you. You’re able to appreciate the enthusiasm of the boys and how they’re getting into the spirit of the holiday. With one more deep breath, you know you’re ready to get back in the kitchen and work alongside Wayne.

“Grandpa,” Ryan says as Wayne checks on the turkey. “I’ll tell you this because I know Daddy won’t care. Football on Thanksgiving didn’t become a tradition until 1876!”

“Huh,” you muse as you open a can of green beans. “Do you know who it was between?”

“It was Yale and Princeton!”

Of course he knows that, too. Ryan never ceases to amaze you. You’re pretty sure he knows more now than you ever will. Maybe you could get him to help you with your statistics course that’s being a pain in the ass. You chuckle at the thought of Ryan attempting to explain the equations to you, getting frustrated every time you just stare at him in confusion.

Eddie walks into the kitchen and looks around, eyes landing on his eldest son.

“All I heard was, ‘Daddy won’t care.’ What exactly wouldn’t I care about?”

“Football,” Ryan says.

“You got that right,” Eddie says and musses up Ryan’s hair. “Could be worse though—at least it’s not basketball.”

Luke frowns. “Why don’t you like basketball?”

Wayne shakes his head like don’t get him started.

“All they do is shoot balls into laundry baskets! And they’re already, like, seven feet tall! It’s barely a challenge!” Eddie’s whiny protests are adorable, though it’s very clear that’s not his intention.

Luke shuffles over and whispers in Ryan’s ear, “I wonder if it’s ‘cause Uncle Steve and Uncle Lucas were on the team and were better than Daddy at it.”

The two children–or three really, with how Eddie’s been acting today–take their sports arguments into the living room while you and Wayne continue to cook.

“I gotta tell ya,” the older man says as he measures out the butter to put in the mashed potatoes, “I’ve never seen Eddie and the boys like this.”

“What, acting the same age?” you tease with a smirk.

Wayne chuckles and shakes his head. “Wasn’t gonna be what I said, but that don’t come as a shock to me neither. No, I ain’t ever seen them so happy before. Not ‘cause it’s a holiday and they’re all excited; in general. They’re happier overall. And that’s ‘cause of you.”

Emotion tightens your throat. To know that Wayne can see from an outside perspective that Eddie and the boys are happier having you around? It makes you feel light as air, but you could also burst into tears. Not of sadness, or even happiness really, just tears of so much emotion building up inside of you. Luckily, you don’t have to come up with anything to say because Wayne continues talking.

“I know the two of ya haven’t been together that long,” Wayne says with a shrug, “but I can tell by the way you two look at each other.”

“He’s my person,” you agree, managing to squeak the words out.

“I can’t wait to be at your wedding someday,” he says, emotion clear in his voice as well. “Think I might be almost as excited as those two knuckleheads out there. The small ones, that is. Darlin’, you fit right in with our family.”

In all the time you’ve known Wayne, you’ve never heard him open up like this. To anyone, let alone you. The two of you made friendly conversation when you were still the babysitter and have had some pretty long conversations with one another now that you’re Eddie’s girl. But nothing like this. It makes you take his words even more to heart; you do fit in with this family.

“That means a lot,” you say in a soft voice. Shyness suddenly creeps up in you. “I just want to make this extra special for all of them, especially now that they don’t live together full-time.”

A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, startling you.

“Mine.” Eddie punctuates his declaration with a kiss to your cheek. You giggle and turn around in his arms, only to find he’s snagged a green bean from the bowl.

“Eddie Munson, I swear to God!”

The nerves that had dissipated over the course of the day start to work their way back up as all the food is set on the table and everyone begins to take a seat. You have no doubt that some of the dishes will taste great, but those would certainly have been made by Wayne. If anything on the table is bad, you’re sure that will fall in your lap.

As if he can read your mind, Eddie slips an arm around you and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispers.

You follow his instructions and take your seat at the table, right next to Ryan. Eddie’s seat is at your other side, the head of the table–if it could even be called that with a table this small.

Everyone but your boyfriend is seated, but Luke looks like he’s ready to dive headfirst into the sweet potato casserole. When the turkey had come out of the oven a little while ago, Eddie asked if Wayne wanted to have the honor of carving it. His uncle just shook his head and told Eddie that’s his job now.

Now, Eddie stands in front of the turkey, and as you look up at him, you can see a smile quirking the corners of his lips. He clears his throat and looks out at his family sitting around him. Making a toast wasn’t something Eddie planned on doing today, but in the moment it feels right.

“So, uh, this Thanksgiving looks different for all of us this year. It’s been a bit of a weird year, but it led us to this. All of us being at this table right now with each other. Looking around at everyone’s faces I’m pretty sure everyone is smiling a little bigger, too.” Eddie lifts his glass. “My favorite people in the world are all right here with me. You all are what I’m most thankful for—not just today, but every day. So, cheers to a happy Thanksgiving.”

Everyone clinks their glasses together, and Luke makes sure that everyone has touched their own glass to everyone else’s. To no one’s surprise, Luke is also the first one to comment on the food once everyone has dug in.

“I wanna eat this food every day.” He shoves a forkful of green bean casserole in his mouth as if to prove his point.

“It really is great, sweetheart,” Eddie concurs. He reaches over and rubs his hand along your arm affectionately. Purely in a teasing manner, Wayne clears his throat, which leaves Eddie to add, “And you too, Uncle Chef Boyardee.”

Ryan’s too busy stuffing his face to speak, but it makes you chuckle at how focused he is on the food. Normally, Luke’s the one with that appetite intensity. He slows down quickly though, his eyes far bigger than his belly. His fork trails through some butter pooled in a small puddle on his plate when he gets an idea.

“Let's say what we’re thankful for! Grandpa first.”

“Easy,” Wayne says once he’s swallowed his mouthful of food. “Family.”

“New traditions,” Eddie says when Ryan points at him. Next, the finger is aimed in your direction.

“Love and acceptance.”

Eddie’s leg purposefully brushes against yours, so you gently tap your foot against his.

“I’m thankful for you!” Ryan grins up at you, two missing baby teeth only adding to his adorableness. He wraps both of his arms around your one and gives it a hug. “I’m so happy I get to see you more.”

“It makes me happy too,” you say as you rest your head against his, emotions once again threatening to get the better of you. “I have so much fun with you guys.”

Luke takes it upon himself to announce what he’s thankful for since all attention is currently diverted away from him.

“I’m thankful no one’s got scurvy, and for my dog,” the six-year-old announces.

“Luke, you don’t have a dog,” Eddie says.

The little boy shrugs before spearing a piece of turkey on his fork.

“That’s what you think.”

You, Eddie, and Wayne all share confused expressions that lead you to giggle, which in turn has everyone at the table laughing as well.

Eddie and the boys do most of the clearing of the table when everyone’s finished, since they didn’t cook, but you and Wayne pitch in as well. Right after Luke puts a dirty bowl in the sink, he gasps and bolts out of the room. If it were anyone else, one of you might question it, but it’s Luke.

He runs back in and slides to a stop right in front of you. The way he starts jumping up and down makes you worry that he’ll puke, so you gently rest your hands on his shoulders to keep him grounded.

“I made this for you!” He proudly brandishes a hand turkey he made at school. “I made it ‘specially for you!”

“For me?” you ask, your hand coming up to rest on your chest.

“Yes! I knew as soon as we started making ‘em in class, I wanted to give mine to you.”

This is the one. This is the straw that broke the camel’s back today that has the tears finally emerging. You bend down to give Luke a big hug, trying to hide the tears while doing so–you’re not sure if he’d understand that you’re crying for a good reason.

“Thank you,” you tell him. “I love it so much. Can I put it on the refrigerator?”

“Uh huh.”

You move a few scattered magnets out of the way to place the hand turkey front and center on the fridge. It gets held up with a magnet shaped like a heart–which Luke made at school for Valentine’s Day. While you’re busy admiring your new favorite art exhibit, Eddie and Ryan have left the kitchen and headed into the living room. You don’t even notice until there’s a crash in the room just a few feet away.

“We’re okay!” Eddie calls. “Just a VHS avalanche.”

Chuckling to yourself, you walk out of the kitchen and tilt your head in curiosity.

“What’re we watching?”

Ryan holds a VHS up over his head in triumph, leaving Eddie to be the sole person to clean up the avalanche of fallen movies.

“A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!”

Luke comes into the room behind you and taps your hip to get your attention. “Are you going to watch the movie with us?”

“Of course I am,” you say, giving his curls a ruffle. “I love this movie. But I love you Munsons even more.”

A grin so bright lights up Luke’s face that it leaves you a little surprised. He looks more excited than when you told him he had most of this week off from school the other day.

Eddie gets up now that the VHS tapes are fixed.

“Why don’t you two put the movie in?” he asks as he walks over towards you. “Babe, will you help me put the pie in the oven?”

“Sure,” you say, a little confused about what he’d need help with. Opening the oven, putting the pie in, and then closing it seems like a pretty simple task.

Eddie takes your hand and leads you into the kitchen. He stops right in front of the oven and peeks over your shoulder to make sure the boys didn’t follow. When he sees the coast is clear, he rests his hands on your hips and gives you a small smile.

“You just looked a little confused about Luke’s reaction,” he says, before smirking and adding, “I may not be a competent cook, but I can put a pie in the oven by myself.”

“I’ll still be here for supervision if you need it,” you tease. “But yeah, Luke looked like someone just told him he was getting that dog, not that I’m watching a movie.”

Your boyfriend sighs and rubs his hands up and down your sides, letting his thumbs dip under the hem of your shirt.

“We watch The Charlie Brown Thanksgiving every year; it’s a tradition. Brittany never watched it with us, though. She’d either be too tired, had to make a phone call, blah blah blah… So, not only the fact that you’re watching it with us, but you’re happy to watch it with us is something new to him.”

Tears flood your eyes, and you feel your heart double in size in your chest. You’re pretty sure this day is going to kill you before it’s out.

“I didn’t realize it meant that much to him.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says with an adoring smile. “You mean that much to him. To Ryan. To Wayne! God damn, I thought the old man was gonna stick me in the oven when he saw how stressed out you were.”

You let out a soft giggle and take both of his hands in your own. “I don’t think Roast Eddie would have been as good as the turkey.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “I have it on good authority that I taste delicious.”

“You’re a perv!”

As if to prove your point, Eddie grabs your ass.

“Only for you, babe.” He laughs and takes a deep breath. “But I really am sorry that I stressed you out today. I’m so used to you having everything under control; it didn’t occur to me that you could’ve used my support.”

You nod and give the one hand you’re still holding a small squeeze. “It’s okay. And now we know for next year.”

Next year. Because you’re going to be here next year, and every year after that. You’re his girl, part of his family, and he intends to make sure it stays that way.

