#mike Weiss x black!reader

[widowsofchaos]

Here With You

summary: The weight of drugs can break any relationships, but your love for him is greater.

pairing: Mike Weiss x black!reader

10. “Do you know how it feels to wish for death every day?”

12. “Because I couldn’t bear the idea of you choosing to stay with me out of pity or guilt.”

Beta by @avintagekiss24 A big thanks to my good sis! Thank for being such a great friend on taking the time to help edit!🤍

warnings: fluff and angst.

a/n: this is 1/2 of my submissions for @angrybirdcr ‘s 200 follower challenge! I choose to write for Chris Evan’s character Mike Weiss. Great underrated film! Thanks for hosting, babe! <3 thank you for being so understanding on my lateness on my submissions! <3 sorry again for being late!

do not repost my works!

This wasn’t new -- this feeling of dread --- awaiting for the shit-storm of pain, and the rainfall of tears. A slow, and yet tender feeling like a blossoming bruise. The inside of your cavity feels shattered by every inhale of a strained wheeze.

Cloudiness floats around your skull like a haze, but you move on auto-pilot --- your feet move by the surge of determination, and commitment; a bitter-sweet twinge weighs on your tongue to witness someone you love fall apart at the seams.

It’s 3 in the morning now, the moon beams high in the inky sky. The apartment is blanketed by darkness, cautiously all lights are off. Chaos ensues, your heart lurches at the muffled vomiting, and whimpers from the bedroom down the hall. Your fingers tighten around the bucket, clutching as the plastic digs into your palm.

Two chilled soaked rags hang limply over your forearm. Breathless as your footfalls dash against the carpeting, bolting through the room to see Mike slumped-over the edge of the bed, his legs tangled in wrinkled sheets.

Drenched sweat soaks through two thick pillows --- now a bit flat, and wet --- blankets strewn around by fits of rage or Mike crying that his skin is too boiling hot. A lone lit lamp illuminates the room into a dim dewy yellow flourish --- an excess of light hurts Mike’s eyes, and gives him a migraine.

The bulb emitting makes his entire body shine by the sheen of sweat, shivering, and groans of your name slips from his quivering pink lips.

Half of his body leaning over the mattress, his trembling fingers shakingly gripping the carpeted flooring, as if he was trying to crawl his way out of bed. “I’m here, Mikey. I’m here.” A broken sob escapes your lips, as you gently fall on your knees beside him. Tears break its watery shield, and collide down your cheeks to see Mike crumble.

Drool pooling from his mouth, and puke residue sits at the corner of his lips. His eyes pinching shut-tight, crying at the pain, you shushing him as you caress his cheek.

With all your strength, with gentle hands, you push Mike over on his back, guilt coiling in the pit of your belly at him moaning. Your hands sliding underneath his armpits, you maneuver him -- twisting his torso, and legs so his body can lay horizontally on the bed.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Mike croaks, his voice was hoarse, and raw. You bundle a bit of your nightie in your hand, to wipe his mouth --- it didn’t matter, you’ll wash it later. “It’s okay. No need to apologize.” You stroke your knuckles sweetly against his cheek, reassuring him by touch and voice that you want to be here; to remind him you’re here for the long haul.

You kiss the crease between his furrowing brows, then your lips featherly trail upward, and kiss his forehead, with no hesitation to sweat sticking to your mouth. “You’re still a bit warm, but the fever is going down.” You spoke breathlessly against his skin, your lips tickling his skin.

Gingerly laying the rag on his forehead, Mike sighs in relief, his lashes fluttering closed at the cooling sensation surging through his buzzing head.

It’s been four days of Mike going raw cold-turkey. Four days of pure hell for Mike, and four days of pure grief for yourself.

In the beginning of this trial, when the drugs began flushing out of his system Mike wasn’t himself --- it was as if he’s a frothing beast scouting for substance. Screaming matches spewing from his irritation, itching between these four walls; Mike resembling a caged animal.

Pure rage masking self-hatred; anger at the aches deep in his muscles, pity at that maybe he can’t do this.

To accomplish sobriety.

Vomiting with his head limp, and deep in the toilet, hours of crying, and pleas for that one last hit --- Mike screaming for God to end him, and that he doesn’t deserve you. Cradling him in your arms, rocking him like an infant, as he sputters incoherent cries; speaking in hushed tones in his ear that you love him --- all his flaws, and scars.

What provoked his final decision to get clean, and start a new slate for one’s health, life longevity, and to keep your love --- was a discovery he dreamt to have long ago but felt he wasn’t deserving to earn.

“I’m sorry --- a-about the ca--r-rpet.” Mike whispers in choppy puffs, whining low. Jesus, this man is in pain, and he’s worried about you being mad at the carpet? You shook your head slightly, gesturing to him that you weren’t mad.

“Don’t apologize for that, it’s nothing. I’ll clean it later.” You spoke in a calm hush, as you placed the bucket on the floor, next to his bedside.

Your hand delicately pad against the clammy biceps with one rag, testing his bodily temperature, taking the remaining rag off of your slightly cold-numbing skin.

You kiss the corner of his brow, as you rub down his chest with the crisp rag, his lips part as an airy breath laced with deep relief escapes; as the refreshing fabric graces his flesh. His chest hair swirled a bit under the comforting circular motions.

Admiring his body, your eyes trace over every ink stroke of his tattoos adorning him. Sheen of water linger as you soothe Mike, silently reciting the Buddhist quote on his chest. Through the rag, you trace the designs of his tattoos by the tips of your fingers --- soft as petals.

Your hand travels the rag downward his torso to dull the slight overheating. Mike hums lowly with his eyes laxly closed shut, his breathing now ceasing into an easy rhythm. Memories begin flooding Mike’s head, as his breathing relaxes steadily. Recollections of how Mike and yourself met years prior --- four years to be exact --- at the hospital you work at.

It was a dark cloudy day, the outside world drenched with heavy pouring rain; the atmosphere was thick with dread, and scented with antiseptic. Sniveling, and irritated with a forthcoming migraine, the flickering lightening tube hovering above him was like a menacing tick, making him twitch internally; as he laid in the hospital bed.

Balling the white blue-polka dotted hospital gown into his fists, the fabric bundling between his fingers. Mike was silent, as he scanned his environment motionlessly.

Accidental overdose is the verdict. Sunken eyes with lavender hues, as the mulling cadence of ringing phones, bustling chatter of nurses, and squeaking footfalls of passing doctors flood the hallways.

A click of the door opening, and in all your glory, your hair tied in a bun with a few curls straying, wearing a purple nurse uniform, a clipboard clutched in your palm, Nike sneakers for comfort --- being on your feet all day --- and a name tag boldly showcasing your printed name.

In your palm, are clear bags of his folded clothing, and shoes. Nicely you place the bags at the edge of the bed near Mike’s feet.

“Hello Mr. Weiss. How are you feeling right now?” A melodic timbre that soothed Mike, lulling his weary mind to a blissful state. The concern didn’t go unnoticed, how you worded your question in the namesake of professionalism, and humane authenticity.

‘Right now?’ Usually people would ask how he’s feeling as if he wasn’t struggling prior with the question, ‘How are you today?’ and his usual response would be, ‘Shitty.’ sealed with a somber shit-eating grin, but you asked how he’s feeling right now, so you can help him, not analyze him.

You didn’t sound fake, nor condescending. Usually a lot of medical staff didn’t have much regard for addicts, nor at least a speck of pity or sympathy. Mike’s tongue was heavy, struggling a little to speak up.

Gaping his mouth open and closed, like a mindless goldfish. You peeked over your clipboard, with a sweet arched brow, giggling lowly to yourself --- your brown hues sparkling in amusement. It was a tiring day, so to see this man stammering over his words was beyond cute, and the highlight of your day.

“Are you okay?” You asked with a small curling smile, hiding your snickering behind the clipboard, with only musing eyes squinting in giggles appearing.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m actually better now.” Mike perked up, coughing a bit as his voice was hoarse, bashful, and his pale cheeks dusting pink. Jesus, what’s wrong with me? Why in the fuck am I floundering? Get a grip, Mike! Mike never stuttered around women, always flirtatious. This was new for him.

“That’s good. How is your body feeling after the sedatives? Any discomfort right now?” Your soft voice interrupted his rampant thoughts.

“Just a bit groggy, but what else is new?” Mike humorlessly chuckles, as he shamelessly eyes your body. You notice him checking you out, but you elect to ignore him with a warm smile — but you couldn’t deny, you’re silently enjoying his wordless flirtation; despite your fatigued stature, this man still saw attraction to you.

“I promise it’ll pass. Just get some rest, and stay hydrated.” With a flick of your carmine painted nails, you smoothly perked the clipboard on your waist as you unlatched the metal clip, retrieving a few handbills.

“Here I have chosen a few pamphlets for rehab centers, and a few numbers for therapy agencies.”

“I don’t need those.” Mike pushed your out-stretched hand gently away.

You arched your brow at him, clicking your tongue at his ignorance, “And why don’t you need them?” You inquire kindly, a cautious tone; not wanting to release this man from the hospital’s care, just to snort and shoot up into an early grave.

“Listen, I can tell you’re sweet. Too sweet for someone like me to be concerned with. I’ve tried to get clean, and it never works. It’s just not for me.” Mike hastily sits up, slinging his legs over the bed, flinging the thin blanket off of him, “It’s not worth it.” He mutters under his breath.

You were entirely taken back, wincing at how low he talks of himself. Intently watching this man hastily open the bags to get his clothes, the edge of his jaw pinched pink --- like ripe warm peaches. Was it due to embarrassment?

You place the papers on the bed, as you walk more closely to him.

“You are worth it.” You place his cold hands into yours, cupping as if you’re cradling. Trying to get to his eye-level, make him see that you were serious.

He doesn’t dare to glance your way, “Doesn’t matter.” Mike insists, slowly seizing his hands from your grasp, “Why bother trying only to fail? And then disappoint everyone all over again?” His nose was flaring, not wanting to lash his tongue at you, just at the idea of his addictions being the topic of discussion irks him.

It’s not that he doesn’t want help … it’s that hopeless sinking feeling, that he’s just incurable. A burden. A problem, masking pain with sarcasm and substance to numb it all. A demon clawing at his shoulder, spitting self-hate in his ear.

You’re just not worth the trouble, Mike.

As he stood up from the bed, stretching out his shirt, he noticed from the corner of his eye that you were staring at him worriedly. On instinct, pulling the mask down to cover his anguish once more.

“Wanna help me get dressed, sweetheart?” A curling faux self-confident smirk that was forced, you sniff out like a bloodhound. You immediately caught on the familiar behavior, a usual route for patients to cope out with defense mechanisms. You saw this tactic day in and day out.

But more importantly, it’s one you use too well.

“It may not feel like it now, but it’s not impossible. You’re not the first patient I had who felt this way.” You spoke with conviction, ignoring the insistent words ushered by doctors from the past that were ringing at the back of your head, you can't help someone if they don’t want to get help.

It’s not a martyr shtick, nor a God complex --- but how Mike looked so distressed and sickly as he was pulled in the hospital on the stretcher pained you straight in the heart, parallel to many others before.

“You never know if you don’t try.” You perk your hands on your hips, with an insisting stance. It wasn’t pushy, but Mike could tell you weren’t going to back down.

How you stood firmly with the hands perched on your curvous hips that strained subtly against the cotton uniform --- it was hot, how you stood your ground to him, yet no insulting persistence. Your bubble cheeks scrunching up so cutely. Mike just couldn’t help but be turned on, maybe it's your caring nature mixing into it.

Mike breathed through his nose, his head hung low, his hands sinking into the mattress. A sign of defeat, not entirely submitting, but how your words were honeyed with sterling sweetness got him to halt, and process how his life led up to here.

He glimpses through his long pretty lashes, “Alright --” He cheekily scans your name-tag, pretending he didn’t already memorized it from the moment you walked in.“Y/n. I’ll go. You’re pretty convincing. Maybe you should have been a lawyer too.”

“Oh --- you’re a lawyer, huh?”

“An unlikable one to be exact.”

You suck your teeth teasingly, “I highly doubt that. You seem likeable to me.” You pucker your bee-stung lips with jovial tease, as you tug on the curtain surrounding his bed to offer privacy, his eyes zero on your soft lips that glisten with chapstick sheen, his arms mid-frozen holding onto his articles of clothing.

