#but when dad brought it up on the phone she was like oh yeah. he proposed to me too (¿¿¿)
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Do the Thing | Toilet Repair
logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.
series history; Previous Chapter
portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)
possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.
pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).
you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.
“I think my name is just Tony now.”
You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.
“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”
This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.
Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.
You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”
She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”
“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”
“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”
“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”
“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”
“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”
She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”
“Good things?”
“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”
You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”
“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”
“The connection?”
“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”
“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”
She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”
Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”
“Ah. N’ then…”
“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”
She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”
“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”
“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”
You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.
“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”
You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”
She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.
Off to fix an exploded toilet.
“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”
Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.
“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.
“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”
“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”
You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”
“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”
“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”
He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”
“Not a Chef!”
“Term of Respect, Chef!”
You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.
You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.
Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.
“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.
“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”
Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”
“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”
“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”
You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”
“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”
That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”
His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...
She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”
You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”
“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.
“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?
You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”
“Did they?”
Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”
You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.
“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.
She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”
This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.
It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.
But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.
On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”
They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”
He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”
“Really gonna practice your set on me?”
He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”
You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”
“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.
When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.
“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.
“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”
He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”
“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.
You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.
“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”
The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.
He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”
“I’m doing okay, yeah.”
Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.
You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”
He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”
Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.
He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.
“What the fuck?”
Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.
“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.
“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”
“In The Beef!”
“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”
He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”
He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.
“Well?” You start.
“Well?” He astutely adds.
You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”
“The thing?”
You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.
“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”
“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”
You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.
Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.
“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”
He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.
He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”
“What?”
“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.
He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.
He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”
“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.
“Huh?”
You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”
You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.
You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”
You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…
“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.
“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”
“Should get Fak on that, then.”
“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”
You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”
“If you’ll take it.”
“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”
“How’s that going?”
You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”
“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.
“How’s the second day open going?”
“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”
You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”
“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”
“You don’t seem happy about that.”
“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”
Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—
The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”
Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”
There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.
The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.
“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”
“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”
He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”
You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.
Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.
You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”
Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.
Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.
Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.
After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”
She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.
It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…
“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.
I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”
“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”
Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”
She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”
“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.
“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.
“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”
You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”
You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”
“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.
Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.
You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”
“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”
He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”
He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”
“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”
He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”
“Well?”
“Do the thing.”
You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”
“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.
“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”
He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”
Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.
“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.
He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”
You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”
He squints. “…How’re you—”
“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.
“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”
With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.
“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”
He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.
“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”
He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.
“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.
“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”
You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”
He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”
“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”
“Heard.”
You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”
He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”
“It is.”
“Oh.”
“But in a way you can fix.”
“How?”
“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”
“You can’t take yourself?”
“Bitch?”
“Kidding. Heard. What else?”
“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.
He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”
“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”
“The chaos menu? She said—”
“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”
He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”
“You’re reactive.”
“No shit.”
“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”
He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”
“It had been 23 minutes.”
“Oh.”
“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”
“…No.”
“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”
He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.
“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”
He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”
“I will not.”
“You just said I was a catastrophe.”
“Fully not what I said.”
“I read between the lines.”
“Carmen.”
You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”
He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”
“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.
“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.
You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”
He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”
“First restaurant too?”
He nods again.
“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”
There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.
“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”
“You’ll do better next time.”
He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”
“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”
“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.
“At what? Self-help?”
He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”
You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.
You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.
…
When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.
“Fucking Mikey!”
“What’d he do this time?”
You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”
She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”
“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”
“Oh.”
“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”
“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”
“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”
“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”
“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”
She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”
“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.
“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.
“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”
She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”
All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.
“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”
Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.
“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”
You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”
“Does it?”
“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.
She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”
Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?
“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”
You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.
“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”
You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.
“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”
You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”
You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”
“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”
“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.
“But?”
“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”
She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”
“It’s done. I’ll be there.”
“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”
Fuck.
Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.
Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!
Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!
Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!
Next Part
#carmen berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto#carmy x reader#carmen x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto#the bear fx#carmy the bear#the bear x you#the bear#the bear x reader#the bear fanfiction
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Okay only detail I'll share about my landlord actually because i just found out it happened multiple times . This guy proposed marriage to TWO different ex tenants ¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿
#the lady that lived here right before us.... left bc her husband died and couldnt afford rent#which like. slimy enough on its own .#but when dad brought it up on the phone she was like oh yeah. he proposed to me too (¿¿¿)#A MONTH AFTER HER HUSBAND DIED.... ¿ BRO ?
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Cookies!
Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader
Them : Angst, I think.
Word count : 2k
Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.
I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔
Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.
But you did.
There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.
Some even called you lucky.
A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.
But there were still ups and downs.
The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.
“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.
Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.
And so did Aaralyn.
Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.
“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”
You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”
“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.
“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.
She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”
“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”
“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.
“What kind of powder?”
“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.
••
Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.
“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.
“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.
The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.
“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.
“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.
You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.
“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.
“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.
You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.
“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.
“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.
“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.
Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”
“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”
You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.
“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.
“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.
Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.
“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.
“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.
Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.
“Daddy…?”
“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.
“It’s me, Alyn!”
“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.
Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.
Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.
“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.
“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”
“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.
Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”
Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.
“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.
“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.
“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”
“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.
“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.
“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.
“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”
Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.
You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.
“Come, baby,”
Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”
Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.
“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”
“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.
“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”
**
Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.
3:02
Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.
It was empty. Untouched even.
“Honey?”
His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.
“Aaralyn. Honey?”
Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.
“Daddy’s
— Aarlyn ❤️”
••
You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.
As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.
Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.
“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.
“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.
“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.
“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.
“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”
“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.
“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.
“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.
“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”
#football imagine#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham fics#football imagines#football fics#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham imagines
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comfort crowd
boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader
- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else
- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍
You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.
A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.
The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.
Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.
You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.
“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.
She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.
“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“
“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”
You simply nod at her in response.
“Alright then, Abby.”
After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:
“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”
Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?
Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.
That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.
And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.
You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”
You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.
“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.
Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”
Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.
Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.
Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.
She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.
You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”
As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”
You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.
You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.
“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.
You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”
“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.
“Right, thank you, Abby.”
You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.
Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.
But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.
The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.
Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.
And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.
The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.
You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.
Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.
As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.
Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.
All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.
Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.
You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.
It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.
Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?
Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.
At that moment, she wanted to make things right.
Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.
Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”
Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.
She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:
“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”
Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.
Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”
You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.
You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.
“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”
You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”
The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”
It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…
Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”
You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.
“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”
Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.
Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”
You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.
Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.
“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”
Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”
You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”
She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.
“…you.”
A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”
You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.
“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.
And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.
But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?
You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.
Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.
Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”
With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.
However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.
Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.
You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.
“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“
“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”
You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“
“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.
“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”
Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.
Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.
“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”
The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”
You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.
So you give in this time.
“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”
And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.
Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”
You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.
“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.
You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.
“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.
You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.
Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.
That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.
So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.
“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”
As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.
You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.
You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“
“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”
You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”
“Better than him, right?”
“Yeah. Better than him.”
A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”
You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.
Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.
The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.
Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”
“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”
You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.
She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.
“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”
Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.
“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”
“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.
“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”
All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.
The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.
Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.
At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.
Abby was waiting for you to cum first.
You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.
“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.
“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”
At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.
“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.
Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.
Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.
Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.
Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.
You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.
Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”
You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.
And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.
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#abby anderson#abby anderson the last of us 2#abby anderson smut#boyfriend’s mom!abby#abby x reader smut#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson tlou#abby the last of us#abby anderson x reader#abby x reader#abby x you#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x you#abby anderson the last of us#abby anderson fanfiction#the last of us#abby tlou#the last of us x reader#the last of us part 2#the last of us fanfiction#wlw#abby the last of us 2#the last of us 2#tlou2 x reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou part 2#tlou fic#if you’re reading this i love older women
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My boyfriend's dad || Boyfriend’s dad ! Joel x reader
Summary: When you meet your boyfriend at his family house, you find out he’s at a party and cheating on you. Your boyfriend’s dad offers to take care of you and show you what a real man is like. (2kwords of pure filth)
Based on this request!
CW: Talks of cheating, polyamory undertone, Joel is married to bisexual Tess, oral sex (f and m receiving), petnames, praising, protected sex, talks of voyeurism, unspecified age gap (reader is an adult), Joel has a dirty fucking mouth, innocent reader.
Please reblog if you enjoyed and check out my masterlist !
You had been dating Chris for a few months now. He wasn’t… the best boyfriend, per se, but he always pulled you back to him when you wanted to walk away. In retrospect, you didn’t know what kept you with him.
Maybe… it was to keep seeing his dad. It was fucked up. Mr. Miller was an handsome man in his late 40s, maybe early 50s, married with an equally hot woman, Tess. But you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore when you imagined his dad instead of Chris pounding into you.
It was a Friday night, and you were supposed to meet Chris at his place to spend time with him. But when you knocked on the door, his dad answered instead of him. Chris’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but still, you had hoped to see him.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Miller! Is… Chris here?”
You felt his burning gaze trailing down your figure dressed with tight clothes.
“M’sorry sweetheart, Chris said he was going out with friends.”
You frowned and tried to hide your disappointment. “Oh… we were supposed to see each other.”
Joel seemed sorry; he knew his son wasn’t the best boyfriend.
“Look, you came all the way here. ” He looked at you, uncomfortable. “D’you wanna come in and maybe try to call him?”
“T-Thanks.” He moved from the door and let you come in. The house was silent. It seemed like his wife and his oldest daughter weren’t home.
“Is miss Miller still working night shifts?” You asked, standing in the entryway awkwardly as he closed the door behind you.
“Yeah… hospital’s kickin’ her butt. ”
“She… she’s doing a necessary job. You must be proud of your wife.”
Your boyfriend’s dad didn’t respond, instead, he gestured towards the living room, so you’d come in. You kicked off your shoes and sat on the leather couch. Mr. Miller brought you the house phone.
“He gave me his friend’s number in case of emergency, let me get it for you.”
He typed in the number, and you watched as he waited for the phone to ring with a concentrated look on his face, eyebrows frowned.
“Hey Johnny, yeah, is my son there?... Why is the music so fuckin’ loud…?.. Yeah, please. Put him on the line.”
He passed you the phone and gave you some space, going to the kitchen. On the phone, you heard the shuffling of blankets and a female voice as you picked it up.
“Hey, thought we were meeting tonight?” The nails on your free hand were digging in your palm, as you tried to contain your anger, understanding what was going on.
“Yeah sorry, Johnny was feeling low.” He could barely get any words out.
“Is this why you sound drunk as fuck?! And who am I hearing behind you?”
“Well…”
“You know what, Christopher Miller?! I’m done with you. Have fun.”
You aggressively hung up the phone. You were so used to Chris’s bullshit, that you didn’t even cry. You were just angry. You put up your legs against your chest as you tried to calm yourself.
Mr Miller came back with a glass of fresh water. You thanked him.
“M’sorry sweetheart… I’m afraid my son’s a real asshole.”
You looked up at him and shrugged.
“I guess… I should know by now.” You got up to leave. “I’m sorry for the bother, Mr. Miller. I’ll go home now.”
“No, no… Please.” His hand held your arm to stop you. You turned around to look at the older man, puzzled, but you couldn’t help the shivers that ran through your body. “You shouldn’t drive right now. You’re angry. Wait it off, or I’ll give you a ride home.”
You didn’t want to be impolite and decline his offer, so you went back to the couch, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. You finally took a sip of the glass of water Mr Miller had given you earlier. Your boyfriend’s dad sat beside you; big hands laid on his lap.
“Y’know… It’s not a huge loss.” You looked up at him as he said that to you, confused that he was talking like that about his own son. “I’ve heard you fuck, and I can tell when a woman is faking.”
He was right, but still, you choked on your water and put the glass on the table in front of you. Mr Miller’s warm eyes locked with yours. Were you seeing… the familiar glow of lust in his blown-out irises?
“He never took care of you the right way, hm? Only thought about his own pleasure? Poor babydoll…” His calloused hand met the soft skin of your blushed cheek. “I’ll show you what a real man’s like.”
Before you could even respond, Joel’s mouth was on yours. Your hands laid flat on his chest as you pushed him away slightly to ask:
“But… your wife?” In your head, right now, the father was just as bad as his son.
“Oh, don’t worry. Tess begged me to take care of you. S’a shame that she’s not here right now. We have an agreement.”
You felt arousal pool between your legs as you imagined Joel and his wife thinking about you in that way.
“I… okay.” You were barely reassured, but you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself when you had wanted this since you started dating his son. You straddled Joel’s thighs, and looked down at him lustfully, before finding his plush lips again. Even if you were on top of him, the older male had total control over you. He invited you to open your mouth with the slid of his tongue. You tasted all of him ; you couldn’t help moaning inside his mouth.
“Knew you wanted this too, hm? Were you thinking about me while my son was fucking you?” He said against the skin of your neck, where he left open-mouthed kisses.
“Y-Yes… Yes I wanted this, Mr. Miller. Still do. Please.”
You felt his arousal through the thin fabric you were wearing. He seemed… really big. As he got up, Joel tucked his hands under your ass, and you wrapped your legs around him while he brought you up the stairs. You thought he would bring you to his own room, but instead, he brought you to Chris’. He laid you down on the familiar bed. It was an asshole move, yes, but god did it turn you on. Joel’s hands slid down the clothes covering your core, and you shivered when you felt the coldness on your wet folds.
“I’ll use my mouth on you, how d’ya feel about this, babydoll?” He asked as he kneeled in front of the bed. His hands pulled on your thighs to bring you closer, his face centimeters away from your heat.
“Please.” You didn’t say it, but Chris never did it.