Eddie grabs the pre-made pie out of the freezer and pops it into the oven. He wipes his hands off on his jeans and takes full advantage of the two of you being alone to pull your body up against his. You think he’s leaning in for a kiss, but he leans in and licks the tip of your nose. The unexpectedness makes you giggle and wrinkle up your face.

“Are you sure you’re the older one in this relationship?” you question.

“Older, yeah. More mature? Never claimed that.” He gives your ass a playful swat before heading back out to the living room, you following along behind him.

Eddie plops down on the couch, Wayne already comfy in the La-Z-Boy recliner next to it. You sit down on the couch as well but leave space between you and Eddie in case either of the boys wants to sit there. Both manage to squeeze themselves between you, making both of you chuckle as you scoot toward the respective arms of the couch. Ryan is on the cushion with Eddie, while Luke sits by your side.

As Eddie hits play on the remote, Luke shifts at your side. He keeps moving and squirming around, never seeming to get comfortable. It’s not unusual for him to be a hyperactive kid but he’s usually ensnared by movies the moment they come on.

“You okay?” you ask him.

He nods twice and looks up at you, a hesitant expression on his face.

“Can you, um… Can I, uh…” He trails off, looking at your arm closest to him. It takes a moment for your brain to figure out what he wants. Happily, you lift your arm and give Luke a smile. He immediately curls into your side, and you wrap your arm around him. You have to take deep breaths to keep yourself from crying for what feels like the millionth time today. You’ve run the gambit of emotions these past twelve hours, so it’s nice to sit here and relax.

You look over and see Eddie watching the two of you, also grinning. Ryan is leaning into Eddie’s side, but not curled up and close like Luke is with you. Needing to express your emotions in some way, you lean down and press a kiss into Luke’s messy curls. His head pops up and he looks at you. Slowly, a big smile spreads on his face, identical to his father’s. Luke leans up and presses a kiss to your cheek before resuming his previous position tucked into your side. This time, a few tears do leak out–you’re just careful not to let them fall on the small boy.

As the movie gets going, you take a second to look at the others in the room; Wayne, relaxing with a can of Diet Pepsi in his hand and watching the movie. Eddie, the television screen reflecting in his big brown eyes. He grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and lays it across his and Ryan’s laps. Then Ryan, who pulls the blanket up to his chin and snuggles back against the cushions to watch the movie. Last but not least, little Luke. The mini-Eddie. A ball of energy one moment, melting your heart with his sweet words the next.

You smile to yourself and whisper, not loud enough for anyone else to hear, “God, I’m so thankful for you all.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS

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lov1ngreid · 5 months

Text

BOYS LIKE YOU | 2

back to PART ONE

(pairings): highschool!spencer + cheerleader!reader

(warnings): none <3

(word count): 4K

(author’s note): hii i’m so happy to see all the love on part one! i’m so sorry this took a little longer than usual to be posted i’ve had a busy few days, i’ve got plans for one more part for this series, i hope you’ve enjoyed so far 🩷🩷 also I don’t know how i feel about the end of this part, so let me know any feedback!!

listen to what i did when i wrote this! ➘

Quickly, you opened his bedroom door to stand at the top of the stairwell, scanning over the living room with ease considering how high up you were. Making sure both your families were occupied with whatever thanksgiving nonsense had presented itself.

Quickly turning your head back to Spencer who stood in the doorway of his bedroom incredibly confused, you silently gestured to him to follow you with the nod of your head, it takes him a few seconds of internally fighting himself before he follows your lead, hopping down the stairs a few beats behind you before the both of you reach the bottom.

“You ready?” You say, getting on your tippy toes to whisper it quietly in his ear, you almost had forgotten how tall he was.

Confused, Spencer’s brows furrow before answering “ready for wh- Ow!” He groaned, hunching over a little at the pain, you felt a little bad for kicking him in the ankle with your boot, but you knew he deserved it a little for being so mean about your cupcake.

“Oh no!” You exclaimed, obviously acting to Spencer but you seemed to have convinced everyone else “I think Spencer sprained his ankle!” Gasping you pretend to comfort him moving him to the dining room chair as he glared at you from the side of his eye, almost instantly his parents had rushed over to the both of you instantly drowning him in worry.

“Are you okay sweetie?” Diana rushed reaching down to touch the ankle he had his hand over, he took a second to look up at you before answering.

“I don’t think so, it really hurts” he huffed rubbing the ankle in question, it shouldn’t have made you smile, but you thought it was sweet that he was going along with your plan and not immediately telling everyone you had just kicked him in the ankle.

It was like when you were kids creating elaborate stories as to why you needed $20 from your parents, claiming it was so you could buy a new textbook for class, when you really just bought Call of duty and played it in his room.

“I can take him to the ER” you offer looking down at Diana “he really shouldn’t be walking on it” nodding, you look between her and Spencer, attempting to read her facial expressions for any suspicions that this one really one big lie.

She looks up at Spencer for a moment, breaking her gaze with him to look at you before nodding “I think that’s a good idea” she smiles reaching up from Spencer to grab your hand in hers, you feel her soft warm palms grasp yours before she rushes to the kitchen for a moment.

Having both your families huddled around the both of you made keeping up the facade incredibly difficult, sure, you could lie to just about everyone and anyone, but lying to your family who knew you more than anything was beginning to become a little difficult.

Diana rushes back with an ice pack before leaning back down to Spencer’s ankle to press it against the bone softly. “Here” your dad mumbles, fishing his car keys from his left pant pocket before tossing them in your direction, so unexpectedly that you barely catch them, fumbling them in the process which causes Spencer to laugh a little beside you.

The first time you had heard him laugh all night, the first time you had heard him laugh in years.

“You’re dead if you scratch that car” your dad sternly tells you before he takes another swig of his beer, pressing your lips together nodding quickly, you glance back down at Spencer for a second seeing a small smirk grow on his face knowing everyone had believed your little coordinated stunt.

After a few moments of hustle, you recruit Brodie to help hobble Spencer out to the black suv as both your parents follow behind, you were still shocked that the scheme had even worked, and that Spencer had gone through with it.

“Why are you here?”

“I thought I’d come along?” Brodie shrugged, clicking his seatbelt before switching his gaze from the backseat between both you and Spencer.

“Get out” you smile nodding for him to leave.

“Why?” He spits, suspicions growing in his mind as his gaze flicks faster between you and Spencer “and since when are you guys even friends?” confused his mouth agape while memories of both Spencer and you being absent from the night caught up to him, if you were going to get away with something, it wasn’t going to be with brodie, that boy was seemingly always one step ahead of you.

He continues to look between the both of you as you both stammer for a response “Oh gross!” He exclaims unbuckling his seatbelt in an instance “are you guys hooking up?” His mouth drops, absolutely staggered by his own conclusion.

Seemingly one step ahead.

You and Spencer stare at each other mouths agape before Spencer begins to loudly, and rudely start fake gagging in response to Brodie claims, shocked you slap Spencer on the shoulder shaking your head in offense, there is no way on earth that boy was seriously fake gagging at the thought of hooking up with you.

“I don’t think there’s a single universe where that would happen” Spencer presses his lips together rubbing his arm where you had inflicted your second act of violence against him tonight.

“Oh?…” Brodie trails off, still incredibly confused on what sort of game you both were playing here.

“I’ll you don’t leave I’ll tell mom how you accidentally linked her credit card to your ark account”

“Okay see ya!” His eyebrows raised before scurrying out of the backseat of the car slamming the door behind him.

You and Spencer sit in comfortable silence for a moment taking deep breaths, both shocked your plan had actually worked.

After a few minutes you break the silence “by the way, in that alternate universe where we don’t hook up, is because I rejected you not the other way around” you point at him before buckling your seatbelt, Spencer only responds by holding his hands up in defense.

The car ride was almost silent other than the sound of the radio quietly playing and your blinker clicking away at each turn, Spencer spent the time gazing out the passenger window watching the houses zoom past him and watched the trees sway in the wind. His mind catches up when he sees the familiar 2 storey white paneled house with your baby blue volkswagen beetle convertible parked in the driveway.

“Why are we at your house?” Spencer questions, concerned, every possible situation flashes through his mind, were you pranking him? Were all your friends waiting there to laugh at him?

You switched the car off before turning to answer “did you think you were going wearing that?” Raking your eyes across his outfit, cringing again at the sight of it “it’s thanksgiving, you’d think you’d at least wear something nice” scoffing you open the drivers seat door before hurrying into your home.

Spencer opens his door before rushing to trail behind you “this is my nice doctor who shirt” he mumbles looking down at his own outfit, ignoring whatever loser sentence had just come from his mouth you push open your door nodding for him to follow.

You don’t turn around to make sure he’s keeping up with you before you hurry up the stairs making a beeline for your bedroom, once Spencer realizes where you’re headed, his footsteps behind you slow down a little only causing you to turn around confused.

“Um I don’t think I should go in there” he mumbled, staring at your bedroom door like he had just seen a ghost.

“Why?” You question, confusion painted over your face.

“It’s just- I don’t know, I just don’t want to” he rushed, face turning pink in embarrassment, it was as if any sort of confidence he had before completely diminished in front of you.

What if he was right? All your friends were sitting in there waiting for him to enter obliviously. He could only imagine how loud their laughs would be, he could almost hear it ringing through his ears.

Tilting your head you watch Spencer as he stands in shock staring at your door, you wave your hand in front of his face, clicking him out of whatever world he had entered “You’re scared of my room?”

“No- no… there’s no one in there, is there?” He sheepishly responds, pink traveling up to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah Spence the whole cheer squad is in there” the colour instantly drains from his pink embarrassment ridden face “no, there’s no one in my room… weirdo” you whisper pulling the door handle to swing it open, Spencer almost flinched at the sight of your bedroom.

Unlike his, your room was completely re arranged, the colour of your walls even had even been painted from pastel pink to light grey. He took a moment to scan around the room, everything had a place, every colour cohesive. He paused a little when he glanced at the numerous photo frames scattered across your bedroom, frames that once held photos of you at dance competitions, photos of you and Spencer riding your bikes or at your birthday parties, had been replaced by photos of your cheer team or you and your group of friends at parties.

Except for the picture frame on your bedside table, inserted with a photo of the both of you from science camp discovering how hydrogen peroxide and potassium iodide reacted for the first time.

He felt his heart unwillingly tighten at the thought that you still cared about him at least a little.

“Alright” you mumble digging through your wardrobe drawers completely oblivious to Spencer wandering your room deep in thought “here!” You exclaim pulling the grey hoodie from the bottom of your drawer, you chuck it at Spencer unexpectedly causing him to stumble backwards a little at the impact.

