#michael grey x y/n | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginesforeveryone · 3 months

Text

The Sister

Pairing: Michael Grey x Y/N Warning: very very much flirting, sassy reader, Summary: It was your eldest sisters wedding day. As she married into the Shelby family despite that words that were spoken about the Shelby boy she was due to marry she didn’t care. But for you, you never listened to your family and their arrogance. So any chance you had to piss them off, you did.

It was the day of your Eldest sister, Grace’s, wedding day. Today was the day she married Thomas Shelby. As most people say, the most dangerous man in England.

Standing at the alter as Grace’s maid of honor, in the beautiful church they were about to marry in. Looking over to your family seeing them look over at the Shelby side of the church in disgust. They were loud, laughing, just a mess a bit over there. Something you envied in a family sometimes. Very rarely did your family, laugh with each other. Scanning the other side, but instantly stopping at a younger man who sat beside Ada, the sister of Thomas Shelby. He played with a little boy dangling him over the railing as he laughed with Ada. He was, beautiful. You don’t know what your family would do if another one of you were to have interactions with another boy from the Shelby’s. But then again, you never really gave a shit what they thought. Between you and Grace, you’ve always been the “wild child” as your family explained. Grace normally always followed the wishes of you uncle who became a father figure to you and Grace after the death of your parents. But, that was okay. Need something a little spice in your life to keep it interesting since there wasn’t much else for you to do.

You thought to yourself how crazy it was standing next to not one but two Shelby brothers so close and not really having any fear of them. If a normal person on the street was to get this close to them, they’d be shitting them selves. As music began to sound the doors opened in front of you. You stood tall and with the bouquet in front of you and a smile on your face. As the doors opened and black priest walked through the door. You family was dumbfounded. Watching their faces as he walked down the aisle to the alter you couldn’t help but laughed a little at their faces. Looking over at the Shelby side again, and instantly attaching your eyes to that man again. But, this time he wasn’t distracted by the child that now sat on his lap. He was looking back at you. Full eye contact. He raised an eyebrow at you and you couldn’t help but blush little and smile. As the brides song played you focused back at the door. You uncle walking with Graces hand settle on the back of his hand. She looked stunning, even though you couldn’t see her face. You saw her all ready before the ceremony began. As she made her way down the aisle, could help but feel eyes on you still. Looking over just a little from the corner of your eye, he still had his eyes glued on you. As the ceremony went on, Grace, and Thomas said they words, then shortly after came their “I do’s.” Smiling at the smile that crossed you sisters face made you so happy. You interlocked arms with Arthur who stood as the best man to Thomas, and began to walk out of the church. Looking over at him one more time, he had different look in his eyes as he watched you walk away.

“Michael.” You heard Arthur say breaking your deep thought of the man.

“What?” You asked almost at the doors of the church.

“Michael is his name love. Just to get you ahead of the game.” He said once more.

“Welcome to the family love.” Arthur said as you exited the building waiting for everyone else to come out. As they all came pouring out of the church you smiled as you saw Grace with the biggest smile on her face.

“Congratulations sister. So happy to see you so happy.” You said pulling her into a hug.

“You have no clue how happy I am Y/N, and to have you by my side made it so much better.” She said almost in tears. You smiled and engulfed her in a hug.

“Come on lets take this picture!” You heard Arthur yell, standing beside Grace on the stairs and moments after getting yourself set you felt a presence behind you.

“Okay if I stand here?” You heard a deep English accent ask. Turning to see the man you were eye fucking not even 20 minutes ago in a place of worship, with a cigarette hanging out of him mouth. You took the cigarette out of his mouth and took a drag, then putting it back in his mouth.

“Of course.” You said with a smile as he slightly grinned back at you. You felt him get a little closer to you as people started piling in around you.

“Sorry Miss.” He said as he was pretty much on top of you.

“Y/N.” You said to him before turning your head back to where the camera sat ready for the picture. As the flash went off, after everyone dispurst from the steps. As Grace walked to the carriage with her new husband you tried to gather some warmth under your very thin shawl. Feeling a jacket lay over your shoulders confused as to what was going on saw it was Michael who noticed you were cold.

Wow, don’t even know the guy. But, what a gentleman. Didn’t expect that out of the Shelby family from all the words you have heard of them. You smiled and he walked passed you to link arms with an older women as you guys began to walk to the house for the reception.

“I’m Ada.” You heard a women say walk up beside you.

“Hi Ada. I’m Y/n.” You said with a smile and shaking her hand.

“I’m Thomas’ sister, and your Grace’s sister.” She said to you.

“Looks like we are the sisters huh?” You said with a giggle.

“Looks like it.” She also giggled back. As everyone one walked to the house together you had casual small talk with Ada and also met her son Carl. Which was the boy Michael had with him in the church. Finally getting into the house. This place was, massive. You’ve been to castles in your life. But this one was more of a home than somewhere where the military meets. Everyone going their separate ways and you kind of being left by yourself. Walking around the house seeing all the beautiful decorations, the beautiful paintings. The one of Grace was absolutely stunning. Realizing you were still wearing Michaels jacket as his musk wafted off of it.

Should probably get this back to him.

You thought to yourself. Walking a bit more trying to see if you could find him. You saw him finally as he rounded the corner and down some stairs behind Arthur. Pushing through the crowd of people to get to where he was going before you lost site of him.

God damn this place is huge. He needs a map for this fucking place.

You thought to yourself getting to the stairs. Walking down them you heard Thomas yelling at everyone in the kitchen.

“No. Fucking. Fighting.” You saw him say in all the guys faces. As you rounded the corner everyone went silent. Thomas confused by it, before he turned around and a smile settling on your face.

“Y/N! Come on over.” Thomas said motioning you over to him.

“Everyone this is Y/N my new sister in law. Y/N everyone. Everyone Y/N.” you smiled and gave a nervous hand wave to everyone around the room.

“I was just coming down to give Michael his jacket back before it got lost.” You said speaking up breaking the silence. Looking at him as he leaned against the wall behind him with smoking pouring out of him mouth.

“Mikey boy!!!! Get it!!!!” You heard the little Shelby brother say. You laughed and walked up to Michael giving him his jacket.

“I’ll see you around.” You said with a winking and walking away.

As the night went on you made tons of new friends with the Shelby family, and the Lee family. They were all so different from what you knew in your life. They were funny, outgoing, crazy but in a kind of good way. As you danced your heart out on the dance floor with everyone a man came on over the microphone.

“If everyone can make way for the bride and groom first dance.” You smiled and stepped off to the side holding your shawl around you as you watched Grace in Thomas’ embrace. Smiled at how big he smiled. How happy he makes her. Feeling a figure step near you on your right side a little closer then the rest, your turned your head to look to see who it was. It was Michael.

“Well hello.” You said with a smirk and a giggle feeling the wine getting to your brain.

“Hello.” He said taking a drag off his cigarette as you did the same.

“You may all join.” You heard the man say after a few minutes of the Grace and Thomas dancing.

“Can I have this dance?” He asked stepping in front of you with his hand out.

“Of course Mr. Grey.” You said with a smile and laying your hand his his large soft hand. Stepping forward onto the dance floor and laying a hand on his shoulder has he softly set his other on the small of your back.

“So Mr.Grey tell me about yourself.” You said look up to him only inches from his face now.

“We’ll not much to me. I do finances for for the Shelby company. My mom is Polly, and I’m just Michael.” He said looking back down at you.

“I’ve heard other things you guys participate in. Why do you look so different from the rest? Very professional, not super rugged.” You asked motioning towards the room.

“Well love, that’s the point. I’m not supposed to look like the others. But, I got your attentions right? So I guess it’s good I look different.” She spoke softly to you. As you blushed and giggled you turned your head to look over at Grace & Thomas. Grace smiling at you mouthing “get it.” She said, know full well how much it would piss your uncle off. As you thought of that scanning the room to find him staring at you, and it wasn’t a good stare. Smiling you looked back up at Michael.

“So miss. Burgess, would you like to take this party somewhere a bit more quiet so I can get to know you.” He said staring down into your eyes.

“I would love to.” You said knowing full well your uncle was about to watch you walk away with one of the Peaky Boys. he took your hand in his and walked out of the loud room, down the hall, into a office that only had 2 dimly lit candles illuminating the room. Sitting on the big couch and tossing your purse to the side of you. Michael sitting in the chair on the other side of the table.

“So Miss. Burgess. Have you enjoyed your stay so far in England?” Michael asked lighting up a cigarette and handing it to you along side a glass of whiskey.

“I have. It’s a very beautiful place out here in the country. But also something that gets me about London. The tall buildings, the rush of working people on the street trying to get where they are going. I don’t have that where I live back in Ireland. Pretty small town. Everyone know everyone. But, also beautiful like it is here in the country. Beautiful green grass, very quiet.” You went on talking about your home town and how you grew up and just about your life to a stranger you met only hours ago.

“So Michael, I’ve been hearing about about cocaine floating around this party?” You asked after finishing one of your stories about you and your family. He raised an eye brow and sat up in his chair. Lifting the front of his jacket open and pulling out a small vial that had white powder in it and setting it on the table.

“We call it snow.” He said look back at you. You got up off the couch and sat on the ground in front of it.

“Here I’ll show you.” He said leaning forward in his chair and taking the cork out of the vial.

“First you put a little down. Then you cut the snow.” He said taking out a razor blade from his jacket pocket and began to, well, cut the snow.

“Then you put it in a line.” He said as he scooted the white powder around to put it in a line.

“Then.” He said setting the razor down and pulling out a bill and rolling it up tight as if it were a straw. Handing it over to you, you took it in your hand.

“You won’t do any?” You asked.

“No I’m okay.” He said sitting back in his chair and cross his legs watching you very closely. You pushed the left side of your nose in, and put the bill up to your other nostril and inhaled the line. Giggling a bit after you did, and so did Michael. Wiping your nose and hold your hand out to give him his money back.

“Keep it.” He said taking a drag from his cigarette. You let out a breathy laugh and stood up.

“Mr. Grey. I don’t need your money, nor do I want it.” You said walking slowly around the table to where he sat. Stopping directly in front of him, stepping between his legs.

“I’m not a whore love.” You said bending over in front of him and putting the bill in his front pocket. Standing up straight, turning around and grabbing your purse off the couch.

“Thank you for the snow Mr. Grey.” You said turning towards him as he now he stood up in front of his chair. In one swift move he had you pushed up against the door that you were about to leave out of.

“Miss. Burgess, the one thing I didn’t tell you about me is I do not like being teased. I don’t like having things I want dangled in front of me, and guess what?” He said grabbing your face in his hands.

“I want you.” He whispered and smashed his lips into yours. Taking he’s soft bottom lip between your teeth causing a low growl to come out of him. He lifted you off your feet and you wrapped your legs around him. As he carried you over to the couch and laying you down on it, now between your legs kissing up and down your neck. A few moments later you heard a knock at the door.

“FUCK OFF!” Michael yelled.

“Who the fuck are you telling to fuck off?” You heard as the door opened. Shooting up to look over the couch to see who it was. It was Arthur

“Oh shit.” Arthur said threw laughter.

“What Arthur?” Michael asked standing up as he buttoned the top button of his shirt that at some point came undone.

“Dinner is ready and Grace is looking for her sister.” He said still not able to contain his laughter.

“Thank you Arthur.” He said helping you up off the couch. Embarrassed as all you walked to the door and passed Arthur.

“Miss.” He said bowing his head at you with laughter still under his breathe.

“Mikey boy!” You heard faintly behind you. Smiling to yourself as you walked down the hall. You saw a tall women, with short black hair, in a blue sparkly dress practically running passed you.

“FUCK PARISH BASTARD!” She screamed walking towards Arthur and Michael. It wasn’t any of your business so you just kept walking. Rounding the corner to head to the dining room and sitting beside your uncle.

“Where were you?” He asked after a few moments of silence from your side of the table as Ada talked about politics to one of your family members across the table.

“I was looking around the house. It’s quite a beautiful place.” You spoke to him, but looked passed him as you saw Arthur, Michael, and the tall slender women walk into the room. Michael had a cigarette dangling between the lips you were moments ago were attached to. Giving you a wink as he sat across from you at the table.

“Don’t worry love, we will be back home in due time.” You uncle spoke.

It hit you that you were going to be leaving this place in just a day. You didn’t want to. Yes, you’ve only been here a few days, but you fell in love with England. It was beautiful. Then there was Michael. You didn’t know if it would turn into more than a fuck, but you wanted to stay and find out.

“To the bride.” Thomas said breaking you from your thoughts. You stood as everyone else did with a whiskey in your hand and holding it out towards Grace as she smiled at everyone around the room.

“The bride.” Everyone spoke and took a sip of their drinks, and sitting back down.

“Now, according to traditions. My best man to say a few words.” Thomas spoke with a bit of nervousness in his voice and sat back down.

“Go on! Here he goes! Go on, Arthur!” John yelled over to him and pulling your attention towards him and only a spot over Michael sat, who very intently looked at you. As if you were a project he couldn’t seem to figure out.

“I’m not one for speeches.” Arthur said standing.

“Sing then!” John yelled at causing you to giggle a bit.

“I will later John” He spoke to his brother.

“But I do have some words written down here.” Stuttering over a few of his words. It as weird seeing a Shelby man so nervous.

“On this piece of paper.” He said grabbing the paper out of his jacket pocket that laid on the back of the chair.

“This doesn’t include everything that I want to say.” He said look up from the paper around the room.

“But, first a few words from the heart.” He said stuttering over a few of his word.

“The is man here, my brother Tommy. Helped me survive through some of the worst times.” Arthur some with emotion. Thomas clearing his throat as it was a way of telling Arthur to shut up and just read what’s on the paper.

“Its a wedding, Arthur, tell a joke.” Michael spoke up looking over at him. Looking at Michael who had a look of nervousness on his face. You had no clue what the hell was going on. But they all acted very weird. Michael looking back over at you and giving you a soft smile. As Arthur went on with what he wanted to say anyways and Thomas stopping him before he could say anything else, other then what was written in that piece of paper he didn’t read from.

“To peace, to love, to marriage.” Thomas said standing up as everyone else did with their drinks in the air. Looking over at Michael who had a worry in his eye that was settling. He took a drag off of his cigarette. Watching his lips as he did so and trying not to think back at how soft they were on yours. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to see what this man had to offer, and you believed he wanted to show you too

#Michael grey #finn cole #Michael grey x reader #Michael grey x Y/N #peaky blinders #imagine #imagines

22 notes · View notes

aemondsbabe · 8 months

Text

Stick it Out to the End

summary: michael is desperate to get into oxford's prestigious bullingdon club; unfortunately for him, they command him to do the impossible to gain admittance

pairing: michael gavey x bimbo!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, bimbo reader, mentions of hazing but nothing horrible/extreme, virgin!michael, breast/nipple play, praise kink, piv sex, protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral sex (f receiving), consensual filming, dirty talk, cursing, what i hope is saltburn-esque humor, mild size kink, mild angst but happy ending, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 12.7k

a/n: images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only & are not used to describe the reader! she's back and she's long as hell but what else is new!!! this is my first time writing bimbo!reader and while she wasn't super bimbo-y, it was fun getting my feet wet! hope y'all enjoy!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🩷 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

Michael

Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up in his chest as he wound through the quiet corridors clutching tightly to the cryptic note he’d found stuffed in his pigeonhole that morning – just a page torn out of a standard notebook covered hastily written red ink; wholly un-intimidating as far as cryptic notes were concerned. Really, he was surprised to see they didn’t put more effort in; with as secretive and imperious as this little club was, he had been expecting some sort of extravagant stationary, perhaps even some gold embossing.

Coming to a stop in front of an unassuming janitor’s closet door, he narrows his eyes behind the gold frames of his glasses, staring at the door with a nearly accusatorial expression. Michael swivels his head once more, his brows furrowed as he checks and re-checks every door in the vicinity before turning back to the one he stands before. Scoffing, he unfolds the note with a little irritated sigh and quickly scans the page again, mouthing the words to himself for the millionth time that day.

The riddle had been easy enough to figure out, some trivial little lines about dead men walking, the mob, finding God, and looking to one’s heart pointed right toward some hush hush basement beneath the Merton College Chapel. That, and it didn’t take a genius to see that each line consisted of a specific number of words, pointing him right to the very door he stood in front of now – 129.

Fucking amateurs, he’d thought after cracking the code in under half an hour. But that was earlier. And now, as he stares at the stupid dull grey janitor’s closet door in front of him, Michael can’t stop the little tendrils of doubt from creeping into his periphery. He’s sure this is the right door and positive this is the right place and yet… janitor’s closet. He checks his watch, 11:50 PM on the dot, and glances up and down the dark, shadowy corridors once more, half expecting one of the twatty rich assholes to jump out and start snickering at him, making fun of him for thinking that a no one like him would’ve ever received an invite to a club like this.

Shaking his head, he reaches for the doorknob anyway, he’s come this far so he may as well. He freezes a little when it actually turns and his blue eyes go wide when he pushes the door open, shivering a little as he’s met with a wall of cool, dank air – eau de basement, just as he’d expected. A little actually impressed sigh passes his lips when he pokes his head in, an apprehensive smile blooming on his lips as he takes in the eerie red lighting spilling up the stairwell from the God-knows-what downstairs.

He winces as the door squeaks when he tugs it open but he doesn’t stop, emboldened now as he knows he had been right once again. He takes the stairs quickly, probably too quickly given that he hasn’t a fucking clue what or who could be down here, but before he can dwell on the idea too much, he’s faced with another corridor. This one, unlike the ones upstairs, is narrow and brick-lined and leads in only one direction, straight to another closed door at the other end.

Michael squints against the bright red light coming from a spotlight that had been haphazardly set up on the stone floor and walks down the hallway, his steps speeding up as he hears the janitor’s door above him open and close once more. His breath hitches a little as he opens the second door and quickly steps inside, like ripping off a band-aid.

He freezes once more when a strong hand latches onto his shoulder and quickly jerks him further into the room, making him yelp as he stumbles, trying to keep pace with whoever the hell is leading him.

“What the –”

Before he has time to so much as blink, his back thuds against a brick wall and finally he looks up, the vicious scowl he’d prepared morphing into a look of disturbed confusion as he eyes a row of other students, about fifteen and all men from the looks of it, dawned with black –

Oh, Christ, are those ski masks? He thinks as he eyes them up and down, How fucking banal… at least it’s not hooded cloaks. He nearly rolls his eyes as he scans the rest of the room, taking in the dim lighting interspersed with blues and greens from more of those stupid party boy spotlights. Glancing to the side, he sees another boy in his year, some guy he only knew from a few classes and passing glances in the hallways, but even still he’s comforted to not be alone down here, no matter how cliché this whole affair seemed.

His blue eyes snap forward as the door, the only door, to the room is opened once more and some other poor sap is hastily dragged across the room, only to be smacked on the wall to his left. Again, it’s just some other boy Michael knows from classes, though he doesn’t know why he expects any different – it’s not as if he knows many people outside of the forced proximity of a lecture hall. Which was really his only reason for putting up with this bother, for seeking it out in the first place; a quick flash of him placing a tightly folded up sticky note with his name and pigeonhole number in an old, beaten up copy of King Lear in the library played in his mind – the price he seemed to pay for loneliness.

Distantly, the bells of the chapel began to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, and eventually twelve times – midnight. Time to start the show, Michael surmises.

“Welcome, initiates,” one of the hooded men says in a tone that makes Michael glare judgmentally, his voice pitched down like some idiotic knock-off Darth Vader. He steps forward from the row they stand in and holds his arms out open at his sides, “Consider this your first foray into the Bullingdon Club.”

Again, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in a scoff. This was all just so… juvenile? He was beginning to sincerely doubt that this was the über clandestine club that granted its members all sorts of connections to various businesses, societies, and insider information that even the richest of the rich couldn’t buy.

Unfortunately, his face seemed to betray more of his emotions than he intended and the masked boy steps forward once more, his dark eyes zeroing in on Michael.

“You,” he says gruffly, pointing a finger in his direction, “Something you wanna say, initiate?”

Out of habit, he pushed his glasses up on his nose before he spoke, perhaps foolishly bold given the situation.

“Doesn’t this all seem a bit much for three people?” He scoffs, shaking his head slightly, “I mean, masks, really?”

The hooded boy stops for a second and studies Michael closely, one hand on his hip, “What’s wrong with the masks?”

“Well, what’s the point? There’s, what, fifteen or sixteen of you? And three of us?” He asks, glancing around the room, which he now realized very clearly used to be some run-of-the-mill storage room, probably forgotten about by now.

The boy laughs sarcastically and shrugs his shoulders a bit, his voice back to its natural pitch, “It wouldn’t really be a secret thing if we just invited half the student body, mate.”

Michael supposes his reasoning is sound and says as much with a little hum and nod of his head, eyebrows raising dismissively.

“Anything else?” The masked boy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The masks don’t really disguise you lot that well,” he observes, pointing at one of the other boys standing in the row, “That’s Harry from Multivariable Calculus.”

“Shit…” Harry mutters under his breath, the sound carrying through the concrete room. A few of the other boys in the row lean over and place comforting hands on his shoulders and murmur words of encouragement, much to Michael’s dismay.

“Why’re you here, initiate?” The lead boy asks, turning back to Michael.

“Dunno,” he shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Friends, I guess.”

A couple of the boys in the row make little noises, mutters of empathy that make the blond’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he glances up and down the line.

“And this was your first thought? A secret society?” Harry from Multivariable Calculus asks with a little laugh, “Not like… chess or something?”

“Don’t really like chess…” Michael says with a little shrug. Apparently a good enough answer for Harry, who makes a little noise of understanding and nods his head.

After another moment, the lead boy clears his throat, which shuts up the rest. “Anyway,” he says, his voice falsely low once more. “Each of you will be given a task…,” his dark eyes glance between Michael and the other two boys as he paces in front of them, “Perfectly customized to challenge you, to push you to your absolute limits.”

The masked boy pauses his little speech and gestures back to three of the other boys standing in the row behind him who then step forward and walk over to the dank brick wall that Michael and the other two boys stand against. He studies the boy that walks towards him carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he notices how much shorter he appears to be.

Finally, the boy comes to stand before him and presents a plain white envelope, though Michael’s lips spread into a hateful smirk when he sees an all too familiar pair of old, beat up trainers on the boy’s feet.

“Oliver?!” He hisses meanly, shock lacing his voice as he jerks back the hand he had reached out for the envelope, wincing as his elbow collides with the cool wall behind him. He glances around the room, noting the few pairs of eyes that were on him, before fixing his gaze on the boy before him once more with a harsh glare, “You’re in Bullingdon?”

The boy in front of him hesitates for a second, cutting a sideways glance toward a taller boy that was busy presenting an envelope to the boy to Michael’s left, before he sighs and looks back at him, blue eyes peeking out of the holes in his ski mask. “Yeah,” he huffs, shrugging his shoulders defensively, “How’d you know it was me, then?”

“You look like a goddamn twelve year old!” Michael jeers, his voice low and vicious as his hands curl into fists at his sides, “How’d you manage to get into this club anyway?” He questions, seething, “They only let you in if you have the money or the marks and I know for a fucking fact you don’t have either.”

Oliver sighs again and rolls his eyes, which makes him see red and grit his teeth, although he doesn’t miss how the shorter boy’s eyes cut to the side again quickly. He opens his mouth, but before he can get a word in edgewise, the blond cuts him off with a little mocking laugh.

“Don’t tell me that’s fucking Catton,” Michael groans lowly with a shake of his head, breathing heavily as he feels the same sense of anger and betrayal he’d felt all those months ago well up in him once more, transporting him right back to the stupid damn pub, “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me, is this shite little club only full of cunts?”

“Look, I’m –”

Oliver starts to speak again, only to be cut off when the head boy traipses over to where they are, coming to stand ominously behind him with his arms clasped behind his back. His dark eyes dart between the two boys before he speaks.

“Problem over here, lads?”

“No,” Oliver answers quickly, staring warily up at Michael as he practically shoves the envelope into his arms, “Just complete the task, initiate. You have thirty-six hours.”

Before Michael can blink, Oliver turns his back and stalks back over to the other boys, taking his place in the row once more. The head boy looks Michael up and down appraisingly before nodding to the letter in his hands with a sly smirk.

“I can’t wait to see how you fare with that one, Gavey,” he says, his voice low and threatening, as if he’s in on the most delicious joke, “Remember, thirty-six hours, initiate.” He chuckles softly and departs, returning to stand in the center of the room.

Everyone stands still for a moment, Michael and the other two boys to his left and right holding their respective envelopes nervously, unsure if they were supposed to open them now or not. Thankfully, the head boy clears his throat, commanding all eyes to him once again.

“Initiates,” he says slowly, his voice no doubt already hoarse from this little farce, “Failure to complete your tasks will result in a permanent ban from Bullingdon; no second chances. We expect results as well as proof of those results,” his dark eyes scan over the three boys once more, one corner of his mouth turned up into a mean smirk, “We’ll be seeing you back in this location Sunday at noon. Your thirty-six hours begin now… have fun.” He finishes with a taunting laugh before turning and exiting from the room, the old door creaking as he pulls it open before disappearing into the faint red glow of the hallway, followed by the rest of the fifteen boys in an orderly line.

As soon as the old door closes, the sound of paper tearing echoes around the dimly lit basement as Michael and the other two boys hastily tear open their envelopes. Pulling out a little slip of paper, his eyes go wide as a wave of dread washes over him. His eyes scan over the paper again and again as he nervously shoves his glasses back up his nose once more, silently willing the chicken-scratch words on the paper to somehow change, to give him some other command.

His heart is pumping so loudly in his ears that he misses it when one of the other boys tries getting his attention, his head snapping up suddenly as a hand waves in front of it.

“Oi!”

“W-What?”

“What did they give you?” The boy asks, nodding at the scrap of paper in Michael’s hand.

He clears his throat and tries his best to come off as casual, though he hardly cares with the way thoughts begin racing through his mind. “Oh, um,” he starts, glancing down to read over the paper once more, “I just uh, have to sleep with someone is all.”

The other two boys gape at him for a moment before groaning frustratedly. The one that had first spoken to him holds his paper out and smacks it disdainfully with the back of his hand.

“What the hell?” He asks gruffly, glancing between his paper and Michael, “Why’s yours so bloody easy?”

“For real,” sighs the second boy, rubbing the back of his head, “Ours are damn near impossible. They must already be decided on you to go so soft. How am I meant to steal the fucking Selden Map from Bodleian?” He laments, brows furrowed as he stares down at the paper in his hands.

“Yeah, and I have to transfer ten thousand pounds out of the chancellor’s bank account and into mine!” The first boy sighs, shaking his head, “At least your mum’s head of conservatorship here, you can at least get within a stone’s throw of the map. I have to commit fucking wire fraud!”

The two boys grumble for another moment as Michael silently descends into a tailspin, his blue eyes unfocused as he stares at one of the dingy brick walls of the basement, trying desperately to formulate a plan, any plan. He merely glances up as the other to head for the door, spitballing ideas for each of their tasks.

“Isn’t your dad the president of Julius Baer? Can’t you just get him to pull strings?”

“Oh, yeah, fantastic idea! I’ll just ring him and ask the old man to commit a felony! What could possibly go wrong there?”

Michael tries to tune out their bickering as the three of them ascend the staircase and trail out into the hallway of Merton College Chapel once more; the two other boys don’t pay him any mind as they continue whispering amongst themselves, their voices trailing quietly down the hallway as he leans with his back against the cool metal of the janitor’s closet door.

Sighing, he reads over the directive again, his blue eyes catching on the sharply scrawled letters of a very familiar name, one that makes his cheeks flush and his heart race. He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

How could they know to do this? He wonders sheepishly. It’s not like he’d mentioned her to anyone; hell, he’d never even said so much as three words to her! No, his pathetic little crush was entirely in his mind.

Too much of a coward to even say hi, he bemoans, trying to stave off the sense of shame he felt as he considered how many times he’d finished with her name on his lips, her pretty face and soft curves and sweet smell and little girly outfits whirling around his head since he’d spotted her on the first fucking day; he’d pined ever since and she didn’t even know he existed! How could she?

This is fucking impossible, he thinks miserably, wishing that he had any other task. He’d rather steal the Queen’s own goddamn family jewels than this. He glances at his watch once more and groans when he sees it’s almost already two in the morning; pushing himself up off the door, he hangs his head as he scurries back to his dorm room, thoughts spiraling as he plots.

You

A laugh bubbles up past your lips as you sway your hips, your whole body vibrating as “Umbrella” blasts through the speakers while you dance with your friends, partying to celebrate the end of term.

“You can run into my arms, it’s okay, don't be alarmed!” You sing happily, yours and your friends voices mingling together with another peal of laughter; you take another sip of your drink as you move along with the beat of the song, savoring the fizzy strawberry daiquiri as you begin to feel a bit warm from the little rush of alcohol, already on your third drink of the night.

You smile proudly as you spot Felix in the crowd, his hazel eyes already fixed on you, or well, fixated on your chest. His attention makes you preen and you bite your lower lip, the sickly sweet taste of your cherry lip gloss filling your mouth as you purposefully bounce up and down on the balls of your feet.

The thin straps of your pastel pink dress hold on for dear life as your chest heaves enticingly, and you giggle when you see those hazel eyes widen just a bit, no doubt tracing over the glittering chain of your necklace, following down to where it settles, a little sparkly pink diamond nestling temptingly at your cleavage. You teasingly wink, blushing a little when you get a wink back, and go back to dancing with your friends, knowing from experience that Felix preferred to approach rather than be approached.

You dance with your friends for a few more moments, grinding up against any warm body you can find as a raunchier song begins pumping through the speakers, before you feel eyes on you yet again. Smiling at the attention, you glance around again, the low, colorful lighting of the pub making it hard to tell exactly which direction your admirer’s coming from.

Your eyes flit over a few familiar faces, you can’t help but sigh in relief when you notice that Oliver’s eyes are thankfully planted firmly on someone that is not you, though a confused little crease forms between your brows when you realize that Felix’s aren’t either. Turning your head, you sway along to the music still as you look around quickly, your feet beginning to ache finally from the precious little satin Chanel heels buckled around your ankles.

Your eyes finally lock onto an unexpected gaze, a fresh wash of pink coloring your cheeks as blue eyes glance shyly away from you. A little giggle titters past your lips as you lean over to one of your friends, patting her shoulder to get her attention.

“You know who that blond guy is? With the glasses?” You call over the music, nodding over in your admirer’s direction as he stands awkwardly back against the wall by the entrance, clutching a still-foamy pint.

She glances over before turning back to you with a little shrug. “Michael something, I think!” She says, her breath warm as she leans in closer so you can hear her, “I thought Oliver knew him!”

Your eyes immediately find the brunette, predictably following Felix around like a lost little puppy, before you look back over at Michael. You can’t help but feel a bit bad when you see him quickly look away from your direction again before staring intently into his pint glass, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants.

“I’m gonna take a breather for a second!” You yell over the loud music, leaning in close and cupping a hand over her ear.

“Aw, babe, come on!” She pouts playfully, tilting her head at you, “Stay longer!”

You shake your head with another little laugh and gesture at your feet, “These are sooo cute but they’re killing me!” You laugh, finishing off the last sip of your drink, “I’ll be over by the notice board!” You tell her, blowing a kiss as you walk away from the dance floor of the small, cramped pub.

Finally, you reach the little area by the front door and lean back against the wall, taking in a much-needed deep breath as you pull your little tube of lip gloss out of your bra and carefully reapply some more, smirking when you glance over out of the corner of your eye and see a certain blond boy already shyly eyeing you.