“Now get dressed, and we’ll get you out of here.” You chuckle, only the shadow of your stihollute appears. Mike chuckles to himself, a little shake of his head, he liked you from the very start.

You knew the circumstances of dating an addict, from day one you knew the weight of his demons Mike carried on his back. He laid all his cards on the table, and you leaped into this life with him head-first.

But how could you not fall for him? His charm, his blunt wit, his intelligence, his kindness and that beautiful face? Only a fool would be blind not to be swooned off their feet for the one and only Mike Weiss. After the first -- rather intense --- first meeting, it was definitely not the last encounter for Mike and yourself.

After agreeing to go to a rehab program, Mike flirted with you immensely; along with requesting for you to accompany him on his first day. “For moral support.” he shrugged, a flirtatious smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

His first day was stoic, but with hushed side-commentary, and sly remarks. Muffling your laughter, you would poke his ribs, silently telling him to knock it off. It didn’t take long for an unusual friendship to develop. You really didn’t see it coming, and if Mike was to be honest, he didn’t either.

The realization of deep love was agnated to a love-drunk punch to the heart.

Days blurring into weeks into months with good morning and goodnight calls, late night conversations - those were the heart-shattering times. It was difficult for Mike to open up his layers, bottling his hurt inside to the point of shaking sobs at 3 am, clutching the phone.

Choppy incoherent words, spurts of feeling worthless. It began with you two having brunch which then led into dinner dates. Soon trust was earned, and you began hanging out at his house or your apartment.

A nurturing nurse and a sardonic lawyer becoming friends--his dry humor doesn’t rub you the wrong way, or how you don’t see it as obnoxious.

“Later when you take a shower, I’ll get you fresh sheets.” You murmur sweetly, as you finished massaging him. Mike slowly peels his eyes open, hooded and squinting. Your voice is silvery to his ears, it always appeases his darkest times --- like that hopeful light at the end of the tunnel.

Silently his eyes raked over your body, your hushed voice brought him back to reality. As he soaked in your appearance, Mike couldn’t stomach how tired you were, your eyes were droopy, your curls sloppily disrayed. As his eyes traveled from your exhausted face to your breasts that swelled over the past weeks to the ample bump protruding against your nightie.

Now entering into your second trimester.

Mike began silently crying, pinching his eyes shut as lone tears spilled down his cheeks. “Don’t cry, baby. We’re getting through this, I’m so proud of you.” You kiss his wet cheeks, not minding the salty tears that kiss his eyes. Nimble sweet kisses, and cooing. You knew how hard he was working to get sober.

“You don’t need this shit.” Mike croaked, not daring to open his eyes, and see the pity in yours.

“Stop that. I love you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you.” You caress his cheeks by the gentle graze of your knuckles, shushing him. Lulling him to calm down from a pending panic attack.

You soft humming quills him, with only a sniffle here and there. You kiss the tip of his nose. “I love you.” Mike mutters under his breath. You giggle under your breath, feeling a bit bashful --- how can he make you so shy even after three years together?

You snivel a bit, biting back a sheen of tears, “And I love you too.” You’ll never get tired of saying that.

It’s been a long road, filled with bumps and turbulence. Many women would have left a long time ago, abandoning Mike at his lowest, but you just couldn’t. You’re too addicted to Mike, from the taste of him, to his scent, to the feel of his skin. His sharp tongue, and his humanity.

There was a moment in this journey that almost halted this life together, where you both had to address every bleeding crevice. It was a toxic mixture of your denial, and Mike’s instinct to push anyone close to him away.

It’s not that you didn’t want to help Mike, or face reality --- you were afraid. Scared that Mike was hurting himself, and all the progress you both built together was deteriorating at the seams, but then his honeyed words of promises of getting better would wrap your head in a rose-tinted daze.

Mike wasn’t trying to convince you, but himself. Just to chip off on the drugs, to keep himself afloat --- that this time it’ll be okay. He can balance his sanity, and his urges of substance that makes him feel ‘whole’. But that was just a temporary moment of brief delusion.

It was about three months ago, your shift at work was a tiresome blur, bustling on auto-pilot. The soles of your feet were aching, the nape of your back was droning in a dull pinch, and your eyes were slightly burning. Your worn body was screaming, and yearning for the comfort of your soft bed, and just to cuddle in Mike’s arms.

But there was a sense of … queasiness yet gleeful.

For days on end, you were puking in the early hours of the morning, your head hanging in the toilet. Waves of nausea, and finally, the nail in the coffin, you realized that your period was five weeks late. A hunch was hovering over your head, like a burning bright bulb. Finally, biting the bullet, and putting on your big girl pants, during a lunch break, you took a blood-test, and sent a cup of your urine to the labs for testing.

Once the results came back to you a few days later, you were speechless for the remainder of the day.

You were deary with worry, unable to conjure the words to form the discovery of yours. As you parked the car in-front of the house, cutting the engine off with the flick of your wrist, snatching the keys. Living with Mike has become a better part of your life, coming home to a person who loves you, and who would hold you, holding them. Grounding yourself back to earth in warmth, blending into one, melting your worldly problems away.

Reminding that you’re not alone.

With a groan, you weaved out of the car, locking it, and trekked up the walkway to the porch. Arching your arm, as your open-palm was rubbing your tail-bone as you waltzed to the front-door, thanking God and his angels that you were able to leave work early.

Dunking your hand in your bag, fumbling for your house-keys, mumbling under your breath as you blearily tried to conduct the proper way to tell Mike the truth, ansty and yet giddy at the toes --- to tell him you’re pregnant.

You always wanted a family, but over the years, the desired fantasy was slowly being strangled with dwindling hope, never really connecting to any soul --- until now, with Mike. Yawning mindlessly, you inserted a key into the lock, twisting, and opening the door.

“Mike, I’m home. I have something to tell you—” A cheery tone falters into silence.

Your foggy haze of exhaustion was smacked off your face, as you almost nearly stumbled off your own feet. Prejuticle vomit bubbling at the back of your throat, as startled eyes all look into you, you felt like a trespasser in your own home.

Witnessing a mass of people seated in your living room, snorting lines off the now stained and scratched coffee glass table, startled as they drink heavily and sloppily gulps liquor, as fogs of nicotine floods the air — staring at you with wide eyes.

Rooted in the middle sector of the couch, eyes bulging with fear, hot under the collar, was Mike himself, sniffling back remnants of coke deep into his nostrils, bare-chested in his red suspenders, and dress pants.

“That’s just great.” You mutter under your breath, a cracked sigh of breath; your jaw clicking to the side, Mike knows that tic very well. Your arms fall limply to your waist, as a gesture of defeat.

You walk away, exhaustion setting and resting in your bones, as your feet guide you upstairs. Begrudgingly so, an unbearable itch at the back of your throat, dying to just scream on the top of your lungs.

Scream and cry.

You can faintly hear Mike alert his friends to pack up and go, scuffling of footfalls and inebriated murmuring begin to flow out of the house. A few chuckles and finally …. it was silent, with the slam of the front door the only indicator that it’s just you and Mike — finally alone.

Fidgety fingers nearly tear the fabric off of you, tugging it off your body button by button with an edge of boiling rage, and a sheen of tears burning at the brim of your eyes. All the joy slowly zaps slowly out of your pores, now a dreary sadness now weighs on your shoulders.

Have I not done enough? To help Mike? Maybe my help wasn’t enough? Maybe his pain is too deep-rooted in him, maybe he has to push himself first to make the first move for recovery? Has he been lying all this time? Maybe he’s never been sober during the entire duration of the relationship?

You suspected it, felt the energy was off for quite some time, and yet you decided to play the love-sick fool dance the dance of denial.

A watery huff of a sigh. A dulling pain begins to throb and engulf your skull, an impending migraine just beyond the horizon. Clenching your jaw, nearly on the brink of grinding your teeth. A somber treading up the stairs looms near the bedroom, as you strip.

Dreading on what’s to come next, Mike was slowly walking to the bedroom, fearing a fight breaking out, worried that you’re going to leave him once and for all. But isn’t that what you wanted? For her to realize that you’re not good enough? Mike belittles and berates himself, as he is ever so delaying his steps.

Counting his steps like the sheeps to lull him at night, as he tries to collect his thoughts, already his tongue heavy with ale, ready to slur an apology. Trepidation beams at his brow, fearing the worse to come, that you’ll finally leave him.

His open-palm collides silently against the bedroom door, right on cue when he’s ready to push, he hears sniffles. Internally wincing at your pain, but like a bandage, he’s gotta rip it off.

Grovel on his knees, if he has to, kiss your feet like a goddess worshipped at an alter — anything for you not to hate him. Bringing strangers - swirly acquaintances - into your shared home, breaking your trust.

A creak of the hinges alerts you. Quickly wiping away your teary cheeks, you stand at your night-stand in nothing but your panties, straightening your hunched over form as you were sobbing into your folded clothes.

With a firm shove of the drawer, you close it, gripping your nightie in one hand, and the other clenching into a fist that hovers over your heart. Trying to level your breathing, not wanting to scare off Mike, you know that he’s hurting too.

You can feel his stare burning holes in the back of your skull.

“Mike, I’m just going to take a shower and head off to bed.” You turn your body around, now facing his mopey face, wanting desperately to just kiss him, and hug him. “I suggest putting a bottle of water at the night-stand to keep hydrated throughout the night, and a bucket to be precautious.” You force a forlorn smile, as you place the nightie on the bed.

Uncertain feet tap against the flooring, you walk hesitatingly at first, towards Mike, placing your palm on his shoulder, your thumb rubbing against his skin. A kiss on his lips, ever so featherly soft. “I’m not mad. We’ll get through this.” You rub the tip of your nose against his sweetly.

Mike knows you’re not mad, it’s beyond that. Mad is just scratching the surface, his heart aches to see your eyes watery, and nearly splotchy pink at the rims. “I hate it when you do that.” Mike’s hoarse voice makes you flinch, as if it grated against your ears.

“Excuse me?” Your nose scrunches up, as your cheeks puff out. “Hate what exactly, Mike? Me supporting you bothers you?” You move away from him, sniffing back your tears, shaking a little at the hands, the back of your knees collide against the bed, softly thudding yourself against the mattress.

“No. You pretending you’re not mad. Pretending that everything is okay.” His nose flares, his chest heaving. Wanting to scream, for you to scream. Just let it all go. Too much is bottling like a ticking time bomb.

“But I’m not mad.” You hiss through your teeth.

“Yes the fuck you are! Admit it! Stop acting like a martyr for one moment, and just say it! Say how you really feel! Say I’m a junkie!”

“Stop it, Mike! You’re just a little …” You trail off, biting your tongue, before anything stupid or insensitive spills out. Forbidding any word to spew out, and hurt him. No matter how infuriated you are, you just couldn’t lash out at him.

“Like what? Fucked up? News flash, Y/n, I’m fucked up. Stop acting as if you can fix me! You act like I can just pick up my mistakes and move along.” Mike shouts, now pacing, practically burning a hole in the carpeting.

“Shut up! I was going to say high!” You hastily stand up to your feet, “And I’m so fucking sorry, that me loving you is a fucking problem. That I see you as you are, a fucking human being, not some addict. Because that’s not what defines you, but you want it to be. You can’t stand to see yourself as anything but.” You cry, your hands not knowing where to put them at, just shaking in mid-air.

“That’s fucking bullshit!” Mike barks in your face, tears ready to fall down his stubbled cheeks.

“No it’s not!” You stomp your foot, your toes curling into the carpet. “You refuse to let me in! Instead you seek comfort in strangers, come together to get high, and fuck it all!” Your hand weaves in the air, angrily gesturing; harshly slamming against your thigh.

“You don’t even fucking know me!” By now, his nose is connected to yours. He doesn’t know why he’s screaming at you, lashing you with his insecurities, but how you just won’t admit that this isn’t helping you either. You’re hurting too.

Jesus, his brain is muddled. Fried. He wants to cry, and beg your forgiveness for what he has said, fall to his knees and just hold you, but instead, here he is, shouting at you. He doesn’t feel like a man, he feels lower than dirt.

“Then let me get to know you! You only feed me scraps, thinking that can subdue me, I want you to open up to me!”