“Who’s is this?” he wonders, holding the hoodie up to see the garment, which was evidently much too large for you.

“Mine” you answer, while you tried to tidy up your now messy wardrobe, he shoots you a look, and despite you not being able to see, you could feel it by the silence “I like to buy boys hoodies” shrugging you stand back up brushing past him to Brodies room, in search of some pants, letting out a little ‘aha!’ when you found the one nice pair of jeans brodie owned, which you had bought.

You tossed the jeans at his chest which is he surprisingly caught this time around. You stood in the doorway of your room for a moment while Spencer held the pile of clothes in his arms, stunned like a deer in headlights.

“I’m gonna go downstairs so you can change” you nod before closing the door and hopping down the stairs before he could respond.

You hadn’t even had time to check your phone since you had gotten to thanksgiving, switching it on, the screen filled with numerous group chat messages and texts from your friends asking if you were still coming, which only earned a groan from you, you loved your friends, really, but sometimes it felt like they always wanted something from you.

Snapped out of your thoughts by your door snapping closed, you look up from the kitchen island to see Spencer’s black converse stepping down the stairs.

You’d never actually seen him wear anything other than graphic T-shirt’s and sweaters before, and although you thought those were indeed very him. It was like you were seeing a completely different version of him.

a version that didn’t dress like a clone of your brother.

“I feel stupid” he chuckles looking down at what he was wearing.

“You look cute” you smile at him laughing a little before switching your attention back to your phone.

Although a small gesture from you, your words made Spencer huff with a loss of breath, not one person in his entire life besides his mother had called him cute, other than you.

He stood there reminded of the times you used to ensure he looked cute while wearing a tree costume for the annual middle school play, or when he broke his arm and you had to convince him he looked fine with his cast, although he felt stupid you had told him he looked cute, you even drew pink hearts on his cast to make sure he knew.

But you called everyone that, he knew it was your favourite adjective.

“Alright” you chirp snapping him from his thoughts “you ready to go?” Spencer fizzles out from his thoughts to respond with a nod, which you return with a smile grabbing your keys from the kitchen bench.

The car ride remained silence for the most part, ears filled with the speakers softly playing Faye Webster and the sounds of cars buzzing around you.

“You know, you’re a lot quieter then when I tried giving you that cupcake” you chuckle turning for a moment to look at Spencer’s jawline as he gazed out the passenger window.

You only watched him shrug from the corner of your eye before responding “I feel safer in my room… in my house I guess” mumbling Spencer looks down at his lap before he starts to pick at his fingers.

You glance over again, watching how the red like from the traffic light shone over his face, you lick your lips before answering “I like it when you’re nice to me” you admit sheepishly snapping your head to meet the road again.

“I’d like it if your friends were nice to me” he mumbles again not daring to meet your eyes scared of your reaction.

“What?” You respond furrowing your brows in confusion “are they not nice to you?” A concerned look shoots through your face turning to face Spencer once again, this time his gaze meets yours simultaneously.

Spencer’s face reads confused as well, why were you confused? You’d been at high school for almost 4 years at this point, you’d had to be stupid to not realise the social ladder that your peers had created to make people like Spencer feel inferior.

“Are you kidding?” He responds, same confused look painted across his face “they’re not nice to anyone but themselves, you’d have to be blind not to see it” convinced you were playing some sort of game, he doesn’t show any sort of affection in response, but he knew you weren’t stupid.

You both sit in silence for a minute before you muster up a response, you weren’t stupid, you knew your friends weren’t the nicest to everyone but you convinced yourself that if you never indulged it didn’t count, you were never mean to anyone so you never felt as if you had their words on your conscious.

Selfishly because they were never mean to anyone you really cared about, you thought.

“Am I mean to you?” You questioned quickly, searching his face for a reaction, it only twisted in question before he responded.

“I don’t think so” he whispers softly which you barely register over the music.

You knew you were, not outright mean but mean by association, you never stopped their comments about passing by students, you usually never indulged but you were just as mean for letting them go so nonchalantly, cause although not about Spencer, they were about somebody’s Spencer.

It’s almost like you could feel Spencer’s heart beating yourself, the view of the 3 storey modern shaped grey and white home was enough to make Spencer’s heart beat spike while he watched people run in and out of the house, people he knew, people he had classes with.

You couldn’t help yourself but reach over to grab Spencer’s cool hand “you’ll be fine” you nodded giving it a squeeze before letting go to unbuckle your seatbelt.

His heart did something other than beat profusely, it tightened as you dropped his hand, and he hated it.

Trailing behind you like a lost puppy he took a moment to examine his surroundings, he recognised almost every person stumbling in and out of the house from classes or kids he tutored.

Almost instantly, you were embraced by a wave of girls who he had recognised as your cheer friends, laughing and giggling while they squealed about your outfit and hair, he stood behind you feeling like he was made from glass being absolutely ignored by anyone in his vicinity.

He stood staring at the tops of his laces for a moment, the sounds of loud music and chatter filling his ears as he waited for you to turn your attention to him instead.

“Ready?” You chirp as your friends wondered off in different directions, you told them not to wait up, and frankly they were much too indulged in themselves to even register the 6 foot boy hiding behind you like a child.

The last time you had asked if he was ready, you sent your shoe straight to his ankle so he shot a confused look in your direction.

Noticing his concern you chuckle before grabbing his hand to drag him through the sea of drunken teenagers.

He looked down at your hand, your cool rings flush against his own, his eyes widened a little when he felt his heart beat a little faster at the contact, and god he couldn’t stand it.

Eventually you dragged him to the kitchen where only two people had occupied, you dropped his hand behind you to embrace the girl sitting on top of the kitchen island, Spencer recognised her, you and Gianna had been friends since the first day of high school, and she was the only one of your friends Spencer could stand.

“Oh hi Spencer!” She smiled after breaking from your hug, she took a swig of her cup before taking a chance to scan over his outfit “not to be mean or anything, but did you get invit-” although she asked innocently you slapped her in the arm before she could continue.

“I have a love story to witness” smiling you nudge Spencer in the shoulder a little only earning his cheeks to turn pink as he looked down at his shoes a little longer “Sadie Keller has a big fat crush on him and so does he” you laugh making your way over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water, Spencer only nervously laughed at your words.

“Sadie Keller?” Gianna questions tilting her head a little earning a shy nod from Spencer “oh! are you her tutor?” She points at Spencer grinning a little.

“Um..” he mumbled turning to face you “yeah”

“God, she doesn’t stop yapping about you” giggling she takes another sip from her cup, she turns around for a moment scanning through the crowd “Sadie!” She yelled flailing her arm to grab her attention.

Almost frantically he turns to you who looked more than entertained seeing how embarrassed he got, you both look up at the sea of people watching as Sadie’s cherry red hair gets closer and closer pushing through the crowd of teenagers.

Spencer jumps a little at the grasp of your hand again, smiling up at him for a second giving his cold hand a squeeze “good luck Spence” you nod before you beckon Gianna from the kitchen island to leave spencer to fend for himself.

Spencer’s eyes follow you as you walk to the direction of the pool arm in arm with Gianna, before snapping to the pretty girl in front of him.

Your heart tightens just a little as you leave him there, furrowing eyebrows as you notice the feeling, the same feeling you had in seventh grade when he got partnered up with Ava Milligan instead of you.

The sounds of the thumping music fades out at you both walk to the pool outside taking a seat on the edge, it was typical for you and Gianna to sit at the pool together at parties, she was the only person that agreed the party scene wasn’t her favourite, you both were homebodies, but high school hustle made not attending parties sound like social suicide.

Giggling as you slipped your boots and socks off to dip your feet in the cool pool you both sit for a little leaning on each other in a comfortable silence in each others company.

You can’t help but glance through the glass doors into the kitchen, and feel the way your heart thumps at the view of Spencer and Sadie sitting on the kitchen island giggling at god knows what.

What could they possibly be laughing about? what could she have possibly said to make him laugh?

“Okay spill” Gianna mutters, snapping you from your Spencer induced trance, you only shoot her a confused look back “You show up at a party with the boy you’ve been in love with for like forever, I know something’s going on in that pretty little head” she chuckles nudging you a little, causing you to laugh in response.

“I’m not in love with him” you mumble back turning your attention to your feet swaying in the cool water, she raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing a word coming from your mouth.

“Okay, you keep thinking that” she smiles slinging her arm over your shoulder while your heads lean together gazing at the blue water “I just didn’t think you’d pass him off so easily… you know he looks at you the same way you look at him, deny it all you want” she whispers, only the faint sounds of the party and the small water splashing occupying your ears.

You knew she was right, god you were in love with Spencer Reid no matter how much you wanted to deny it, that’s why you kept his stupid photo on your bedside table, and why you made cupcakes every thanksgiving, and why him completely shutting you out hurt so much.

Giannas head lifts from your shoulder at the sound of the glass door snapping shut, your eyes raise to meet Spencer standing there smiling a little at you “my queue to leave” Gianna laughs before leaving a kiss on the top of your head before hopping up from the pool edge grabbing her shoes in one hand nodding at Spencer as they brushed past each other, she turns around to mouth a quick ‘good luck’ before returning to the commotion of the party.

“How’d it go” you beam as he made his way down to sit next to you criss cross at the pool.

“Good… I think but she asked me to go ice skating” he mumbles furrowing his brows a little.

“That’s great!” You foreign excitement reaching to grab his shoulder “why do you look so sad about it?”

“God..” he groans reaching to rub his face with his hands “I can’t ice skate”

You giggle a little at his despair “sure you can… we went together in sixth grade remember?”

“I broke my arm that day”

“Oh” you respond, memories flashing through your head “you did didn’t you, you had that cute little cast I used to draw hearts over” giggling at the memory you continue to swish your feet in the water.

There was that feeling again, his heart thumping a little louder than before, it was like anytime you said something about him that he was sure you wouldn’t remember, his heart skipped a beat, and he could feel his palms get warmer.

“I’ll teach you” you smile pulling him from his thoughts “I don’t think Sadie will want to drive you to the ER for another broken arm” you chuckle bringing your lip up to your teeth for a moment.

“Think of it as a practice date”

“A practice date it is” he chuckles smiling back at you, you both meet each others gaze for a moment, you felt a pit grow in the bottom of your stomach as you both sit in silence searching in each others eyes.

You never could admit it, but he was still the boy you fell in love with in fifth grade, and you were still the girl in love with him.

PART THREE

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justlemmeadoreyou · 1 month

Text

satellite | mechanic!harry part 4

"Harry felt like a satellite. He was being pulled into your orbit, and he could do nothing about it."

Summary: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Harry starts acting better, and you have no idea why, but you've got a place to live. He's happier and bubblier than usual, but still fights with you every now and then. But what will happen when his past catches up on him, and it's you on the line?