“Hmm, so polite.” As he went even closer, the vibration of his raspy voice against your skin made you shiver. The older man tentatively licked at your folds, collecting the wetness that was forming there.
You squirmed, sensitive.
“Oh babydoll, you’ve never done that, haven’t you?” He looked up at you with pity in his pretty eyes. Your boyfriend’s dad looked so fucking beautiful like this, dark eyes following your movements. From this angle he was just a pretty head of curly hair between your legs.
You shook your head “no”.
His hands held down your thighs as he licked at your core more confidently this time. He took it slow, letting you get used to this new sensation. Your head was spinning, it was better than anything you had experienced before. He traced lazy circles, getting closer and closer to your clit. When he hit it with the tip of his tongue, you moaned and grabbed at his hair to hold him there.
“There it is... my sweet girl…” He pressed confidently against your little bud of nerves, before putting his lips around it to suck it. Your fingers pulled on his hair as you cried out his name. He sucked roughly as he sneaked a finger into your wet heat. One finger was already filling you up, you didn’t know you could take more, but the pressure he put on your clit kept you away from the pain.
He stretched you up slowly, and when he felt like you were ready, he added another one. It was… a lot, and you felt your stomach twisting with pleasure. His fingers moved expertly until they found that perfect spot, which they hit again and again as he kept pleasing you with his tongue. You threw your head back, white stars filling your vision while you came hard. Joel helped you through your orgasm and slowed down, until he stopped.
“Was that good, babydoll?” He asked as he got up and wiped his mouth.
You nodded enthusiastically, which made him laugh. You backed away a little to give him space, and he took place between your open legs. You sat up and pulled on his tight shirt. He helped you take it off. He was still in shape despite his age. Just like you had imagined.
“Mr Miller… can I… please you?”
“Fuck. You’re too good, babydoll. I wanna focus on ya.”
“No, I really want to. Please. ” You begged with pretty eyes.
“Fine. Let me see those nice tits first, hm?”
He kissed you roughly, and pulled on your shirt, until you broke the kiss to help him take it off. Of course, you weren’t wearing any bra. His hand grabbed your breast, and you cried when he leaned in to suck on your hard nipple. Your shaky fingers found his belt, and he helped you get himself out of his pants. He took off his last layers and laid beside you. You looked at his dick with wide eyes. His hand caressed your cheek to reassure you.
“You don’t have to take all of it in, babydoll.” With the pressure of his hand, he coaxed you to get closer to his hard and leaking member. You leaned down, giving him a perfect view of you tits, and your ass up in the air.
Your hand took care of the base as you opened your lips and slowly slid his cock between your lips. You let it lay heavily on your flat tongue, before closing your mouth around it. His fingers found your messy hair to encourage you.
“Doin’ so good fo’ me.”
With the help of his encouragement, you bobbed your head up and down as you sucked in your cheeks. Joel cursed and laid back on the bed. He had an arm over his face, probably concentrating on not painting your mouth already with cum. You sucked his dick enthusiastically, your hand taking care of the base. After a few more strokes, he said:
“You’re gonna make me cum all over your face, babydoll.”
You moaned in response, your voice vibrating around his thick dick. He pulled on your hair to move you away. You looked beautiful like this, red lips glistening with a mixture of precum and saliva, your makeup running down your cheeks.
“Stop. Let me fuck you, now.”
You laid down, waiting for him as he got condoms and lube, which he used to coat your entrance and his latex-covered girth. You spread your legs for him.
“I’ll be gentle with you, but you tell me what ya need.”
“T-Thank you.”
He kissed you softly, as he pushed his length between your folds. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, keeping him close and pushing his dick further into you. He stopped when he was fully into you, looking down at your face to make sure you were okay.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight, wish I could fuck you bare. But you’ll get tested and I’ll fuck you bare after that. Would love to fill your pretty hole and make you mine.”
The fact that he wanted to fuck you again after this made your stomach flutter with excitation.
“O-Okay. ” Your lips found the curve of his throat, where a vein was appearing. “You can move.”
He started slowly and not going to deep. But you pushed on the small of his back with your feet to encourage him.
“Can take more, Mr Miller. Please.”
He went deeper a few thrusts later, and you moaned. “Fuck, yes, that’s it…” You were so loud; thank God you were alone. Even though part of you wished Chris was here to hear what a real orgasm sounded like.
The movements of his hips got rougher and rougher, as he fucked deep into you. You felt a new sensation when he hit deep into you and when his fingers found your clit to circle it around it, bringing you closer to another orgasm. You screamed when you came and your walls closed around him, trapping him deep. Joel joined you soon after, fucking roughly into your walls until he found his release.
He kissed your sweaty forehead and got himself out, getting up to put the condom in the trash. He then laid beside you and pulled you close with his strong arm. You were breathing heavily, still on your high.
“Glad to hear you have a real orgasm, babydoll.”
You smiled lazily and kissed his jaw.
Lights filled the corridor, and the door of the bedroom was wide open. Tess appeared in the doorframe, and you pulled the blanket over you as a reflex, but she simply smirked as she looked at you two, laid beautifully on her son’s bed.
“You could’ve waited for me… ” She approached the bed and held your chin up with two fingers. Tess was a beautiful woman, even after hours of work as a nurse. “I’m so glad you got fucked real good, sweetheart.” She kissed your forehead, which made you blush. “Let me shower and I wanna see you two go at it again.”
You were hypnotized by the woman. You have never done anything with a woman before, but you’d do anything for her.
“Of course, miss Miller.” You said with a smile.
“Good girl.” Whispered Joel, sending shivers down your spine.
#bfd!joel#writing requests#dad!joel#joel miller x tess servopoulos#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#joel miller x you#joel miller x yn#joel miller x y/n#hbo joel miller#joel miller x tess servopoulos x reader#bfd!joelmiller#bfd ! joel miller
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the problem with arguing
a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner
summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?
warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.
1.6k + words.
“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it.
I knock again as I huff.
“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye.
“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh.
“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?”
A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile.
“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?”
My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.”
The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness.
“You two know what time it is?” He yawns.
“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?”
“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure.
He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”
We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.
And that’s when it all goes black.
I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me.
“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number.
I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron.
“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.
Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails.
“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out.
“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise.
“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks.
I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out.
I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt.
“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed.
“Jack,” I sigh in relief.
“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive.
Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”
I smile at both of them.
“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor.
“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off.
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke.
“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy.
The next day, the team come in to visit.
“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me.
“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”
“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says.
“We got the guy-” Emily starts.
“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”
“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”
I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray.
“Hungry?” He smiles.
“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.
“Yes.”
I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”
“No.”
My face drops. “Oh.”
“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I did.”
I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”
“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”
“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.”
His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy.
“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds.
“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food.
“I love you too.”
#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#bau team#bau x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#bau imagine#penelope garcia#spencer reid#aaron hotch hotchner#criminal minds x you
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F!MC: Riddle? Is there something wrong?
Trey: Yeah. You won the contest, but why are you not happy?
Cater: Well, it's not just Ridz who seems unhappy here.
Riddle: I am fine.
F!MC: ...
F!MC: Riddle?
Riddle: !!!
Riddle: ...
Riddle: Ridz and I had an encounter with some Royal Sword Academy students.
Riddle: And one of them... TRIED TO REQUEST YOUR PHONE NUMBER! *his face turns red in anger*
F!MC: Eh?
Toddler Riddle: It's true, Mama. *frowns*
F!MC: W-Well, it's not like you have given it to him, right?
Riddle: HE SAID HE FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU AT FIRST SIGHT! HOW DARE HE?!
Trey and Cater: *had to hold back their laughter*
F!MC: ...
F!MC: *extends a hand to gently pat his head* *smiles apologetically*
F!MC: It must've been an ordeal. I'm really sorry about that, Riddle.
Riddle: ...
Riddle: *immediately calms down* No... It was nothing, miss.
Toddler Riddle: Mama, don't give your number to anyone, okay?
F!MC: *chuckles* Of course!
Azul: Lady MC will end up single for a long time if you are this overprotective, Riddle.
Idia: Lol. So? Let her enjoy her youth. Marriage can wait.
Riddle: Just like what Idia-senpai said, Miss MC deserves to enjoy her youth and potential suitors should refrain from approaching her.
Leona: Sure. But let's not forget that it's her choice whether she wants to remarry or not.
Vil: Please, Leona. We all know that if MC does find someone, you will oppose it.
Leona: Of course. I'm her older brother here.
Kalim: Speaking of prospective suitor, I think my dad wants me to court her when given the chance.
Riddle: You don't know how to take care of yourself. No.
Kalim: I-
Idia: *laughs*
Azul: My, my. Did you really have to criticize him like that, Riddle?
Sebek: Human! I have brought the books you requested from Waka-sama!
F!MC: Th-Thank you so much.
Silver: Sebek, lower your voice, please. You startled her.
F!MC: N-No. It's fine.
Sebek: What are you going to do with all these medical books, human?
F!MC: I'd like to do some self-study.
Silver: Oh, right. Didn't you ask for history and geography books as well?
F!MC: Yes.
Sebek: Why are you studying diligently, human?
F!MC: For my son Riddle. As his mom, I need to be 20 steps—no, 50 steps—ahead of him.
Silver: I think I understand you. You want to answer every question he will ask if he ever needs them.
F!MC: *smiles* Yes.
Sebek: Hm. That is commendable, human. However, wouldn't it be better to go to school?
F!MC: ...
F!MC: I did try asking some schools here that offer co-ed. Unfortunately, they expressed concern about my status. *smiles awkwardly*
Sebek: O-Oh.
F!MC: Anyway, they promised to give me a call if there happens to be a special program I could enroll in.
Sebek: Hmph! You needn't to wait! Should distance not be an issue, I can suggest a school for you situated in Briar Valley!
F!MC and Silver: ...
Silver: Sebek?
F!MC: You would do that?
Sebek: Yes! And bringing your son won't even be an issue!
Silver: ...
Silver: *smiles; looks proud of him*
Sebek: What are you smiling at, Silver?!
F!MC: *chuckles*
#twisted wonderland#twst teen!mom mc#twst toddler riddle oc#twst riddle#twst trey#twst cater#twst housewardens#twst silver#twst sebek
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Hooked On A Feeling
Chapter Twelve - Mr Ricciardo
Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.
Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)
1.8K
Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader
Series Masterlist
"So, tell me, why is it I have to wait for the neighbours boy to tell me that you've got a boyfriend?"
"Mum," Y/N tutted as she chopped the vegetables. "I haven't got a boyfriend, okay?"
Her mother sighed and she could picture her pinching the bridge of her nose out of frustration. "I've seen the clip. I've seen you kissing the man in the white suit."
Daniel, she was talking about Daniel.
"And, was that my grandson behind you? Do you know how heart breaking it is that this is the first time I'm seeing Milo?" Her mother continued.
Y/N rolled her eyes. But she was used to it by now, used to her mother berating her. "You've done this to yourself," she bit back. "You didn't want to support me when I was pregnant with Milo, so you don't have the right to know him." She pulled the phone away from her ear and ended the call.
She took just a moment to gather herself. Conversations with her mother always rattled her, but she couldn't bring herself to remove her mother from her life. Maybe one day she'd give her parents a chance to know Milo, she just wasn't ready for that yet.
"Momma," Milo called as he walked into the kitchen. He climbed into his seat at the table and placed his colouring book in front of him. It was a Formula One themed colouring book and Milo happily tried to colour in the Ferrari.
Y/N placed the vegetables into the pan with the already cooked chicken. "What is it, my little munchkin?" She asked as she sat opposite him.
Milo kicked his legs as he coloured in the number sixteen on the car. "Do you think Mr Ricciardo will take us to another race?" He asked.
Thank God Milo hadn't asked his mother why she had kissed Mr Ricciardo. He hadn't brought it up at all. But he had dragged Y/N away the moment Daniel had pulled away from her. And he had insisting on holding all of her attention on their way home.
She and Daniel hadn't had a moment alone since they returned home two days ago. They'd tried to text, but Y/N immediately went back to work and Daniel was training. Olivia was with her mother, so she didn't even see him when dropping Milo off at daycare.
"I don't know, munchkin," Y/N said as she pulled out her phone. "Would you like him to?" She texted Daniel as she waited for Milo to answer.
"No," he answered, and Y/N looked up.
She frowned at her son. "Why not, Milo? What's up, munchkin?"
Milo muttered something under his breath, something that Y/N couldn't hear. So she asked him to say it again. "I don't want you to date Mr Ricciardo, momma! You won't have time for me if you date him," he muttered under his breath.
Suddenly Y/N stood up. She walked around the stable and stood at Milo's side. "Oh, munchkin," she whispered as she knelt down beside him. She wasn't going to tell him about the text Daniel had just sent her, it would make him far too upset. "If your momma ever starts dating, she's not gonna have less time for you," she said as she pulled him close. "You'll always be my number one guy, even if I date Mr Ricciardo."
"Are you gonna date Mr Ricciardo?" Asked Milo as he swung his legs back and forth.
Y/N let out a sigh. "Mr Ricciardo has asked if I would like to go to dinner with him," she said as she stood up straight. "That means you get a sleepover with Livvy, and her grandparents are gonna look after you," she said and went back sorting dinner. "Are you okay with that, Munchkin?"
He thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, momma. Sleepover with 'Livia!" He cried and went back to colouring.
y/n (milo's hot momma)
tomorrow
are you okay if milo stays with olivia and your parents?
daniel riiiiiciaaaardoooo
of course
i'll let them know
She plated up dinner and placed on in front of Milo, putting his colouring book and pencils up on the counter. They didn't mention Daniel and Olivia for the rest of the night. As much as Milo said he was okay with it, Y/N still want' sure. So she didn't say anything.