Rubbing your lips together with a little pouty pop, you tuck your gloss back in your bra once more before slowly approaching Michael, prettily manicured hands clasped behind your back to help shamelessly push your chest out more. His wide eyed stare makes you giggle and blush as you study him, eyes flitting appreciatively up and down his lithe frame; so much potential hidden away under a little button down and khakis.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” you tease, smirking when he blushes and all but chokes on his beer, coughing for a few seconds before finally speaking.

“I… Me?” He asks awkwardly, glancing around for seemingly anyone else you could be talking to.

Lucky for him, you find his awkwardness endearing. Truthfully, you had for months, never missing the way his eyes always happened upon you in a crowd. There was something impressive about the boy, something that had made your mind drift to him on more than one occasion, even if you were already under someone else.

“Of course you, silly,” you laugh softly, leaning against the wall next to him and tilting your head curiously, “You’re Michael, right?”

His eyes go wide again and nods wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, Michael,” he says with a reserved little smile, “Gavey! Michael Gavey…” He adds awkwardly, cheeks flushing even more when you giggle, seemingly charmed by his inability to string two words together. He nods as you introduce yourself.

“I know,” he says before blinking, eyes going wide behind his gold framed glasses as he awkwardly glances away, “I just… I mean I’ve heard your name before, that’s all.”

“That’s all, huh?” You echo with a flirty little giggle, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you let the moment linger, just wanting to push him a little. “What’re you reading?” You ask curiously, cocking your head to the side a little.

“Maths,” he nods quickly before looking down into his pint glass once more as if fizzling beer is the most interesting thing in the world, “I don’t really like it all that much, though… I mostly only picked it because I’m good at it.”

“Ooh,” you coo softly, nodding along with his words as you watch him carefully, “You must be wicked smart, I can’t do maths to save my life.” You comment with a little giggle, biting your lip when he seems to perk up at that comment and looks up at you with a little grin.

“I can do it in my head,” he says lowly, an unexpectedly cocky edge to his voice that has your heart picking up in your chest, “Ask me a sum,” he says, a challenging glimmer in his eyes.

You hum softly, biting your lip as you think for a second, “Uhm, seventy-two plus a hundred and thirteen?”

“One eighty-five,” he chuckles after no more than a second before scoffing a little, “Come on, give me one that’s hard, love.”

Love? The little pet name makes you raise an eyebrow before you laugh softly. “What do you mean a hard one?” You giggle, shaking your head, “That one was hard!”

“That was hard for you?” He teases, making your cheeks tingle as a pink flush settles over your skin, “What’re you reading, then?”

“Art history!” You chirp proudly, chuckling nervously when you see him roll his eyes a bit, “What? Something wrong with that?”

He shakes his head dismissively, quickly polishing off the last of his pint before setting the empty class on a table and turning back to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin, “Ask me another one, then. Biggest numbers you can think of.”

You don’t know why, but something about his little challenge has you blushing again, like he’s testing you somehow. But still, you take a moment to think of some numbers, biting your lip and quirking your eyes up toward the ceiling.

“Six hundred thirty-two times… eight hundred ninety-one,” you hum, cocking your head to the side as you watch him closely. His eyes seem to glaze over, only for a second, before once again he’s spouting off numbers like a calculator.

“Five hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred and twelve.”

Your eyebrows raise at that as you gawk at him. “Wow…,” you breathe after a moment, blinking as you stare up at him, “You’re, like, super smart, then?”

“Suppose so,” he says, smiling shyly again as he tucks both hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.

You study him for a moment as the conversation lulls, finding something endlessly fascinating about the boy; the way he could swing from being so cocky and self assured to shy and awkward makes your stomach do summersaults. Turning your head, you spot your group of friends still dancing and you look back at Michael with a little sigh as another upbeat song blasts loudly through the pub.

“D’you wanna get out of here?” You ask, smirking when he looks up at you shyly.

“W-What?”

“My dorm’s only, like, a minute from here,” you flirt, sweet and enticing as you make him blush somehow more, “We could go somewhere more… quiet?”

He stares at you for a moment, shocked that you’re asking him of all people to come back to yours before he nods and nervously runs a hand through his wheat colored hair, unsuccessfully trying to act casual. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

“Yay!” You giggle happily, flirtatiously grabbing one of his hands as you saunter past him, heading for the exit, “C’mon, it’s like a five minute walk!” He nods wordlessly and you can’t help but smirk as he follows you like a lost little puppy.

True to your word, it’s only a few minutes later when you and Michael reach your dorm room, after you’d stopped for a minute at the entrance to your hall to chat with Farleigh, who seemed very interested in the nerdy boy following at your heels. You just couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you and Michael left him standing at the doors, mouth open and a wicked little gleam in his eyes; no doubt, he’d immediately scurried off to the King’s Arms.

The door to your room opens with a tiny squeak, blasted old building, and you all but prance inside, turning back to the blond boy still lingering in the doorway with a smile.

“Am I going to have to invite you in like a vampire?” You joke with a little laugh as you bend down to quickly undo the buckles of your heels, letting out a relieved sigh when you finally step out of them, leaving you in frilly white ankle socks.

Michael finally steps into your room with a huffed laugh and quickly kicks off his shoes, you smirk when you see his Star Wars themed socks. “‘M no vampire, love,” he quips, gold framed eyes darting around your room as he looks over every detail. You grin at the little blush on his cheeks and perch on the edge of your bed to watch him, head tilted ever so slightly.

“It’s, uh, it’s cute in here,” he observes, his voice a low hum as he takes in your frilly, lacy curtains, plush white rug, and equally girlish floral bedding, all encased in the faint pink glow of the heart-shaped fairy lights strung up around the room, “Just like how I imagined…” He breathes, so lowly you doubt he meant to say that bit aloud.

“Like you imagined?” You echo with a little giggle, quickly reapplying your lip gloss before setting the little tube on the corner of your desk.

“I just… I – It’s just very… you, is all I meant,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, the apples of his cheeks flushed a dark pink.

His awkwardness is so endearing, you can’t help but grin. The more time you spend with him, the more interesting he seems to become; this bumbling, nervous boy is so different from the one you’ve seen on campus so many times. On campus, he’s comfortable, quiet still, but with a definite air of confidence – clearly in his element as he prowls through bookshelves in the library or explains some complex math formula in the quad.

“So, you think about me often, then?” Your voice stays sweet, innocent almost, though you can’t help but tease him; he’s so pretty when he blushes.

“No!” He answers quickly, whipping his head toward you from where he’d been studying the various pictures tacked up on the walls, everything from boy band posters to stills from Clueless and Legally Blonde. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I…,” he fumbles again and pushes his glasses up his sharp nose, “I think about you a normal amount.” He says finally, glancing at you quickly before looking away.

You hum softly and stand before walking toward him with a kind smile, though you don’t miss the way he keeps glancing down at your cleavage, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows nervously.

“A normal amount?”

“Mhm,” he nods, gaze unsure as you come to stand in front of him, teeth biting into your plush lower lip as you twirl a piece of hair through your fingers, “As much as I think of anyone else.”

“So…,” you breathe, drawing out the word as you reach up and fiddle with the collar of his button down shirt, the turquoise gingham a bright blue blip among all the blush tones of your room, “Every time I’ve caught you looking at my tits in the library or in the quad or in the hallways… that was just a normal amount?”

You giggle as his eyes go wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. Deciding to take mercy on him, you run a finger down his chest, playfully fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Relax, I’m not mad,” you shake your head, smiling when the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, “Why wouldn’t I want a cutie like you staring?”

His lips part at that as he sucks in a little breath, blue eyes widening behind his glasses. “You think I’m… cute?” He asks breathlessly, heart pounding under your fingertip.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip once more as you nod, cocking your head to the side just slightly as you peer up at him. “‘Course I do, honey, what’s not to like?”

Again, he gawks at you, blinking in shock and swallowing nervously.

“I –”

“I do have one question though…,” you tease, pouting a bit as you slowly and carefully undo the very top button on his shirt, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat.

“Y-Yeah?” His voice breaks, making you giggle while he blushes somehow deeper.

“Mhm,” you nod, undoing the second button and pausing when you find a splash of hair across his chest, the same shiny wheat color as the hair on his head, causing a familiar knot to begin twisting itself up in your belly, “Why were you at the end of term party?”

He blinks for a second, evidently taken off guard. “I… W-Was it invite only?”

His question nearly makes you snort and you shake your head, the corners of your lips twitching as you try not to laugh. “No, sweetie,” you peer up at him through your lashes as you rest your hand against his bare chest, smirking ever so slightly when he shivers, “I just meant, I haven’t seen you at parties before… doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.”

“I, well,” he stammers, the bottoms of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his cheeks, “I just –”

“It’s for that club, yeah?” You ask finally, giggling at the shocked expression on his face.

“How do –”

“You lot are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” you laugh cheekily, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet, “Plus, I heard Felix and Oliver whispering about something to do with tasks a few weeks ago… and boys are very bad at keeping secrets once you get their cocks out.” You add with a little giggle, taking Michael’s hand once more and dragging him over to your plush bed. You sit him on the edge before all but climbing in his lap, smiling cheekily as you straddle his thighs, your knees digging into your soft bedding.

“So,” you start, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself and smiling a little when he finally touches you, lightly resting his hands on your hips, “What’s your task, hm? I heard they made them, like, particularly brutal this year.”

“I don’t think I should say,” Michael murmurs with a little shake of his head, making you pout.

“Oh, come on!” You bounce on his lap a little, not missing the way his eyes seem to be drawn to your breasts like magnets, “I want to help! Is it something at the King’s Arms?”

“N-No, I really don’t think –”

“I know they keep the important rugby trophies there,” you think aloud, still playing dumb, just wanting him to say it, “Is that it? D’you have to steal one? One of the boys that works there owes me, I could get him to let you in after hours…” You prattle on, speaking faster and faster as Michael shakes his head beneath you.

Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point and his grip on your hips tightens. “I have to fuck you!” He blurts out before sighing.

“Oh, really?”

“I… I have to fuck you –”

“Mhm?”

“And prove I did somehow.”

“How interesting!”

He narrows his eyes at that and peers up at you suspiciously, studying you carefully. You can’t help but giggle, loving the way you feel when his eyes are on you, and you smirk when he finally blinks in realization.

“You… you knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

A sly smile spreads across your lips as you nod, squirming excitedly on his lap. “Like I said,” you chuckle with a little shrug, “Not. Sneaky!” You tease, punctuating each word with a little boop to the tip of his nose, unable to resist.

He stays silent for a moment, gazing up at you with a strange mixture of awe and unease before he finally speaks through a deep sigh. “So, I suppose this is the part where you tell me to leave?”

Well, that comment throws you off. You cock your head to the side, confused, as your eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I ask you to leave?”

He sighs again and grits his teeth, looking dejectedly at the floor. “Come on, love,” he mutters, looking anywhere but you, “I-It’s not like you’d ever want to –”

“Ever want to what?” You ask with a frown, gently grabbing at his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze, “You think I don’t wanna fuck you, honey?”

“Well, I –”

“Michael,” you say pointedly, raising your brows as you smirk slightly, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m the one that came onto you, yeah?”

“I… I suppose.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as you run your fingers through his short hair, not missing the little sigh that leaves his lips when you push yourself closer to him, your chest pressing tightly against his, “And while I’m not thrilled at our first time being for some stupid little task –”

“It’s,” he cuts you off shyly, shaking his head ever so slightly, “It’s – I’ve never…” He stammers, nervously gripping at your waist once more.

You can’t help but smile softly, so charmed by him over and over. You nod your head knowingly, raising your brows just a bit. “I know, honey,” you whisper reassuringly, “We don’t have to, I’ll let you take a pair of my panties or whatever else, but we don’t need to do anything.”

He sighs up at you again, so taken with you he feels like he could scream, and shakes his head more, grabbing at your hips tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “N-No, I… I want to,” he nods, swallowing anxiously, “I do, I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”

You nod again, listening carefully as he speaks. “So, is it all new or…?”

He shakes his head and smiles a little, shyly, though the sight of it still makes that knot in your belly tighten further, making you blush on his lap while butterflies swirl around inside you. “I’ve kissed before,” he says lowly, chuckling awkwardly as he seems to get bolder, causing you to shudder when he lightly rubs his hands over your waist and hips, “And done… hand stuff.”

You giggle at his boyish explanation and bite your lip when you smile at him, wiggling in his lap as a heat begins to settle at the apex of your thighs. “Can I kiss you, honey?”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat again, making you want so badly to press soft, glossy kisses to it, but you resist, determined to make this good for him.

“Yeah,” he nods eagerly, blue eyes fixated on your lips.

You smile softly before leaning in and finally pressing your lips against his, both of you sighing at once. One of his hands stays at your hip while the other comes to rest in the small of your back, pressing you more tightly to him as your lips move together, his motions surprisingly fluid and practiced.

You make a small noise in the back of your throat when you feel his tongue licking at your bottom lip, and eagerly allow him access with a little sigh. Your fingers busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making him shudder beneath you when you skim your hands over his bare chest and stomach as his tongue flows with your own, the bitter, coffee-ish flavor of the pint he’d had earlier still on his tongue.

Impatient, you pull back long enough to look at him for reassurance, smiling when you earn a little nod. You kiss him once more before tugging his shirt off, flushing when he groans lowly as you trail kisses down over his jaw and neck before swiping your tongue greedily over his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch.

“F-Fuck,” he sighs brokenly, bolding tracing over your thigh until his fingers are tucked up under the silky, baby pink material of your dress. His touches make you shiver as goosebumps bloom over your skin, making you whine against the pale column of his throat, “Can I?” He breathes, fingers toying with a strap of your dress while the others slowly inched the bottom of it up higher and higher.

“God, please,” you mewl, nodding against his throat, your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the feel of your breath on his neck and nods once before tugging at the bottom of your dress. You sit up to help him, whining when you feel his hard length pressing against your thin, lacy underwear, “You don’t need to ask, Michael. Want you to take me however you want.” You whisper as he tugs your dress over your head, blue eyes meeting yours for a second as he nods before they skim lower, widening as he takes you in on his lap wearing only a bra and panties.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, making you giggle shyly as you lean in and softly kiss over his cheeks, “You have…you’re – you’re perfect,” he sighs, brazenly cupping your breasts, skimming his thumbs over your nipples through the thin pink fabric of your bra and smiling proudly when he feels them harden at his touch, “You’re perfect, but these are… holy shit.” He repeats, his voice breathy and mesmerized as he takes in your chest for another moment while you softly card your fingers through his golden hair.

You gasp through a little giggle when you feel his length twitch, even through his trousers, and wiggle on his lap, blushing when the movement earns you a broken groan. “Yeah?” You whisper cheekily, watching as he marvels at your chest for a second longer before quickly unclasping your bra and shrugging out of it, tossing it down onto the floor with his shirt and your dress, “What about now?” You tease, proudly arching your back as you bite your lip.

He groans again, louder than he has all evening, and instantly ducks his head down. The feel of his soft lips wrapping eagerly around one of your nipples makes you cry out, gasping sharply as he sucks at the sensitive bud before he runs his tongue over it. You cradle the back of his head in your hands, fingers lightly pulling at the short strands of hair, as he switches from one breast to the other, kneading whichever one is free with his hand.

Needing something, anything, you finally pull him off of your chest after a few moments, laughing when he all but whines, and smiling even more when you take in his disheveled appearance – blond hair sticking up at odd angles from where you’d run your fingers through it, cheeks flushed as his glasses sit crooked on his nose, and his blue eyes staring up at you hungrily.

You shift back on his thighs just enough to snake a hand between the two of you and he gasps when you cup the bulge pressing against the zipper of his khakis. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask cheekily, lightly squeezing at his length.

He surprises you by shaking his head no,gulping slightly with an awkward laugh before answering. “I do, I really fucking do, love,” he breathes, kneading at your breasts as he stares up at you sheepishly, “B-But I really want to last and if you… if you suck it, I –”

“Okay, okay,” you stop him with a kiss, “We’ll table it for next time.”

“N-Next time?” He questions, fighting to keep his eyes open as you press kisses against his neck once more. You nod against his shoulder and press kisses up to just beneath his ear.

“I’m not letting you go that easy, honey,” you whisper, chuckling when he shivers. You spend another moment softly kissing and biting at his neck before speaking again, “Have you ever eaten anyone out?” You question, pulling back to look at him.

He shakes his head, his eyes flicking between both of yours as he looks up at you. “No.” He answers simply, his voice hardly a whisper.

You can’t help but smirk coyly and cock your head to the side, running a finger through the little patch of hair on his chest just to see him shudder. “You wanna try it?”

He nods eagerly and surprises you once again by quickly swinging you around, maneuvering you until your head rests on the pillows of your bed. You squeal at the movement, laughing with him as he settles over you, his narrow hips slotting easily between your thighs as you silently marvel at his unexpected strength, the shock of it going right between your legs.

“You want me to lick your pussy?” He asks lowly, grinning when he sees your eyes widen ever so slightly.

“You’re quite something, huh?” You breathe, still gazing up at him in surprise.

“Observant,” he shrugs, smirking as he sits up, kneeling between your legs, “You aren’t the only one who is, love.” He teases, quickly undoing his belt and trousers and groaning as he pushes them down his thighs, stopping at his knees.

Your eyes go wide at the size of his length, it’s clearly very impressive and it’s not even out of his plaid boxers yet. That smirk stays plastered on his face as he leans back down to hover over you, hastily removing his glasses and sitting them on your desk before sloppily kissing you for a moment, surprising you yet again by trailing wet kisses down your neck.

“Michael…” You sigh dreamily, arching your back toward him when he starts kissing over your chest. He groans from deep in his chest, mouth pressed against the fat of your breast.

“Fucking hell,” he curses, teasing your nipple again with the tip of his tongue, “Say it again, love.”

His simple command sends shivers down your spine and you mewl, squirming underneath him, “M-Michael!” You moan again, fumbling over your words as he sucks at your breast again before he lifts his head.

“Good girl,” he purrs with a sly, easy smirk that makes your heart jump, a soft sigh tumbling past your lips. He shifts further down the bed, kissing down over your ribs and stomach, his confidence seemingly growing every time he presses his lips against your skin; the thought makes your head spin.

Finally, he hooks his fingers into the lacy sides of your panties, and his eyes peer up at you as he tugs them down over your hips before flinging them onto the floor. “Oh, my God…,” he sighs, staring greedily at your pussy, a broken groan sounds from his throat when you spread your legs more.

You bite your lip and giggle, smiling shyly as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. “Like what you see?”

He nods his head rapidly, making you chuckle again as he stares up at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I… uh, w-what now?”

He’s so endearing, you can’t help the little sigh that leaves you and you sit up a little, leaning back on an elbow as you use your other hand to spread your center open. You bite your bottom lip once more when he whines a little, seeing you all spread out before him, flushed folds already slick and shiny.

“Lick here, honey,” you whimper as you skim your fingers over your clit, so keyed up from only a few kisses that you gasp a little when you feel yourself clench; Michael looks like he may pass out.

Ever the dutiful student, he gives you one last look before diving in. Your head falls back with a whiny gasp as his tongue snakes over your clit, just as you’d instructed. A long, shuddery moan leaves him, vibrating against your cunt and you watch as his blue eyes all but roll back in his head.

“Just like that, Michael,” you praise, tugging at his hair ever so slightly, which only serves to make him moan more. Your chest heaves as you watch him, determined not to let your eyes squeeze shut while he licks and kisses and sucks at your pussy like a man possessed, “Holy shit!” You whimper loudly when he pushes his tongue into you, groaning lowly when he feels your walls clench around it as he presses his nose perfectly against your clit.

“You taste so good,” he gasps, wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants. He peers up at you through blond lashes as he feasts on you, sucking eagerly at your clit and savoring the way you shiver and squirm from his motions.

Unbelievably, you already feel that warm, familiar tug in your belly beginning to grow, making your whole body feel flush and taut. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine urgently, grabbing onto his hair tighter and guiding his mouth exactly where you need it, your eyes finally rolling back and fluttering shut, “Holy fuck, don’t stop!”

Michael grunts as you tug at his hair, his own hips rutting greedily against your pretty bedding — cock throbbing so hard there’s no doubt he’s leaked through his boxers. He watches you carefully, studying your movements and reactions as best he can while he rhythmically licks at your clit.

“Oh, shit!” You cry not even a moment later, your whole body seeming to stutter as your muscles finally relax. You mewl as your high finally washes over you, savoring the way Michael groans into your cunt as he feels it contracting on his tongue. Your eyes stay squeezed shut as shivers roll up and down your spine, shuddered cries leaving your lips.

Just as his touches begin to border on overstimulation, you have enough wherewithal to push him away, and he releases your center with a lewd little pop.

“Was that good?” He asks through a breathless laugh, swallowing as he looks up at you, evidence of your arousal still shining on his lips and chin.

“Good?” You huff, eyebrows raised as you gaze down at him, “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?” You question in disbelief, chest still heaving.

He smiles shyly, already pink cheeks seeming to flush deeper from your praise as he chuckles. You cup his cheeks when he leans over you again, whimpering as you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re unbelievable.” You sign as he kisses down your neck again, making him chuckle against your skin.

“Just observant,” he grunts, shuddering when you wrap your legs around his trim waist. You gasp as his length brushes over your still sensitive pussy, impossibly hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his boxers. His fragmented sigh makes you smile and you tug his head up, blushing as you look up at him.

“You ready, honey?” You breathe, giggling when he nods his head again eagerly, his hips stuttering instinctually against your center. “Here, let me…” You trail off, the two of you separating for a moment as you lean over and pull open the top drawer of your desk, pulling out a pack of condoms and tearing one off before laying back down.

You watch enraptured as he kneels between your legs again, pulling down his boxers finally. “Holy…” you gasp when his cock finally bobs free, twitching up to rut against his lower stomach; he’s long and thick, curving a little as veins run up the underside, leading to a flushed, leaking head. He smiles shyly again at your attention as he shuffles awkwardly out of his trousers and underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor.

You hand him the condom and watch as he rolls it on, giving him a little reassuring smile as he does. Once it’s securely in place, you pull him back to you, eagerly kissing him once more and wrapping your legs securely around his waist. Both of you moan in unison when his length glides through your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit.

He pulls away with a little gasp, hovering over you as he glances down at your hips. “S-So, I just…” He trails off, watching as you reach down with one hand, grunting softly when you wrap your hand around his cock.

Carefully, you position him at your entrance and angle your hips a little. “Go on, honey,” you encourage with a soft smile, running your other hand over his chest.

Nodding once, he presses forward and swears he sees God. “F-Fucking hell,” he groans, loudly sighing your name as he carefully guides himself into you, absolutely in awe at the way your hot cunt grips him. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips resting firmly against yours as his chest heaves, breaths coming in short, sharp pants.

You aren’t fairing much better, head spinning at the way he splits you open, pressing incessantly at each and every sensitive spot within you. You pant against his neck as he stills, pressed deeply within you.

“D-Do… fuck, do I just…?” Michael stutters, giving half-hearted little thrusts to test the waters.

“Yes!” You answer instantly, anxiously nodding up at him as your hips wiggle against the bedsheets, making him swear and shudder above you, “Just move, honey, do what feels good.”

He groans again and gives a little nod before experimentally moving his hips again, pulling out more this time before pushing back in. “Shit,” he breathes above you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grunts with each roll of his hips.

You pant underneath him, spurring him on by pressing your feet against his backside, urging him to move faster and faster as the frilly lace from your socks tickles his pale skin. “You’re doing so, so good, oh, my God,” you breathe, your voice high-pitched and whimpery as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, knowing by now that it drives him crazy.

Above you, Michael’s hips slowly but surely begin to stutter, his thrusts starting to peter out as his breathing picks up. “I’m —!”

“Wait!” You blurt suddenly, smiling wickedly as he comes to a screeching halt, pushing himself up enough to stare down at you with wild eyes, “I have an idea…” You tease with a little giggle.

“W-What?”

“You have a phone, yeah?”

“…Yeah?”

“One that can, like, take video?”

“Yes?”

“Grab it,” you laugh, pushing him off of you with a laugh. He rolls his eyes with a smirk but does as you ask, clumsily pulling himself from your heat before stumbling over to where his khakis had landed. He shuffles about for a second before pulling a silver phone from the pocket of his trousers.

“Now what?” He asks curiously, positioning himself back between your thighs, cock twitching meanly.

“Film me.”

“What?!” He gapes at you, brows creased.

“Film me, honey,” you giggle, biting your lip conspiratorially, “For your little task, you need proof, yeah?”

“Well, yeah, b-but I can just take your panties or something, I don’t —“

“Or you could bring back something better…” You smirk, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “We don’t have to but… it could be kinda hot?”

He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking between you, your pussy, and the phone in his hand before he nods once, curtly. “We… we can try it.”

“Yeah? You wanna?”

“Yeah,” he quips, catching you by surprise as a mean little smirk spreads over his lips, “Wanna see the look on Catton’s face when he sees you creaming on my cock.”

Your eyes widen and you huff out a shocked laugh, a zing of electricity lighting behind your eyes. “You’re insane,” you say softly, an endeared smile on your lips.

He snickers, his whole demeanor seeming to change before your eyes as he transforms from this shy, stuttering boy into an astonishingly cocky man. “You like it, love,” he teases, grabbing his dick and positioning himself at your entrance yet again.

“Wait!” You giggle again, blushing as he groans.

“You don’t want to anymore?”

“No, no, not that,” you assure him, affectionately running your hand down one of his shockingly muscular arms, “You can film me… on one condition.”

“‘N what would that be?”

“Take me on a date.” You breathe, suddenly shy. You know he’ll agree to it, but even still, your heart pumps wildly in your chest.

He stares at you for a second, blinking dumbly as he processes your request. “You want me to take you on a date?” He asks, flushing so deeply that the soft pink hue cascades all the way down to his chest.

Giggling, you nod your head, giving his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You need to start giving yourself more credit, honey.”

He sighs at that, a little astounded huff, before he’s suddenly grabbing at your calves and pushing your legs up toward your shoulders, all but bending you in half, anxious to get his cock back into you. You gasp at the movement, and chuckle at his eagerness, a sound that morphs into a whiny moan when he slides back home.

“Christ,” he grunts, shoulders heaving as he gets used to the way you feel around him once more, “Y-You feel so good, love, fucking perfect.”

“You’re so big,” you whine, nodding as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, “You’re so good, Michael, you have no idea.”

He groans above you, hands shaking as he grabs for his phone, flipping it open and quickly opening the camera as his hips rut into you, making the springs of your bed creak softly.

As soon as Michael gives you a little nod to let you know he’s filming, you truly put on a show — or well, you at least stop trying to quiet yourself down and be conscientious of the people in the rooms next to you. The way he has your legs bent back makes him feel somehow bigger and causes his cock to hit that sensitive spot within you with pinpoint accuracy every time he thrusts in, making you clench around him and moan loudly each time he moves his hips against you.

You watch as he angles the camera down a bit, no doubt pointing it at the spot the two of you are joined together, letting the camera record his cock sliding in and out of you. When he moves it back up, however, to get your face as evidence, you plaster on the cheekiest grin you can muster.

“H-Hi boys,” you tease breathlessly, smirking as you lean up on one elbow. You wave with your other hand before blowing a kiss to the camera, which makes Michael cockily laugh.

“Fuck, I gotta…” he mutters after a few more seconds, carelessly dropping his phone down on the bed before roughly grabbing at your thighs with a bruising grip, one that makes you mewl and arch your back toward him. The two of you moan and whimper in unison as he begins thrusting wildly, seemingly too worked up to care about anything but cumming.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant over and over, head spinning as he bullies your sweet spot.

“That’s it, love,” Michael murmurs, his voice gruff and low as he stares down at you, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead; he looks wilder than you’ve ever seen him, the thought only serving to push you closer and closer to the edge. “S-Shit, that’s it. Fucking come for me, cream on my cock; please, please, please,” he murmurs, leaning down to press desperate kisses against your neck and collarbones.

The new position causes his pubic bone to rub deliciously over your clit, making you seize beneath him with a loud whine. Your toes curl, heels still pressing into the small of his back. “M-Michael, holy fuck!” You practically squeal as your high finally washes over you once more, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you go lax and pliant underneath him.

The feel of your walls pulsing around his cock has Michael reeling, his hips somehow thrusting even faster as he both desperately wants to cum while also never wanting this feeling to end. “C-Cum, honey, cum,” you pant softly, cupping his cheek with one hand and turning his face toward yours.

That does him in and the rubber band in his belly viciously snaps, making him shudder above you as his thrusts come to a halt, cock twitching wildly inside you as he empties himself into the condom. You watch him in awe, taking in every detail from the way his nose scrunches up as his eyes squeeze close to the way he whispers your name over and over like a prayer.

The two of you lay in silence for a moment, his breath warm against your neck as he slumps against you trying to catch his breath.

Eventually, you can’t help it anymore and let out a breathless giggle, which only intensifies when he props himself up on an elbow to peer down at you with a smirk.

“Something funny?”

“Just,” you breathe, trying to calm yourself enough to get words out, “Just… wow,” you finally say, giggles petering out as you look up at him, the soft gleam in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest.

“Good wow?” He blushes, looking down between the two of you as he pulls himself from your walls with a little hiss.

“Very, very good wow,” you confirm, grinning as you watch him pull off the condom before he peers up at you with a sheepish grin. “Tie it off, honey,” you instruct, smirking as he does just that, before nodding to the little wastebasket by your desk.

He gets up with a groan and quickly tosses the condom in the trash before turning back to you, the bashful look on his face making you blush.

Unable to resist, you grin at him and spread your arms with a giggle, wordlessly inviting him for a cuddle, which he gladly accepts. The bed creaks slightly as he lays back down, relaxing his head on the pillow just beside yours. Again, the two of you stay silent for a moment, content to merely gaze at one another, before he shyly looks away and sighs.

“I…,” he starts, blue eyes blinking and flitting around your room as he gathers his thoughts, “Thank you,” he finally says, looking back at you with a little half smile.

Your brows furrow at this as you grin at him. “What’re you thanking me for?”

“Well, f-for… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the two of you before sitting up just slightly and fishing around in the blankets for a second. “And this,” he sighs, holding his phone up before twisting around to set it on the corner of your desk, turning back to you. “I just… I know you didn’t have to, is all, so…”

You cock your head to the side as you prop yourself up on an elbow, eyes narrowing as you study him closely. “And people have the nerve to say I’m thick,” you joke, lips spreading into a wide grin as you gaze down at him, “I wanted to do all this, Michael. I’m the one that came onto you, remember?”

“W-Well, yeah, but —“

“No buts!” You laugh, pressing a finger against his lips as you shake your head, “I have eyes too, you know.”

“What does that mean?”

“You haven’t been the only one watching someone for months,” you giggle shyly, pressing your forehead against his, “I meant what I said about that date, too.”

His arms wind around your waist, holding you tight as he processes your words with a dumbstruck smile, blushing under your gaze. “Whatever you say, love,” he concedes finally, pressing his lips against yours sweetly.

He yawns tiredly when he pulls away from you after a moment, which only makes you yawn as well, and you glance over at the little clock on your dresser. “Christ,” you gasp, turning back to him, “I didn’t realize it’s already almost four… you can crash here, if you want?”

He considers it for a moment, knowing he has to be back in that stupid little basement by noon and making a mental map of where exactly your dormitory is in relation to the Merton College Chapel. “I… I can stay, yeah,” he finally nods after a moment.