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: Swearing, a bit of angst, fighting. Some fluff, and mentions of potential danger.

(series masterlist here)

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“You want coffee? Or…” he trailed off after the one sentence, and you raised your eyebrows at him. He was usually more straightforward than this. To the point talk, always.

But today, he was stumbling on his words, and you had no idea why. “or…? “ you suggested, and he slumped his shoulders in defeat. He walked closer to the couch you were sitting on, and placed his arms on the armrest behind, looking down at your drool-covered cheeks.

“Maybe you should wash your face before. It’s difficult to look at you when you have dried drool on your cheek”

He said, and made a real disgusting face. You wiped your cheek off quickly with your sweatshirt sleeve, and looked at him in disbelief.

“There. Alright?”

He shook his head in a no, scrunching up his nose.

“You know what? Never mind. Go make whatever you want and have it. I have to go and open the garage.”

“It’s 8 am!” you exclaimed, pushing the comforter off you. The floor was cold, and you wiggled your feet in the air.

“Do you…um, maybe have slippers?”

“Duh. I’m not a caveman. In front of the bathroom. And come out fast, I have to take a bath”

“But I was going to bathe first!” you pouted, and he was having a hard time saying no to you.

Especially when you looked like that: hair ruffled and eyes swollen, remnants of tears still glistening on your cheeks.

“Alright. Whatever. Make it quick. I don’t have all day”

“Thank you!” you squealed, hopping off the couch and hugging him involuntarily. You hadn’t realized what you had done until too late, and ran away into the bathroom as fast as you could, picking up the slippers and towel on the way.

Harry felt butterflies in his stomach.

. . .

Harry treated you better than before. And you had no idea why. Maybe it was because he had caused you suffering on the night of Thanksgiving, or because he felt sorry for how badly he treated you earlier. Either way, you were happy.

“You want coffee? Or…” he trailed off after the one sentence, his eyes avoiding yours as he fiddled with the coffee maker.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden offer of kindness. Harry had never been one to make gestures like this before. "Uh, yeah, coffee sounds good," you replied cautiously, watching him closely.

He nodded, still not meeting your gaze. "Alright, I'll make us some."

As he busied himself in the kitchen, you couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this change in his behavior. Was it genuine remorse, or was there something else going on? You decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and appreciate the small act of kindness.

Minutes later, Harry returned with two steaming mugs of coffee and placed one in front of you. "Here you go," he said softly, finally looking at you with a hint of sincerity in his eyes.

"Thanks, Harry," you said, offering him a small smile. Maybe there was hope for your relationship after all.

Sipping the coffee, you purse your lips, watching as he arranged everything back, getting ready to leave for work.

“You need some help?” you asked, and he shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll leave a key by the door and when you leave, you can sweep it under the rug. I’ll take it from there”

When you leave.

As in you can stay if you want to, I’m off to work.

“Oh–I was just leaving, I’ve got work, too, and, yeah, I’ll leave”

He seemed unhappy by that.

“You can stay if you want, I’m not kicking you out”

Your gazes met, and you couldn’t figure out why he was being so good. Given, it was basic human ethics, but, coming from hin, it was unexpected.

“But–I don't want you to tell me that something has gone missing, and then you would blame me for it, and tell me I’m a thief. You’ve insulted me enough. Plus, I have to go apartment hunting today, and my car’s fixed, so we should end this contact right here. I–I will delete your number from my phone too, and–”

What happened after that was unexpected.

You were rambling, and your eyes widened when Harry approached you and brought his hand to your face, squishing your cheeks together and making you stop talking.

“You talk too much”

He let go of your cheeks, sitting at the chair in front of you.

“Listen, I–I wanted to say this yesterday, but you were tuckered out and I had been an asshole, so I knew you wouldn’t talk to me. And that’s fair, believe me I know. And, I want you–fuck, this is hard”

“What’s hard?” you asked, in awe of the shift in his demeanor.

“Okay, here it goes–I want you to be my roommate”

“WHAT?!”

He closed his eyes shut, gulped and nodded.

“Yeah, I–I’ve been thinking about it. I live alone, and my rent just went up, it’s $1400 now, and I need a roommate to be able to afford it. Niall can’t move in either, he’s got this weird living system with his current roommate, and to find a new one, I would have to put up an ad, and with that money, I could buy a week’s groceries.”

You nodded, biting your lip.

“So—?” he pursed his lips, and you just stared at him blankly.

“I don’t know”

“You don’t know?”

“Yeah, I mean…the last time I asked you if you could rent out the place to me, be my roommate. And you responded with cursing and telling me to fuck off, so…forgive me if I’m having a hard time believing you suddenly being good”

“Listen. I know I made mistakes. But last night made me realize I shouldn’t have been so awful. I should have treated you better. You were in trouble and all I did was lash out and curse at you, when I should have helped you out. So if my long-ass speech doesn’t convince you, I have no idea what will. So you can take it or leave it.”

And he’s back at it again.

“Alright, fine! I’ll take it. I’ll need a day or two to move my stuff here. I have a bed and –if you have a spare room I can move in there. Or I can sleep on the couch and not move the bed. I will pay you 700 dollars on the 1st of each month. We can buy groceries and other stuff alternatively. Do you know how to cook?”

He shook his head in a no.

“Okay, then I can do the cooking, you do the dishes and cleaning. Laundry–we can do that separately. And–”

You looked up, thinking of other things.

“I think that’s alright for now”

“Okay”

You both left, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole day.

. . .

"I found a place!" you happily told Mia, and she smiled.

"That's fantastic news!" Mia exclaimed, giving you a congratulatory hug. "But wait, who are you moving in with? I thought you hadn't found a roommate yet."

You hesitated, unsure of how to break the news to Mia. "Well, it's... uh, someone I met recently. It’s the mechanic from–the garage. He's offering a spare room in his apartment."

“NIALL?!!” she exclaimed.

“No, uh, it’s the other one–the grumpy one, Harry”

Mia's expression turned thoughtful as she processed this information. "Hmm, are you sure about this? Moving in with someone you barely know could be risky."

You nodded, feeling a twinge of uncertainty. "I know, but I've been looking for a place for so long, and this just seems like the best option right now. Besides, it's not like I have many other choices."

Mia frowned, clearly concerned for your well-being. "Well, just promise me you'll be careful, okay? And if anything feels off, don't hesitate to reach out to me or someone else."

You smiled gratefully at Mia's concern, feeling reassured by her words. "Thanks, Mia. I'll definitely keep that in mind. And hey, if you're free this weekend, maybe you could help me with the move?"

"Of course!" Mia replied, her expression brightening.

You worked with ease, knowing she had your back. She would also get to see his apartment, and could tell you if she felt something off.

Or if he was a serial killer.

. . .

Harry Styles was not a morning person. In fact, he barely qualified as a person before his first cup of coffee kicked in. So when his new roommate, you, came bounding into the kitchen at 7 AM with a bright "Good morning!" he merely grunted in response.

You didn't seem deterred by his gruff demeanor as you flitted around the kitchen, humming a cheery tune. Harry tried his best to ignore your incessant perkiness and the significant energy in the morning, sipping his black coffee in brooding silence. He seemed to have already regretted letting you live with him. You were up at 6:30 every day. Harry liked waking up early too, but all he did was drink coffee, take a shower, make a boring sandwich, and get off to work. But you, you did yoga in the morning. He never understood how you got the ample energy to do all the stretching and working out. Sure, he worked out too. But, it was mostly at night. There were lesser people to deal with, and even lesser to work out alongside. He would groan whenever he would see your face in the morning: telling you to avoid seeing him at all, because seeing your face jinxed his day.

As a mechanic at the local auto shop, Harry spent his days covered in grease and dealing with demanding customers. The last thing he wanted when he got home was more chaos and noise. You, however, seemed determined to inject as much light and life into your shared flat as possible.

A few days into living together, you had a day off. You were bored, so you decided to bake some cupcakes, using the recipe you remembered from your mother.

The batch you made was huge, and there was no way you would be able to eat all of it by yourself. So, you decided to pay Harry a visit. He was already annoyed by you even when you did nothing. So, why not give him something to be grumpy about?

You arrived at his shop about an hour later, carrying a pretty pink box. "I brought you some cupcakes, roomie!" you chirped, setting the box down in front of him. "Vanilla with chocolate frosting, your favorite!"

Harry eyed the confections warily. "I didn't ask for those," he mumbled, even as his mouth watered at the delicious aroma.

"Well, I just thought you could use something sweet after a long day," you replied with a kind smile, completely unfazed by his standoffishness.

Curiosity eventually got the better of him, and Harry tried one of the cupcakes, his eyes fluttering closed at the sweet goodness. "S'not bad," he said, reluctantly.

You giggled at his grumpy antics. "You're very welcome, grumpy mechanic."

As the weeks went on, these little acts of kindness from you became more frequent. You'd leave him encouraging notes on the bathroom mirror, make sure his favorite beer was always stocked in the fridge, and even attempted to liven up his all-black wardrobe by slipping a bright yellow shirt into his laundry ("For a pop of sunshine!" you'd insisted).

Niall would tease him about it. He knew Harry hated happiness and smiles, and he was now living with one.

“So, how are you doing? We never talk anymore”

He nudged, already biting back a smile.

“Eh, it’s alright. You know, Y/n brought flowers for the vases in my house yesterday–”

“Your and her house” he corrected, but Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. Whatever. So, she brought flowers for the vases yesterday. And when I told her they were meant to be empty, she said, They look better with life in them. " Unlike you””

Niall threw his head back, laughing, while Harry tightened the big screw with a wrench.

“You know, I only put up with her because she cooks for me”

This time, Niall rolled his eyes.

“No, you don’t. You like her, that’s why you keep her around. I could cook too, but you wouldn’t have me as your roommate, would you?”

“A-Um, that–that’s not true”

“Sure, big guy.”

Harry would roll his eyes and grumble about you being too chipper for your own good. But in truth, he was starting to enjoy having someone to come home to, even if you did insist on filling their flat with obscene amounts of throw pillows and scented candles and flowers.

It was...oddly endearing, Harry had to admit. And it definitely didn't hurt that you were absolutely gorgeous, all bright eyes and cute cheeks and curves in all the right places. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud, of course.

Harry felt like a satellite. He was being pulled into your orbit, and he could do nothing about it.

As the weeks turned into months of living together, Harry began to crave coming home to your comforting presence at the end of each day. Sure, you drove him a bit mad with your perky energy and insistence on doing thoughtful little things for him. Like showing up at the garage on your day off with a bagged lunch for him and the guys. Or texting him obnoxiously and making him bring you all the snacks he hated.