“Why? So you can get some self-satisfaction by helping a charity case?” Mike growled, it was a watery one. “I told you from day one, I’m not worth it!” Mike thrashes trinkets off the drawer with his hand, products and little figurines collide on the floor with a thud, “You don’t need this shit! You don’t need me!” Mike screams on the top of his lungs, now hunching over, falling on his knees, as you sink into yourself; covering your mouth from sobbing too loud.

Have you been coming off as pretentious? Pushing him to keep positive, kind affirmations every-day, reminding him to eat healthy, telling him he’s great no matter what, hovering over him to keep sober? Hovering too much? Pushing too hard?

But you couldn’t help it … you love him too much.

“But I need you.” It was a pitiful sob, his arched spine quivering, his shoulders tense, his fingers digging into the cotton fibers. Slowly, you kneel down, your fingers tentatively rub between his shoulder blades; Mike savoring the touch of your finger tips against his clammy skin.

Seconds felt like minutes, biting your lip as you kept rubbing and soothing him, it always helped him calm down. Finally he spoke up, and what he will say will break your heart, “Do you know how it feels to wish for death every day?” Mike choked on a sob, his head bobs a bit to sniffle.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Baby …” You cry, finally a heavy waterfall crashes down. Holding him, your chest against his sculpted back, “Please talk to me. I don’t want to lose you.” Wet little kisses on him, mumbling, “Please tell me.” Fresh tears water his back.

“I love you too much to pull you down. To my own hell. It’s not right. You’re too pure.” Mike picks his head up, your hands cup his cheeks. Your brows furrowing, shaking your head at him.

“I need you.” You whispered. “I will go to bat in Hell, for you. Sock Satan in the mouth if I have too.” You chuckle, and luckily, he chuckles too with that cute signature Weiss smirk.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I just …” Mike hung his head, sighing. Hating that he lied for months, he was doing good, he was clean for a period of time. But he got hit with a big case, and the stress got too much.

Drugs were easier than asking for help.

“Then why did you keep pushing me away?” You tilted your head, to manage eye contact. You never wanted to push him too hard just to open up to you. Knowing that it only could make him crawl deep inside himself.

“Because I couldn’t bear the idea of you choosing to stay with me out of pity or guilt.” Mike rubs his cheek against yours, “I never had anyone love me, never held anything good.” Mike blubbered.

“I love you for you. Flaws and all. I’m here for the long haul.” Blinking back wet lashes, you lean in more against his face, with a gentle squeeze of his cheeks in the cusp of your hands.

“I love you too.” It was simply sweet. Shy, even. Mike nudges his face against yours, his lips trailing down your pulse point. Your ultimate weakness.

Mike hedges himself at the knees, as he engulfs your nude body in his arms; as you wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss the joint of his jaw, and with ease, Mike lifts you by his palms on your ass, standing upward with you in his grasp.

“Let me take care of you.” You whisper in his ear, “Come take a shower with me.” Caressing your face against his, Mike nodded silently. With quiet steps, and two hearts beating against one, Mike waltzes into the bathroom.

With his fore-arm holding you by the bum, his free hand unzipped himself, the click of his zipper made you quiver underneath your skin. His enchanting warmth shoved your secret in the back burner of your mind, but the journey of it twisting and morphing made you worried — slowly your concern of the possibility of losing the father of your unborn baby was temporarily replaced with touch starvation.

Like a balm to a gashing wound.

It was there but subtle, and quiet. Awaiting it’s time to arise at an unexpecting time, to snatch your heart and squeeze.

The shower was warm and inviting, it helped a little clear Mike’s stuffy sinuses. Your fingers twirling and massaging in Mike’s chest hair, as you both cling onto each other as a life-line. Mike kissed the middle of your brows, as his hands were unwavering from your body.

Silence --- the type that doesn’t need to be filled with unnecessary chatter --- comfortable --- speaking louder than words. His tears blending into the spraying water, and his small tremors were the signs that he was genuinely sorry; and with open arms, you forgive him.

Bathing each other has always been a favorite of yours, so intimate, the soapy sensation of wet skin, the intense eye contact — how perfectly his forehead connects with yours. How soft your touch is against his sex, coddling and cleaning him with care and precision.

Mike rubs the soapy sponge against the terrain of your shoulder blades, trailing down the arch of your spine leaving electric kisses down your spine. A breathy gasp at this welcoming intrusion of Mike seeping the sponge between your asscheeks.

Small lathery cadence intermixing with your wanton moans, as your fingernails scratch slightly against Mike’s back. Mike groaned, it felt so good — the smooth and slippery scratches made him hiss, it was a good pinch of pain.

Cheeky as ever, you slipped your hands to cup his his toned ass; Mike chuckled, mumurming under his breath, his pink lips against your soaked dome, “Greedy brat.” This wasn’t an escape from your issues, clearly both of you need to open the air to discuss your emotions --- a needed shower for two was a nice reprieve from the emotional turmoil.

To clear your heads.

After the shower, and moisturizing, helping Mike into bed, you were braiding your hair, but you were unusually silent. It was time to tell him … now or never. His finger curls against your bare back, fiddling with the thin silk straps against his tips.

You turn your face, your palm holding his fingers. “Tell me what’s on your mind.” Mike spoke quietly, as he laid his back against the headboard. His twirling fingers put you a little ease, but it’s not enough, you have to speak up.

“I have to tell you something …” You trail off, your tone puts him at unease. Your gaze is lowered, Mike shifts his hand away, and perks it underneath your chin.

Making you look at him, with a calm poker-face, Mike insists you, with the soft whisper of your name. Biting your lower lip, his thumb quickly tugging it down. “I’m — I’m pregnant.” Wide eyes gawk into Mike’s own widen orbs, wide as dinner plates.

His breathing got heavy, and soon choppy. You quickly put your hand over his heart, shushing him. “It’s going to be okay. Baby, it’s going to be okay.” A lone tear trails down your cheek, thinking of the worst, you believe Mike is going to bolt out of your life out of fear.

“Is that … ” Mike swallows, “Is that what you wanted to tell me earlier?” His chin wobbles, as you nod, unable to speak. His eyes lower to your flat tummy, hesitantly he cups your belly. His fingers caressing the silk clad skin, he began to cry. Just unraveling in your hold.

That night, you held him tight, and he clung to you tightly; his head laid on your stomach, his tears shedding against your nightie. Mike felt …. scared. Throughout the night, he would mumble that he wasn’t good dad material, but you always tell him, “You’re going to be great.”

That was four months ago, and throughout those four months, Mike was up and down, on and off of drugs, but finally … he stopped. He cried when he first heard your baby’s heartbeat, that’s when he began his rocky path back to sobriety.

Four months of self-hate, sometimes he would leave his journals open for you to read, he couldn’t properly express himself verbally, but in writing, he said it all. He was afraid of the rehab campus’, he preferred your expertise and comfort to nurse him back.

But he couldn’t do this to you, your pregnancy shouldn’t be a stressful one. He knows what he must do.

Mike opened his eyes once more, coming back to reality. Four months and he’s still here. “I’m ready.” His voice was small, yet confident. As if a surge of power consumed his body. His eyes shine with determination.

You were taken back, “Ready for what?” You ask nervously. You bite down on your bottom lip, a little habit you have yet to kick, you would bite your lip till it cracked and bleed.

“To go back to rehab. I gotta do this right.�� You hold back a sob, kissing his forehead. “I want to do right for our baby.” Mike weakly smiles, you smile back. You can already envision your shared future, how Mike will protect and love your child. Happy and healthy, no longer fearing the shadow of death lingering near him.

“This baby is so lucky to have you as their daddy.” With the tips of your fingers, grazing his jaw, you lean down for a kiss. It’s a wispy yet passionate kiss. Sending electric waves down Mike’s spine.

“God, I love you.” Mike mumbles against your lips.

Mike Weiss, lawyer, ex-addict, a lover and a father. Oh, how lucky you are to have him, and how blessed he feels to have you.

[dc41896]

An Ear Full

Pairing: Mike WeissxBlack Reader

Summary🪄: His ex-wife’s tried. Paul’s tried. Pretty much everyone in Mike’s life has tried to set him straight. Maybe your approach won’t be futile like the rest.

⚠️: Language, mentions of Drug Use, brief mention of Nudity, Angsty times, Arguing, ends in Fluff tho (as always because I’m a soft heaux lol)!

You’ve always heard people complain about the annoying, constant beep of the heart monitor. How it makes those who need complete silence unable to sleep nor watch the small television in peace without having to turn it up nearly to max volume. Even then it wasn’t enough to drown out the monotonous tone.

It brought you comfort though. Comfort that he was still on this side hopefully feeling your presence as you sat across from his sleeping figure.

It’s funny. Even with you screaming at each other the day before, you were still there as if nothing happened.

You guessed you could chalk that up to love.

“Give me the bag,” he ordered exasperated and annoyed. Was it from his long disappeared high? The nude woman sprawled against his pillows and sheets? You simply arriving at the cluttered, disorganized house with his clothes in tow trying to get him ready for the hearing? It could’ve been all three, but you just standing there looking at him perched on the edge of his king bed wasn’t helping.

“Give me the fucking bag!,” he repeated raising his voice and making you jump from this unfamiliar tone. Sure you’d heard him like this with his ex wife, Jamie, or whoever was unlucky enough to have ticked him off that day, but he’d never directed his anger towards you.

And after you were done with him, he’d dare not do it again.

Setting his freshly washed and pressed outfit down on the one table Jamie left him, you retrieve the small, black bag containing his stash of favorites along with needles and other paraphernalia he’d need to get to the numbing bliss he loved. He watched you step closer, at what felt like an agonizing pace, holding out his hand to take it from you until your sharp turn to the bathroom and a zipper being unzipped cause him to hurriedly follow, moving faster than he did in a long while.

The sploosh and light thunk of all the bag’s contents hitting the shallow, toilet water and eventually bottom of the bowl has him yanking it from your hands before moving you out the way. “What are you doing?!”

“You want it? Then go get it! Dig in the toilet that hasn’t been cleaned in God knows how long and get your shit because I’m not giving it to you!”

“Y/N please, I don’t have time for your mouth right now.”

“Oh but you have time for random hookers who pretend to be your friend for the night? Or however long you pay them for? You have time for their mouths right?,” you snap.

Any other time, his glare would’ve had you intimated. Trying to avoid upsetting him any further and retreating to your corner like a scared kitten. Now you were standing inches from those pale blue eyes as if daring him to make his next move.

“Yeah. Especially when they don’t talk and let me have my way!”

“Right because that’s what you want. Little yes men that’ll keep enabling you instead of being around those who actually care for you and want to help!”

“Jeez can you both quiet down? I’m trying to sleep,” the previously naked stranger now standing a few feet away in Mike’s red button down states with a yawn.

“You, can leave!,” he shouts over his shoulder before his dark, sunken eyes re-connected with yours. “And why’s it a problem now? You’ve known me for a year yet you haven’t said anything before.”

He was right. You could’ve tried to say something earlier, but you were honestly afraid. You didn’t want to overstep and already knew he’d advise you to stay in your own business rather than poking in his. Now though, it’s like you felt this sense of obligation to at least say something even if he would just brush you off.

You knew exactly where it came from, but you couldn’t tell him. No, you shouldn’t tell him. Just like how you shouldn’t be having the feelings you currently were for him. You could already hear your parent’s and friends’ voices telling you to distance yourself before it’s too late.

“Aww looks like someone has a little crush on you Mike,” the woman mocks. Her condescending tone making frustrated tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Bet you wish you were the one sharing a bed with him hm?”

“Didn’t I tell you to go?!” His gaze stayed glued to you and how your fist nervously shook at your side. Whenever you felt overwhelmed or stressed, your fidgeting fingers lacing with each other was always a dead giveaway. There were plenty of times you two would be hard at work and he’d grab your hand holding it in his larger one until you finally let out that long harbored breath in your chest.

He was willing to bet what little he owned that you were actively fighting how desperately your fingers wanted to fidget, thus confirming whatever her name was’ statement.

“Y/N-,”

“I gotta go,” you interrupted trying to ignore the newfound softness in his features as you rushed pass and out the cramped bathroom. “Remember the hearing’s at four.”