“You’re sure?”

“Love, I’m not sure my legs work well enough yet to walk out of here anyway.”

Michael

Groaning, Michael slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them softly as he sits up in bed with a yawn. Blindly reaching over for his glasses, he’s confused when he doesn’t feel them in their usual spot and finally opens his eyes properly.

He stares, confused for a moment as to how exactly he somehow got transported into what appears to be Barbie’s damn dream house, before the events of last night come flooding back to him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes when he turns his head and sees your still-sleeping form beneath your flowery sheets, your hair tousled wildly on the pillow as your shoulders rise and fall evenly still with each breath. Looking around, he finally spots his glasses and puts them on before reaching for his phone, and cursing again when he sees the time.

11:47 AM.

He practically falls out of your bed as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets, and he hears you wake with a start behind him as he grabs wildly at his clothes on the floor.

“Michael?” You ask questioningly, your voice still hoarse from sleep as you, frankly fucking adorably, rub at your eyes before fixing him with a curious look.

“Gotta, shit, gotta run,” he explains quickly, cursing as he nearly loses his balance trying to tug his trousers on, “Need to be at Merton Chapel in, like, Christ, ten minutes!”

“Ohh,” you giggle softly, watching with amusement as he finishes getting dressed, hair and clothes so disheveled that he’s sure he looks like the very definition of the walk of shame.

Just as he’s tugging his shoes on and making a mad dash for the door, you stop him. “Here,” you smirk, holding out the same lacy pair of pink panties you wore last night, “For proof,” you explain, nodding to the phone in his hand, “Along with that. Should be more than enough,” you giggle proudly.

He smiled sheepishly as he pockets your underwear. “T-Thanks,” he nods, turning to leave before you stop him once more.

He can’t help but blush when you lean in and press and quick kiss to his lips, your cherry chapstick rubbing off on him some. Pulling away, you playfully smack his chest with a little grin. “Go get ‘em, honey.”

Nodding, he smiles again before finally pulling your door open and bounding down the hallway. “I’ll text you, love!” He calls, peering back just before he rounds a corner, “About that date!”

It’s 11:58 on the dot when he flings the basement door open, only to be pulled over to the same stupid dank basement wall, his back hitting it once more with a dull thud.

Glancing around, he sees the ski-masked boys again, all fifteen of them, standing in a row with the head boy slightly out of line. To his left stands one of the other initiates, clutching a black tube of some sort.

The basement stays silent for a moment before one of the masked boy’s watch alarms goes off just as the bells in the tower begin to chime.

Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Noon.

Right on cue, the head boy steps forward even more and looks between Michael and the other initiate. “Your friend couldn’t be bothered to show his face, then?” He asks, dark eyes peering at the boy next to Michael.

He scoffs and shakes his head, glaring at the head boy. “He’s still at the bank!” He snaps, “All the way in bloody Switzerland,” he kicks at the dirty stone floor as he explains, “Dickhead,” he finally mutters lowly under his breath.

“Shame,” the head boy quips, clasping his hands in front of his waist, “Some men are simply not cut out for Bullingdon.”

The boys in the row behind him nod knowingly, each making some little noise of affirmation until the head boy quickly stops them, holding a fist up by his head, bringing it back down to his side when they shut up.

“So, initiates, what’ve you got?”

The boy next to Michael steps forward first and hands the black tube to the head boy with a sigh. “There,” he says, gesturing to it, “There’s your bloody map. My mum could get sacked for that.”

The head boy pops open one end of the tube, a document sleeve Michael now realizes, and gingerly extracts a rolled up piece of parchment from it, unrolling it just enough to confirm it's what they asked for.

“Well done, initiate,” he nods, seemingly impressed as he flashes a smile at the boy, white teeth gleaming creepily through the slit in his ski mask. Carefully, he rolls the document up again before sliding it back in the tube, “Your commitment to Bullingdon will take you far. Welcome to the fray.”

The boy stands still for a moment, eyeing the document tube with an almost regretful expression before curtly nodding and taking his place back against the wall.

“And then there was one,” the head boy murmurs, dark faze fixed on Michael, “I seem to remember we gave you quite the… interesting task indeed, initiate. How did you manage?”

Smiling damn near arrogantly, Michael all but skips up the head boy and proudly pulls your panties from his back pocket, letting them dangle from his index finger. “See for yourself.”

The head boy grabs them by the edge and studies them for a moment, turning back to the row of boys behind him with a questioning glance. The boy Michael knows already to be that cunt, Oliver Quick, glances between him, the panties, and Michael, before cutting a sideways glance to a tall boy standing next to him.

“These could be anyone’s,” the head boy says, turning back to Michael as he shakes his head, “You could’ve nicked them from your sister or something, we’ll need more than this, initiate.”

“Don’t even have a sister,” Michael quips, shrugging his shoulders with a little frown.

“Okay, like, your cousin or something then –”

“Don’t have a female cousin,” he says with a shake of his head, “All boys.”

“The point still stands!” The head boy finally snaps, making Michael bite the inside of his cheek to hide a little laugh, though the corner of his lips still quirks up in a smirk, “You haven’t got any proof, do you? Is that why you’re stalling?”

Huffing a little laugh, Michael finally lets himself smirk meanly and steps closer to the head boy as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flips it open, and navigates to his video gallery. “Is this enough proof?” He teases, pressing play on the most recent video.

The picture is small and grainy but there’s no doubt as to what’s happening as the sound of your pretty whimpers and moans echoes around the brick basement, along with the wet smack of Michael’s cock driving into you again and again.

The head boy stares at the screen still as curiosity gets to a few of the boys in the row behind him and they all come crowd around Michael’s phone, eyes widening behind their ski masks and mouths falling open.

The tallest one, the one Oliver keeps glancing at, lets out a long sigh as he peers down at the small screen and brings a hand up to his head as if he were going to run it through his hair before remembering the mask he has on. With him this close, Michael finally notices the little silver barbell stuck through his eyebrow and shivers as his lips curl up into a sadistic Cheshire cat smile, a tidal wave of savage pride crashing through his system.

Finally, fucking finally, I get something he wants, he thinks as your breathy moans continue to pour from the speaker of his phone, tinny and muffled in some spots where he’d accidentally covered the microphone, but beautiful, beautiful and because of him.

After a moment, the video ends, the tiny phone screen reverting back to it’s little thumbnail as the head boy peers up at Michael, the rest of the club members taking their places back in line, though he can’t help but notice that Felix’s broad shoulders are slumped now and Oliver stands ever closer to him, like some kind of fucked up bodyguard.

“I’ll be damned, initiate,” the head boy sighs with a shake of his head, “I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

He watches as Michael merely nods and pockets his phone again, holding it tightly in his fist even still. After a second, he smiles widely and claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.

“Welcome to Bullingdon.”

Some time later, Michael finally exits the basement, a few of the club members, sans ski masks now, nodding goodbye to him as they disperse across campus, meeting adjourned.

He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting from the initial meeting but it was mostly them prattling on about where exactly they had all their grubby little fingers, poked in seemingly every facet of society from Parliament to local newspapers.

Braggy cunts, Michael thinks as he ambles outside, glancing up at the sky as he steps into the Mob Quad, surrounded by stony old buildings.

Smiling to himself, he pulls out his phone and quickly finds your number in his contacts list, blushing when he sees you’ve taken the liberty of adding some girly heart emoticon next to it. He hardly has time to press it against his ear before you answer.

“Well?” You demand with that now familiar giggle, some unfamiliar pop song playing in the background.

“I’m in,” he confirms, nodding to himself as he slowly walks in the direction of his dormitory, “Thanks to you.” He smiles like an idiot when you laugh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” you tease, he can picture your bright, glossy smile in his head, “You earned that spot.”

Michael merely shakes his head with a happy little sigh. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “About that date… I was thinking the King’s Arms? Tonight at six, if that works?”

“Oooh, tonight at six,” you repeat teasingly, an image flashing in his mind of you twirling your hair around a perfectly manicured finger, “Someone’s quite eager, hm?”

“Can you blame me?”

“Hmm, I suppose not,” you giggle, pausing for a second, “It’s a date then.”

“Fantastic,” Michael sighs, trying with every fiber of his being to sound casual and cool about the whole thing, even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest.

“See you tonight, Mr. Bullingdon,” you tease, making a little kissy sound into the phone before hanging up.

Michael pauses for a moment, standing to the side on the pavement as he nods to himself. If it weren’t so fucking cheesy, he’d raise his fist in the air, victorious, à la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club.

Instead, he flips his phone back open and navigates back to your video. Sighing, he stares at the little thumbnail for a second before deleting it, pocketing his phone once more, and continuing back to his dormitory.

He has the real thing now.

taggled lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

3K notes · View notes

yellowharrington · 7 months

Text

sugar sweet -- carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader, the bear fx

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: brief mention of body image issues (not towards reader) and suicide (mikey's death), eating dessert and a lot of food talk, gn!reader (but mention of wearing heels), use of y/n briefly in texts. reader is mentioned as an accountant or adjacent professional person and smoking is mentioned (reader and carmy). please let me know if i missed anything :)

a/n: hey team !! i hope y'all enjoy this fluffy little blorbo about carmy's birthday bc i needed to write about being soft to him. this is an old wip i finally finished so pls rb and leave feedback and comments ily

summary: it's carmy's birthday and you want to make it special for him again.

-`♡´-

It’s not that Carmy doesn’t like his birthday.

No, it’s not that.

It’s just that he’s never had a good one.

When he was 9, his mom tried to make him a birthday cake. French vanilla, with buttercream icing, multicoloured sprinkles on top. But she had somehow managed to get so frustrated that she had thrown the whisk across the kitchen, the burnt cake thrown in the sink, and taken to the backyard for her millionth cigarette of the day. She was breaking down, as usual, and Carmy was the one that had to go out and rub her back and tell her it was fine. That he was fine, that he didn’t matter, and no, she didn’t ruin his birthday.

When he was 13, he ended up spending the afternoon consoling Natalie in her bedroom, after his mom had again, made a backhanded comment about her body. That yeah, she’d gained weight in her midsection, and yeah, the stress was showing on her hips. She was sobbing into her pillows, clutching her pink sheets and wailing, leaving Carmy with nothing to do but kiss her on the cheek and leave her alone. He assured her, again, that he was fine, that he didn’t matter, and no, she didn’t ruin his birthday.

And when he’s 24 and scrubbing the floors of The Beef at midnight, sweat dripping down his forehead and into the collar of his shirt. Michael had just died, so yeah, it was a little raw. The fluorescent lights were beating down on his back as he dumped hot soapy water on the floor and scrubbed everything away. Scrubbed away his memories, every Christmas with his brother, every screaming match. He let it all go down the drain. He’s assured himself that he’s fine, he didn’t matter, and no, Michael’s fucking suicide would not ruin his birthday.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

He meets you later that year. Sitting in the park, doing a crossword at 7:00am, your BEC and hot coffee cooling off on the bench beside you. You’re obviously a professional of some kind: tight black slacks and a matching blazer, white dress shirt stretched over your torso, hair pristinely styled. Black heels, he notices, that you’ll switch out in the middle of the day because they squeeze your toes.

When he sits beside you, you don’t pay him any mind. He’s disheveled, sandy curls pushed back on his head, a grey crewneck sweater over a white t-shirt, collar peaking through at the neck. He sets his identical breakfast next to yours, taking out a cigarette and slipping it between his lips. You look over when he flicks his lighter, a soft exhale leaving his nose. “Oh, sorry,” he takes the cigarette from his lips and wafts the smoke away. “I forgot not everyone in this city smokes.”

You smiled tightly, nodding, letting yourself relax onto the back of the bench. “I don’t mind.” He nodded back to you, letting his hand rest on his knee as he took another drag. “Anything worth reading in there today?” He gestures to the newspaper balanced on your knee. You look at him again, shrugging your shoulders, only to tap your pen against the side of your leg. “No, there never is. I just do the crosswords. You wouldn’t happen to know a 4 letter word for ‘kitchen second in command’, would you?”

He laughs a little, taking another slow drag. “Sous?” You look down at the newspaper, penning in the small boxes, sitting back to smile at him. “Thank you,” you raise your coffee cup to him. “‘m a chef, over at The Beef in River North,” he has a mouthful of his sandwich now, as he points in the general direction of the restaurant. “Oh, yeah, I think you guys catered one of our events one time. It’s like, sandwiches and stuff, right?” He nods, taking a sip of coffee. You follow after him, letting the hot coffee touch your lips.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I, uh, just took it over. It’s kind of a shit show right now but we’re tryna fix it.” You unwrap the sandwich and sink your teeth into the soft bagel, covering your mouth before beginning to speak. “What happened to the guy who used to own it? Did you just buy it off of him, or what?”

“He died,” he says, deadpan, letting the cigarette come between his lips again. “He was my brother and uh, yeah - he died.” You nod at your own embarrassment, at the thought of asking a random stranger about his dead brother by accident. “Oh, I didn’t-uh, God - sorry,” you stammer, letting yourself turn towards him. “It’s fine,” he waves the smoke away again. “It’s not a big deal.” You almost laugh at his demeanour, so nonchalant. You pull a cardholder out of your blazer pocket, the small clasp opening. Cream cardstock, black writing - a business card, handing it over to him, but not before scribbling your personal number on the back. “If you need anything, accounting related or otherwise, call me.” He takes it and looks for a second, raising his eyebrow at the pristine card. “I can’t afford you,” he laughs. “No charge. Thanks for the help on the crossword…” you wait expectantly for a name. “Oh, Carmen. Carmy,” he finishes. “Nice to meet you.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

It had been a few months since your first meeting. Now, you chose to spend almost every Sunday with him - his one day off. He’d usually make you breakfast, sometimes an omelette with gouda cheese and chives, or fluffy pancakes with a berry compote and homemade whipped cream. For a man that cooked all day, every day, he certainly didn’t mind making any meals for you, especially when you woke up next to him in his old t-shirt and nothing underneath.

You’d known Carmy for long enough now to have pieced together the whole story - a few nights here and there coming around The Beef after closing had granted you the pleasure of meeting Richie, who Carmy affectionately called Cousin. “He’s a little fucked up,” Richie had told you behind the slightly ajar door of the office, as you sat and waited for Carm to finish up. “With Mikey and everything. He won’t let ‘ya know, but he is. I’m happy he’s got somebody,” he looks back at the kitchen, the usual pots and pans clanging behind him. “You didn’t hear it from me, but it’s his birthday on Sunday,” Richie gets closer to you, his hand coming closer. “Back up Richie,” “Sorry. Force of habit. Do not tell him I told you. Take it to your grave. He likes red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing like a little bitch boy, they’re his favourite, alright?” You nod, looking to see if he was anywhere near. “Heard.”

You catch Marcus on the way out while Carmy fucks with something else in the kitchen. “Hey, Marcus,” you grab his arm, right before he’s about to put a headphone in and start on his way home. “Hey, what’s good?” “I need a red velvet cake recipe. And a cream cheese icing recipe. And a walk through of how to bake a batch of cupcakes. Please.” He nodded slightly, looking down at his phone. “I’ll text you what I’ve got. Is it a special occasion?” You look over at Carmy, who was wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, uh, it is.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Marcus had let you borrow a few cupcake pans and a package of liners, as well as his KitchenAid stand mixer for the batter. You’d gathered all of the ingredients from the recipe he’d given you, set everything up in your tiny apartment kitchen on the Saturday before Carmy’s birthday, furiously mixing wets and drys in different bowls, sifting flour and separating egg whites from yolks. The cigarette was taught between your lips, tank top strap falling off your shoulder as you slowly began to mix the batter together.

[Carmen] 11:18pm

Hey

How are you baby?

Just finishing up here

You flicked the cigarette ash onto the fire escape as you nodded your head in rhythm with the song on the speaker, letting the batter mix in the background as you started to sift the powdered sugar into the clean bowl. You weren’t even looking at the time until you heard the familiar chime of your phone, sticky floury hands grabbing your cell phone to see the text from Carmy.

“Shit, fuck,” you turned the mixer off, putting the remnants of your cigarette out in the sink.

[(Y/N) personal] 11:26pm

Hey, just busy right now

Will text in a bit

Love you

When Carmy reads the text he’s a little… surprised to say the least. For you to have plans on a Saturday night was not unheard of by any means, but it wasn’t what he was expecting. Anxiety creeped up a little, because what could you be doing at 11:30pm?

[Carmen] 11:27pm

Love you too

You ok?

[(Y/N) personal] 11:27pm

Of course

Come over when you’re done

A smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he continues to wipe down the stainless steel counter in front of him, nearly spotless already. Most of the other crew has gone home, save for Marcus in his station proofing his donuts for tomorrow and Richie texting someone at the expo line. He slips his phone in the pocket under his apron, undoing the knot on the back and dropping it in the hamper by the back door. “You guys can lock up, yeah?” Carmy calls, seeing Marcus nod at him and bid him goodnight with a small wave. “Heard,” Richie calls. “‘Night, cousin.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Carmy had called a few times, your phone ringing and ringing, but the chaotic kitchen had forced you to miss the calls. It was past midnight now, and you’d spent your whole day in the kitchen, the night getting away from you way quicker than you had intended. You had a small box in your bedside table, a thin gold chain you hadn’t wrapped for him yet, and your apartment was a fucking mess. Pans and bowls strewn across every surface, flour on the floors and walls, and somehow, and you had cream cheese icing under your fingernails. It was a bit of a mess.

When the icing was done, you managed to squeeze some on the tops of the cupcakes just in time to hear the lock on your door click. You stood, silently, as you heard Carmy quietly kick off his boots. He thought you might be sleeping.

Ha, far from it.

“Babe?”

When he rounded the corner, it was a sight to see for sure. Your hands twisted around a makeshift pastry bag, which was really a ZipLoc with a hole cut in the bottom. Apron tied in a bow around your waist, only accentuating the curves of your body. Carmy drinks you in.

“What are you doing?”

You looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

“Baking.”

“Yeah. I see that.”

He stepped forward tentatively, an amused smile on his face. His hand reached to the small of your back, a kiss adorning your cheek.

“Why are you baking?” He takes a finger to the end of the bag, sticking it in his mouth and marvelling at the taste. “Why are you killing it at baking?”

You smiled. “Don’t be mad.”

His eyebrow cocked, noticing the desserts in front of him, really, for the first time since he stepped in the door.

“Fucking Richie,” his hand found his forehead. “Fucker.”

“Happy Birthday, Carm.” You let the bag of icing flop on the stovetop, while your arms wrapped around his neck. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, slotting them together to quiet the thoughts in his mind. You started to pepper kisses all over his face and neck, giggling between them, before he couldn’t help but burst into laughter himself.

“He told me they were your favourite, and I asked Marcus for a recipe and I haven’t tried one yet, even!” the words tumbled out of your mouth as he pulled you impossibly closer, swaying a little with you in his arms.

“Sorry. Richie told me not to make a dig deal, I just thought,” you shrugged, letting your hands slide down his biceps and tracing the faded tattoos there with your pointer finger. “I thought we could make it special again. If you want.”

The wild look in your eyes was enough to have him push forward again, lips crashing into lips, the amalgamation of all the tastes from his day on your tongue.

“Thank you.” He peers over your shoulder at the cupcakes, still in the tin, suddenly very interested in tasting the fruits of your labour.

“Should we try these?” His hand drops effortlessly to your waist, letting his body push past yours. He picks up a cupcake, handing one to you and ‘cheers’ing them playfully. He unwrapped the foil on the outside, sinking his teeth into the soft, sweet dessert.

“Mmmh,” he moans, letting his eyes roll back into his head slightly. “Wow,” the red colour coats his teeth. “Yeah.”

You nod along with him, your own teeth sinking in. “Oh yeah, I kinda killed it with these.”

“Hm, wait,” you put the cupcake down, pushing past him. You take the opportunity to put your hand on his broad back, feeling the muscles underneath.

When you return, he’s licking the rest of the icing off of his fingers. The way his lips wrap around his fingers makes your breath hitch.

“Before you say anything, it’s just small, if you hate it you can return it, blah blah blah…” you trail off, but you can’t hide the excitement across your features.

He pulls open the clamshell box, the gold chain reflecting against the warm lights of the kitchen and dancing along the walls. His lips part slightly, forming an “o” shape, with surprise.

“You’re…” he seems genuinely speechless. Carmy usually isn’t a man of many words, anyway, but this was noticeably different.

“Do you like it?” Your bottom lip is folded under your teeth in anticipation, eyes flickering up to meet his.

“You’re perfect,” is all he can say, and you swear you can see his eyes get a little glassy.

“Aw, well, don’t get soft on me now,” you let your arms wrap around him once again, pulling him into a hug this time. Your head fits perfectly into his chest, smelling the distinct scent of his signature cologne, long now covered by the smells of the restaurant. Him.

His nose fits perfectly into the crook of your neck as he leans down, deepening the hug to pull you in impossibly close. His lips latch onto the soft spot beneath your ear, enraptured by your presence.

For the first time in his life, Carmy is actually going to have a good birthday.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

#carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy x you #the bear fx fanfic #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fanfic

530 notes · View notes

yellowpsyduck · 8 months

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning: Smut

Her dress was white like the Arctic Snow.

Her cheeks were red like the Chrysler Imperial.

A glance was all it took for one to deduce that Y/N Elliot stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of greys in the grimy streets of Birmingham.

With her short tight curls and her eyes that seemed untinged with the horrors that plagued the notorious English town, she was a sight to behold.

Mr. Elliot was the preacher at the local Presbyterian Church, but his daughter evoked the urge to sin in the minds of the lads of the town.

And again, a glance was all it took for one to fixate upon this seemingly other worldly apparition that roamed the streets of Birmingham with her teasing smile and her plump red lips.

And Thomas Michael Shelby was no exception.

Soon the occasional glances that he threw her way should they ever cross paths turned into waiting by the front of her house to escort her to finishing school, much to the dismay of the girl’s father.

The young Elliot girl was infatuated with the older man. The boys that previously courted her couldn’t hold a candle to his suave. With his cigarettes and his well pressed suits, Tommy Shelby was simply a dream come true for the impressionable girl.

She couldn’t care less about her parents’ disapproval of their relation, nor did she care about what the towns folk had to say.

‘He loves me, and I love him and that’s all that matters’ she assured herself each night.

The two soon became inseparable, the leader of the Peaky blinders even barged inside the school and pulled his darling out of the classroom simply because he ‘missed’ her. The teachers and staff knew better than to obstruct the infamous gangster.

The two went to the fair that day. He bought her all the dainty little trinkets that her heart desired. She didn’t go easy on the spending too; she knew his pockets wouldn’t hurt from her silly purchases.

And for his kind generosity, she rewarded him with her first kiss.

A simple kiss on the lips; that’s how it started but it soon turned heated and passionate.

It goes without saying that she lost her purity to him, right in the backseat of the black Ford.

Still clad in her school attire, she sat on his lap with his hands encircling her lithe waist.

He left a trail of kisses down her exposed collarbone, his hands working to unbutton her shirt which her mother had carefully pressed that morning.

The chemise underneath soon found itself discarded on the floor of the vehicle.

Her pink coloured bra was on full display for him. The more conservatively fashioned fabric did little to hide the fullness of the plump breasts underneath.

Her breath was shallow as she looked at him with those beautiful doe eyes of hers.

Her cheeks tinted with arousal and her eyes misty with desire.

She was a sight to behold as she guided his hand to cup her left breast, telling him that she was ready.

Tommy couldn’t contain himself any longer and his fingers found themselves unclasping the fabric that shielded her modesty. He sucked with urgency on her perky nipples while he kneaded the other, giving equal attention to both of those glorious mounds.

Y/N was a squirming mess. She loved the feeling of his hot mouth as he showered her with his touch.

She could feel her panties dampen with each passing second. No boy had ever made her this hot and bothered.

She needed more of him. She needed his touch.

Tommy could feel the wetness on his thighs as the girl began grinding herself on his thighs.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased with a raspy drawl.

God! This girl was driving him crazy.

He continued trailing his kisses down her stomach and halted at the waistband of her skirt.

He swiftly tossed the heavy garment aside along with her garter and knickers.

She was on full display for him. For him and his eyes only.

He couldn’t peel his eyes off her body.

She had bewitched him.

Sure, Thomas Shelby had been with his fair share of women before her, but he had never felt so strongly for any woman before, nor did he think he could ever.

Not after this.

Not after her.

His thumb slid across her clit, eliciting a beautiful moan from her.

Gently, he prodded her glistening hole with a finger.

She was too tight.

He thrusted his finger inside her as she coated him in her lewd liquid.

Now two fingers.

He was thrusting her insides with just two fingers, yet it completely filled her up.

She was a panting mess.

She could feel his now bulging erection poking against her bare butt.

Just as she could find her release, he extracted his fingers from the throbbing pussy, making her cry in desperation.

“Tommy please.” she purred as she met his pale blue irises. She was a whimpering, desperate mess.

“Just a minute darling.” he assured her as he hurriedly unbuckled his belt and freed his pulsating swollen cock.

Y/N wasn’t sure how he was going to fit his fat cock inside her tight pussy, but she didn’t care anymore. All she wanted was for him to fill her up and make love to her.

He carefully lined his cock that was leaking with precum to her entrance and gently entered her hole.

Just the tip was in and even then, Y/N was threatening to spill teardrops from her lustful eyes.

“It’ll only hurt for a second, Darling.” he whispered in her ear as he forced himself inside of her virgin cunt.

Y/N was seeing stars.

Oh! The pain and the pleasure; both feelings intertwined as she felt him thrusting inside of her giving rise to this otherworldly feeling of ecstasy.

Tommy couldn’t control himself inside of her as he pounded into her.

Her tight pussy was driving him mad with pleasure.

He could see the scarlet testament of her purity flowing down her thighs as he corrupted her innocence.

She was his.

No one else’s.

The two continued their lovemaking, completely engulfed in the throngs of their union.

That night, as they lay in the meadow on the English countryside, with his hands around her and her head on his chest, they looked up at the sky that bear witness to their passions.

And that faithful day, Thomas Shelby made a woman out of Y/N Elliot.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders smut #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x y/n #fanfic #smut

575 notes · View notes

ewanmitchellcrumbs · 3 months

Text

Tempest

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader (third person, no use of y/n) Warnings: Very brief mention of drug use, heavy petting. Word count: ~2k

Summary: Michael provides shelter when they get caught in a downpour, and reveals some uncomfortable truths.

Author's note: Happiest of birthdays to @dreamymoomin // @in-a-mountain-pool - hope you enjoy this little gift! No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

It’s mid June in Oxford, a time when the air hangs thick and humid, the rain showers and storms as frequent as the blazing sunshine and cloudless skies. It’s an odd time of year, the feeling of transition as apparent in the weather as it is in the nearing finality of the end of term.

Exams have descended upon the students of every course, and while everyone studies hard, the need to let off steam is as burgeoning as the pressure in the atmosphere that promises thunder and lightning. The parties get wilder with every weekend that passes, a celebration of the turning in of coursework, completion of written assessments and an undeniable sense of finality; first year is drawing to its close.

She steps out of the wine shop on Turl Street, the nicest bottle she could find for under seven pounds wrapped delicately in navy blue tissue paper. Her friends in this city are of a different breed to what she’s used to back home; turning up to a party with a litre bottle of cider or a four pack of WKD Blue is social suicide. There is an unspoken, but incredibly obvious air of refinement, and if your face doesn’t fit then you’re destined for an incredibly lonely three years.

So, she has learned to play along. Turn up with fancy wine, pretend she’s one of them, until Felix and Farleigh show up with a wrap of cocaine and a bottle of Jägermeister, and things inevitably degenerate. They always degenerate. She makes her excuses and leaves whenever they arrive, she knows better now, having attempted to keep up in her first week, and then waking up the following day with an impending sense of dread and a general feeling of sickness that had continued to outstay its welcome after two days.

The social protocols are something she has perfected to a fine art; turn up, bring a bottle, ensure people see you, talk just enough to ensure you’re invited back next time, and then leave before things get too messy. It’s lonely, exhausting, and utterly unfulfilling, but it’s better than the alternative of being ostracised from her course mates.

As her feet land upon the pavement from the shop doorway, the sky blackens. Thick, grey clouds roll overhead and she looks up just in time to feet the first raindrop splash upon her cheek. Shit.

The sudden downpour makes her gasp, and though Trinity College is only a five minute walk away, she knows she’ll be drenched by the time she makes it back, so she runs in the direction of the Brasenose, seeking shelter beneath the covered entryway as she waits for the rain to pass.

She shivers, hair sticking to her neck, cursing under her breath as she watches the tissue paper that had been covering her wine bottle disintegrate in her hands. She shuffles to the side as she spots someone in her peripheral vision step beneath the entryway, giving them space as they lower the jacket they had been holding over their head.

“You’re not staying at this college.”

The brusque statement isn’t a question, it’s almost accusatory, and she snaps her head up, looking into the face of a person she recognises, but doesn’t know the name of.

“No…sorry,” she utters, awkwardly turning her bottle in her hands as more paper sloughs off of it. “Just waiting for the rain to pass.”

The rectangular glasses, sandy coloured hair and angular features are unforgettable. She had seen this guy hanging around with Oliver Quick towards the start of term and in the lead up to Christmas. When they’d all come back from break, she’d stopped seeing them together. Considering that Oliver now hung around Felix Catton like a shadow, it wasn’t hard to guess what had happened. She felt sorry for him.

“You could be standing here for a while,” he tells her.

She watches as a droplet of rain drips from the cleft of his nose, before her eyes flicker up to his. “Better than getting soaked on the walk back to Trinity.”

He hums under his breath, regarding her warily. “You could make it back in under five hundred steps if you walked quickly.”

“Or you could invite me in until the rain passes,” she replies hopefully, her eyes meeting his.

She watches him carefully as he blinks once, twice, three times, his mouth twisting in a mixture of confusion and apprehension as he considers her proposition. She is certain he’s going to refuse, until he utters a clipped “fine”, before turning to open the door.

Following him in and up the staircase, she wonders why she had been so bold. There is no denying she is curious about him, the maths genius that everyone says had shouted “fucking ask me a sum then!” during the Fresher’s dinner, but she would never ordinarily ask a complete stranger to allow her into their room. He’s not even leading her to the common area.

As the door to his room clicks closed behind her, she takes in her surroundings. It could not be more different to the rooms of other boys she has visited during her time at Oxford. It’s clean, tidy to the point of being orderly, everything has its place. The bedspread is pulled taut against the mattress, pens and pencils are lined up perfectly straight next to the neat pile of notebooks on the desk.

She feels her skin heat up when she sees him standing there staring at her. She hasn’t even introduced herself.

“Sorry,” she says, giving her name with an embarrassed smile, “probably should have told you that before inviting myself up. And you are?”

“Michael,” he says, “Michael Gavey.”

He reaches for her hand to shake it, but withdraws upon seeing the soggy blue tissue paper it’s coated in, and she silently prays for the ground to swallow her up as fresh humiliation burns hotly through her.

“Here,” he says, passing her a towel that had been carefully folded over the back of a chair, “dry yourself off.”

She gives a quiet thanks, setting her bottle down on the bedside table, before toweling her face, hair and hands. It smells faintly of Head and Shoulders shampoo, and it’s oddly comforting.

Passing the towel back, she busies herself with opening the wine as Michael works to dry himself. Using the end of a fork that has been left upon the bedside table, she pushes the cork through into the bottle.

“What are you doing?”