***
She hadn't been out on a date since before Milo was born. Y/N didn't have any date clothes, which is why she went shopping on her lunch break.
There wasn't a lot she could afford, nothing too fancy. She searched through the shops for the entirety of the half an hour she had for a lunch break. It took a few attempts in a few different shops before she found the dress she'd wear out to dinner with Daniel.
It was black and fit to her body. She skirt was short, with a tiny, little slit on the side. Nothing like what anybody would expect to see her in, but she felt beautiful when she tried it on. It was going to be perfect for her date with Daniel.
It stayed in the back of the car while she completed her day at the office. It stayed in the back of the car when she picked Milo up from daycare.
She got Milo ready for his sleepover at the same time that she got ready for her date with Daniel. She showered as Milo packed away his toys.
For the drive over to his house, she was dressed down, wearing just her sweats. The dress only came out of her car when she and Milo walked up to the house. She kept it clutched tightly in her hands as they knocked on the door and waited for Daniel to answer.
"Milo!" He called the moment he opened the door.
"Mr Ricciardo!" Milo cried, attaching himself to his leg.
He offered Y/N a smile as she walked into the house. Immediately Daniel went to get Milo settled with Olivia while she went to the bathroom to get changed.
When she came out of the bathroom Milo was already comfortable with Olivia's grandparents, telling them his favourite facts about his favourite dinosaurs. He already had Rexy out and the beginnings of Jurassic park was playing on the television in the background.
"Munchkin," Y/N called softly from the doorway.
All eyes turned to her. At Daniels stare she felt herself become rather bashful. He muttered a 'wow' under his breath, but she didn't react.
But Milo still ran over to his momma. "Are you sure you're be okay here with Olivia and her grandparents?" She asked softly as she crouched down to his height (while still trying to keep herself dignified.
"Yeah, momma," Milo said. "Go and have fun." He sounded so grown up, she could have cried. She wrapped her arms around him for just a second before letting him run back to Olivia and her grandparents to tell them the rest of the facts he knew.
Daniel strode towards her and offered her his arm. "Shall we?" He asked. Looping her arm through his, she nodded her head, and they left the house.
She hadn't been on a date in so long, she had forgotten what they were like. Or, maybe no date she'd ever been on before was as good as this one.
Daniel was a perfect gentleman for the entire night. He opened doors for her, pulled out her seat for her, let her order whatever she wanted, and insisted on paying.
Dinner was incredible. The food was good, the drinks were good, and Daniel was even better. She tried to argue with him about the payment, but Daniel wouldn't let her. There was no way he was letting Milo's hot momma pay on the first date.
That night she confessed to him what her dreams were. It wasn't something she liked talking about, not since having Milo. It wasn't that she didn't pursue her dreams because of Milo, but she was a single mum who had moved across the country. She didn't have the time or the money for dreaming.
"I hate to say it," she began as they walked back out to the car, hands joined, swinging between them. "But I'm actually enjoying a night off from parenting."
"Don't feel bad," Daniel said as he pulled open the passenger door for her. But Y/N shook her head. Aside from her little comment, it wasn't something she wanted to talk about. If anything, she wanted to get back to Milo.
Daniel shut the door and climbed into the drivers seat. "Come on," he began. "We've got one more stop before we head home."
"We do?"
Daniel couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. He started the car and began driving, heading away from the restaurant. The further they drove the less busy the roads got. The city lights soon faded but Daniel kept driving.
It was only when they were in the middle of nowhere that he stopped. Out here they could see the stars. "Wow," she whispered as she opened the car door and stepped out. Her outfit wasn't really suited for the cool night air, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she leaned against the hood of the car.
"Have I told you that you look really good?" Daniel asked as he sat beside her. He placed his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into his side.
She couldn't stop her giggle as she allowed herself to rest against him. "Yes, Daniel. Several times." She looked up at the stars with her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Daniel. You also look great."
He was in a simple pair of jeans and white shirt. But damn did it suit him.
She couldn't stop herself from grabbing his hand and tracing her fingertips over his tattoos. "Tonight has been amazing. I don't think I've been on a date since I was maybe seventeen," she confessed.
"We're gonna have to make up for lost time," he said, leaning his face closer to hers.
He was addicting, and she couldn't help but find herself drawn to him. Drawn in close enough to kiss him. His hand was cupping her cheek, fingers pushing stray hairs behind her ear.
Just like kissing Daniel the first time, it was amazing. He quite literally took her breath away. But neither of them wanted to pull away, not until they were desperate. Even then, Daniel still rested his forehead against hers. "Be mine," he whispered, his lips almost touching hers again.
She couldn't stop herself from stealing another kiss. "Not until I take you on a date, Mr Ricciardo," she said smugly.
Mr Ricciardo. He liked the sound of that.
Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow
#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo x reader smut#daniel ricciardo x you#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#dr3#dr3 imagine#dr3 x reader
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Jade, my beloved!! <3
What about reader going over to Eddie's trailer and Roan starts clinging to reader, and Eddie tries to apologize but reader absolutely does not mind at all and happily carries Roan around? (The way you write kiddos is so sweet😭)
omg YES thank you . girl dad Eddie forever <3 | fem!reader
You and Eddie (and Roan, his mirror image daughter) have been on one date.
It's not easy getting to know someone when they bring their baby but you'd figured it was the only reasonable option. He's gonna have her for the rest of his life and you wouldn't have it any other way besides, so you'd told him to bring her and you'd stuffed her full of chocolate cake. You'd wanted her to like you.
You might've done too good a job.
Eddie called you after the date — the next morning, to your delighted surprise — and told you how much fun he had. How he'd love to see you again. You'd enough butterflies to lose your mind and told him absolutely, yes, but what day's good for you?
So your next date is a week away. You're eager to see him again. You're excited to see his daughter, too, because she'd been lovely and sweet, quiet though she'd certainly known how to throw a tantrum.
Eddie calls you two days after the first phone call and says, "Listen, do you want to come over for dinner?"
"Now?"
"If you're not busy."
So here you are. Standing outside of his trailer home in Forest Hills Trailer Park with a teddy bear in one hand and a bottle of sparkling cider in the other, nervously shifting from foot to foot and wondering if maybe you should've brought wine. Or beer. But no, right? He has a baby. Kind of.
You knock and wait. There's scrambling feet, obviously smaller footsteps pittering over the floor and then a bang against the door. You flinch and wait.
"Hello?" you call.
"Oh, shit," someone says from further away. "I'm coming!"
"Shit," a little voice echoes.
"No!" Eddie calls, horrified.
Quick footsteps. The deadbolt slides free and the door opens.
Eddie's shepherded Roan behind him just enough to let you in. "You can't say that, babe. It's a bad word," he tells her, face hidden behind a sheet of messy curls.
Roan doesn't take any notice of him. She's stopped dead behind him in an actual princess dress. Tiny clip on earrings hang from her small earlobes and her dark curls are pulled up into dainty pig tails. Her lips part and expose the pink of tongue and all her pearly baby teeth, and then she screams.
"Yes!" she says, and throws herself at you.
Her arms wrap around your legs and her face rubs into your thighs. When you don't hug back she looks up at you with wide brown eyes, all her dad's, and blinks.
"Baby, you can't-" Eddie sighs and scrubs a hand across his jaw. "I'm sorry," he apologises.
You hold out the teddy bear and the cider and he takes both on instinct. Hands free, you lean down to give Roan a tentative hug.
"Hi, princess. I'm happy to see you too, and in your lovely dress! You look so pretty," you baby-talk, bubbly and light and very, very enamoured by the warmth of her small body clutching your thighs.
"She- I said you were coming and she told me she had to wear the princess dress," Eddie explains.
You turn your attention from your cuddle and find him as handsome as you'd left him last Thursday. He's dressed not nearly as fancy as he had been, though this feels more him. A band t-shirt, a pair of black jeans. His tattoos play stark over the length of his arms.
This is more like it.
"Yeah? Good, she should wear it. She's pretty as any princess I've seen."
Eddie tries to separate your clinger so he can shut the door but Roan adamantly refuses it.
"Up," she says, hands grabbing.
"Roan, Y/N doesn't want to-"
"Up please!"
You don't have a clue how to pick up a toddler so you squat down. Roan wraps her arms around your neck and squeals with happiness as you stand. The tulle of her skirt is scratchy under your palms.
"You really don't have to," Eddie says. He sounds worried.
You meet his eyes and try to adjust your hold until she's comfortable as you say, "Hey, it's okay. If it's okay with you?"
He's still for a moment.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's okay," he says softly.
You smile until he smiles back.
Roan pulls away from your neck to touch your neck. You shiver at her cold hands and rub up the length of her back. "Are you cold?" you fret.
"She just had an ice pop."
You raise your eyebrows at him. Dipping your head toward your shoulder, you fix your knowing gaze on Roan. "Is that so? What flavour do you like? No, let me guess..." You take in the purple at the corner of her mouth and beam. "Grape yeah? I like grape too. You have good taste."
"Can I get you a drink?" Eddie asks, wielding the apple cider.
Talking to Roan is a piece of cake. Talking to her dad is nowhere near as easy. You feel like you're in school again as he watches you, your lips curving into a funny excuse for a smile.
"Please."
He disappears to the kitchenette. You press Roan's chest to yours and search their living room for details, curious and hungry to know more about them. They've got a thousand things, not a lick of space between toys, so many toys, pinks and purples like a wave carpeting the floor.
There's a small square table painted pink outfitted by saucers and teacups. There are three chairs, two pink and plastic and one a wooden drum stool, and at each sits a teddy bear.
"Having a party?" you ask.
Roan nods at you. "A tea party."
"A tea party!" you echo, impressed by her neat pronunciation. She's precious when she isn't on her knees screaming.
"For Teddy," she says.
"Yeah? Which one's Teddy?"
She turns to the table and points at the pink bear with a missing ear.
"Why don't you finish your tea party, Roan?" Eddie asks, then says to you, quieter, "You can put her down if you want to."
You take that as a You should put her down now and start to bend. Roan wraps her arms around your neck and clings, knees digging into your sides.
"No," she moans miserably.
"Baby," Eddie starts.
"No," she says again, meaner. You swoop her back up toward your chest, worried she'll start crying.
You feel awkward because it's obvious Eddie is embarrassed by her showing off. She starts to whine loudly and he gets worse, sending you an apologetic look as he approaches.
You can hear the apple cider sparkling away in the glasses in his hands, he talks to her that gently. "Roan, Y/N can't hold you all night, baby. She wants a drink. You don't like carrying Teddy all day, do you?"
Roan cries.
"It's really okay. I don't mind, I promise," you say.
The 'I promise,' comes out ridiculous. Too warm. Too genuine.
Eddie beams at you, almost haphazard. "Okay, awesome, because she's about to go nuclear and I don't think we'll survive it."
"Does she scream?"
"Full nine yards, slaps her hands on the floor, rolls around."
You gasp. "No! No way, do you really show off like that?" you ask her sympathetically. "I can't believe you'd ever do something like that, you're such a sweetheart. Is your daddy telling me lies?" You stroke down her cheek until she laughs, tickled. "He's lying, isn't he?"
"If you stick around long enough you'll see."
You don't flinch. "I can't wait."
Roan giggles wildly as you tickle down into the crease of her neck. You laugh in response, completely infected by her joy.
"She has a really lovely laugh," you praise.
"She's not the only one," Eddie says seriously.
You meet his gaze over her bunches and wrinkle your nose at him when he winks.
He's a real charmer when he wants to be. You're just dying to be charmed.
-
more eddie and roan
#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things#eddie munson x fem!reader#fem!reader#dad!eddie munson#eddie and roan
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Hi can i please request something where simon and his wife find out one of their kid's friends has abusive parents so they decide to adopt them😢💔
Guardian Angels
You noticed it, the bruise, the way the little girl would ask things. So when you brought it up to Simon, immediate action came through
A/N: OH MY HELL, this hurts a lot. But I am so glad that the child will have a safe and loving home. My heart HURTS!
Hope this is something that was worth waiting for! 😌
Warnings: mentions of abuse, physical abuse, neglect abuse, childhood trauma, child abuse, angst, trauma, PURE FUCKING DEPRESSION, fluff, wife!reader, husband!simon, swearing
simon x reader guide
simon x reader family
You froze, your blood turning ice cold, your heart breaking. You noticed a small scratch on the child, when you lifted their shirt it was worse. “I got into the snacks. Daddy didn’t like it.” She whispered holding back the tears.
You inhaled deeply feeling the shake of it. You never would believe it. No way someone would hurt a 6 year old child. The puzzle pieces started to form together, the way that she would flinch whenever you would lift a finger. The way she would be shocked about handing her a snack. A small snack anything. It made your heart break even more knowing that there were signs.
“What about your mom? Where is she?” You asked softly putting her shirt down.
She looked away from you. “I don’t know.”
You looked into her beautiful blue eyes. God a child. You nodded and told her that she was spending the night, that you would talk to her dad. Luckily her dad approved acting like nothing was going on. You noted that you would drop her off the next day. You called Simon right after that.
“I’m almost done here sweethear.’ Do you need me to pick anything up for dinner?” He asked sweetly right when he picked up.
It was silent on your end. Making him perk up a bit. Until he heard the sob. A sob that he never heard before, he adjusted himself. “What’s wrong,” He asked softly but with concern. When you kept quietly sobbing he started to pack up. “I’m comin’ home.”
“Okay…I will tell you when you get here.” You choked out in more sobs. Trying to get yourself together, hearing little footsteps pattering outside your bedroom door.