That’s the last thing you said to him. Even when he arrived in court, you only acknowledged each other with a small nod and occasional quick glance. Early the next morning, you were abruptly awoken from your sleep at a panicked call from Paul explaining how he’d arrived at Mike’s to find him OD’d and was now at the hospital waiting to see if he’d make it.

You showed up shortly after not bothering to change out of your pajamas and hadn’t left his side since he was wheeled into his own room from being transferred out of the ICU. Paul wanted to stay, but you insisted he go back home to his family and get some rest. Plus his baby girl would be up soon, and you knew he wanted to be there to help.

So, here you sat in the leather recliner bundled in three blankets trying to keep yourself warm.

“Comfortable?” His gravelly voice hitting your ears has a sympathetic smile forming on your lips as you stand to be even closer to him.

“Nice pjs,” he weakly chuckles at your Mickey Mouse themed top and matching shorts.

“You know where you are? Or what happened?”

“Well from the annoying beeps and bright lights, I’m guessing the hospital,” he sighs. “And the last thing I remember is shooting up, so looks like I overdid it for me to end up here.”

Your disapproving glare at his easygoing attitude only makes him chuckle more. “What? I’m still alive relax.”

“Barely! You coded twice Mike! They thought you wouldn’t make it.”

“But I did so calm down!”

Silence falls over the two of you as you both just peer at each other apparently on track to continue your passionate conversation from before.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you finally speak barely above a whisper crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Alright, no more arguing-,”

“No I mean working with you and Paul. I’m done.”

He winces slowly trying to sit up ignoring your cautions that he should stay put and rest.

“Look I’m sorry about yelling at you and what happened back at the house, but don’t quit okay? We need you. And Paul especially.”

“It’s not about you yelling,” you sniff wiping your eyes before your tears could fall past your lids. “I can’t just sit and watch you keep doing this to yourself.”

“Mr. Weiss! Good to see those eyes open,” Sherry, the middle-aged nurse, smiles entering the room. “And I’m sure your friend is excited too. She’s been here beside you all morning.”

“Yea. She probably doesn’t believe me but I’m happy to see her too,” he answers reaching up with a small grunt to wipe away a missed tear rolling down your cheek.

“Aw I’m sure she does. I don’t mean to interrupt, I’m just here to get your vitals and then I’ll be on my way.”

It takes mere seconds for her to write down his information from the monitor and draw a vile of blood before she’s removing her gloves and letting you both know the doctor would eventually be in to talk with Mike. As soon as the heavy door clicked shut, the silence presumed although now more awkward with your brains each not really knowing what to say next.

“…Maybe it’s time I give this up.”

“Mike seriously.” You’d need about two or three more hands to count how many times you’ve heard Mike swear how he’s gonna get help, especially after a near death experience or the lowest of lows once his high has completely diminished. Those who were used to his antics knew not to trust his words and definitely wouldn’t be holding their breath.

“I’m being serious. I think it’s time to put this behind me for good.”

Narrowed eyes pointed at him, you want to believe that he really wanted to be done, but slowly you were joining those who knew better when it came to Mike.

“…this better not be a joke. Or you just saying what you think I want to hear.”

“I swear on my dead alligator it’s not, and I’ll even make a deal with you. Of course you’ll take over for me while I’m gone, but if I don’t last three months then you replace me for good.”

“No, I couldn’t do that to you.”

“You wouldn’t be doing anything to me,” he yawns. Clearly whatever meds he was on must’ve been kicking in from his oncoming lethargy. “Plus it’s best for clients to have a sober lawyer, which definitely makes you a better fit than me.”

Cold hand brushing the few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead, you lean in to place a gentle kiss on his temple before raking your fingers through his strands nearly making him go back to sleep that second from the relaxing sensation.

“Don’t worry about any deals, you just focus on getting better,” you whisper watching him eventually drift back into sleep.

———

“This!,” the little boy giggled pointing to yet another one of Mike’s many tattoos. They’d probably gone over those littering his arms and chest twice already, but Mike didn’t mind. He’d go over them 20 times to keep seeing how his son’s eyes would light up as his tiny finger traced the ink along his skin.

“That one’s for tic tac toe,” he chuckles watching Grayson attempt to lift his arm permanently marked with perfectly circular dots above and below a red line. The five year old always got a kick out of that one, flashing his toothy grin as his eyes squeezed shut.

“Anddd this one dada!”

His smile grows softer gazing over his two newest additions lying just above and below the junction that was his inner elbow. The purposeful placement concealing the leftover scars that didn’t seem to want to disappear. Of course he’d always remember what was lying underneath, but the two pictures representing the people that stole his heart helped ground him to his formally unimaginable present.

“That’s a kiss from mommy and your footprint.”

“Nuh uh, too small,” he states trying to press his foot against the shaded image as proof making Mike laugh.

“It’s your baby footprint Gray. They take it the same day you’re born and put it on your birth certificate,” Mike explains as Grayson’s mouth forms a little “o”. “You remember what dada called these?”

“Favorite,” he shyly answers.

“That’s right! And they’re my favorite because you and mama are always with me wherever I go and remind me of the best days of my life.”

“What’s your best days?,” you ask stepping out of the bathroom having just completed your nightly routine. He never saw himself as the type of guy fawning over the most minuscule thing his significant other did, he surely didn’t with Jamie, yet here he was giddy at your radiant skin fragranced by the vanilla in your soap and the light hum that left your smiling lips as you comfortably slid into bed.

“Well besides the days I get to cuddle with both of you?,” he smiles kissing the top of Grayson’s head lying on his chest before kissing your temple. “It’s the day little man was born of course.”

“Rightfully so,” you giggle kissing the palm of your sons hand currently outstretched trying to hug you closer.

“And the day you set me straight.”

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeydulcewrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged and don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

[sunshinebuckybarnes]

We made it to September ✨ another month, another rec list. Please make sure you give these gorgeous stories and writers the love they deserve. As always, you are responsible for your own media consumption. This blog along with the majority tagged are 18+ only and contain adult themes.

*marks a series of multi part fic

Lloyd Hansen ✨

69'ing and pussy slapping by @ozarkthedog

Lloyd Hansen x reader

Boys in bed with books by @jobean12-blog

Lloyd Hansen x reader

Bucky Barnes ✨

Stay by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

ex-fiance bucky barnes x fem!reader

Dancing with the devil by @bonky-n-steeb

dark! mafia! bucky barnes x undercover! reader

Everything by @jadedvibes

Bucky x reader

*CEO/DBF Bucky by @bucky-barnes-diaries

CEO+Dad’s Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Bad date by @firefly-in-darkness

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Bite your tongue by @musingsinmoonlight

Mob boss!Bucky Barnes x female reader

The boy is mine by @jobean12-blog

Bucky x reader

*A hundred years from today by @jettia

Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Cosmic love by @barnesafterglow

noble!bucky x princess!reader

Got your chemicals all in my veins by @bonky-n-steeb

husband! bucky barnes x wife! reader

*Sweetest nectar by @navybrat817

Florist!Bucky Barnes x female reader

*This must be my dream by @lunarbuck

bestfriend'sbrother!Bucky x f!reader (any race)

Twisty by @musingsinmoonlight

Bucky Barnes x female reader

*Pretty little thing, pretty little peach by @angrythingstarlight

Chubby!Baker Bucky x Reader

The perfect place to sit by @angrythingstarlight

Beefy!Trainer Bucky x Plus size reader

Ari Levinson ✨

Knead to relax by @mjolnir-steve

Ari Levinson x fem!reader

Firefighter!Ari by @angrythingstarlight

Firefighter!Ari x Reader

It's about time by @xxindiglow

Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Afternoon delight by @sagechanoafterdark

Ari Levinson x Reader

Under the blue by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

Park Ranger!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Steven Grant ✨

To the rescue by @ofstarsandvibranium

Steven Grant x F!Reader

What you've been waiting for by @full-time-make-believer

Steven Grant x female reader

Nick Fowler ✨

Falling apart for you by @navybrat817

Nick Fowler x female reader

Steve Rogers ✨

Liar liar by @geminixevans-stan

Mafia!Steve x Black Reader

Wife worship by @labella420

mob!steve rogers x fem!reader

*His inheritance by @jtargaryen18

Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

*Herbal illusion by @sweetflowerdreams

King!Alpha! Steve Rogers x Servant!Omega! Reader (Female!Reader)

Andy Barber ✨

A butterfly will fly by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

Andy Barber x ballet dancer!Reader

Ari Levinson x Steve Rogers ✨

I'll be seeing you by @navybrat817

Spy!Ari Levinson x Female Reader, hint of dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Lee Bodecker x Steve Rogers ✨

Tempting fate by @dreamlessinparis

Semi!Dark!Mob!Lee Bodecker x F!Reader, Mob!Steve x F!Reader

Sam Wilson ✨

Only an echo by @the-witty-pen-name

Rockstar!Sam Wilson x f!reader

Andy Barber & Mike Weiss ✨

*Barber & Weiss by @jtargaryen18

Dark Andy Barber x Dark Mike Weiss x Reader

Steve Harrington ✨

Next time by @pillow-titties

Steve Harrington x Reader

[1000night]

Ponytail

pairing: College! Jake Jensen x short, female, chubby reader

warnings: fluffy,

He shouldn't stare at her ponytail, if she finds out, she will think he's a creep. But Jake couldn't move his eyes from you.

Your long black hair always spread on your small shoulder (yeah, he knows you would smack his arms and say it's not tiny. But you are so small to compare to him.) Yet now it is tied up with a dodger blue scarf scrunchie set, and his pupils follow the swaying ponytail automatically.

"J...JJ? Jake!" A loud voice drags him back to earth and he turns his head to the left. Steve and James palm their hand over their faces; Ari and Mike just give him a knowing look and smirk. Ryan, Johnny, and Colin are busy chatting with other girls. The voice’s master now raises his brows and eyes behind Jake’s shoulder, then he smiles.

“If you want to check her out, you must quick, Jake.” “Um…yeah I know. Andy, but…I just don’t know how.” Ari and Mike walk to his sides, Ari crosses his arms across his beefy chest. “Care to share what were you looking at, Jensen? Her face? Her breast? Her waist or her legs?”

Jake frowned when he heard what Mike said, he doesn’t like the way Weiss talks about you. Wait… “All you said is her front, but I’m sure she’s back to me…oh shit!” Slowly, Jake turned around and saw you smile and wave shyly to him. Jake parts his lips but he couldn’t think, couldn’t find any word, either.

He saw you freeze your action, put down your hand embarrassed, and fled. “Why don’t you wave back, JJ? You make her feel like a fool.” “I, I don’t know how to react, Jamie. I’m too scared.” “I guess you just chicken out your chance, Jake.” Jake groaned and rolled his shoulder, he sighed as he last saw the way you fled before he came back to his doom with his roommates.

The second time Jake sees you wear a ponytail, it’s in the evening the late summer night. You were wandering the campus, and his attention was on your beautiful ponytail again. “Oh, come on, JJ! GO AND TALK TO HER! You know what you should say, and we’ve practiced that the whole week!” Colin whined as Jake didn’t move an inch.

“Hey, y/n! Please wait!” A shout stopped you, but that’s not Jake. “Oh, uh, what’s wrong Ryan?” Jake noticed you stepped back as Ryan close to you, you were touching your ponytail. “This nerd guy is Jake, Jake Jensen. We all call him JJ. He wants to be friends with you. Can you give him a chance?” Johnny and Ari pushed him from behind and he almost bumps into you, you hold his arms, and he could smell your sweet fragrance and flora scents. “Careful! Do you have any hurt?” He looked up at you and shook his head. “N, no! I’m good, I…uh…” You reached out your hand to him and introduced yourself. “Nice to meet you, Jake.” And he’d never forget your angelic smile.

[wiypt-writes]

Sunny Side Up

Summary: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, right? And for Mike, there’s no better way to start it than by eating his favourite thing, ever.

Pairing: Mike Weiss x Reader

Warnings: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Brief mentions of drug addiction- nothing graphic. Language!

A/N: So this was what popped into my head after seeing @imanuglywombat​ post that damned latest Sex Position as part of her downright filthy and wonderful “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “The Special Breakfast”. See here for more information. And you can totally blame @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for this one. I wasn’t gonna write it but…yeah, I did. Sorry not sorry.  I’ve tried to make the reader as non-descript and as inclusive as I can but I don’t usually do reader x fics so I apologise if it hasn’t quite hit the mark.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader.  By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Tagged my permanent tag list.