She looks up, watching as he wipes at the lenses of his glasses with a cleaning cloth. He’s actually quite beautiful without them, less severe looking, his eyes are strikingly blue. Forcing herself to avert her gaze, she replies: “well, I can’t see a corkscrew.”

“No, I mean, why are you opening it?”

She gives an easy shrug. “Something to do while we wait for the rain to stop.”

Taking a swig of the cheap chardonnay, she winces slightly and holds it out to him. He hesitates, eyes shifting between the bottle and her, before he tentatively reaches out to take it from her. His own face contorts in disgust as he drinks, causing her to laugh.

“Only the finest for five pounds fifty!”

“Christ,” he winces, passing it back to her. “So, what are you reading?”

“History of art,” she replies, slugging from the wine bottle once more.

“Fucking hell,” he scoffs derisively, mouth turning up into a sneer.

“Oh fuck off,” she shoots back playfully, perching herself on the edge of his bed. “We can’t all be maths geniuses.”

He eyes her curiously. “How do you know I’m reading maths?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Recognition flickers in his eyes for a moment and she sees a tinge of pink flush his cheek, as he averts his gaze in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts hurriedly. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s impressive, really, it is.”

“I don’t need one of Felix Catton’s vapid cunts to validate me,” he retorts, his tone suddenly icy.

Her brows arch, eyes widening as the comment hits her like a slap to the face. “I’m not…I’m not making fun of you,” she says quietly, “and Felix isn’t my friend, not that that’s any of your business.”

He narrows his eyes at her, putting his glasses back on. “Well, go on then.”

“What?”

“Ask me a sum. You’ve been dying to since you first saw me.”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t going–”

“Just do it,” he interrupts with a sigh.

She chews her lip hesitantly, placing the wine bottle on the bedside table, before leaning back on her palms against the bed as she sits on its edge. “Alright. Two hundred and eighty four divided by sixteen?”

“Seventeen and three quarters,” he replies instantaneously.

It shocks her, he doesn’t really even have to take time to think about it.

“I’ve got no way of verifying if that’s correct,” she says, chuckling nervously.

“Hmm, why don’t we even the playing field then?” He says, coming to sit beside her.

She feels her breath hitch as the mattress dips beside her, his closeness making the humidity of the air seem hotter still.

“What do you mean?”

“You ask me a maths question, I’ll ask you a question, and it’s up to us if we believe each other’s answer.”

“Art history questions?”

“What do you think?” He shoots her a withering look.

“What sort of questions then?”

“Just ones about you. You’re in my room, after all, makes sense for me to get to know you.”

She swallows thickly, nodding. “Okay, that seems fair.”

“So, why aren’t you friends with Felix Catton?”

“I don’t like him,” she says honestly.

“Why not?”

“That’s two questions.”

“Just answer it.”

She wets her lips, considering her answer. It’s not something she’s ever really even admitted to herself before, let alone said aloud to another person. “I–I don’t like how he makes me feel…about myself.”

“Your turn.”

She turns her face towards him, noticing how close they’re sitting together. The smell of Head and Shoulders shampoo is more fragrant on him than it had been on the towel. “Eighty eight times ninety one?”

His skin breaks out into gooseflesh at the feeling of her breath upon it, and she smiles to herself as she watches him shift upon the bed, his answer slower than the first time. “Eight thousand and eight.”

He looks at her, his face so close to hers their noses almost touch. “Why do you hang out with Felix’s friends if you don’t like him?”

Exhaling shakily, she dips her face into the crook of his neck, feeling him tense beneath her touch, the proximity causing her own heartbeat to quicken. “Because I don’t want to be lonely,” she whispers. She ghosts her lips tentatively against the flesh of his neck, delighting in the way he shivers. “Six hundred times three hundred and twenty one?”

When he breathes out, it’s audible, the faintest hint of a whimper carrying alongside the expulsion of air. “One hundred and ninety two thousand, six hundred,” his voice is strained as he replies, an indication that he’s struggling.

He reaches across, long slender fingers gripping her thigh, out of desire to touch her or simply to ground himself, she is unsure, but she takes the initiative, slinging her leg over his lap. She can feel the rapid hardening of him through the fly of his cargo shorts.

“Why did you want to come up today?” He whispers, turning his head, nuzzling into her still damp hair.

“To get out of the rain,” she utters, gripping the front of his t-shirt as though it’s a lifeline.

“Liar, the rain’s stopped now.”

The darkness of his tone causes her core to squeeze involuntarily, excitement making her tummy flutter. “I was curious about you, you seem lonely too.”

“Do you want to stay?”

“That’s two questions,” she chides, pulling back, resting her forehead against his.

“Answer me,” he insists, his grip on her thigh tightening.

As she looks at him, his pupils dilated, full lips parted, she knows she has no intention of going to the party later. From the moment she met Michael, her plans had changed without her ever being aware of it.

“Yes, I want to stay.”

He leans in, lips pressing feverishly against hers, and as she kisses back, savouring the taste of cheap white wine upon his mouth, it feels as though the pressure has finally lifted. She hopes it rains forever.

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey #ewan mitchell #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x you #michal gavey x y/n #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fan fic #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey saltburn #saltburn michael gavey #saltburn #satlburn fan fiction #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fan fic

348 notes · View notes

keerysfreckles · 11 months

Text

safe haven - mike schmidt

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike schmidt's next door neighbor seems on edge when she knocks on his front door. the reason being remains unknown, until mike orders a pizza and lets the scared girl stay the night.

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, mentions of an abusive and toxic relationship, slight cursing

michael schmidt wasn't used to any of his neighbors knocking on his door. the only interactions being simple waves while getting the mail, or nods of their heads when they drive by.

mike instantly recognized his next door neighbor as he opens the front door. he's seen her plenty of times before, but the two haven't spoken to each other.

he notices her shaken up appearance, as her loose t-shirt hangs off one shoulder, and the grey sweatpants on her hips are barely tied. her hair is down, but the baby hairs by her forehead are erratically skewed.

"hello?"

mike's simple gretting takes the girl out of her trance. she kept looking between mike and her own front door. she fiddled with her hands before responding.

"yes, hi, uh- look i know we've never really talked before, but can i please stay here for an hour? two at most," y/n pleads, her eyes never faltering from her front door, with worry filling her pupils.

mike nods, before opening his door so y/n can walk inside, "are you alright?"

y/n's fast to shake her head, "no, um- no not really."

mike doesn't think he's ever seen her like this. "do you want something to drink? or a snack or something?"

"just water, please," y/n shuffles awkwardly by the kitchen counter, as she watches mike grab a glass and fill it was tap water.

y/n's grateful once the cool liquid flows down her throat. all of the screaming she had just done really did some damage on her throat.

mike couldn't help but notice the small bruises covering her wrists, and the giant red mark on her neck as she tilted her head back to drink the water.

"do you want to talk about anything? you seem on edge," mike offers, as he leads the two to the living room. he sits on the couch, and y/n sits down beside him.

just as y/n opens her mouth to respond, abby comes running down the hallway, a notebook in one hand and colored pencils in the other.

"who are you?"

abby's bluntness throws y/n off gaurd, causing her to laugh. she can't even remember the last time she laughed.

"abbs, this is our neighbor, y/n. she's gonna hang out here for a bit," mike tells abby, watching as she sits at the coffee table in front of the couch.

mike and y/n both turn their attention to the tv, which is playing reruns of a sitcom. they both felt it wasn't the most appropriate time to talk about y/n's situation while abby was in the room.

"what are those marks on your wrist from?" abby suddenly asks, catching both adults off gaurd.

"oh, uh, they're from bracelets i had on earlier. guess they were too tight." mike took notice of the way y/n's voice shook at the end of her response.

"hey abby, why don't you go back to your room and draw something for y/n. yeah?" mike offers his sister, who nods in return, before she walks down the hallway back to her room.

"you don't have to talk about anything by the way. i'm not gonna force you," mike spoke softly, not wanting to scare y/n more than she already was.

y/n's knee started to shake and her voice wavered as she responded, "my boyfriend- well ex-boyfriend now uh- he got too much. everything was fine until last month when he started to get aggressive."

mike's eyes slightly widened.

"at first it was only verbally. but when i came home last week, he hit me because i stayed late at work. i tried to tell him why, but he just wouldn't listen," y/n's eyes started to water as she remembers the events that took place.

"today was just so bad. i had to get out of there before he did anything worse," y/n finally looks up at mike, and sees nothing but sincerity in his eyes. her heart slightly sped up at the fact someone was actually listening to her.

"so you came here to get away from him?" mike concluded, causing y/n to nod.

"you can stay here as long as you need to okay?"

y/n nodded once more, thankful for mike's proposal. however a harsh knock on the front door caused her head to turn quickly, and michael stood from the couch. "probably just some solicitors. i'll get them to leave."

y/n stayed on the couch while mike opened the door. his heartrate picked up once he was met with a taller man, with a scruffy beard and dark curly hair. he seemed to have a glint of hatred in his eyes, and mike could only guess this was the person y/n was hiding from.

"can i help you?"

"you haven't seen y/n around, have you? she ran out a bit ago," the man explained, seeming way too calm about the situation.

mike shakes his head, "nope, haven't seen her today."

y/n's heart races as she listened to their conversation from the living room. she can't help but worry he's going to come inside and take her back to the toxic home she just came from.

y/n picks her head up at the loud noise, and stands up abruptly from the couch once she sees mike stumble back from her ex-boyfriend pushing the door open.

"you bitch!" he screams, instantly grabbing y/n's wrist, making her yelp out in pain. "i told you not to leave! and you come over here to whore around with him?"

*brad let go," the only three words y/n manages to get out, as she's more focused on planting her feet to try and make her unmovable.

brad only pulls on y/n's wrist harder, and slaps her cheek with his empty hand. y/n cups her cheek in shock, as brad pulls her out of the house and into mike's front yard.

mike follows the two, and jogs over to brad and pushes his chest, causing him to let go of y/n.

"y/n get back inside, lock the door," mike orders. y/n's quick to run back inside as she watches mike tell brad off through the window.

a few minutes pass and mike knocks on the front door. y/n of course lets him inside his home, and as soon as he closes and locks the door y/n wraps her arms around his waist.

mike's shortly taken aback before he holds onto the poor girl. he hears her start to cry, as her body starts to shake. mike holds y/n's head to his chest and he gently sways the two side to side.

"you're okay. you're safe here," mike whispers against the top of y/n's head. "do you want to stay for dinner?" he offers, of course wanting to do nothing but cheer the girl up.

y/n pulls back from the hug and wipes her tears, before nodding her head.

mike's quick to dial the local pizza shop as y/n sits back down on the couch, her hand immediately goes to her wrist and looks at the new bruise already starting to form.

mike walks down the hallway to abby's room, for two reasons. he first asks if she heard any of the yelling, to which she responded no since she had her radio playing. and secondly he asked if she wanted to join him and y/n in the living room and have pizza soon.

y/n watched as both mike and abby walked out of the hallway. mike sat beside y/n on the couch and abby sat at the coffee table again, as she continued to work on her drawing for y/n.

"are you cold?" mike asks y/n, seeing the goosebumps covering her arms. she simply nods, and mike leans forward and removes the dark grey hoodie he was wearing. y/n couldn't help but look to his stomach as the movement of him taking the hoodie off cause his shirt underneath to lift. he smiled as he handed her the article of clothing, and couldn't help but feel his heart warm at the sight of his hoodie covering y/n's torso.

a half hour passes, and mike seems to notice how a weight has lifted off y/n's shoulders. y/n and abby have been in a deep conversation about cartoon characters. the conversation however is cut short when the doorbell rings, making y/n jump from her spot on the couch.

mike reaches forward and places his hand over her knee, causing her to look at him. "it's okay, it's just the pizza."

the reassurance calms y/n down, and mike walks to the door. he pays the pizza delivery boy and places the greasy pizza box on the coffee table. he's quick to get paper plates for the three of the them before he sits back down besides y/n.

the trio enjoy their meal together, and abby starts asking y/n questions. like where she's from, where she goes to school, what her favorite color is, and a plethora of other random questions.

after the three finish dinner, mike and y/n are captived by a movie that was now playing on tv. abby was busy adding the finishing touches to her picture for y/n, and was excited to give it to her.

y/n looks down and sees abby handing her a colorful piece of paper, "is this for me?" abby nods.

y/n looks over the paper, seeing three people resembling mike, abby and herself. the figures seem to be outside as they're together in a grassy area with flowers surrounding them.

"i love it abby," y/n smiles, "i'll keep it forever."

two hours pass, and after another movie plays, abby had fallen asleep with her head on her notebook, her right hand still gripping a red colored pencil. mike only laughs, before he shakes abby's shoulder to wake her up.

"i'll be right back," he states. y/n nods as she watches mike lead abby to her bedroom to put her to bed. y/n looks at the clock placed on the wall and sees its nearing eleven pm.

y/n leans her head back on the couch, and can't help but let her eyes close, as sleep takes over.

mike whistles while walking back into the living room, after saying goodnight to abby. his whistling is cut short when he looks at the sleeping girl on his couch. he chuckles at her positon. she's now in a curled ball, as her arms are crossed over her chest.

mike turns off the tv, and grabs the blanket draped over the arm of the chair from across the room. he places the material over y/n, before leaning down and kissing the girl's forehead. he wanted to make sure she knew she was always safe in his home.

#mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt x y/n #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's

449 notes · View notes

sebscore · 1 year

Text

DRIVER X TGD HEADCANONS | MICK VER.

pairing: mick schumacher x driver!reader

author's note: the first headcanons post is here :) had fun writing this one, cause mick is such a sweetheart.

headcanons masterlist

• • • • • • •

:: They met in their early karting days so the two have known each other for a long time.

:: Mick used his mother's last name for karting competitions and because of that Y/N didn't know he was Michael Schumacher’s son for several months.

:: Y/N used to get alienated by her peers a lot, because she was the only girl. Mick was hesitant on being friends with other people, because of who he was.

:: Corina saw the young girl sitting alone at a certain race and urged Mick to talk to her.

:: BAM! instant besties.

:: Many people around them thought they were a couple, but no- just a couple of best friends.

:: Sebastian still has hope they will eventually get together, though (Hanna and Seb's kids are the biggest Mick x Y/N shippers).

:: The older he got, the more introverted Mick became. Meanwhile the older Y/N got, the more extroverted she became.

:: They provide a certain safe space for each other to be themselves without feeling any kind of judgement from the other.

:: Y/N defended Mick each time a journalist or Steiner suggested Mick should be replaced at Haas, saying he wasn't being treated well and deserves a lot better.

:: Mick does the same for her. He's much like Lewis and Sebastian; defending her even when she's obviously in the wrong (which she barely is, btw).

:: They were at Prema Racing together, but in different series.

:: They have matching bracelets that they bought in Austin.

:: She is Angie's unofficial godmother.

:: orange cat x golden retriever duo :)

:: Overall, they're one of the fan favourite friendships on the grid despite mick not being in F1 this year as a driver.

taglist :: @starsanova @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @alonsogirlie @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123 @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis @champomiel @ooooohmicky @koufaxx @flannelforthetoads

@mysticfalls01 @ghostcorazon @mango-bear @totally-random-person @youkissedareaderinthedark @phoenix-luv @hamilton-mount @calcaneous @aurora-maria @idkiwantchocolatee @anonymous-platypus1

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher #f1 imagines #f1 x you #f1 x oc #f1 headcanons

1K notes · View notes

ellieromanov · 11 months

Text

Wasted flowers. N.R x Y/n

First fic on tumblr, let me know your thoughts and requests are always open.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst

Summery:

Y/n and Natasha are soulmates, they are perfect for each other, but life always has different plans.

Natasha’s point of view

Y/n and I met by chance and dumb luck. We were young and naïve, so clueless of the world and the cruelties it held, yet we thought we knew so much. It was spring in New York, I couldn't tell you the year but if you lived here during this particular spring, you would remember. It was the one when all the trees of Central Park blossomed with small flowers, the birds sang their song from dawn into the late hours of evening, and the breeze held a freshness that the city hadn't seen in centuries.

On this particular day I had wanted to clean up my apartment and make it feel more homely. After hours of picking the place up, rearranging furniture, and hanging up decorations it started to feel more like a home rather than a simple place to sleep. The last thing it was missing was a touch of greenery so I made my way to "Michael's Floral Design" to pick out a bouquet to set in the kitchen and maybe a few house plants.

I had pasted this flower shop on 85th St. nearly every single day on the commute to the tower but never really thought twice about it. I can still remember walking to the shop that day and getting red just at the thought of the 'big scary black widow' walking out of a flower shop with a bouquet of colorful flowers in hand. I can't remember why it embarrassed me so much. But I remember by the time I had arrived to the shop I didn't seem to care anymore, I was to mesmerized by all the colors to care.

I remember reading the name of every flower I saw and paying attention to every detail of every bouquet that was on display. And while I was browsing, the shopkeepers bell rang as someone entered the store, that someone being Y/n. Her hair was shorter back then and she looked much younger of course. I still remember the sweater she had on too. It was a knitted sweater that had so many layers of colors it was almost distracting, which was obviously a stark contrast to myself who was wearing all black. Little did I know that that sweater would eventually become my favorite years later.

I can't remember how we started talking but I'd like to think she was just charmed by me, but knowing Y/n she probably saw how confused I looked from across the store and decided to take pity on me. She helped me pick the flowers and I ended up leaving the store with more than I had planned on.

That night, for the very first time my apartment felt more inviting and and warm than it ever had in the past. What a simple difference flowers could make.

The next time we met it was a few months later in the fall at French bakery. I was sitting at a nearby table waiting for the worker to call my name for my coffee and breakfast when, again, the shopkeepers bell rang and in walked the same girl from the flower shop, only now her hair was slightly longer and died a darker color. But her face looked the same. This time She wore a black beret, a grey sweater and a white and black polkadot skirt. Not as colorful as she dressed earlier in the spring and I can remember wondering if maybe something had happened in between those times to have made her stop wearing so much color, or maybe she was just following along with the seasons. Either way I wasn't going to ask.

She walked up to the counter to place her order and as she was going to grab a seat to wait for her order to be called, I gave her a small wave. The smile she gave me as she walked to my table is one I'll never forget. This time I think I actually did charm her because we ended up staying at this bakery for hours just talking away. I didn't want to leave. I got her phone number that day.

After that we started talking on a regular basis, we'd text each other nearly every day and we'd plan to meet up when we could. It was later that November when she asked me on an official date. How was I meant to turn her down?

We went on a walk through her neighborhood, I remember it was cold and all the leaves had already fallen off the trees and the sun was starting to set much earlier, but I couldn't have cared less, because Y/n was the most wonderful girl I had ever met. She was smart, and witty and she was insanely funny, she made me laugh harder than I had ever laughed in my whole life. And she was gorgeous and kind and soft and she was so humble. It was a nice contrast from everything I was. We balanced each other out nicely.

During this walk through her neighborhood she stopped and greeted every shop owner, every child, and every neighbor with a smile as if she had known them her whole life, and maybe she did, I forgot to ask.

Later that night I walked her to her front door and she invited me in. Her appointment was colorful and crowded with little trinkets she had collected through out the years, art hanging on the walls, plants in every corner, and a bouquet of flowers on her kitchen counter. I ended up staying there that night.

The fall had come and gone and missions were slow, I think everything felt slow when I wasn't with Y/n, my days felt endless and my nights were torturous without her, but looking back now, I kind of wish things felt slow even when I was with her, that would mean I would've gotten more time to appreciate her and love her.

That December she invited me to spend the holidays with her and her family, I of course said yes. That was my first "real" Christmas, we had the food, the films, the decorations and the presents. Y/n's family was incredible, although nothing alike. They were loud and chaotic, unlike Y/n who was soft spoken and patient but it made sense. It was clear how much they all loved each other. The way Y/n and her siblings would interact and bicker always made me laugh and the love her parents had for each other made my heart full. Even though Y/n and I hadn't been dating long, her family took me in like I was their own.

The new year had flown by quickly, winter had pasted and so did the spring. I learned so much about her. I learned how much she loved to paint, and she loved to cook, and she loved playing her piano, of course she did, she was a composer. And I quickly learned how much I love, her. It was that summer that we had said it for the first time. We were drinking white wine on her balcony watching the sun slowly set when she said it. I didn't even think twice before saying it back.

When the next spring had approached we had moved in together, a small apartment in downtown Brooklyn, it was perfect, it was us.

A few months later Y/n got a dog, a Great Dane named Frodo. Of course out of any dog she could have picked she chose the horse. Frodo was the dumbest dog I've ever met but god was he lovable.

Y/n and I had our daily routines, we'd wake up, I'd start getting ready while Y/n started breakfast. Some days she'd make it herself, others she'd take Frodo on a walk to the bakery, and when she'd go to the bakery she'd also stop by the flower shop to pick up flowers as well. She'd get home, we'd eat, then she'd start getting ready while I cleaned up. And We always had to give at least five minutes of love and affection to Frodo before we left for work for the day.

When we'd get home, we'd take Frodo an another walk through the park then stop by the market to pick up anything we may have ran out of through out the week. We'd get home and start dinner. Y/n was always the better cook but I did what I could to help without screwing it up. We'd finish dinner then have a glass of wine together on the balcony and talk about our days. Once the sun would set we'd go back inside and normally watch a film together, but sometimes she'd work on her latest Composition at the piano or she would keep working on her painting while I read to her. This was our day-to-day lives, and just how perfect it was.

It was June of the next year when Y/n had brought up the idea of marriage. I agreed with her without a doubt, how could I not? Y/n was my other half. We'd been together for nearly 5 years. We never had an official proposal, I never got down on one knee with a ring, and neither did she, we just started planning. We didn't need anything extravagant for it to be special, we just needed each other.

Time seemed to be moving so fast and before I knew it, it was already late fall again. This fall had been different from the others, Y/n didn't seem as present as she normally was, she seemed so lost in her own thoughts. At first it didn't worry me, she had a lot going on with work, she had just gotten a promotion at the symphony she worked for so there was a lot of new changes and responsibilities.

But Y/n had started to forget more frequently too. She'd often forget what she had been doing only moments before and she'd forget what she wanted to say in the middle of our conversations. And for awhile I just thought it was all just work related stress.

But only a month later, Y/n was sent home on paid leave after having "an episode." She accused a coworker of stealing one of her books on composition arts that was important for a project she was working on. She forgot that she had happily loaned him the book just two days prior.

Y/n cried so hard that night, she didn't know why she didn't remember loaning the book. She was so frustrated. I suggested that we go to the doctors and that's what we did.

Stage three brain cancer.

The tumor was against the part of the brain that affects memory.

We walked out of that doctors office that day hand in hand. We were meant to go in and figure out what was going on then go home to get ready for one of Stark's Christmas parties but we didn't think that the diagnosis would be anything serious. We thought they'd tell us that she was just stressed and needed more rest, not that she had cancer that's causing early onset dementia. We both decided to keep it a secret.

That winter we spent half of the holidays with her family and the other half with the team at Clint a Laura's. Y/n had admitted to me that being around the team was less stressful than her family simply because she didn't want her family to notice something was wrong.

The holidays went by smoothly and Y/n started treatments. She was able to start working again later that march. When we got the diagnostic I asked Furry to cut down on my hours so I could be with her more often. He agreed to assign me to fewer missions.

That year passed by before we knew it. In all craziness we both dropped the idea of marriage until things had settled.

Frodo was getting older, he had silver down his back and around his eyes, he was getting slower at night too. We still walked him twice a day and would even bring him with us when we would meet with friends. He was always the bestest boy.

Y/n and I still had our daily routines, wake up, get ready and eat breakfast. Except for one time in particular, Y/n had wanted to go to the bakery with Frodo since it had been awhile since we had last went. 30 minutes went by and they weren't back, I called her but she didn't answer the phone. When I went to check her location she was almost in Jackson heights in Queens which was a 40 minute subway ride away. The bakery was only a 10 minute walk away.

I had gotten in the car to go pick her up. I was furious. When I had finally gotten to her she just cried in my arms.

And after that point Y/n's affliction only worsened. She stopped remembering things during her rehearsals with the orchestra and her compositions were in shambles, none of her music or writing made sense. She'd get awful headaches too. Every other night she'd cry herself to sleep because of the pain.

The second time there was an incident she was sent home on permanent medical leave. She was devastated. So was I. Some days I'd get the Y/n who would sing in the kitchen while she cooked us dinner, the Y/n who would sit on the balcony and paint, the Y/n who would joke about our unborn children, and the Y/n who could turn every negative into a positive... other days I'd get a stranger.

Her family was devastated when we finally told them, they started visiting from Seattle as often as the could after that.

Three years passed far to quickly and Y/n only got worse. Her memory was fading fast and the pain in her head only got worse. The worst was when I'd get mad at her like when she'd try to go on walks by herself or when she'd try to cook for herself. I couldn't do anything without her and she couldn't do anything without me. We eventually needed to give Frodo to the Barton's so they could take care of him and I asked furry to take me off the mission list all together so I could just do SHIELD work from home.

This brings us to two years ago. Y/n's memory didn't worsen to much since the worst of it, she still remembered exactly who I was and most of the time she understood what was going but she was so weak, most months consisted of multiple trips to the hospital where she'd be kept for a few nights. But towards the end of it, even her strongest medications couldn't help with the pain.

I remember we started using the spoon theory and color system not long after this. To get through our days we'd make a list of things we wanted to do. First Y/n had to give her color. Green Days were good days, she could get out of bed, take a walk, make dinner, paint, play her piano, etc. Yellow days she'd stay in our room or maybe the living room and sleep, maybe watch something on tv or read a book. And red days were the worst of them. She couldn't get out of bed, she couldn't eat, sleep, or talk. she couldn't do anything but lay there. Those were the worst.

But on green or yellow days we'd make a list of what we wanted to do. Each activity on the list took up a certain amount of energy, and Y/n only had so many spoon fulls of energy to give, that's why the call it the spoon theory. It just helped us do things without Y/n getting burned out.

The last hospital trip we went on she was kept for over a month, machines and wires where hooked up to her to make sure her heart didn't stop. It was so unexpected. The doctors didn't really understand how her health decreased in such a short amount of time. But they understood that my girl was in pain and they tried everything they could to stop that pain.

I believe deep down Y/n knew something the rest of us didn't, I think she knew it was her time, she was so tired and she was hurting and she was ready.

"Natasha."

"I'm sorry we didn't get married."

"I'm sorry we didn't have kids."

"I'm sorry that I can't remember all the time."

"I'm sorry we didn't get the life we wanted."

"I tried. I tried to get better but it hurts so much."

The Barton's would visit weekly, so would stark and other members of the team as well as Y/n's parents.

But I was the one who didn't leave her side. I was there through it all. I was there when she would sob in pain, I was there when she'd forget who our family's were. I was there when she wouldn't sleep for days on end. I was always there.

People often ask me if I regret it, being with her, falling in love with her, meeting her. I always tell them the same thing. Never.

I'd do it a thousand times over again if it meant I got to fall in love with her all over again. Fall in love with her smile and her laugh and her love of flowers, pastries, dogs, music and art. I'd do it all again if it meant that was a promise, that I'd be able to have my girl.

12/30/1992 - 11/11/2018

Y/n Y/l/n

Friend • daughter • sister • lover

Life goes on. two years have slipped away since Y/n has been gone. I’m not able to look at flowers the same anymore. They used to represent her spirit, colorful and lively. But now they mirror her paintings, cracked paint on a Canvas, the echo of her piano that’s lost it’s tune, or that one spring in the city all those years ago. flowers are just fleeting moments of a beauty that slip through our fingers like everything else. my world is quieter without her, and flowers, now seem like an attempt to hold onto moments that inevitably slip away.

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #soft natasha romanoff #angst #black widow #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha romanov #y/n #marvel #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #scarlett ingrid johansson

146 notes · View notes

allthelovehes · 5 months

Text

Hardware Store Hookup*

Summary: Y/N just broke up with her boyfriend and kicked him out, she is redecorating her apartment and the guy who works at the hardware store just has something special to him.

Pairing: Harry x reader

Word count: 4.7K

Warnings: Smut!! Protected sex tho, oral female receiving, p in v.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 @cherrylovers-world @harrys-littlefreak Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

A/N: Ugh, these two are so cute and loving. Makes me wanna paint my house and find Harry at my hardware store.

Setting down the last box of his belongings in the entryway of her apartment building. Y/N feels bittersweet. This building has been their home for the last two years, but the second she found out he cheated on her she was packing up all his shit and moving him out.

“I don't understand why you won't just listen to me! We can work this out!”

“I'm done talking to you, Michael.” She responds, her voice void of emotion. “The apartment is in my name, and I'm paying the bills, you're out.”

Michael huffs and walks around her as if he's going to leave, but turns around and comes right back. She can feel his eyes boring into her and her skin crawls. He's trying to play the victim and she can't stand it.

“Fine, you know what? Just... just fuck it, Y/N. I don't even want to live with you, you're an ugly bitch anyways. I can find someone prettier and younger to take care of me than some fat cow.”

“You're an asshole, Michael. I never want to see your face again.” She replies, opening the door and pointing outside.

“Fuck you!” He spits, picks up his boxes and leaves.

She watches as he gets into his truck and pulls out of the parking spot before she goes inside and closes the door. As soon as she locks it she collapses on the floor and bursts into tears. A year ago Michael was her knight in shining armour, her soulmate, the love of her life. Now she wants to erase his entire existence from her memory.

***

A couple of months pass and Y/N feels like it's finally time to transform their home into her own. The couch was a gift from her parents when they moved in together and it's not even comfortable. It's also stained and ratty and she's ready to get rid of it. She's browsing Pinterest when a couch catches her eye, it's white and has a tufted back. It looks beautiful, so she clicks on the website and begins filling her cart with things for her new interior.

Shipping the pieces takes quite some time as they get delivered by truck and they schedule an appointment with you to make sure you're home. Still, three more weeks until her furniture is supposed to be delivered, so she decides to make most of the time in between and visits the hardware store for some paint.

The hardware store is surprisingly quiet and she has the aisle to herself. There are dozens of different brands of paint and it's overwhelming, let's not even get started about all the different colour options. She has an idea in mind, something warm, inviting and calming. Something that feels like home.

“Can I help you?” A voice says behind her and she startles, almost dropping the cans of paint she picked out.

“Ah, yes! Please!” She chuckles, turning around and looking at the man behind her.

He's tall, very tall, and wearing a navy blue polo. He has a nametag, 'Harry' written across it. He's got curly, dark brown hair, and his face is handsome and symmetrical. The thing that stands out to her the most are his eyes, they're a soft green, almost grey and they remind her of the sea. His lips look soft and pouty and she can't stop staring.

“You seem lost.” Harry smirks.

“Yeah, a bit, actually.” She chuckles. “I need paint for my apartment and I don't really know how much I'm gonna need or where to start. I just wanna do my bedroom and the living room.”

“Well, first, let's start by picking out a colour. Do you have an idea of what you want?”

“Oh, um, yeah!” She smiles, grabbing her phone and showing him her Pinterest board. “Something like this.”

“Ah, I see. A warm colour, that's good. And what are you painting over?”

“Well, right now it's a cream colour.” She explains, following him through the aisles as he looks at paint cards.

“Okay, so we'll probably want to stick with a neutral colour for the living room, because the natural light changes a lot. Here.” He hands her a warm yellow coloured paint card, “This one would look great, it's warm and it will compliment the furniture.”

“I love it.”