Niall and his other coworkers loved to give him endless shite about how "whipped" he was, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to care. He loved the way you took care of him, even if he pretended to be grumpy about it. In truth, no one had ever bothered to do those types of things for him before. And from you, it didn't feel like nagging or an insult to his independence. It just felt...nice. To have someone who seemed to inherently understand what he needed, even before he knew it himself.

So maybe he was a little "whipped," letting the girl work her way under his prickly exterior and into his heavily guarded heart. But as Harry watched you laugh as you talked to someone on the phone, with a smile that could light up the whole sky, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

You were going on a date.

It was with a guy named Matt. He was a barista, or so he had told you over text. Niall never asked you out for a third date, and he seemed to be acting differently around you ever since you moved in with Harry. Maybe he met someone when he was back home, and didn’t like you now. Or he wasn’t completely alright with you living with Harry and dating him.

This was a conversation to be had soon.

You had called Matt to your place, after which you would go to a place of your choosing. He seemed okay with that, and you had texted him your address earlier that day.

But Harry didn’t like it.

You stood in front of the mirror, smoothening down your skirt and rubbing your lips together. Harry was standing leaning on the doorway all along, annoyed and angry at you at the same time.

"Are you serious?" he exclaimed after a while, his voice laced with annoyance. "You're bringing a date here? In our place?"

You bristled at his accusatory tone, feeling the need to defend your actions. "Why not?It's my home too, Harry. I have every right to have a date here if I want to."

Harry's jaw clenched, his frustration evident as he struggled to contain his temper. "But you know how I feel about this," he argued, his voice rising with each word. "I don't want strangers coming in here, especially not when I'm around."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to put my life on hold just because you're uncomfortable," you shot back, your own anger rising to match his. "I have every right to live my life the way I want to, Harry, whether you like it or not."

As the tension from the argument with Harry still lingered in the air, Matt arrived. His arrival broke the tension in the room, and you greeted him with a forced smile, hoping to mask the unease that was just in here moments ago.

However, as Matt stepped into the apartment, Harry's suspicion grew even more. He eyed him suspiciously, his jaw clenching and you could sense that Matt was getting uncomfortable.

“Harry-” you said, an octave too loud. He looked at you, his gaze shifting from him to you.

“What?”

“Leave” you said firmly, and he still didn’t move an inch.

"Y/N, You look amazing," he complimented you warmly, holding out a bouquet of flowers.

"Aw, thank you! You shouldn't have," you replied, hoping the flush in your cheeks wasn't too obvious as you accepted the bouquet. It had been a while since someone gave you a bouquet.

"Matt, this is my roommate, Harry. Harry, this is Matt."

The two men eyed each other warily, the air practically crackling with hostility. Matt offered a friendly smile and an outstretched hand.

"Nice to meet you, mate."

Harry simply glowered at him, making no move to reciprocate the handshake. You shot him a pointed look, but he remained stonily unmoving.

"Uh, should we get going then?" Matt asked after an awkward beat, clearly picking up on Harry's cold demeanor.

"You know, we could just hang out here for a bit if you'd like?" you suggested in a desperate attempt to smooth things over.

You immediately regretted the words as Harry's glare intensified. Matt shook his head quickly.

"No, no, that's alright. The dinner reservation is probably best," he said, shooting Harry a wary look.

"Sounds good," you replied in a strained voice, grabbing your purse. You paused in front of Harry once more. "Try to be civil, okay?"

He said nothing, his jaw clenched stubbornly as he stared at you down. With a huff of frustration, you turned and followed Matt out of the apartment, leaving your roommate's sour mood behind.

But even after you'd gone, Harry couldn't seem to shake his foul temper. He stalked back over to the couch, throwing himself down as a wave of sadness rolled through him/.

He should've been happy for you, shouldn't he? Going on a normal date like anyone else your age? So why did he feel so irrationally angry and resentful about the whole situation?

Harry scrubbed his hands down his face roughly, wishing he could simply be supportive and let you enjoy yourself for once. But the twist of jealousy and protectiveness in his gut was making that impossible.

All he knew was that the thought of you out with another bloke tonight left an incredibly bitter taste in his mouth - and there was nothing he could do to get rid of it.

Harry clenched his jaw tightly as you left the apartment with your date Matt, the door clicking shut behind you. He stalked over to the window, peering through the curtains to watch as you entered Matt's car and drove off.

A simmering feeling of unease settled in the pit of Harry's stomach. There was something vaguely familiar about Matt that he couldn't quite put his finger on. The way he carried himself with that cocky swagger, the artfully mussed hair, the smarmy grin...

Harry's eyes widened slightly as the realization hit him like a truck. He knew exactly where he recognized him from–Matt was someone from his past.

They used to work together, and Harry after a while, had had enough of it. It was illegal, and thrilling at first. But later he felt like he was ruining his life and family.

He wanted to pull himself out, but he had a lot of history with them, and letting him go would have been a potential threat. Luckily, he had gotten away, and by some cruel twist of fate, all that he had left behind, trying to pull himself out of, was catching up on him.

A wave of red-hot anger surged through Harry at the thought of this smarmy creep going after his sweet, naive roommate. Over his dead body would he allow that disgusting man to be anywhere near you.

Snatching his phone off the counter, Harry quickly pulled up your contact and hit the dial. He had to warn you about who Matt truly was before it was too late.

The phone rang once, twice, then went to voicemail - you must have already silenced it for your date. Cursing, Harry tried you again with the same result.

This wasn't going to work. If he wanted to stop this disastrous evening from happening, Harry realized grimly that he was going to have to take more drastic actions.

Grabbing his jacket and keys, he hurried out of the apartment and hopped into his car. Harry's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, peeling out onto the street in the direction of the restaurant where you and Matt were headed. He only hoped he wouldn't be too late.

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thefreakandthehair · 5 months

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@steddiemas day 1: deck the halls | wc: 1.2k | rated: m

Robin Buckley loves Christmas.

Like, really loves Christmas. If she could convince Steve to put the tree up in their little shitbox apartment the day after Halloween, she would. In fact, she'd tried last year but Steve reminded her that a live tree would be a needleless fire hazard by Christmas Day and she refuses to entertain the idea of a fake tree.

Absolutely not. Live tree or bust.

And this is how Steve ends up at the Christmas Tree Farm the day after Thanksgiving, dragged around with a fond if not tired smile as she checks tree after tree, pulling their branches, checking their strength and health.

"It has to be a Blue Spruce to hold those heavy ornaments from my parents, and none of these are Blue Spruces!" She bemoans, whipping her head around to glare at Steve. "Are you even helping?"

He rolls his eyes and sips the hot chocolate that warms him from the inside. "I'm here as moral support and to cut the thing down when you find it." Steve wiggles the little saw he'd been handed and nods her on.

Robin scoffs and marches back towards him. "I think there are some Blue Spruces in the lot towards the back."

Without a question, he turns on his heel and follows her. This isn't their first Christmas Tree Hunt so he knows the drill. No matter how much he actually hates Blue Spruces because the needles are sharp and stick him when they hang the lights, he'll never say a word. Not when it makes his best friend this happy.

Eventually, they make the trek through muddy grass and Robin does, in fact, find a Blue Spruce that makes her eyes light up in the hidden away lot.

"This is it," she beams. "This is the one."

"Perfect, here, hold this--" Steve hands her his mug and starts to lean down, only for the tree to start shaking.

A man in ripped jeans and Reeboks lies beneath the tree, his own saw just beginning to make its mark in the stump of the spiky, healthy Spruce.

"Hey! Hey, what are you doing? This is our tree." Robin says, reaching through branches to hold it steady. "We were just about to cut it down, back off."

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's not that he won't defend Robin's honor and get into a fight in a Christmas Tree Farm for her, he'd just really rather not.

The mystery man pokes his head out from under the tree with furrowed brows and two needles sticking out from the top of his head, dirt on his denim jacket that protects what looks like a red and black flannel. Steve's definitely been watching way too many Hallmark movies with Robin lately because holy shit, he's cute.

"Listen, my best friend wants this tree, and I don't even wanna be under here but if she doesn't get this Blue Whatever-The-Fuck, someone's halls are getting decked and it'll probably be mine. So, sorry." He shrugs and returns to his place under the tree.

Robin looks at Steve, bewildered and frazzled simultaneously. Do something, she mouths.

Like what? He mouths back, scrunching his face and contorting his mouth.

She widens her eyes and jerks her head to the side, desperate.

He should’ve known Robin would be responsible for his demise.

“C’mon, man, we’ve been here for two hours looking for a tree.” Steve gets no response, just a few grunts that shouldn’t go straight to his crotch but what can he say? It’s been awhile.

He steps forward and lies down beneath the tree with the Tree Thief. “Is she here with you? Your best friend who seems as fucking rabid as mine is here about these trees?”

Steve watches as the man focuses on the tree stump, rhythmic back and forth motions of the saw moving his torso along the ground with his tongue poking out between his lips. “Maybe I can talk to her? Or send Robin? She’s… convincing?”

“Chrissy wants this one, dude. Hate to break it to you.”

“Ah, okay. Robin and Chrissy. Well, I’m Steve, and you’re…?”

The sawing stops as he catches his breath. “Eddie. I’m Eddie. And unless you’re gonna help under here, you might wanna move. I don’t wanna drop this on you.”

Steve pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and takes a chance. Reaching out, he places one hand on top of Eddie’s. “Can I make you a deal?”

Eddie startles, eyes flickering back and forth from the space where their hands touch on the rough bark of the tree up to Steve’s gaze.

“Depends on the deal, I suppose.” Maybe Steve imagines the flush to his cheeks and the playful grin that blossoms across his lips. All he knows about Eddie is that his best friend’s name is Chrissy and that he has the most beautiful brown eyes Steve’s maybe ever seen.

Not maybe. Definitely.

“Uh,” he shakes his head, trying to pull himself out of whatever Christmas romcom he thinks he’s living in. “What if we help you and Chrissy find another tree and I help you cut it down? I’ll even carry it to the car for you.”

“What are you, some sort of lumberjack?”

“Nope,” he lowers his voice conspiratorially, joking as he leans closer, like an idiot. “Just desperate not to get my halls decked.” It earns him a genuine smile and surprised laugh punched from Eddie’s lungs.

“Alright,” he taps the saw on the trunk and smirks over at Steve, mere inches apart beneath a Christmas tree. Close enough for the faint scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and Old Spice cologne to permeate the strength of the resinous spruce. “You help us find another tree, lug it to the car, and then meet me for coffee after? Seems like the least you can do, all things considered.”

Trading numbers with the guy he met while bargaining for Robin’s dream Christmas tree isn’t the weirdest moment of his life, but it’s certainly on the shortlist. As is plucking rogue needles out of his hair when they come up from beneath the tree.