Main Masterlist

********

“No, that’s not the same, at all.” Mike’s voice drifted up the hallway of you house as you closed the door behind you, shutting out the bitter January wind that has descended over Dover. “Yeah, well they signed up to the terms so....”

You glanced at your watch, it wasn’t even seven-AM yet and he was already on to someone about the current case he was working. But then, that was Mike all over. An addict, only now you were glad to say the only thing flooding his system was adrenaline and passion for his work.

You hung your jacket up on the pegs by the door, unwrapped your woollen scarf from round your neck and placed that over the hook above your jacket and then reached down to unzip you boots, before toeing them off. Your sock clad feet padded down the wooden floor of the hall towards the kitchen and you walked in to see Mike was bent over a file on the island in the middle, already dressed for the office.

“Clause ninety-one, paragraph twenty, sub-bullet two. Yup. We’ll present that to them today, give them chance to respond.” He paused for a moment, his head turning to you, a warm smile spreading across his face as you leaned over for a quick peck before you headed to the fridge for a soda. “Yeah. Okay, no problem, see you about half eight.”

With that he placed the cordless phone down and turned to face you.

“Morning, Baby.” He grinned, before he nodded to the Diet Coke in your hand. “Interesting choice of drink for breakfast.”

“Technically it’s not my breakfast time.” You shrugged back. “More like dinner, I suppose.”

Mike chuckled as he crossed to space towards you, his hands falling to your hips before he bent down and brushed his lips against yours in a hardly there kiss. “Good shift?”

“A heart attack, car accident, two broken legs, couple of flu cases and a shit tonne of idiotic drunks, the finest Delaware has to offer.” You shrugged. “Usual shit.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Dr Y/L/N”

“Lucky for you I do, or we’d have never met.”

“And I’d be dead.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, swallowing a little. The memory of that night almost eighteen months ago was still raw. If you hadn’t stopped by at Mike’s that evening following an argument the pair of you had earlier in the day, you’d never have found him almost dead from an overdose. It had been a long road to recovery, and whilst nothing was ever proven, Mike and Paul were convinced that it was something to do with the safety needle case they had been working. Despite the fact that there was enough heroin in his system to stop his heart, Mike swore blind to you he hadn’t taken anything but a few lines that night, and there was something about the way he said it that made you believe him. And so did Paul.

The authorities never managed to prove anything, but there was one good thing to come out of it. When you had broken down and told Mike how scared you’d been that he was going to die and that you couldn’t cope anymore with the constant fear that one day he would kill himself for real, it gave Mike the final kick he needed because he didn’t want to lose you.

So he got clean. And this time he did it for good.

It wasn’t easy, for either of you. Once he was medically fit enough, Mike had been placed on a programme at a Rehab Centre, whereby he saw no one bar trained medical specialists and councillors for six weeks. It felt like the longest six weeks of your life but he did it. And when you went to pick him up, you instantly burst into tears at how different he looked, how better he looked, how healthy he looked.

The road to recovery is a long one, paved with temptations, you knew that being a Doctor. And whilst Mike knew and understood his triggers thanks to his programme, those temptations met him everywhere, especially because he knew exactly where and how to get his fix. So the pair of you agreed to take a fresh start. You traded Texas for Delaware, the State you were originally from, and you were beyond proud to be able to honestly state that Mike Weiss had been clean now for eighteen months. Well, apart from alcohol that is. But even that was enjoyed in moderation, and to be honest, you’d rather him sit at home with a glass or two of bourbon each night that sticking fuck knows what into his veins.

You cocked your head to one side as his hands flexed on your hip and he gave you a little side smile. “Sorry. Oh, hey guess who I got a call from?”

“Who?” You asked as he stepped back, grinning.

“The Alligator Farm. Snappy’s got himself a lady friend. They’re gonna send me some photos and stuff.”

You smiled, giving up that beloved alligator had been a hard sell to Mike. “That’s great.”

“Yeah. Oh and Paul was thinking of coming over with the family in the spring. I said they could stay here, I know it’ll be a squeeze but is that okay?”

“Course it is.” You reached up to cup his cheek. “It’ll be lovely to see them again.”

Mike smiled and dropped another kiss to your lips, this one slightly stronger before you pat his chest as he rest his forehead against yours.

“I need to go shower.”

“Want me to come join you?” He asked, eyebrow raised and you smiled.

“As good as that sounds there’s something else I want more.”

“Oh yeah?” He grinned, his eyes flickering down to the buttons on your blouse and you laughed.

“Calm down, Stud. I want pancakes and bacon, I don’t give a shit what time it’s supposed to be for me.”

Mike groaned as you moved away from where you’d been stood with your back to the large, stainless steel fridge and headed out of the room. He watched you go, the gently sway of your hips in your well fitted black pants made his groin twitch. He was half tempted to fuck your demands and go and jump you in the shower whether you wanted him to or not, but he’d seen the flicker your face had given when you’d described how your twelve-hour shift had gone down. Despite your blasé tone, he knew you too well and understood exactly how tired and stressed you were feeling. So, instead, he turned his attention to making breakfast.

Something he prided himself on was his cooking ability. He’d picked it up pretty fast since you’d moved here, he found it was a welcome distraction, so much so you very rarely made meals now, bar when you insisted on doing a roast which he never argued against.  Within fifteen minutes he had a stack of pancakes, bacon, eggs- sunny side up, as you preferred- all laid out on the island and ready for you to help yourself to. He’d just poured you an orange juice when you walked back into the kitchen, hair piled on your head in a messy bun, wrapped in a dressing gown and he was pleased to see you looked relaxed.

“Oh, Mikey, this looks great!” You smiled as he wrapped an arm round you, kissing your head. He watched as you helped yourself to a huge plateful before making your way over to the table and sitting down with a sigh. Mike tucked his tie into his shirt to avoid it dropping into his food and plated himself a helping up before he sat down at the place next to you, cracking his neck slightly. The pair of you chatted about the day ahead, which for you consisted of sleeping until it was time to get up for your next shift, Mike’s contained a meeting with a company who he was currently in the process of negotiating a settlement with on behalf of a client. When you’d finished, Mike made to clear away the dishes but you gently placed your hand on his arm and stood up, insisting on doing it as he’d cooked.

When you returned to the table, Mike pushed his chair back slightly and patted his knee.

“Come ‘ere.” He smiled softly and you grinned, settling yourself on his lap sideways, your arm looping round his shoulder, fingers gently playing with his suspenders. He gave a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your head, happy to simply be close to you for a moment.

“You doing okay?” You asked and he smiled, your words carrying that hidden meaning- ‘Do you want a fix, today?’

“I’m good, Babes.” He pulled back to look at you. “I promise.”

Smiling you gently placed your lips on his in a soft kiss, which soon became heated as Mike’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. He was pleased when you reciprocated, opening your mouth slightly to allow him in. He could taste the sweetness of the syrup on you from your pancakes and, as your tongue gently swirled against his, he let out a little groan from the back of his throat and he felt you smile.

“How long till you have to be in the office?” Your voice was lower than you’d intended, betraying exactly what you had in mind and Mike grinned at you, pulling back a little, as he glanced up at the clock.

“Just over forty-five minutes, why?”

You bit your lip, fingers toying once more with his suspenders which were clipped to the waistband of his light, grey trousers and sat over a maroon shirt, set off with a black tie. “Do I gotta spell it out to you, Weiss?”

“No, I just like hearing you beg.” A cheeky glint flashed in his eyes and you gave a snort.

“I do not beg.”

“Really?” He arched an eyebrow and in a swift moment he stood up, causing you to give a shriek of a giggle as he sat you on the table in front of him. “I bet,” he pushed on your shoulders causing you to rest your weight on your elbows as he loomed over you, gently reaching for the tie on your robe, “that I can have you singing my name and begging for more,” his hands made quick work of the knot and pulled it open, before his fingers slid up the front, opening it to leave you bare in front of him, “in less than five minutes flat.”

“Less than five minutes?” You looked up at him, his eyes blown with lust and you smirked. “You’re so full of shit.”

He wasn’t though, you knew full well that you were the one full of shit. Mike had on many an occasion had you crying his name in less time than it took you to sing a verse of the National Anthem, and he knew it as the cocky expression on his face showed.

“Oh, Baby Girl.” He chuckled, bending over, his mouth brushing against that spot on your neck, the bristles of his short beard scratching your skin. “Have you learnt nothing, yet?”

“Only that you’re a cocky little bastard.” You tried to keep your voice level but it didn’t work. Your words came out a shaky whisper as one of his hands gently splayed on your stomach and brushed up your body to your sternum as he peppered hot, opened mouthed kisses across your collar bone, before his lips ghosted up your neck, over your chin and his mouth claimed yours in a searing kiss as his hand palmed at your breast. As he rolled your nipple between his finger and thumb you gave a moan and he smirked against your mouth.

Suddenly, he was gone from over you and you frowned, missing his sudden presence and you propped yourself up on your elbows to see him settling back in the chair by the table.

“Mike, what the-“

You were cut off as he reached over, grabbing your ass and hoisting your pelvis up, pulling you towards him. Before you could register what was going on, your legs were over his shoulders and you just caught a glimpse of his face, as he quirked an eyebrow at you, lips curled upwards in that maddeningly smug bastard grin, before his mouth was trailing up the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, Jesus.” You let out a little groan as he neared the place you now desperately wanted him and he chuckled.

“No, just me.”

“Fuck off you-“ But whatever it was you were going to call him flew from your mind as his tongue licked up your sex, and grazed against your clit, teasing it with quick, hardly there flicks which, you were ashamed to say, had you riled up something feral. His hands palmed at your ass, his fingers curling round the outside of your thighs as he quickened his movements, his mouth expertly devouring you, tongue flicking into your entrance as his lips circled that sensitive nub, giving a suck that made you cry out, your back arching off the table, pushing yourself further onto his face.

Mike let out a chuckle which vibrated exquisitely against you and you gasped again, your hands slapping onto the cool surface of the table, fingernails feeling the grain of the wood as he upped his efforts dramatically, lips and tongue teasing you in a way that was so delectable it was teetering along that fine line between pain and pleasure. His mouth expertly devoured every inch of you, from your inner and outer pussy lips to the depths of your walls, tongue fucking you like you he was starving, despite the breakfast the pair of you had eaten moments ago.

“Fuck, Mike, I need…” Your voice was croaky, the words sounded far off as they bounced around your lust addled brain and once again he chuckled.

“I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah you arrogant sh-oooh fuck!” You cried as he gently nipped your clit. “Shit!”

You were willing yourself to remain grounded, wanting to prove him wrong but you couldn’t. You couldn’t fight the urge you felt to ride over the edge which was building like a fire inside you. When his mouth was over you completely once more, tongue deep, you felt him move one of his hands and his thumb pressed against your clit, before the pressure eased off and his tongue slipped away.

"Okay, okay you win, Mike, please for the love of God!” You groaned and with a final, maddeningly smug chuckle he dove back in, only this time when you felt your orgasm brewing he didn’t stop. One of your hands flew to his hair, pulling lightly on his soft, spiky strands and he gave a growl as you tugged, his efforts doubling once more as his beard scratched against your sensitive pussy and inner thighs. The coil in your belly was tightening, your entire body quivered and with a final flick of his tongue you gave a cry as your orgasm crashed over you. Your toes curled into his back just below his shoulders, your own back arched as your walls clamped down over nothing, the room fading out as everything went silent and the lights erupted in front of your eyes, your entire body feeling like you were floating.

Mike grinned, guiding you through your release before he stood up, pulling you further to the end of the table as he undid the flies on his trousers, freeing his painfully hard erection. The swollen head of his dick gently swirled around your folds before he buried himself inside you, groaning as he felt you fluttering around him in the after throes of your orgasm. You let out a low groan and finally opened your eyes, looking up at him as he pounded into you, fully clothed, those fucking suspenders that drove you wild still looped over his shoulders.  

He slid one, large hand under your back and pulled you up causing you to cry out as he drove deeper into you, his hand on the base of your back pulling you up and towards him as he dipped his head to give you a dirty, sloppy kiss whilst he rolled and thrust into you. Then His lips moved down, nipping at your neck, his breath hot on your ear as your head fell back, a low moan rumbling in his throat.