“And your bedroom, we'll do something more daring, because that's more of a personal space.” Harry smirks at her. “I think something darker to add some mystery, but with a pop of colour would look great, like maybe a navy wall with a bright coloured accent piece.”

“I have a yellow throw I'm planning on using. That's good contrasting colour, right?”

“Yes! Exactly! You can use the yellow throw to really add some warmth, especially during winter, and the blue to contrast that and create some depth.”

“That sounds great.” She smiles, her excitement growing. Harry is charming and his excitement for her project is contagious. “I can't wait.”

“Let's head over to the paint mixer, yeah?”

They walk towards the back of the store, where the mixing area is located. During their walk Harry asks her what her more about the wall sizes so he knows how much she'll need. She tells him everything he needs to know and Harry gets to work. The heavy paint buckets cause his muscles to flex and his biceps bulge. He's definitely a looker and she can't help but blush and tries to turn her attention elsewhere.

“There we go.” He smiles. “Let's go get some painting supplies and we'll ring you up, yeah?”

“Perfect.”

“How are you planning on doing this?”

“Hm?”

“The painting.” He chuckles. “Are you planning on doing it yourself or are you hiring a painter?”

“Oh, I'll do it myself, it's only the two rooms, right? I can handle that.”

“You can, absolutely.” Harry grins. “You're brave. Most women hire painters to do that sort of thing, or their boyfriends.”

“Oh, well, I don't have a boyfriend. I guess I'm just doing this all myself.”

“That's admirable. I wish more women were like you, not afraid of getting their hands dirty. You're going to be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“Trust me, you'll do great. And if you need any advice you know where to find me. I'll be glad to help.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She says. Harry loves that she calls him by his name that she clearly read off his name tag. “I appreciate it.”

“It's my pleasure, darling. Let's get you checked out.” Harry gives her a small wink and they head to the counter. He helps her lift all the heavy items onto the conveyor belt so his colleague can scan them. He normally wouldn't give this much attention to a customer, but he's drawn to her, she's different.

Y/N notices him staring as they load her purchases onto the conveyor belt and it makes her blush. She can't help but look at him and the way his lips move as he talks. They look soft and she can't help but imagine what kissing him would be like.

“Will that be all, miss?” His colleague asks, snapping her out of her daydream.

“Um, yes. Yes, thank you.” She smiles, handing her her debit card.

“I'll bring these to your car.” Harry says, lifting two buckets of paint and carrying them outside.

“Oh, thank you!” She smiles, grabbing the other bucket and following him. She knows he's giving her some kind of special treatment as he shouldn't be doing this, but she isn't complaining. She's not complaining at all.

He sets down the buckets next to her car, and she unlocks the trunk so he can place them inside. He turns around and looks at her. He wants to say something, anything, to her, but he doesn't know what.

“Do you have a card or something? So I can contact you if I have any questions?” She speaks up, feeling brave.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Harry grins, reaching behind him and pulling out a small note block. He scribbles down his name, phone number and writes hardware store employee underneath as if it's an official business card. He rips off the piece of paper and hands it over with a goofy grin on his face. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She chuckles. “I'm Y/N, by the way.”

“It's lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

“Likewise.” She grins. “Well, I have to get going. I still have to buy a few more things.”

“Of course.” He nods. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, getting into her car and driving off.

As soon as she's out of sight, Harry lets out a sigh and heads back into the hardware store.

“Hey, mate.” His colleague says. “What was that all about?”

“What was what about?”

“Don't act stupid. I've never seen you give special attention to a customer.”

“Shut up.” Harry chuckles, walking towards the back room. “It was nothing, I was just being nice.”

“Uhuh.”

Harry sighs, rolling his eyes as he starts to put away some equipment. He has no idea why he's so intrigued by her, she was just a normal customer, right? He thinks back to the way she blushed when he spoke, and the way she fiddled with her hands. Maybe he's just imagining things, but he's definitely got a soft spot for her. ***

She's spent the last few days painting the walls of her bedroom, as a darker colour needs multiple layers and drying times. It's finally time to paint the living room and she's excited. She's picked out the perfect colour and the weather is cooperating so she can leave the windows open.

She's put on her favourite music and has a cup of tea next to her as she paints. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she's wearing sweatpants and a sports bra. She's enjoying herself, and the room looks great so far. The colour is a bit darker than what she expected but she doesn't hate it. It's warm, and inviting and she's happy.

After a few hours her back and arms start hurting, so she decides to take a break. She grabs her phone and takes a picture of the wall and posts it in the family group chat.

She scrolls through her Instagram feed when she suddenly remembers the card that Harry gave her. She pulls it out of her pocket and enters his number in her contacts. She debates on whether or not she should send him a message, but decides to do it anyway.

Y/N Hey Harry, it's Y/N, the girl from the hardware store. I've finished my bedroom and I'm doing the living room now. The colour looks amazing, thanks again for helping me pick it out.

She sends the text and immediately puts her phone down. She can't believe she just did that. Did she sound desperate? Did she sound too eager? Is he going to reply? She's got no clue, and it's killing her.

“Get a grip, Y/N.” She whispers to herself. She shakes her head and grabs her cup of tea, taking a sip. She looks back at her wall and sighs, she's got a long day ahead of her.

The sun is slowly starting to set, and Y/N has just finished the wall. Her hair is still up in a bun and she's sweaty, but she's happy with the result. The walls look amazing, the colour is beautiful and she can't wait to show her parents tomorrow.

Her phone vibrates, and she grabs it to check the notification. It's a text from Harry.

Harry I'm so glad to hear that, love! I bet the colour looks lovely with the sun setting right now.

She can't believe he called her 'love' in a text, it's insane. He barely even knows her. But his message is sweet and cute and she's smiling like an idiot.

Y/N You'll have to come and check it out for yourself.

She stares at her phone screen for what feels like an eternity. She can't believe she just flirted with him. She's not even sure if he's single, and if he is, does he like her? He could be interested in someone else, or he could even be straight for all she knows.

Harry Are you inviting me over?

Y/N I'm not stopping you.

Her heart is pounding and her hands are shaking. She's definitely overstepping, but she's hoping it won't scare him off.

Harry I leave work in about 10 minutes. What's your address?

“Shit.”

Y/N Oh, it's 27B, Parkview Apartments.

Harry Be there in 20.

“Fuck!”

She can't believe he's actually coming over. She runs over to her bathroom and quickly brushes her hair and her teeth. Her apartment is a mess, and she's not wearing any makeup. She looks terrible and he's going to be here any second.

“Calm down.” She whispers to herself.

She walks out of the bathroom and starts cleaning up the living room. There are paint supplies everywhere, and she wants the place to look at least a little presentable.

A few minutes later she hears the doorbell and her heart almost leaps out of her chest.

“Coming!” She yells, rushing over to the front door and opening it.

“Hey.” Harry grins.

“Hi.” She smiles. “Please, come in.”

Harry steps inside and closes the door behind him. She looks stunning, despite the fact that she's wearing sweatpants and a messy bun, which makes him feel a little overdressed.

“Your apartment looks nice.”

“Thank you.” She replies, closing the window. “It's a bit of a mess right now, but I'm working on it.”

“Don't worry about it, I understand.”

“Um, would you like something to drink? Some water or beer or something?”

“A beer would be great, thanks.”

“Alright.” She nods, walking over to the fridge and pulling out two cold beers.

Harry sits down on the couch and watches her. She's got a few paint stains on her pants and her sports bra and he finds it endearing. He can tell that she's trying hard, and he's definitely charmed by her.

“Here you go.” She smiles, handing him a beer.

“Cheers.” He says, clinking his bottle against hers.

“To your apartment looking better than ever.”

“Cheers.” She smiles. “And to the man who helped make that possible.”

They both take a sip and stare at each other for a few seconds. Y/N has a feeling that something might happen, but she's not sure if it's the right thing.

“So.” Harry starts, clearing his throat. “What are you going to do now that the painting is done?”

“Oh, well, I'm still planning on doing a few other things.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I've ordered a new couch, and I'm thinking of getting a new rug.” She answers before Harry moves closer to her.

“So, you don't mind getting this couch a little dirty?” He asks her. Harry is blunt, but he feels the way she's looking at her. It's almost as if she's undressing him with her eyes, he can see the desire sparkling in them.

“Dirty how?”

“You know what I mean, love.” Harry smirks, taking another swig from his beer. Y/N doesn't know what has gotten into her. Normally she's not like this, not at all, but she wants him, badly. She's been craving him since the moment she saw him, and she's tired of denying herself.

“Yes.” She whispers. Harry doesn't reply, instead, he leans in and captures her lips with his own. The kiss is intense, full of lust and hunger. Y/N has been waiting for this and she's not going to waste the opportunity. The last couple of months with Michael have been stale, she's been missing this exciting feeling deep within her.

Harry pulls her closer and kisses her harder, his hands wandering over her body. Y/N moans into the kiss and straddles him. He grabs her hips and pushes her down on him, creating delicious friction between them. Y/N can feel him growing harder and his bulge pressing against her core. She wants him, and she wants him now. Harry breaks the kiss, and Y/N whimpers at the loss.

“You're a very good kisser.” He murmurs. “Are you always this good, or am I just lucky?”

“I don't know, maybe you're just lucky.” She teases, grinding down on his cock.

“Mmm.” Harry hums, leaning forward and kissing her again. This time, the kiss is even more passionate. Y/N wraps her arms around his neck and deepens the kiss, running her fingers through his hair. She pulls on it and Harry groans, his hands moving to her ass and squeezing it.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He mutters against her lips, squeezing her ass again.

“You too.” She mumbles, leaning down and kissing his neck. Harry groans as she starts sucking on his skin, leaving a trail of love bites. He knows that they'll be visible tomorrow and that his colleagues will have a field day. But he doesn't care, he loves it. He loves the fact that he's been claimed by her.

He spins her full body around in his lap, so her back is flush against his chest and his face is buried in the crook of her neck. His hands move up her stomach and under her sports bra. He cups her breasts and pinches her nipples between his fingers, making her whimper.

“You're so beautiful.” He mumbles, his lips pressed against her neck. She places her hands on his knees and grinds down on his cock, loving the feeling of him underneath her.

“Fuck.” Harry groans, thrusting his hips up, meeting her movements. “You're so fucking hot, you know that?”

“I'm aware of the effect I have on you.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, pulling her hair and forcing her to expose her neck.

“Yeah.” She reaches behind her to unclasp her sports bra and lets it fall to the floor.

“Fuck, look at you.” Harry grunts, grabbing her breast and squeezing it. Y/N throws her head back and moans. “Look at these perfect tits.”

He continues to massage her breast, teasing her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Y/N arches her back, pushing her breast further into his hand.

“That feels so good.” She whines.

“Mhm.” He hums, licking a stripe up her neck. He loves the way her skin tastes, sweet and salty. He can't get enough. He sucks on her earlobe, one of his hands sliding down her body and slipping into her pants. He finds her clit, and two of his fingers circle it, making her gasp.

“Oh god.”

“Do you like that?” He asks her, continuing his movements because he already knows the answer.

“Yes.”

“You're so wet, baby.” Harry smirks

“Mmm.” She whimpers, grinding her hips into his fingers.

“I can't wait to be inside you.” He growls, his fingers dipping lower and sliding into her.

“Fuck.” She hisses, her nails digging into his legs.

“That's it, baby, let me hear you.” Harry grunts, pumping his fingers in and out of her. He curls them and hits the perfect spot, making her cry out in pleasure. Her walls are spongey and tight around him, making him impatient. But the thought of feeling her come all over his hand is more than enough for him to keep focussed. He wants her to leak all over his hand, to make a mess for him and only him.

“Oh fuck, please, more.” She whines, her thighs trembling. She's never felt this way before, the way he touches her, the way he makes her feel is intoxicating. She loves how she's still half-clothed, and yet, he's managed to make her feel exposed. She's not ashamed of the noises she's making, but she's definitely enjoying the way he's making her feel.

“More what, baby?” Harry asks, his lips grazing her ear moaning softly to send shivers running down her spine.

“More of you.”

“Oh, I'll give you more, baby. Just be patient.”

“Yes.” She cries out, feeling her orgasm approaching. She knows it's close, and she wants it, badly. Her hips start grinding down on his hand, her movements becoming faster and less controlled. Harry continues to pump his fingers into her, his thumb rubbing her clit, making her body shake.

“Oh, fuck.” She gasps, her walls tightening around him. She comes, squirting all over his hand. Harry moans, his dick twitching as he feels her squirt.

“Holy fuck.” Harry moans, watching the mess she's made. “That's so fucking hot.”

“Harry...”

“Mmm.” He hums, as he picks her up and roughly lies her down on her back. He grabs the waistband of her now completely soaked sweatpants and pull them down her legs, throwing them to the side. He does the same with her panties. He gets rid of his own shirt, revealing his toned body. Y/N is taken aback, he's got some tattoos, which is not something she expected. But it suits him, and it's hot.

“Look at you, such a pretty pussy.” He hums, admiring her dripping wet cunt. She's glistening and his mouth waters at the sight.

“Stop staring.” She chuckles.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” He laughs. “Would you prefer if I did this?”

“Do what- fuck!” Y/N exclaims, as Harry suddenly leans down and sucks her clit between his lips. He places his big hands on the inside of her thighs to keep her legs nice and open for him. He is relentless, his tongue licking a strip up her cunt, making her squirm and cry out. He laps up her juices, enjoying every second of it.

“Fuck, Harry!”

“That's it, baby.” Harry groans, sending vibrations through her body. She's gripping the couch, her knuckles turning white. It's an overwhelming feeling to have him eat her out so eagerly right after she came all over his hand. She doesn't know how much more she can take.

When she first met him, she never would have guessed Harry would have been this skilled. The way his tongue moves along her pussy, his lips sucking and licking her clit and the way his fingers dig into her thighs is making her dizzy. She knows she's going to come soon, and she's not sure if she's ready for that.

“Mmhmm, yes.” She moans, her back arching. She grabs a fistful of his hair and holds on to it, pushing his head further down. He takes it as a sign and doubles his efforts, his tongue moving even faster and deeper.

“Oh fuck, yes, right there!” She cries out, her toes curling as her orgasm hits her. It's intense and makes her see stars. Her whole body trembles as her muscles contract, and her mind goes blank.

“Jesus, you taste so good.” Harry groans, as he carefully licks her clean. He gets up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry catches his breath and he looks down at the sweet girl in front of him. She is completely wrecked, and he's not even done with her yet.

“You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” He smiles, standing up and removing his pants and boxers. His cock is hard and leaking precum. He's long and thick, and Y/N can't wait to have it inside of her.

“Fuck.” She mumbles at the sight, a bit too loud. She's certain Harry heard her even though she didn't intend for him to hear it.

“What's that, love?” Harry grins, his cock throbbing.

“Nothing.”

“No, I want to hear you say it.” He insists, his eyes locked on hers.

“You're big.”

“Yeah?”

“And hard.”

“For you.”

“Fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command, love.” Harry laughs. He grabs his wallet from his pants and pulls out a condom, ripping the package open and sliding the condom down his shaft.

“Come here.” She tells him. He obeys and walks towards her, getting down on his knees in front of the couch. He leans forward and kisses her passionately, his hands cupping her face. He slowly pulls away, his eyes locking with hers.

“You're beautiful.” He murmurs.

“I bet you say that to all the girls who need help at the hardware store.” She teases.

“Oh, shut up.” He laughs, kissing her again. He positions himself, his tip pressing against her entrance. He can't wait to feel her, to be inside of her. Y/N's breathing heavily, her heart racing. He teases her by slowly pushing his tip up and down her folds before slowly pushing it into her. Just the tiniest bit to make her all needy and whiney.

“Please.”

“Patience, baby.” He whispers, his lips inches from hers. He keeps teasing her, his tip rubbing her clit. Y/N moans and her hips buck, trying to get him to push his dick inside of her. But he makes sure to not give in to her desires just yet. He pushes back into her, a little bit further this time, his tip disappearing inside her. But he doesn't go any further, and Y/N lets out a frustrated grunt.

“What's the matter, love?” He smirks, his hand slowly trailing up her stomach and resting on her breast. As he rubs his cock on her clit, his hand squeezes her breast and he starts sucking on her neck.

“You know exactly what's wrong, you fucking tease.”

“Oh, do I?” He chuckles, his hand squeezing her breast again, this time a little bit rougher.

“Yes.” She moans, arching her back. “Please, Harry, stop teasing me.”

“Alright.” He whispers, his lips brushing against her ear. He slowly thrusts into her, filling her up completely. He stills his hips, letting her adjust to his size. She moans, her hands resting on his hips, urging him to move. He complies and begins to rock his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in.

“Fuck.” Harry groans, his pace increasing. Y/N's walls tighten around him and her nails dig into his hips, as she tries to pull him even deeper.

“That's it, baby.” He growls, his cock sliding in and out of her easily. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking good.”

“You're so big.” She gasps, her eyes closed and her mouth agape. He groans, his hips slamming into her. His fingers find her clit, and he starts rubbing her. Y/N whimpers, her toes curling as his fingers and his cock bring her closer to the edge.

“Yes, baby.” Harry grunts, his free hand cupping her breast, his fingers tweaking her nipple. It's sending sparks of pleasure throughout her body.

“Oh god, fuck!” Y/N moans, her hips bucking, and her walls tightening around him. “Fuck, I'm gonna come.”

“Oh, baby.” He whispers, his voice dripping with lust.

“Shit.” Y/N gasps, her eyes flying open as her third orgasm washes over her. Her whole body is trembling, her muscles contracting. Harry feels her clench around his cock, and he knows that it won't be long before he comes too.

“Fuck.” He grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier. He curses under his breath as he pulls his cock out of her. He quickly rips the condom off and strokes his cock, coming all over her stomach.

“Fuck.”

They're both catching their breaths, both still riding their high. They look at each other and share a laugh.

“I've made a mess.”

“It's okay, my couch was a mess to begin with. We just made it messier.”

“Fair point.” He chuckles, leaning in and kissing her. “This was...fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” She says, her fingers running through his curls.

“How about we go and get cleaned up in the shower and then we can have a proper drink?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Y/N's never had a one-night stand like this. Normally they are rushed and messy. This was different. It was sensual, erotic, and passionate. And she didn't feel bad about it. It felt natural like she was meant to do this. Like she was supposed to have a fling with the hot guy at the hardware store. She's never believed in fate, but maybe this is what it feels like.

93 notes · View notes

themultifandomgal · 1 year

Text

Michael Gray

Past And Present- YN meets Michael through Isaiah. Having grown up alongside Finn and the Peaky Blinders, YN helps Shelbyfiy Michael.

New Family- YN and her daughter nervously meet the Shelby’s and Polly.

Return Pt1- YN returns home after finding her best friend and boyfriend in bed together. YN meets Michael.

Return P2- YN and Michael try to keep their relationship secret, but nothing can get passed Polly.

Becoming a Gray- Tommy and YN’s dad arrange a marriage between YN and Michael. YN’s nervous about marrying into the family, but Michael reassures her.

Time Traveler Pt1- YN is in the middle of her dissertation on mental health when she ends up travelling back in time and meeting the Shelby’s.

Time Traveler Pt2- The Peaky Blinders help YN with her paper.

Cryptic Pregnancy- YN had no idea she was pregnant until her waters broke in the middle of a family meeting.

#michael grey #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #michael grey x y/n #michael grey imagines #michael gray #michael grey x oc #michael gray x reader

120 notes · View notes

ladylaviniya · 8 months

Text

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 2 || MasterList || Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: A new job creates a new problem for August who decides he needs to remind you of his power. You let Lloyd inside, and he has an offer to make.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Referenced Non-Con Events, Implied Illegal Weapon Arms Trading, Threats, Manipulation, Stalking Journalism.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Author Notes: in my mind and casting, Jude Driver is played by Adam Driver. Wesley Gibson is played by James McAvoy. Brandon Sullivan is played by Michael Fassbender. Katarina Vikander is played by Alicia Vikander.

Inspiring Song: "Woman." by Ke$ha.

10:23am Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

“These photos Miss Y/L/N, they’re magnificent. I haven’t seen quality this good since…well…never really…When can you start?”

You grinned, sitting across from the head editor of one of the smaller local newpapers.

You knew you had to find a job quickly…you were sick of the employment agency and their unhelpful attitude. You knew if you were going to remain safe and take down the billionaire asshole, you needed to be the best version of yourself.

It had been a three days since you first met that monster... August Walker. And he had seemingly invaded your every thought. He was there in the back and front of your mind haunting and taunting you with his smirking lips and roguishly deep voice.

The gentleman who sat in front of you had no idea. That was something you were okay with, how could anyone know? No one knew. You hadn’t called or replied to any text messages Lloyd had sent.

You made a resume portfolio of your best photos you’d taken since your first camera your dad ever bought you. Both Polaroid and electronic. You still hadn’t forgotten that August had stolen one of your father’s cameras from the day he forced you to cum on the recliner chair.

You knew you were inexperienced in journalism…but your photography was a master skill unlike any other.

Your successful interview, you put it up to a great sense of confidence, as well.

“Right now if you’ll have me,” you winked. He was an older man of an older generation. Clearly he knew and was a deep fan of Australian banter that borderlines the aesthetics of flirtation. You were a young woman and he was an older man, the math was simple. Bat your lashes, pretend to be coy and then slide in with a sarcastic remark or sexual innuendo.

He laughed and leant over his desk. You shook your new bosses hand.

He liked that very much. ‘Of course he would, he’s practically old enough to be someone’s perverted uncle.’

“Oh most definitely…” he said biting his bottom lip, he was milking the banter.

He was a handsome even for a classic perverted elder fellow. John Luther was a grey fox so the ladies might say. You were sure that from now on never to truly trust a man…so when he winked back and looked down your shirt- at your chest, you smiled wider, ‘predictable men…he is going to be easy to manipulate…’

You had to thank August one day…if he hadn’t hurt and humiliated you the way he did…you would never have felt the rage of all women and the desire to use your assets to get what you wanted in this Man’s World.

You sat back a lit and lifted your chest as you gave a big happy sigh while watching Mr Luther continuously ogle your chest.

It sent a shiver even down your spine thinking about it…entering a villainess era…a femme fatale story….a tale of revenge and justice.

“I admire a woman with confidence,” he said sucking his teeth, his right hand slide down beneath his desk out of view. You had half a mind to assume he was palming his dick in his trousers.

“So how about I assign you your first assignment? See how you go? I’ll even let you choose…”

“Choose?” you asked with a faux coyness, fluttering your lashes.

“Well, we have a very interesting story idea in regards to the Woolloongabba Doggy Day care that just moved to East Brisbane, rumour has it that the business is understaffed for the amount of dogs they keep in care. And they only use half of the required sanitization required. A spread of kennel cough and many dogs having their ears ripped off by other larger dogs belonging to rich clients the owner of the doggy day care refuses to lose business towards.”

Oh dear, you noted, that sounded tragic….it’s a good thing you never had a pet as a kid. It would hurt too much to be in that position. Hearing a pet dog had its ear ripped off by savage untrained dogs.

“...And the other case?” You sweetly chirped.

His smile fell, “There’s a certain gentleman that’s running around allegedly smuggling drugs and arm deals…” he repeated, “’Allegedly’…”

He rolled back in his chair to reach for a folder on his bookshelf, flicking through it.

Your craning neck had time to catch the outline of his prick beneath his pants. ‘Oh yes...this man is putty in my hands.’ When he swivelled back, you dashed your eyes back to his desk trinkets and smiled at him.

“A bloke named August Walker selling to or buying from an old money American philanthropist Brandon Sullivan…”

‘No fucking way’….just your luck…

You were going to fucking take it no matter what….

Luther grimaced, “It’s a big task so I won’t judge you for not taking it. I’m just hoping to catch the sons of bitches at it. It would be a huge story for media not even those wankers at seven, nine or ten news could think to report.”

You reached over his desk to steal his pen and stick note pad. You took down the name he mentioned on a sticky note- Brandon Sullivan...you made sure to memorise it well.

“How about we even make those conniving morons at sky news jealous, sir?” You smirked and watched as the rockets soared in his eyes with his white tooth grin.

He laughed hard.

He wiped his hand down his chin, “I love a girl with ambition Miss Y/L/N. I’m sure you won’t disappoint me! The dead line for photos is in a week, he’s having some soiree on next Friday or something so it’s got to be before then because you’re never gonna be able to enter those clubs, chicky. Respectfully.”

You smile and shake his hand again, “Mr Luther, I swear…I’ll give you the best goddamn shots you’ve ever seen of that criminal.”

Now your man hunt had truly commenced, you smiled to yourself. Who knew that revenge could come so easily and quickly…

Luther gave you your own cubicle to work in. A place to hang and edit your photos. A place to file your evidence. He may have mentioned that the work they did in his agency was on par with the police but by no means legally police work. So if the cops arrived, you stayed hidden and kept your fucking mouth shut....

You had a job and began researching the bastards name again on your laptop, compiling the sources from Google and the notes from Luther’s folder files.

You discovered the following about August J. Walker.

He was born in New Jersey. He was twice your age and almost as old as your father. He had a plethora of connections in businesses from alcohol distillery to Chinese restaurant vendings. Actually you were confident that a restaurant he help partnership over had a familiar logo. You tapped your lip and wondered briefly if your father ever delivered there as a truck driver.

August was a fan of European and Asian based foods and sold it at his clubs. He owned over fifteen around the world. One of his biggest in Australia was The Lions Lounge, it was on the edge of Fortitude Valley. It was for the richest social elites of the country. The price of food alone was almost your weeks rent.

On the website of his club you could see information regarding the tightship of his security. It seemed supreme so there wasn’t a chance of you going to his club without a fat purse and invitation.

A party was coming up, a celebration for the ten year anniversary of its opening. A soiree with a “The roaring 1920s.” Theme. You scoffed at the cliché.

It was exclusively invite only, it was only on the website so that those who received a invitation could reply a rsvp. And with you fresh out of luck of an invite like Luther even said, there was little to no chance of clawing your way inside.

So...that’s when you had to resort to extra creativity. You held up the sticky note and smiled.

09:07am Wednesday 14th August 2024, Robertson Brisbane.

August Walker was a man with a craving to remain in power. He had fought tooth and nail to get where he was and for now he felt incredibly comfortable…he had enough money to buy the fucking country...he had the power to make politicians kneel and kiss his shoes if he demanded it. To the police, with his legal team, he was currently untouchable.

He could literally have any woman he wanted…but he wanted you. Since that night he first saw your photo, he starved. He had given you time to mourn. Now you were alone and he righteously believed you needed him.

Yet to his surprised pleasure, he liked the fight and push you tried to dish out on him. Your guts to go to the police sent blood to his cock. He hadn’t expected it. He believed you’d roll over and cry only. He never predicted you’d immediately leave the apartment before he could wish you a good morning or afternoon after leaving you drugged up. He snooped for hours in your father’s bedroom and yours. He’d flicked through your old school reports and photos. He tried tidying your mess and clutter, washing your vomit covered duvet and even had cigarette to pass the time.

So when he received that call from the police requesting his presence, instead of anger, he felt surprise. Not many could surprise him. But you did...

He pushed away from his desk and rubbed his eyes chuckling, you were definitely a tasty little thing.

It made his dick hard when he remembered you crying beneath him. He loved to fantasise your pathetic excuses and spitfire words. He only wished you’d push the boundary more. The more you fought, the sweeter the submission.

He pulled out his ‘other’ phone. His ‘business’ phone. The phone no police would ever know or see. He swiped his thumb across the screen and groaned at the sweet nude thing he took photos of the night you’d both met. Oh how pitifully adorable you were with your desperate pleas and confusion as the pill quickly broke down into your blood stream.

He wished he had a video of it. How he teased your phone away from you. How he mocked you. Half of it he imagined you probably didn’t remember. After all it wasn’t long that you were totally out of it, limp and softly snoring.

He liked how much control he had over you. Laying the strips over your hairy body and tearing it away to be baby smooth as he liked it. How delicate you looked as he rubbed the baby oil into your skin to settle any potential irritation. Perhaps it was sick of him to prefer you like this. He sighed, licking his bottom lip, staring at the photo he took of your freshly waxed pussy.

He had done sicker things to other people. But you were someone who didn’t deserve this. That is where the guilt lied. You didn’t deserve this and August Walker fucking new it deep in his bones.

He wasn’t shy of hurting innocence but your situation was different. This was personal.

So really could he hold it against you for going to the police? No... And besides...his false alibi had been solid... especially after the rape kit evidence had been tampered with, concluding as inconclusive...

Something about the thought of making you submit but never fully breaking, constantly challenging him- turned him on so much, he found it impossible to work. He slapped his phone down and chewed the inside of his cheek while he considered calling up Natalie, one of his go to escorts. His payable whores. She was expensive but she knew how to suck him off to completion quickly and he wanted to focus on work and finalising the details of his party in two days, not on you.

As fate would have it….he wouldn’t have a choice…the phone rang on his desk.

He pressed the reviewer to his ear and turned to look out the window.

“Walker.”

“It’s Gibson.”

He smiled and leaned back in his rolling chair, “Ah Wesley, yes, how are you mate?”

“You’ve got a little problem, sir,” he heard his public relation specialist sigh, “A tail.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sending the email now,” the click clack typing of the keyboard echoed in the headset Wesley wore,” It seems the paper has started to find better journalists…”

The email notification came in quickly. The ping from his monitor forced August to spin around in his chair. He pursed his lips and scrolled to click the link.

He hovered the mouse arrow down and noticed the collection of photos taken of him in the high class restaurants talking with a old underworld buddy of his. Some of the images however were incredibly exposing. His hand was shaking Brandons in one when he made a export deal with him, another photo showed August’s fingers touching a contract, his eyes looking at a phone Brandon was holding with images of guns. This was not good at all…

“What the fuck…” his hand pressed to his lips, he mused, “The photographer was smart, he knows how to pick a decent angle, Jesus what camera took this?” He clicked another photo, “These details…you can practically see every pore on Brandon’s bloody face…”

His mouth felt dry. He knew he needed to hire Natalie’s services now, the stressed building up had him tense. His erection had vanished, now it was a matter of pain in his shoulders and back.

He scrolled further and stared at the headlines jumping out. “Playboy or Pathological Criminal.”, “Party King or King Pin.”, “Australia’s own insider terrorist.”

His eyes widened at seeing the publishing office. John Fucking Luther & Co. News.

His jaw cracked with the tightness he clenched. No. He didn’t have time for this shit.

“She, sir,” The lackey corrected, “Newest of Luther’s flock. His word usually isn’t credible but this? This is going to be hard, expensive press to erase or cover up. Other news outlets are fighting over the rites.”

She...

He picked up a pen and clicked the button. Why was it even that important.

She...

She? His eyes sharpened. He looked closer at the photos on his screen. Something about the photo style reminded him of something earlier he had seen the previous week. So many….on a wall…beside a bed…filled with a captivating woman he defiled…but surely not you? Surely not you...

“What did you say?”

“Sir the cost to-”

He shook his head and sighed into the phone, cutting of the agent, “No, no, I meant the photographer. You said ‘she’? Luther? Are you sure this is real? His lot are the worst, always blurry or grainy if they’re lucky…who the fuck is this new photographer or editor or whoever the fuck is getting these images.”

“We can only assume,” Wesley mumbled, “You’ve had this little thing on your tail for the passed few days, she tries to be sneaky we’ve noted. We didn’t expect her to release decent pictures…we followed her back to the Luther office. The angles fit the locations we have caught her in.”

His thumb pressed hard against the pen.

“Show me this bitch,” he growled under his breath.