“Mummy,” Your daughter said through the door. “Lilli and I want pizza! Can we get pizza!”
“Of course hun, one second mommy is in the phone. I will let daddy go grab some!” You said back in which you heard little cheers before the footsteps sprinted away. “Grab pizza.”
“‘lright then I will be home soon. I love ya.” He whispered feeling more concerned.
The girls were excited to see Simon coming in with pizza. Your daughter running to him squeezing his leg, giggling when he moved his leg up to walk forward as she clinged harder. You looked over at Lilli who stood in the corner waiting for him. She just watched as he placed the pizza down on the counter then looked up at you.
“Is it okay I can eat?” She mumbled. You nodded and knelt down.
“You can always eat here sweet girl.” You whispered as her face beamed running over to your daughter.
Simon looked over at you as he placed pizzas on plates. You still stood in the hallway, hugging yourself. He looked down at Lilli. “Here Lills use both hands, go sit with Millie. Y/n and I will join soon yeah?”
She cautiously and gently grabbed the plate from him. “Thank you.” She whispered before sprinting to sit next to Millie.
Simon came and kissed you softly. “Let’s go to the room.” He mumbled before you followed him in.
Right when the door shut the sob came out. Simon quickly grabbed you pulling you into a hug. “Love, what’s goin’ on?”
After a few quick breaths you spoke. Explaining everything, from the time he was out on his 3 month assignment and finding the bruises and cuts. Simon listened to every word, asking questions to make sure you knew what you saw. That it wasn’t just a kid being a kid.
Simon’s leg was bouncing hard up and down. You knew of his past, you knew saying these things would bring up memories of his that he tucks so far away from him, was coming to light. Simon stared at the wall for a moment, thinking. He knew the signs well, it was the same signs he gave when his father would beat him and his brother.
He thought about every scenario, the first one was to go to the bastards home and beat him until he saw god himself. Kill him and possibly have the team help cover it up. Make the man get the taste of his own medicine.
Simon thought about how tiny Lilli is, how quiet she would be when he would come around. It wasn’t for a couple months before she warmed up to Simon. Loved playing with him when his daughter would invite for a tea time. Would always sit on the other side of him when watching movies. It was like she was a Riley.
Simon thought of the time when he was her age. The things his father would do to him. “Do you think he ever…”
“Let’s not think that,” He said quickly shaking his head. You nodded and sighed he knew you were worried about him too. The way you waited and watched him. “We have to get her out.” He said darkly, trying to pull himself together. “Now. Not tomorrow now. We get pictures we get everything that we need to take it to the police.”
“How? I just don’t know what to do for tomorrow. These things take time what if…” You started to say before trailing off.
“Laswell,” Simon said standing up quickly. “I’m calling Laswell.”
Two years, it had been two years since that incident happened. It took months before having your daughter have her best friend become her sister. However, papers took longer than expected but court said that both of you can take her in, unless things changed. It made both you and Simon nervous. “We will keep goin’ day by day until we find out yeah?” Simon said comforting you as you shared your thoughts of how long it was taking.
But today was different, giggling and happy screaming echoing through the house. It was Lilli’s birthday, friends of her came and your family. Balloons and decorations plastered the home. Presents lined up neatly on a table as everyone talked to one another. The kids playing with each other.
You watched as Lilli and Millie played together with their cousins. You smiled as you placed some plates down to some guests. You felt a hand gently grab your shoulder. “Do ya have a second.’” Simon asked as you connected eye contact. When you nodded yes, he said he would meet in your shared room. You walked yourself up as you waited. When you heard the door open Lilli and Millie were with Simon.
“Daddy I was havin’ fun.” Millie groaned as she came next to you.
Simon smiled as he looked at both Lilli and Millie. You noticed his eyes were red. You frowned as you thought of the worst. “I wan’ to do this privately. Mum doesn’ even know,” He grabbed an envelope on his dresser looking at you and handing it. “Read it love.”
You curiously grabbed the envelope and grabbed the paper inside. You gasped as you clasp your hand on your mouth looking at Simon whose lips trembled. “What’s wrong?” Lilli’s voice said quietly. “They said no huh.” Looking away and Millie grabbed your leg about to cry.
Your heart broke but soon swelled when Simon knelt down to her. Gently placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, with tears in her eyes. Simon’s heart raced in excitement. Love. Relief. He heard his voice crack as he tried to say something. Then inhaled deeply. “No Lills you are now Lilli Riley. You are our babygirl now. Ya staying here forever.”
Lilli gasped as she looked up at you then at Simon. “Really! Thank youtha kyouthankyou!” She started crying as she wiped her eyes constantly.
Simon chuckled and nodded as he cried with her rubbing her shoulder. Millie yelled in joy and ran to her. “Lilli! Lilli! We can have forever sleepovers!”
Lilli giggled as she hugged Millie jumping up and down with her. You looked down at Lilli’s birth certificate and adoption papers. Stating that indeed Lilli is now yours. You looked at Simon as he wiped his eyes before looking at you smiling. Before he said anything he was tackled by the girls, the three of them laughing as they hugged.
“Mum come on!” Millie yelled as Lilli came to grab your hand to lead you to both Simon and Millie.
You went on the ground as both you and Simon hugged the girls. Your girls.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty modern warfare#simon ‘ghost’ riley#call of duty#call of duty mw2#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost#simon ghost x reader#call of duty simon riley#call of duty simon ghost riley#simon x reader#simon “ghost” riley#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon riley x reader fluff#simon ghost riley x wife!reader
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! Luke Hughes falling for a girl in college who isn’t the stereotypical hockey girlfriend, (and all his friends and family are stunned at the fact he chose her).
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
When Luke had casually mentioned to his brothers over the phone that he had been talking to a girl from one of his classes, everybody already had an idea on what she would be like.
Brother confidentiality was thrown out the window in seconds and the Hughes family had been conspiring ever since. They took the crumbs Luke gave them over the weeks and they conjured up an image of you before they had even met you. But they knew Luke, they knew what his type was like, so they really hadn’t considered you being all that different from past girlfriends and flings.
It was around the summer break when Luke finally got to introduce you to his family.
The lakehouse was just going to be the Hughes family for two weeks before the others joined and, after a few months of being official, Luke wanted to share you with his family. And they seemed just as eager to meet the girl who captured the youngest Hughes’ heart.
To say they were shocked when they met you was an understatement. Not in a bad way, not at all. But simply for the fact you were nothing like they expected at all.
“So, honey, how did you two meet?” Ellen had asked during the first initial meeting, the whole family sat in the living room to officially meet you for the first time.
“Was it a hockey game?” Jack guessed, a teasing smile on his lips. “Luke always had a habit of trying to impress girls during games.”
“Oh, uh, I actually wasn’t a fan of hockey when we met,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “To be honest, it took Luke a month before he convinced me to come to a game. And even now, I’m not totally convinced I understand how it works.”
That was the first surprise.
The second happened mere hours later when you insisted on cooking dinner for the family. You wanted to thank them for their generosity of letting you stay, and you wanted to show them you weren’t just planning to stay around like a guest for the whole time—even if you technically were.
And it seemed like the longer you spent with the Hughes family, the more they were caught by surprise by the girl their son had brought home. But they loved it, they loved you and just how happy you made Luke.
“She’s a great girl,” Ellen said to her youngest son as they stood side by side in the kitchen, cutting up some fruit before they took it out to the patio where the rest of you were sitting.
Luke lifted his head to look out the window, a fond smile on his lips as he watched you animatedly talk away to his dad. He knew Jim had been eager to try and teach you the rules of hockey (something Luke had tried multiple times to do) and despite the fact he was sure you were still as clueless as you were before, he couldn’t help but feel something in his chest tighten at the fact you were trying so much with his family.
“Yeah, she’s amazing,” he murmured as a faint pink tint spread across his cheeks. “I think she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Ma.”
Ellen’s gaze softened. “You seem really happy with her.”
“It’s kinda nice knowing she likes me for me and not all the hockey stuff, ya know?” He said with a shrug. “She likes Luke, not ‘that other Hughes brother that wants to make it big’.”
Ellen smiled. “That’s what you deserve, honey.”
When they made their way outside, it seemed almost automatic for Luke to pull you off your seat, plopping down on the chair before bringing you down on his lap. You didn’t even stop your conversation with Jim, just briefly smiling down at the boy before you continued talking away to his father.
You weren’t what the Hughes family expected, but they cannot say they are anything but happy you were a part of Luke’s life.
.
#luke hughes#nhl#new jersey devils#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes fic#luke hughes one shot#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot
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The Worst
Toji x Reader | warnings: creampie, breeding, ermmm idk figure it out.
You wipe off all the snow that was on your coat before entering the cabin. It was Christmas eve and months ago you all (Gojo, Geto, Megumi, Nobara, Yuji, and Toji) decided to spend time together at Gojo's cabin.
"Hi." You smiled at everyone as you open the door, revealing Geto and Gojo attempting to make gingerbread houses. Nobara, Yuji and Megumi making hot chocolate. And finally Toji with of course...another women.
You roll your eyes and take off your coat. Gojo and Geto too focused on the gingerbread houses to even notice you, until Yuji yelled out "She's here!!" which caught the attention of everyone. Yuji pulled you into a big hug. Following Nobara and Megumi, and of course Suguru and Satoru. Toji sitting there watching you with his women wrapped around his arms.
You throw him a little awkward wave before walking into the kitchen with the kids. "He just met her yesterday, and he'll probably leave her tomorrow." Megumi whispered quietly as you got closer. You couldn't help but laugh at his comment.
"What took you so long to get here anyway?" Satoru says wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You could feel Toji burning your back with his gaze. "Work, they've been nonstop recently." You sigh taking the hot chocolate that Nobara passed to you. "I say you quit and become Satoru's trophy wife." she says making a heart sign with her hand at you and Satoru.
"Gross, not Sensei." Megumi says softly slapping Nobara's hand. "Let's not bring dating up actually, because someone looks a little..." Suguru says whispering to you and Satoru. You slightly turn to see Toji scrolling on his phone ignoring the women he brought. "Hey um Juliet..right?" Yuji asked.
She looked so happy that we even looked at her, You felt bad for her. She was young and Toji was manipulative. It was the worst combo. She had her life ahead of her. "Yeah!" she tries to get up but Toji grabs her arm "Sit." and so she does.
"Toji, let her go. She looks bored." You say walking towards them. He looks up at your face. He missed it, those doe eyes, those plump lips, they way your hair touched your face. He gets up not taking his eyes off yours "Go ahead then." He pushed passed you making his way out the front door.
"Thank you! I'm Juliet by the way...I haven't gotten your name yet..." She waited and looked at you for to respond. "Y/n.." you smiled and her eyebrows crashed. "Oh so you're the one Toji always talks about." you sighed.
"Let's go join the others...yeah?" You say changing the topic. She followed you with a small smile plastered on her face. She looked happy just to be here.
Time passed and Toji was still outside. You sigh a little worried. "I'm gonna go check on Toji." before you got up from the couch Juliet stops you. "I'll go with you."
"Juliet wait can you be my parnter for the game that we're playing?" Megumi says trying to stop her from going with you. He looked at her with those same manipulative pleading eyes his dad had. So how could she say no.
You walk towards Toji's Tacoma. It was black...the windows were very tinted but you knew he was in there. You knocked on the window and immediately the window opened. "What the hell do ya want now?" it smelled like cigarettes. "I was just checking in on you." you softly said still intimidated by just his presence. "Well here I am? So bye." You rolled your eyes and turned around walking away from his car.
"Actually y/n.." Your stop and turn around. "Go tell the others that we're gonna go buy booze, Satoru and Suguru have been begging me."
So here you are, sitting in his car while the music is blasting, of course Toji lets you put on your music. He secretly has the same playlist you do and plays it in the car only when your not around.
He stops at a rest area and shifts his gaze towards you before tunring the music down, "I miss you." You nod "No Toji you can't keep doing this." You look out the window trying to stop yourself from tearing up. "Doing exactly what?" He raises his voice.
"You fucking tell me you miss me and you treat me the same every time!" You look at him as the tears finally fell. His gaze soften. He sighs "I've fucking changed baby, I try to find you in everyone I meet." He wipes your tears and traces his thumb over your lips.
"Bringing another women to spite tonight was one way to fuck up already." You grab his hand not letting go. "So it worked?" He smirked. You rolled your eyes pushing his hand "I still fucking love you!"
"Come here." he pats his lap. "No." you say wiping your tears. "Take your coat off and c'mere." He was captivating, his dominance was something you definitely missed.
He grabs your waist gripping it tightly. "You have no idea how long i've been waiting to see you today." You just looked at Toji, not saying one word, until he started kissing your neck. "Is this what you want out of me?" He pulled away giving you the most offended look.
"Is that what you fucking think?" He lets go of your waist. "Toji I didn't mean it like that, it's just every time-"
"Get off me." He demanded.
He drove back to the cabin after grabbing the booze for Satoru and Suguru. The car ride was silent the whole time. Til you finally arrived, "Give this to them and get Juliet for me." You snatched the drink from him and slammed the car door.
Megumi and Yuji shared a room, while Nobara had her own. "Y/n we didn't know that you and Toji were gonna, well break up so you're gonna have to share." Gojo says a bit awkwardly.
"Hmm just sleep with Satoru, His bed is massive." Geto says before taking one big sip of the whiskey. "No. I'll just sleep in the living room, the couches are somewhat comfy."
All the lights were off, the only light was coming from the massive Christmas tree. You felt guilty for saying what you said to Toji, but it was partially true. You were anxious, how late it was getting and he hadn't arrived yet.