“God, I love seeing you like this, fucking wrecked all because of me.” His panted words made you groan even more as the heat in your groin was beginning to mount again. “Makes me higher than any fucking drug ever could.”

His thrusts continued, hard, deep, and you felt his dick throbbing inside you as he drove up against your spot, his lips back on yours as he kissed you hard, swallowing the pants and whimpers you were making as you began to teeter on that cliff edge again. With a deep roll of his hips you let out a low wail and came, once more, your core spasmed around him as your entire body tingled, and that was enough for him to follow you. With a powerful thrust he stiffened, a low grunt stuttering from his lips as he pulsed inside of you, his hips growing sloppy before they stopped completely. His chest heaving, he pressed his forehead to yours, the pair of you gasping for breath as you came down from your high.

“Shit, Mike.” You managed to stutter as he grinned, his lips meeting yours in a soft peck. “That was…”

“Yeah, I was pretty good.” He chuckled and you slapped his arm as he moved and pulled out of you. You straightened your robe and stood up, wincing as you felt his release trickled down your inner thigh.

“I need another shower.” You grumbled, before you glanced at his crotch, the damp patch where he’d pressed against you was clear as day. “And you should probably change your trousers.”

Mike glanced down before his eyes met you, and he shrugged. “Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll go into the office like this and then every time I see it I’ll be reminded exactly what a damned good breakfast I had this morning.”

You blinked before you shook your head, scoffing. “You’re gross.”

He laughed. “You love it, Sweetheart.”

“I love you.” You corrected, your hands sliding up over his shoulders and he smiled, a pure, innocent smile that made him look like a schoolboy before he took your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, pulling away, his nose bumping against yours.

“I love you too.” He whispered, his eyes locking onto yours. “Now go, before I decide to play hooky for the day.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Weiss.” You smirked, before with one final quick peck you left the room.

Mike watched you go, before he ran his hands through his hair and turned to glance around the kitchen, his eyes falling to the table he’d just fucked you senseless on.

He should probably clean that before he went to work…

[onsunnyside]

𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙀𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙨 & 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 — 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝘾𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨

Includes: Chris Evans - Steve Rogers - Ransom Drysdale - Andy Barber - Curtis Everett - Mr. Freezy (Robert Pronge) - Ari Levinson - Jake Jensen - Frank Adler - Johnny Storm - Colin Shea - "Me" - Mike Weiss - Jake Wyler

𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘀 & 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 ➺ 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝘾𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨

╭ Read the warnings for each fic. Includes fics with non-Chris Evans characters. ╯

*New fics added! - #Galore Update*

Organized by author.

@andysbubba - four's company - ceo(s) au, andy barber, ari levinson, ransom drysdale

@angrythingstarlight -

[Call in Sick] - bucky barnes x reader, boss!andy [Disciplinary Action] - bucky barnes x reader, andy barber x reader

Wicked Little Games - mob au, bratty!reader x mafia!steve, reader x bodyguard!bucky, reader x bodyguard!andy barber

@avintagekiss24 -

[Paper] [Power] - ransom drysdale x black!reader x andy barber

We Loved With a Love That Was More Than Love - gang bang/multiple sex partners m/m/m/m/m/f, cult-like gathering, cult rituals, steve rogers x black!reader ; minor pairings: andy barber x black!reader, sam wilson x black!reader, ransom drysdale x black!reader, bucky barnes x black!reader

@awesomerextyphoon - Speculum Cupido - dark, dark!steve rogers x reader x dark!ransom drysdale

@captainapple - Whatever It Takes - dark, dark!andy barber x reader x dark!steve rogers

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor - Not The Only One - ex spouses, dark!andy, dark!jake jensen

@et-lesailes - spreading the sugar [1] [2] [3] - sugar daddy!andy & ransom drysdale (twins) x reader

@fairyevans - [Warm Welcomings] [House Warming Gifts] - carter baizen x reader, ransom drysdale x reader

@lahyene - Eavesdropping. - steve rogers x reader ft. johnny storm (as steve’s brother)

@navybrat817 - Overtime - jake jensen x reader, bucky barnes x reader

@nsfwsebbie - you better not shout, better not cry. - dark, dark!sebastian stan x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader, dark!lee bodecker x reader, dark!charles blackwood x reader, dark!chris evans x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!ransom drysdale x reader, dark!andy barber x reader.

@ozarkthedog - Proviso - CEO!chris evans x reader, andy barber x reader

@river-soul - A Different Kind of Love - A/B/O, alpha!andy barber x omega!reader x beta!jake jensen

@saint-bvcky - to have & to hold - andy barber x bi!woc! reader, ransom drysdale x bi!woc!reader

@sinner-as-saint - Devilish. - drysdale twins (ransom & steve) x waitress!reader

@stargazingfangirl18 -

Afterthought - biker au, biker!andy barber x reader, biker!ari levinson x reader

[Dare] [Truth] [Consequences] - Consequences: andy barber x reader, past ransom drysdale x reader

Ensnared Masterlist - dark, ransom drysdale x reader, minor mr. freezy (robert pronge) x reader

Foursome w/Andy, Ransom, & nomad!Steve

Necessary Arrangements Masterlist - mob au, different reader x each character - andy barber, ari levinson, ransom drysdale

Ransom/Ari/Andy Foursome

Taken - dark, prison au, dark!andy barber x reader x dark!ransom drysdale x dark!steve rogers

@starryevermore - she gets the flowers - ransom drysdale x reader, steve rogers x reader

@strawbeariefaerie - As if! - dad's best friend!ari levinson x reader, ft. boyfriend!jake wyler × [black//woc]fem!reader

@sweetlyscared - A Simple Solution - soulmate au, andy barber x reader, ari levinson x reader, andy barber x reader x ari levinson

@the-iceni-bitch - Religious Kink with Jake and Colin

[jtargaryen18]

Master List  (September 17, 2024)

I write about MCU characters, their actors, and their various characters outside the MCU. 

* NSFW/Explicit Content ~ # Series ~ ^ One-shot

New! His Inheritance: Dance with the Devil Chapter 35*#

New! House of Shadowed Roses Chapter 1*#

New! His Inheritance: Renewal Chapter 34*#

Avenger Tales

Claiming the Queen*# (Reader x ?) In Progress (MCU x GoT crossover)

Dance Hall Days*^ (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

Fill Me Up*^ (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

How Blue, How Beautiful*# (Steve Rogers x Nebula) Complete

How to Dismantle Steve Rogers*^ (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

The Little Things That Give You Away*# (Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes AU) Complete

Loki’s Holiday Lesson*^ (Loki x Reader x Bucky Barnes AU) Complete

Lost Boy’s Life*^ (Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes AU) Complete

My Winter Romance: Helena *# (Bucky Barnes x Reader) In Progress

One Night With You*# (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Complete

Pyramania*# ~ Pyramania (Bucky Barnes x OC) Complete + Sign of Fire (Steve Rogers x OC) In Progress

The Shape of My Heart*# (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x OC) In Progress

Dark Avenger Tales

Innocence Series

All Heaven in a Rage*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

Waves That Beat on Heaven’s Shore*# (Bucky Barnes X Reader) In Progress

Other Titles

Bad Intentions*# (Tony Stark x Reader) Complete

Clint’s Seaside Christmas*^ (Clint Barton x Reader) Complete

Dancer in the Dark*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

Dark Commander*# (Dark Steve Rogers x Reader) In Progress

A Gentle Frost*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) In Progress

His Inheritance*# (Mobster Steve Rogers x Reader) In Progress

Misled*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

Project Venus*# (Steve Rogers x Reader) In Progress

Someone You Loved*# (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Complete

Stand Alones

Barber & Weiss*# (Andy Barber x Reader x Mike Weiss) In Progress

Black Invitation*^ (Werewolf!Ransom Drysdale x Reader) Complete

Darkness on the Edge of Town*# (Charles Blackwood x Reader) Complete

Dynamite & Whiskey*# (Andy Barber x Reader) Complete

Final Girl*^ (Robert Pronge/Mr. Freezy x Reader) Complete

A Gentleman and a Scholar*# (Bryce Langley x Reader (Finn!Female)) In Progress

Getting Clean*# (Mike Weiss x Reader) In Progress

Hot Girl Bummer*# (Jake Jensen x Reader) Complete

Jealous Guy*# (Chris Evans x Reader) In Progress

Johnny Storm and the Blizzard*# (Johnny Storm x Reader) In Progress

Midnight in the Garden of Evil *# (Charles Blacwood x Reader) Complete

Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales*# (Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Marta’s sister)) In Progress

Out of Darkness*# (Curtis Everett x Reader) In Progress

Pretty Baby*# (Robert Pronge aka Mr. Freezy (The Iceman) x Reader) In Progress

Tonight I’m Yours*# (Ari Levinson x Reader) Complete

Randomness/Asks

The Aphrodisiac*^ (Steve Rogers x Reader) Complete

The Intern*^ (Mike Weiss x Reader) Complete

Challenges

Dark Curtis Holiday Stories* December 2019

30 Days of Chris Stories* June 2020

4K Challenge Stories* August 2020

J’s Haunted House* October 2020

60 Days of Chris Stories* June-August 2021

Friday the 13th Flash Fiction* August 2021

Out of this World Halloween* October 2021

Concept art by Stitch Kingdom

[jamiespalace21]

Barber & Weiss ~ Ch 2 Test

Chapter 2

This is a test version of the original post. To read more, check out the series masterlist below on my primary blog.

Series Masterlist

Words: 2.6 K

Pairing: Dark Andy Barber x Dark Mike Weiss x Reader

Warnings: Expletive use. References to drug dealing, drug use, and embezzlement. Dubious consent, mild coercion, sexual blackmail, contract for sex as repayment, theft. Oral sex (female receiving).

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: You run the office at Barber & Weiss and love your job and employers. When your drug-dealing boyfriend gets in trouble with a loan shark, you’re hesitant to embezzle money from the law firm to bail him out. But he promises you he’ll be able to return the money quickly, before someone notices it’s gone. What’s going to happen to you when your boyfriend is arrested and your bosses know about your theft?