Another email ping and a link later, your face filled the computer screen. Your eyes burned him right back…you were in a few photos. Some where you hid among a roof top, another you were hiding in a corner at the restaurant, and finally one where you were just in a park looking down at your camera probably going over the shots you’d taken.

“Want us to deal with her, sir?” he suddenly heard Wesley ask. Deal with her...Destroy her reputation...beat her up…sell her…or kill her....no…no...not his new puppy.

He blinked with bewilderment and hummed, “No...” He cleared his throat, “No, no thankyou, Wesley. I know this kid; don’t worry…” he smirked, “This is just a simple misunderstanding…bit of…play. Trust me.”

Oh how he could’ve whipped the skin from your back raw for this if you were anyone else...

“Sir, if you can’t get her to stop, if she’s going to keep doing this…” Gibson warned, “Anything more in depth- you’ll wind up in court or prison at the worst, the pigs aren’t taking the pay like they used to…”

August shook his head and sighed, “It wouldn’t be the first time Wesley. Ignore her. I’ll deal with it. She’s my responsibility.”

His public relations officer seemed to pause for a moment. As if he had something else to say but he knew better than to total talk back to August Walker.

“Alright sir, have a good evening,” August heard before he slapped the phone, hanging up.

He scooted closer to the screen and scrolled back at the photos you’d taken. He bit his lip and chuckled, shaking his head at your profiling photo, “You little-...you want to play this game? Fine, now it’s my turn.”

He began dialling up a new phone number. He held it back up to his ear and waited for the receiver to pick up.

“Jude mate, I’m gonna need you to develop some photos for me...oh yes,” he replied pinching the pen in his hand, “Red room style.”

06:19pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane.

“Who needs a man? Huh!” You said to yourself testing out the new bolts and chain locks you installed on the front door. They rattled and locked. They didn’t budge when you jiggled the handle and pulled. You still had three more you planned to drill in.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead and grinned proudly. This is something your dad should have taught you how to do. Thankfully with the help of a YouTube tutorial and a bit of bravery you managed to take full control and ownership of your front door.

If your new landlord wanted to charge you for damages to his door, so be it, as long as this kept you protected from him while you slept at night that was all that mattered. He’d either have to pick every complicated lock, guess or, he’d have to hire the damn firefighting crew to use a battering ram.

When you opened the door again to test it a second time, a squeak of surprised popped from your lips. You clenched your dad’s power tool tightly.

A man in a black suit and black sunglasses stood outside the door with an large yellow envelope in his hand. He held it out to you silently. He looked ominous and familiar, he wore leather gloves…your eye widened, he was August’s driver.

You glanced between him and his hands. Every second was a risk you weren’t sure you could keep taking. You hesitantly pinched the bottom of his flat package and he let go. He pulled the edge of his sunglasses down his face, looking at the plethora of door locks.

‘What was his name again? Judea, Judas?’

He said quietly, “It might be better if you open it inside...” his eyes glanced at the door again before smirking, “Nice locks...pretty crappy if you think it’s going to stop him though.”

‘Him...August Walker...’

You stood still in shock. He gracefully spun on his heel and left. Your tongue caught in your throat…what the fuck was this?

The package was as thick as your hand.

You had to know it was from August…I mean who else could it be from? Especially since you speculated it was his driver that delivered it…especially since there was a massive cursive ‘A.J.W’ on the tab of the envelope.

You held your breath and walked hurriedly backwards inside.

Your teeth caught your upper lip. You slammed the door shut and locked all the locks before going to the couch, disposing the drill on the coffee table, and tearing open the envelope.

You pinched the top wide open and hovered your eyes inside. There was a white papery page ripped out from a note book. You pulled it out and unfolded it to read his handwritten warning.

“Careful Puppy, you’re lucky my men didn’t bite when they sniffed you out, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I think you need a break from your little hobby. So I’m going to remind you...I have copies of these. Scratch me again and I’ll bite back. Stay down or I will put you down.”

Your mouth became dry as your eyes raced over that one last line again.

‘Stay down or I will put you down.’

When you ‘put down’ an animal, it usually means death…your insides grew cold. You were confident this was a strict warning, not a threat but a promise, August walker was telling you to stop investigating or he would kill you…

Your hands shook uncontrollably. You wanted them to stop. Your body felt the reeling anxiety. You dumped the rest of the envelope over the counter. All the content spilled across the entire floor. A camera came clattering out. Your father’s camera in fact.

Inside were photos of you. A photo of you working in the editor office. A photo of you walking in the deli section at the underground Woolworths grocery store and photos of you sitting at the Queen street bus station, even the bus numbers showed up. The bus 200 via Carindale. Then at the bottom of the spread out deck of photos were the shots from the night he forced you to cum on the recliner and the night he had drugged you, naked on his bed.

Your teeth clenched hard.

You felt your eyes grow hot quickly with tears. You didn’t like how pathetic and helpless you appeared, covered in tape, and totally lost in the bliss of his sexual torture. You didn’t realise how sweaty it had made you until noticing the intense wet shimmer over your body in the photo, the hot light of the camera shone reflectively from your skin.

You closed your eyes and choked on a sob. He made his point loud and clear but it wasn’t fair. Why could he get away with all of this? You wanted to tear all the photos up one by one until they were tiny papers the size of your pinky nail.

But they sat in a piled collection on your coffee table.

Your hand cupped your mouth as you fought your wails. You clenched your teeth and stomped your foot.

You kept rereading his note. Memorising his handwriting. His Y’s had a straight tail that didn’t curve upward. It made you hate him twice as much as irrational that detail was.

August hadn’t come back since then. He had not made any personal contact since he cornered you in your father’s bedroom. It wasn’t the last time you saw him though…you saw him almost daily, but you confidently were sure he never saw you until now. You were gathering all the evidence possible to put him in the doghouse...

You pressed yourself against the wall and slid down it on your back until your bottom hit the floor.

Now what would you do? Take photos and write about abused animals instead? Always worrying about August coming into your home to take his revenge for the humiliation and defamation you brought to his name?

You settled your hands into your lap. Your heart was pounding. You could hear every awful thud.

Your phone came to life. Lloyds number ran across your screen.

‘Oh god, Lloyd. Sweet, wonderful Lloyd. Maybe he could help me.’

Hitting the green button, you picked up the phone and cleared your throat, “Hey, how are you?”

His voice was a cool balm, “I’m getting on alright. I thought I’d call and check up on you. You haven’t been very chatty over text is all. I still think you should move Y/N.”

Lloyd kept you as updated as he could. He said he interviewed August a few days ago and the excuse was laughable. August had lied about being at his club during the time he had been with you. He had staff members who could vouch for him, Lloyd suggested they’d been paid off and supposedly security footage, all which Lloyd assured must’ve been edited. It was comforting knowing out of everyone, Lloyd stayed true in his belief that you were a victim.

Another tear rolled down your face, your voice became shaky, “Yea...I think you’re right. Lloyd...things have been happening...and...can you- can you just come over please?”

You were breaking down hard and couldn’t stop the wave of anguish coming over you. The detective was compassionate and said softly, “Of course. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

When the phone disconnected you rubbed your face and flared your nostrils. Seeing the photos made you feel dirty, unclean. You decided a quick shower before Lloyd arrived might help you relax and calm down from the absolute panic attack creeping under your skin. You stood under the hot spray and tried to control your breathing.

And under the water your thoughts persisted to race. A particular question shot through you.

‘Why would he even send those to me?’ Your eyes shut. ‘Why’? If you were just some women, he liked to fuck and humiliate... ‘Then why didn’t he just come in and do it in person?’

It was like a pin had dropped. Your eyes flashed wide open, and you turned off the water. You scrubbed your face and got out of the shower, rushing to put your pyjamas on. You almost slipped on the tiles and hard wood.

You crashed to your knees at the coffee table and spread the photos around trying to find that one.

The one where you were sitting inside the editor building at your cubicle. It had been taken from a low angle on the street. A small laugh escaped you. If he sent you an image of you at the office he knew where you worked, and who you worked for…he had read your articles...a light laugh escaped your parting lips. Tears dripped from your eyes, not from grief or fear, oh no, it was relief. Now it made sense.

'Of course!' August had read your articles...and they- you chuckled; they frightened him!!! Yes, maybe not to the extent of full fear, but enough that he felt it fit and necessary to send these too you. He felt threatened. The articles were piling up on speculation against him now in the paper. You were walking a thin line between defamation and creative liberties in alleged speculations, but Mr Luther assured it was legal in the laws of journalism and gossip.

If August had copies of your lewd rape photos, if he published them…you didn’t care...what was the point in caring about that?

You knew humans could be animals. It didn’t matter what was seen. Anyone can masturbate to anything, even just a selfie – so an image of you cumming on the recliner chair was really nothing at the end of the day…sure you might lose your job but the confidence to get you there would be used in the future again. And it would be all worth it just to watch the cuffs slap over August’s wrist. Because even if he’d never go away, locked up for your abuse, you could at least drag him further down with as many criminal activity charges as possible.

You glanced at the note he wrote…maybe he didn’t even write this. If he really wanted you dead, you were sure you would be. This wasn’t a threat, this was a game. He was toying with you, clearly trying to scare you into stopping any investigations of his hidden underground work.

Little did he know, he had no idea that your rage and hunger for revenge was greater than your fear of him.

You pinched a photo to the light and smirked. If only a week ago, this poor defenceless girl knew how her life would change for good...her eyes the mirror of yours. You slapped it flat in the table and pinched your eyes. August was definitely no talent in taking photos.

You smiled recalling how Luther reacted to the first photo you brought him the third day of working...

02:36pm Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

On the sticky note you’d written down a name Mr Luther had shared. You looked up that name, Brandon Sullivan, with deep dive searches and found very little of him…however he did have a single photo up on his Facebook, he was holding a gorgeous woman.

Once you had reversed search the woman’s face, Katarina Vikander, you could have peed with excitement. She was some Swedish ballet dancer and super model. She was Brandons girlfriend. And she was happy to share a dozen photos over all her social media platforms…and yes, Brandon clearly wasn’t a fan of his personal paparazzi, but there were hiccups in his cover ups.

Katarina had taken a selfie on a balcony; her sunglasses reflected her phone and Brandon coming out of their hotel bathroom.

Behind Katarina was a marina in the background. That area was very rich and popular and easy to find. You recognised the area only by chance. The were staying at the JW Marriot Gold Coast Resort and Spa. You could see the JW Marriot logo on a bath robe in a previous photo while she wore a creamy face mask with cucumber slices over her eyes.

Katarina seemed to have this obsession with a Americana aesthetic, her favourite artist was in her saved Instagram stories, Lana del Rey.

The caption of her post with Brandon hidden in the background under a broad brim hat said, “Sunny and happy with my love, he doesn’t like the seafood here, he wants ‘real truffles.’ **eyeroll emoji**”

You remembered how you sat back after seeing that and searched every restaurant in the area of the Gold Coast region and only one sold authentic truffle dishes…men are fickle and usually won’t try new things…he was clearly a man set in his ways if he wouldn’t let her post photos of him. or at least that was your theory and assumption about the almost non-existent Brandon Sullivan.

You went back and searched August. He had a decent amount of information, he was very private however, no named girlfriends or family. He was very business oriented….and what did you know? Two years ago on his LinkedIn profile you could see August had been at the opening of the same little truffle restaurant nearby where Katrina and Brandon were staying. You scrolled.

‘Looks like he was or still is an investor.’

It wasn’t solid evidence, and you didn’t know if August would be there to meet with them…so all it took, was a simple phone call…and the great skill of confidence with a stride of lying.

As the phone dialed, you selected a fake name. Your co-worker had a F.R.I.E.N.D.S coffee mug, and you stared at the dark drink stain…it’s dark colour making a perfect name.

When a staff member of the restaurant answered you hurriedly got through your plotted lie, “Hello? Yes, my name is…Jennifer Brown, I’m Mr August Walkers new assistant…listen his last employee was quite begrudged and threw out all the known appointments Mr Walker was to attend in the next three months. I’m pretty sure he has a table booked for your restaurant?”

The administrator paused. You hoped he wouldn’t ask you to repeat yourself or question you further, so you sarcastically joked, “He will murder me if I can’t find out, it’s very important.”

You prayed he’d bite the banter.

The administration clerk had a boyish tone, “Of course! Would you like me to look up the time and date of his reservation?”

You smirked and held back a cackle, you feigned a sweet joyful cry, “I would be grateful if you could be a dear, thank you so much!”

And that was how you found out the schedule and exact location of August Walker and his criminal associate.

09:45am Friday 9th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

Getting inside the restaurant wasn’t too hard. It had an open-door area with French doors. You made sure to wear a large sun hat and a plain dress. Your dad owned a small camera, about the size of an apple. You put it on a timer and leant to the floor, aiming the view finder at their table.

The entire time you swore you were sweating bullets. If August had seen you and confronted you, you probably would be chained to a pipe laying naked on a dirty mattress…maybe with those missing women you heard about on the news, Rachel, Stephanie, and Alison.

‘Why didn’t he keep me then? We did he return me back home? Did he kill those other girls?’ the more you thought too deeply on the topic, it made your skin crawl.

You clenched one of the forks, staring at the kingpin in the reflection. He looked to smug for a man that got off on harming women. You wished you could stab out his eyes with the prongs. And when the waiter came around to ask what you wanted to order, you held up the fork and requested a new one, apologising for “dropping it”.

You determined the camera had taken enough footage. You knew you’d need to make your escape when the waiter left to find you a new fork. Afterall- who can afford to pay for a cut of salmon with rocket leaves and white sauce for a hundred and thirteen fucking dollars?

You went straight home on the train and bus. You developed the photos in the bathroom sink. Hanging it up on the shower rails to set.

Those were the first photos you gave Mr. Luther.

The other times you took photos of Brandon and August were harder, a little more risky.

06:23am Saturday 10th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

You had staked outside of the hotel where Brandon stayed. Waiting across the street in a side street. It was cold and miserable. But you knew August would be down here. Darling Katarina had posted a photo of her shoes in an elevator, beside her feet were Brandons shoes, but his had a shine. You could see the blur of Augusts moustached face. Maybe it was a reach, except when the caption said, “Lions Lounge anyone? Don’t my heels look incredible! **love heart eyes emoji**”

You were dressed in rags, you clenched a juul stick you bought that morning, gagging on the watermelon flavour while you practiced your “Eshay” accent. You stared up at the windows trying to guess which room the three were in with the help of the ex-ballerinas photos.

A month ago, you would’ve thought doing something like this was insane and frankly unhealthy. But you a month ago had not been humiliated and manipulated, God knows what a woman will do once you’ve pissed her off…was it obsession? Most definitely, for revenge, for justice, for all the girls who fell for August and harmed by his reputation.

You waited…and you were right. Brandon and August walking out together. The sweet young woman was clinging to Brandon’s side with a wide girlish smile and love heart shaped sunglasses. Funnily enough, the car that picked them up just so happened to be driven by the same dark headed driver in the same black car that August took you in. You took a snapshot of the license plate and watched it drive through the somewhat slow traffic down the street. You walked and walked, keeping your eyes set on the license plate. While traffic rolled, you turned and noted there were a few empty taxis.

You took off the jumper that you cut a bunch of holes in and dumped it in a garbage bin before bending down and tapping on one of the taxi windows.

“Hey! Are you available to drive me?” You called to one of the taxi drivers that hadn’t noticed you until that second...his eyes widened with surprise before nodding, “quickly, traffic is slow, hop in!”

You slid directly into the passenger side, which on a normal day you’d never dare.

But today wasn’t a normal day. You sat up in your seat and scrolled the area with your eyes.

“So where are we headed today, ma’am?” The driver asked.

You pointed ahead with a cheeky smile, “See that black car? The fancy one.”

“The tesla?” He asked.

“My friends are in that car, so please follow it. They know the way.”

He peered at you curiously, you knew it was stupid. If you had friends rich enough for a tesla, they’d never leave you to find a taxi. But hey…money is money, the driver wouldn’t argue. He started the timer and to your satisfaction traffic picked up. When they zoomed through the street the taxi tried to keep up. They were driving to a quieter street with Western Europeanised cafe’s.

As they stopped and hoped out you quickly requested to the driver, “Do you mind going around the corner? I’m a little embarrassed.”

God, you hated to say it but you had to play the suddenly snobby cunt.

He didn’t care either way to your relief and parked around the corner, metres away from the two men.

You paid the driver handsomely with cash you managed to find in your old piggy bank back home and slid out of the cab. Your face carefully looked around the corner and you skirted back. August, Brandon and Katarina had decided to sit outside in the warm morning sunlight. It was just your luck! Quickly, you crossed the street away from the cafe. The more distance the better.

To your luck it was a block of units across from the cafe. You walked around the building and kept your head down. You came up behind in an alley and smiled at the long spiral stairs that went up to the roof top. The adrenaline extinguished all fear of heights and pushed you up until you stood out on a flat roof. You crossed the way and looked over the side.

‘Fuck’, you thought to yourself. ‘Would a police officer ever do this? Would Lloyd ever have the guts to do this?’

Probably not, there was lots of red tape involved in police investigations...but you were just a reporter...You were a photographic investigator and you amazed yourself at the lengths you were taking. You were eager to get these shots. This evidence.

You saw the pair of businessmen receiving a cup of tea and breakfast meals from the waitress. Getting down onto your tummy, you grabbed your camera and leant over the ledge to zoom in on the two.

The pumping blood roaring in your vein filled you with a mixture of fear, excitement and surprisingly…arousal.

Those were the photos that made it to the papers first.

06:35pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba Brisbane.

As you reminisced on the evidential demise of August Walker, a knock at the door designed a bigger grin across your face. Lloyd had arrived. And no longer standing in a fit of sobs you welcome him cheerfully at the door.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks, totally out of uniform. Below his eye was a reddish spot. It was shining against his pale face. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was a bruise.

‘Many police are brutal and cruel but there’s no way Lloyd is one. He isn’t one of those cops...he must’ve been attacked by some bogan eshay or crackhead.’

His smile turned your knees to warm jelly. You felt shy like some first year highschooler being noticed by the seniors. He just had this glow around him.

“Hi Lloyd.”

“Hello there,” he said softly, his head cocked to the side, “Do you mind letting me in?” He asked.

‘Oh right.’

“Come- come in.”

You felt your face grow warm. You opened the door wider and looked out and down the hall. You held your breath and stood aside. The tall man slid passed you inside to your lounge room.

You took a massive breath in and exhaled. No one was waiting behind a corner or ready to catch you with the officer. You knew there were no security cameras and you doubted August would ever add any with his reputation.

Lloyd removed his leather shoes and placed them beside the door. His black socks glided over the hardwood.

You bit your lip…you looked back at the coffee table and quickly shut the door, bolting the locks after the detective entered your flat.

If August knew you were letting a detective inside, continuing to talk to one he could-…’Well, hold on...how would he know? He wouldn’t.’

“Woah, locked me in, what are you doing?” Lloyd gasped as he glanced over the metal mechanisms of your door. His eyes widened when you twisted the locks and shifted the small chains.

“I just...um. August Walker.... he’s kinda now...my new landlord and he probably will be getting keys soon and I....” your breath wavered. You paused and took a deep breath, “I needed to talk to you privately in person I think....”

His eyes didn’t grow any wider, but his pupils shrank. He pinched his dark pink lips. Sucking his teeth loudly he nodded slowly.

“That’s definitely a pickle you’ve been put into then, huh?”

You nodded back, pressing yourself against the door, sighing softly, “That’s not even the half of it Lloyd...”

His eyes raked up and down your body in surprise. You weren’t wearing your bra and your nipples were rock hard. Your pyjama bottoms were very short and little did you realise how much they were riding up your thighs.

You walked around him timidly to the coffee table.

“I got a new job, as a photographer journalist, no real experience required just my luck honestly,” you awkwardly laughed, “August um, he’s supposedly up to no good and I thought I could have a jab at him from a professional angle…”

You sat yourself in the recliner, while you invited him to sit opposite of you on the couch where he’d be able to properly look at all the photos.

He looked frightfully tired. His hair was dishevelled, and his shirt was stain with sweat. He had a nasty purple bruise on his knuckles that also matched the one under his eye.

You lifted your knees to your chest and worried about how much trouble this man was getting into as well as you. You wondered if it was like television shows where detectives mostly focus on the darkside of the force.

You gestured to the photos. You weren’t sure how he would react. He sat on the couch and peered across the coffee table, glancing over the images. It took him a few seconds before a gasp of shock ripped from his throat.

You tapped on the photos where you’d been stalked and seen taking photos of August, “Well, it shows he’s not one to have his photos taken...”

He was shaking his head. He couldn’t stop staring at the nude photos. And for a few seconds you relived that feeling of embarrassed humiliation.

You could see how his throat bobbed and his eyes flutter.

He leant forward on his knees and licked his lips.

“I...and here I had called you to check up on you and I was going to ask you for help Y/N, but god I don’t know if that’s gonna work now,” he sighed.

The detective ran a finger across your face in the lewd photos.

Your eyes narrowed, “Wh-what do you mean?”

There was a lengthy pause.

He chewed the inside of his cheek before asking, “How much do you hate what August did to you?”

You didn’t hesitate, “I’d kill him for what he’s done if I knew I wouldn’t go to prison…” you briefly looked down, “He…he came back like you said...”

Lloyd eyes glanced down too and he sighed, “Thought as much…let me guess…he threatened you?”

Your eyes fluttered closed, August had done more than just threaten you.

You nodded slowly, “He…he did…but he…is possessive, he kept saying I was his and I belong to him.” You pointed to the photo of you taped up on the recliner.

His brows pressed together, his eyes saddened. He clear his throat, “How long ago was that?”

Your mouth grew dry. You felt embarrassed telling Lloyd.

“The day of the report, after you brought me home.”

His eyes widened, his hand rubbed his parted lips, “So he ugh…he was here already?”

You nodded again, “The call you made… he was standing right here with a knife in his hand.”

“That’s why you have those deadbolts huh?” The officer rubbed his eyes and groaned, “Fuck. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me after he left? I could’ve moved you, you could’ve stayed with me at least until I could put you into witness protection. Fuck!”

His swearing sent a shiver down your spine.

Your looked at your feet, you knew he wasn’t victim blaming, he just didn’t understand. You told Lloyd everything…confessed like he was your priest. You told him what August did with the vibrator despite it bringing you to tears again. You told him he was the new landlord and that’s why you installed the extra locks. You told him about your new job and you told him about the photos and how you were going to help however you could to put the bastard away.

You sat off the recliner and slid the photos back into the envelope.

“You’re very brave Y/N,” Lloyd whispered, he reached out and laid his warm hand on top of yours.

Your belly felt warm at the praise. You let him hold your fingers in his and rubbed his thumb over your skin. You stared at his blonde moustache and those bright clue eyes of his. You imagined his mouth scratching your lip if you only leant in closer...he was still as handsome as the day he patiently listened to you in the report.

Lloyd smiled softly.

God if you were a cat you would’ve been feral and in heat with how creative your imagination was getting.

Your eyes fluttered as your entire body warmed up.

“Y-You said you needed help with something?”

He smirked, letting go of your hand.

He claimed, “After what you’ve told me I’m confident you can do it...but you might not like it…”

“Try me,” you huffed, falling victim to his contagious grin.

“I have two tickets to August’s little Soiree at his club The Lions Lounge,” He started off, “My other sources have confirmed there is going to be some form of arms deal with some unsavoury company, illegal, unregistered weapons. August Walker is very good at knowing the law and requesting a warrant… but the sources I have are not substantial to the board to guarantee a warrant by that night and by that time Walker would’ve moved the weapons and sold them in a different location.”

You pieced it bit by bit.

“So you need to get inside the party, find the deal going down and bust them?”

“Exactly, that’s right! However the moment a single man waltzes to the front door it looks suspicious. I need a lady on the arm…and better yet…I need a distraction for Walker, if he sees me head on, I could be as good a shark chow.”

Your eyes lit up, it didn’t take a genius to realise he meant you. You would be the distraction. And you’d be damned before you put yourself in real danger again especially after the threat August had given you...your photos were taken in public, this would be in private. Anything could happen to you.

“No… that is too dangerous, Lloyd,” You stood up and paced the floor in front of Lloyd who was now also rising to follow you in your pacing. You walked around your kitchen and Lloyd put his hands on the bench beside you.

“Y/N…” he bent close in a whisper. You wouldn’t look at the detective. Fear was buzzing inside of you. You felt stupid about saying you’d do anything to take August Walker down now. You really wanted to just humiliate the man and call him up in prison one day and rub it in his face. But this? This was a game of cat and mouse and you didn’t want to be backed up into a corner again.

“I wouldn’t be asking you if this unless I had to...”

You bit back the whimper in your throat as Lloyd touched your shoulder gently.

“He let you live…he has a soft spot for you.”

‘He threatened to put me down.’

He turned you around and squeezed your arms while he pitched the plan, “What’ll happen is we enter the club, I find the dealers and you find Walker because he will be hosting the party, he will want to know why you’re there and you are going to tell him that…you wanted to see him.”

You rubbed your eyes angrily, “Why the fuck would I want to see him?!” your fingers felt moist, you’d been compelled to tears.

The kind eyed detective sucked his teeth, “I don’t know, make it up. Kiss him. Men don’t care about a thing once a pretty thing is kissing them.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. No, this wasn’t the Lloyd you had imagined.

“Oh,” you chuckled sourly, “So you’re pimping me out then?”

He gave you a dumbfounded look, “Call it whatever you want…you’ll be paid good money for your service and he’ll be arrested, in prison, unable to touch you. You can run away and move to wherever you want then.”

Your breath was shaky as you dared to ask, “How much?”

His left brow rose.

“How much would I be paid by the Queensland police or Australian defence department or whoever this is through?”

He sighed and gently laid a hand on your shoulder, “Around fifteen grand.”

Your breath escaped you. From near negatives to fifteen grand overnight? That much? For this job?! You were stunned…not sure if it was worth your life…but if it meant he only humiliate you one more time and you walked away with that much money…you’d do it.

You shook your head, “Fine, it’s this Friday night yea? His club is high-class and I don’t have clothes for that type of event.”

The tall man stood back and chuckled as he tug into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pinched a wad of cash and slapped it in the benchtop. Your eyes widened, holy fuck it was a month or two in rent alone…

“Go buy some. But you have got to be ready. At Seven o’clock I’ll pick you up an hour before the event and we can refresh what we know before we line up.”

You glanced between him and the money and nodded….”Alright, let’s…let’s do this.”

He laughed and clapped his hand excitedly, he leant in and gave you a fat kiss on the cheek. Nothing romantic, just pure joy.

“Thankyou so much Y/N you are going to be hailed a hero, a legend in my books!” He marched back to the couch and grabbed his blazer.

“You are a special person and I’m honoured to have met you! Really honoured!” He said as he unlocked all your bolts. He swung the door open and slammed it behind him.

You sighed and fell back against your cold fridge.

You weren’t sure you could pull this off….but as your eyes looked over the cash, the corner of your lips lifted.

You shut your eyes and sighed…all that money, it made your blood pulse. You returned to the lounge room and sat in the recliner. You laid back, staring at the ceiling. Your hands crawled down, passed the waist band of your pyjama shorts and underwear. You touched yourself and sighed.

Your fingers rubbed delicately against your clit while you leant against the kitchen bench.

You tried to imagine someone...Lloyd…the detective. He had a warmth his face. Lloyd would never rape you though, he was good, he was honest…

You moaned softly, imagining his warm hands groping your skin and his lips kissing your skin.

Fingering yourself, in and out, in and out.

You were imagining Lloyd speaking to you. He was currently the most attractive man you’d made contact with in weeks...other than August who essentially raped you.

What kind words would Lloyd say? “I washed our clothes, finished the dishes, now come here and let me fuck you.” ‘Oh yea that’s fucking hot.’

You imagined he would be gentle and soft before using more strength in his hips. His lips would be soft and hot. He would protect you and play sexy policeman. You might not have been a fan of the justice system but you were confident Lloyd would fill in a police uniform very well.

So why did your body start to dry up?

You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You were riding your fingers and teasing your clit…why couldn’t you cum? You felt weird doing this now. It was strange to think before you met August you could cum very easily, after your dad- well you hadn’t touched yourself because you weren’t thinking about sex for a while until the millionaire stepped into your life.

After the third time of unsuccessful release, you punched the arm of the chair and started searching sex toys on your phone.

You weren’t totally sure if the prices were worth it for a piece of painted pink silicone. And there were strange shapes you were amazed were even designed to fit into a human….‘a whole fist? Surely that’s satire,’ you thought, ‘it shouldn’t be possible. It would be like reverse birth?’

You settled on buying a “rabbit dildo with thrusting pleasure.” You rolled your eyes at the name. You slapped your phone down and sighed, rubbing your eyes.

The hour was late.

Your first paycheck would be coming in soon. It was the smell of a small victory.

10:33am Friday 16th August 2024, Queen Street Westfield Shopping centre, Brisbane.

“What should I wear…” you hummed as you flipped through the dresses. Some of these dresses cost the amount of a new iPhone. You bit your lip. ‘Maybe I can return them tomorrow and give Lloyd his money back?’

A sales clerk came up, “Need some help?” She was blonde, curvy and tall. A supermodel compared to your body. You blushed.

“I’m looking to wear something to one of the high end clubs like The Lion Lounge, he’s having a nineteen twenties theme soiree this evening?”

Her lips widened, “Well, we do have many suitable gowns and even pantsuits for that social class, what designer were you thinking?”

You balked and worried that she would see you sweat, “Oh…I um…I’ll be super frank…I have not a clue what I’m doing…it is my first time to something so spectacular.”

The clerk’s eyes softened, her lips pursed, “Well! Let me help you then! These gowns you’re looking at are definitely not old twenties glam worthy! Right this way!”

Your cheeks buzzed as you were led into a dressing room and made to try on multiple styles, designers and colours of dresses.

She asked if you were getting your nails done and gasped when you said you hadn’t thought about it.

She was like a fairy godmother. She went the extra mile to call up the other stores in the mall to book appointments. You hadn’t felt so pretty ever in your life until then

She appeared stunned by the cash you laid on her counter.

Your nails were french tips with a holographic clear coat. You received a quick arm and leg wax and eyebrow shaping. The makeup matched the entire outfit. Your dress clung to your best assets and shaped your body with a clutch purse and low heels to match. Your hair was gelled and hairsprayed down into finger waves. And a lather of pearls circled around your throat and wrists.

The long finger of your dress tickled your calfs down to your small kitten heels.

You looked incredible, it took your breath away to see the glow up….

Lloyd thought so too.

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

101 notes · View notes

chubbyreaderchan · 1 year

Text

Pinky Promises | Michael Myers x F!Reader

Summary: Michael’s childhood friend finds her way back into his life. He becomes obsessed with her when he remembers their promise to each other.

1, 2, 3, 4 (???? Maybe)

A/n: This is actually going to be a series I finish. I have part 2 halfway written already and I think it will be about 3/4 parts. The warnings won’t apply to this one other than the childhood trauma of being torn from the best friend, but in future parts, they will both be adults and there will be adult content that I will label at the beginning.

Also, there will be yandere situations with Michael and reader is morally grey as an adult.

"Michael!"

The small boy turned his head and stands from the dirt pile the young boy was playing in. He walked to the chain link fence and looked down the sidewalk at a young girl running towards him. She pushed a bright pink baby buggy towards his house and he tried not to smile.

"Hi," she giggled, out of breath before Michael.

"Hi," he repeated after her.