Just as if he heard your thoughts, you could see the headlights pulling up to the front of the Cabin. You quickly close your eyes as soon as you heard the front door opening. You could hear the rustling of him taking his coat and shoes off. Until it stopped, now all you heard were his steps getting closer and closer.
"Come on lets go to the room." He whispers as he slowly pats your shoulder. "Toj-" he huffed, "Y/n it wasn't a fucking question, cmon." You got up and followed behind him. The doors opened revealing the cozy room with presents all over the bed. "Toji...did you do all this?" you asked looking up at him as he loomed behind you now.
"Mhm" he takes off his shirt leaving him only in his grey sweatpants. You could sense that he was still mad. He pushed a couple presents and laid down on the bed. "My love, look I'm sorry at the unnecessary comment earlier. I was just mad..." You grab his face and make him look at you. "Open the gifts goddamnit."
You kiss him before sitting next to him on the bed. You wore the shortest booty shorts you could find paired with a grey tanks top. You notice Toji glaring at you, "You're really bugging me." He puts one of the decorative pillows on top of his lap.
You rolled your eyes and started opening the gifts, a bunch of different expensive perfumes, Lingerie and expensive jewelry. You move the pillow and stratal him. "I love all of this, but Toji I just really want you, I want to start over."
You could feel his rock hard dick under you. Just the feeling of him already had you soaking. "Then lets start over." He leans in and pecks your lips. You tired pulling away but his started kissing you more aggressively. The small grunts coming out of his mouth as he feels you slowly grinding on his clothed dick.
"Fuck" you pull away from the messy make out session and started removing your shirt. How Toji sat there admiring your breast. Taking one and massaging it as he sucks the other one. You lean you head back and soft moan. "Lay down." You hear Toji whisper. so you listen.
He slides off your panties, he slides down to meet your wet cunt thats been waiting to see him. "Sit on me." he looks up at you. "Toji, No I don't want to hur-" He scoffs "Look at you and look at me...sit on me."
"Fuck." You moan as his tongue constantly makes contact with the little pearl with his tongue. You grab a handful of his hair as you hear the loud slurping noise. You look down and you see how small you are compared to Toji. It turned you on, you loved how big Toji was. It made you feel comfortable and safe yet so scared.
"T-Toji f..fuck me already." You gasp and he fastened his tempo with his tongue. You couldn't help but squirm closing your legs tighter and tighter but you were scared you were gonna suffocate Toji.
"Fuck Toji m'done, i wan you inside me." So he stops and tosses you on your stomach. "I fucking miss this ass." He smacks your ass causing you to moan. He spreads open your wet pussy lips before sliding his sweats down revealing his lengthy fat veiny dick. You were looking back as he was getting ready to fuck you.
"m'gonna fuck you so hard." He whispers before thrusting hard into you. "Fucmm" You dig your head into the pillow as he thrusted in with no warning, its been a while, getting used to his dick. "I fucking needed you.." Toji threw his head back as he kept thrusting into you. He looked at you, how quiet and muffled your moans were. He slid a pillow under your stomach and grabbed your by the neck causing you to look up.
"T-Toji stahh.." you bit your lip as the pleasure kept going constantly. With every grunt you heard coming out of Toji, the faster he went. Slapping your ass occasionally. "f..fuck how about I fucking making your pregnant." He says as he feels himself getting ready to cum.
"Pleasmm Toji." You bite your lips. "I wan..it" you gasp. "M'yeah? You wan hold m'fucking kids?" His thrust getting harder and deeper, his tip constantly hitting the gushy spot in your pussy . "Mmhmm, yes i wan it." You moan.
"Fuck." he says letting his load spill inside your pussy. Finally puling out and dropping right next to you. "Fuck Toji." You try to catch your breath. "I've missed it, you, your scent. I missed all of it. I love you so fucking much. I don't ever want to let you go." You lazily smile at him "Cute...clean me up."
He laughs and gets up to grab a rag to clean you.
-
"The Christmas miracle was Toji and Y/n getting back together." Satoru says noticing how touchy Toji had been with you all morning. Nobara rolls her eyes, "Make her a trophy wife, or someone else will." Suguru butts in "I don't think that's gonna be a problem considering they plan on having a-" Toji smacks him on the head. "Shut up."
You embarrassingly walk away from them walking to the Kitchen where Megumi had been making himself a tea. "I'm glad you gave him another chance, the amount of times he would nonstop talk about you was getting annoying, no offense." You laughed, "What are you fucking saying little boy?" Megumi grabbed his mug, "Nothing, I made you a coffee already y/n its on the counter." You grabbed the coffee as Toji wrapped his big arms around your waist.
"He says that about me but he low key misses you too." He chuckles leaning in kissing you passionately. "Mm yeah? Well like father like son." you smile as he gives you that look that you loved, his sly smirk.
#fushiguro toji#jjk smut#jjk toji#jujutsu toji#toji x reader#toji x you#toji smut#fushiguro#smut#drabble
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The Younger Kind Part 5 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley continues to struggle through his dates when he knows you're at his house. When you meet Natasha, you get the wrong impression of her from the start. But after a night out at the bar with his best friend, Bradley makes a move.
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)
Length: 5400 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more!
When you arrived on Friday, Bradley was in the kitchen eating a bowl of the cereal and milk that you got for him, and Noah was playing with blocks in the hallway.
"Hi, Noah! You'll never guess what kind of coloring book I found this time."
"More dinosaurs?" he asked, handing you an orange block.
"Even better. Outer space," you told him, setting the block on the top of his tower.
Bradley was already smiling at you when you made your way into the kitchen. "That's for you. Your bonus," he said nodding toward a coffee cup with Bradley scrawled across it.
You gasped in mock surprise. "Do I wanna know what you had to do to get it?"
He shook his head solemnly between cereal bites. "I'm taking it to the grave."
Your laughter seemed to make his smile grow bigger. "Got it. I'll never bring it up again. Thank you." You took a sip and moaned softly; it was just that good. You might have to switch coffee shops.
Bradley grunted and set his bowl in the sink before slipping past you as he muttered something about needing to get changed. You watched him squat down and kiss Noah before stepping over the mess of blocks with his long legs and heading toward his bedroom.
You wondered if your paper crown was still in there.
"Are you hungry?" you asked Noah. "You want me to make you macaroni and cheese with a side of ants?"
"Yeah," Noah agreed, handing you some more blocks to play with first. You built three towers in a row with him before you set up the coloring books at the kitchen table so he could sit there while you made his dinner.
When you started playing some music on your phone, you selected that band that you knew Bradley liked, and sure enough when he emerged from his room, he was shaking his head at you.
"I still can't believe you know their songs," he said, finishing the buttons on his colorful shirt.
"I already told you, you're not that old." You were happy to see that he seemed to be more comfortable in his clothing now compared to the date where he wore the dress shirt. "Where are you going tonight?"
"Just dinner. Maybe a movie after that if things seem promising," he said, meeting your eyes.
"Any excuse for popcorn. Are you taking your pajamas with you?" you asked, but then you realized that implied there might be a sleepover. Your heart clenched in your chest. Oh God. One of these nights, there might be a sleepover involved. What would you do then?
Of course you wanted him to find someone he was compatible with so he could be happy, but when you really started to consider the implications, you felt a little queasy.
"I can't go to the movie theater without a shirt on, so I'll be leaving my pajama pants here."
"Good," you whispered, stirring the pasta in the boiling water, thinking about him in just a pair of low slung gray sweatpants.
"See you in a few hours." He kissed Noah, and then he was gone.
When you brought a bowl of mac and cheese over to Noah, he looked up and told you, "I like you. And Daddy said you're his favorite."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Well, I like you too, Noah. And don't tell anyone, but your Daddy is kinda my favorite, too."
----------------------------
Bradley finally figured it out; meeting new women over and over again was tedious. Almost none of them got his humor right off the bat, resulting in awkward laughter and a few strange looks.
"So what do you do for the Navy?" Carolyn asked him as she sipped her drink.
Bradley smiled and said, "Waste millions of dollars in taxpayer money annually. What do you do?"
She just looked at him blankly. When he told you essentially the same thing last week, you had immediately told him that Uncle Sam could suck it.
"Uh," Carolyn said with a forced laugh. "I do online data entry."
God, had there ever been a single profession that Bradley wanted to discuss less than that? Twenty more minutes of talking about essentially nothing, and then luckily dinner had arrived. There was no way a movie was getting tacked on to this date.
What the hell was wrong with him? All of these women had been attractive, seemingly normal, and smart. It must be Bradley. He must be the problem. He thought he knew now what it was, of course. Nat had even called him out on it: he kept thinking about you. How you looked like you fit in at his house. How you and Noah had already bonded. How you kept doing little things to take care of both of them, acting like it was no big deal.
It was a big deal. Bradley was eating hot food again at home. Spaghetti, fajitas, and eggs. Noah was eating healthy snacks, and you kept cleaning things up. He left two hundred dollars behind the TV this time and told you to spend it on anything you wanted.
And that was the other thing. For some reason, he trusted you. With Noah, with his money, and in his house.
Bradley took out his wallet to pay for dinner and checked the time on his phone. You had sent him a text a while ago.
Babysitter: Your son is going to be an architect.
Attached was a picture of Noah building an elaborate castle with his blocks, and your bare legs were stretched out alongside him. He couldn't look away. You had bright purple toenail polish, the same color as the fucking crown that was back on his bedpost. Your hand was in the picture too, and all he could imagine was how you used it to pop one colorful Skittle at a time between your glossy lips.
Bradley looked up at Carolyn before he signed the check. "Hey, this was fun, but I'm going to head home for the night." He watched her face fall, surprised that she might have actually been enjoying herself.
"Oh, okay."
Well, if this had been a good date for her, maybe Bradley really was a lost cause who was way too picky for his own good. Because it had been painful enough for him that he just wanted to be at home on his couch. And if you were there too, then all the better.
He tried not to think about you on the drive home, but as soon as he caught sight of your car, he couldn't stop himself. Your legs and your face and the way you talked to him. Fuck, he needed to get inside.
When Bradley noisily let himself in, you weren't on the couch. The disappointed feeling of not seeing you right away filled him up as his eyes settled on the paper crowns on the side table. "Hey, I'm home," he called out softly, and then you were poking your head into the living room.
"Hi," you whispered, heading toward him, and he had the urge to open up his arms for you. "Noah had a bad dream. I was just making sure he's okay."
Bradley ran his hand through his hair. "I'll go check on him," he mumbled, inhaling your wildflower scent as he passed you.
As he bent down to kiss his son, Bradley noticed his pinched face and restless movements. "It's okay, bub," he whispered, smoothing his fingers along the tiny cheeks and forehead. Noah took a deep breath in his sleep and rolled onto this side, and hopefully that was a good sign that he was going to fall into a deeper sleep.
Bradley walked down the hallway and glanced into his pristine kitchen before making his way back to the living room where you were stacking up your textbooks on the table. If you kept cleaning his house and cooking for him, he was going to have to pay you more. And not just in French vanilla coffee.
"You're home pretty early," you remarked, looking up at him over your shoulder. "No movie?"
"Nah," he said, wishing you'd stop packing up your tote bag.
You smirked. "And what exactly was wrong with this one?"
He chuckled and grinned at you. "Well, where do I begin? Her hair was like an inch longer than I can possibly tolerate. And her car was burgundy. I hate burgundy cars. And she doesn't like popcorn."
"Okay," you said with a laugh. "You're just making this shit up."
"I'm not!" he insisted while trying to fight his grin. "She ordered a salad with no dressing! That's not normal! And her nails were painted pink. So boring!"
You were laughing in earnest now. "I'll bet her entire house is beige!"
"Terrifying!" he gasped, gripping his heart. "You're heading out, Princess?"
He watched you carefully look at his empty hands and inspect him all over. "I don't see any wine or beer tonight. No more coffee cups either. Nothing to keep me here," you said with a shrug, but you were smiling.
"I could make some coffee. Or I have some of that beer left." He didn't know why it felt so important to keep you here longer, but he really wanted to take your bag out of your hand.
"No, that's okay. You still want me tomorrow night?" you asked, shrugging your tote bag onto your shoulder.
"Every night," he mumbled, and he watched your lips part slowly as his eyes went wide. "I mean, yeah, tomorrow night, yes. I do still need you tomorrow night."
"Right."
Your gaze dropped down to his lips, and Bradley was slowly moving before he could stop himself. At first you were frozen in place, and he knew he should be slamming on the brakes, but your tongue darted out to glide across your glossy lips.
Then you closed the distance between his body and yours with one decisive step, and Bradley was reaching for your pretty face. The skim of his thumb along your cheek as he grazed your neck with his fingertips had your eyes fluttering closed.
You were perfect. He wanted you. He considered the fact that if he let himself, he could grow to need you. As the tip of his nose brushed your face and his lips barely met yours, he heard Noah call out from his room. "Daddy!"
And with that one word, you were jerking out of his soft grasp like you had been burned.
"Noah needs you," you said quickly, hoisting your bag higher onto your shoulder as you looked at the couch.
"Yeah," Bradley whispered, wishing you would still meet his eyes.
But you turned toward the door and waved over your shoulder. "See you tomorrow at 6."
And you were gone. And Bradley was making his way into Noah's room. But Noah was already asleep again.
------------------------
Your heart was pounding as you drove home. You and Bradley had kissed. Just barely, but still. You moaned at the memory of his mustache brushing your upper lip. "Oh my God," you whispered, running your fingers along your lips. Your crush on him was hopeless. Ridiculous. But was it unrequited?