He ends up lugging two Blue Spruces to the parking lot an hour later in two trips— Robin chatting with Chrissy in front of them and Eddie at his side, gravitating closer and closer until their arms nearly touch.

“You know, you didn’t actually have to do this,” Eddie says, moving away from Steve and to the other side of Chrissy's sedan to help tie the tree to the roof. “You’re not like, actually obligated or whatever.”

Steve finishes tying his end of the knot and looks across at Eddie, finding him standing with hopeful eyes and a piece of hair drawn in front of his face.

“Oh, I know.” He smiles and shrugs. “But I want to. Especially the coffee-with-you-after part.”

“Not until we get this thing up and decked, Munson!” Chrissy pops up next to Eddie at the same time Robin appears next to Steve, both of them practically bouncing on their heels and grinning ear to ear.

Robin nudges Steve in the side and he looks down to see her phone held out, Chrissy’s number typed into her contacts with a tiny pink heart to it. He gives her a subtle, excited thumbs up from below Eddie and Chrissy’s view beneath the car.

Eddie slings an arm across Chrissy’s shoulders and ruffles her hair before she fixes her ponytail, indignant.

“Alright, alright,” Steve laughs. “I’ll uh, I’ll text you?”

Eddie nods and turns himself and Chrissy towards the front of the car. As he gets in the passenger seat, he looks back at Steve with a mischievous wink most likely emboldened by Steve’s brash flirtation.

“The sooner, the better.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st fic #myblurbs #stobin #buckingham #steddiemas #does this become a steddiemas series? who knows! i'm unhinged and know no bounds!

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lovelettersfromluna · 11 months

Text

You mystify me {Ellie Williams X Reader}

Summary: A new family moves in down the street from Joel, and Ellie just so happens to be home for the holidays. What better way to welcome the newbies than to drag his daughter to their house with a half burnt pie?

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, drug use (marijuana), afab reader, Ellie is horrible with feelings, slight angst if you squint?, Ellie is in college, fingering (r! receiving), scissoring, let me know if I missed anything pleaseee.

an: Hello angels! Welcome to my very first post, it's so nice to have you here. I will admit, I've been going back and forth with my first fic for quite a while now, but I think this may be the one. I don't mention any specific body types/skin tones/eye colors/hair colors/hair types, just to ensure that its inclusive for everyone to insert themselves into. I truly hope you all enjoy, and please feel free to give any tips or pointers for things you'd like to see change for the future. Love, Luna. p.s Happy Pride Month!!!

Word count: 6.7 k

Ellie hated the holidays.

She didn't want to sound miserable, or ungrateful, but she hated everything that came with it. She preferred times like summer or spring, where she could just go home for the break without having anything she needed to be there for. Those times meant she could just lounge around in her childhood home until her dad got home, and they could watch football and drink beers until they both passed out on the couch. No stupid holiday events to attend, no painstakingly long dinners to go to, it could just be them, with no distractions.

But no, the holidays made it painfully aware that those dreams were but a far off memory that she couldn't have for the next five months.

She was home for Thanksgiving break, back pressed up against the soft sheets of her childhood bed as she faced the ceiling, her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply. If she wasn't so miserable over the fact that she was in fact home for the holidays, the scent of warm apples and cinnamon would have caught her attention.

Wait...apples? Cinnamon?

She frowned as she sat up, her soft brown locks brushing against her forehead and cheek bones as she shifted a bit. The kitchen at her dads place went pretty much untouched, seeing that neither of them were great in the kitchen at all. Ellie was raised off of cheap takeout and boxed Mac and cheese, and truthfully she wouldn't have it any other way.

Ellie got up with a low sigh, adjusting the grey hoodie that hung on her skinny frame before she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. The old floorboards creaked underneath her sock clad feet, reminding her of all the times she'd slipped and fallen on the godforsaken floor before.

When she got downstairs, the image of Joel in an apron made her furrow her eyebrows in confusion. He was mixing something in a bowl, his narrowed eyes darting back and forth between the oven and a small timer he had placed next to him on the counter. The sound of the floor creaking caught his attention, and his head shot over towards the direction of his daughter.

"Was just about t'call you down here...need your help with this..uh..." He groaned softly as he motioned towards the cook book he had propped up against another spare bowl he had.

Ellie snorted softly as she pushed herself off of the wall she was leaned up against, watching her father struggle in amusement before she hummed, bringing her attention to the cook book. She squinted a bit as she leaned in, eyebrows furrowing, looking far too similar to her farther before she nodded.

"Apple pie?....Since when do you bake old man?" She teased gently, looking down into the bowl he was mixing. She had to admit, whatever he was working on didn't look half bad. She wasn't exactly an expert, but she had gotten stuck on the cooking channel far too many times when she was too high out of her mind to switch it to something else, and whatever her dad was working on looked....like he was doing something right.

"I don't....not usually at least..." He grumbled out softly, giving the contents in the bowl one last good mix before he squinted at the cook book once again, sighing before he placed the bowl down. He gave the timer one last look before he walked over to the oven, opening it and pulling out the golden pie crust.

"Need you to go and get dressed, you and I are going out" His eyes are focused on pouring the contents into the pie crust, which Ellie had figured out was in deed the pie filling. Ellie frowned as she watched her father work on the pastry, her arms crossed over her chest as her eyes darted up to look at him.

"What? I thought...I thought we didn't have anything to do this week. We were supposed to watch the game tonight, remember?" She practically whined out, sounding far too much like a small child who was not getting their way. This made Joel chuckle softly, because for a moment it reminded him of Ellie when she was much younger, his little soldier.

"Didn't say we weren't watchin' the game kid...just not watchin' it here" He hummed out before he finished filling the pie, and pushed it back into the oven. He took his apron off, hanging it on the handle of the pantry door as he began cleaning up the monstrosity in the kitchen that had came about through his adventures with baking.

Ellie on the other hand, was fuming.

She had a strict 24 hour warning policy before she had to go anywhere, and it was especially important for this policy to be withheld during the holidays. She needed time to prepare, to put herself in the headspace of socializing for the night before actually doing so. It was like she had to charge up her social battery longer than usual for things like this, and it sort of hurt her feelings to think that her dad would disregard that.

Especially when she was under the impression that he felt the exact same way that she did in instances like this.

But instead, he was happily baking a pie for god knows what, with his silly little apron as if he were Martha Stewart herself, and to be quite honest, Ellie was a little pissed off.

She let out an annoyed huff as she circled around Joel, who was leaned up against the sink washing the last set of mixing bowls and measuring cups. She stared at him with pleading eyes, as if begging him to cancel on the ominous force that was pushing them out of their home for the night.

"But you never even said anything about leaving tonight...I...Im not going to Shirley's house again. Her kids look like they fucking bite and her food sucks" She breathed out, causing Joel to laugh softly.

'No. no...I know you're not too fond of her El...." He hummed softly as he turned off the sink, grabbing a nearby towel and drying his hands. He began walking off to his bedroom, to which Ellie promptly followed behind, clearly not done with her whining.

"Then where are we going?" Ellie asked once again, the tall girl leaned up against the entrance door to her fathers bedroom as he disappeared in his closet, most likely changing into a suitable flannel shirt for whoever it was that they so desperately needed to visit for the night. "We've got new neighbors down the street...caught em' movin in when I was comin' home from work last week"

Joel's words made Ellie frown even further, and her eyes trained on him as he moved around the room, grabbing different things from his dresser before moving to the bathroom to continue getting ready. "And? What does that have to do with us"

A low sigh could be heard from the bathroom, the tone in Ellie's voice already letting Joel know that she would not be letting this go without a fight. "It's nice to be neighborly, kid. Plus, it's the holidays....least we can do is bring them somethin' nice". His words were a bit muffled by the towel he pushed up against his face, most likely freshening up a bit. Ellie rolled her eyes, pushing herself off of his door. She was annoyed, she wanted to spend time with her dad, and not some strangers. She knew that moments with him during the fall and winter months were sparse, so she looked forward to them more than she did usually.

She knew there was nothing she could do to convince him to cancel, or to even avoid all of the formalities and let her deliver the pie. And by deliver, she would most definitely drop it at their door step with a sticky note that read "From Joel and Ellie down the street", a sorry excuse of a welcome, but enough so to get the message through to them.

So, she simply turned around and shrugged her hoodie off, stomping her feet against the wooden stairs a bit too loud for comfort to change into something a bit more sensible.

"Your pie is burning by the way" She called out before she slammed her door and promptly began rummaging through her messy closet for clothes.

And thats how they ended up here, at your doorstep with a half burnt pie held between Joel's old, scarred hands. They didn't leave without a small argument, Joel scolding Ellie for giving him a hard time, complaining that she was the one that made him screw up his timer. Ellie would never admit it, but she secretly hoped it would push her dad to cancel last minute.

But it didn't, and she was standing next to him with her fists shoved in her pockets. The fall air had been growing colder and colder with each passing day, and her mouth was already opening to let out another string of complaints to her father about how "fucking cold" it was and that this was "really stupid".

But before she could, you were opening the door. A bright smile splayed across your plush lips that were painted the prettiest deep berry shade. You're shirt was the exact same color, a corset style top that hugged your mid section perfectly, black lace peaking out at the edge of it near your hips and at the top of your cleavage, a simple pair of blue jeans that hugged your hips and ass deliciously, and a tiny blood red heart hung on a thin chain that was around your neck, falling right between your soft tits.

Ellie blinked a few times as she stared down at you, her throat practically closing up, any slick complaints she had ready to fire at her father had died down the second she laid eyes on you. She couldn't stop her eyes from shamelessly traveling down your body, taking in every aspect of your outfit, which caused her cheeks to burn red.

A soft gasp from your lips cut right through her racing thoughts, and you were looking down at the pie that Joel held. "Mr. Miller, I didn't know you baked. This looks amazing!". Despite the state of the pie, you words were genuine, quickly taking the pie from the man and stepping aside so the both of them could step in.

"Your dad mentioned you liked apples...had a few I needed to get rid of....where is he by the way?" Joel mentioned casually, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he thought about the fact that he did in fact make a specific grocery trip just for all of the ingredients for the pie in the first place. He shrugged his coat off, to which you quickly put the pie down in the kitchen before rushing back to the both of them.

You took Joel's coat from him before having it up on the rack. "He's trying to fix a light in the living room, he might actually need your help" You sighed out, watching as Joel nodded before giving Ellie a look, silently urging the girl to introduce herself before he set off to find your father.