His fingers gripped the cold metal wires and he peers at what was in the stroller. Often she'd bring a variety of toys in the familiar vehicle. Wooden swords, "cooking" dishes, and her baby doll that she called Mickey Jr.

"Do you wanna play with me again today?" She asked with a bright smile on her face.

His heart pounded in his chest at her cheeky grin. He looked up at her, nodding before unlatching the fence with a clink. The sound of metal against the sidewalk seemed to harmonize with the sound of wind chimes in the late summer afternoon.

"Do you want to play mommies and daddies? Or--"

Her toys were strewn about the Myer's front yard. Michael was holding tight to the small doll in his hands, following anything that the small girl had planned for him.

He simply nodded.

Just as Michael passed the doll to (Y/n) a car pulled up in front of the house. Judy and he boyfriend exited the dark blue car, he pinched at Judy and she giggled as they raced up to the house.

"Hey, Mikey," the boyfriend cooed. "Is this your little girlfriend?"

"Come on, Danny. Before my parents get home," Judy said tugging him into the house.

Michael looked at (Y/n) his head cocking to the side at the word Danny used.

"Michael!" The shrill voice filled his ears again.

"Do you want to look at clouds with me today?" She asked, cocking her head to the side slightly once she was in front of his house.

He popped open the gate again and she grinned. Michael's heart fluttered as she dropped to the ground. Her feet were bare and caked in dirt. Her toes wiggled against the grass as the found the perfect spot for cloud watching, not far from either of their houses.

"We were planting a tree in our backyard," she said when she noticed he was staring at he toes. Then she spun and flopped to the ground with a laugh.

Michael stiffly sat down and laid next to her. He froze when he felt the slightly taller girl cuddle up to his side and rested her head on his shoulder.

The boy felt his face heat up, and her hand tangled with his.

She squeaked in delight as she pointed at clouds above them with her free hand.

"Look that one looks like a pumpkin," she giggled.

He didn't look.

He was looking at her. That was until she looked at him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I love you Michael," she whispered.

She smelled like fruity candy and honey shampoo.

"When we are all grown up, can we get married?" She asked, looking at him.

He looked at the sky, thoughtful for a moment.

"Yes,"

"Pinky promise?" She held up her pinky.

He hooked his into hers.

"Promise,"

A big smile cracked along her face and Michael's heart pounded in his chest.

Fall was in full swing.

Michael could hear screaming. At first he thought it was just another Halloween prank. But then (Y/n) was running down the street screaming.

Her parents on her tail as she ran to Michael pushing the gate open and running to where he was standing on his porch.

"Don't let them take me, Michael" she shouted, pulling him into her vice grip.

He returned it, protective hold even at the age of six he was quite strong.

"We are moving to California. I don't want to move. I don't wanna!" She said.

Her parents' hands moved to pry them away. Michael felt his own mother and sister grab him.

"No!" She screamed, piercing his ears and sending ice into his veins. Her tears tracked down her cheeks and his heart went numb.

"Michael don't let them take me,"

He reached for her hand and she was torn from his grip.

"Michael!"

"Daddy let me go! We pinky promised," she shouted.

#michal myers x reader #chapter 1 #part 1 #michael myers x reader #michael myers x y/n #slashers x reader #slasher huggers #slashers imagines #slashers romance #childhood friends to lovers #Pinky Promises | Michael Myers x F!Reader

723 notes · View notes

melanieph321 · 1 month

Text

Gabriel Medina x Reader - Untamable Part 2/8

Part 1

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy!

Nemo wanted to walk on his own. He stumbled out of your grandmother house with no sense of direction at all. The still gathered crowd regarded him curiously as he made his way down the driveway. You walked not too far behind, ignoring the mumbles around you. The neighbors had stayed for this moment alone. The moment you would come face to face with—"

"Y/N."

A white Chevrolet with its widows tinted, stood parked along the sidewalk. Beside it stood a man dressed in a grey t-shirt and board shorts.

"Gabriel?" His name escaped your mouth unintentionally. Almost like a fever dream. He looked nothing like you remembered him, having left him as a boy with a cheeky smile and chubby cheeks. Before you stood a man, dark wavy hair and a sleeve covered in tattoos. His face was carved along his sharpened jaw, and a goatie grew on his chin below his mustache covered lips. He was fairly built, the bumps of his muscles visible through his straining t-shirt. And he was tall, almost two heads taller than yourself.

"Papa."

Gabriel's gaze left yours, shifting towards the ground. There, with his hands stretched above his head, was Nemo, who recognized Gabriel as the man from the pictures kept above his nightstand.

The crowd behind you sighed. Some of them even shed tears, watching Gabriel pick up Nemo in his arms, batting away his own tears.

"Go to him."

Your grandmother shoved you from behind. You stood frozen in the middle of the driveway. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't move.

"Gabriel, Gabriel. Can I have your autograph?"

Soon, the heartfelt crowd turned into a violent mob. Pushing each other in order to get closer to Gabriel, who was still holding Nemo in his arms.

"Please, please. I'm such a big fan. Can I just have one autograph?"

The neighborhood kids were the most brutal, fighting their way to get a chance to meet arguably one of the greatest surfers to have emerged from Brazil.

"Please." Gabriel said, trying to calm them down. "I'm only here for my family."

Things happened so fast. The escalation of the crowd forced Gabriel off the sidewalk and towards the house. He grabbed you along the way. Holding onto your hand until the silence of your grandmother's house fell upon you.

"Jesus." He said, running a hand through his hair. "That was crazy."

Nemo suddenly erupted in tears, crying for you to hold him. You did so, unhanding him from Gabriel.

"Poor baby." Your grandmother was not impressed. "How people can get. You'd think someone told them that the king was coming."

"Michael Jackson?"

"No, Elvis."

"Oh. Well, I'm really sorry about that." Gabriel said, watching you rock Nemo in your arms. "I really didn't think it would get this crazy."

"Maybe next time warn us before coming." Your grandmother gesticulated vividly with her hands. "This is São Sebastião not Rio de Janeiro. We aren't used to super surfistas like you casually paying us a visit. It would cause a riot."

"Mas vovó, eu também sou daqui." (But grandma, I'm from here too.)

"Please. Your family couldn't wait to abandon us as soon as they got a hold of a little money. Save your sweet talk for somebody else."

"Vovó" You frowned. She was being awfully rude.

"Just give the baby to me." She sneered. "I'm sure the two of you have a lot of things to catch up on."

You gave Nemo to your grandmother and suddenly found yourself alone in a room with the man you once loved.

"Y/N." Your name escaped his lips with such ease, like butter, and when he stepped forward to hug you all you could do was to oblige to the large arms that wrap around your body, hugging you tightly.

"Gabriel... I can't breathe." You tapped him on the shoulder.

He pulled back. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay."

"It's really not. This was meant to happen sooner."

"What?"

"Meeting you and the baby. But my family—"

"It's okay." You assured. The last thing you wanted to do was discuss Gabriel and the complicated relationship he had to his family. You had faced enough of that in your life.

"Let's just savor the moment." You said. "You're here now, aren't you?"

Gabriel smiled softly but fell victim to staring into your eyes for too long. Long enough to make the moment akward again.

"Sorry." He caught himself and chuckled. "It's just that you look so different."

"Me?" You frowned. "You're the one who put on a cows weight in muscle mass."

Gabriel's laughter sprung something within you, something you thought had died a long time ago.

"What's wrong?"

He saw the slight conflict that appeared in your eyes, seizing his laughter.

"Nothing I....I'm fine. A bit tired I guess."

"Don't worry. I'll drive us back to Maresias before sundown."

"Pardon?"

"What?" Gabriel shoved his hands into his pockets. His expression goes back to being annoyingly relaxed.

"What did you say about Maresias?"

"Oh, I said I'll get us there before sundown. Traffic here is way faster than in the city."

"We're not going to Maresias." The furrow of your brows deepened.

"Erm... but I thought that's what we agreed on. For you and Nemo to stay with me for the summer?"

"No, we agreed to stay closer to you in the summer. That's why we're here in São Sebastião, so that you can come and visit us without the hassle of coming all the way to the city."

Gabriel appeared bit disoriented. "So you're not coming to stay with me in Maresias?"

"No, absolutely not. What would even make you think—." You stopped yourself. The expression on Gabriel's face saying it all. The letters. One of which burned in your pocket.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel." You said softly. "I know that you want for the three of us to become a family again. However, that's just not happening."

He shook his head. "No, no. I get it. I shouldn't have assumed that you would want to stay with me after all this years. I just wanted to feel closer to my son, that's all."

A string of guilt struck your heart. But then you had to remember the numerous times you prayed for a moment, such as this one. A moment that never came. And it wasn't coming now.

"I'm sorry Gabriel. But this is the way it has to be."

"No, no. It's...fine." He scratched the back of his neck. "It's totally fine."

It wasn't fine. It took you everything not to cry.

"I guess I should head back home then, give the two of you a chance to settle in."

"Thank you Gab—"

"Oh, no, you're not." Your grandmother burst back into the room with Nemo pinned to her hip, a pacifier in his mouth.

"Vovó." You gritted your teeth. "Gabriel can leave if he wants to."

"Not with all those people still out there. If he does, they'll clamp down my yard, and I just planted new flowers."

It was settled, Gabriel was staying for dinner. Your grandmother cooked many of the dishes from your childhood, bringing back good memories. Most of your childhood memories were good. The bad ones were of your parents, who, along with your older brother, passed away in a car accident when you were just a young girl. That's actually how you got closer to Gabriel and his family. He was your brothers best friend, the two of them always up to no good. They'd spend most of their time surfing by the break of rocks, dreaming about going pro someday. At least one of them made it.

"Do you need help?"

You stood in the kitchen, interrupted by Gabriel, who stumbled upon you doing the dishes. Having him for dinner wasn't as bad as you had thought. You just had to ignore the fire that lit up inside of you every time he caught your eye from across the table. Or when his foot accidentally nudged yours underneath it.

"No, but thank you for asking."

"Alright then. Most of the people have left your grandmother's yard now, so I think I'm gonna make my way home."

You turned off the water, your back still turned to Gabriel who stood watching you from the doorway. "I guess I'll see you later then?" You said, swollowing the lump forming in the base of your throat.

"Yes. I'll probably come by the day after tomorrow. I have some work to do with my team until then."

"Your team?" You turned your head, watching him from the corner of your eye.

"Yeah. It's really just me and Rico. Rico, who you might remember? He was friends with Paulo and I back in high school."

"Oh." A weight pressed down on your chest at the mentioning of your brother.

"Yeah, he's actually my fitness coach now. He's gonna help me set up a program to prepare me for the next surfing tour."

"Of course." You nodded, dunking your hands into the dirty dish water just to hide the trembling of them.

"Well....I guess I better tell Nemo goodnight before I leave."

"Yes. Do that."

You stood in silence for a moment, hesitating to turn the water back on. A shadow then appeared behind you, isolating your frame. Gabriel's tattooed arms wrapped around your body, sliding down into the sink, into the dirty dish water.

"Do they still do that." He whispered, his voice deep in your ear.

"Y...yes." You nodded, the heat from his body not making the trembling any better.

"Are you still on medication?"

"No. I stopped taking them when I was pregnant. I guess I never found a reason to take them again."

"This should be a reason." Gabriel raised your hands up and out from the water, revealing your hands. To your surprise they had stopped trembling. But only because Gabriel was squeezing them tightly, stabilizing the panic within you.

His voice was calm in your ear. "There's nothing to be ashamed about. It's normal to take medication for these sorts of things."

"It really isn't." You chuckled. "Not when your family has been dead for years."

Soft lips were pressed into your hair, followed by a whisper, "You're family is not dead. We're right here with you."

You made the mistake of turning around and facing him, his arms caging you between him and the kitchen sink. His lips looked so kissable, Gabriel's eyes convincing you to do just that. Kiss him. However, he only leaned in to knock his forhead against yours. "I'll be back the day after tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

He kissed your temple and you let him. "Good. I'll see you."

You watched him leave the kitchen and disappear down the hall. A quiet beat, followed by Nemo's laughter suddenly echoing throughout the house, below it and above it, as if he was being tossed in the air. The laughter eventually seized, followed by Gabriel, who passed the kitchen on his way towards the door. "Goodnight, Y/N."

It took everything for you to say it back. "Goodnight Gabriel."

He left the house as you approached the kitchen window, watching him make his way down the driveway back to his car. Some resilient kid from the neighborhood popped out of nowhere with a pen and paper. And like you knew he would, Gabriel took his time to sign his autograph on that piece of paper, leaving the young boy beaming from ear to ear.

"He's a good man, that I'll admit."

"Jesus, vovó. You scared me."

She had appeared by your side like a cat in the night. Like you, her gaze was fixiated out of the window, regarding Gabriel as he finally hopped into his car.

"Just don't let him break your heart again." She said, a stern look on her face. "Never again."

Part 1

#fanfiction #gabriel medina x reader #gabriel medina #gabriel medina imagine #brazil #surfing

38 notes · View notes

grampstaxidermy87 · 2 years

Text

Pretty Boy

Part 1 | Part 2

Poly!Lost Boys x Male!Reader

Smut Warning: Polyamory, dumbification ,Blood kink, Double penetration, blow jobs, hand jobs, body worship, biting, fingering, choking, public sex, voyeurism.

Warning: blood consumption, turning, murder, Gore, Alcohol, drug use, corruption, Reader is too horny to have morals.

summary: After a night of mind-numbing passion, it is time to join the club. But don't worry baby, the boys are there to make the transition as pleasurable as possible.

An: So sorry lovelies, wanted this out a while ago but as I was editing I just hated the way the plot was going so I rewrote most of it. I had gotten some feedback on the first one that said I lost the plot and it just really got me rethinking myself a lot. I'm still iffy on this but it is better than before, anyways on to the delicious smut I know you're all here for! Enjoy <3

My eyes snapped open as I shot up, gasping for air and gripping the T-shirt that felt looser than the one I remembered wearing.

Looking down I saw a dark grey Metallica T-shirt with a few holes and unknown red stains across the front, furrowing my brows I realized I wasn’t in my bedroom like I should have been. Shifting to stand I winced when my sore muscles cramped and screamed at me for the action, Memories of the night before came crashing down as my stomach twisted with hunger.

Confusion fogged my mind, why did I let myself give in like that? Sure, they were all insanely attractive and it felt good...like really good actually, I shouldn't have crossed the line. I mean they were Michael's friends-

Shit Michael!

I quickly slipped out of the mountain of blankets and pillows they had put me in, fighting against the soreness and dizziness that shot through me as I wobbled around in search of my clothes.

He was going to kill me, all he wanted was for me to drive him to his friend's place and I end up ditching him to fuck them. What kind of friend does that?!

In my frantic search I didn't notice the looming figure watching from the shadows in amusement, A single burning light illuminated their face as a puff of smoke blew out into view.

"Going somewhere (Y/n)?"

Jumping with a startled yelp I dropped my shoes with a loud thud, whipping around I felt a shiver roll down my spine at how intimidatingly attractive he looked "David! I-I was just..." He stepped out of the shadows, fully dressed and showing no signs of the intense sex we had last night.

I knew for a fact that I had left quite a few marks on his skin, but now he looked untouched and…perfect.

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as I gawked at him, making a show of taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke while keeping our eyes locked together. Why did such a simple thing affect me so much? The cocky bastard looked satisfied when he got the reaction he had wanted in the form of me shifting on my feet with a flustered expression.

Shaking away my lustful thoughts I recollected my clothes and headed towards the nest mattress. “Look, last night was amazing but I really have to go. I need to find Michael."

David's cocky grin fell into a frown of distaste at the mention of my best friend, a dangerous aura radiated off of him as I tossed the pile onto the bed before moving to remove the t-shirt.

Footsteps approached me and stopped as David’s chest pressed to my back, his eyes practically glowing as he dug his gloved fingers into my hip. "Forget about Michael, did you forget what I told you yesterday?" A shiver rolled up my spine at his words, eyes full of serious emotion as he glanced down at my bare neck, he leaned down to start peppering my skin with kisses.

"Look...I barely know you guys; I shouldn't have done any of...that." My words lulled when he slowly lowered his gloved hands lower and lower down my stomach, I hated to admit how much I craved him, but I needed to stay strong. I couldn't give in again no matter how much I wanted to.

"Didn't it feel good for you? It sure did for us, you're quite the lover." He could feel how I melted at the compliment, his other hand moving to my jaw as he turned my face towards him. Licking his lips as our faces were mere inches away from one another.

"Come on baby boy, you know we're meant to be together. You feel it too don't you, that pulling sensation that ties us all." I gripped onto his shoulders when he turned me around, "Just give in and I promise to fuck you senseless whenever you want." My eyes grew heavy when a wave of lust washed over me, it was too hard to fight against my urges when he spoke such pretty words.

"I-I can't..." He smiled so tenderly stroking my cheek with a surprising amount of care, "Oh but you can (Y/n), I know you can. Don't you want to be loved?" It was as if his voice was seeping into the deepest crevices of my mind, all I could think of was him and the boys.

It made me wonder, why was I fighting this so much? There were four handsome, funny, and adoring boys who wanted me...all of me. And yet still wanted to see Michael.

Michael who has always treated me like I was nothing more than a friend.

Michael who was so eager to toss me aside when new, more interesting people came into his life.

Michael who had the audacity to look jealous when I was given the attention for a change.

It was time to do something for myself for once in my life, it was time to be happy.

All I had to do was give in.

"I don't want to be alone anymore."

David smiled, for he had finally won. “It's okay kitten, just let me take care of you."

I let out a whimper as he crashed our lips together in a surprisingly hungry kiss, turning to face him I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt him chuckle into my mouth. Moving his hands down my body until they made their home at my ass, skilled as they slipped under the bottom of the shirt and groped the meaty flesh and added tongue to the kiss.

"Damn David, I told you he'd look so cute in Paul’s shirt." I tried to pull away when I heard Marko's flirty voice, but David refused to release me now that he had me. Moans were devoured by the stronger man as he pulled me into his chest allowing me to feel the large, clothed bulge that pressed against my own.

Another body wrapped around me from behind, placing open mouthed kisses to my neck mixed with a nibble here and there. While skilled hands easily made quick work of tearing the shirt to shreds and tossing the torn fabric somewhere out of sight and out of mind.

"There we go handsome, nothing to hide your delicious body from us." Marko hummed nipping at my earlobe and growing a feral grin when I visibly shivered at the sensation.

David pulled away and chuckled as I followed him for more, "Easy kitten, we have eternity to fuck your brains out. But it's almost dinner time, so we'll be continuing this later." Marko growled, not wanting to stop as he moved his hand around to grab hold of my shaft making me gasp out with pleasure.

David gave him a look daring the shorter man to argue, but unlike I who shivered at his intensity Marko merely smirked.

"Come on David, just look at him. Let him orgasm at least once." The leader glared harder at him, but Marko didn't seem deterred as he began pumping my weeping cock.

David took my chin and tilted my head up to watch the way I panted and moaned, “We have plans Marko, you know that.”. He had to admit I did look delicious as my eyes watered and moans fell from my lips like a beautiful Symphany that he could listen to for hours.

So while this was pushing back the important plans for the night, he decided just one orgasm wouldn't hurt.

"Fine." That was all Marko needed to hear as I was suddenly tossed on the bed with the sporadic cherub climbing between my legs without a second's hesitation. He licked his lips pulling my thighs over his shoulders and looking up at me as he grabbed my cock again.

"Don't worry baby, I'm going to return the favor for last night. Fuck my throat as hard as you want." With that said he kissed the tip, licking away the precum that leaked from it, before taking all of me into his mouth.

He didn't stop until I hit the back of his throat with his nose pressed to my pubes, He hummed at my delicious taste making me whimper and squeeze his head with my thighs.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see David approaching with the same chalice from last night, I assumed he had taken a sip seeing since he had a bit of the crimson liquid on his bottom lip.

“See pretty boy, you’ll get to feel this every night if you want to. It will only feel better after tonight though…trust me.” David looked over us as he knelt on the bed beside Marko, watching my blissed-out expressions as Marko mercilessly bobbed his head at a punishing pace.

“I-I’m going to cum-” A bastardly smirk tugged at his handsome face, he leaned down to run his leather fingers down my stomach, keeping eye contact as he moved up onto the back of Marko’s head and pushed down.

Marko choked on my cock but didn’t seem bothered as he instead used his tongue to lick at my balls, tears filled in my eyes, ”Not yet kitten, thirsty?” His other hand led the chalice to me and I struggled on weak arms to push myself up to it.

Now that I thought about it, I was oddly thirsty. But for some reason I was craving whatever was in this cup.

It smelled insanely good, so much so that I found my stomach grumbling with hunger as it was pressed to my lips, ”Drink baby boy, then I’ll allow Marko to make you cum.”

Marko looked up with those enchanting eyes of his, his hands stroking my thighs and waiting for David’s cue.

Licking my dry lips, I allowed him to tilt the cup and begin pouring the liquid into my mouth. I tried my best to drink every drop, but some still ended up dripping down my chin. It was only when David was satisfied that he pulled the cup away, eyeing the red staining my chin with a hunger that shot a wave of heat between my legs and into Marko’s mouth.

Tossing the cup away he didn’t give me any time to be startled by the loud clang as he released Marko and grabbed my hair pulling my head back as he dove in and began licking at my skin.

The cherub chuckled and returned to his brutal pace from before, his nails dug painfully into my thighs but whatever that drink was made me feel too high to care.

Euphoria was nothing compared to this dizzying feeling that made me feel so tingly. What was happening to me…and why did I love it?

"Guyyyysss I'm starvi- Whoa what did we miss?" Paul jumped into the doorway and froze as he saw my sweaty and panting body trapped below his two friends.

Dwayne appeared not even a second later peering over twisted sisters' shoulder, a smirk present on his lips as his dark eyes looked straight into my soul.

“Looks like their having fun without us.” Paul pouted to accentuate Dwayne’s words, “Aw but I want to fuck him too!” He whined but yelped when the brunette slapped the back of his head, ”You had your turn dipshit.”

They stopped arguing when I let out a load groan, bucking my hips up and feeling my tip abuse the back of Marko's throat.

"Shit..." Dwayne cursed covering his mouth as his pants grew tight, the smell of my lust filled the roam and his senses making him feel drunk.

“Fuck you taste so good kitten, so perfect for us.” David's hand squeezed my throat as he moved to my ear.

"Cum for us (Y/n)." He purred before capturing my lips in a passionate kiss.

Finally getting permission I came down Marko’s throat, whimpering into David's mouth. Marko happily swallowed every last drop and licked my shaft clean as he pulled off.

“You’re right David, he is absolutely delicious.” Marko chuckled sitting up and moving my legs to settle around his waist as I came down from my high.

David hummed as he too pulled away, and I felt like prey with the way they both stared down at me with predator like gazes.

As they grew louder I glanced up at David who turned to me with clear annoyance, "Are they always like this?” The leader chuckled and nodded as he moved his hand to my cheek, eyes soft while his thumb rubbed beneath my eye to wipe away the tears.

“You’ll get used to it after a while, they have their moments when they can be tolerable. Except for Paul, he’s always on cloud 9.” He brightened when my laughter spilled out enough to stop the boys arguing that had turned to roughhousing, each one watching in awe as I tried to compose myself.

“He really is pretty when he smiles.” Marko muttered causing the other two to hum their agreements.

“You boys are so cute!” I wiped away my tears and sat up, not even minding that I was still completely nude. I felt nothing but comfortable around these boys that I didn’t even know until yesterday, they made it so easy to exist…to just simply live in the moment without a care in the world.

I felt protected, safe, loved. Those were things I never thought I’d be able to.

“Now then Pretty boy, hungry?” David’s voice was followed by my stomach grumbling as my throat burned, grabbing at my neck I swallowed dryly. “I could eat, what were you thinking?” David shared a look with the others before standing up, “Don’t you worry about a thing kitten, we have the perfect meal in mind.”

Reaching out a hand to me I stared at it for a moment as slight unease swirled around my chest, there was something almost…animalistic in their eyes.

A hidden danger that should have sent me running, but instead I felt excitement bubbling as I took his hand and allowed him to pull me up.

As I regained my balance on shaky legs a jacket was draped over my shoulders making me jump, cold blood red leather rubbed against my warm skin as dark hair fell into view beside my head.

Dwayne smiled with content as he looked over the way the leather jacket fit on me, it was the only thing covering my delicious body.

But for the boys this visibly showed that I was part of the group, each part of it tied in with one of them.

The patches curtesy of Marko, the peacock on the back was painted by Dwayne, and the chain along the side added by Paul to match his.

David however held much pride when I wore one of the medals he had worn on his own coat since the 40’s.

I was a lost boy, now all I had to do was complete the transformation.

————

The salty sea air batted against my face as we drove down the foliage covered pathways towards the beach, The boys yelling and hollering into the quiet forest.

It was honestly amazing to see them in their element like this, letting loose and running on pure adrenaline. Dwayne glanced back at me as I hung onto his back, pressed tight against him as I wrapped my arms around his waist in content.

He didn’t bother hiding the pleased smile on his handsome face when he saw me rub my cheek into his shoulder blade and look up at him, “You doing okay back there sugar?” Smiling at the nickname I nodded and burrowed deeper into his leather jacket, letting my hands graze his bare stomach before sliding up to his chest. All while watching his reaction with great satisfaction.

He gripped the handlebars tighter as warmth spread in his chest, he wanted nothing more than to hold me tight, purring dirty words in my ear as I squirmed with pleasure against him.

Those thoughts almost won too but one glare from David put out the urge…for now.

Curiosity swelled in my mind when we pulled to a stop next to a giant tree on the beach, I could hear the sounds of music and chatter as Paul hopped over and helped me off the bike before swinging an arm around my shoulders.

“Come on man, the funs about to begin!” Melting into his side I wrapped my arm around his waist and allowed him to pull me along leaving the three boys behind.

“Are we sure he’s ready?” Marko inquired suddenly looking nervous as they all watched Paul hang off a tree limb and laugh as I tried to climb the tree after him, key word is ‘Try’.

“Shouldn’t we tell him?” Dwayne asked glancing over to see David ponder their concerned words, “He belongs to us, his soul is connected to ours. Even if he is scared, he’ll come around in the end.” David simply stated before walking over to the tree with a smirk.

Dwayne and Marko shared a look, knowing that while they trusted David’s judgment, they were all terrified of the prospect of losing me. I did belong to them, just as they belonged to me…so they hoped that would be enough reason for me to stick around for good.

Paul nudged my arm as we watched a group of Surf Nazis drunkenly dancing and screaming the song ‘Rebel Yell’ horribly, despite the confusion that followed I felt my stomach grumble again as we watched them push and shove at each other.

Drool pooled in my mouth when one who had been shoved too hard fell on a fallen log they had been using as a bench and scraped his hand, too high to notice as he bounced up and rejoined his friends.

Paul’s head bumped against mine, one arm wrapped around my waist as the other held the tree limb above us.

“Pick one, baby.” Paul whispered in my ear while peppering kisses to my cheek and jaw.

Pick one? Why would I need to pick one, and why did I feel so hungry? Sweat was dripping from my face as my lunges felt heavier with every breathe I took.

“W-Wha...” Another hand captured my chin and turned me to look into the comforting gaze of my handsome brunette giant. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone as he leaned in close to capture my lips in a soft kiss, it only lasted a few seconds before he pulled away.

“Breathe sugar, I know you’re confused but you’re safe with us. We’re not going anywhere.” It was so easy to melt into Paul’s arms as Dwayne spoke.

Marko watched from above as I finally gave in and let my worries wash away, “There we go, our good boy.” He praised as Paul kissed my head and nuzzled into my hair.

David watched with a soft smile, he could feel how anxious his boys were and while he wouldn’t admit it aloud…he was scared too. None of them could even think about a life without their pretty boy now, far too addicted to ever let me go. Vampires were selfish and territorial creatures, and David was the worst of them all.

He would kill anyone who tried to take me away…even if it meant going against that bastard's sick dreams of a family. No one, and he meant No One, was going to get in the way of our happiness.

So with that in mind he decided to start the show, ”Boys.” All eyes fell on him with a buzz of excitement filling the air.

“It’s time.” Dwayne placed a soft kiss to my lips before I was released, they each stared off at the dancing drunks on the beach with barely contained eagerness.

I went to sit up but was pushed back against the trunk of the tree as David moved down to cage me against it, taking my chin and forcing me to look into his striking blue eyes.

“It’s time to join the club Kitten, see us for all that we are...” He stated turning my chin right as he snapped his fingers. Within a second the three boys had disappeared in a flash and the sound of screams filled the air.

My eyes grew wide at the bloodbath I bared witness to, the same boys that had been whispering comforting words to me, who had kissed me so tenderly, and fucked me into oblivion…were ripping human beings apart limb from limb.

David turned to watch my reaction as I felt the hunger grow, he smiled when he saw my eyes turn yellow as my gums and face started to ache. “Don’t they look delicious, kitten?” He trailed his leather finger up my chin and brushed my bottom lip, moving down to whisper into my ear.

“Aren’t you wondering why their blood smells so appetizing? Why the drinks we’ve given you taste so good?” He watched as realization flashed over my hunger hazed eyes. Not daring to look away from the horrifyingly attractive blood covered men who laughed as they tore into their meals.

“It’s because you’re one of us…or at least halfway there. All you need to do is consume human blood and you’ll be a creature of the night like us.” He purred into my ear and glanced at the boys, Marko was looking up at us while holding a barely conscious man with paling skin and a bloody throat, the poor thing hung limp in his arms.

It was the same man who had skinned his palm.

“Sleep all day, Party all night. You’ll never die, kitten. All you have to do is feed.” All eyes were on me now, the unknown beast inside threatening to come out if I didn’t give in. To devour the delicious smelling nectar that dripped from the fragile neck of a human being.

He was a human being! Why was I even hesitating? I should be running, fighting back, something other than sitting here while these bloodthirsty creatures' pet and paw at me. All while I looked at a fellow human like I was a starved man sat Infront of a full course meal!

But…But I wasn’t human anymore, was I?

Glancing down at my nails that looked sharper than before I knew I was probably far too gone already.

How did I even get here? One second I was talking with Michael in the safety of my home and the next I’m in the middle of nowhere surrounded by blood and guts and yellow eyed monsters.

They turned me into one of them…and the worst thing was I didn’t hate them for it, no... instead of hatred I felt...want.

Heavy lustful want.

David was caught by pleasant surprise when I suddenly grabbed his collar and smashed our lips together in a heated kiss, he didn’t hesitate to kiss back however. Meeting my passion with his own fire, digging his fingers into my hair to bring me closer.

When pulling away my heart skipped a beat at the shift in his face, much like a feline in the angular and sharp features. Yellow eyes filled with lust stared into my own as sharp nails dig into my hips, threatening to puncture the flesh.

“He's awakened the beast now!” Paul teased Elbowing Marko who shot him a glare before approaching, still holding the limp man who’s breathing had significantly slowed.

“Come on baby, just a taste.” I gasped when David grabbed me and leapt down, landing Infront of the curly haired beauty and setting me down. He stayed close though, hovering over my shoulder with his chest pressed against my shaking form.

It was too late to go back…but with how they were looking at me, full of love and hope, did I really want to?

Did I want to go back to a world where I had to hide who I was, my parents were never around, and when they were it was only because they needed something. But now I had four boys who wanted me, all of me. They were kind and funny, not to mention attractive and strong.

I had been one of them the second I stepped foot out of my truck.