If his date hadn't gone well tonight, why did he need you there again tomorrow? He hadn't even taken that woman to the movie theater after dinner. Was he really going to take her out again?
What if... what if he wanted to hang out with you? He had mentioned making you some coffee or getting the beers out. You were an idiot. You could be sitting on his couch with him right now, sipping a microbrew IPA and sharing a bag of Skittles. He could be kissing you senseless into the couch cushions. You wouldn't have been stopping him.
"Shit," you gasped, almost turning your car around. But you were already turning onto your block, your little rental house coming into view.
What if. There were too many what ifs. You really liked Bradley. Noah was so sweet, you loved being around him. Their house already felt cozier than your rental. You whined helplessly as you parked and hauled your books inside.
You spent most of Saturday morning and afternoon blasting music and making snacks while you tried to study. Every time you thought about Bradley, you made yourself run up your stairs to your bedroom and back down, getting a really nice workout in.
When you checked the time on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor.
Bradley Bradshaw: I wish we hadn't been interrupted last night, Princess.
"Oh, fuck." The text was from nearly an hour ago. You scrambled with clumsy fingers to write back as quickly as you could.
Same. But I hope Noah was okay?
But he didn't write back. So you got yourself ready to go, taking extra care with your hair and makeup. And an hour later, you were on your way to his house with homemade snacks and so much hope in your heart. Maybe he wanted to spend the evening watching a movie with you and Noah.
But when you pulled up, there was an SUV in his driveway next to his Bronco, and you had to park on the street. You grabbed your bag that contained just one of your textbooks and a bunch of snacks and eyed the SUV warily as you opened the front door.
And there stood such a stunningly beautiful woman, you froze halfway through the door. She had dark hair and perfect skin, and her brown eyes were searching you like you were a science experiment or something to examine under a microscope. Just as a smile curled along her lips, you heard Bradley call from the kitchen. "Hey Nat, get in here and help me! You know I need you."
Your heart sank at the sound of his voice beckoning to her. And now she was smiling at you fully as you shut the door behind you and set your bag down.
"Nat!" Bradley called with laughter in his voice. "Don't make me come get you!"
But this woman was paying him no attention. Rather, she was making her way closer to you and holding out her hand. "Hi, I'm Natasha. You must be the babysitter," she said, a teasing, singsong tone to her voice. You instantly felt like this beautiful woman was making fun of you. Putting you in your place.
"Yeah. That's me," you said with as much courage as you could manage. Was this the woman Bradley went out with last night? Was this someone else he was seeing? Maybe a fling he was giving a second chance? God, they would look perfect together. You could honestly picture it.
"Well, I've heard a lot about you, sweetheart." Her eyes were positively twinkling with mirth at your expense now. "It's nice to meet you."
You were just about to ask exactly who she was and why she seemed to know so much about you, but then Bradley appeared in the living room. "Natasha!" his voice boomed, but then he paused when he saw you. "Oh, you're here." His voice softened considerably when he looked at you. He was wearing well worn jeans that clung to his perfect body and a plain, white undershirt. He was so sexy, you could barely think straight.
But why had he texted you that he wished you hadn't been interrupted by Noah if he had this other woman here now? You watched this Natasha walk past him, patting his flat belly as she went into the kitchen.
You felt like crying. You could feel your brow creasing as you tried to hold back the stinging sensation behind your eyes as Bradley made his way over to you.
"Princess." His voice was so soft and he was smirking down at you.
"Bradley?" But his name fell from your tongue like a question.
"Come on into the kitchen."
You didn't want to go into the kitchen. You wanted to leave. But he pressed his hand to the small of your back and guided you along.
"Who is that woman?" you blurted just before you reached the kitchen doorway.
You felt Bradley's huge hand grip you a little tighter as he laughed. "She's truly horrible, isn't she?"
"What?" you gasped as he guided you into the kitchen. Noah was sitting at the table, making a huge mess with cut up construction paper and a glue stick. And Natasha was fiddling around with Bradley's fancy coffee maker like she freaking lived here.
"It worked last time I tried to make a latte. What did you do to it?" she asked Bradley, bending over the counter and showcasing her perfect body.
You thought you might actually hate her.
"It was supposed to be her treat," Bradley said at the same time that Natasha finally got the machine to do what she wanted, because she stood up and clapped.
And then Noah spotted you and jumped out of the chair, wrapping his arms around your leg and saying he missed you, even though you'd seen him last night. You almost dropped your tote bag on the floor in all the commotion and emotions, but Bradley caught it and set it on one of the chairs.
"I was trying to make you a vanilla latte, but I needed Nat to figure it out. Always saving the day, huh?" Bradley said, sharing a high five with Natasha.
"You're terrible at everything," she told him. "I can't believe they let you fly a Super Hornet."
"I can't believe I've been putting up with you for nearly fifteen years," Bradley told her, running his fingers along your back briefly before he handed you the latte when it finished brewing in a mug that said Noah's Dad.
You held onto it with both hands and whispered, "Thank you." Then you watched Natasha clean up some of Noah's construction paper mess and pat him on the head.
"Aunt Natasha promises to take you for ice cream next week if you're really good for you dad and your babysitter. Sounds fun, kiddo?" Noah lit up at her words.
"You ready to go?" Bradley asked Natasha, and she just nodded and said she would meet him outside.
"See you around," she told you with a wink.
You just nodded like an idiot and tried to sip the blazing hot latte. Then you looked up at Bradley's handsome face.
"I might be kind of late tonight. I'll be at Nat's mercy for a ride home."
"Oh," you whispered. "Okay."
But now he was looking at you like he had been last night, as if he wanted to stay here with you instead of going out.
He sighed deeply. "She's kind of making me go out and socialize with our friends. I guess that's what best friends are good for? Making sure you don't fall off the grid?"
Your heart perked up immediately. "She's your best friend?" you asked softly. He had told you his best friend was a woman. She referred to herself as Noah's aunt. She must be the one who had installed the dating app on his phone. She's the reason you met Bradley in the first place.
"Yeah," he said with a laugh. "And unfortunately I think it's too late to try to trade her for a better one."
You took a sip of the latte. Suddenly it wasn't too hot. It was perfect. Bradley was perfect, and so was Noah. Even Natasha was truly a delight. You couldn't wait to see her again.
"Bye, bub," Bradley said, accepting a kiss on his cheek from Noah who was now holding approximately nine colored pencils in each hand. "See you later," he told you with a soft smile, brushing past you on his way out of the kitchen.
"It's a beautiful day, Noah. Let's go for a hike."
------------------------------
Bradley was five beers deep at the Hard Deck when Jake handed him a sixth. "Thanks," he mumbled, kind of hating that Hangman was being nice to him. He wasn't used to this. But Nat must have been telling Bradley the truth when she said everyone missed him. Even Penny had paused for a minute to ask him how he was, and also to make sure things were going well with you babysitting Noah.
"Tell me, Rooster," Jake drawled, "how is your foray into online dating treating you?"
Bradley glared at Nat. "Have you told everyone about the dating app?"
"Not everyone. Javy doesn't know," she replied.
"What don't I know?" Coyote asked her as he paused on his way to the pool table.
"That Rooster is on a dating app. Oops," Nat said with a grin toward Bradley. "Now everyone knows."
He just shook his head and tried to search out someone else to talk to while he sipped his beer. But Penny was slammed at the bar, and Bradley didn't want to chat up any of the women here. He wanted to chat with you. He wanted a second chance at kissing you, too.
It was late, and Noah would have to be in bed by now. He wondered if you were curled up at the end of his couch reading one of your textbooks. He could picture you placing a single Skittle in your mouth, watching it drag across your bottom lip. He wanted to taste it in your mouth.
"Fuck," he mumbled. He wished he had an excuse to text you. Without giving it too much thought, Bradley took a selfie of him with Nat and Jake. He looked okay in it, so he sent it to you.
"Who are you texting that to?" Jake asked.
"Nobody," Bradley replied, and after another sip of his beer, he had a text back from you.
Babysitter: Who's that other guy?
Bradley's shoulders slumped. He should have known better. All women loved Jake.
His name is Jake. But trust me, Princess, he wouldn't be good for you.
Bradley realized too late that Nat was reading over his shoulder. "Oh my goodness, she's asking about Jake. Poor Bradley," she said, teasingly.
"Who's asking about me?" Jake drawled.
"Nobody," Bradley said at the same time Nat said, "The babysitter."
Bradley really didn't need that last beer. He was pretty drunk now, and quite frankly his friends were pissing him off.
"What's she look like?" Jake asked. "And if she's cute, my next question is going to be is she over eighteen?"
Bradley rolled his eyes at Jake. "She wouldn't like you. She's smart."
Jake just laughed. "Oh, Rooster. All women like me." Bradley hated that grin.
"Rooster has a photo of her saved on his phone," Nat sang, and Bradley wished he could tape her mouth shut.
"Show me," Jake said, and Bradley felt cornered. He pulled up that photo of you in the crown that he already loved so much and held it up for Jake and Nat to look at.
Nat was smirking, but Jake looked like someone had placed a juicy steak in front of him.
"Holy shit. So how old is she exactly?" he asked, trying to take Bradley's phone. But luckily he wasn't too drunk to pull it away in time.
"It doesn't matter," Bradley told him, trying to find a way to change the subject.
"What the fuck are you doing on a dating app when that's waiting at your house? I would be tapping that nonstop," Jake said, shaking his head at Bradley. "In fact, tell her your good buddy Jake is on his way over. Tell her I want her number."
"Absolutely not," Bradley growled. And then there was another text from you.
Babysitter: He's kind of cute. For a blond.
Bradley sighed and shook his head. He would not allow this to happen.
I can assure you he is not. He has a burgundy car, Princess. And his entire condo is beige. And he hates salad dressing.
Bradley's heart was pounding, and his head was starting to swim. He never drank this much anymore since he had to be attentive to Noah all day long. He was really regretting that last beer when you texted him a photo. Bradley's breath caught in his throat as he looked at a selfie of you laying on his living room area rug and laughing. You looked so young and sweet and perfect.
Babysitter: Nevermind. He doesn't sound like my type at all.
"Atta girl," Bradley said to nobody in particular. Everyone had wandered away from him at this point as he typed out a response.
He's definitely not your type.
Babysitter: You think you know my type?
He watched as Nat paid the tab and waved him toward the door.
I hope so, Princess. I'm on my way home. We can talk about it then.
-----------------------
Okay. These texts were getting a little flirty. That Jake guy was cute, but Bradley was definitely more attractive. Jake looked like an older version of Greyson, like the kind of guy you would usually go for: clean cut with an attitude.
But Bradley. Well. He was definitely something different. He was older, sexier, and you were pretty sure he'd never give you an attitude. Unless you wanted him to.
And now you were rolling around on his living room carpet, biting your lip to keep from screaming. Then you heard someone pull into his driveway, and you rocketed to your feet.
When you peeked out the window, you saw Bradley being led up the sidewalk by Natasha, which was hilarious, because he was roughly twice her size.
"Bradley," she said, pausing to scold him. "You need to stop laughing and focus on walking."
"I'm fine, Nat," he said, chuckling.
"You did not need that last beer, did you?" she asked, fumbling to get his keys from him. You could have opened the door for them, but you were frozen, looking at the way his face was bathed in moonlight.
"Nat, she's inside," he mumbled.
"Yeah, she is. And you better be sweet so she doesn't ask for Jake's number."
"Fuck Jake," Bradley grumbled, and you covered your mouth to keep from laughing as Nat opened the door.
"Hi," you said, greeting both of them with a smile.
"Hey, Princess," Bradley said, a crooked grin on his lips.
Nat shoved him into the house. "Want me to help you get to bed?" she asked, but you held your hand up as Bradley inched closer to you.
"It's okay. I can stay and make sure he gets there."
"Excellent," Nat said with a grin that reminded you of the Cheshire cat. "He's all yours, babe."
And then she was gone, and you had Bradley towering over you, looking at you like he wanted to touch you.
"Did you have fun?" you asked softly.
He nodded at you, his eyes half lidded as he chuckled. "Yeah. Was Noah good?"
"An angel," you promised, taking him by the hand. "Let's get you to bed, Bradley." Your heart pounded as you tried to pull him to his bedroom, but he wasn't budging. His hand was huge and warm, and he used it to pull you a little closer.
"Do you like Jake? You think he's cute. He said he wanted your number, and it pissed me off."
You looked up at him wide eyed. He must have had a lot to drink since he was rambling a bit. "It pissed you off that I think he's cute? Or that he wanted my number?"
Bradley scoffed and pulled you against him. "Both. He's not good enough for you."
"Oh," you gasped, running your palms along his torso where you were suddenly touching him. He was so solid. Substantial. You wondered if he had started to regret that almost kiss last night. You wanted to know what he was thinking about you. "Bradley?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't like Jake. He looks like Greyson, my ex boyfriend."
He just shook his head a few times, running his big palm along your back again. You could feel yourself melting into him. "You can do better than either of them. You're so pretty."
"Bradley," you whispered as your entire body clenched in need. You couldn't remember ever feeling like this before.
"You are," he told you, his brown eyes so steady and honest. "You're so funny and smart and pretty." And now he was looking at your lips.
"Of course. I'm a princess," you told him with a small smile. And then his lips were on yours. His mouth was warm, and he tasted like beer. But you liked it. You really liked it when both of his hands wrapped around your waist, dragging your shirt up a little bit in the process.
Your lips parted on a gasp as his fingers grazed the bare skin below your ribs. And then he was tasting you, groaning softly as your tongue met his. He was surprisingly soft and sweet, never demanding more than you were giving. Every experimental nibble on his lips led to him reciprocating the actions, making you a little crazier for him.
When you ran your fingers up along his neck and his cheek, he groaned, "Princess," against your lips. You pushed your fingers into his hair, tugging a bit, and then he was backing you up against the TV stand.
"Bradley," you whined when his lips found your neck. "Oh, God. You're drunk."
"Not that drunk," he mumbled against your skin, his breath hot, his lips dragging against your earlobe.
You did not want him to stop. That was literally the last thing on your mind right now. But you'd die next time you saw him if he said he regretted this.
"Bradley," you said a little louder, planting both palms against his chest and pushing him firmly away.
He released you completely and just stood there looking at you like he couldn't figure out what was going on.
"You're drunk, Bradley," you said softly. "Oh, God, I'm sorry I didn't stop you sooner." You took a few steps away from him, and he followed you like a puppy with sad eyes.
"I wanted that. Since last night. Since last week."
You just shook your head. "But you're drunk. You're the epitome of an unreliable narrator."
He just looked at you like he couldn't get enough and laughed. "How are you so funny?" he asked softly, brushing his fingers along your cheek. You were terrified that you'd follow him to his bedroom if he asked, but he wasn't in the right mind to be voicing any sorts of opinions concerning you or your lips or how funny he found you.
"Just, go sit on the couch, okay?" you instructed, guiding him that way with a hand on his massive bicep. He dropped down onto the couch, all rosy cheeks and long, splayed legs, looking up at you like he expected you to join him. "I'll get you some water."
You dashed into the kitchen without another thought, gripping the edge of the hard granite counter with your shaky fingers.
You wanted him. You wanted Bradley. And he was on a quest to find the right woman while you were simply here to watch Noah for him. You needed to get a grip on things. You needed to straighten this out.
After a few deep breaths, you filled a cup with cold water and reached down the bottle of Advil you noticed on the top self next to the mugs. If Bradley was able to hold a conversation when you went back into the living room, you'd try to get him to explain what was going on. You squared your shoulders, but when you saw him, he was sprawled across the entire couch, sound asleep.
With a deep sigh, you set the water and the Advil on the small table next to him. You watched his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, his face calm and smooth. His lips were parted slightly, and you could see the perfect white of his teeth. Gently, you pushed his wavy hair back from his forehead, letting your fingers linger in the soft strands.
He might not even remember kissing you tomorrow.
You took a sheet of paper and a pen out of your bag and left him a note next to his water. Then you checked that the back door was locked before giving Noah a kiss on his forehead. And with one last look at Bradley dozing peacefully, you left, locking his front door behind you.
-------------------------------
Wow, Bradley. Do it when you're sober, bro. I hope you enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 6
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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster fanfic#rooster x female reader#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw x female reader#bradley rooster x reader#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun imagine
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runaway baby | charles leclerc
this is the second time I’m writing this because my wifi turned off and i forgot to save and all my work was deleted and i almost cried but here it is :) requests open for the baby leclerc series!!
part 2 to baby on the loose is here :)
“Carmen! George! Have you seen Ruby? She wandered off a minute ago.”
George shook his head. “No, I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. I’ll keep an eye out.”
Carmen too her phone out and texted Lily to look for Ruby. “I just told Lily about Ruby. We’ll help look around.”
“Thanks. Let me know if you find her.” Y/N sighed and walked in the direction of the Aston Martin garage.
“Ruby! Your favorite uncle wants to see you!” George yelled, ignoring the stares he got from people passing by.
“Love, I think we all know that Ruby’s favorite uncle is Pierre.” Carmen told him.
“I know but if Ruby hears me saying that then she might come out and correct me.”
Once Y/N made it to the Aston Martin garage, she asked around for Ruby but everyone said the same thing. They hadn’t seen her.
“Y/N, hey, how are you?” Y/N heard Sebastian greet her when he entered the garage.
“I could be better. Ruby ran off and I can’t find her.” Y/N said.
Sebastian could see that at any second, Y/N was going to burst out into tears so he brought the mom in for a much needed hug. Y/N was forever grateful for a friend like Sebastian. She wasn’t ready to see him leave, but he deserved a good retirement.
“Does Charles know?”
“I was so focused on finding Ruby that I haven’t told Charles yet. He’s going to think I’m such a bad mother.” Y/N wiped away a tear that slipped out.
“Stuff like this happens to even the most careful parents. Don’t worry, we are going to find her. I’ll call Britta to start looking for her. Come on, let’s go find Charles.”
Sebastian and Y/an headed to the Ferrari garage and soon spotted Charles talking with Carlos,
“Charles!” Y/N yelled at her husband, grabbing his attention.
“Oh, someone’s in trouble. What did you do?” Carlos teased, completely unaware of the situation.
“What’s wrong? Where’s Ruby?” Charles asked once he noticed that Ruby wasn’t around.
“After you left Ruby ran off. I can’t find her.” Y/N admitted.
“Oh. Then forget what I said I’m sorry.” Carlos awkwardly apologized.
“It’s okay Carlos, you didn’t know.” Y/N sighed. “Carmen, George and Lily are looking for her.”
“Britta is looking for her as well. I’ll go see if anybody else has seen her. We will find her, don’t worry.” Sebastian assured the couple as he exited the garage and quickly walked to the next one in search of the little girl.
“I just took my eyes off of her for a second and then she was gone. It happened so fast.” Y/N leaned on her husband for support. She felt like her knees were going to give out. All she wanted was her daughter back.
Charles led her to a nearby chair, whispering soothing words to her. He then grabbed his unopened water bottle and gave it to her.
“Stay here, I’ll go look for her. If you need anything, let the team know.” Charles placed a kiss on her lips then walked back to where he was previously with Carlos.
“Alright, I think we should start in the Alpha Tauri garage, she might’ve spotted Pierre or something.” Charles instructed.
“So it is true?”
“Yeah, Pierre is her favorite. Don’t tell anyone, especially Arthur.” Charles confirmed.
“I believe I caught one of your tiny spies in my garage, Leclerc.” Charles heard Christian Horner’s voice say as he made his way into the Ferrari garage. Charles instantly smiled at the sight of his little girl safe.
“He gave me ice cream!” Ruby said holding up the ice cream cone.
After thanking Christian for bringing his daughter back safe, Carlos, Charles and Ruby walked to where Y/N. She was looking down at her phone when she heard her daughter’s voice call her.
“Maman!” Ruby ran to her mom after shoving her half melted ice cream cone in her dad’s hands.
“My girl, you scared me today. That’s not a nice things to do, Ruby Jules. Papa told you to stay with me and you didn’t.” Y/N brought the girl into her arms and held her as if it was the last time.
“I’m sorry, mama. I wanted to see Uncle Pierre and then I saw Uncle Danny but he didn’t see me. And then P and I got ice cream with her maman.” Ruby told Y/N about her whole paddock adventure.
“I see you finally met P and Kelly. But that still wasn’t a nice thing to do, baby. You should’ve told me that you wanted to see Uncle Pierre and we could’ve gone together.” Y/N explained to the little girl.
“Sorry, maman. I won’t do it again.” Ruby kissed her mother’s cheek.
“You know Uncle George, Auntie Carmen and Lily are still looking for you.” Y/N told Ruby as she put her daughter on the ground.
“And Uncle Sebastian and his friend, Britta. Now, I’m going to go tell them that you’re with your mama, but you have to promise me that you’re not going to run off again. I’m seriously, Ruby. Stay with maman.” Charles crouched down to Ruby’s level.
“I promise.” Ruby nodded.
“Remember, you’re a spy. You’re undercover so the bad guys don’t hurt maman. You’re going to protect maman, right?” Charles asked, bringing his daughter in for a hug.
“I’m a spy.” Ruby said confidently.
“Okay, miss Ruby, your dad and I have to go. Give us some good luck.” Carlos held up his hand for Ruby to high five, which she did. “Oh! You’re a strong girl! I love you, cariño.” Carlos hugged Ruby one last time before he left the family have their moment.
“Give papa a kiss, Ruby.” Y/N said as Ruby wasted no time in throwing herself on Charles and giving him a kiss on her cheek.
“I love you, Ruby Jules.” Charles whispered to his daughter.
“I love you too . . Perceval.” Ruby teased.
“Alright, no more hanging out with Uncle Carlos.” Charles joked. “I’ll see you after the race. Remember, protect maman.”
“I will, papa. I’m a spy.” Ruby whispered and giggled.
“What’s all this spy talk? What am I missing?” Y/N laughed.
“Maman, I’m a spy. I have to protect you from the bad guys.” Ruby said casually so Y/N looked at her husband for an explanation.
“Horner called her a spy after he found her in the Red Bull garage.”
That explains it.
“Okay, I have to leave. I love you both.” Charles lowered Ruby down and placed one last kiss on her cheek. He then walked over to his wife and kissed her on the lips.
“Cooties!”
“I bet Lando taught her that.” Y/N laughed once she pulled away from Charles.
Soon, the race started. Y/N and Ruby were seated in the Ferrari garage watching Charles and cheering for him. By the end of the 58 laps, Charles had successfully ended the race in p1.
“Papa won!” Ruby cheered as the Ferrari team around her celebrated the victory.
“He did!” Y/N hugged the little girl.
When Charle’s name was announced, the first thing he did was try to find his family in the large group of people. Then he spotted them. Y/N was next to Kelly, each with their own daughter in their arms. They were distanced from the big crowd, but Charles was still able to find them.
Y/N pointed at Charles. “Look, papa is waving at you.”
“Papa!” Ruby yelled, waving her arms in the air.
Charles laughed and blew a kiss to his girls. As he took his place on the podium, the Monaco national anthem started to play. Ruby loved it so much that she started to sway in her mom’s arms and dramatically tried to sing along despite the anthem not having any words.
Charles could not contain his laughter. Even Max noticed Ruby’s passion for the national anthem and laughed as well.
After receiving the large champagne bottle, Charles and Max began to spray each other with it. All Ruby could think of was how fun that looked.
“Mama, can P and I do that with daddy and uncle Max?”
“Ask your papa.”
#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x you#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#cl16 x reader#baby leclerc series
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Doppelgänger
Miguel x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Angst, self-image issues, mentions of childhood trauma, addiction, our mans has had it rough as fuck™
A/N: Brought on by this post from @tarjapearce and the comments i made (I'm sorry i am a ho for some angst sometimes) I'm merging ATSV stuff with comic stuffs because NO WAY IS HIS MOVIE DESIGN LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE WITHOUT IT POSSIBLY COMING UP IN FUTURE MOVIES ASDFGHJKL
Taglist: @tojishugetiddies
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You came home and it was quiet. Quiet and dark; and already you knew something was up. You left Miguel sleeping so you could attend to some meetings and paperwork at your office, and pick up a few groceries.
Miguel had been acting strange the past few days. You'd asked him if it had something to do with work and he simply shrugged the question aside, like it was a small chip on one of his broad shoulders.
You'd asked him what was bothering him again, and he simply stared at the carpet, muttering something you didn't quite catch, and he went straight to bed.
You were so worried you'd even texted Gabriel on your walk home:
Hey, Gabe...
Heyyyy! If it ain't my favorite brother's girlfriend!
You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a soft snort. You only have one brother, Gabe.
No no, chica, I meant that you're my favorite of any girlfriends he's ever had. 😂
Gabe that sounds a little... Bad. 😬
Does it? Woops! Anyways, what's up? My big dumb, brick-house brother do something to make you mad?
No, Gabe... He's acting weird. Has been for the past few days, and he won't open up to me. I'm worried.
You could see the chat bubble pop up over and over again with '...' signifying that he was in the process of texting. With how many times it popped up and went away you were expecting a bible scripture's length of a text wall.
But what you got instead made your heart sink.
He saw our mom. She... She brought up Tyler.
Oh, god. You knew that Miguel and Conchata had a rocky relationship. Miguel had told you why. It was so bad, even just recalling everything, that you felt Miguel's pain like it was your own.
You also knew that Miguel's biological father, Tyler Stone, was the one that manipulated him, that used him, got him addicted to Rapture and almost killed him...
But it wasn't even the real dose of Rapture. It was simulated. Just another manipulation tactic. It was overhearing that conversation that Miguel found out the truth of his heritage, and you could tell that nugget of knowledge permanently chipped his sense of identity.
Even moreso when he confessed to you about Gabriela--
Your phone pinged.
They fought. It was... It was ugly. I... I didn't know about Tyler. God, chica, I didn't know. Dad was...
You felt your heart flop, knowing poor Gabriel was shielded by Miguel for so long so he didn't have to suffer like he did at the hands of their gaslighting and manipulative mother, his sadistic sperm donor... Miguel wanted nothing more than to protect Gabriel from that pain.
Your fingers flew fast on the little keyboard, a few spelling errors here and there;
God, Gabri im sory you had to fidn out that way
I know. It figures Miguel would have told you, before me, tho. He loves you.
He loves you too, Gabri. God, more than you know. He loves you.
I know. He was trying to keep me safe and out of Mom's drama.
No offense, Gabri, but if I ever see that woman I'm rearranging her face with a shovel.
OMG. I mean... After the things she said to Miggy, I... Kind of want her to at least feel consequences of her actions, y'know?
Oh, she will. Don't worry. Thanks for telling me this, Gabri.
Go cuddle my big brother and tell him I love him, k? Let me know how he's doing.
OMW home now, I'll text you when he's feeling better.
KK, see ya.
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Yeah. You knew for sure Miguel was still heartbroken when you came home after that.
You put the groceries away, a somber expression on your face as a million thoughts went through your head.