You gave her a sweet smile, extending your hand for hers as you gave her your name. "You must be Ellie, my dad said Joel mentioned you when they met the other day. Im really glad you came"

Ellie froze as she looked down at your manicured hand. Your nails were black, and short, painted almost perfectly, a few rings perched on some of your fingers. She swallowed nervously, nodding slowly before she brought a cold hand up to shake yours. "Yeah...yeah im Ellie..." She mumbled out, hating how fucking good your warm hand felt wrapped around your smaller one.

You furrowed your eyebrows a bit at her strange behavior before you nodded slowly, letting go of your hand as she began shrugging off her brown leather jacket. You smiled sweetly, stepping closer to her as you held your hands out for it "Here, I can take that".

Ellie looked down at your hands before looking back into your eyes, her breath hitching in her throat before she nodded slowly, shrugging off her jacket and handing it to you. You gave her a reassuring smile as you hung it up, her eyes following you the entire time shamelessly.

"I don't know about yours, but my dad hasn't stopped talking about you guys coming over all week. I was really happy when he told me Mr. Miller had a daughter, I'd be miserable if I had to listen to them talk about building a deck or mowing the lawn" You huffed out, smoothing down the leather of Ellie's jacket as you hung it up. You turned around, giving her a smile before you nodded your head towards the kitchen, "Well, we might as well head in there, not that they notice us being gone, they were outside for almost an hour when we were moving in" You giggled softly at the memory, trying to ease some of the tension in the air.

Ellie on the other hand, didn't want you to stop talking. The sweet melody of your voice was making her forget all about the irritating rage that was screaming for attention in the back of her head, counting down the minutes until she could leave your house. Now, it was like she couldn't get enough of being in your warm home.

"Tell me about it, he spent the entire afternoon on that damn pie" She sighed out, her hands taking their usual spot in her pockets. You giggled softly, making Ellie's chest burn with pride.

"Is it just you and your dad by the way?" Ellie asked softly as she looked around in your home, looking for any trace of information that revealed any other family members that you may have. You nodded your head as you began walking to the kitchen slowly, leading her behind you.

"Yep. My mom left when I was a baby, so it's been him and I for as long as I can remember" You nodded to yourself, thinking back to your childhood growing up with a single dad. Ellie couldn't ignore the wave of panic wash over her when it began settling in. You were living there now, right down the street from her. You weren't just a hot girl that she could embarrass herself in front of one time and then never have to see again, you were permanent.

Your conversation was cut short once both Joel and your dad caught sight of the both of you walking into the dim kitchen. "There you are, thought you two got lost", your fathers words made you giggle, and you shook your head as you made your way into the kitchen. "Just getting to know Ellie, dad. You had your turn getting to know Mr. Miller, remember?" You teased playfully as you pulled out various dishes from the oven that you had been keeping warm.

Ellie watched as you moved everything to the table, her eyes going wide at just how much you were putting out for them. "Did you make all of this?" She asked quietly in disbelief, to which you nodded with a shy smile on your lips.

Your dad and Joel moved to stand in the kitchen near Ellie, "She takes care of all the cooking, no matter how much I try and help" Your dad chuckled softly, causing you to roll your eyes a bit. "You're just no good at it dad...plus, I don't mind it" You hummed softly as you set the table, stepping back and making sure the placements were enough before you nodded to yourself. "if you two are done talking light bulbs, we can eat".

Ellie couldn't believe she was admitting it, but dinner went well.

She spent the entire night quietly munching on your delicious food, and watching you. Her heart would beat a little bit faster every time you noticed, and gave her a sweet smile, which made her brain short circuit for a few minutes before she smiled back. Both her dad and your dad went back and forth all night about work, their latest projects, and bragging about the both of you.

"Ellie does great in school, she's just started her second year over at UEC" Joel casually bragged, causing Ellie to groan softly. She hated when he did it, regardless of the fact that she knew it came from a place of love. He was always eager to gloat about how smart his daughter is, how much she had achieved and how proud of her he was for it.

Your father raised his eyebrows at Joel's words, the excited expression written all over your pretty face too clear to go unnoticed. "No way, I start my first year in the spring" You smiled excitedly, to which Joel gave Ellie a gentle nudge.

"Would'a look at that, you'll have to show her around, won't you Ellie?". Ellie licked her lips, cracking a half smile as she gave a slight nod, allowing the rest of you to fall into friendly conversation. The familiar sense of panic settling in on her again. Not only would she have to see you every time she was at her dads house, but you would also be fluttering your way around campus. She could only hope she would be able to fly under your radar at least a little bit.

Once you were all finished with dinner, both your dad and Joel had made their way onto the back porch after you had shooed them out of the kitchen, insisting that you and Ellie had everything handled. That's how you found yourself in your current situation, which was Ellie drying the washed dishes, and handing them to you so you could put them away to their correct spots.

"So, how do you like UEC?" You hummed softly as you pushed the last plate into the cupboard. Ellie raised her eyebrows at your question, drying her hands with the towel she had before she hung it on a nearby rack. "UEC is good....pretty chill if you ask me....although im not the greatest person to ask. I only really go to and from class before going back to my apartment and crashing" She mumbled out all too truthfully, which caused you to giggle. "I feel you...im honestly not looking forward to picking up after the break and moving into my apartment."

Your words set off a lightbulb in Ellies head, and before she could even stop herself, she was speaking again. "I could help you move in if you want...Im pretty good with...boxes" She mentally kicked herself for how fucking awkward she sounded, but the excited twinkle in your eye made up for it.

"Really? I mean...you seriously don't have to but...it would mean the world if you did". The soft tone of your voice had her practically swooning, her tongue darting out to lick her lips before she gave you a firm nod. "Yeah, yeah...it's no problem at all. It'll problem even get me out of holiday stuff anyways so...more than happy to" She breathed out.

You smiled excitedly, nodding quickly before you were pulling your phone out of your back pocket, and pushing it towards her. "Here, put your number in. We could hang out or something before break is over". You gave her a reassuring nod before gently pushing your phone towards her once more. Ellie didn't hesitate to type her number in and save it for you.

And no more than a week later, you two were texting every day. Ellie truly could not remember the last time she had been so obsessive with texting someone, the girl always leaving her phone on her bed for hours and ignoring almost every notification that came through to it, either too lazy or too tired to give it any attention.

But now, now she couldn't go ten minutes without rushing to her phone to see if you were messaging her back. Either replying to the stupid TikTok you sent her, or asking her opinion on what outfit you were wearing that day, her phone was glued to her hand. Joel picked up on it rather quickly, the usual whining and huffing that emitted from his daughter every time they had to go somewhere had come to an end, her phone pacifying her completely. He had asked about it one day, curious as to what it was exactly that had her so enamored practically overnight. He received a small mumble of your name, to which her simply smirked and never asked again.

It was another boring Tuesday morning at home, Ellie lounging around her house while her dad was at work, texting you of course. She whistled to herself as she finished making her coffee, until the familiar ding of her phone caught her attention.

ellieeeeee

hm?

whatcha doin today loser

She caught herself smiling softly at your messages far too often

nothin, dad's at work. wbu?

hmmm mine too

wanna come over nd smoke?

Ellie felt herself freeze once she read over your message. In fact, she found herself reading it once, twice, three times, just to make sure she was reading it correctly. It had already been a week since she had been at your house for dinner, and not a day had gone by where she didn't think about you, but she was ashamed to admit that she had been avoiding seeing you in person. She had done a great job so far, finding easy ways to circle around your attempts at bringing it up, but this had been the first time that you outright asked, and she was freaking the fuck out.

And fuck, it wasn't even because she didn't want to, of course she wanted you. She had bee texting you every day since she met you, it was just that...Ellie became so fucking stupid around pretty girls, she always did. She preferred to avoid it if it wasn't in a party setting where it was easy to pretend she was someone she wasn't. But she would be with you, in your home, in your room, and it was pretty damn hard to pretend when it was that....close.

um or not

if ur busy its okay dont worry :P

The next string of messages that came from your end had her panicking, and she knew if she was going to make a decision, she had to make it quick. She inhaled deeply, her thumbs still hovering over the screen of her phone, before she began typing.

nah sorry

not busy today

I can come over now?

plsssss

come come

Ellie let out the breath she had been holding, the air coming out as a loud exhale once she read your responses. She sighed, looking at the time on her phone before she groaned, peeling her body off of the counter and making her way upstairs to get dressed.

Before she knew it, Ellie was at your door.

Her tattooed hand rapped at your door, inhaling the cold air deeply as she promptly brought her hand back to the warm pocket of her jacket. She sighed out, looking down at the little 'welcome' mat that she stood on. She was positive any homey touches were of your doing, and something about that made the corner of her lips tug into a small smile.

When you opened the door, the warmth of your home was wafting onto her freckled face, causing her to audibly sigh in relief. You smiled excitedly up at her, face far too happy and fresh to belong to someone who had been texting Ellie up into the wee hours of the night prior. You quickly grabbed her arm, tugging her inside and out of the cold before you closed the door behind her.

You exchanged little words, eagerly pulling her jacket off and putting it on the same rack that you had the last time she was there. She chuckled softly, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. "Woah, slow down...your practically bouncing off the walls" She chuckled out, which prompted you to huff softly.

"Are you kidding me? You're the first person im hanging out with that isn't my father, you're lucky im not jumping your bones right now" You giggled softly.

Ellie was secretly hoping that you would.

You gave her a moment to gather herself before your hand was wrapping around her wrist and dragging her up to your bedroom, your lips going a mile a minute about all the things you wanted to do with the day that you would be spending with her.

Your room looks exactly like Ellie imagined it would.

She figures that deep, maroon, berry shade might be your favorite, because it's everywhere. It's the color of your sheets, and your curtains, and you managed to only choose band posters that matched with that dark aesthetic as well. Your room smells like you, like vanilla and violets, mixed with the strawberry candle that you had burning. Its warm, and inviting, and it feels like you.

Ellie finds that it's her new favorite scent.

You hummed softly as you crawled onto your bed, turning around so you were laying with your back against your pretty pillows. Ellie thinks she's died and gone to heaven at that point, because your hair looks so pretty splayed underneath you, and your eyes look so dreamy looking up at her, and your cotton shorts are hugging your thighs so well, and-

She realizes you're talking to her, and she hasn't heard a word you've said, because she is gawking at you.

"Huh?"

You giggled softly as you sat up, crawling over to the edge of your bed and grabbing a black box with dark red roses and tiny stars painted all over it. You pull out a neatly rolled blunt, which is of course rolled with none other than rose petals. She laughs, watching in awe as you bring it to your lips, perching it between them before cupping your hand around it, and lighting the end.

Ellie doesn't think she's ever been more jealous of a fucking blunt before.

You sighed softly, crawling over to your window and opening it up before you blew the smoke out, passing the blunt to her before you moved back to your spot on the bed.