A/N: Mike gets you all to himself for the night.

~~~*~~~*~~~

The next weekend Laurie went out of town for work and Andy promised to stay with Jacob Friday night until she got back. Mike didn’t want to leave their little office manager by herself in Andy’s house since it had been less than a week since Jimmy had been picked up.

They’d given her a couple of days to get moved in, to adjust to the situation they’d devised for her. Mike had arranged for some of his more street-wise friends to pack up her belongings and bring them to Andy’s. He knew she’d been worried about how she’d get her things.

Honestly, she’d been on the edge of worry since they’d hired her. It showed in the sadness he read in her face when she didn’t know he was looking, the tension in her body at the end of the day. With that asshole for a boyfriend, it really wasn’t a surprise.

Their girl was a damn good office manager, represented Barber & Weiss perfectly. But her experience and professionalism weren’t the only reasons they’d hired her.

It was just last night that they’d all gone back to Andy’s for dinner. Then as they had the first night, they moved everything to Andy’s guest room. They’d enjoyed their girl, loved her until she was a trembling mess between them. And just as he had the first night, Mike eventually headed back home.

But even with the friends who came and went at all hours, Mike’s humble house was quiet and lonely in a way he’d never noticed before.

It made sense for her to stay at Andy’s. Sure it did. Mike just didn’t like it. Not now that he had time to think about it.

Tonight, she didn’t know he was coming, and Mike wanted it that way. He’d had a late meeting with an expert for the Fields case, so he’d sent her home, loving how flustered and confused she was with Andy already gone and knowing the house was empty. He’d called a friend to make sure she made it okay since he had the interview.

And he could have knocked when he reached Andy’s house. He let himself in instead, wanting to see how things really were.

It was an hour until midnight but she already had the lights out downstairs, a hint of her perfume lingering around him as he headed for the guestroom.

It was empty. Mike shook his head, knowing immediately Andy had moved her into his own bedroom upstairs.

Sneaky motherfucker.

Andy knew when he came up with the idea for how their little angel could pay back the money she’d stolen that he had to include Mike. They were equal partners in the firm. And Andy knew Mike wanted her as badly as he did.

But it seemed that’s where equal partners ended. Andy had the advantage, and he knew it.

That being the case, Mike didn’t have to worry about playing fair now, did he?

Quietly, he climbed the stairs, finding her in Andy’s bedroom, in Andy’s bed, just as he expected. Mike lingered in the hallway, just taking her in as she sat against the headboard, flipping through channels on the huge TV in front of her.

His little angel looked small in that huge bed in just a black band t-shirt and little sleep shorts. She looked tired and he knew everything was preying on her mind. The wariness in her eyes as she found something to watch and tried to focus on it brought out a need to protect her, to make her feel safe.

Oh, Andy was in for a fight. He just didn’t know it yet…

Tapping on the door to let her know he was there, he knew he’d scare the shit out of her. He didn’t like the way she jumped on the bed, her eyes wide as he walked into the room.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He meant it. “I didn’t want to wake you if you were sleeping.”

She blew out a sigh of relief, trying to smile as he stopped at the edge of the bed. “How did the interview go?”

Mike shoved his hands in his pockets, moved closer. “Good. I think he’s going to be able to help us.”

When he sat on the edge of the bed, she didn’t shift away but she still eyed him warily. Maybe it was because Mike wasn’t supposed to know she was sleeping in Andy’s bed. Maybe because she was reluctant about their arrangement. That would be understandable.

Maybe she preferred Andy to him.

No.

“Had any trouble?” he asked, toeing off his shoes and scooting up to stretch out next to her.

She shook her head. “I got here, had something to eat, and decided to turn in early.”

She didn’t say home. Mike smiled.

“Want some company?”

“You mean for…?” she asked nervously.

Mike traced a finger along her trembling lower lip. Yeah, okay, the arrangement seemed like a good idea in theory. But he didn’t like this. He didn’t want her this way.

But he very much wanted her.

“Anything you want,” Mike told her. “I can go if you—”

“No,” she cut him off. “Stay.”

Mike knew she was mostly afraid of Jimmy and his friends, but he’d take it.

“What did you eat?” he asked.

She didn’t expect the question. “Oh, I had a sandwich… Have you eaten? I could make you something.”

Guilt had his heart clenching in his chest. Still taking care of him even with the situation they’d maneuvered her into. Mike shook his head.

“Let’s get takeout,” he offered. “Have it delivered. Anything you have a craving for?”

Mike didn’t miss the way her gaze moved quickly over him. Oh, there was interest there.

After a moment, she shrugged. “I like most everything,” she said finally.

Easy enough. Mike pulled up the app for an Italian restaurant he liked and delivered late on his phone, placing an order. When he caught her climbing off the bed out of the corner of his eye, he stopped her.

“Where you going?”

“I should at least put jeans on or…”

Mike threw her a grin. “Why? Relax.”

Submitting the order, he considered that. Sitting up, he pulled down the black suspenders he wore, pulled off his tie. When he stripped off the dress shirt, he didn’t miss the way her gaze roamed over him.

She liked that, huh?

In less than an hour, they enjoyed dinner in Andy’s dining room. Him in his suspenders and slacks, her in those cute little shorts. Mike made them drinks. Watching her relaxed and enjoying her meal had him smiling.

That’s better.

They put up the leftovers, piled the dishes in the sink.

‘What are we watching?” he asked with a wink as he herded her towards the stairs.

Mike got an eye full of those curvy legs, her nice ass as he followed her up.

“There’s a crime series I wanted to watch,” she admitted as they reached Andy’s room.

“Crime series,” he mused.

“Right,” she laughed nervously. “Too close to the day job?”

“I can tell you every time they’re full of shit.”

“Pass,” she said, slinging him a shy smile over her shoulder. “A movie?”

“Whatever you want.”

Mike climbed up on the bed with her. Grabbing the remote, she stretched out on her side facing the TV, scrolling through every single streaming service that Andy seemed to have. Once she found a movie she wanted to watch, a superhero movie no less, he grinned.

His little angel could watch whatever she wanted. Playfully, he pushed her onto her stomach, straddling her thighs as he slid his hands under her t-shirt, his fingers finding her muscles tense. He grinned as he got to work on that, watched her fold her arms to cradle her head..

She hummed contentedly under his hands. Her skin was warm velvet under his fingers, the tension eased from her as he worked.

“That’s it,” Mike whispered. “Relax. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Her eyes were closed, hiding some of her emotion from him.

“You… you don’t owe me that,” she muttered.

“Hey,” he stopped to get her attention. “For my part, I’m not upset at all about the money. I told Andy you didn’t know the real reason Jimmy wanted it. I was right.”

His hands began moving again, sliding to her lower back.

“Guys like Jimmy are a dime a dozen,” Mike went on. “I’m just grateful this happened before the loser really did do something to hurt you.”

Her eyes opened, she was watching him in her peripheral vision.

“What?” He could tell she wanted to ask him something.

“You said you’d bought from him,” she said carefully. “So you…”

“Used to be a user?” Mike wasn’t going to hide it. “Yeah. I’m mostly clean these days. Haven’t really bought anything off the street for a few months now.”

She nodded, her eyes closing again as he continued the massage.

“Mike?”

“Hmmm?”

“Why… I mean, you and Andy…”

Mike expected the question she was trying to ask.

“Andy told you that first night,” he explained. “We didn’t talk about it when we first hired you but… Probably shouldn’t have hired you since both found you very attractive.”

She froze at that.

Mike moved his hands down to the globes of her ass. The silky shorts weren’t really much of a barrier.

“But I was recently divorced at the time and trying to get clean so…”

She took a deep breath as he moved down her body, allowing him to get his hands on the backs of her thighs. Her skin was supple, smooth.

“You would have…”

“Asked you out?” Mike grinned. “Yeah. Dating an employee is usually not advisable but since when do I ever worry about things that aren’t precisely spelled out by the law?”

She chuckled. “Never.”

Mike worked on her thighs, letting his fingers roam over that sensitive flesh. He could feel the damp heat near her center. But he didn’t want to jump right in. She’d gotten quiet.

“But now I’m just…”

“You’re just what?” Mike stopped to ask. “It’s a private agreement. We all get something out of it. You get our protection from Jimmy. We get you. But that doesn’t make you any less than the woman we… I want.”

I won’t let Andy keep you.

Gripping the hem of her t-shirt, he pulled it up and off her. Grinning as she shivered beneath him. She wouldn’t be cold for long.

Mike’s hands smoothed over her back, down her sides. She shivered again for a different reason. Sliding his hands under her, he palmed her breasts. The centers were already hard little buds from his touch. Draping himself over her, he teased her ear with his lips.

“Can I have you?” he asked gently. “Right now?”

She rolled her hips, a gentle grind into his aching cock. As an answer, it would suffice.

Mike chained heated kisses over her shoulder, down her back. He took his time, loving the way her fingers dug into the duvet, the restless little shifts of her body under his. When he reached those barely-there shorts, he lifted only long enough to yank those and her panties off.

His gaze met hers when she glanced at him over her shoulder, just in time to watch him grab a pillow from the top of the bed and stuff it under her hips. Her mouth formed a little “o” as he pushed her thighs apart, wrapped his arms around them. It just made him harder for her.

Mike loved the way she struggled in his grip as he took her apart with his mouth. He teased her lower lips, her weeping entrance, not even going where she desperately needed him yet. The tension in her thighs, the grind of her hips against his mouth had his libido growing fangs. His little angel was tangy as summer lemonade and Mike took his time, had her singing before he even got to her clit.

By the time he was drawing on that pearl with the tip of his tongue, she came for him. Cried out for him. She was a responsive little thing and what man didn’t appreciate that? Mike kept her there, worrying that little button with his mouth and enjoying the way her entire body lit up. Once. Twice.

His name was whimper when he brought her off a third time, left her panting. Taking his suspenders down, Mike undid his slacks and took himself in hand. He was so hard it hurt. Pressing inside her, he had to close his eyes, to breathe through it. She felt so fucking good. So tight and soft around him.

She had him fighting like hell not to come.

Once he’d worked his way in as far as he could go, Mike eased himself over her, caging her to the bed. When he began to move, her sigh was contentment. Hell, her walls were still trembling around him.

“You good?” Mike slid his hands over hers, lacing their fingers.

“Yes,” she whispered, her silken walls clamping around him making him groan, urging him to keep moving.

It was so easy to get lost in the feel of being inside her, being joined with her. She fit against him perfectly, her snug little channel able to take him. But the squeeze? Fuck. It was satisfying. Mike dropped enough of his weight on her to hold her in place as his hips worked, grinding into her over and over.

“You like this?” he whispered hotly in her ear, fucking her gently.

Her fingers squeezed his. “Yes.”

“You feel good?”

“Yes.” It sounded like a plea.

A plea for more? He’d give her more.

Mike held her to Andy’s bed and fucked into her, knowing the minute when the tension began building in her again. When her thighs tightened, Mike shifted, pushing them together and holding them tight with his own. Oh, it had her tight little passage clamping around him like a vice, almost brought him off. But the position made it feel like a deeper plunge into her, gave him the angle he needed to hit the mark that would drive her crazy.

“Oh.” The breathy little sighs she released sped up and her grip on his fingers almost hurt.

She struggled as the pleasure built, and he wanted her to. Mike wouldn’t grant her a reprieve, wouldn’t let up. Not until she came screaming one final time and she did, the sound echoing in the quiet of his partner’s bedroom. The flutter of her walls around him triggered his own release and he thrust into her hard and fast, unloading into her as currents of pleasure coursed through him, shook him like a storm.

Rolling onto his back, Mike struggled to breathe. That had been good. That had been so fucking good.

She was shaking when she lifted up onto her elbows, looking wrecked, looking fucking beautiful.

Wrecked because of him. He did that.

Not Andy.

“Hey.” Mike traced a finger over her lower lip. “Want to get some sleep?”

At her nod, Mike pulled her to him for a kiss. He loved the tender feel of her lips against his, the way she submitted to him. Yeah, Andy made her sign a damn contract and that was probably why she’d do whatever he asked. But he could pretend for now. His heart demanded it.

He helped her climb up the bed, get under the covers. She was blinking like a sleepy owl by the time he climbed off the bed to take off the rest of his clothes.

With a smirk, he plucked the suspenders off his slacks, tossing them under the bed.

Mike climbed in with her, pulling her in to be his little spoon.Fighting off bitter thoughts.

Had she been sleeping Andy’s arms every night? Mike was thinking there would have to be some revisions to this agreement.

But she was sleeping in his arms tonight and that was something he very much wanted. He was pretty sure she was asleep by the time he pressed his face into her hair and just enjoyed getting to hold her.

[et-lesailes]

i’ll help you // part one

pairing: michael weiss (chris evans in puncture, 2011) x reader

themes: drug use, angst, romance

word count: 2k

summary: you work as an intern in mike’s law firm, and despite his chaotic lifestyle consisting of a rather severe drug addiction and dependence on sex to feel less lonely, you fell for him since the day you met him. now that he’s shown up at your doorstep one night, it almost seems like a dream come true, but you know you have to go about this carefully. you desperately want to be his, but can you do that knowing that for him, his other addictions may always come first?

note: this will most likely only have two parts for the time being! let me know if you’d like to be tagged in part deux! ;)

A light sigh escaped your lips as you arose from the couch, rubbing your eyes as you glanced at the time on your phone. 9:23 PM? “Jesus,” you muttered under your breath, wondering when the hell you had gotten so old to be this tired at such an early hour. Then again, being an intern at Weiss & Danziger could get quite exhausting, especially with a boss like Michael Weiss. You would never dream of quitting, however-- it had been your dream since you were in high school to become a lawyer, and this internship was perfect for gaining necessary experience for law school now that you had just graduated from college. 

That, and you may have had a slight crush on one of your coworkers. That was, Michael Weiss, to be exact.