Marko grinned when he saw that I had made my decision, starting to chant my name as the others joined.

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)!”

Marko grabbed the man’s hair and yanked his head back, baring the bloody throat to me and making me hiss with painful hunger.

Baring my teeth I lunged and sunk my teeth deep into my foods neck, destroying the last bit of humanity I had left.

The boys cheered as I sucked down the delicious liquid that filled my mouth and dripped down my chin to stain my shirt, a wave of euphoria flushed through my system. Tears formed in my eyes as I slowly pulled away, letting the corpse fall to the ground as I stared at my bloody hands.

Gentle hands began caressing me, but I was so dizzy that I couldn’t even tell who they belonged to.

“That’s it baby bat, our good boy.”

“He looks so pretty all covered in blood.”

“I knew you could do it babe!”

“Welcome to the club kitten.”

Their voices echoed in my mind startling me as I saw that none of their mouths were moving, instead they were pulled into proud smiles as Dwayne whispered in my ear.

“You’re one of us now sugar, we're bonded.” He nuzzled into my neck and began licking away the sticky blood that coated my skin.

It was strange how much their affection affected me now, far more intensely than before. Tingling shivers rolled over my body as I held onto his strong arms, leaning my head to the side so he had more room.

He smirked against me, opening his mouth to place loving bites against my flesh. Skilled hands raked up my stomach, pulling my jacket off before I heard a loud rip.

Looks like I’ll need a new shirt.

“Just look at you baby boy, all covered in blood and looking so damn delicious.” Paul purred as he knelt Infront of me, not stopping for even a second He licked a stripe up my blood covered chest. Eyes rolled back at the mix of taste, ”Oh fucking hell, Marko you have to get a taste!”

Paul yelped when the cherub shoved him aside to kneel Infront of me, Cupping my face he smeared the blood over my lips as he licked his. “Oh baby, I’m so proud of you. We all knew you could do it, because you’re our good boy aren’t you?”

His praise brought a drowsiness to my brain that left me wanting more. Whimpering and nodding eagerly my one hand tightened on Dwayne’s arm while the other reached out for Marko.

“P-Please…” What I was begging for, I had no clue. All I did know was that I needed them in every way possible or else I felt that my body would burst into flames.

“Ah Ah, use your words kitten, what do you want us to do?” David’s hand came from beside me as he tenderly ran his sharp nails over my scalp and watched me shiver with glowing yellow eyes. Blood caked his chin as well meaning he had fed while I was drowning in this strange ecstasy.

“I…I want you all to touch me, to fuck me...show me that I’m yours!” Just like that I had four sets of hands groping at me and making me moan in pleasure.

“Well sugar, who are we to deny such a tempting request.” Dwayne growled in my ear as I squirmed in his embrace just as he had wanted back at the bikes.

Someone was unbuckling my belt and tugging down my pants and boxers in one go, while two mouths were licking up all of the blood from my body.

“Dwayne.” David’s voice echoed in the brunette's mind, "Distract him.” Feral grins formed at their leaders' words, he watched as David vanished into the trees.

"Come on baby? You want Dwayne to stretch your tight little hole?" Paul asked cupping my erection and making me buck into his hand.

“Yes! Oh god, please fuck me!” I pleaded looking at the four glowing eyes with tears falling down my cheeks.

“Aw listen to him beg Dwayne, I think you should give him what he wants~” Marko teased while Dwayne tapped two fingers on my lips waiting for me to part them before slipping them into my warm mouth.

I hummed at the taste of blood on his fingers as they pressed down on my tongue, Dwayne’s fingers left my mouth and lowered down to my ass, ghosting over my puckering hole as I shivered with anticipation.

"Ready baby bat?” He asked waiting for any signs of hesitation, smiling when he found only pure need.

"Please...I need to feel you inside me...”

"Keep begging baby, it’s so hot!” Paul interrupted my thoughts, and I looked over to see he was currently rutting against Marko, arms tightly wrapped around the smaller blonde's waist as their bodies molded together.

Heat spread up my body as I watched them, feeling my dick twitch while they continued to move in sync.

A gasp ripped from my throat when Dwayne used the distraction to push his fingers inside easily, my grip righted on his arm as they slid in and out stretching the muscle that still ached from its abuse yesterday.

But now every spark of pleasure ignited a burning need inside of me, impatience came along with it as I moved my hand back and cupped his hardened erection. Rubbing it I heard him let out a hiss and tighten his grip.

I drowned in his pheromones as his entire being flooded my senses, and from the way his eyes fluttered shut while he took a deep breath, I could tell he loved it just as much as I did.

When his eyes opened again they were back to their normal darkness, his pace suddenly sped up to match mine and tore a load moan from my throat.

“Fu-huck Dwayne!” I grunted nearly collapsing when he spread his fingers further stretching me to his content, whimpers soon spilled from my lips when my hips moved back to meet his fingers in search of more stimulation only for strong hand to grab my hips stopping my attempts.

“Patience baby boy, you’ll be filled up in a second.” Marko said before glancing to the other vampire with that Cheshire grin of his.

“Is he ready?” Paul asked peering over Marko’s shoulder panting as he grinds up against Marko.

Dwayne hummed in response, pulling his fingers out before moving out of my reach to unbuckle his pants.

Marko chuckled as I looked at him eagerly, shuffling forward a bit to press himself against my front. "See what you do to me baby boy, I can’t wait to feel your tight ass around me.” I bit my lip at the feeling of his hard Dick pressed against mine, his hands moved to wrap around us both.

Dwayne grabbed my chin and turned me to face him, forcing eye contact as I felt him slide between my ass cheeks. Slowly pushing after lining up, we both grunted when his tip started to slip past the ring of muscle.

Marko smirked with content watching my pleasure-drunk expressions, "Almost there sugar, once you take all of Dwayne I'll slip inside too, you’ll be stuffed to the brim with our cocks. And you’re going to love every second of it aren’t you?”

It felt too good to even think, the more he slipped inside the dumber I became until all I could do was nod with drool pooling in my mouth.

“Course you will, such a good boy.”

‘Fuck keep calling me that’ I wanted to say but all that came out was a whimper.

“You like it when we praise you Huh pretty boy? Like a dog waiting for their treat.” Paul snickered but they all knew it was true.

“Well get ready puppy because here it is!” Dwayne growled, thrusting all the way in until he bottomed out.

“Holy shit-He still feels so warm!" He leaned back and sat with me settled on his lap, using his strong grip to begin bouncing me on top of him.

The new position presented me fully to the two awaiting men, “Get in here boys, you gotta feel this.” His hips thrust up into me mercilessly making me moan in pleasure, I reached back and grabbed a fist full of his hair and his laughter rumbled against my back as he leaned his head down and peppered kisses to my shoulder.

Marko could feel his composure cracking, he wanted to hold back so that he didn’t scare me, but he couldn’t only last long. So the very second that I looked at him, arms stretching out with a needy look on my face, was the exact moment his restraint shattered.

He lunged forward knocking our mouths together as he ripped off his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down to press his tip to my stretched-out entrance.

He waited until I gasped as he bit my bottom lip to push in, grunting at the tightness and pressing our foreheads together.

“You’re right Dwayne, incredible...” Marko huffed as he pulled away and rolled his hips, the two groaned at the feelings while I was too distracted by the feeling of being pressed between them as they thrusted in tandem.

“Move.” I mumbled between the moans and gasps of breath. “What was that baby? Speak up.” Paul's head appeared beside me as he cupped my chin and turned my face towards him.

Leaning in he brushed our lips together and smirked as I tried to pull him closer.

“Paul kiss me!” The blonde didn’t need to be asked twice, crashing our lips together and battling my tongue for dominance.

Marko and Dwayne both grinned at the view, sharing a look that spelled trouble they began a brutal pace. Marko would thrust mercilessly and Dwayne would follow even harder. Pounding into me and moaning into my ears, and holy fuck was it hot.

Pulling away from Paul I moaned out with bliss as he moved down and latched onto my shoulder, teeth sinking into my supple skin and biting down to the point that if I were still human it would have torn out a chunk of muscle. “Yes! right there!” I yelled and clenched around them, earning three animalistic growls in return.

Their thrusts were unrelenting when Marko and Dwayne both reached the perfect spot, skilled in the way they easily found it over and over again.

At this rate I wasn’t going to last long, I could already feel the knot in the pit of my stomach tightening and threatening to release.

“Not yet sugar, just hold on.” Dwayne grunted licking a stripe up the back of my neck, he was drowning in pleasure as his hips slapped against my asscheeks.

“What about me baby?” Paul pouted, feeling left out up until my hand wrapped around his shaft. He let out a moan as I lazily jerked him off and leaving him a whimpering mess for me, begging me to go even the slightest bit faster.

My chest heaved as I smiled with satisfaction, he held onto me with tears building in his eyes when I squeezed. God I could cum just by looking at each of their handsome, pleasure ridden faces. Holding back like this seemed impossible when my boys kept fucking me without slowing down their rapid pace.

“I can’t hold it any longer! Please let me cum!” Marko shivered as I whimpered into his ear, but not without nibbling on his lobe. He was grinning like an idiot as he looked up at Dwayne and Paul’s matching smile, "Think we should let him, he was so good for us after all.”

Dwayne grabbed my chin, tenderly looking my blissed-out expression. “Since he begged so nicely, we’ll come together.”

It didn't take much longer for my body to finally give up in trying to hold back, my head fell back against Dwayne's shoulder as my cum shot up and covered Marko’s chest right as Paul came in my hand, holding onto me as he grunted.

Not even a second later I felt full as the two boys own loads were stuffed deep inside of me,their whimpers filling my ears as they came down from their highs.

“Definitely worth the wait.”

———

“He’s amazing isn’t he Michael?”

Michael fell back onto his ass as David’s voice suddenly came out from bee hind him, looking up at the looming figure standing over him.

David grinned and wiggles his fingers tauntingly,”Hello Michael, enjoying the show?”

Michael quickly shuffled away and stood up,brushing off some of the dirt on him as he glared at the vampire.

“What have you done to him! He didn’t want this!”

David merely rose a brow,looking him in the eye as my moans and screams for more echoed in the air.

“He’s just confused by lust,he doesn’t know what he wants!” Michael hissed,looking red in the face.

To David, Michael looked insanely jealous, if this were a cartoon steam would be coming out of his ears with a train whistle blowing.

“Oh yea, you’re absolutely right. Those are the sounds of someone who doesn’t want us to fuck him sensless.” David snickered pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up, taking a drag he stepped closer and blew the smoke right in Michaels face.

As Michael coughed and waved away the smoke David smirked, “Poor little Michael is jealous, He never got to fuck pretty boys tight ass so now he’s throwing a fit.”

His laughter only made Michaels anger worse,but David’s grin died down to a deadly glare, stepping forward until he was a breathes distance. “How many times do I have to tell you Michael, (Y/n) is ours. And we don’t share with others.”

Michael clenched his jaw because he knew that despite being a half he had no chance of beating someone like David. “He’s not an object, he’ll leave once he realizes that you’re all nothing but mons-“ he gagged before he could finish his sentence,David’s clawed hand wrapped tightly around his throat.

“Oh Michael, you just don’t know when to shut your fucking mouth.” David hissed with glowing eyes of barely contained fury,”Besides nothing you say is going to change the fact that you’re forgettable, he chose us over a pathetic waste of space like you.”

Tears built in Michaels eyes, flinching when the grasp on his neck grew tighter. “Perhaps I should just kill you now and rid myself of any further headaches.” His jaw opened baring his fangs aiming to tear out Michaels throat.

‘He’s asking for you.’ Dwayne’s voice echoed in the vampires skulls making David’s glare melt into a cocky smirk.

“Enjoy the rest of the show Michael, because the next time I see you…” he leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I’ll take great pleasure in draining every ounce of your blood and bathing him in it while he screams my name.”

Releasing his throat David didn’t waste a single glance towards the pathetic half again as he stalked off back to the others leaving Michael alone as he rubbed at his throat.

Silently plotting.

———

Paul was laid out on my lap as I leaned back against Marko, Dwayne was busy cleaning up the mess of torn limps and bodies missing throats.

“So…I’m a vampire now.” They shared a nervous look, unsure on how to read my stoic expression.

“We’re sorry sugar, we should have told you.” Dwayne said softly as he tossed an arm into the fire.

“Why didn’t you?” I asked, hissing lowly as I ran my hands through paul's hair.

Paul melted into my hand, soaking up the tender affection that I was giving him. He glanced up at me with an embarrassed expression, “We were worried you’d be scared of us.” I couldn't help but soften at how cute he looked, glancing at the other two I realized they had all been worried.

Now with a clearer mind I thought back on it, the clues were all right in front of me. The looks, the possessiveness, the true meaning being David’s words earlier.

They wanted me from the beginning, and once they got a taste they were hooked. I suppose the same could be said for me, even if they had let me go when I first woke up there was no way I’d be able to stay away from them.

“I have never been put first before, never treated with such love and care. You four have made me feel more important in the last two nights than my own parents have my entire life, and I owe you my everything for that.”

They shared a look of surprise,they hadn’t expected such a heartfelt response.

“Well damn sugar, you know how to make big bad vampires like us tear up.” I chuckled at Dwayne’s mumbled words as he came over and placed a kiss atop my head, smiling as I looked up at him with they same amount of love that they had looking at me.

"Speaking of big bad Vampires, We're missing one. Where's David?" Dwayne looked off towards the woods he had watched his leader dissapear into before looking back to me,"He's coming."

Nodding in understanding I started to get up, Paul rolled off to allow me room as I stood and brushed the sand off of me. Marko Handed me my boxers and pants while Paul searched for my jacket that had been tossed somewhere.

Once dressed I looked down at my chest to see the small patches of blood that was now dried to my skin, "This is going to take a bit to get used to..." They chuckled as I tried to wipe away the flakes.

"We'll be here to help you every step of the way kitten, you're stuck with us." Two arms wrapped around my waist from behind as I was pulled back into a sturdy chest, David's voice was a soft purr in my ear as he rubbed his nose into my cheek.

"Oh boy, lucky me." I teased earning a nip at my neck that made me laugh. "Well now that I'm one of you...I was promised an eternity of partying." David grinned proudly as he pulled away but kept an arm around me as he looked to the others.

"You heard him boys, let's get cleaned up and show our pretty boy a good time." They all cheered while Paul made a lewd comment about showing me a really good time. I'd be taking him up on that later.

They began heading back to the bikes leaving me to look over the burning remains in the firepit, I should feel guilty...like I was a monster.

But for some reason all I felt was the love my boys had for me, that overwhelming need to be around them overpowered any human morals I should have.

The old (Y/n) was dead, now all that was left was their Pretty boy.

No one was going to change that.

#the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x male!reader #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys #paul tlb #tlb 1987 #marko tlb #tlb dwayne #david tlb #poly!lost boys #poly!lost boys x reader

669 notes · View notes

serenefreakgeekao3 · 1 year

Text

Chocolate and Pining

Jim Halpert x GN!Reader

PART ONE

[TABLE OF CONTENTS]

Check Table of Contents for entire fic summary and Key!

Summary: The cameras arrive and begin their rotation through the office. What will their shiny lens and intrusive questions uncover?

Warnings: canon-compliant cheating (if you count Pam flirting while engaged)

Author's Note: First post of the new rewrite, and Im kinda glad I only post two chapters of this previously because I went through and changed the entire thing from third person pov to first, to match along with the rest of the xReaders i’ve been writing.

[ ֎” ]

"Alright," You begin, your legs crossed while you tap one hand on your thigh. "What do I even say?" You huff a little laugh, shaking your head. You sat on an uncomfortable grey plastic chair, blinds slightly drawn behind you to block the view of the rest of the office working. You turn around and glance back, looking through the small opening available and noting three different cameras roaming the office and zooming in on people.

"What do we do here?" You repeat the question you're given, turning back toward your own interview camera. "Well, this is Dunder Mifflin, Scranton branch. We're a paper-pushing company." You stop for a moment before the producer behind the camera does a sort of wave as if urging you on. "Uh- well, I'm the receptionist here. I took the job almost a year ago. I transfer calls to the department they need to go to, write notes during our meetings- I'm basically Michael's secretary." You awkwardly laugh, glancing at the wall of the conference room shared with Michael's office as if he could hear through it. You wouldn’t doubt it if someone told you he stood there with his ear pressed to the wall.

"What's the most interesting thing about this job?" You furrow your brows in concern, uncrossing your legs and sitting forward. "Look, I don't know what you guys were expecting when you came here with a whole film crew, but we're a paper company. There's literally nothing interesting about working here."

[ ֎” ]

"What's interesting about working here?" Oscar asks, glancing through the blinds before leaning closer to the camera, waving his hand as he speaks quieter, "Now I'm not one to gossip, but the big thing going around is the office romance right now. And I'm not talking about Kelly and Ryan getting back together for the fifth time." He laughs shortly at his own joke before continuing. "See, Pam is engaged to Roy, he works here in the shipping warehouse downstairs. They've been together for years and they finally have a wedding date set for about a month or so from now.

"However, Jim has the biggest crush on her, everyone can tell. Before Y/N got here, Pam was the receptionist and Jim was always jumping up and going over to her to flirt constantly. Now, some believe the flirting is still going on while their desks are right next to each other, but I think it's gotten tamped down a bit since Pam scheduled a date for the wedding.

"And then there's Y/N. They started here when Pam was finally transferred to sales, and the position opened. They actually became quite close to both Pam and Jim pretty quickly, which makes some sense considering Dwight and Michael basically attacked them their first day here." —

[ ֎” ]

"Attacked Y/N? Please," Dwight scoffed, shaking his head, "I was merely preparing the new employee. If you’re not ready for a surprise stab from a ninja on your first day on the job, then I really don’t think you’re ready for work at all.” Dwight huffs out a breath, crossing his arms. “Besides, Jim made me use the dull blade.” He looks away from the camera in a strop, shrugging his shoulders. “If he hadn’t taken my sharp one I wouldn’t have had to pull out the dull one. I had to put extra force behind the attack for it to do anything, so really it’s Jim’s fault for the bruises.

“Michael? He couldn’t hurt a fly.” Dwight scoffs, then scoffs again for emphasis. “The fact that he tripped and fell that day means nothing, he was merely catching himself from falling with the closest available thing to grab. Which happened to be Y/N’s body, which he then happened to pull down with him. An honest mistake, that.”

[ ֎” ]

— "Now," Oscar continued where he left off with a smirk, "You'd think Jim flirting with Pam, and her egging it on while engaged, should be drama enough for you. But, then you have to figure into the equation that Y/N also likes Jim. I have a pretty good view of the receptionist area when Y/N sits in a certain spot, and I can hear whenever they talk to each other... Sometimes.

"Now I don't know if Jim realized he's a little flirty," Oscar wiggles his fingers with this, "But certainly not as much with them as with Pam. But- man, it's almost painful how hopeful Y/N's voice gets when they talk with Jim. Almost, but mostly just entertaining. And of course, none of the three know about this. It's basically the office soap opera at this point, and no one wants to say anything to disrupt the saga."

Oscar leans back, chuckling to himself before glancing at the camera, "Oh, almost everyone. Don't tell Dwight or Michael either, they're sure to give it away." He pats his leg for a second before smirking, "I'm team Pam. Now don’t look at me that way! I would love for Y/N and Jim to get together, but he’s just too obsessed with Pam! And that woman really needs to get herself a new man, that Roy is a real piece. of. work."

[ ֎” ]

"Team Pam or Y/N?" Phyllis asks, her smile soft as she raises a hand to cover a giggle, "Now I don't like drama, but absolutely team Y/N. Pam is engaged, it's inappropriate."

[ ֎” ]

"Team Pam, all the way." Meredith nods, smirking to the camera. "She was here first. Gotta be loyal to the branch."

[ ֎” ]

"Oh! Team Y/N!" Kelly squeals, wiggling her body in excitement.

[ ֎” ]

Jim sits in the seat, smoothing his pant legs down and sighing. "So, uh, what exactly do I say?" He places his chin in his hand, his fingers tapping restlessly against his bottom lip.

"Anything interesting?" Jim repeats, glancing out the window in the general direction of Pam and Y/N before looking back. "I mean, there's nothing really interesting about this job. Toner prices, how much each piece of paper weighs or costs-" Jim sighs, shaking his head and dropping his hand, "Honestly, the only reason I'm still here at this point is probably my friends. Pam, my desk-mate over there, we've been here for a while together. And then there's Y/N, the relatively new hire. Or, are they new?" Jim tilts his head to think about it, squinting his eyes toward the ceiling. "Has it almost been a year already?"

Jim shrugs, smirking before tapping his leg, "Oh, and also pranking Dwight. Gotta make your own fun here."

"What the- Jim!" Dwight suddenly yells, drawing half the office's attention. The other half continued blandly on with their work, used to their antics it would seem. Jim glances wearily over toward Dwight as he lugs something up from his bottom drawer, placing a plate with yellow jello and a stapler floating inside onto his desk. "What did you do?"

Jim struggles to hold back a laugh, his hand curled in front of his face and chin resting on his palm. Instead, he shrugs, leans back and crosses his arms while trying to maintain a poker face. "Nothing, Dwight. By the way, what happened to your stapler there?"

"You should know, you did it!" He sits there for a moment, glaring at Jim before bounding up, running and calling out, "Michael!"

You were half standing behind your reception desk to get a good look, sniggering to yourself about this prank- it was a good one. You look over to Jim and see him give Pam a high-five, mumbling something to each other before Jim looks in your direction and shoots you a full smile instead of the smirk he had been wearing. You smile back, sitting back down in your chair and scooting up closer to your computer.

The camera swings around closer to Jim, listening more in on their conversation. "How did you even do it?" Pam asks and snickers quietly before straightening up suddenly, grabbing her phone to press to her ear in an attempt to look as if she was doing her work as their boss exits his office.

"Let me see, let me see-" Michael finally lays eyes on the prank, laughing loudly. "Wow, just- wow!" He laughs some more, patting Jim on the back. "This is a creative one, good job Jimbo!" Dwight scoffs, moving to be in Michael's line of sight. Michael jumps slightly as if remembering he's the boss before clearing his throat and looking at Jim. "Oh, but don't do it again."

"Do what again?" Jim asks, playing dumb still and raising his eyebrows at Michael. Michael barks a laugh in return and pats his back again before wandering back into his office, mumbling about jello under his breath. Jim turns toward Dwight with a victorious grin while you stand, carrying your lunch box toward the kitchen. You tap Jim's shoulder twice in passing as if to say good job, and Jim barely has enough time to lift a hand to yours as you gently pull away to continue to your destination.

"Get it out," Dwight demands, standing near Jim and glaring at him.

"Get what out?"

"My stapler!"

"Well, it is your stapler, Dwight." Jim turns back toward his computer, chuckling under his breath.

"Oh, and how am I supposed to get it out?"

"I don't know, eat the jello?" Jim suggests, causing Dwight to scoff loudly as he plops in his chair.

"I can't just eat the jello, Jim. I wrote my name in whiteout on the stapler so everyone would know it's mine." Dwight pauses for a moment before narrowing his eyes. "Unless you knew that, and you'd assume I'd eat this. You're trying to poison me!" Jim sighs loudly, widening his eyes toward the camera before shaking his head.

"Ok, and with that, I'm going to take my lunch." He stands, turning to make his way toward the kitchen.

"If you need something to eat, I have a whole plate of jello right here for you Jim!"

Jim enters the kitchen, watching you press a few buttons on the microwave to heat your lunch. He dons a small private smile before sneaking closer behind you, reaching out and grabbing your sides while calling out a quick, "Boo!"

You jump heavily and yelp, turning around quickly with a hand pressed to your chest, panting out your breaths. "Fuckin- Halpert!" You yell out, smacking his arm before slumping against the counter behind you. Taking a few more breaths as Jim bends over laughing, you call out, "Unfair!"

"Oh? Unfair?" Jim replies, grinning toward you, "This is just payback for that email!"

"Hey, I sent that yesterday!"

"And I just opened it today." Jim grinned, not at all sorry, as you remember the jumpscare chain email you had forwarded to him, hoping to see his reaction.

"Well, that's unfortunate. I wanted to see you jump, I must've missed it." You pouted slightly and Jim's face did a small change, becoming softer and crinkling slightly at the eyes. You don’t seem to notice as you turn toward your food once the microwave beeps.

"Yeah, you were being harried by Michael, something about new shoes?" At which you groan loudly, holding up a finger with an eye roll.

"Don't even get me started on that." You thought back to that same morning when Michael came in with muddy shoes, whining about how he had just bought them even though you could’ve sworn you had seen Michael wearing them for the last half a year. How exactly did time pass in Michael's world, you wondered? And how had they gotten muddied? It wasn’t even raining outside!

"If you need to talk about it, I'm here," Jim said, sounding oddly sincere, but then continued quickly, "Although if the opposite is true I'm also very willing to go into detail about the newest book I just finished of my series."

"Oh? You mean your nerdy novels about swords and dragons?" You reply, raising your eyebrows and smirking at Jim as you stirred your lunch. “Aren’t you supposed to be a jock or something?”

"Don't pretend like you don't love the series, you listen to me ramble about it every week," Jim replied, never losing his smile and never looking away from you. His focus felt like fire on you, and there was nothing you could do to put it out. You weren’t even sure you wanted to. “And it is possible for someone to like sports and reading at the same time.”

"Hmm." You hum, pretending to think about it. It really wasn't a hard choice- while the stories sounded interesting enough by themselves, it was Jim telling them to you that made the whole week worth it. Listening to Jim become so passionate about something he found interesting was almost infectious, you practically waited for these days just to gain inspiration for your own writing. And if you happen to write fanfiction about the stories you've never actually read- well, Jim didn't need to know about that. "Alright, fine, if you insist. So what's new with Salamander and Patterson?"

"It's Sally and Parker," Jim began in disbelief, rolling his eyes fondly as you pick up your lunch, the both of you moving to the break room. You had known that, of course, but watching Jim try to explain for the seventh time why Sally is absolutely not a salamander and is, in fact, more like a snake than anything else just brings a smile to your face and a warm feeling to fill your chest.

You sat down at a chair, thankful for the empty break room as Jim wandered over to the vending machines. He put in some money and roughly pushed a few buttons, complaining all the while about his book characters. He ends up chuckling and shaking his head as he states that he needed to 'start from the beginning.'

A packet of double chocolate chip cookies lands in front of you, and you grin brightly while reaching for the gift. "My favourite, how did you know?" You look up to see Jim looking quickly away, not noticing the red starting to stain his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

"You eat it every week," Jim replies quietly as if that explains it, fetching his own lunch. "Anyway so then Parker-"

It was later in the day, and you sat bored at your desk, a word document pulled up on your computer that was half written with a personal story. Though you weren't actively typing it, instead spinning a pen in your hand as you stare in the direction of the sales associates.

"I honestly don't know what I'm looking for here," Jim speaks lowly, chuckling as he held Pam's hand in both of his, her palm facing upward. He looks up into her eyes as she giggles, shaking her head.

"No, look closer, here," Pam takes one of his hands, taking a finger and tracing a line on her palm as if this would help him read it, "This is the life line. Or- wait, maybe it's the heart line?" Pam giggles again, though misses Jim's almost yearning gaze as he holds her hand a little tighter.

"I don't know what either of those mean, Beesly," Jim replied, his voice low, and Pam finally looked up. Their eyes met and you finally had to look away, the pain in your chest becoming almost too much to bear.

And, almost as if on cue, Roy pushes in the door to the office, walking forward with his hand holding a leather jacket over his shoulder. You glance up quickly, about to start your usual introduction before realizing who it is and clearing your throat loudly, throwing a worried glance toward Jim. He glances over in time, thankfully, yanking his hands back as if burned when spotting Roy turning the corner. It seemed as though Roy hadn't noticed, smiling at his fiance as he approached before leaning down and kissing her forehead.

You watched the pained expression cross Jim's face for just a moment before he managed to school his features into a poker face. You felt for him, honestly. You knew how it felt when the person you liked, well, liked someone else. You just wanted him to be happy above all else, and you knew pining after Pam was not it. If only Pam wouldn't egg it on constantly, maybe he'd have a chance to get over her.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, let me just pack my things and print out one more file, I'll meet you down there," Pam replied to her fiance, smiling blindingly bright at him before they kiss once more. Roy turned around, passing the reception desk before grabbing a few pieces of candy that you kept out on the top of the desk. He popped one in his mouth before choking dramatically, turning around and coughing a few times before looking directly at you.

"M&Ms? Really? I liked it better when it was Skittles."

"I've never put out Skittles, I like chocolate."

"It doesn't matter what you like, it's for the guests, isn't it? Pam used to put out Skittles and no one complained." He tossed the remaining few pieces onto the floor beside him before walking out of the office. Pam ran up quickly, a worried look on her face.

"I'm so sorry, he must've had a bad day-"

"It's fine, Pam, really." You paste on a smile, annoyed not just at Roy but at Pam for earlier. Pam nodded slowly, her smile regretful as if knowing how you felt before turning around and pressing the last few clicks on her computer to shut it down. She gathered her things in silence, sliding her newly printed paper into a file on her desk. Meanwhile, you stared at your computer screen, not really reading what was there.

"Bye Jim. Bye Y/N, see you tomorrow!" Pam called out, and you replied with a little wave before pressing save on your word document, downloading it to your flash drive. The door to the office hadn't even closed before a new presence was at your desk, leaning over to try and spy on their computer. You looked up to see Jim smirking, looking directly into your eyes.

"Did you close that document just 'cause I came over? Hiding something from me, Y/L/N?" His teasing tone had you smiling against your better judgement, leaning back and crossing your arms.

"Well, I wouldn't want you discovering my master plan. It's a secret for a reason, you know." Jim laughed at your joke, leaning back and taking a handful of M&Ms to pop into his mouth. Watching this, you felt their face deflate just slightly before you hear Jim’s whispers.

"You know, I think I prefer the M&Ms over Skittles any day." He winks, then dumps more from his handful into his mouth, walking back to his desk to finish up his day. You once again couldn't help the small smile that adorned your face in response.

[ ֎” ]

"I've always had a thing for chocolate," You said, shrugging, "I'm the one who sits there all day anyway." You bite your lip for a moment, trying to suppress a smile. "Besides, who cares what Roy thinks? Other people in the office like them, that's all that matters."

[ ֎” ]

"What kind of person do I like?" Jim makes a baffled face, blinking a few times before resituating in his seat. "I don't know why that's relevant, but if I had to choose..." He trails off, his eyes taking on a far-off look, "Someone sweet, smart- someone who laughs at my jokes while also making me laugh. Someone who will help me with my pranks and listen to my ramblings." He looks back up to the camera with a small smile, "Someone with a sweet tooth that I could spoil."

"You coming, Y/L/N?" Jim calls out, the office dark. You're the last two in the building now, it seems, and you glance up from your desk where you're standing to smile at him.

"Oh, I just have a few more papers to print, you go on ahead."

"Don't work too hard, Y/L/N. The effort isn't worth it." You laugh in response, waving him off. You both exchange a quiet goodbye before you wander over to the copier, which was printing multiple copies of what looked like Dwight's face on the 'Scranton Strangler' wanted poster. The camera swings between the pages and back to you, where you only shrug and smirk.

"It'll be funny," Is your only excuse as you take the pages and start hanging them on the pillars of the building around the office, sliding an extra copy into Jim's desk as a memento.

#jim halpert x reader #jim halpert x you #jim halpert #the office us #the office #fanfiction #the office of chocolate and pining #michael scott #pam beesly #dwight schrute

318 notes · View notes