"I said, come sit with me. You look like you're gonna cry" You giggled softly, smiling once she took the blunt from your fingers.

She stared down at the girly looking joint, sighing as she shook her head.

She brought it to her lips, taking a deep inhale before she moved to lay next to you on the bed. The heat filling her lungs cleared her head, and in an instant she was already feeling more comfortable around you, less scared of the fact that you'd think she was a fucking pervert or something.

"Girliest fucking blunt I've ever seen man..." She breathe out, smoke clouding her features as she blew out. You scrunched her nose at her words, taking it back and bringing it to your lips. "S'not girly...just..tastes better than regular papers...plus, its way better for you" You nodded to yourself, moving up the pillow and getting in a comfortable spot next to Ellie.

Ellie rolled her eyes, taking it back from you as you both feel into a comfortable conversation.

Ellie isn't totally sure when it happens, but within an hour, you're both high out of your minds.

You were a giggling mess, finding anything that left Ellies lips to be comedic gold. Your legs were splayed over hers, and she had her hand on your thigh, massaging and squeezing the skin ever so often. You'd be lying if you said it didn't feel good, her hands were so warm, and so big, you wanted them all over you.

Once your laughter died down, you hummed softly. Your hazy eyes traced her features, heart fluttering at how fucking pretty Ellie was. It was clear to you that she was pretty when you first saw her, but her hands on your thighs, and the fact that she was sitting on your bed, looking good enough to fucking eat, it was smacking you right in the face.

Your hands traced her tattoo gently, fingertips leaving feathery touches on her skin. “This is pretty…when d’you get it done?” You hummed out, scooting a bit closer to her.

Ellie hummed softly, welcoming your new position closer to her as she let you position your legs closer on her own. “My ex did it for me like a year or two ago..”. The squeeze on your thigh had your heart fluttering, a soft hum leaving your lips as you continued tracing along the intricate patterns of her tattoo.

"You still talk to them?" Your words were breathy, sounding desperate and needy in your head. To Ellie, you sounded dreamy. Your words were light an airy, and she found herself counting down the seconds until you'd speak again, wanting so badly to hear those pretty words fall from your pretty lips.

She shook her head, her eyes focused on the way your lips were swelling up from how often you bit them. "Not anymore...not talking to anyone right now.." she hummed out, giving your thigh another squeeze.

She felt like she had to let you know that there was no one on her mind right now, not when she was in your room, with your legs splayed over hers, squeezing your thighs with every word that she spoke.

Your eyes twinkled a bit as you stared up a her, swallowing down the whine that was stuck in your throat. Your thighs were on fire underneath her long fingers, your mind clouded with a thick fog that made it hard to see past any better judgment. Ellie was in your bed, touching you and making you feel so nice, and she was telling you that she wasn't talking to anyone.

The cloud fogging your brain wasn't thick enough to distract you from how badly you wanted Ellie, your teeth nearly broke the skin of your lips with how much you were biting down into them, the overwhelming need for the girl nagging at your brain with every passing second.

You decided you didn't want to ignore it anymore.

Without another thought, you were crawling onto Ellies lap, your thighs straddling her waist as you pressed your chest against hers. Ellie let out a shaky breath once she noticed that you were moving, fully expecting you to get up and go to the bathroom or something, and not at all to settle your ass against her lap. Despite her surprise, her hands immediately went to rest on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze as she stared into your eyes.

"Fuck..." She breathed out your name, her words coming out mumbled as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. You let out a soft sigh, your fingers going to her neck to toy with the soft ends of her hair as you stared at her lips.

"Is this...okay?" Your words were so soft, barely above a whisper. Ellie felt her core throb at your tone, wanting nothing more than to wreck you completely, turning you into a babbling mess underneath her. Her nod was eager, probably too eager but she didn't have enough in her to even care at that point. Her hands were pulling you closer to her body, desperate to feel more of you. "Fuck...yeah...yeah this is more than okay...Jesus..." She mumbled out quietly, causing you to giggle.

You nodded, humming softly as you studied her face. It was nice to see her this close, taking in all of her little freckles, the little wrinkle in her forehead, you were close enough to even hear the way her breath quickened with you perched on her lap. "Can I kiss you Ellie?..." Once again, your words were soft, and gentle.

Ellie felt like she was going to lose her fucking mind.

She let out a low groan before her lips were pressing against yours, a soft moan leaving your mouth once you finally felt her against you. The kiss was needy, and heavy, and messy and breathy, and it was everything Ellie wanted from you. You simply let her in, letting her kiss you however she wanted, touch you however she wanted, and that stirred something deep inside of Ellie.

Your little whines and whimpers egged her on to do more, touch you more, feel you more. Her long fingers were slipping underneath your t shirt, massaging the skin of your hips as she pulled you in closer. The sounds that bounced off the walls of your bedroom were filthy, low groans and moans and Ellie, breathy little whines from you, and the wet sound of you tongues rubbing together all came together to make the sweetest symphony that was strictly for the two of you.

Your thin shirt did a terrible job at keep your hard nipples discreet. Ellie moaned at the way your tits felt pressed up against hers, and it made her want more.

She broke the kiss, her breath heavy as she pulled your t shirt over your head, and tossed it somewhere else within your room. She sucked in a harsh breath once she caught sight of your pebbled nipples. She immediately pushed you back to lay down, slotting herself between your legs before her wet mouth was wrapped around one of your nipples, and her other hand was rolling the other between her fingers.

Your mind was fuzzy, and she was making you feel so fucking warm. The feeling of her skilled mouth flicking your nipple back and forth with her tongue made all of the blood in your body rush to your core, your pussy throbbing underneath the constraints of your shorts. You whined, your hips moving against her body, desperately searching for some form of friction as your hands came up to thread in her soft hair.

"F-fuck...Ellie..mmpph..ah...need you Ellie...please" You sounded so desperate, so needy, so fucking sweet. It made Ellie smirk against your soft skin, letting go of your nipple with a pop before she looked back up at you. In no time, her lips were pressed against yours again, swallowing your whines as she hummed softly. "Yeah? Need me to play with you baby? Where do you need me, hm? Go on..." She smirked teasingly, her words muffled with her lips smooshed against yours.

Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration as you huffed out, one of your hands coming down to slip underneath her t shirt, tugging at the waist band of her jeans.

"You're so...mmm..fuck...annoying...please fuck me Ellie..." You struggled to speak, especially when Ellie began rocking her hips against you, teasing you with the attention you needed most. You let out a soft moan, giving her shirt one more tug before she chuckled, pulling away so she could pull off her t shirt, followed by her jeans. "So needy...looks like ill have to sort you out then, won't I" She smirked softly as she grabbed you by your hips, pulling you closer as she tugged off your shorts and your panties.

You whined softly as you watched her strip in front of you, feeling the wet spot between your legs grow more and more with every new piece of her that was revealed to you. It was pathetic, how vocal you were being without even being touched, but you couldn't even care, not when she was giving you everything you wanted without so much of a fight.

She hissed softly against your lips, her fingers swiping back and forth between your glossy folds. "Fuck...lil pussy is just weeping for me, huh? Been long since you've been fucked baby?" Her words were taunting, filthy, and they made you huff as your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Just...come on El....need to feel you.." You whined, tugging her hand gently to pull her back to her spot in between your legs. She smirked softly as she watched you, her hand cupping your cheek gently before she pressed one more kiss to your lips. "I'll take care of you angel..dont you worry" She hummed out before she slotted herself between your legs.

She gripped your thigh in her hands, positioning herself so that her pussy was pressed up against yours. The feeling had you moaning before she could even move, her wet folds pressed up against yours made your eyes roll back, made your back arch, and if Ellie didn't know any better, she'd think you came just from that alone.

"Fuck...feel that baby? Feel how wet you've got me? thats it...thats a good fucking girl.." She moaned out, her words caged behind her gritted teeth as she began rolling her hips back and forth, her pussy gliding across yours, clit bumping against your own in a way that you had never felt before. It was almost as if she was designed for you, and you her, and it had you like putty in her hands.

"Ah!...y-yeah! Right there Ellie, oh my god" Your moans were breathy and needy, and Ellie couldn't help by smirk down at you, enjoying the show you were putting on for her a little too much. It was like a work of art, the way you just let the pleasure take you, the way you let her take you, it had her wanting to do more, go further, bring you the most pleasure you'd ever felt in your entire fucking life.

And you felt it. In the way she began speeding up, your moans egging her on to keep going. Her hand gripped your thigh tighter, giving her a better grip on your body to allow her to go faster. Your moans mixed together, and the wetness of your cores created a pornographic sound that you would most definitely feel embarrassed about tomorrow, but not now, not when you felt this fucking good.

Ellie moaned loudly, her head falling back as she went faster, feeling her stomach coil in that delicious way that she loved so much. And yours did too, you stared up at her in awe as she fucked her pussy down onto yours, and you whined, eyebrows furrowed with utter pleasure.

"Gonna cum...p-please cum with me Ellie..fuck...please" You didn't even have to ask, because Ellie was nodding her head the second she heard the pleas leave your swollen lips. "Yeah...fuck...yeah baby...gonna cum with you...gonna fucking...oh my god!" And as if timed perfectly, she felt white hot pleasure wash over her, and you felt the exact same.

Your back arched almost painfully, hands fisting the sheets beneath you as you came hard, the wet noises of your pussy's amplifying as Ellie slowed down, riding both yours and her orgasm out.

The sensitivity made you whimper, and Ellie breathed hard as she looked down at your worn out body. Your eyes were heavy, and she knew exactly what it meant. She placed her hands on your hips, pushing herself off of your wobbly legs before she walked off to the bathroom, grabbing a wet rag and cleaning herself up before grabbing another and coming back to do the same for you.

When she returned, you had rolled over onto your side, and your heavy eyes were fighting the drowsy, post sex nap that you so desperately needed. She smiled softly as she watched you, spreading your legs despite the soft, sleepy whine you let out. "I know baby...just gonna clean you up, then we can sleep, yeah?". She took the small noise you made as a response before she carried on cleaning you, taking the dirty rags after and putting them in your hamper before she returned to the bed.

She sighed out softly, gently pulling your sleepy form to lay with her underneath the covers, and almost immediately you were hiking your thigh over her leg and cuddling into her body. A soft, sleepy sound left your lips once again, and before she could even blink, soft snores were leaving your parted lips.

Ellie sighed softly as she stared down at you for a moment before she looked up at the ceiling, a familiar sinking feeling settling in on her stomach as she held you close. She decided shed ignore it, and instead focus on the warm feeling that you brought instead.

She would cross that bridge when she got to it.

#ellie x y/n #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #tlou #ellie williams x y/n #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #tlou 2 #the last of us part ii

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