God, of course Conchata had to come see Gabriel at the same time Miguel was there. You wouldn't be surprised if either she could have tabs kept on him, just to... to try and lord her power over him somehow, like he was still that scared little boy, holding onto his baby brother, being his shield and buffer from their parents' fights.
That bitch had to have had a hand in Tyler using him the way that he did, that she had to have known about--
Your mind was knocked away from those dark thoughts when you heard glass shatter.
You dropped the bag of apples onto the ground, the fruits tumbling out and rolling across the floor as you made a mad dash to your bedroom.
Noting Miguel wasn't in there, you turned to the adjoining bathroom door, seeing faint light come down from below, small wafts of steam rolling out.
"Miguel?" You frantically called out, knocking on the door and leaning your ear against the smooth metal.
You could hear shuffling and the tinkling of glass shards, as well as the shower running; but no verbal reply.
You knocked on the door again, hurried and a little too hard, your fingers hovering over the control panel.
Before you could push a button, the door slid open.
Miguel was in nothing but a pair of boxers, leaning over your bathroom sink, his hands gripping the marble countertops, threatening to crack the material. Beads of water rolled down his muscular, tanned skin; droplets of water dripped from the ends of his thick, wavy chocolate locks, the natural curls more apparent thanks to the water.
That's when you noticed it. Your bathroom mirror, shattered into a hundred pieces, scattering the counter, floor, and in the sink.
Bright, scarlet droplets were on the floor, steadily building into small puddle from his right hand, his knuckles split, shards of the reflective material sticking out of it.
"I'll pay for it." His voice croaked out, unable to lift his eyes to meet your horrified gaze. "I just--"
"Oh, god! Miggy!" You breathed, reaching out, taking a step towards him, only to wince and hiss when the pieces of broken mirror stabbed the soft, delicate soles of your feet.
You gritted your teeth as the glass crunched, but you grabbed Miguel.
Instantly it was like a switch flipped inside of him, Miguel's head snapped up and he looked down at you, seeing the bloody footprints you now left on your tile.
He looked terrified at what he was seeing. How you just ignored the shards in your body in favor of frantically digging around one of the cabinets for your first aid kit.
"Bebita... I..." Miguel choked out.
When you found it, you killed the shower and stepped into the glass once again, pulling him into your room, and onto your bed, your feet leaving bloody prints as you walked, like macabre rose petals being left in your wake. Miguel had a large enough stride that he was careful to avoid getting any in his feet, but the smell of your blood permeated the air, it made him sick to his stomach. Not with disgust.
With guilt.
Of course, you checked him over first, plucking out the shards of glass from his knuckles and cleaning the cuts out with wound wash, ignoring the blood welling up onto the tile floor of your bedroom from.
You carefully roll his hand as you try to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Miggy, can you hold your--"
"I'm sorry." He interrupts.
You looked up at him, and only then do you see his face. Framed in his wet curls, his face was shadowed and haunted, his eyes dark and as tumultuous in a maelstrom of anxiety and fear.
You bring your hand to his cheek, caressing one of his sharp cheekbones with your thumb. "Baby, it's okay. It's just a mirror, I can--"
He shook his head, as if your touch to his face burned him like a hot iron.
He leaned over, grabbing your legs and pulling your feet into his lap so he can assess the damage, and return the favor of cleaning and dressing them.
"You're hurt because of me." He whispered sadly, dabbing the blood away.
"I'm hurt because of the glass, honey." You tell him gently, letting him apply the "honey" to the cuts in your feet, sealing them.
His massive hands encapsulated your ankles, his thumbs rubbing small circles as the rough pads caressed your skin. Like you were made of the delicate gossamer of a butterfly's wing.
He sits like that, not meeting your eyes. And god, did that hurt you so badly. You knew how important eye contact was with Miguel, he almost always went out of his way to keep eye contact when he was conversing with someone. Having him avoid your eyes... hurt.
Because you knew he was hurting.
"Miggy." You breathed. "Talk to me."
You move your feet from his lap and scoot closer to him, moving your face until he locked eyes with you again, and you could see the pain and the tears fill his own as he looked at you; his full, pouty lips trembling in an effort to hold his emotions at bay.
His shoulders dropped low, and Miguel leans forward until he was practically bent in half, clinging to you, burying his face in your chest as he fisted your shirt in his hands.
You rubbed his shoulder with one hand, biting your lip as he softly cried into your blouse, your other hand combing through his messy wet hair.
You stayed like that, for what felt like hours. You weren't sure how long it was exactly, with the blackout curtains drawn and the lights off. The only light that dimly illuminated the room was from your bathroom, and the open door.
He finally calmed enough to speak, to explain why he shattered the mirror.
"...I look like him." Miguel said, his heart in his voice, his soul stripped down and naked with raw pain.
"Mig--"
"God, I look like him. That... that cabrón." He hissed, tugging your shirt in his fists.
"I look like that bastard that... that made me into this." The self-contempt in his voice broke your heart.
You kiss the top of his head, murmuring against him. "No, you don't, baby."
"Yes, I do!" He snapped, pulling himself away from you and throwing himself to his feet. He paced like an angry tiger in a cage, waiting to swat at whatever keeper dared enter his enclosure. He didn't notice that he was stepping into the sticky, dried blood trails you left.
"I have his--his face. His fucking face--" He said, gripping his hair in his hands, tugging as he started to hyperventilate. "My fucking nose, my fucking cheeks, my fucking lips--they're all him! I'm not allowed to be me, every time I look in the mirror I see him! I can't ever get away from him! He's a part of me, he always will be! I fucking look like him!"
You get to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your soles as you dared to reach out, to touch the pacing tiger.
Your hands smooth up his back, gently, softly; then back down until they wrapped around his mid-section.
You feel him, how tense he is, how his muscles flex at your touch almost like he's bracing himself for some kind of blow that simply will never come from you.
You rest your cheek against his back, feeling how hot his skin was burning.
"Baby. You don't look like him. You aren't him, and you never will be." You whisper.
You plant kisses wherever you could reach, not letting him go, feeling his body shake with each shuddering breath as your soft lips made contact.
"More importantly, Tyler will never be you."
"I--"
You cut him off. "Listen to me... Did Tyler figure out multi-dimensional travel, build a strike force of super-powered people from across the multiverse? Does Tyler, almost every day, work to keep dozens--no, hundreds--of universes safe from monsters?"
He didn't answer.
"And did Tyler Stone protect your baby brother from your mother all these years?"
No answer.
"You are Miguel-goddamn-O'Hara." You tell him. "I love you, with trauma, quirks and all. I love your little scritch-scratches you make, the way your bottom lip pokes out when you pout, your crooked teeth when you smile. I love your ridiculously large body, I love how you hug me. I love the little snores you make when you fall asleep at your desk, how you crinkle your nose when you're about to sneeze.."
You feel his hands slowly rise to touch your arms where they're almost-locked around his larger frame.
"I love how sweet and gentle you are. I love hearing you curse to yourself when you shock yourself with your soldering gun... I love listening to you bicker with Lyla, or complain about one of the other Spiders bugging you." You place more kisses after each sentence; hoping each one plants a seed of love beneath his skin, to bloom into a garden that he can admire and love, not hate for the very skin he was born with out of illegitimacy and infidelity.
"Tyler Stone is not you. He never will be. He will never be as good as you." You sigh against his skin, feeling the goosebumps form in the cold of your room, now that the adrenaline of his anxiety was beginning to fade, and his body became aware of the water that was slowly drying and cooling his skin.
"I love you, Miguel O'Hara. You and no-one else. Don't ever think for a second that you don't have your own identity because of your genes."
He slowly turns in your grasp, looking down at you with raw, unclothed emotion as his hand touches your cheek.
"You're more than that. You're you, and I wouldn't have you any other way." You say, your tone set and jaw tight; every word you spoke carrying a hefty weight of seriousness and honesty.
He smiles, almost sadly as you feel the rough pads of his thumb against your cheek, the little talon there poking you but not breaking the skin.
"...I..." He said, his voice stiff as he swallows the lump in his throat.
"I really will pay for your mirror, you know."
You grin up at him and turn your face so you can kiss the palm of his hand.
"I know you will, Miggy."
"But I am curious... I felt like you were going to keep going with the affirmations." He said, raising an eyebrow slowly.
"Well, the last one..."
"The last one?" Miguel tilted his head down at you quizzically.
You grin at him again, your teeth showing and eyes creasing as you barely manage to reach around him, swatting his ass playfully.
"I also love the fact you have the nicest ass I've ever seen on a man."
He couldn't contain the snort that came out of him, and he reached up to cover his whole face with his other hand.
"Mierda..."
You giggle as you step around him, giving a playful swat to his ass once again as you walk by.
"C'mon, Miguel O'Hara. You got a broken mirror to clean up."
His shoulders lifted as he watched you, his eyes softer than you've ever seen as he smiled.
Yeah. You were right.
He was Miguel O'Hara.
And he was certainly going to pay you back for the smacks to his ass.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse
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COOK OUT - c. sturniolo
chris x black !fem reader
in which chris is invited to the reader’s yearly family cook out
warnings: none, just fluff
-
“okay, how do i look?” your focus shifted from your phone, to your boyfriend standing in front of you. he did a little spin to show off his outfit which made you laugh.
“babe you look fine, i told you this like five times now.” you sighed before getting up from the couch, while adjusting your dress.
“i know…i just,” chris sighed before continuing. “i just want everyone to like me.”
you frowned as you saw how anxious your boyfriend seemed. you cupped his face with both of your hands before smushing them together, eliciting a smile from the brunette.
“they’ll love you babe, now lets go.”
-
as you chris drew nearer to the entrance to the backyard, the music got louder, and chris’ nerves seemed to increase as well.
you took his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers. “we can always go home, i’ll say you’re sick or something.” you say worried your boyfriend will be uncomfortable but chris quickly shook his head to the idea.
“no baby, i want to meet everyone, and i want to see you around the people that make you happy.” you softly smiled, before leaning up to give chris a big ol smooch on the cheek. he knew how family oriented you could be, and how these barbecues were a chance to bring everyone you loved together.
you two made your way through the gate of your parents house. you began to introduce chris to a lot of your aunties and uncles that were scattered across the lawn. each of them were dying to see the boy you brought back home.
after all the introductions, you made your way inside to the kitchen, where your parents were cooking up some more delicious food.
chris had already met your parents, from various holidays and vacations, so to say the least they were more than comfortable with each other.
“my y/n, chris!” your mom exclaimed as she put a spoon down before making her way to the both of you. giving you both hugs and a few pecks on your faces.
your dad was next to greet you two as he embraced you both in a tight hug. “oh, chris, come help me flip these burgers while you’re here!” your dad said while passing chris a spatula and some paper plates.
you roll your eyes playfully. “dad, we just got here!” you laugh as your dad began to lead chris out the kitchen.
your dad simply shoo’d you off before reassuring you. “oh he’ll be fine, cmon boy.”
you gave chris an apologetic smile and he could only laugh before giving you a kiss goodbye. he followed your dad outback to help him prepare more food to serve to the guests. truthfully, he loved this. he felt like this was the best way to bond with everyone around him.
you could already see from the kitchen window the amount of uncles surrounding him at the grill. probably asking him a bunch of questions, and popping a few jokes here and there.
you also made your way outback but instead, you went to go rest at the lounge chairs where your cousins were hanging out.
you all caught up and a few of them even asked about chris here and there. complimenting him and his burger making skills which you were amused to hear.
after a while, you excused yourself to get a burger for yourself to eat. you made your way over to chris with a paper plate in hand. chris seemed to be having a conversation with one of your guy cousins but he excused himself when he saw you making your way towards him.
“you okay, baby?” he asks while adding more stuff to the grill.
“yeah, i just wanted to try a burger ‘cus everyone is talking about them.” you say while smiling and holding your plate out.
“like good talk, or bad talk?” chris asks playfully while placing a burger on your plate, before grabbing two buns to assemble your burger with.
“if it was bad talk you wouldn’t even be here anymore.” you laugh while taking back your plate.
“well i’ll be done in a few, i’ll come join you over there okay?” you nodded before turning around to make your way back to your seat.
-
about 2 hours went by with you and chris at the party. your dad finally let the poor boy go from the grill and you could finally spend sometime with each other.
chris was amazing from talking to the elderly, to even bonding with the little kids. even the grumpy teenagers were intrigued by him.
you yawned as you rose from your seat. “well, i think its time for us to go guys.” your little cousins groaned at this, not ready to say goodbye to their newfound best friend, chris.
after they bid their goodbyes, you two made way to say goodbye to everyone else. you got a lot of aunties telling you that you made a good choice with chris and hopefully he’s here to say to which you respond with a chuckle and a ‘definitely.” while chris got a lot of uncles dapping him up and bringing him into a hug as well.
your parents walked you two to your car and gave you both a goodbye hug.
“he’s coming next year right?” your dad asks almost immediately the hug ended. you and chris could only laugh and nod.
your parents waved goodbye as they watched your car drive off.
you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling in the passenger seat (yes chris can drive in this), which chris notices.
he takes one hand off the steering wheel and rests it on your thigh. you looked at him as you held his hand in yours. chris could feel your eyes lingering for a second more than usual.
“what?” he questions, not being able to hide the smile that was tugging at his lips.
“oh nothing..i just really love you.”
-
A/N: no foolish update todayyy sorry, possibly tmr tho! this was inspired by their one video where chris was flipping burgers. super cute 🫶🏽
tags:
@junnniiieee07 @tillies33ssss @whore4matt @stellarsturns @summerl986 @inveigledvex @beccaluvschris @stingerayyy2 @bunnysturns @braindead4l @vickyzloserz @sturnzsblog
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo x black reader#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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