You hated yourself for it. Not even because he was your boss, no-- that, you could get past. It was his lifestyle that had you wondering why you couldn’t snap yourself out of these feelings-- a cocky lawyer who lacked responsibility more often than not due to having an incessant drug problem? Yes, that was definitely someone you wanted to take back home to your parents one day. However, you also knew that issues like his did not simply start from nowhere. As much as you wanted to frown upon the choices Mike made, you had realized early on that these choices came from a place of hurting. Whether it was internal or due to some outside traumatic experience, you had no idea, and you could not assume. Even as understanding as you were, there were times you would get frustrated with the lawyer. Some days he was late to meetings with clients, some days he did not show up at all. There were occasions where his phone would be turned off for days, and you remembered when you had shown up to his own house to pass on important files on one of these days, you were greeted at the door by a half naked woman with bloodshot eyes and a blunt in her hand. 

But then there were the days you saw him sitting at his desk, his incredibly messy desk at the law firm, intense blue eyes studying papers before him while simultaneously speaking on the phone with whomever he could find to dig more information out of. There were days you even saw him in court, dressed up in a suit and speaking confidently to the judge, his passion and intelligence practically shining through each and every one of his mannerisms--

-- despite the fact that you also knew he had snorted a few lines mere hours before, if not even sooner. 

How he was able to perform so well while being so high, you had no idea, but it was not exactly something you wanted to feel impressed by.

Trying to forget about it, you yawned as you stepped over to the TV, ready to turn it off and head for bed when you heard the doorbell of your apartment ring. You blinked and glanced down at the somewhat skimpy black nightie you were wearing; you supposed it was probably just your neighbor, since she tended to come over some nights to hang out and chat for a little bit because you were close in age, and so you came over to the door and opened it. “Ava I’m too ti-” you started to decline already, but immediately froze when you saw the male standing there, wearing his signature button-down shirt and suspenders look. “Mike…?” you finally addressed, looking at him confused before realizing what you were wearing, quickly clearing your throat and turning around to find your oversized hoodie you had lazily tossed onto the couch earlier. “Wh-what are you doing here?” 

He let himself in, blue hues scanning your body briefly but shamelessly before raising an eyebrow as he closed the door behind him. “I didn’t see you today.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled the sweatshirt on, turning around to look at him arching your own brow. “You didn’t come in today.” Frowning slightly, you noticed the hint of white under his nostril, resisting the urge to roll your eyes again. Going over to the dining table and taking a napkin, you came back and handed it to him, looking entirely unamused. “For the blow you left under your nose.” You spoke bluntly-- yes, he was your boss, but for some reason, you had always had a more comfortably outspoken relationship with him. Perhaps because he was so direct and straightforward himself-- he never seemed to be fazed by your more sassy side, anyways.

He took it and wiped at it as he kept his eyes on you, clearly not embarrassed or ashamed in the least. “Did you drive here?” you asked him, sighing before even waiting for an answer-- of course he must have, you swore this man had no appreciation for his own life sometimes. “Just-- you can sleep here, alright? On the couch. But I’m going to bed.”

As you turned around, you felt a hand grab your wrist, making you widen your eyes slightly. “No.” He stated, his eyes now on your back oddly troubled yet insistent at the same time. “I’m sleeping with you. In your bed. I want to be next to you.” He nonchalantly walked past you, but briefly tugged on the sleeve of your hoodie as he did so, adding, “And take this shit off.”

You watched incredulously as he opened the few doors of your apartment before finding your bedroom, only looking on in even more disbelief as he let himself inside as if he had lived there his entire life. “Mike!” you hissed, following after him hoping the blush on your cheeks after his last demand wasn’t showing. “How high are you? You can’t just….” you trailed off, watching as he now started undressing himself, still looking rather confidently nonchalant with his decision. He glanced over at you, noticing you staring but simply nodded towards your hoodie expectantly. “Off. Now. It’s hot as fuck, and considering what you opened the door in, I don’t think you wear that shit to bed.” 

“I-it’s fine, I get cold at night so--” you started to reply, now practically feeling the heat on your Ycheeks as you wondered why you were even starting to comply to this conversation let alone his determination to sleep over, when he suddenly came over to you himself in nothing but his suspenders and pants, grabbing the hoodie and lifting it off your head.  “Then I’ll fuckin’ warm you up, don’t worry about it.” He replied as you could only stare at him with your mouth open, your eyes taking in his perfect abs as his eyes once again scanned your body up and down, before he simply turned back around and continued to strip until he was left in just his boxer briefs. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he spoke, even though his back was turned to you, “I usually sleep in the nude so I’d say I’m being pretty damn conservative here.” He glanced towards you and the corner of his lips barely tugged upwards, some sense of emotion finally displayed on his handsome features for the first time before he invited himself right into your bed, pulling back the blankets and settling in underneath. You still stared at him in shock as he lay on his back and closed his eyes, standing there for a few seconds until his deep voice sounded, “Well? Turn off the lights and get in here already. I didn’t come here for just the bed, I have one of these at my house, too, you know.”

You found yourself immediately obeying for a reason you still were completely unsure of, deciding to blame it on your brain rather than yourself. Those were two separate entities, right…? Getting into the bed carefully after turning the lights off, you stuck to your side, inhaling deeply. “Okay, fine, you can stay here, just-- I’m sleeping now, okay? I’m tired.” You were expecting him to argue, but to your surprise, there was complete silence. You tried to glance up at him discreetly, even though you knew the darkness in the room would protect you for now, and you could barely make out by the shape of his long eyelashes that his eyes were still closed. 

Were you feeling… disappointed?

You quickly turned around to face the wall and shut your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart. ‘It’s fine, just go to sleep. He’s only here because he’s high, he’ll probably be gone before you even wake up.’ You thought to yourself, but there was no denying such a prospect felt rather depressing than reassuring.

And then the silence was interrupted, a husky voice suddenly speaking. “You know,” he began, your eyes immediately opening as you kept an unnecessarily intense focus on the wall, biting on your lower lip. “It’s really fucking annoying working with you.” You blinked but tried to hold back the feelings of hurt, knowing the world of law could get much more intense than this-- you needed to learn how to be more steady and indifferent than sensitive. And so you barely cleared your throat, still looking to the wall as you replied as maturely as you could, “Annoying..? Why? What do I do?”

“You distract me. Even when I’m sitting in my goddamn office with the door shut, the door locked--  I’m just fucking thinking about you.” You swore you forgot to breathe upon hearing this, your heart pounding even faster once you remembered soon after that breathing was, in fact, important. You turned somewhat cautious, on your back now to look up at him, your eyes slightly more adjusted to the dark now and seeing that he appeared to be looking up at the ceiling. You wanted more than anything to ask him more, to find out if your own feelings were requited, and you even contemplated doing so. 

But you held your tongue, knowing that was too dangerous of a path to go down. “Then one of us can work from home.” You replied bluntly instead, turning back to face the wall, hoping your voice sounded steadier than your heart rate. However, you soon felt a shifting in the bed followed by a toned arm wrap around your body, pulling you back. You were now face-to-face with the man, his eyes piercing into yours, the blue somehow radioactive in the darkness that surrounded you. “I don’t want that. I want to see you everyday. Fuck, I want to have you.” There was no steadying your heartbeat now, the mere words making you feel a strange sense of delight and uncertainty at the same time-- but you barely had time to process these feelings before his lips were suddenly pressed against yours, his kiss naturally rough and filled with passion you weren’t even sure that could be possible to fake. You kissed him back, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace, to feel his tongue make its entrance into your wet cavern to wrap around your own, to let his teeth barely tug on your lower lip, his large hands slide down your back--

-- and then reality came crashing down into the euphoria of it all, immediately making you pull away. 

“Mike,” you whispered, looking up into his eyes somewhat sadly, “I can’t.” 

He blinked, his hands pausing, clearly annoyed and confused as he looked down at you. “Why the fuck not?” 

You sat up and ran your hand through your hair, looking away frustrated. “Because I fucking love you, okay? I- I’ve had feelings for you ever since I started working at the firm, and it just- god, it just fucking kills seeing the shit you do everyday. You realize there are days I don���t even know if you’re alive, right? Any time your phone is off for more than a few hours, I’m worried that you could be lying dead in a fucking ditch somewhere. And then I find that you’re just in bed with some drugged out whore who only uses you for drug money and it’s just--” you sighed, pausing for a few moments realizing you were practically running out of breath, looking away as you forced yourself to hold back the tears threatening to spill before continuing, “-- it’s just fucking exhausting.”

Quite honestly, you half expected him to have fallen asleep in the middle of your rant, but as you looked back towards him, you saw that he was sitting up himself, staring down at you somewhat surprised. “Then why do you still have feelings for me?” he asked lowly, a hint of curiosity in his deep blue hues, something you would probably stare at if you weren’t so incredulous over his ignorant question. “Are you serious, Mike? It’s not like I can just control this, otherwise I’d have chosen to, I don’t know, have feelings for someone who’s not a fucking crackhead.”

Were you too harsh? You regretted saying it the instant it came out, wondering if he’d explode-- but instead, he leaned closer, only looking at you with more intrigue. “What do you see in me, then?” he was practically murmuring now, and you bit your lip, figuring you might as well continue the honesty considering you had already boarded the entire goddamn train of it. “I see someone who’s passionate. More intelligent than anyone I’ve ever met before. Someone who wants to help people, not for his own personal gain or satisfaction, but because he cares.” You whispered back, looking up at him wishing you knew what he was thinking in that exact moment. He seemed to be listening intently, his eyes focused on yours yet distant at the same time as he pondered this over, before his teeth found his own lower lip. “What if I told you I’m only who I am because I’m never sober? That I only succeed in this line of work because of the drugs?” You blinked, finding the question quite preposterous, but now realizing that his damaged mind must have truly thought this. 

Your heart hurt for him, and you realized you could not be angry anymore. 

“Then you’re in the wrong line of work, Mike,” you spoke softly, slowly reaching up to caress the side of his face, biting your lip as you looked up into his eyes. “But I know you’re not. I know you’re so much more than what all the coke makes you think you are, okay? Just-- I…” you trailed off before slowly continuing, “...I can prove it to you if you would let me help you…”

He looked down at you, his expression significantly softer now; it was the first time you saw even a hint of vulnerability in his features, and it was turning your brain into a pile of mush. “I want you to help me,” he muttered lowly as if in a trance, his hand now tilting your chin upwards to keep the eye contact. “Just you, baby. Please.” 

You had to pause to wonder if he was only saying this to play with your emotions; after all, he was in the perfect position to, and it was not something you could rule out considering that he was a lawyer at heart, meaning he knew exactly how to talk. Still, as you studied his facial expression, you could see the pain in those azure orbs-- he was taking as much of a risk here as you were, and you were beginning to realize that even if he were to hurt you in the end, you’d sacrifice your heart to make him feel at least a little bit better about himself and his passion.

“I’ll help you, Mike.” You spoke softly, letting your fingers run through his hair, fully accepting the risk that it could practically kill you in the end, but this was what your intuition was telling you to do. “You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

He slowly pulled you down with him to lay on the bed together, his strong arms wrapping around you. You felt his lips kiss the top of your head before his own simply rested on it, your face nuzzled comfortably into his bare chest. The more wary part of you couldn’t help but wonder if all of this was set up to simply make another move on you, but you soon realized his breathing becoming much more even, his body slowly settling into a content slumber. 

You were not disappointed anymore. Instead, a soft smile crossed your lips as your own heartbeat finally calmed down, exhaling deeply as you let yourself fall asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

[onsunnyside]

𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝗘𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘀 & 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 ➺ 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙀𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙘. 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨

Characters: “Me" - Jake Wyler - Harvard Hottie (Hayden) - Bryce Langley - Mike Weiss

╭ Read the warnings. Some are dark/have dark elements, contain A/B/O, contain explicit sexual content etc. ╯

✎ = New fics added! - #Galore Update

✧˖*°࿐

"Me" - Playing It Cool:

@fineanddandy -

I Think…I Might…

[Back Rooms] [Fifteen Minutes] - punk!Me x black!reader

Jake Wyler - Not Another Teen Movie:

@mypoisonedvine -

dumbification kink with jake wyler

[peaches & cream] [continuation] - soft!dark!jake

@starryevermore - forbidden fruit - stepdad!jake

@strawbeariefaerie - button eyed. - other!jake wyler x black//woc reader, caroline crossover

Harvard Hottie (Hayden) - The Nanny Diaries:

@evansweaters - bookends. - black!reader, college au, fluff

@rodrikstark - gentlemen of harvard

@strawbeariefaerie - museum melodrama - black//woc fem!reader, fluff

Bryce Langley - Fierce People:

Paul Diskant - Street Kings:

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork - First Day

Mike Weiss - Puncture: