#and yet I had to find line of sight on this asshole | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mae-gi-writes · 12 days

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Arch-nemesis . Gally (themazerunner)

There's a thin line between love and hate, especially when it concerns Gally.

A/N: I've re-watched the three Maze Runner movies and now I'm obsessed and getting back onto the TMR fantrain so bear with me and the future fics I've already got saved in my drafts TT 3 TT ------

You hate him with all your heart.

Truthfully, honestly. There isn’t anyone you hate more than this stupid asshole that thinks that he’s the centre of the earth.

You met him only when he’d been brought in by Lawrence and a few of his other guys, having been there just for a few weeks prior. Thinking that this might be your chance to make a new friend, you’d sidled over to him with a small smile as you asked for his name. That didn’t go as smoothly as you thought when he just grunted out his name in response and turned away from you like you were a pest instead.

But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he says your name in that really aggravating tone that grates at your nerves. It’s the way he always insists it’s your fault when you’re out on missions and come back with no updates. It’s the way he bullies you and calls you names whenever your paths cross and it makes you want to gouge his eyes out. It’s enough to say that you know Gally now and you know exactly what he’s made of. That, and the fact that you’d stay far away from him as you possibly could if that was an option.

“You’re loading it up wrong shank-face,” he’d tell you as you were re-filling your gun.

“Shut up Gally, I’m doing it properly.”

“Don’t come crying to me when the gun doesn’t work.”

“It’s none of your business if it doesn’t work.”

“It is my business if you’re gonna—“

“Right that’s enough,” your mentor and leader called Jared had to step in, like he did numerous times, to get you to cool off. You’d storm away in a fit of annoyance and irritation, hating how easily Gally got under your skin.

It’s been a few weeks since weird sightings of stray immunes have circulated the area and in reply to this, Lawrence had set you up for a mission with Gally to scout the outer walls of the Last City. That had only caused you to grumble about the unfairness of the situation.

“Why do I have to go?” Your eyes narrow at the familiar tall figure lingering in your peripheral. Gally is busy setting up his weapons as you try to plead your case, seemingly uncaring about your protests, “and with him of all people? We don’t work well together Lawrence—“

“Everyone else is taken or busy with other tasks. Meaning that only you two are free,” Lawrence cuts you off without a hint of sympathy, “so either you do as you’re told or you can leave Y/N. As simple as that.”

In the end you have no choice but to abide by his rules, strapping up your weapons and defenses before Gally calls out your name. You turn just in time to catch the water bottle he sends your way, yelping in the process.

“You’re looking a little distraught, shank-face,” he smirks at you from where he stands loading up the provisions, “scared of what you’ll find out there? If you ain’t good enough, just don’t come and waste people’s time.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion, ugly brows.”

“I’m just worried you might slow me down. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”

“I didn’t ask for one, now will you shut up and stop talking?”

“I’m surprised these two haven’t killed each other off yet,” murmurs one of Lawrence’s men.

“Killed or kissed you mean,” Jared lets out a chuckle.

These words are enough to cause the others to look at him with shocked faces, “what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?” Jared motions towards the two currently bickering, “bet that by tomorrow night these two will get together.”

“I bet they last a week before they kiss.” Another says.

“Oh come on, I’m betting two weeks. Gally isn’t that type of guy.”

“What about me?” Gally’s voice causes them all to shut up, looking at him with guilty smiles and with shakes of their heads.

“Nothing to worry about Maze boy,” Jared flicks him off with a wave of his hand, “now off you go, both of you. And I expect some good news when you return.”

“Of any kind,” someone adds quietly, to which they all cackle.

You’ve toured the city a million times before in search of any kind of entrances that might lead to the inside, where all of Wicked laid. So it’s nothing out of your depth to follow Gally around as you survey the area and scout for more sources of information.

In all honesty, touring with Gally isn’t that much different from anyone else. On the contrary, Gally’s determined nature conjoined with his natural physical ability to excel just renders him an even more ideal battle partner. Not that you’ll ever tell him that. It will surely come bite you in the ass later when you least expect it.

You’re almost at the perimeter when you notice something off about one of the citizens. It’s a little girl, her face contorted in a grimace as she holds her hands in front of her tummy. For a moment, she sways in the middle of the crowd and you’re about to dismiss it, when another figure stalks in and takes a swipe at her with a stick.

The girl yelps as the stick hits her knees, crumbling to the floor like a sack of bones.

Before you know it, you’re sprinting towards her, anger flaring through your chest as your hands steady themselves on the gun. You barely hear Gally’s voice as you stumble in front of the kid just in time to point your weapon at the older man.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hiss at him.

The man’s eyes widen. He takes a step back, “no no, get away from her, you don’t understand—“

“Understand what? That you were going to beat her to death?” You click your gun into place, “nice try old man, now tell me—“

“Get away from her!” He yells at you, “she’s not normal! She’s—“

And a growl erupts from behind you. You swivel around in panic, eyes going wide upon noticing for the first time the dark patch close to her eyes.

The Flare.

The girl twitches. A small sob falls from her mouth. Your heart jumps to your throat, stumbling back half a step as weird animalistic noises echo from her mouth.

And then, she pounces.

You yell out something— you’re not too sure what — and are about to knock her on the head as she throws herself at you—

A bullet explodes on the right side of her brain and she falls to the ground like a puppet.

You stare at her for a minute. One more.

Your gaze slowly trails up to see familiar booted feet.

“What were you even thinking?”

Gally’s voice is usually deep. But this time, even you can’t stand up to the anger simmering in his voice. It’s dark and holds some kind of laced savagery that makes your toes curl in apprehension.

He takes your silence as guilt before grabbing onto your arm and roughly pulling you out of the crowd. He doesn’t stop and for once you don’t fight him, still not over the shock of seeing that poor girl’s face, the crazed look in her eyes. You’re so deep in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’re at your truck until Gally practically throws you against its side.

Your back digs into the metal and you grunt at the impact, the ache stinging your spine. But before you can do anything else, huge palms come to a rest on either side of your head.

Gally leans into you, so close that you can feel the heat radiate off him in waves.

“What the fuck was that about?” He growls, voice dropping even lower.

Somehow, it causes a shiver to run up your spine. Not one of fear, something else. Something that makes your stomach squeeze into knots.

“I—“ for once, you don’t seem to have any words. Instead your head turns away from Gally’s eyes as you bite down onto your lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He scoffs, laughs to himself before his gaze hardens once more, “sorry for what Y/N? For almost getting yourself killed? Are you insane?! She could’ve literally infected you and you—“

“I didn’t know she was infected.” You tried to protest.

That seems to aggravate him even more, “You didn’t even bother to check!” His nostrils flare.

“Well I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it if you turn into one of those Cranks you stupid slinthead! You need to be more responsible! I literally turn away for one minute and you’re—“

“Oh stop exaggerating Gally. I was trying to protect her—“

“Yeah and look how that ended!”

You snap, “why are you so pissed? It was an accident and I already said sorry!”

“It’s not just that Y/N!” He yells with such emotion that his face flushes red, “What if I wasn’t there? What would you have done then?!”

“Why the fuck do you care? You wanted me gone—“

Your words cut off in mid-conversation when his large hands suddenly cup your face before pulling you in to crash his lips against yours.

Your eyes widen, brain freezing, as butterflies erupt through your stomach.

Wow.

Is this what a kiss is?

And this is Gally, kissing you like he means it.

It's almost like time has stopped.

Heart pounding, your body slowly melts against his. You’re in a trance-like state, watching yourself crumble under his fingertips that he places right under your jaw, his other hand sliding down to your hip to pin you in place.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle yet firm. His mouth moves slowly, hesitantly, almost like he fears breaking you. And yet, when you respond with a soft movement of your own, the rumble of his chest has your stomach squeezing with adrenaline.

You’re not too sure what’s happening. Here you are, with the world’s biggest dick, kissing him like he’s your lover when all you’ve ever wanted was to kick him in the face for being a class A asshole.

But it’s weird because this, however, feels so right. Like you’re meant to be locking lips, like he doesn’t want anyone else in his arms but you. And when he cages you in his hold with even more intensity it makes you gasp, causing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with an ease that has you parting like melted butter.

Slowly, your hands trail up to his chest, grabbing hold of his dark tunic and tugging slightly as his teeth suckle onto your bottom lip. A noise echoes from the back of your throat and he growls in response, pressing you even harder so that your head tilts back against the truck’s surface.

You need air at some point and so break away from him with a small gasp, chest heaving.

Gally doesn’t hesitate. He dives down to press a kiss to the side of your jaw, down your neck, imprinting his mouth over your skin over and over again in a way that has your body shuddering with delight. Big hand sliding down to the back of your neck to pull you even closer into him, the young man’s lips find a soft spot at your pulse point, causing a whine to fall from your lips at his action.

His chest rumbles in satisfaction and before you know it he’s back to kissing you. This time it’s more heated; mouths clashing and teeth clicking and tongues battling.

And then, the reality of the situation hits you straight in the face.

You freeze. What in the shucking world are you even doing?

You’re making out with Gally, right beside your truck. In broad daylight.

The thought alone makes your hands push him away and your lips disconnect with a small ‘pop’ sound.

You’re gasping for breath at this point, eyes wide as they flutter up to lock onto his own and you’re surprised at what you find there.

There’s some sort of softness, genuine care and something more, something darker that you can’t really put your finger on.

It makes you want him.

You want him.

Shuck’s sake.

“Y/N—“ Gally starts but you’re already moving out of his hold, slipping away from his warmth and suddenly it feels a little too cold.

You shake your head at him, decide it’s best to keep your eyes away as you open the door to the passenger seat, “let’s go. We have a mission to finish.”

You don’t want to talk about it.

————

It’s been days.

Days since the incident.

Days since you’ve been trying to get Gally out of your head.

You don’t understand why he’s having such an effect on you. Theoretically speaking, you should’ve bashed his head in and turned him over to Lawrence for sexual assault.

But you haven’t, and he’s also probably questioning why.

As a result, you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him. You wake up thirty minutes earlier to eat your breakfast so that you don’t have to bump into him at the table, you take the first errands that come to you — the boring ones like refilling tanks and getting the food supplies and guarding their premises. All that so that you don’t have to deal with Gally’s bullying.

Well, not that you’ve heard from him much either.

“What happened between you two?” Jared asks one evening as you help him move the supplies fresh from the last raid from the Last City.

“What?” You stare at him blankly, “what are you talking about?”

“You and Gally. You had a fight or something?”

“When are we not?” You snort, though you can’t deny the flush creeping up your neck as the memory of Gally’s body against yours resurfaces.

“Well I know you fight, but you’ve been ignoring each other.”

“And? Why is that a concern? Shouldn’t you be glad there’s less noise?”

“You’ve got a point I suppose.”

You don’t tell him it’s because you’re nervous of all the things that keep flashing through your head. You don’t tell him about how you keep on thinking of Gally’s mouth on yours, the lingering taste of him like a ghost along your lips. You don’t have to and you don’t want to, because you know that it’s going to entertain an idea far too surreal and ridiculous for you to think about.

It isn’t until a few days after your little mishap that Gally finds you in the storage room. You’ve woken up early to help the newest recruit unpack the food supplies just loaded into the main building dock, only to find out that he had this massive crush on you.

So you’ve been trying to bat him off all morning despite his most desperate attempts.

“Just give me a chance Y/N,” he says as he takes a box from your hands with a wink, “I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

You snort, “no thanks,” and turn back to keep unloading.

But he makes a grab for your hand. You yelp, pulling it out of his grasp, “what do you think you’re doing—“

“You think you’re so tough huh?” He makes another grab for your forearm this time and cages you into his grip. You try to wriggle out to no avail, his fingers squeezing so hard that you let out a cry of pain, “ow—“let me go, asshole.”

“Not until you agree.”

Your glare deepens, “I said no.”

He pulls you closer, stinky breath washing over your face and making you want to barf, “did I tell you how sexy you are when you try to act all tough and shit? I mean that’s literally—“

“Get your hands off her.”

He freezes. You do too. You recognize that voice. You could've recognized that anywhere. Your head tilts over.

Gally.

Oh.

Eyes widening at the sight, you quickly pull your arm away when the newbie drops it in shock.

“Move away,” Gally’s voice drops an octave and causes a string of butterflies to erupt through your chest, “now.”

The newbie frowns, “Who’re you to boss me around?”

“I said: Now.”

And maybe it’s the fact that Gally seems to straighten when he says it so it looks like he’s towering over the other boy, but the latter mutters a curse word under his breath and finally relents, throwing you a scowl in the process as he ducks out of the storage room.

You can’t help but lock eyes with your savior, though quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment as you resume stacking boxes after boxes. You hope that he’s just going to turn around and act ignorant, just like these past few days.

“Y/N.”

You don’t answer, resolutely trying your best to act busy.

“Y/N.”

Maybe it’s the way he says your name that makes you turn impulsively. Your eyes flit to his face, then look back down to his chest. A safer bet, “what?”

He takes a step closer, and another, and another. You swallow thickly, feeling your throat clog up with emotion as you stumble back against the boxes until no escape seems available.

Why is it that you’re always getting trapped by him?

“W—What is it?” You stammer out in hopes he can’t hear how wild your heart is beating, "What do you want?"

He lets out a soft sigh and seems to drop his shoulders in defeat, opening up his palms in a sign of defeat, "I just--I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Y/N--"

"No Gally," you whip around then with eyes narrowed into slits and your fists curled beside you, "if this is about what happened in the Last City, I don't want to talk about it. It was a stupid shucking mistake and--"

"Stop using Glader slang," he interrupts like a smart-ass and you all but growl at him in irritation, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh shut up already," you whip around and decide that it's useless to try and have a civil conversation. You'd rather focus your energy on finishing off your task.

But seems that he's determined to bug you, for you feel the warmth of his hand imprint itself on your forearm before he's tugging you. Not too harshly, gently enough that you could've stopped if you wanted to.

You let yourself turn around, cursing inwardly at how the closeness between your two bodies is rendering you a little breathless, a little weak in the knees. He's so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him, and what you see in his gaze makes your heart skitter.

"It wasn't," he murmurs, "a mistake."

"It was a mistake," you shoot back straightaway, "we can just forget about it--"

"I don't want to. I--" he clears his throat, looks away for a second. And when his eyes find yours once again you feel your breath catch in your throat because he's looking at you in a certain way. That way. With the same kind of tenderness that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest and smell the earthly, Gally scent that had wrapped around you back when you'd kissed--

No.

You almost smack yourself, horrified. What in the world are you thinking?!

"I like you, Y/N." Gally’s voice jerks you back to reality, “I like you a shuck lot and—“

“Don’t,” you press a finger to his lips as you try desperately to put some distance between, shaking your head in horror, “no no, you don’t like me. You like me ‘cause I’m the only girl around here and it’s just your hormones talking—“

He shakes you off, “what are you on about?” He frowns before grabbing both your hands to cage them in his grip, “I know what I feel Y/N. Don’t tell me otherwise—“

“Gally please,” you scramble for coherent thought but logic is slipping away by the second. Even more so when he’s tugging you gently to him, even more when his face is a picture of softness and affection, “we hate each other’s guts—“

“I never said that.” He pauses to read your expression, fear suddenly flickering in his expression, “do you hate me?”

“I—“ the words get tangled in your mouth. You want to tell him you hate him, loathe him with all your heart and that you just want him gone and that you hates his kiss.

But you can’t.

Because it’s a lie, the truth is that you think your heart beats for him. You’re not sure since when, but that kiss had confirmed it surely enough: you like Gally more than you think you do. And that thought is terrifying.

You’re so close to him that if you let your hands drop they’ll brush against his chest, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your skin and the heat of his jody permeating to yours.

Ducking your head in embarrassment, you bite down onto your lower lip.

“Answer my question, Y/N.”

You swallow thickly, “I—I don’t know.”

Gally looks down at you still, not giving you the easy way out you would’ve preferred and you find yourself crumbling under his stare.

“No,” you whisper, “I don’t hate you.”

He shifts a little closer still, eyes flitting down to your lips in a silent question.

Your breath catches. Your mouth parts. His scent wraps around you like a soft cocoon.

And then you’re lifting yourself up to kiss him.

He makes a noise of surprise at the back of his throat and you grin to yourself, loving that you caught him off guard. But that doesn’t last, for his big hands quickly drop yours to wrap around your waist before pulling your body to his and kissing you like he hasn’t seen you in ages, like he’s missed you, like he wants to do this forever.

Gally, you soon realize, kisses with his entire intention, not leaving one part of your mouth untouched and adamant on making you go pliant in his hold. You allow yourself to back up as he prods you, until your back hits one of the storage boxes hazardly stacked one atop the other, and Gally doesn't hesitate to press his chest against yours as a soft moan echoes from the back of his throat.

As his lips curve against yours in the most intimate of manners, your hands seem to take on a life of their own as they travel up his chest, caress the broadness of his shoulders, before wrapping around the back of his neck and teasing the soft baby hairs found there. You feel him grinning into your mouth and soon enough you're grinning too, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath.

"Not bad at all," Gally murmurs, stealing a kiss from you and causing your face to flush deep red, "for someone who can't load a gun properly."

"I can too load my gun properly," you pinch him playfully and he responds with laughter.

That's when you hear your mentor's voice booming with surprise from the front entrance of the storage room:

"Well look what we have here! I told you guys they wouldn't last a week!"

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fcthots · 7 months

Note

I'm literally tearing up this morning at the idea of Tim sitting in the cave, trying to get some important work done like usual when suddenly a wave of darkness ascends upon the cave. Like something out of a horror movie, dread washes over Tim as he fearfully creaks his head around to see Gus sitting on the chair, looking over Tim's shoulder—MENACINGLY.

I had so much fun writing this.

It was 5 am and everyone else had gone to bed. There was a fear gas attack and while no one had been unable to put on their rebreather, the manor was still on lockdown, though, just to monitor in case of any delayed effects. Tim wasn't supposed to be on the batcomputer but it was important! He was doing research on the new chemicals Scarecrow had added to his toxin and if their addition changed the effects of the formula as compared to the original. As it turns out, he was right. It seemed that now prolonged exposure could cause delayed effects. Fuck, Tim loves being right! He starts recording any other new effects the toxin may have.

A chill hits him. The hairs on the back of his neck raise. He can feel eyes with malicious intent watching him. After being robin for so long, he knows what the stare of a real threat feels like as it watches its prey. Fuck. Someone must have gotten into the cave. He thinks of yelling for Kon, but Kryptonians can't hear into the cave. His family is all asleep in their respective bedrooms, and there's no one that can get to him in time. He hasn't acknowledged their presence yet, so he could pick up his phone and pretend to send a funny text to a friend but actually text the other bats, but that could also backfire if his intruder swooped in while he was vulnerable.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Maybe his rebreather was cracked. Maybe this is all just delayed fear gas effects. Maybe one of his siblings hadn't handed all of their gear off to be washed and he's just getting a mini whiff of the gas, and that's why he feels the eyes of a predator on his back.

He hears something rustle.

Ok, so not a hallucination, probably. Auditory hallucinations usually take exposure to copious amounts of gas, but maybe this was all part of the new strand.

He could feel them getting closer. He slowly wraps his hand round a battarang that was left on the desk. He can't see anything in the reflection of the screen. On the count of three he has to turn around and face his opponent.

Three. Fuck, he's exhausted.

Two. He's too tired to be doing this.

One. Bruce is gonna kill him if he dies.

Go.

He turns around and stands all in one motion, staying as low to the ground as possible. He doesn't have long to take in all of his surroundings, so he does it quick. This would be so much easier if he had his mask, which can track the heat of body signatures, but he took it off so Alfred could clean it. He really hopes Alfred isn't the one to find his body.

He doesn’t see anything in his immediate line of sight. He keeps his body moving, so he's a harder target. He looks everywhere else. Nothing. Maybe it's an LOA assassin. Ra's needs to get off his dick already.

But he looks even in the spots where a ninja would be trained to hide, and... nothing. Nothing at all. An alarming amount of nothing. By his calculations there was an 85% chance that it wasn't a hallucination. He drops his fighting stance. He did forget to factor in his sleep deprivation...

As soon as his guard is down, he is immediately attacked from behind. He whirls around and drops back into a fighting stance. His training kicks in. Don’t look at the affected area first, look at your attacker first. He ignores the pain in his leg and looks to where they would have to be standing and...nothing. He looks down to his leg.

Fucking Gus.

"Get off of me, asshole!! Why are you even here? Can Jason seriously not sleep without his cat fucking night?" Tim tries to peel Gus's claws out of him where Gus's limbs are wrapped around his leg. "Ow! Fuck! Don't bite me! This is why I don’t pet you. Get. The. Fuck. Off. Of. Me."

He finally tosses Gus off his leg and Gus runs away impressively fast for a cat if his size.

Tim yells out across the batcave, "I never thought I could hate a cat until I met you!"

#saph’s love letters #jason todd #jason todd x reader #saph’s thots #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #39yuki #red hood imagine #red hood x you #jason todd crack #gus the cat #jason todd x reader crack #red hood crack #red hood x reader crack #crack

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sakufilms · 2 years

Text

Time Repeats Itself

MASTERLIST

⌁ the umbrella academy x gn!teen!reader (platonic)

⌁ instead of that horrible room being empty all those years, reginald hargreeves locked you in it. what happens when you’re found by your siblings on the day of reginald’s funeral? // angst, hurt/comfort

⌁ 5.6k words

! : abuse/child abuse, confinement, isolation, the room viktor was locked in in season 1, pre-transition viktor (takes place s1e1/canon compliant), reggie hargreeves

Klaus

Klaus Hargreeves was rather known for his curious nature. The way he was constantly talking, lazily observing at all times. Small observations in his adolescence blossomed into somewhat of a sharp eye in his adult years, which he used for finding money for drugs. Anything to keep the spirits at bay.

His hand dragged along the wall of his childhood home as he scoured the halls, but he only saw it as a prison. The building that took up an entire square block, once constantly surrounded by fans and paparazzi, and now nothing more than any other old boring building on the street. Klaus laughed under his breath. Good riddance. If anyone deserved to fail so horribly it was that asshole of a father, Reginald Hargreeves himself.

Klaus began to whistle a tune lightly; something random and off the top of his head. His eyes flickered over books and knickknacks. Nothing so far looked worth selling. Nothing of enough value. His father was rich for fucks sake, there’s gotta be something good around this damned mansion.

He sighed, and Ben pouted mockingly. “Oh, Dad’s funeral isn’t as exhilarating as you’d hoped?”

Klaus waved him off. “No, no. Funeral hasn’t happened yet. We still have time for fun.” He joked lamely.

The living man and the ghost turned a corner. The hall was quite empty, and Klaus did a 180° dramatically at the sight, groaning into the palms of his hands. Where’s the good stuff?

”Klaus.” Ben sounded . . . shocked? Confused? Curious?

”What do you want, Benerino?” Klaus turned again with a huff. Ben was pointing ahead of him with furrowed brows. Klaus’ eyes flickered to his brothers line of sight, and he tilted his head. There was an elevator at the end of the hallway, standing proud with a menacing feel to it. “Oh, that’s odd.”

”Yeah, no kidding.”

Klaus jumped to the opportunity, skipping down the hall to the mystery elevator. “Think there’s something worth selling in wherever this leads?”

Ben scoffed, following him hastily. “No, Klaus— an elevator that Dad never told us about? It’s probably something more than something worth selling.” Ben’s arms were crossed over his chest as Klaus clicked the button for the elevator.

”Something more? So what you’re saying is I could be rich? Besides, Dad didn’t tell us a lot of things. Also, this house is huge, makes total sense that we missed it.” Klaus hummed to himself.

Klaus made some points, but Ben was hesitant. “No, I’m saying that maybe—“

”Ah! Here we go.” The elevator opened slowly, and Klaus strode in, Ben right behind him. There were two buttons in the elevator, Klaus clicked the bottom one which was labeled ’B’.

”Really, Klaus?”

”Mm-hmm.”

Ben sighed. “You should just be more careful sometimes.”

Klaus nodded, eyes distant. He wasn’t paying attention at all.

The elevator dinged, and Klaus silently cheered, stepping out. His smile fell in an instant. The room was almost completely empty, apart from one thing.

At the end of the room was a large, prison like metal door. There was a small window to see the inside, and he crept forward, careful and slow. Whatever this was, it made him feel uneasy.

He peered through the thick glass, and he could’ve swore his heart stopped beating in his chest. Inside, there was someone young occupying the room. They wore loose, baggy clothing. Nothing much, just the colour of simple grey. They sat on a bed in the centre of the cell, which only had white bedsheets and a white pillow to match. There was a small bedside table to the left of the bed, and on it was just one single book. The room itself was padded spikey walls and dim lights—it was no place for a teenager. And, God, how long have they been in here?

Klaus’ heart clenched because no, no, no. This was too familiar to him. Flashes of being locked in a mausoleum for hours and hours on end poured over him and clouded his vision and he couldn’t hear anything but the beating of his own heart. They can’t be in there, they can’t—

They slowly looked up, made eye contact with Klaus, and with a start they backed up until their back hit the back of the bed frame. They looked confused, but then realization hit them like a freight train, and they sat in place, body tense.

”Oh, my God . . .” Ben broke the heavy silence.

”What do I . . .” Klaus cut himself short. His mind was swarmed with thoughts and emotions, he didn’t know what to do— because what the fuck? He knew his dad was bad, but this is just insane.

You

Mom was always caring; kind. You didn’t mind that she was a robot, she treated you like a parent should. As if she were human and you were made from her blood and cells. A child of her own, though she was made. You knew it was all in her programming, but it filled you with joy nonetheless. She’d bring you new books for your reading time, with all sorts of topics and plots. She’d bring you your snacks and cook you meals, and she’d take care of you. You knew Mom—you liked her.

Pogo always had this hurting look in his eyes when your eyes met his. You never understood it, but it made your senses tingle and you always felt a pull of energy, a headache forming between your eyes. You always knew your powers were trying to reach out and uncover the secret, but you weren’t strong enough. Besides, it wasn’t in your power to read minds. You still sensed something, however. But you knew Pogo too, and you liked him.

You didn’t know many things about family dynamics, and you never had the chance to fully understand social cues as your closest friend had always been silence, but you knew that Reginald treated you how a father shouldn’t. He claimed to care about you, but you saw how in the few times that he’s admitted that, he had a calculating look in his eye. He treated you like an experiment, not his child. You hardly left the padded box. You only left for training, and using the bathroom. All the rooms were in the basement, which according to Mom, it’s not how things used to be at the academy. You knew Dad, you . . . didn’t like him. But his words had stained your bones, he raised you, he took care of you, he was your father. You wouldn’t admit that you didn’t like him.

The man standing in front of you however, you didn’t know at all. His familiarity led you to believe you had seen him in a vision, but you didn’t know him.

Why is he here, why is he here—

The funeral is today.

With that thought in mind, you were frozen in place. All of your siblings who you had never met before would all be coming today—that, you knew. You dreamt about it while in your deepest stage of sleep. It was hazy and cloudy, but you saw it. The thought of them coming home left you excited and overly nervous, but now that one of your siblings was standing in front of you, you were frozen still.

He had a shaggy appearance, yet he didn’t look awful. His clothing style seemed very out there—extravagant, and joyful. It was everything his expression wasn’t. He looked shocked, scared, confused, hurt.

His lips were moving but you couldn’t hear a thing courtesy of the thick metal box you were placed in. The expression he wore looked almost unnatural for a face like his—he had very prominent smile lines, but now his lips were tugged downward and his brows were drawn together.

He began reaching to the large wheel attached to the door. He’s letting me out? Why is he letting me out? Where are we going?

He began twisting the large wheel, face pinching together in frustration. The metal groaned and creaked from the age of the room and the lack of use of the handle. Ever since Reginald’s death, you left the box less often. It hurt you deeply, knowing Pogo and Mom were still roaming the halls. They checked in rather often, but you didn’t leave to train anymore. It pained you to know that Mom and Pogo still lived trapped in Reginald’s power and rules. Even after death had taken him, your father was still hurting you.

The door opened with a hiss, and you clutched the bedsheets so tight your knuckles changed colour. The man—Klaus, you had the sudden knowledge that that was his name—stepped in hesitantly.

”Uhm . . .” It was clear he didn’t know how to approach the situation. You didn’t either, and your mouth remained clamped shut. “Who are you?” He looked unsure if that was the right thing to ask.

Your response was nothing but heavy breaths and tensed up muscles.

He nodded slowly, an emotion akin to sadness flickering in his green eyes. “Well, I’m Klaus.” You were tempted to tell him you already knew that, but you didn’t.

He glanced to his left nervously, opened his mouth to speak, but ended up saying nothing. He turned back to you. “Are you o— why are you in here?”

You know exactly why you’re in here. You heard Reginald talk about it in a flashback—you don’t get them often but when you do they’re immensely painful, sometimes ending with nosebleeds.

You’ve had two about Reginald. The first time you had one, Reginald sat alone in his office. It was a flashback from years ago, just before you were born. His children were growing older, the academy was falling apart. You had the urge to think he looked somber, but no. He looked thoughtful.

He opened a compartment in his office closet, typed in a code, and pulled out something that baffled you. It was glowing, bright as ever. Small orbs floating around in a glass jar. He observed it for a moment, went over to the window, and set the orbs free, floating off into the night.

You didn’t know what that flashback meant, but the next one was painfully clear. You remembered the anger on his face, his quick steps.

‘I don’t think this is a good idea, Sir.’ Pogo had said, distressed.

’No, I will not change my mind. The academy is already falling apart as it is. I need complete control this time. This is the only option.’ Reginald had replied fiercely. That was how you knew that you’d be stuck in the box forever.

Your lips parted to speak, but this was all new to you. The fear that encased you was thicker than the metal surrounding you.

”Okay, okay . . .” Klaus nodded, talking more to himself. “I . . . will be right back. Uh, don’t go anywhere.” He started into a quick walk out the door, stopping to make sure it was all the way open. You frowned as he walked away, confusion settling in your stomach. Why did he leave it open?

You thought about leaving, as the opportunity was given to you.

You didn’t.

With the open door, you could hear things again. There were multiple footsteps coming from above, and you curled further in on yourself. Your siblings were all here.

Footsteps came closer and closer, more than one pair. Not too many, maybe two.

”Klaus, what the hell is this?” A man with a prominent scar on the right side of his head—Diego—said lowly. His eyes were wide, he looked startled. He looked frightened.

”I don’t know, I— I found the elevator, came to see what there was, and . . .” Klaus’ voice broke off. He fiddled with his fingers. Again, he glanced over to the side.

The two stepped into the box, and Diego spoke. ”Who are you?” He almost sounded mad, and you would’ve thought he was if not for the way he looked at you. “Kid, what’s your name?”

You felt your nerves spike, his body was covered with an array of knives. “Eight.”

Diego gave a heavy sigh. Klaus looked sad.

”Why are you here?” He asked. It seemed to be a frequently asked question today. “How long have you been here?”

You were rendered speechless again. Diego sighed again, and pointed at Klaus. “You, you stay here. I’m getting the others.” Diego walked away hurriedly. You weren’t sure you were ready to see the others, but he had so many knives. You shouldn’t argue.

Klaus looked at the way you were near trembling. ”Are you okay?”

You looked at him, he seemed kind. You relaxed your muscles a bit. You nodded at his question, even though your answer was a lie.

He looked to his right, a questioning look on his face. He seemed to look at nothing like that a lot. It confused you. “You like to read?” You got the feeling he was trying to calm you, but you weren’t sure if it was working. It didn’t make you feel worse, however.

He was looking down at the book on your desk. The Giver by Lois Lowry. “Yes.” You said. You liked this book a lot. It was your favourite.

The world Jonas lived in felt familiar to you, in some way, if you twisted the plot a little. The way each day was the same, the way there were so many rules. You saw a bit of yourself in the The Giver himself, too. The way he passed on memories to Jonas reminded you of how you’d get visions sometimes with human contact, or even by touching an object.

You hoped that one day you’d get to break free from your own world of sameness, and see the world how it really was. You wanted to leave this box.

“That’s cool,” you didn’t think that Klaus himself was a reader, his voice sounded a bit flat when he spoke. It was how Reginald spoke when he said he cared about you. “I know someone who likes to read.”

”Who is it?”

He nodded to himself, breathing in deeply. “My brother.” He laughed nervously. “Our brother, I guess.”

Footsteps grew louder and closer, and you tensed up again. Multiple people came into your line of vision. It was unsettling, this was all so new to you. You had never been around so many people. As much as you had wished to be around others, it was much more frightening than you’d expected.

The first person to enter was Diego. The next person was tall, he looked stern. It made your stomach churn— he was so so tall, and the box was so small. You felt unsafe in a way. You felt trapped. More trapped than you ever had in the box. He didn’t look as comforting as Klaus. The next person was a beautiful woman, her bleached blonde curly hair standing out on her skin, and she was dressed semi-casual. She seemed very kind, and the way she was gazing at you with her hurt and confusion filled eyes felt motherly. The last person stood awkwardly, but her expression was nothing but. An emotion peeked through the emotionless face she had, it was clear as day. It was anger.

”Diego, what the hell is going on?” The woman with bleach blonde hair asked—Allison. Her name was Allison.

”I don’t—“ Diego turned to you again, then took a step closer. “Why are you here?” He’d asked the question again. You looked around the room, body rigid. The way everyone was looking at you made you uncomfortable. It was so much attention, it was too much.

“Diego, give them some space.” The awkward one—Vanya, your brain supplied—said. Diego looked upset, but he listened, backing away. “Are you seeing this? Look at what that asshole did while we were gone.”

You pushed yourself up to your bed frame further, arms beginning to shake for how long you’ve held yourself in that tense position.

”You know what? Luther,” the tall man looked shocked that Diego was addressing him, “why didn’t you say anything? You were here when they were. You never even moved out, Space Boy.”

Luther’s frowned deepened, and he towered over Diego. The tension in the room was building, your heart racing. “Watch it. I didn’t even know they were here.”

”Okay, guys,” Allison held up a hand, stepping in between the two, “you’re stressing them out.”

The sound of the clacking of heels eased you, and you felt more at home again. If you focused on the sound, breathing in and out slowly, maybe you could forget the world around you, and fall into the comforting arms of your mother. “Oh, Hello, dears.” Mom’s smile was wide, and she looked around, her head turning robotically. “I see you’ve met your sibling.” She clasped her hands in front of her.

”Mom, what’s going on?” Diego stepped toward her, eyes softening at her. You realized that Diego loved Mom as much as you did.

”What do you mean, Diego?”

”I— they’re—“

Mom placed a gentle hand on Diego’s shoulder. “Picture the word in your head, dear.”

”No, that’s not what I—“

”Mom, why are they in the basement?” Allison cut in, giving you worried glances.

”Your father doesn’t like when I talk about this.” This was the first time you had seen Mom look something other than joyful. The ends of her brows pulled down, and her smile fell.

“Mom,” Diego started softly, “Dad’s dead.”

Moms shoulders sagged. “Oh, that’s right,” She smiled again, standing completely upright, “I suppose you’ll just have to ask Pogo, hmm?” You’d noticed that Mom had been acting stranger lately; she had been ever since Dad died. She was never human, but lately that’s been more clear then ever.

Mom turned and left, going back to the elevator. If she had been human, you imagined she’d walk with a bounce in her step to fit her peppy personality. Her smile would look less artificial, too.

Your siblings all looked back at you. There were varying expressions: awkwardness, confusion, nervousness, upset.

Allison was the one to move first. “Do you get out of the house often?”

You merely shook your head. I don’t get out at all.

“Do you leave this . . . box often?”

You shook your head again.

Vanya seemed to tense up at that. You wondered why. The reason was just barely in your grasp, nothing but flashes of a time long ago. It was all hazy and you couldn’t quite tell what any of it meant. You felt a headache forming at the straining.

Allison walked forward slowly, reaching for your shoulder. You didn’t move, so she gently rested her hand down. She was as gentle as a mother should be—she was as gentle as Mom was. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had a child of her own. “How about we go upstairs, all right?” She smiled kindly at you.

You were left speechless. You couldn’t even remember ever stepping in the elevator, let alone going on another floor. The idea of it made you feel nervous, yet eager. You slowly nodded.

Allison smiled kindly, but she kept glancing at the others. She helped you stand, and your hand immediately reached for hers. It was muscle memory; you always held Mom’s hand when you went to train. Your heart lurched when you realized you were holding a strangers hand, but she didn’t seem to mind.

You stepped out of the box, and this was the first time you felt apprehensive while doing so. You weren’t going to train—you were going upstairs. You walked slower, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. It took everything in you not to squeeze Allison’s hand too tight—and everything in you not to let go. It was strange, really. You didn’t know her, but she was being so nice.

You stepped into the rickety elevator, and you soon felt even more nervous when everyone else stepped in as well. So many people trying not to look at you, but you still caught their glances. It was so crowded, you didn’t have enough space to breathe. It was too much, it’s too much—

Allison began to rub her thumb over the back of your hand. You didn’t realize you were shaking until that moment, as the world was blurry around you and the only thing you could focus on was this room was too small.

There was a scraping sound, indicating the elevators age. The doors slowly opened, the others filed out hurriedly. You took in a breath of air, feeling it rush into your lungs. Your heart was beating fast, hitting your sternum with every beat. You felt unfit to walk all of a sudden, like your legs would give out at any moment.

Allison began to walk, and you eventually moved your legs to go with her, your shaking hand still in hers. You kept looking down. You didn’t like how many people were looking at you. It was too much.

“How about we get you in some nicer clothes?” Allison said. You looked down at what you were wearing—your regular clothes, just grey. The fabric was semi-comfortable, a little bit itchy, but you had grown used to it over time. All of your clothes had been that way. What else were you supposed to wear? ”What . . . do you mean?”

Allison looked at Vanya for a second. “Well, do you have anything else? Don’t you think it’d be nice to change?”

You shrugged. You didn’t have anything else.

Allison insisted you wore something better anyway. You went to her room, and immediately decided you didn’t like her old clothes. They fit just fine, but they were so colourful in contrast to your bland attire. You didn’t like how it made you stand out. You ended up taking some of Vanya’s old clothes instead, it was quite similar to what she wore now, and you liked that. It had some of the softest fabric you had ever felt, but the colours were still dull, like you were used to.

After a few more twists and turns in the extremely confusing layout of the house, you found Mom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway. You had never been in the kitchen before.

”Oh, there they are!” Klaus said semi loudly. You didn’t even realize everyone was in here until now. Klaus still looked nervous and upset—which was the opposite of how he sounded—and the others looked tense.

Mom turned around from the counter and smiled. “Oh, well isn’t it nice to see you all together again.” It felt odd to be included, you realized.

Mom began putting plates onto the table, one for each sibling, and then she put a tray in the centre of the table. There were fruits and cheese and crackers, one of your favourite snacks. Mom would bring it down to you often. “Eat up!” She grinned.

Vanya put a hesitant hand on your back, guiding you to the table. She seemed to understand that the amount of people was making you uncomfortable, so she led you to the chair at the end of the table.

When her hand came in contact with your back, you gasped, freezing in place. Your eyes glazed over, a white film covering them as you were thrown into a vision—no, a flashback.

You saw padded walls and dim lights, a small window at the end of the room. The box. You didn’t see much, just flashes, but you still got the picture.

Vanya had been in the box before.

“Eight?” Vanya lifted a finger, tapping your back lightly. “Are you all right?”

Everyone was still looking at you, and the idea of them being there while you had a vision made you nervous. You only nodded.

Vanya seemed unsure, as she most definitely saw the change in colour of your eyes, but she continued to lead you to your chair, and then took the one next to you. You waited for the others to grab their food first, but they didn’t. Instead, Vanya slid the tray near your plate and smiled gently at you, giving you a nod. You tried to ignore the way they were still looking at you, and you grabbed some apple slices, along with some cheese and crackers.

Your fingers shook lightly, and Vanya saw it, then spoke. “What do we do?” You hoped she was okay. You didn’t like the box, yourself; she must not of liked it either.

”Well, isn’t it simple, Vanya?” Klaus took a sip from a bottle of alcohol, and Vanya just furrowed her brows, “we don’t give Dad a funeral, he doesn’t deserve it.”

Diego and Allison just shrugged, while Luther looked outraged, but he took one glance at you and hesitated.

You weren’t sure what to think about Dad having a funeral or not. He was your Dad, the only one you ever had, but he didn’t quite raise you, and he certainly didn’t care for you. Not on a parent-child level anyway. He only cared for you in the name of science.

Diego leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think he deserved a funeral anyway.”

That caused Luther to snap. “Diego!”

Diego opened his mouth to argue, but Allison held up a hand. “Guys,” she frowned in a disappointed manner, “enough.”

You’d spent so long wanting to leave the basement, but now that you were out and free, you felt so strange and out of place. You weren’t as prepared as you wished you were, even with the amount of books you had read. All sorts of genres, too, and you still felt lost. It was like when Klaus had found you, the world went on a standstill and all the attention was on you, which was something you were not ready for.

Not only that, but not even hundreds of books could have prepared you for the amount of items that belonged to a home, or just to people themselves. You’d passed many knickknacks on your way here, and the walls were far from empty with the paintings covering every inch of them. You had the urge to go inspect everything—it was extremely different from the box.

There was a sigh to your left, and you turned. It was Pogo. “I see you’ve found your sibling.” You didn’t like the way he said found instead of met. You weren’t a thing to be found, discovered, and figured out. You were a person with feelings, still figuring things out—and frankly, you were still figuring feelings out as well, no matter how much you’ve learned on your own.

”Found?” Vanya's soft voice was on the verge of incredulous.

“My apologies,” Pogo said, head hanging in shame at his choice of words. He wasn’t bad, not like Reginald was, but no one could deny the mistakes he’s made. “I suppose it’s time for your fathers secret to be revealed.”

Luther held his head high Pogos words. You didn’t like how much respect Luther showed your father.

Pogo gripped his cane harder between his fingers for a moment, sighing while looking down at the floor. “Your father had always been so set in his ways that no matter what I did, it was hardly possible to convince him to change anything,”

”That doesn’t make this any better, Pogo.” Allison frowned.

Pogo nodded slightly. “Yes, that’s true. I did try my best to stop this from happening—“

”What exactly is this? Why the hell were they down there?” Diego was tense, and you had to continually convince yourself that he wasn’t angry at you.

”When Eight was born, it was very much the same as you. It was just as strange and sudden, and your father wasted almost no time in getting them. They were raised downstairs their entire life for a reason I never knew, but trust me I tried to stop it.”

”Should’ve tried harder.” Klaus’ lips were pursed together in a tense frown and he was gripping his bottle tightly.

“While I was trying,” Pogo started solemnly, “Grace and I would bring them books, and sometimes Grace would teach them if your father let her. We wanted to prepare them as best as we could for the day they’d finally leave.”

It wasn’t enough, and you knew that. You were already so overwhelmed it was almost unbearable.

All of your siblings began talking at once, their voices gradually growing in volume to the point where the amount of sound you were hearing all at once became deafening. Your hands shot up to your ears, desperation swallowing you whole. You had never heard so much sound—the box was always so, so quiet.

The voices slowly grew quiet, and you opened your eyes to find everyone staring at you apologetically. You removed your hands from your ears and placed them at your side. You were no longer hungry, as discomfort settled in your stomach. You didn’t like the attention.

”Children,” Pogo began, “if you’d like to know more, feel free to ask. I will answer what I can but perhaps it’d be better to talk privately.” Pogo turned to leave the room, and no one followed. You had an inkling that they would rather talk later.

”I need to think.” Luther stood up abruptly, leaving the room. The siblings began filing out the room after that, each of them sending you hurt and sad glances. Eventually it was just you, Vanya, Klaus and Mom. Vanya stood to leave the room, but she looked at Klaus hesitantly. Her eyes eventually landed on Mom and her shoulders relaxed, and she left the room, too.

You felt more comfortable now. The room was almost empty, and Mom was here. If you thought hard enough maybe you could pretend Klaus wasn’t there, and it was just you and Mom, in the box.

But with a deep breath, you knew that wasn’t true. Klaus’ personality, however, did put you at ease. You were glad that it was him that stayed rather than Luther.

You tapped the table lightly, focusing on that and Mom’s humming.

“Wasn’t it so nice meeting your siblings, dear?” Mom said, turning around with a grin. Her joyful personality made you feel at home again.

You only shrugged in reply, and saw Klaus’ shoulders sag.

”We are quite the group, aren’t we?” He said lightly. You didn’t respond.

Klaus nodded to himself, setting his bottle down on a nearby chair. He was sitting on top of the table, fiddling with his necklace.

Klaus may have started talking, or maybe he didn’t, you didn’t know. You were stuck in your own head, a vision hitting you in flashes.

A blue flash; flickering faces; a boy in baggy clothes.

A sound began playing loud enough to be heard in the kitchen. It was a song you didn’t know the lyrics to—to be fair, you didn’t know many songs.

Klaus reacted first. He began dancing without a care in the world, and you felt the tension in your shoulders fade away. The song was relaxing, as was Klaus’ obnoxious personality. Klaus swayed around the kitchen gleefully, his eyes closed with a wistful expression on his face. The corner of your mouth twitched.

You began tapping your finger on the table lightly. It didn’t take you long to find the beat.

You didn’t jump around the room like Klaus was doing, but you were feeling a hint of joy all the same.

Then there was a noise—a blue flash. It was loud and terrifying. Knives and forks and kitchen utensils flew across the room, one missing your ear only slightly before it impaled the wall. You flinched backwards, your chair knocking over as you reached for the counter.

Klaus looked startled as well, freezing in place and turning to you. “Uh, stay here.” He grabbed a fire extinguisher, and he ran off.

The feeling of being alone was suddenly unwanted again, like how you felt this morning before you’d met any of your siblings. You were frightened and alone, and you didn’t know what to do.

Except, before you were trapped, in a completely sealed and closed off room. Now, you were out in the open, you had access to whatever you wanted, and yet you couldn’t move. Or rather, you wouldn’t. Walls were what held you back before, but now you had nothing but your own fear in your way. Fear thick as the box walls.

You had the faintest idea of what was happening outside—flickering faces—and the idea of facing it firsthand made your stomach churn. Being in the kitchen for the first time was one thing, standing in front of a glowing blue ball was something else entirely.

Something you weren’t prepared for, however, was a blue light flashing in the middle of the kitchen. It was much smaller, quieter, and quicker, but it was shocking all the same. Someone was now standing in front of you—a boy in baggy clothes.

His face scrunched up at the sight of you, who was still gripping the counter with fear-filled eyes. “Who are you?”

You didn’t reply.

He tilted his head, his confusion clearly growing stronger.

Klaus then ran into the kitchen breathlessly, stopping to put his hands on his knees, taking in deep breaths. Diego shoved him, entering the room as well, your other siblings soon following. Klaus eventually stood next to you with a sigh, keeping about 2 feet of distance. Assumingly for your own comfort.

”Who’s this?” The boy looked to them. His name was Five, you thought.

”Our sibling.” Klaus nods, painting a gleeful expression on his face. You couldn’t tell if the joy he was showing was real or not.

Five pauses, eyes flickering to you. “Our what?”

“Yeah, a lot’s been going on today.”

“Our sibling,” Five says again, more to himself, “okay, we don’t have time for this. What’s the date? The exact date.”

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endless-ineffabilities · 28 days

Text

le marquis et le moineau - first dance

Marquis de Gramont x f!reader

synopsis: one of several short stories, set up as a prequel to this oneshot of le marquis et le moineau. This is set in the early days, depicting the beginning of what would turn into a dangerous mutual infatuation.

more of moineau: le marquis et le moineau ▪︎ (ill)fated ▪︎ other works

themes/warnings: slow burn, mentions of violence (it's the John Wick universe ofc), language, the Marquis is a manipulative asshole (to be fair, so is the reader) so don't expect a gooey romance!

The dinner was not what you expected.

First of all, you are surprised that you are actually enjoying yourself. Of all things to find pleasure in, you did not think it would be this - sitting across the man regarded as the most stupidly imperious beanpole in your profession.

Well, no one has ever called him a beanpole, but you think it appropriate. So pompous beanpole it is. He towered over everything- the fucking giant - blocking your line of sight when you had followed him into the dining room.

Why did you follow him? It might have been fear for your head, deferrence to who is currently the most important guest in the Continental. But with how it's going now, you think that you would have agreed regardless.

Maybe it's the way simply being there feels like there's a hundred mini electric shocks going through your body, like you're on high alert the whole time. His eyes would rake over you as the two of you converse, scrutinizing, and you would return the favour.

It's strange, for someone already living in a highly demanding and dangerous world, to take particular notice of any thrill. It is constant, akin to breathing.

But this... why does this feel different?

"Do I have something on my face?" you hear him ask, the ego practically jumping out of his voice. Connard. He smirks at how you seem to have been staring at him for quite a while.

"Well, I noticed this little wrinkle you have between your eyebrows," you make a little gesture, and his expression sours a bit, but he doesn't look convinced. "It's a lot similar to what Winston has, which is strange since he is ahead in his years."

I spaced out, asshole, you wanted to say instead. Why the hell would I be looking at your face?

That's a lie. He's a sight, and he knows it. You know it. The thing, he never has to know that you know.

Or, something like that.

He prattles on, yet another probing question bubbling from his lips. "From everything you've said, it does not look to me as if you are satisfied with your position. Am I correct?"

"Not satisfied? Marquis, I am exactly where I want to be, doing what I want to do - "

"And what is that, hmm? Being an apprentice? Waiting on the guests of this fine establishment? Always at their beck and call like some... " He pauses, although he's well aware of what he means.

"Some what?" you say, keeping your tone civil through gritted teeth.

He appraises you, wondering why he is hesitant in dealing the final blow, and simply hurling the insult as he usually does. You are nothing to him, after all, are you not?

But no. If he is to use you - and this option is growing on him - he must stay on your good side. It would help in making you more pliable to his demands.

You straighten, after you're sure that he would go no further, taking a sip of your wine, "Why, Marquis, I didn't think you would be so... considerate."

He sneers, "I can be all kinds of nice to you, ma belle, if you please me well enough."

Ma belle. From any normal, warm-blooded admirer, the words can invoke amusement or gratitude. Maybe embarrassment at the other person's audacity, in your perspective. But from him? The coil in your stomach that unfurled brought forth a weird sensation of warmth, despite your job-mandated emotional regulation training.

More understandably, it raised your suspicion. What does he want? Is he just being... well, French?

"On behalf of the Continental, consider it our mission to ensure that you remain pleased throughout your stay," you recite like an AI automation, in an attempt to appear unaffected.

He titters, shaking his head, "Be that as it may, I only require you."

"M-me?" Smooth. Real smooth, super spy.

"Your services," he elucidates, basking in your surprise. "I would like to take you into my employ. I think you have immense potential."

"I don't think I understand."

He rolls his eyes, frustrated at how slow he thinks you're being. "You may just be a baby receptionist - "

You scowl at that, "Assistant to the Concierge, actually."

The prat ignores you, " - but you're a baby receptionist at the Continental New York. You have considerable training, and from your background, it is clear that you're plenty accustomed to this life."

"What do you need me for? I'm sure you have an array of specialists at your disposal. I happen to know of someone who can do anything you require. John Wick is - "

He scoffs, his eyes glinting in amusement, "I am not too inclined to assign John Wick as my date to the most important gala in Paris."

"Pardon me? Date?" you blanch.

Again, he makes his trademark insolent expression. Are you deaf, his face practically screams.

"Oui, my date," he gingerly wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin, and you imagine stuffing his mouth with it so he stops speaking entirely. "You've heard of the Paris ball, have you not?"

"The one held in your honour, every year."

"In my honour," he repeats, disdain lacing his voice. "Around three hundred little ants who claim to respect and admire me. But the thing about ants is... they have the tendency to destroy their queen."

"I see," you exhale, understanding his implication. "So I won't be there to simply be your date."

He tilts his head, "Were you expecting any different?"

Yes.

"No."

He smirks, having pushed you into a corner as planned. "Instead of having some dolt of an heiress or model with me like I normally do, I am choosing to bring you. I thought you would be able to weave your way into the crowd, sort out which ones are the little rats and report back to me. No one would suspect you because they would think you're just there to look pretty."

He sure has a way of being flattering and demeaning at the same time.

"Why can't your men do that job?" you challenge him. Your answer is nearly fully formed in your mind, for various reasons, but if there is a way out of this, you'll take it as a sign to bow out for your own good. "I'm sure you don't need to go through all this subtlety. Pick out the bad weeds and crush them underneath your polished boot, as you do."

"My dear, we are not animals. I prefer to move with a bit more finesse than my lowly counterparts."

Finesse? Or is he just unwilling to get his hands dirty? To wade into the murky waters among the sharks?

"Besides," he stands, walking slowly until he reaches you. He casts a shadow over the table as he stops behind your chair. When he speaks again, he has stooped so low you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck. "You need me. I am offerring you an opportunity to advance quickly in our world. Do me this favour and there is no one who will dare doubt your potential."

When you twist around to look at him, he is close. Too close. There is an almost sadistic glint in his blue eyes, a mark of someone who is used to getting what he wants.

You nod, once, expecting him to back away after that. Instead, he leans even closer, his eyes never leaving yours. You clock him raising a hand to your face in your peripheral vision, "What are you doing?"

He sighs in annoyance, and his fingers graze your jaw. He makes a condescending tsk noise, before saying, "If you're going to be my date, you have to be comfortable with being close to me. I will have to touch you, you know."

Prick.

Why are his eyes so goddamn blue?

Asshole.

"Of course," is all you mumble after a while.

It is as if he decides that he's done with you after that, stepping back, and gesturing to the hall with a noncommittal "Off you go."

"Thank you for dinner," you say, but he does not even care to look at you. "Do let us know if you need anything else."

You confidently walk to the entrance of his penthouse suite, head held high as you pass by his lackeys and associates. Thinking that the Marquis stayed behind in the dining room, goosebumps erupt on your skin when he says your name, and he is right behind you.

Before you can wonder why on earth he would see you out himself, he rubs his thumb momentarily in the space between your eyebrows, smirking.

"Oh would you look at that," he teases, "you have that little wrinkle too."

You notice how his accent is more pronounced when he is relaxed, in this case when he is making fun of you.

"Mmm," you smile sarcastically, and the glee on his face deepens.

"À bientôt, petit moineau," he says in finality.

There it is again, and you're resolved to find out what that means.

"Be seeing you."

Here I thought I ran out of juice for this story, but then...

#marquis vincent de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont x reader #john wick 4 #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgård #marquis de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont

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tonyspank · 9 months

Text

CHAPTER EIGHT | GET ME

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, threesome, idk what else

Words: 5.8k

A/N: i dont know what to say

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | drabble 1

"Hey, Olivia! Wait up." Eli says, jogging to the girl's side as she walks to her next class. Olivia smiled and slowed her pace. "What's up?" she asked, confused by the fact Eli was approaching her as it's normally the other way around. Eli hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I was wondering if you're okay... I haven't really talked to you in a while."

Olivia looks around, letting out a, "Um..." Eli twists his lips, adjusting his bookbag straps. Olivia sighed. "I'm alright," she said, before giving Eli a small smile. "I've just been thinking about how one-sided everything was, you know?" Eli didn't need any other clues about what Olivia was talking about. It was obvious she was talking about you.

"I just find it immature and rude about how she couldn't have said something earlier. It's like she was trying to make me feel unwanted," Olivia continued. Eli nodded in a frown apparent on his face, "I'm sorry, Liv."

"It's alright," Olivia said. "I just wish she had been honest with me from the start. That would have been the mature thing to do." Eli nodded in agreement. He knew he couldn't change the situation, but he wanted to do something to help.

"Let me take you out for some ice cream. What do you say?" Olivia smiled, her bright eyes twinkling in the light. "Um...sure. I guess." She says, breathing out a small laugh.

Eli laughs as well, his face heating up from the sound she made. "Here, let me walk you to class." He held out his hand, and Olivia took it, a smile blooming on her face. He smiled back, feeling a warmth in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time. They slowly made their way to class, content in the silence between them.

You and Eli were now at practice, doing a 1v1 drill your coach had suggested for the two of you. You take a step back, pump-faking before shooting the shot, which goes in successfully. Eli's face is blank and you're a bit concerned, he hasn't said anything this entire practice. You hand him the ball, a furrow in your brows. "E, what's wrong?"

Eli sighs, avoiding your gaze. "Why haven't you talked to Olivia yet?" He finally looks up, his expression softening. "That's pretty fucked up man. She was like for real sad about what's been going on between you two."

You look down, feeling ashamed. "I know, I just don't know what to say," you mumble. Eli looks at you sympathetically and says, "It's ok, just be honest with her. She deserves that much." You take a deep breath and nod, getting into position to guard Eli.

He looks at you for a few seconds before dribbling the ball. "I'll talk to her tomorrow." You say as Eli shoots it, swishing the shot. "No, talk to her today. You keep delaying it and never end up doing it." He grabs the rebound, standing in front of you.

You grab the ball from him, shrugging him off and walking behind the three-point line. You run to the paint for a layup but Eli blocks it, staring you down the entire time. "I'm being serious, Y/N."

You take a step back and feel your blood starting to rise. "I said I will." He stares at you, "And I said do it today. Not tomorrow." You scoff at his word choices and tone, "Why are you acting like my father?"

He narrows his eyes and steps closer. "And why are you acting like an asshole? How fucking hard is it to say two words?" You don't answer, you just turn and leave the gym, grabbing your bag as you exit. He doesn't call after you, and you don't look back, but you can feel his eyes on your back until you're out of sight.

You head home feeling frustrated and angry. You arrive home and sit on the couch, still replaying the scene in your head. You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. You know he was right, but you're still angry.

"You okay?" You hear Jenna ask, walking into the living room. You take another deep breath and nod. "Yeah, I'll be okay," you say, forcing a smile. Jenna places a hand on your shoulder, leaning down and placing a quick kiss on your lips.

She squeezes your shoulder and stands up, a smile on her face. "Jenna! What if Jacob walked in here," you whisper yell, looking to see if he was present or not. Jenna just chuckles and shakes her head, rolling her eyes. "Jacob is on a Zoom call for some meeting." You relax, a small smile forming on your lips.

You pull Jenna down, bringing her into a more intense kiss. Jenna wraps her arms around your neck, the two of you melting into each other. You pull away, breathless, and look into each other's eyes, smiling as your hearts beat fast. "Emma invited us to her place."

You hum, scanning her outfit. "Is that why you're wearing this yellow dress?" Jenna blushes, her cheeks turning a light pink. "Yes," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I hoped you'd like it."

Your hands reach out and take her hands in yours. "I love it," you say, smiling. "It's beautiful, just like you." Jenna's cheeks turn even pinker, and a smile spreads across her face. She looks up at you, her eyes shining with joy. You lean in and kiss her softly. "Let me just shower then we can go."

She nods and you hurry off to the bathroom. You quickly get cleaned up and head back out to the living room, where Jenna is waiting. You both smile at each other and head out the door, hand-in-hand, ready for a night of fun and adventure.

When you arrived at Emma's house you were greeted with a hug and smile, and you both head inside. Emma's outfit was stunning and you could tell she was excited to spend time with you. You all settled into the living room. Emma pours three glasses of her favorite wine.

You furrow your eyebrows as she hands you one. "I'm underage." Emma laughs giving you a wink. "Don't worry, I won't tell," she said. You smile and take a sip, feeling the warmth of the wine as it ran down your throat.

Jenna smiles at you through her glass, her eyes twinkling with amusement. That's when you felt the tension in the room. It felt like you were left out of something. You look back and forth between her and Emma, trying to figure out what was going on. Jenna places down her glass as Emma turns down the music that's been playing for a short period of time.

Emma clears her throat and begins to speak. "Do you like your wine?" she says, a smile creeping across her face. "Mhm, it's pretty good. I haven't had it before." Emma and Jenna exchange a knowing glance and Jenna smiles standing up from the other couch.

Jenna walks over to you and sits down beside you, pressing a kiss onto your neck. She takes the glass of wine from your hand, setting it aside. She reaches up, gently cupping your face in her hands, and bringing your lips to hers. The two of them kiss tenderly, the taste of the wine still on your tongues.

You pull away glancing at Emma who smiles in response, walking over to sit down on the opposite side of you. Jenna leans into your ear, whispering. "Emma and I wanna share you. Are you up for that?" You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of having both Emma and Jenna's attention. You turn to Jenna and give a nod, and they both break into wide grins.

Jenna and Emma exchange a glance before Jenna leans in closer and lightly kisses your cheek. You blush in response while Emma places a few kisses on your neck. You close your eyes and savor the moment, enjoying the warmth of their affection.

Emma runs her fingers through your hair, sending a shiver down your spine. Jenna's hand begins unbuttoning your shirt, while Emma's hand slides up your thigh. You can barely contain your excitement as their touch sends sparks through your body. They lean away from you, facing each other before their lips meet in a passionate embrace.

They break away, exchanging a look of desire, before turning back to you. "Let's move to my room," Emma says, standing up from the couch. You nod eagerly, standing up and following them. Your heart races as you make your way to the bedroom, anticipation coursing through your veins. You can hardly believe what's about to happen and Jenna was so okay with the idea.

You enter the room, the door closing behind you. You look around, taking in the sight of the bedroom before finally turning back to Emma and Jenna. You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you take the first step forward. "Why are you being so shy?" Jenna teases, a small smile on her lips. You furrow your eyebrows, your own lips curving up. "Um...I'm not shy."

Jenna laughed, her smile widening. Emma stepped forward and put her hand on your shoulder. "We know you're not shy. Let's just have some fun, okay?" She said and you nodded, finally feeling a little more relaxed.

You take off all your in a rush, almost falling over before your hands reach out to the women in front of you, undressing them with ease. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, but you pushed your fear aside and embraced the moment.

You carefully removed the last piece of clothing and stepped away to admire your work. They both giggles, turning around and teasing you as they finally stood naked in front of you.

You smiled and admired their beauty, crouching down in front of their asses. "I don't even know where to begin..." Jenna giggles, biting her lip. "You should see Emma's face right now. She's basically begging for it." She turns to Emma, giving her a wink. Emma blushes, her heart racing. She can feel the anticipation building up inside her.

You place a hand on Emma's hip, licking her wetness from behind. Emma gasps in pleasure as you start flicking your tongue around wildly. You can feel Emma's body trembling as you keep licking her.

Her muscles start tensing up and her breathing becomes heavier. Emma lets out a loud moan of pleasure as you continue to pleasure her while Jenna smiles at her reaction, finding this a bit too interesting.

Emma is now on the edge, unable to take any more pleasure as you continue to lick her. Suddenly, she comes in a powerful wave of pleasure. "Shit! I'm cumming!" Jenna watches as Emma breathes heavily, enjoying the afterglow of her orgasm. Jenna smiles, feeling proud of you for making Emma come. "Good job, baby. Emma has never had an orgasm from just oral before."

You smile, feeling satisfied with yourself. Emma looks behind at you with a satisfied expression, her eyes twinkling. While Jenna shakes her ass in your face, "Let's see if you can go two for two." You let out a small laugh before placing both your hands on Jenna's ass, spreading them apart before you slip your tongue inside her, feeling her wetness as she lets out a pleasured moan.

You slide your hands around her hips and pull her closer as you keep thrusting your tongue inside of her. Emma places a hand on Jenna's stomach, watching her reaction. Jenna's eyes are shut tight, her mouth agape. Jenna's breathing is becoming labored as she lets out a moan. "Y/N..."

"You heard that? She likes it, Y/N. Keep going." Emma smiles, her face alight with pleasure as she watches Jenna. Your hands slide up across Jenna's body, eliciting more moans from the woman in your arms. Emma takes a step back, watching as Jenna bites down on her lip, balling her fist up.

Jenna's body trembles as you keep going, the pleasure so intense that it's almost too much for her. She lets out a long, loud moan as you reach the peak, and her body is wracked with pleasure. "Fuckkkkk!"

Jenna collapses into your arms, her body still trembling with pleasure. You hold her close, the two of you basking in the afterglow. Emma looks on, a satisfied smirk on her face. Jenna pulls away, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. She looks into your eyes and plants a gentle kiss on your lips. You feel a warmth in your chest, a feeling of contentment and joy. Emma smiles at the two of you, her eyes sparkling with delight.

"Two for two!" You laugh a goofy smile on your lips. Jenna playfully rolls her eyes, lifting herself up from you. "Have you ever gotten a rimjob?" You shake your head at Emma's question. Emma laughs, winking at Jenna. "No one has eaten my chocolate dropper." You tell Emma and Jenna's face scrunches up in response.

Jenna and Emma laugh, with Emma lightly punching you in the arm. "You're outrageous," Jenna says, shaking her head. The girls both drop to their knees, Emma behind you and Jenna in front of you.

Jenna grabs your dick, stroking you a bit, holding eye contact. Emma slides her hands down your back before, grabbing a hold of your ass. Jenna starts to move her hand faster, causing you to moan in pleasure. "That feels so good, Jen."

Emma takes the opportunity to stick her tongue into your rear end, causing you to gasp in surprise. "Woah!" Jenna laughs at your reaction. "How is it?" You shake your head, trying to think of the right words. "It's...something. It's not bad!"

Jenna giggles before taking you into her mouth. You feel a wave of pleasure rush through your body as Jenna begins bopping her head, almost taking all of you into her mouth.

You can feel Emma's tongue lapping against your bottom and a moan escapes your lips as Jenna increases her tempo. All too soon, Jenna pulls away, leaving you panting and wanting more. She looks up at you with a satisfied smirk and you know that you'll never forget this moment. You take a few moments to recover, before turning to Emma with a smile. "That was something else."

Emma just laughs as Jenna says, "Get on the bed." You eagerly hop onto the bed, lying on your back. Emma and Jenna join you on the bed, arching their backs as their mouth makes its way to your penis.

Emma and Jenna take turns licking your penis with their tongues, teasing your most sensitive parts. They move their mouths up and down the length of your shaft, letting their tongues swirl around the head of your penis. "Shit," You grab the sheet under you, unable to contain your pleasure.

They pull away and Jenna holds you by your balls. "I wanna see you suck her off." She says to Emma. Emma takes you into her mouth, sucking hard on your cock as Jenna watches. Jenna's eyes light up with pleasure as she watches Emma pleasure you.

She takes her hand and guides Emma's head, pushing her down further onto your shaft. You moan in pleasure as Emma moves faster, her lips feeling like silk against your skin.

Jenna can't take her eyes off the sight, her breathing fast and shallow. "I'm so close, shit." You whisper. Jenna smirks at this as Emma lets you go, smiling herself.

"You guys are too much," You mumble out, sitting up on the bed. Jenna laughs, her eyes sparkling. She moves closer to you, her hand tenderly brushing your cheek. "What are you waiting for?" She says, her voice low and quiet. "Come fuck me."

You take her in your arms, and your kiss is full of longing and desire. You lay Jenna on her back and Emma grabs her legs, holding them for her as you enter the brown-haired woman.

You thrust into her slowly, savoring the sensation of being connected to her. Jenna gasps groping herself as her mouth falls open. "Fuck, baby. You're so deep!" You keep thrusting, feeling a wave of pleasure building up inside you.

Emma's blue eyes stare at you, filled with desire. You quicken your pace as your desire intensifies, and you can feel Jenna's body trembling beneath you. Jenna's head throws back in elation, "I'm cumming!"

You let out a deep moan as you watch her cum, as her body shudders with pleasure. Emma wraps a hand around your neck, and you kiss her passionately. Jenna bites her lip at you both, smiling.

You pull away, both of you breathless. You pull out of Jenna with a deep groan before Emma places herself between Jenna's legs. Emma's tongue begins to work its magic as she arches her back into you. Jenna moans and her hips move in rhythm with Emma's motions. You slip inside the woman in front of you, keeping eye contact with Jenna the entire time.

You start thrusting in tandem with Emma, and soon all three of you are caught in a passionate frenzy of pleasure. Jenna's breath comes in gasps and Emma's moans fill the room. "It's so hot watching you fuck her," Jenna gasps out, a loud moaning following.

Jenna's body vibrates as she reaches another climax, Emma following right behind her. Emma collapses against Jenna and you pull out and lay down next to them, all of you panting and sweaty. "You're not tapping out already are you?" Jenna asks teasingly. You immediately shake your head. "Of course...not!" You pant, breathless.

Emma smiles, "I thought you played basketball? Your stamina is pretty shitty." You laugh and sit up, leaning on your arms. "Hey, I'll have you know I'm an unstoppable force on the court!" You reply, grinning. Jenna laughs and rolls her eyes, "Sure you are, champ!"

Jenna brings you into a heated kiss, pressing her body against yours and deepening the kiss. You wrap your arms around her waist and hold her close. Eventually, you break apart, and you both look into each others eyes, both with silly grins on your faces. "Let's prove it," you say, lifting her up on top of you so she can straddle you.

You smile, "I did earlier." Emma shakes her head, laughing. "That was nothing." In sync Jenna lowers herself onto you as Emma sits on your face, facing Jenna. You let out a groan as you feel the two of them on top of you.

The sensation of them both pressed against you is overwhelming. Emma starts to move her hips in a slow circle, pushing her warmth against your face. While Jenna begins rocking her hips, your eyes close and you are lost in the pleasure of the moment. Emma moans and Jenna giggles as the sensations take over.

"She's twitching so much Emma," Jenna giggles, biting down on her lip as she raises her hips. Emma grins and nods as Jenna's hips start to move faster. Your breathing becomes more labored as Jenna's hips continue to move in circles, spelling out a word.

Jenna mumbles something incoherent as she groans out in pleasure, her body shaking as the word is spelled out completely. Emma looks up at you Jenna with a smile, bringing her best friend into a kiss.

Jenna's eyes flutter open as she looks at Emma with a lazy smile, her cheeks flushed. Emma's body starts to shake and soon she lets out a loud moan, a liquid coating your face. Jenna's eyes close again as Emma's body relaxes, a satisfied smile gracing her lips. They remain still for a moment, enjoying the moment of peace and pleasure, before getting up and lying down again. "Cum on our faces, Y/N."

You sit up on your knees, kneeling above the women under you as you stroke yourself, bringing yourself closer to an orgasm. You cry out as you come, your pleasure spilling over the two beautiful women beneath you. They both look up, eyes gleaming in satisfaction, as you lay down between them, letting out a chuckle. "Best. Day. Ever."

They laugh before getting up to clean themselves off, "Guys." You say after them, and they both hum in response. "Let's not tell Eli about this. I think he'll actually murder me." They both nod, agreeing to keep this a secret.

It's been a couple of days since your secret happened, and you were chasing after Olivia in hopes to give her an apology. "Olivia!" You call after the girl. She turns around at the sound of your voice. She smiles and walks back to you. You send her a sad smile, "I just wanted to apologize for um, being childish and not communicating with you about my feelings and intentions." Olivia nods in understanding and reaches out to give you a hug.

You hug back tightly and feel a sense of relief wash over you. "It's okay. I appreciate you for apologizing, I've gotten over it though. I hope we can still be friends." You smile and nod. "Me too, I'd like that." You hug again and then part ways. Olivia waves goodbye and you watch her walk away, feeling a weight of guilt being lifted off your shoulders.

Time to get home.

Meanwhile, Jenna was asleep in bed. She had felt extremely tired this morning so you took the bus to school. Jacob was unaware of her tiredness and he had just gotten off the phone with his boss. Jacob had been given a work assignment that was due at the end of the day, but he wanted to spend some time with his fiancée before he stressed himself out about work.

He crawls into the bed, pressing a kiss onto Jenna's forehead. Jenna stirs, her eyes fluttering open. Jacob smiles and leans down, pressing a kiss on her lips, but before their lips meet Jenna places a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

She looks up at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep. "Good morning," she says, her voice still thick with sleep. Jacob just smiles, leaning in for another kiss. She turns her hand, covering her mouth as she yawns.

"Why do you keep ducking my kisses?" Jacob laughs. He straddles the girl, smiling. "I'm in the mood and I miss you." She shakes her head, "I'm not in the mood, sorry Jacob." He sighs and sits up, looking away. "I understand, but it just seems like you're never in the mood. We haven't seen each other in months." She sits up in the bed. "I'm just tired."

Jacob caresses her face and gently kisses her forehead. "What's wrong?" She takes a deep breath and tears begin forming in her eyes. She turns away and begins crying. Jacob wraps his arms around her, holding her close. "It's ok, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything."

She takes another deep breath, "Jacob...I think I'm pregnant." Jacob sits in shock before pulling away from her. His mouth starts forming a wide smile. He looks into her eyes and says, "This is the best news I've ever heard. We're going to be parents." She looks up at him, her eyes still filled with tears. Jacob gently takes her face in his hands and wipes away her tears. "I'm going to be a dad!"

He stares at Jenna, noticing the sad look in her eyes. And that's when the realization hits. His happy face turns into shock and then anger. He lets go of her and takes a step back. "What have you done?" he says in a stern voice. "You—You really cheated on me?!"

Jenna starts to cry, and she hangs her head in shame. "I'm sorry," she whispers. He shakes his head in disbelief. "I can't fucking believe you!"

You walk through the front door, bopping your head as your headphones blast at full volume, unaware of the argument going on upstairs. Jenna looks up at him, tears streaming down her face. She quickly gets up from the bed rushing downstairs. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" Jacob yells after her, following her downstairs.

Jenna ignores him, rushing to the kitchen looking for her keys. She grabs her keys and turns to face him. "I'm leaving," she says, her voice shaking. "I cheated on you, Jacob. It's clear we're not happy anymore." Jacob stares at her, stunned. He's speechless as she turns away, but stops her, harshly grabbing her wrist.

"Let me go," Jenna says, her voice barely a whisper. He stares into her eyes, his grip tightening. "I won't let you go," he says. "I won't let you leave me like this."

Jenna struggles to break free, but his grip is too tight. She looks into his eyes, pleading for him to let her go. His face softens and he lets her go, "Jenna, please."

A hand runs through his hair. "I don't care if you cheated! I love you, okay? Stay with me, please? I came here so we could fix things, didn't I? So, let's fix it!" She stepped closer, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "I don't love you anymore. This isn't healthy Jacob."

Jacob's face fell, his eyes widening in disbelief. He stepped away, the hurt evident in his expression. "But I thought... I thought you said you still loved me." She shook her head sadly. "I did, but things have changed. I can't do this anymore." She goes to turn away, but Jacob stops her, dropping to his knees.

He reaches for her hand, begging her to stay. "Please, I can't bear to lose you. I love you too much." She looks down at him, her face softens, and then she shakes her head. "It's over, Jacob. I'm sorry." His hand drops to his side. He stares up at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and acceptance. You walk into the kitchen, slowly taking off your headphones. Jacob slowly stands up, turning his head to you.

You look between the two, not knowing what to say. Jacob quickly wipes his face as Jenna makes her way toward you, rubbing a hand on your forearm. "I have to tell you something," Jenna whispers to you, her voice trembling. You can feel her body shaking as she holds onto your arm. "Jenna, what's wrong?" You ask, staring into her brown eyes before looking at Jacob.

Jacob shakes his head, sighing as he rubs his temples. Jenna takes a deep breath and looks away, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm pregnant," she whispers, before burying her face in your shoulder, her body heaving with sobs. You hold her close, unsure of what to say.

You feel her pain and her fear, and you know that everything is going to change. You take a deep breath and whisper "We'll get through this, together."

Jenna nods against your chest, tears still streaming down her face. You gently stroke her hair, letting her know you'll help her along the way, every second. Jacob stares at the two of you, his heart basically shattering.

"It's you..." he mumbles, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Jenna looks up at Jacob with a teary smile. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Jacob...I'm so sorry." Jacob shakes his head, her temper beginning to rise. Jacob steps back and looks away.

"What happens when she decides you're too much for her and she wants her youth back, huh? You're just creating another you... Making her settle down so young just to end up unhappy. That's supposedly what happened to you, right? What happens when her parents find out?" He says, his voice low and soft, but obviously filled with confusion and anger.

She bites her lip, tears forming in her eyes. "That won't happen," she says firmly. "I love her and I'm not going anywhere." Jacob scoffs, "Jenna you let an eighteen-year-old get you pregnant! She's still in high school!"

Jenna glares at him. "That doesn't matter. We can make this work, I know we can." Jacob shakes his head. "You're delusional." He turns away, unable to watch or listen anymore. Jenna takes a deep breath and watches Jacob leave.

Jacob slams the door, not even going upstairs for his things. You stand there a bit before turning back to Jenna, wiping the tears from her eyes. Jenna takes a few moments to compose herself before turning to you. "I'm sorry for that," she says with a sad smile. You shake your head, your mind on one thing only.

"When did you find out?" Jenna looks away, her voice shaking. "Yesterday," she whispers. "I just didn't know how to tell you." You pull her into a hug, rubbing her back softly. "I'm still shocked we're pregnant."

Jenna looks up at you, a mixture of joy and fear on her face. You kiss her forehead, reassuring her that you are both going to be ok. She takes a deep breath and smiles, knowing that you are in this together.

Here you were, back at your dining room table, except it wasn't as full as it was last time. You, Jenna, Eli, and your parents surrounded it. You told your parents to come home early due to an emergency, and Eli had come over as well due to the fact you texted him an SOS.

You all looked at each other, not quite sure what to say. The only sound was the ticking of the clock, the only movement was the occasional shifting in a chair. Finally, Jenna spoke up, breaking the silence.

"I have some news..." Your eyes glance at Jenna before staring at your parents. There's no way she's not going to ease her way into this? "Me and Jacob have split." Your parents' eyes widened in surprise, unsure of what to say. There was a moment of stunned silence.

Your mom was the first one to speak, "Oh honey, I'm so sorry." Your dad cleared his throat, grabbing Jenna's hand. Jenna gave your dad's hand a gentle squeeze before speaking up, "It'll be alright, I wasn't happy anyway."

Eli mumbles something only you can hear, "Good riddance." You look at Eli, shaking your head at him. You turn away from Eli, not wanting to see the smug look on his face. You take a deep breath and look around the room, feeling the tension in the air.

You can see the worry and sadness on your parent's faces, and you know that worry is going to change into confusion and anger once Jenna tells them you got her pregnant.

You take a deep breath and try to prepare for the inevitable storm that's coming. You know this situation will change everything and you're not sure if it will be for the better. "Are you okay?" Your dad asks, his eyebrows pushed together. Jenna nods, "Yeah. I'm fine. Y/N has been there for me."

Jenna gives your dad a reassuring smile as your mom sends you a tight-lipped smile in appreciation, you nod back at her, but your heart is racing. "We uh, actually have something to tell you." Jenna's gaze drops to her hand that's engulfed in your dad's, biting her lip.

Your dad glances at your mom confused, smiling. "What is it?" Eli's eyes widen as he realizes what Jenna's about to admit. "Y/N and I are... um... we're dating." Jenna smiles nervously, awaiting his response. Your parents exchange looks before your dad speaks. "Well, that's unexpected," he says with a chuckle. "Ummmm..." Your mom says, letting out her own laugh.

"But if you two are happy, then that's all that matters," your dad continues. Your mom nods in agreement, a smile on her face. "It's unexpected, but if you guys take it slow, then we can support you both." They exchange a glance and you can tell that they are both in agreement. You scratch your nose, "We have more news too..."

Your parents look at each other, a mix of surprise and anticipation in their eyes. "What is it?" your mom asks. You take a deep breath and tell them the rest. "Jenna is... Jenna's pregnant, and I'm the parent."

They both looked stunned. "What are you going to do?" your dad asked. You took a deep breath and said, "We'll figure it out together." Your mom shakes her head, "Honey. Listen to me, you're in high school, okay? You have many more years to have a baby! Right now you need to focus on basketball and your education."

You looked at them both and sighed. "I know," you said. "But we're going to keep it." Your dad nodded his head, not knowing what else to say. But your mom finds the words for him, "What are you going to do? Drop out of school?" You shook your head. "No, I'm going to find a way to make it work."

Jenna places a hand on your thigh. " We'll figure it out together, don't worry." You smiled at her, grateful for her support. You looked at your parents, determined to make it through this. "I'm taking responsibility guys." Jenna squeezed your thigh, nodding in agreement. Your parents shared a look before they both sighed in relief.

Your dad stands up, his chair screeching against the tile. "I need a quick breather." Your mom watches him walk away, frowning at you. "Y/N, we worked hard so you could be the opposite of us. We wanted you to go big places with your opportunities." She sighed and shook her head. "I just want you to remember that." She turns around, following your dad.

You glance at Eli, completely forgetting he was here. He's been staring at the two of you with a blank face, not moving a muscle. You feel a lump in your throat, and you don't know why you're feeling so emotional.

Eli quickly gets up wrapping his hands around your throat playfully, shaking your body. He laughs, and you can't help but laugh too. You hug him tightly, grateful for his presence. "I'm going to be an uncle!"

You smile and look into Eli's eyes, seeing the joy that has been missing for so long. He smiles back, and you know that things will be alright. You also know Eli would be the perfect uncle to your child.

"Have you thought of names?" Eli's face lights up and he starts listing off names he likes. You can't help but smile. Jenna playfully rolls her eyes at your best friend, calming herself down from the conversation she just had with your parents. "But like really! Kian is a cute name. It means king or like the grace of god." You furrow your eyebrows, "What if it's a girl?"

"Kia! Duh!" Jenna starts to laugh. Eli joins in, and soon the three of you are in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. You can't help but appreciate the silly moment, and you feel your worries start to fade away.

taglist - @alexkolax @raven-ss @godsfavouritelesbiann @jennasslut @niqmandu @amburntfreeman @returnnofdamac @starry-night17 @get-the-fuck-outta-here @morganismspam23 @tai-hdg @crazyoffher2

#get me #reader insert #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader #jenna x g!p reader #jenna x y/n #jenna ortega x g!p reader #jenna ortega smut

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christopher-bangnaldoskzz · 1 year

Text

Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: No warnings yet, however, I am going to say this is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary: A sub needs a dom, a dom wants a sub but what happens when feelings overlap with contracts and love creeps in? Will a contract remain only a contract? Or are emotions like love too hard to keep in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath, thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Also thank you so much for writing my summary xx

"Don't be stupid, Grace," you say to your friend. Surely she is joking. She wasn't serious, right?

"Yes, I'm serious." She was your only friend in the BDSM world, and she was a dom as well.

"What!….noooo, king, please, I'm not looking for one at the moment" that was a lie. You did want a dom however, what you didn't like was finding a random dom on the internet. Grace knows your past experiences with doms. Unfortunately, the last don you were with was a pit too rough for your taste.

"I have found a guy I think you will like...he classifies himself as a soft Dom," she said, pulling out her phone to show you a picture of the guy on the screen.

You look closely at the profile photos. He definitely takes your fancy. "Grace, please tell me you haven't messaged him?" You watch her mouth move into a shit-eating grin.

"He's here right now." She was such an asshole for doing this to you. "Okay, behave," she says through her teeth, and the young man walks over to the table.

"Umm, hi," he said with his hand behind his neck. You glance up, and there in front of you stands a 5ft7 man with brown hair and the most striking brown eyes you have ever seen. Your heart flutters as he awkwardly chuckles and sits down.

He smiled, setting up his chair as he introduced himself to you. "Hi, I'm Chan ... It's nice to meet you". As he did, the glass of red wine your friend ordered fell onto his black suit.

"Oh shit," he said, lifting the glass up in a hurry. The waiter rushed over to help with the cleanup.

"I'm so sorry, sir…we will get you another glass," the waiter said, signing for the bartender to come over.

"No, no, it's okay, all my fault. I don't need another glass, thanks…but maybe miss-"He looked at you for confirmation of your last name.

"Y/L/N", you smiled. "But no, thank you, I don't drink," you said before the waiter turned the bartender away.

You could hear a soft "good girl" as Chan wiped the wine off his jacket.

"Wait, don't rub, dab….please allow me," you said, leaning over. He lifted his eyes to look at you, your cleavage in his line of sight.

He slowly hands you the jacket. "Thank you, but you don't have to" by the time he had finished, you were already dabbing his coat with the napkin and water in your glass.

He gazed at you. "It stops the mark from spreading."

"Well, this is off to a swimming start…I shall be heading out," Grace said, closing her handbag and starting to walk out of the restaurant.

"I'm sorry she made you come all the way here to meet me," you said, tucking your hair behind your ears, so they stopped blocking your view.

"I'm not," he mumbled.

You look up, and he just stares at you wide-eyed. "Here… you'll have to put some stain remover on it when you get home. Let it sit for 20 minutes, then soak it" you pass the jacket back to him.

"Stain remover…then soak, got it, thanks", he smiled, placing the jacket behind him.

"So, have you been here before?" He asked, itching his shoulder blades.

"I'm going to cut to the chase," you said, leaning in. "I know Grace told you I'm looking for a dom…but honestly, I don't think we are suited."

Chan scoffs, "Oh really?…what makes you think that?" The sudden change in his confidence was such a turn-on.

"Well, for one, you can barely keep it together", you giggled.

"Well…. You might just have to keep it together for both of us," he smiled, looking down at his menu. "Should we start over?" you asked the man. He doesn't back down easily.

"Sure….. I'm Y/N" you suck your hand out for him to shake.

"Chan…or you can call me Chris for now" he made eye contact with you as he squeezed your hand. "So tell me, Y/N…..what do you like to eat… it's on me, obviously", he smiled, feeling proud of himself.

"Hmmm, your paying?….. I think I might get the lobster," you grin. He chuckled as he ignored you and kept looking at the menu.

"Are you ready to order?" The same waiter as before announced

"I'll grab the eye fillet, please….medium rare", Chan said, smiling and looking up and over towards you.

"And Y/N will have the lobster, right?" The fact that he was actually willing to pay for your $100 lobster meal was exciting.

"Oh yes, please" you smile sweetly at the waiter, who nods and writes down the meal.

"You honestly didn't have to order me lobster…I could have picked something else," you said, leaning in.

"The truth is… I'm secretly hoping you don't eat it all so I can have some," he too, leaning in, whispering like it was a secret. You like the way he has settled in now. It's not so awkward.

"Maybe Grace was right about you," you say, taking a sip of your water.

"Oh, you think so... hmmm, interesting….why did you leave your last partner?" He said, sitting back in the chair with his fingers locked together.

“He uhhhh…..he was a sadist….I left him because he burnt me pretty bad" it was such a long time again, yet it felt like yesterday.

"How severe?" He sounded a little too intrigued.

"Like I have terrible scars on my back."

"So fire is a definite limit for you, then?" He was, of course, trying to get your limits out without triggering you.

"Yes, absolutely", you smile as you begin to warm up to the idea of having Chris as your master.

"Noted," he said, folding his arms, "had he ever spoken to you about being into sadism?"

"No, not at all. I would have never agreed to play…he started off sweet. Still, the more we continued our relationship, the more he became obsessed with sadism play."

"I'm sorry he did that to you," Chris said, reaching for your hand. "But if you choose to be with me…I will never put you in that position." He looked deeply into your eyes.

"But it's your turn…why did you leave your last partner?"

"She left me...there were just certain things I could not overcome what she wanted from me...so we thought it would be best if she left" this worried you a bit, so you dug deeper. "Basically….I wasn't firm enough for her" he became nervous again, pulling his hand away from yours, and right as he did, the food was being served.

"Excuse me, sir…do you think you could just place both meals in the middle" again, you smile sweetly at him while he agrees, setting the stake and lobster into the middle of the table.

"Thank you so much. I appreciate it" he gave you a smile as he turned around and walked the opposite way.

"Here, allow me," you say, taking a lobster tail off the plate and placing it on the side of the stake. You cut the stake in half, the other half moving to the lobster plate. Then, put lobster tails on the half stake and pour your lobster sauce on top. Once you have completed the meal, you serve the dish to Chris, who is mesmerised by your actions.

As Chris snaps out of his daze, you chuckle, "I believe they call it surf and turf."

"Thank you. I'm going, to be honest with you right now….I would really like to offer you a contract."

CHAN POV

"Chan, come on, you have to get over Vanessa," Changbin said as he flopped down on the studio couch.

"I am over her", I scoffed.

"Well, what's the big deal about going on this date?" Changbinin shuffled to the side of the couch.

"I'm nervous, bro… what if she doesn't like me…she doesn't even know it's a date," he said, packing up his headphones.

Changbin was looking at me with a confused look on his face.

"It's someone Grace set me up with," I said, not wanting to get too deep into it.

"Oh, your hot friend Grace," he said with a smile. If only he knew what she looked like, she would eat him alive. "When are you planning to hook me up with her?" he continued.

"I'm not… you're not her type" I mean, I wasn't lying. She liked women.

"You just want her all to yourself," he said, looking down.

"Anyway," I replied, looking at him, "what should I wear? It's a really fancy restaurant."

"Your black suit is stylish."

……

This leads me to "I would really like to offer you a contract" shit, Chan, why are you like this? She just met you, and you are already making a fool of yourself. I couldn't avoid the advice about the stained shirt because she shared her food with me. If I don't take this opportunity now, I'll never meet another sub like her again.

"I'm flattered…but don't you think you should get to know me a bit better first?" again, tucking her loose hair behind her ear.

"I'll be right back." I knew Vanessa always kept hair ties in my car. After a short walk to my car, I found them in the glove compartment. "Perfect," I say, locking my door and returning to the restaurant.

"Here, please….take this hair tie." I could see her eyes light up.

"Oh wow, thank you…I umm forgot to bring mine," she smiled awkwardly.

"My ummm… my ex used to keep them in the car. I forgot they were there until you started struggling with your hair." I smiled, cutting into the stake.

"Well, thank you", she said, doing the same.

She ties up her hair. God, she looks so beautiful with her hair in a ponytail. "I like you with your hair up." I started to blush as she smiled at my compliment.

……

I looked down at my watch and realised it was getting late.

"Well, Chris….I should get going" she reached over and grabbed my hand.

"I'll walk you to the car" I paid for the bill on the way out, walking beside her as I escorted her to her car parked around the corner from the restaurant.

"Thank you for tonight….I assume Grace gave you my number" she laughed as she knew Grace well.

"Yeah, she...textted it to me at dinner", I laughed.

“Well…call me please… I'd love to discuss your proposal" did I hear that correctly, or did she just say she wanted to discuss a contract with me?

I wanted to show her what it would be like to be with me. I tried to kiss her so desperately. However, I was mindful that it might scare her off.

"You can kiss me, Chris", she smiled, placing her hand on my chest. I lift her chin so her eyes meet mine. I move my lips in, now hovering over hers "I will when you sign that contract missy"

Y/N POV

You couldn't believe it, but Grace was right. He was indeed a suitable fit for you. You smile to yourself as he walks off to his car.

Ting Ting

Unknown number

"Meet me at my office on Monday at 9am (address included)....we will discuss the contract terms then - Master."

Y/N

"Yes, sir, I look forward to it."

………

Sunday morning

You wake up to someone banging on your door. "Jesus Christ", you say as you get up and open the door.

"Oh good, you are up," Grace said, walking in. "How did the date turn out with Chris? Isn't he delicious?"

"He is nice", you smile at her as she lets herself into your apartment ", but he's an absolute mess" you continue walking over to take a seat on the couch.

"Look, I know Chan....he was nervous….he is a very sought-after dom in the community….he doesn't look for many submissives.... if he's offering you a contract, I'd be taking it," she said, plonking herself down on the couch.

"What makes him so special?"

"Excuse me….he is the perfect dom…as far as soft pleasure doms go, he's one of the best."

Suddenly, you ask yourself, "Wait, he's a pleasure dom?". It is difficult to come by pleasure doms in the community these days. It is no wonder that he is in such high demand.

"Oh, big time…he hasn't had a sub for over eight months…. I've never seen him so nervous about meeting someone….he must really like you…. When does he want you to discuss the details?"

"Tomorrow," you said, turning towards her. Suddenly you feel nervous. What if you can't please him like he wants.

"Shit, he's working quickly," she said, shocked. "Look, no one knows Chan like me…he wouldn't just ask a girl he met to sign a contract."

"Well? What should I do, Grace?"

"Listen to me….hear him out, okay…do you trust me?" She said, lifting your chin up.

"Yes," you reply, staring into her eyes.

"Good girl," she said seductively.

………

Monday

"Why am I so nervous?" you asked, looking at yourself in the mirror while you curled your hair.

"Okay, Y/N…. You've done this before…just strike out what you're not comfortable with," you talk to yourself as you grab your handbag, ready to exit your apartment.

I walked out of the building, and in front of a black Range Rover was Chris. "Oh good….I was afraid you wouldn't show up", you chuckled.

"So you came to pick me up?" You said, walking over to him.

Chris stepped to the side and opened the car door "after you." What the hell did this man do? He had his own driver.

Sitting in the car with Chris was awkward until he reached over and grabbed your hand, locking his fingers with yours. "You don't have to be a nervous baby girl."

"I can't help it," you said, shaking your legs.

"Spot that," he said sternly, looking directly forward.

As soon as you see Chris, you sit still, looking forward, not speaking for the rest of the drive to his office. "Jyp entertainment," you said, looking surprised.

He chuckled as he opened the door, hopping out.

"Here, allow me to help," he said, extending his hand out to help you.

He locks his fingers with yours and leads you into the building. "I've booked a meeting room for us," he smiled. On the other hand, he had a briefcase. "This way," he smiled, leading you to the elevator.

The doors open, and you step in with him, his hand sliding along your lower back. God, his touch feels so comforting.

You both go up to the 10th floor, and he walks you to the meeting room. You sit as he pours you a cup of water. "Sit....have some water", he commands.

"You're not my dom yet, Chris…..I don't have to listen to you," you say cheekily.

He leans in so he's inches away from your face. "Do you want to repeat that?" He whispered in your ear.

You take a sip of water to appease him. "That's my good girl," he says, placing a soft kiss below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Okay…now shall we get started?" he said, sitting down next to you and opening his briefcase.

He pulled out two contracts. "Let's start with the limits." He says, handing one to you and flicking it open in front of him. "I took the liberty of striking out fire."

"Okay, also animal and age play…strike that out," you say as he glances up at you. "Also put in here…I will not refer to you as anything other than Chan, Chris, Master or Sir."

"Okay yeah, that works for me", he smiles. "Sooooo noooo", and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"No use of the word Daddy", you frown.

"Okay, okay, that's fine with me," he says, putting both hands up.

"What is this down here….am I meant to move in with you?" You say, leaning closer to the paper.

"Oh, uhhhh only if you want to," he says, going to strike it out before he can. You grab his hand a squeeze.

"How about we start with just weekends, okay….besides, I have to work," you grin. Chris looked happy with you making the decision.

……

As time passed and you read deeper into the contract, you became more at ease. Chris read had thought of everything. "How long have you been a master?" You say, trying to spark up a conversation.

"5 years now", he smiles over at you "before that, I was a sub", he looks back down.

"Oh, okay what made you change?"

"My dom….she made me want to become just like her…she was smart, beautiful but had a wicked temper", he chuckled.

"Is that what I can expect out of you?" You pressed your legs together tightly as you got excited about his answer.

"I try my best to be fair….but I will warn you to know…I only give one chance for things before I punish….and I don't take chat back lightly," he smiles. He can tell from your behaviour that you have a bratty side.

"Oh really?….hmmmmm….have you ever tamed a brat before," you say seductively.

"I have…. don't think just because I'm a soft dom, I'll let your attitude slide," he says, still flicking through the contract.

"I wouldn't dream of it, sir" Chris pauses at your use of the word Sir. "I would love to view your house before I sign the contract."

"Of course…do you have time right now?" He said, gripping the paper.

"I actually need to go to work", you smiled. Very convenient timing.

"Perfect, I'll drop you off" this shocked you because, well, you worked at a sex shop and didn't really want him to find out this way.

He escorts you down to the car, opening it and letting you get in first. You give the driver the address, and Chris's eyes widen. "You mean the sex shop on the corner?"

"Yeah, is that a problem?" You giggle at his response.

"Nope….not at all" you could tell he was trying to play it cool.

Your work is about 20 minutes away. You pull up outside the shop, and Chris undies his seatbelt. "What are you doing?" You say, panicking.

"I'm coming in….I want to see….might get some stuff for later when I pick you up."

"Don't you dare" Chris shoots you a look, and you sit back quietly in your seat.

"Let's go," he says, getting out and offering you his hand.

"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes as you hop out of the car.

CHAN POV

"Did she just roll her eyes at me?" I thought to myself. "Careful, Channie.... she's not yours just yet", I repeat as I walk with her to the shop. I would love nothing more than to punish her for how disrespectful she is now, but that will have to wait.

As she walks towards the store, I grab her hand, locking my fingers with hers. She stops for a moment, and then she starts to lead me inside the store. "Good morning, Noah," she says as she enters the store. I glance over at Noah, who is a rather attractive young man. He has long blond hair and bright blue eyes.

"Morning Y/N…. Who's this?" He says, extending his hand to me.

I share it making sure I grip a bit tighter than I usually would.

"This is my friend Chris" she smiles up at me.

Is that all she sees me as a friend? I would love nothing more than to show her what kind of "friend" I am. Y/N walks behind the counter and places her bag under the counter.

She walks back to me "okay, you can leave now" using my index finger, I pull her chin up, "ill pick you up at 5" I lean in and kiss her soft, plump lips. I smile as I pull back. I glance over at Noah, who is in shock.

I walk out of the store and back to the car, "that will show him….. she's all mine," I say to myself as I sit back in the car. "Okay, could we go back to the company," I say, opening my phone.

A/N : thank you all soo much for reading😁 any like reblog or comment is muchly appreciated

Taglist: @9900z @armystay89 @nightrayseishina @jisungiexx

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smuttyassholes · 1 month

Text

To See is to Want 🔞

by Asshole #6

~voyeurism, supernatural, dark, dangerous Jimin, human partner, self- insert, lustful ogling, will eventually be NSFW.~

The moon is full and high in the sky, the sea waves lapping at the shore. There is the slight breeze of September signaling that the summer may be over but it still lingers in the not yet freezing touch of the air. Normally, I would enjoy the beach at night but tonight was not an ordinary night. Tonight I was essentially a stalker. It wasn't my fault not really. But after that one time he had implied that he enjoyed skinny dipping, curiosity burned in my mind. What did he look like under the moon, emerging from the waves, only the dark shape of him visible? And this was the night to find out. There was a bonfire for all the guys at our dorm in the middle of the beach. Everyone had already cleared out at least an hour ago, the sand only littered with a few beach towels some had forgotten.I WAS supposed to be on my way back with my best friend Jen but I waved her off, instead hiding behind some rocks. Waiting. Would he actually be tempted and take a swim now that everyone was gone?

Jimin was sitting by the rapidly decreasing flame, smoking a cigarette. It seemed like forever, waiting, when he stubbed it out rising and towing off his Converse. He pulled his t-shirt off then bent to strip off his jeans.Like he knew he was being watched, he peeled them off achingly slow along with his boxers. I choked on my breath as the long hard lines of his body were revealed, accented by the glow of the dying bon fire, a tattoo barely visible along his spine.Were those the phases of the moon? His ass was even more perfect than I dared imagine, now no longer hidden by the jeans he usually wore on campus. His steps were quick as he walked to the edge of the shore, walking into the dark water, letting it cover all that glorious skin I wasn't even done admiring. I stepped closer, by the bonfire, still able to see him submerge himself completely. I thought he would drown, he was under so long but he rose, silver ringed hands running through his inky dark hair.

Jimin made his way deeper into the ocean, swimming fast and efficiently, enjoying the caress of water on his skin. He dove more than once, his speed increasing. I was curled down on the sand by the fire, mesmerized by him. I knew I shouldn't be watching him like this but he commanded my gaze. My mind. I had wondered over weeks what lay under those clothes and the reality didn't disappoint. I was so deep in my own thoughts of admiration and emerging lust that I missed the man himself emerging from the depths. Except….was he larger? Bulkier? I frowned, trying to understand what I was seeing. As he approached, long fingers with longer nails ran through his black hair, his face more visible. He grinned, full plump lips parting to reveal sharp….fangs? Glinting in the moonlight. Was I hallucinating?

I should get up, I shouldn't be here. I should run. Why couldn't I? His voice, when it came, was a rough hiss, totally unlike the Jimin I had met. I was arrested by the sight of his wet body, the ink adorning his rib cage, the line of his throat when that voice commanded my attention. "It is rude to stare you know." I crawled back just as he knelt bare on the discarded towel by my feet. My voice was a croak as I muttered "I…I wasn't..'' "What, lingering waiting to see me naked? Come on sweetheart. Don't you think I have seen you look at me?" He leaned closer and I could really see those fangs, long and sharp but also his eyes. All black, no pupil. I was terrified and yet still couldn't move. He smelled like the ocean, his wet hair dripping on my shoulder and collarbone. Could he hear my heart hammering? His breath was hot as he whispered in my ear. "Don't you think I can tell…how badly you want a taste? Aren't you afraid?" I couldn't utter a word. Instead, my mouth open and shut a few times, just as he pulled back, my tongue darting out to lick my dry lips. His gaze was fastened to my mouth as I finally shook my head and said "No…" and I heard that same unnatural chuckle that this time made something low in my belly clench in heat.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look at him. Really look. He looked unnatural, dark, something that belonged in the depths of the ocean he had just emerged from. Something that hunts and captures. And devours. Before I realized I had spoken, my voice came.

"I want…a taste. Of you.''

Jimin slowly crawled closer, his mouth inches from mine, his breath hot. The closer he got, the more intense the smell of salt water was to me. I was rooted to the sand, my breathing ragged, my eyes glued to his, occasionally drifting to that full mouth. Had I fantasized about feeling that mouth on mine? Yes. Numerous times in class, alone in my bed. But never in my wildest dreams had I imagined this. That the Jimin that was about to kiss me was…this. I licked my lips just as he stopped, what he said next taking me by surprise "are you sure?" I blinked. "what?" He continued, his voice lower but still the same unnatural timbre as before: monstrous but not really. A hint of my dorm mate still there beneath the surface. "Are you sure it's me you want to kiss? Or that boy you see every day at campus?"

It was as if the fog lifted from my mind as I took my second proper look at him that night. His black hair the only thing that remained exactly the same as before. The rest was completely different. His eyes were still flat black, no pupil, his skin was pale and his hands… his hands had long black talons which was all I could see. Before, I wouldn't have known the answer. But now, as his question drifted between us, it took everything in me to look him solidly in the eyes, holding his gaze and whisper as clear as I could "It's you. Here. Now. Unless…" A perfect eyebrow rose in question as he replied "Unless what?" I flush as I reply "Unless you are just toying with me."

That made him laugh aloud, the sound ringing off the rocks, carried away by the currents and breeze. He reached out, those taloned fingers tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, the touch gentle in spite of his tone earlier. "You'll know if I'm toying with you pet. Trust me." To prove his point, he leaned in his lips finally capturing mine. My eyes closed, immobile, my lips frozen until finally his coaxed them to move. The rhythm I find is something I didn't need to figure out. It comes naturally, my lips parting to let the taste and feel of him flood my senses. My own hands, itching for so long to bury themselves in dark inky hair came to his neck then threaded in the inky strands just as his tongue stroked along mine. I groaned, the taste of the sea somehow stronger, his hands suddenly at my waist almost tentative in their grip, feather-light, a stark contrast to the way his tongue and lips worked me. The heat low in my belly was stoked as Jimin seemed to make up his mind, his fingers tightening on my waist pulling me flush against his chest.

His wet skin seemed to sear mine right through my shirt and bathing suit beneath it, my nipples hardening immediately, embarrassingly so. He growled, his hands suddenly moving snake like down to my thighs pulling me flush on his lap. He must have sensed me stiffen because his mouth drifted to map along my jaw, up to my ear, his voice more rough than before, his breath coming shorter as he whispered "stop?" I immediately shook my head as my fingers did what they had been wanting for all the months I spent ogling Jimin: they burrowed deeper in his wet hair and tugged. The growl that erupted from him was less human and more feral than anything I had elicited from him so far. His fingers hardened, talons almost digging in my flesh as I felt my full weight settle on his lap. I don't know what prompted me to say what I did next but I did anyway. "how about you kiss me like you really want to instead of treating me like I'll break?"

TBC

#bts smut #asshole 6 #asshole 6 writes #jimin smut

52 notes · View notes

supernaturalscribe67 · 5 months

Text

In Plain Sight

Words: 6,968

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Sam/Dean Winchester x Male!Winchester!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, fear of rejection, brothers keeping secrets, Dean being a teasing asshole as always, Supportive family, The Reader's boyfriend is a total himbo

Summary: The reader has been keeping a secret from his brothers his entire life. The reader is gay, and it was something that he had always kept from Sam and Dean in fear of their reaction. What happens when Sam and Dean stumble upon a moment between the reader and his boyfriend? How will they react?

Request:

Hi! Don’t know if your doing requests or not, BUT if you are can you do one where Dean and Sam have an Older brother who is gay and has a boyfriend but hides it because he doesn’t think that Sam and Dean would approve that he like guys and has a boyfriend, and one night where Sam and Dean go out on a hunt and their supposed to be gone for a week but come back early and find their older brother with his boyfriend passed out on the couch with a movie playing

@hpxmcusworld

A/N: Words cannot even begin to describe how sorry I am for taking over a month to get this out. So much has been going on in my life, specifically at work. I could write a twelve-book series about all the drama that has been going on at work. You guys can't even BEGIN to imagine, especially everything that has been happening in the last week. I mean, it's baffling. Regardless, here's the story, finally! I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this!

~ Much love!

(Y/N) laid on the couch in the Men of Letters bunker. A blanket was draped over his body loosely, and the corner of the fabric lay limply on the floor. A box of Kleenex sat on the floor next to the sofa, crumpled-up tissues tossed here and there in a small waste bin placed next to (Y/N)’s head. There was some cheesy medical drama show playing in the background on the television that he was barely paying attention to.

As the show went to commercial break, the sound of a pair of footsteps echoed down the hallway, approaching the open door. (Y/N) glanced up as Sam and Dean appeared in the doorway, their duffel bags slung over their shoulders. Dean peered in and eyed him.

“Hey, man, how’re you feeling?” He asked.

(Y/N) cleared his throat and brought the blanket further up his body, placing it directly under his chin. “Still feel kinda shitty,” he replied, his voice low and scratchy.

“That sucks,” Dean shook his head. “I’m surprised Sammy and I haven’t got anything from you, yet,”

“Honestly, me too,”

“Are you sure you’re okay with staying here while we go on the hunt?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, it’s a simple salt ‘n burn. At least that’s what Garth says. You guys will be alright.”

They both nodded. “Well, we’ll call you when we get there.” Dean gave a brief wave.

(Y/N) smiled softly. “Alright, see you guys later,” he waved at them.

“See ya’.” They spoke in unison as they walked out of the room.

(Y/N) turned his head back to the television, but didn’t listen to the line delivery. Rather, he listened to their steps. He listened as they slowly faded in the distance, followed by the heavy sound of the bunker door opening and closing. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest from anxiety and anticipation. Even with how far he was from the garage, he could still hear the roar of the Impala’s engine. He waited as it gradually softened before disappearing from the vicinity.

When all he could hear was the sound from the medical drama, he broke out into a smile and threw the blanket off of his body, sitting up quicker than he ever had before. He rapidly took out his phone from his pocket and went to his contact list. He dialed the number marked Quinn (Hunter/Cincinnati) and called.

Quinn was a fellow hunter that he, Sam, and Dean had met when they were on the road a little over two years ago after they got wind of a Wendigo in Ohio. What started as a typical hunting partnership turned into a celebration at the bar, which later turned into a night of (Y/N) and Quinn sharing the same bed. Since then, the two of them would text and call each other, asking each other for advice on hunts, getting to know one another, and, on occasion, scheduling a time and place for them to meet up if they were close enough. It was evident months after the two of them began communicating that they started to develop feelings. It wasn’t just casual sex to let out pent-up frustration, there were emotions behind the act, and both of them knew it. Quinn was the one who spoke up first. When prompted with the idea of making their relationship official, (Y/N) was hesitant, but he couldn’t deny the feeling that welled deep inside of him and accepted. Under one condition;

Sam and Dean couldn’t know.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his brothers, or feared they wouldn’t like Quinn. Quite the contrary, he knew they would like him. Quinn’s personality was the perfect mixture of Sam and Dean. A badass flirt with the heart of a big nerd. He would fit right into their group. But there was one big secret that he had been keeping from his brothers his entire life, and he wasn’t yet prepared to make it public.

Sam and Dean didn’t know he was gay.

True, he never outwardly told them he was straight, but he also never attempted to flirt with anyone at the bar in front of them. Whenever they would question him about it (more specifically Dean), he would always brush him off and tell him how tired he was after the hunt. He never lied to them. He was always tired after hunts. Yet he knew, deep down, that wasn’t the only reason why. He would trick himself into thinking he didn’t know the reason behind his hesitancy, but he knew.

He couldn’t blame it on any event in particular, but he understood that his upbringing had a lot to do with his reluctance. With the lack of acceptance he saw from his father on a variety of topics and how influential their father was on Sam and Dean’s views - despite what Sam would say - he was anxious about the way his brothers would react if he came out to them. The worst-case scenario always popped into mind when he considered coming out to them. The idea that they wouldn’t accept him, that they would turn their backs on him, and that was the last thing he wanted. He would rather keep himself closeted for the rest of his life than risk it.

That was why he decided to feign his illness to spend quality time with his boyfriend. He planned to have Quinn spend a couple of days with him, going out with him on different dates, and doing various activities together, and, the day before Sam and Dean would get back, Quinn would head out and be back on the road while (Y/N) would go back to pretending he was in recovery. It was a foolproof plan.

He was sure of it.

*~*

Quinn arrived three hours after Sam and Dean had left. (Y/N) was quick to open the bunker door as soon as the knocking echoed throughout the halls. Quinn had a bright smile on his face. Clad in a loose-fitting plaid shirt, jeans, and combat boots, Quinn stood a couple of inches taller than (Y/N). His black hair was slicked back neatly, just like it was on their first official date, and his beard appeared to have been trimmed recently.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Quinn greeted in his heavy Midwestern accent.

“Hey, glad you made it,” (Y/N) reached a hand up and cupped his cheek gently.

Quinn pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Had to drive around once or twice because I couldn’t find that little makeshift driveway y’all made, but other than that…” Quinn wrapped his arms around his waist.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s supposed to be hidden.”

Quinn smirked. “And you did a damn good job hiding it,” He mumbled before he leaned down, connecting their lips.

(Y/N) chuckled into the kiss, his eyes closing. His heart never failed to flutter every time Quinn kissed him. In a sense, (Y/N) felt the same as he did when he was in high school and had a crush on a boy in his class. Whenever Quinn was near him, holding his hand, and kissing him, he could feel the swarm of butterflies flying around in his gut. It was refreshing to his aging mind to feel as young as he did when he was around his boyfriend.

Quinn was the first to pull away, the smile never leaving his lips as he stared lovingly into (Y/N)’s eyes. He pressed their foreheads together. “So, it’s just gonna be us?”

“Just us for the whole week.”

Quinn hummed and kissed his cheek before he stood up straight. “Why don’t you show me around then? I’ve heard some stories about the Men of Letters here and there, but nothing much. I’m kind of excited to see what they have hidden down here.” Quinn stepped past the threshold and into the bunker.

“God, you sound just like my brother.” (Y/N) mumbled as he shut the door. “Always excited to research everything you find interesting.”

“Sounds like someone I’d get along with then. I’d love to meet him again someday.” Quinn hinted with a raised brow.

“Yeah…some day.”

(Y/N) gestured toward the stairs and began to walk down, Quinn a couple of steps behind him.

“So, you haven’t told them yet.” It was phrased more like a statement than a question. “I thought you would have told them by now.”

(Y/N) sighed as he got to the bottom of the stairs and turned back toward Quinn. “I was going to tell them…at some point. It just…never came up.”

“And, what, this wasn’t a time when it could have been brought up?”

“You know how I feel about telling them, Quinn.”

“I know, darlin’, I know. But we’ve been together for almost two years now. It was fun sneaking around in the beginning, but…” Quinn trailed. “(Y/N), I love you, and I see myself wanting to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter how short it will be, but I don’t want it to be in secret.” Quinn slowly took a couple of steps towards (Y/N) and grasped his hands in his. “I want you to be proud of our relationship,”

“I am proud of us,”

“Proud enough to tell your brothers?”

(Y/N) opened his mouth to reply, but he found it nearly impossible to lie to him. He wanted to say that he was confident enough to tell Sam and Dean. Confident enough to finally tell them what he had been hiding from them for years. Yet there was still that voice in the back of his head convincing him otherwise.

Quinn sighed after (Y/N) failed to answer. “Tell you what? We can talk about it before I leave, okay? How about we use this time to enjoy ourselves?”

(Y/N) glanced down at their hands for a moment. “You won’t be upset if we don’t talk about it right now?”

“No, sweetheart, I won’t. I promise,” he smiled. “I love you too much to stay mad at you for long.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled.

Quinn chuckled. “Now, why don’t you show me around?”

*~*

After giving a brief tour of the bunker, accompanied by some oohs and awes from Quinn, (Y/N) helped him get set up in their shared bedroom. It was exciting. Even though Quinn was only staying for a couple of days, it would be the longest that the two of them had spent together consecutively, and that meant the world to (Y/N). He considered it his first taste of normalcy. A view of the ‘apple pie life’ as his brother called it.

Some would argue that the discovery of the bunker should be considered his first experience with a normal life. He permanently had a roof over his head, a place to call home. But it’s difficult to consider the bunker a ‘home’ in terms of ‘normal’ when his job was hunting. He was surrounded by his job, day in and day out, haunted by the spirits of the men who hunted before him. No, home to him was a two-story colonial, painted blue, with a white picket fence surrounding the front and back yards. Sure, the bunker was safe, and kept the dangers away while they had a chance to relax, but it wasn’t a home. It never felt like a home, not truly. At least, (Y/N) didn’t think that’s what a home should feel like.

Regardless, he had a feeling that, with Quinn by his side for the week, he would get a small glimpse into the reality he could have. A reality where hunting wasn’t a part of his life, where he wasn’t put in harm's way on a day-to-day basis with minimal pay - if you considered credit card fraud and hustling a paycheck. And the mere idea of experiencing such a life, even for a brief moment, sent a level of excitement through him and made him more anxious about the days to come.

For most of the day, Quinn explored the bunker, asking questions about various artifacts placed on display and getting less-than-satisfactory answers from his partner. His main level of interest was focused on the library, and the variety of research material scattered around the aged shelves. (Y/N) thought it was cute how excited he was, and he didn’t mind that his boyfriend’s attention was mainly attached to the bunker and not him. He had Quinn with him for a whole week, and he was thoroughly enjoying himself just by being in the same room as him.

They cooked dinner together that night, a basic pasta recipe one of them found online. Something was satisfying and romantic about the entire experience. In a way, they felt like newlyweds, having their first dinner in the very first house they bought together. It truly was as if they were staring through a lens at a reality they could have, and it was peaceful.

After dinner, the two of them sat in the living room - Dean’s ‘Man Cave’ as he likes to call it - with a movie cued up on the television, blankets covering their bodies, and pillows behind their backs for support. Quinn leaned back against the couch, one leg elevated on the rest of the couch, and one arm wrapped around (Y/N)’s shoulders. (Y/N)’s head rested on Quinn’s shoulder, an arm wrapped around his back, as they watched the movie. A bowl of popcorn sat on Quinn’s lap and the two of them snacked on it occasionally.

Well, more than occasionally.

Quinn reached his hand into the bowl but stopped when his fingertips scraped along the buttery plastic bottom. He looked down and noticed the bowl was empty. The movie was only a quarter of the way over, and he knew that the two of them would need more snacks if they were going to make it the rest of the way.

“Hey, go ahead and pause it. I’m going to go get us some more popcorn.” Quinn gestured towards the TV.

(Y/N) sat up, grabbed the remote, and paused the movie. Quinn grunted as he stood up and stretched his back. A faint pop could be heard. Quinn let out a satisfied sigh as he looked down at his boyfriend.

“Do you want anything? Snacks or a drink?”

(Y/N) hummed. “I put some M&Ms on the top shelf in the glass cabinet. If you wouldn’t mind getting those, that would be great.”

Quinn furrowed his brows. “The glass cabinet? Why the hell did you put them there?”

“Trust me, if you know Dean Winchester, that man can snack,” (Y/N) rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I tried hiding my snacks everywhere in my room, but he always managed to find them. I’m waiting for him to find this stash.”

Quinn chuckled. “Okay, now I know I’ll get along with your brothers.” He turned and began to walk out of the room.

(Y/N) narrowed his eyes and pointed at him. “If you tell Dean about my stash, I’ll kill you.”

Quinn pushed his bottom lip out, held up his free hand in surrender, and wordlessly walked out of the room.

When Quinn left, (Y/N) let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Even when he wasn’t in the room, knowing his boyfriend was in the same building as him made his heart flutter. A smile spread across his lips as he lowered himself onto the couch, lying on his side where Quinn had been sitting. He pulled the blanket closer to his body and let out a surprising giggle. A part of him felt pathetic for acting as such, but the other part adored it. Loved the way that Quinn made him feel. It only made the connection between them stronger, and that made (Y/N) look forward to their time together even more.

It didn’t take long for Quinn to return, the scent of fresh popcorn wafting into the living room. Quinn stopped as he passed through the door. He stared at (Y/N) for a moment before he walked in front of the couch. He held the bowl of popcorn in one hand and (Y/N)’s M&Ms in the other. He gestured down at him.

“I was sitting there,” he smirked.

(Y/N) raised a brow and glanced down at the couch. “Oh, were you?” He questioned, his smirk placed on his face as he snuggled deeper into the cushion.

Quinn deadpanned, head tilted to the side. After hesitating for a couple of seconds, he silently nodded, set the bowl of popcorn and package of M&Ms on the ground next to the couch, and began to climb on top of (Y/N).

“What are you doing!?” (Y/N) exclaimed with an amused, yet startled tone.

“Laying down,” Quinn couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face.

Quinn laid down on (Y/N), blanketing his body with his. (Y/N) groaned.

“You’re so heavy!” He whined.

Quinn laughed. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of (Y/N)’s neck and adjusted himself on top of him. “But you’re so comfy,”

(Y/N) let out a sigh and looked down at Quinn with raised brows. Quinn glanced up at him and gave him a bright, white smile. (Y/N) smirked.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he said as he reached his hand up and began to rake his fingers through Quinn’s soft hair.

“I know,”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Well, here,” he mumbled as he shifted under Quinn’s weight. He adjusted himself so his legs were placed on either side of Quinn’s body, and Quinn was lying comfortably across (Y/N)’s chest and stomach. (Y/N) let out a breath of relief. “There, better. Now you’re not so heavy,” he teased.

Quinn glared at him and stuck his tongue out. He then laid his head on his chest gently, eyes cast towards the television. (Y/N) chuckled, his chest rumbling. He reached down, grabbed the remote, and, before he pressed ‘play’, pressed a kiss to Quinn’s temple.

“I love you,” he spoke softly.

Quinn glanced up at him, as if studying him, for a brief moment before a smile crept across his lips. “I love you, too, baby,”

*~*

The hunt was a bust. What started as a potential salt and burn turned out to be some ghost-hunting TV personality wannabe who wanted her fifteen minutes of fame. The whole thing was a hoax. A waste of time, and a waste of gas. Dean wasn’t too happy about it, but a part of him was glad that he was able to get back to his bed sooner, rather than have his back stabbed by some cheap boxspring. His memory foam mattress sure had him spoiled. Sam, on the other hand, was excited to get back to the bunker to check in on their brother. They hadn’t called him since they left, and he was anxious to see if he was feeling any better. Granted, he didn’t know how well someone could feel in less than twenty-four hours, but he hoped that he would feel even slightly like his normal self.

He had been sick for over a week, after all.

They pulled into the bunker around four in the morning, no doubt thinking the rumbling of the Impala’s engine would wake their brother. Even in the deepest parts of the bunker, it was nearly impossible to miss the sound of the Impala approaching, and Dean thought it was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

“I’m going to have Garth pay me back for all that gas I just wasted,” Dean grumbled as he climbed out of the Impala.

“Don’t,” Sam mumbled. “He didn’t know the hunt was going to be bogus.”

“The article was a week old, Sam, you said so yourself. You would think that he would do a bit more digging before sending us on a wild goose chase,” Dean opened up the trunk and grabbed his duffel bag.

“Dean,”

“And another thing! Do you know how many times I had to stop and get gas?”

Sam sighed, his movements sluggish, showing his evident exhaustion. “Yes, Dean, I know, I was there. Remember?”

“Twice! Garth owes me a hundred and twenty bucks for having to fill up that much because he didn’t give a shit enough to look more into the hunt.”

Sam reached a hand up and ran his thumb and forefinger against his heavy eyelids. “Dean, we’re home, okay? Let’s just go in, check on (Y/N), and go to bed.”

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but closed it, instead, letting his shoulders slump. He found he was too tired to argue. “Fine,” he grumbled, tossed his duffel bag over his shoulder, and wrapped his thumb around the strap.

The two ventured into the bunker, the familiarity, safety, and comfort of it all causing the exhaustion to double down on them. Sam let out a deep yawn as they stumbled down the stairs with heavy steps.

“Where do you think (Y/N) is?” Dean asked, the corner of his mouth opening as he yawned as well.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Probably his room. Probably asleep for the night,”

“Alright, I’ll check in on him. Make sure he’s not dying.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine,” he grumbled.

They walked down the hallway to their respective rooms. Sam wandered into his room, leaving the door open as Dean walked down to his. Sam turned on the lamp from his nightstand and winced slightly at the harsh yellow light. He placed his bag at the corner of his bed and made his way over to the dresser. He was at least thankful for the fact he didn’t use any of the clothes he had packed. Less laundry he would have to do. He kicked off his boots and moved them over to the side of his dresser before he unzipped his duffel bag and began to place all of the clothes he had packed back into their designated spots.

“Sammy!” Dean’s voice echoed through the hall. “He’s not in his room!”

Sam furrowed his brows and glanced towards the open door. “Did you check the bathroom?”

It was silent for a couple of seconds as Sam finished organizing his dresser. Soon, footsteps approached, which caused him to turn back to the door. Dean stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He gestured with his thumb down the hallway.

“He’s not in the bathroom either.” He said.

Sam furrowed his brows and hummed. He ran his hand tiredly through his hair. “He was on the couch when we left. Maybe he’s there.”

“Right, right, I’ll go check.”

Dean pushed himself off of the doorframe and walked away. Sam could practically feel the exhaustion starting to overwhelm him. He was used to staying up for hours on end, especially when it came to necessary research for a hunt. However, with all the driving they did that day, Dean’s constant bickering, and the endless classic rock songs, the day took a lot out of him. It didn’t help that he hadn’t had any caffeine either. He hoped that Dean would be able to find their brother so he could crawl into bed and sleep for an eternity.

As soon as Dean left, Sam took his empty duffel bag and placed it on the floor next to his shoes. He then walked over to his door, closed it gently, and wandered back over to his dresser, where he proceeded to change into his nightwear. Once the jeans and flannel were off his body, he felt a sense of relaxation, and even more tired than he had been before.

Just as he pulled on his sweats, his door swung open. He jumped and turned around, eyes wide. Dean stood in the doorway, a massive grin spread across his lips.

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed. “I was changing.”

“Sorry,” Dean waved him off and shook his head. “Sammy…you gotta come see this.”

Sam walked over to him. “What’s up? Is (Y/N) okay?”

Dean snorted. “Oh, he is more than okay. Now, come on,” he gestured towards himself. “But you gotta be quiet.”

Sam looked at Dean for a moment, brows furrowed, before Dean turned and began to head back down the hallway. Sam followed, the two of them walking silently. Now and then, Dean would glance back at his brother, a child-like glimmer in his eye, the look only causing further confusion.

“Stop looking at me like that, you’re creeping me out,” Sam said with an unsteady tone.

Dean shushed him, placing his index finger against his lips, as they stopped in front of the open living room door. Carefully, Dean took a step into the room and pointed to the couch.

“Look,” he whispered.

Sam stared at Dean before he, too, stepped into the room, peering inside. His eyes landed on the sofa. At the sight before him, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped.

When he first saw the look of giddiness in his brother’s eyes, he didn’t know what he was expecting to find. He was too tired to come up with any type of logical explanation at that point. The last thing he would have predicted, though, something that wouldn’t have even crossed his mind, was the image placed directly in front of him. He would have never guessed he would find his oldest brother with a man lying on his chest, peacefully asleep on the couch.

It took Sam a bit to realize his shocked expression was still on his face. He corrected it and crossed his arms as he slowly edged his way into the room, his footsteps light and quiet. Dean followed after him, his grin never wavering.

“So, I guess he wasn’t sick,” Sam whispered, leaning his body closer to Dean.

“Nope,” Dean whispered a little louder right back. “And you owe me twenty bucks,”

“For what?”

“Remember that bet we made?”

“Which one?”

“The one when we were at the bar in Illinois.”

“What? Six years ago?”

“Yeah! I told you that I bet he was gay.”

“This doesn’t mean he’s gay. He could be bisexual for all we know.” Sam shrugged.

Dean deadpanned. “Sammy, have you ever seen him pick up chicks?”

“Well, no, but-”

“The entire time we’ve known him, have you ever heard about him having a girlfriend?”

“No, but he could just be a private person.”

Dean rolled his eyes and let out a huff. “Well, I know I’m right.”

“How’re you so sure?”

“I’m his brother, I know him.”

“I’m his brother, too, dumbass.”

“Yeah, but you’re the baby. I’ve known him longer.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head. Dean threw his hands up dramatically.

“Why don’t we just ask him?” Dean asked as he walked closer to the couch.

“Dude, he’s sleeping,” Sam hissed between clenched teeth.

“And? It’s almost five o’clock. He needs to wake his ass up and introduce us to his boyfriend,”

Sam opened his mouth to say something else but found it difficult in his drained state. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head as he watched Dean move to the end of the couch where (Y/N)’s head rested. Dean went to say something but stopped himself. He quickly reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and took a picture of (Y/N) and his mystery man. Dean chuckled deeply, chest rumbling.

“Real mature,” Sam mumbled.

“Oh, come on, I need it for blackmail later,” Dean replied, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Dean leaned back down, placing his hands on his knees, as he got closer to (Y/N)’s face. “(Y/N),” Dean said in a quiet singsong voice. “(Y/N),” he sang a little louder.

(Y/N) hummed.

“Time to get up, buddy,” Dean couldn’t resist the smirk that appeared.

“Five more minutes,” (Y/N) grumbled and turned his head away from his brother.

“(Y/N)!” Dean exclaimed, loud enough for his voice to reverberate off the walls.

(Y/N) jumped, eyes wide open, staring directly at Dean and Sam, filled with weariness and confusion. Dean stood up and backed away from him. He gave a small wave while Sam shot him a sympathetic look. (Y/N)’s gaze quickly shifted between his brothers as he blinked rapidly to wake himself up. He tried to sit up but remembered the heavy weight on his chest. He looked down at Quinn’s sleeping form. For a hunter, (Y/N) had to admit, Quinn was a heavy sleeper. He slapped Quinn on the shoulder.

“Quinn,” he said.

Quinn whined.

“Quinn,” he hissed.

“Couple more minutes, babe,”

(Y/N) closed his eyes and pressed his lips together tightly, trying to will away the red tinge that fought its way onto his cheeks. He slapped Quinn’s shoulder again, a little harder that time.

“Get up!”

Quinn groaned and opened his eyes. “What?” He looked up at (Y/N).

(Y/N) looked at him and gestured towards his brothers. Quinn turned his head and, immediately, his brows shot up, and he appeared more alert than ever. He sat up from his position on top of his boyfriend and scrambled to sit on the couch next to him.

“Oh, um,” Quinn cleared his throat as he situated himself on the couch, forearms resting on his knees, hands folded together.

(Y/N) sat up slowly, his body still riddled with sleep but progressively gaining a new feeling of anxiety. Of fear. He felt like a child that was caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Despite the looks on his brothers’ faces, which preached the opposite of how he was feeling, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the worst-case scenario. He was convinced, at that moment with his brain fogged with interrupted slumber, that he had just spent his last night in the bunker.

“So…” Dean trailed before he gestured to Quinn. “Who’s this?”

(Y/N) looked over at Quinn before he cast his eyes down to the ground. “Um…” he paused, his mind racing, trying to think of an excuse. Trying to think of a lie that would sound convincing. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, nothing he thought of would work. His brothers would see right through it.

Quinn watched (Y/N) and noticed how much he struggled with getting the words out. He licked his lips and sat up. “I’m Quinn, I’m his-”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“I mean, I would hope he’s your boyfriend. I think the way you guys were practically sleeping inside each other was a bit too much for just friends,” Dean replied and chuckled.

Sam sighed. “Dean, don’t be an ass.”

“I’m just saying,” Dean shrugged.

(Y/N) huffed before he slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “You know what, it’s too early for this. If you’re going to yell, go ahead and yell. Just get it out of your system. I’ll just go ahead and start packing,” (Y/N) turned to leave the room. Quinn was quick to stand.

The smile vanished from Dean’s face for the first time since he discovered the two. “Hey, hey, hey, woah, woah,” Dean rushed over and gently grasped his brother’s arm to stop him. “Packing? Why?”

(Y/N) halted and turned to his brother. “I just…I figured-”

“What? That we would kick you out?”

(Y/N) pressed his lips together and looked down. Dean’s frown deepened as Sam padded closer to them.

“(Y/N),” Sam began. “We would never kick you out because of that. All because you have a boyfriend?”

“Wait, so…” (Y/N) furrowed his brows as he fully turned his body so he was facing Sam and Dean. “You guys don’t care that I’m gay?”

Dean immediately smacked Sam’s shoulder. “See? Told you! You owe me!”

“Okay, okay, hold on,” (Y/N) ran his hands down his face and shook his head. He suddenly felt a strong, warm arm wrap across his shoulders. He glanced up to see Quinn standing by his side, holding onto him. A comforting smile was on his face. (Y/N) then looked back at his brothers. “You bet on me being gay?”

“I said that you were gay. Sammy over here didn’t believe it for a minute.” Dean said smugly.

“It’s not that I didn’t believe it. We just didn’t have anything to go off of.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“I knew from the moment he turned that hot blonde down at the first bar we went to,” Dean nodded.

“Yeah, right,”

“I did! She was hot! He would have been stupid to turn him down if he was straight, which he isn’t.”

“He could have also had a type Dean.”

“Type my ass, that girl was everyone’s type,”

While his brothers bickered in front of him, (Y/N) watched them, mouth agape. Next to him, Quinn chuckled. He pressed a soft kiss to (Y/N)’s temple.

“How’re you feeling?” He whispered in his ear.

(Y/N) looked at him for a second before he stared back at his brothers, mouth still open, words seemingly unable to form. He was too in shock to think of anything to say. He was so busy convincing himself that his brothers would negatively view him after he came out to them that he never took into consideration the possibility of them being supportive. It was then he began to think of all the things they had supported him in through the years. They were always with him, always had his back, and he always had theirs. Sure, they had their fights, they had their moments, but they always came back together. They always talked it through.

In the end, he felt like a fool for thinking they would kick him out.

“Look, I need to ask something,” Sam chimed up, his attention now turned towards his eldest brother.

(Y/N)’s eyes flickered up at him. He closed his mouth, feeling that it had gone dry.

“(Y/N), what did we do to ever make you think we would kick you out? And, whatever it is, I’m sorry that we came across that way.” Sam continued.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, we never meant to do anything that made you think you couldn’t tell us.”

(Y/N) hesitated. “No, no, you guys, you guys didn’t do anything, um…it’s just…I…” Again, he was struggling to find the words to describe his thought process.

“He was projecting his own insecurity onto the situation,” Quinn said, nodding.

(Y/N) ran his tongue over his teeth and pursed his lips. He looked up at Quinn and gave him a tight smile. “You know, Quinn, that couch was pretty comfy, right?”

Quinn furrowed his brows at the statement. “Uh, yeah, I guess it was?”

“Would you like to sleep on it for the rest of your visit?”

Dean snorted and Sam pressed his lips into a thin line to hide the grin he was holding back.

“Uh, nope, no, I’m okay,”

“That’s what I thought,” (Y/N) shook his head and turned to his brothers. “No, guys, you didn’t do anything wrong. I guess…I don’t know, with the way that Dad was with us growing up, a part of me was afraid that that part of him would have rubbed off on you guys. I was severely overthinking it and I let the fear of what Dad would think overshadow how you guys truly are.” (Y/N) then looked back up at Quinn. “Was that a good way to describe it? Since it seems like you’re my shrink now?”

“That was wonderfully put, babe,” Quinn grinned widely.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes.

Sam chuckled. “Hey, I get it, okay?” Sam smiled comfortingly. “I wish that you would have told us sooner, but I’m glad we know now. Just know that we still love you, (Y/N), no matter who you date.”

“Unless you were dating a demon,” Dean interjected. “Or Crowley. Crowley is off limits.”

“Crowley isn’t my type anyway, so you don’t have to worry about that,” (Y/N) chuckled. “My type is more of a Midwest-Country hunter.” (Y/N) wrapped an arm around Quinn’s middle.

Quinn looked down at him with a small smile on his face. A couple of seconds ticked by before a look of realization crossed his face. “Oh! You mean me!”

(Y/N) deadpanned. “A Midwest-Country hunter who’s also an idiot at times.”

“But I’m your idiot.”

“Unfortunately,”

“Hey!”

“You guys are so cute,” Dean paused. “Makes me want to throw up.” He grimaced.

“So, wait, you’re a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Yeah! We met two years ago. I joined you guys on a hunt in Ohio. Columbus?”

Sam and Dean looked at each other before they both shook their heads.

“Sorry, man,” Dean said. “We see a lot of hunters while we’re out, and two years is a long time.”

Quinn waved him off. “I get it, don’t worry.”

“Only gives us more of a reason to get to know you,” Sam mumbled before a yawn erupted from his mouth. “But not tonight. How long are you staying for?”

“About a week,” Quinn shrugged. “If that’s alright, of course.”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries man. As long as you stay the Hell out of my room,” Dean fought back his yawn.

“Noted.” Quinn chuckled.

“Alright, well, it was nice meeting you, again, but we’re hitting the hay. The drive back was brutal.”

“Why are you guys back so early anyway? You never said anything.” (Y/N) asked.

“Well, you see, Garth-” Dean began.

Sam placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, pushing him towards the door. “We’ll explain when we get up. We need to get to bed and I don’t need to hear him complain anymore tonight. He’s been doing it all night.”

“Hey, I have not complained all night.”

“All night he has done nothing but complain.”

“I have not!”

Sam and Dean squabbled as they shuffled out of the room, their voices echoing down the hall. (Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face as he listened.

“Goodnight!” He hollered once their voices started to soften.

There was a pause before both brothers simultaneously shouted, “Goodnight!” back.

(Y/N) snorted and shook his head. Suddenly, he felt Quinn wrap an arm around his waist, pulling his body close. (Y/N) turned and tilted his head to look up at him. Quinn rested his forehead against (Y/N)’s, their noses brushing against one another.

“Is it too late to say ‘I told you so’?” Quinn asked in a quiet, low voice.

(Y/N) pursed his lips in thought. “Well, it’s not too late for you to still sleep on the couch.”

Quinn snorted, his chest rumbling with his chuckle. “You love me too much to do that.”

“I guess,”

“You guess?” Quinn asked, his hands moving from (Y/N)’s back to his stomach. “You guess?”

(Y/N) tried to jerk away, but found that Quinn had a strong grasp on him. “Quinn,” he warned.

“You guess?” Quinn repeated before his fingers began to dance over (Y/N)’s stomach.

(Y/N) tried to stifle the laughter that was bubbling up inside his throat, but it was all to no avail. His attempts to move away from Quinn were futile as the laughs echoed in the room. Quinn had a goofy grin on his face.

“Quinn, stop!”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes!”

“Say it!”

“Dammit! I love you, you idiot!”

As soon as (Y/N) spoke, the tickling seized. The laughter died down and Quinn wrapped his arms around (Y/N), pulling him into a tight embrace. He began to litter (Y/N)’s face with kisses.

(Y/N) grimaced. “Stop it!” He whined, smiling.

Quinn let out a content sigh, pressing a final kiss to his temple. “I’m proud of you, you know that?”

“What?”

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

Quinn pulled back so that he was able to look his boyfriend in his eyes. “For telling your brothers. For letting yourself be vulnerable like that. Now that’s the man I want to be with. The strong, badass, sometimes vulnerable hunter that is confident in himself. I can already see a change in you as soon as they told you they accepted you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

(Y/N) tilted his head to the side and looked up deep into Quinn’s eyes with much love and adoration. He leaned up and gently pressed a kiss against his lips. Quinn closed his eyes and kissed him back immediately. For the first time in a while, (Y/N) felt sparks as they kissed, as if they were kissing for the first time all over again. It made his chest flutter and his stomach stir with butterflies. It reinforced the idea that Quinn loved him, and he loved Quinn. They were with each other through thick and thin. Quinn was, indeed, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

As they parted, they stared longingly into each other’s eyes, the passion never waning as Quinn reached a hand up to caress (Y/N)’s cheek.

“What do you say we go back to your room and cuddle? It’s still pretty early,” Quinn suggested.

“I like that idea. But no more sleeping on top of me.”

“Aw, come on, but you’re so comfy. How about we take turns? Now you can sleep on top of me.”

(Y/N) smirked. “It’s a deal.”

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year

Note

Hullooo if you are still requests can i ask for a dramatic fight into lets make out afterwards in secret please

Have a nice day night and i love your writing 💖💖

“Do you have a visual?” The hero panted so hard they thought they were going to throw up.

“No,” they wheezed into their communicator, clawing their weapon. They felt like they would lose their voice and consciousness sooner than anticipated. “I have nothing.”

“Fine. Keep going,” their superior ordered, cutting the line quickly. Of course the hero had been in the field countless times. They were experienced more than most heroes. But they had underestimated the villain. The villain they usually bickered and flirted with.

They hadn’t known that their favourite conversationist was also this strong. What a terrible way to find out.

Obviously, the villain was an asshole and the hero did not like them. But they had to admit that there was more to them than the label villain.

The hero wasn’t terribly hurt — not yet — but they could tell it was only a question of time. There was no reinforcement. Their enemy was ruthless. They were completely alone. It was unfair in a sense but the hero also knew their duties. They couldn’t complain now, they knew what it was.

When they finally found the courage to leave their hideout, they wanted to gulp at the plain sight of the city’s district. Ash was in the air, smoke rose from the buildings, cars were afire.

It was like the whole city was dipped into fog.

And they couldn’t even last a second without being attacked.

It knocked the air out of their lungs right away when the villain managed to kick them to the ground. The hero rasped out of pain, holding the pulsing side of their torso the villain had violated.

“They’re sending the pretty ones now, are they?” the villain purred lovingly as they loomed over them. “What a waste.”

“I’m gonna—” a cough “—stop you.”

“Cute.” They bent down, wiping a bit of blood from the hero’s cheek. “I’d like to see you tr—”

It wasn’t the hero’s best idea but it was worth a shot. They were exhausted. They couldn’t fight ten different villains in one week anymore. They didn’t like working without seeing the end of their shift.

So they grabbed the villain. Yanked them on top of them. And kissed them.

When they thought about this moment the following weeks, the embarrassing realisation conjured that they might have done it because they were lonely and touch-starved. They hadn’t held another human in months. They felt so pathetic.

It came as a surprise though how quickly the villain was willing to drop their violent behaviour. At first they were evidently confused, moaning some blurred version of the hero’s name into their enemy’s mouth but still being inexplicably compliant.

They let them kiss them more times than innocence should allow. It was way too intimate to be just a distraction. Maybe the hero didn’t want this to be true but they truly needed this. They needed contact, they needed a pause.

The hero could feel their cheeks burn.

However, a sharp pain shot right through them when the villain grabbed the side of the hero’s stomach they had kicked.

Instantly, the hero tensed and hissed as their enemy’s fingertips ghosted over the forming bruises.

“Fuck—” They accidentally bit into the villain’s bottom lip and they dreaded everything might be over soon and they would actually not get out of this alive. But the villain only grinned.

“You’re adorable.” They squeezed the hero’s flesh again, shooting nausea through their enemy’s entire body. “So cute when you squirm.”

“Asshole,” the hero hissed but it only made the villain hum contently. When they went in for another kiss, they were gentler, avoiding the hero’s stomach and concentrating on their throat.

“You got stronger,” the hero whispered. The villain was on the best track to suck some hickeys into the hero’s skin. It was insane how all of this had happened so fast. In one moment the hero was close to death and now…

“Maybe,” they murmured. “Maybe I did.”

Their hand closed around the hero’s throat gently, holding them in place without much force. It was farcical how good the villain was at what they were doing. They must’ve had a lot of lovers.

The hero felt a bit helpless with a thought like that ghosting around the back of their mind.

“Is it a new strategy?” the hero asked, rather out of breath.

“Don’t fucking do this,” the villain warned softly. Their voice was deep enough to send a shiver down the hero’s spine. “Don’t try to get information out of me now. My brain isn’t working very well and I love this moment way too much to let it be ruined by you.”

The hero blinked.

When their enemy didn’t answer, the villain looked up.

“Got it, love?” they asked.

“Yes — yes, of course.”

#nauuuur #I think I kinda missed the point of the ask hggg #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #an answer for an ask #request #suggestive

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fandxmslxt69 · 6 months

Text

Daisy (modern, small town AU)

mechanic!Frank castle x f!sunshine!reader

Warnings: Frank's an asshole lmao. UM me making up shit as I go about cars (i dont know enough abt them okay). Um, Frank works at an automobile shop/garage (he owns it more like but whatever). WRITTEN IN LIKE 3 HOURS AND AN IDEA THAT WAS BIRTHED THIS MORNING. Some swearing, lazy descriptions, probably HORRIBLE structure but idc idc idc.

Synopsis: You just moved to a small town, and just your luck, your car breaks down after a few errand runs. You have no choice but to go to the town's official Mr. Grumpy (Frank) to ask for help.

Word count: 1.8k (WHOOPS)

A/N: BAHAHAH SO THIS WAS BORN LIKE THIS MORNING/LAST NIGHT and i could NOT get the idea out of my head so I had to do SOMETHING about it. Yeah, there'll probably be more to this but FIRST, i have to go study after putting it off to finish this. SORRY IT MIGHT BE SOOO FUCKING OOC AND CRINGE BUT I WAS TOO LAZY TO WRITE IT PROPERLY! this is kind of just a set up/build up bit it gets BETTER promise promise anyway was this just me reading like 10 small town romances and going "all of them, but with Frank?" yeah basically, you're welcome.

Tags: YEAH um @soft-girl-musings its kinda your fault for encouraging me (im kidding ily) and um @runa-falls cuuuz yknow you <3 and Frank <3

Imagine a modern AU in a small little town where Frank owns the only garage there. It’s just a small happy town with a little community that grew up with each other- everyone knows Frank as Mr Grumpy- he’s always got that frown and those eyebrows knitted together in annoyance.

Imagine you’re new in town and you feel just a bit out of place in this tightly knitted community. You try to make some friends, but it’s hard fitting into already tight social circles.

Imagine your car breaking down on your way home from a grocery run. The front of smoking and its making weird jumbling and rumbling noises. You leave the car quickly, not wanting to be inside of it in case something goes wrong. You’re nowhere near your house, and the cute sandals you’re wearing are in no shape to walk the rest of the way. You really don’t want to barge into a random shop and ask for help. But you notice, a little far from the rest of the shops in town, a little store with an ugly neon sign that said GARAGE in big, flickering red letters. You sigh heavily, making sure to grab your keys from the car, along with your purse and phone, lock it, and start walking towards the shop.

Imagine walking into the little automobile shop to find it pretty much deserted. The walls were lined with different tires, tools and various car parts lined the little room with a small area left unlittered for the cash register. And yet, there was no one to man the station. You walk around, feeling hopeless, until you hear voices coming from behind the door at the back of the room.

Imagine walking through the door hesitantly into a big garage, and you’re greeted with the sight of a gorgeous shirtless man in loose jeans stained in grease stains. He’s bent over a car and wiping the windshield while a radio beside him blasts some country tunes. You stood in the doorway, mouth hanging slightly open at the sight. Who could blame you? His hair looked so soft, and from what you could see, his face was probably just godly. He looked heavenly,and he clearly didn’t hear you come in from how loud the music was. You clear your throat lightly, clutching the strap of your purse tightly. “Um, excuse me-” you say as quietly as you can, not entirely sure you want to draw his attention. Yet somehow he still hears you. His eyes snap up to meet yours and the look of peace on his face immediately transforms into a look of permanent annoyance.

Shit. He does have a pretty face. A sculpted jawline and a little stubble lined his jaw. Pretty eyes too.

Imagine the way his eyes would roam over you. Your hair held back in a little ponytail, your short blue sundress with daisies that barely just reaches your thighs. The way his pretty lips would set in a hard line and his jaw clenches, and while his eyes take in your pretty look, the way that dress rides up your thigh whenever you take a step, you can see his jaw tick and the frown lines forming.

“Yes?” He said slowly, one eyebrow raised.

“Um,” You shuffled a bit, carefully stepping into the garage, but making sure to keep a distance from him and the car. “Um, my uh, my car broke down, and I kind of need help,”

He wipes his hands on the towel tucked into the pocket of his jeans, walking around the car to stand in front of you. Well, more like tower over you. He was, to put it simply, enormous. At least 6 foot something with broad shoulders and a deliciously sculptured and defined chest. His muscles weren’t the pretty boy skinny things you’d see at the gym- his biceps looked big enough to crush a man’s skull, and his chest looked comfy enough to use as a pillow.

He clears his throat, and you realise you missed a question. You look up (practically STRAINING your neck) to meet his eyes. He definitely looks frustrated. Maybe he's annoyed that he has to repeat himself.

Imagine how mean he’d be about it- he doesn’t mean to be rude, or to come off as an asshole. He definitely didn’t mean to act as if your lack of knowledge in this situation bothered him. Normally he didn’t care, but the way you looked up at him with big worried eyes and the anxious fiddling of your hands just…ticked him off. He certainly doesn’t mean how condescending his tone is, but he just can’t help it. Pretty girls fucked him in the head.

“What’s wrong with your car, doll?”

You fiddled with a strand of your hair. “Um, I don’t actually know,” He lets out an annoyed grunt, running a hand down his face. “Where’d it stop?” “Um, just a little back,” You pointed behind you. “Not too far. I don’t know, it started smoking and making weird noises. Assumed it was bad, so I came here,” He shakes his head, throwing the towel in his hand to the side and grabbing a shirt from one of the chairs. “Yeah sweetheart, that is very bad,”

“Okay well, I figured,” You hesitated. “Can you uh, can you fix it?” “Depends,” He grunted, pulling the shirt over his head. He’d walk past you out front to grab his truck keys from the cash desk, making a couple more caveman noises to indicate that you should follow him.

Imagine getting to his truck and you stand there awkwardly because there’s no fucking way you could get in there. It’s too high up, and you sure as hell can’t just jump into it. You throw your purse in, brace your hands on the door, and try to lift your leg high enough to reach the step.

Imagine Frank getting so fucking pissed when your dress rides up to barely even cover the curve of your ass and he just places his (very big, very warm) hands on your waist and hauls you up, firmly sitting you on the chair and slamming the door shut.

Imagine how the short drive to where your car stopped is just filled with really awkward silence as you clutch your purse to your chest. Frank's got the radio on, an arm hanging out the window, but his other hand on the steering wheel is holding it so tightly his knuckles are turning white. And he looks almost calm, if not for the way he’s clenching his jaw so hard you think he might shatter his teeth.

You pull up to your car, and Frank whistles quietly as he gets out of his truck and walks over to examine it. “What d'ya do to this thing?”

You practically hopped out of the truck, frowning. “Nothin’! I didn’t even do anything. I was just driving back home and it broke down,”

“Well ya must’ve done somethin’ if she broke down this bad,” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Can you open the front?”

“What if it like- explodes on you? What then?” You ask horrified. That’s a horrible impression to leave on someone.

“Not gonna explode, now open the damn front,”

You nod hesitantly, unlocking the car to open up the front. He tries to blow away the smoke with his hand, but it’s really no use. “Yeah, might need to take it back to the garage,”

“But-” You felt your bottom lip wobbling. How could everything go to shit so fast. “I need to get home!”

Despite how grumpy Frank wanted to stay, he can’t help soften when it’s clear how panicked you felt. He knew you were the newest person in town, and he also knew he’d have everyone on his ass if he didn’t try and help a little more.

But he’s still gonna be an ass about it. “I’ll drive you back to your house and send someone for your car, no need to cry ‘bout it, doll,”

You nod hesitantly, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay. Okay, thank you,” And then you smiled this shy, grateful smile at him and he felt like the air was knocked right out of his lungs. You were gorgeous, he knew that, but looking at you now he felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. You looked….cute. And he wanted to keep that smile on your face. Shit. Imagine Frank realising just how fucked he is, having to help such a cute and pretty girl out, he’d just shut himself off even more. His frown deepens and he only communicates in grumbles and grunts as he drives you back home and calls someone to come pick up your car. He only holds out his hand to ask for your keys- not even uttering a word, just holds out those really sexy hands. He just sits in his truck with his arm out the window as you hop out of the seat and make your way up your porch. He feels so screwed. Even your house looked cute.

“Thank you,” You call out to him.

He raises a hand in return and then he pulls out from in front of the house and drives back to his shop.

You falter a bit, feeling a tad stung at how shut off he is. Maybe not everyone is as open as you were, but he could have at least smiled. You sigh, walking into your house and dropping your purse at the door. You discard your shoes, and head to the kitchen to grab a couple snacks and collapse on the couch, feeling overall exhausted and drained from the whole day. Maybe you won’t have to see Grumpy for another few days- just so you could cool down.

The landline rings a few minutes after, and you frown. Who the hell would have the landline’s number? You get up and answer the phone. “Hello?” “Hey daisy, it’s Frank. You left your groceries in the car,” Frank’s voice fills your ear (god he sounds so…so hot)

Your eyes widen and you gasp in shock. “Fuck, I did!”

He hums in response. “Yeah. Bet you need those, don’tcha?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I kind of do,”

There’s commotion from Frank’s side, it sounds a lot like someone yelling at him. He sighs heavily. “Alright daisy, I’ll figure somethin’ out f’r you,” And then he hangs up.

Daisy? Figure it out? And why was it so oddly comforting to know he could handle this without you needing to worry?

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #the punisher #jon bernthal

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negansbackdoorwhore · 1 year

Text

Point Proven

Requested by @phoenixiza

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, swearing

This asshole walked around everywhere like it’s his and yet he just did things to you. And of course he knows very well about the dirty things you have in mind. Eventually all his attention shifted towards the newest wife. A part of you felt relieved not having to deal with his ass getting too close for comfort and having to hear his nicknames he would call you. The other part was becoming a green eyed monster. His hands that held her waist were meant for your body not hers. And how he would coo sweet things in her ear causing her stupid ass to giggle. That should be you not fucking her. He used to give you that attention but you didn’t fold so easily for him. You felt he needed to do more for your affection. But with her around, it was like he just tossed you aside. It was obvious toward everyone how you felt about the situation.

You decided to go bother your husband for a quick talk by randomly going to his room. It would piss him off but you felt it was deserved for the way he made you upset. Upon opening the door, you peeked in to see the new girl in his lap. The sight made you extremely jealous and to see him kissing her only made it worse. They were both to wrapped up in each other to notice the door, so you just shut it quietly.

“What’s got you down?” You look to see Simon leaning against the adjacent wall.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. I can see right through you. You miss his attention.”

“You don’t know anything.” You scoffed.

“Whatever you say. But only way to teach him a lesson is to find someone else.”

You immediately understood Simon’s words. If you wanted to get him back or just make him feel like shit, flirt with his right hand. So next time opportunity struck, you gave a little look when Negan and Simon were leaving. Automatically Negan assumed that look was for him but when he walked closer and pecked your cheek, you rolled your eyes.

“Bye Simon.” You say in a different tone that had Negan mumble something as he walked away. No doubt it was already getting to him especially since Simon winked in your direction. You pretended to let out a girlish giggle and saw Negan scowl. Throughout the week it continued like this and what makes it better is that Negan was ignoring his new wife. She was pouting all over the lounge to your pleasure.

“Sweetie it’s going to fine. Negan tends to be like this sometimes, all his attention on you then it shifts.”

“I could care less! He was all over me last week, now it’s just a few greetings and no affection.” She said with an angry tone and you decided to keep the amusement to yourself. You watched her storm out of the lounge and got a quick look of Simon passing the opened doors. You left the room and poked his arm.

“Hey you.”

“So? How’s Negan?”

“Trying to hide his emotions but so far not going well.”

You laugh at how childish the leader can be and he walked you to your room. You stop at the door and Simon sees Negan at the end of the hallway with Lucille on his shoulder.

“Play along.” He said just above a whisper. You didn’t expect the motion when his hand rested along the wall near your head and you understood what he was doing. Your back leaning onto the wall and you smirk at him.

“You always look so damn good sweets.”

“Well I try my best. It’s nice to get some attention around here.” Your fingers playing with the ends of your hair and Simon smiling at you.

“Si! Get your ass down to the courtyard!” Without hesitation Simon left you and Negan made a straight line toward you. “Get inside there. Now.”

He said in a firm tone and you go to open the door and you felt him pushing on your lower back. As the door shut you were prepared for whatever he had to say or what he was going to do. Not even a word was said once you heard Negan toss off his leather jacket. That was when he was roughly pulling you into a hard kiss. You groaned at first contact and how he pushed you onto your twin bed.

Without thought you hand was brought across his cheek to hear a smack sound. His eyes widened and you were still pinned beneath him. There was no sound except the breathing between you two, as soon as your lips parted Negan got up. He grabbed his jacket along with Lucille leaning on the wall and slammed your door shut.

You couldn’t think straight with the encounter you just experienced as you were eating dinner. Through dinner you stayed quiet and decided to skip eating for the night. You left the mess hall and started walking around the empty halls. You stop midstep as Negan was entering his quarters and wanted to go to your room, or to accompany him. You decided to see him and walked in front of his door.

“Can I come in?” There was no answer and you took the initiative to open the door. You stepped in to see Negan lying shirtless against his bed. His eyes still shut and you walk closer.

“I didn’t say you could come in.”

“How would I know if you didn’t answer.” He scoffed at you but you had your arms crossed while looking at him.

“What’s your problem? What the hell was that shit earlier?” Negan opened his eyes and leaned up to look at your body still standing tall.

“You need a fucking reminder Y/N. I give you all kinds of special shit because you are my wife. I give you the privilege of staying here sitting on your pretty ass while I am out there keeping shit up.”

“First of all…”

“I am not done talking!” He yelled and you stopped your quick mouth from saying something to piss him off.

“Look here, I chose you for a reason. I like your attitude and shit. But you kept on pushing me away so I fucking left you alone like you fucking wanted. But now you’re out here moving your precious ass like you own this joint by daring to flirt? Don’t you remember you cannot cheat on me?”

“I remember just fine.”

He was wearing this scowl on his lips and just then he roughly grabbing you to pin onto the couch. You didn’t fight him this time as your eyes were locked.

“Then why do you feel the need to be hitting on Simon?”

“Because maybe you’re being to distracted by someone else.” You hated that you just spilled out how you really felt but he probably wouldn’t have figured it out since he can be dense sometimes.

“So? You’re acting all put out because I was giving dick to someone who wasn’t you?” You refuse to answer and turned your head away.

“Act like that all you want. But I am going to get an answer.” You scoffed while he started to get busy with his hands shoving up thr hem of your dress. You shut your eyes and thought about whatever could keep your mind off him. But the touch of his rough hands made you feel things. He hands caressed the top of your thigh and his lips connected to your neck. It was torture with how you were hiding how good this felt and yet you wanted your point proven.

Negan saw you still unresponsive and picked up the pace by his fingers moving to your inner thigh and toward the center of your panties. You bit your inner cheek as his fingers were now sliding against in a slow motion. You tried and tried but once he went beneath the material to touch your wet sex, your mouth opened to let out a noise.

“I know you can’t resist this.” He said with a light chuckle and teased your clit. You turned to face him and he looked pleased to see you giving in.

“You’ve been dying to have me touch you like this. Am I right?”

“Yes.” You whimpered out and felt him pulling away from you. He smirks at you as he tugs your underwear to come off. He slides them slowly off your legs until they tossed on the floor. You bit your lip as he pulling your legs to hang off the couch and had himself kneeling in front of you. His eyes focused on you before his tongue stuck out to lick you.

It made your breath hitch and that encouraged him to full bring his mouth against you. The feel of it made your thighs go tight on his head but he easily held them apart. He moaned against you as he sucked your sweet pearl between his lips. You moaned at how good he worked your pussy and grabbed onto the couch cushions.

It was getting harder as his tongue was flicking against you and had his moans vibrated against you. You were getting closer to coming against his mouth but he pulled away. Your breathing was heavy and he was smiled as he licked his lips. You whined and wiggled your hips for him to continue.

“Oh? You want to come don’t you?”

“Yes, Negan please!”

“I don’t think so. You’ve been a tease for a while and the fact you were flirting with someone else isn’t going to just be forgotten.” You whined as he scooted up and kissed your lips. His kiss captured all your breath and made you flush against his body.

“You are most certainly adorable. I want see you like this more often.”

“Stop teasing, I need come already!” You pouted and he just kept wearing a smug grin.

“Not yet. You’ve been really pushing it, you seem to forget who owns you.”

“You do. I said it, now please just keep going!” Negan clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“That ain’t enough baby.” You were then pulled to sit up and Negan took advantage of your vulnerability by putting you into his lap. Your hands were shaky as they rested on his chest and he looked you up and down.

“How about you start taking off this dress? You won’t be needing it.”

You groaned as you wanted to bring your center down against his lap but he moved his hands to keep you in place just hovering over him.

“Bad girl. Stay up and take off that dress.” His fingers squeezed your skin and you lifted it above your head. Your body exposed and only a bra to cover your chest but Negan immediately went to tug at your straps.

“All of it off.” He whispers and you unhook your bra and it let it fall off to hit his lap. The feeling of the air on your skin gave you goosebumps.

“Oh shit! Look at this, being completely exposed and seeing your pussy all wet just for me. It makes me feel all kinds of things!”

His eyes focusing on your pussy and seeing him biting his lip made you shudder. He pulled you closer to tease your body with the flick of his tongue. Your chest moving to press further on his lips and he had closed his eyes to concentrate on sucking your nipples. He hummed and held you in place when you started to squirm.

“C’mon Negan. I need to come.” You say as your fingers dig into his shoulders.

“Not until you understand who you belong to baby.” He muttered and looked up at you with his dark pupils.

“I do understand dammit!” You huffed out and feeling the frustration of incompletion. He couldn’t help his laughter as he moved his hand to run up your side and back down to your thigh. Your mouth hung open as he lingered close toward where you needed but he moved his hand away. It was then you heard the sound of his pants being undone. You were trembling at the sight of his hard cock being freed. You gasped when he lowered you to feel his tip caress your clit.

“You want this?”

“I need it Negan. Please, I want you only you. I belong to you.”

“Say that last part louder.” You hesitated but felt the sharp slap of his hand on your ass. You winced and dug your fingers into his skin.

“I belong to you Negan.”

“Good girl.” You moaned loudly as he brought your hips down onto his cock. He breath heavy and how your hips seemed to have a mind of their own. You moved against his lap with a fast rhythm, Negan moaned as his eyes focused on your body.

“Yeah baby. That’s it, fuck yourself on my dick.”

He licked his lips and held you tight. Your body quivered and the approaching orgasm made you weak. You leaned closer to press against his chest and held him tightly around his neck. Negan then began thrusting his hips up into you while groaning into your ear.

“Fuck Negan!” You cried into his neck and your walls clenched down on him. His chest vibrated as he growled when unloading into you. Negan swore under his breath as both your bodies fell relaxed on the couch. You were moved off his lap and watched him stand to grab a rag to clean up. You felt a bit anxious as to see him straightening himself up in front of the dresser’s mirror.

“Guess I’ll be going.” You announce and went to dress yourself.

“Nope. You better hop that ass on my bed. I’m not done showing who you belong to baby.”

#negan x reader #negan smut #negan fic #daddy negan #negan smith x reader #sanctuary negan

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bellaxgiornata · 10 months

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Nine]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: I have been stuck on this story so I already have chapter nine ready to share! I can't help that this story is just flowing out of me right now! This one takes place on the day of Jaime's funeral--can Reader resist a sad Mikey? Is she still going to run? Read and find out... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky

You were sat on your bed staring at the blinking cursor on your laptop’s screen. For the past couple of days you had forced yourself to focus on your writing whenever you weren’t actively making plans to leave. You hadn’t even said anything to Megan yet, not wanting her to freak out and possibly alert Michael thinking he might be able to convince you to stay. It wasn’t safe for either of them if you did.

Your eyes strayed from the screen, gradually making their way to your bedroom window. The curtains were drawn, just like they had been for the last two days. You were trying to keep Michael out of your view and out of your life. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since he’d left the other morning, right before you’d tried to kiss him. It made you sick to your stomach doing this to him, especially because you were certain you’d seen him crying in his bedroom the other evening, his silhouette visible past your curtains. You’d forced yourself to leave the room because you knew if you’d watched him for too long you’d wind up at his front door wanting to comfort him. And that wouldn’t be good for either of you.

But that didn’t mean you hadn’t stopped thinking about him.

You also knew today was the funeral for his son, Jaime. Megan had somehow overheard the news and was telling you about it over breakfast. You only felt further like an asshole knowing how difficult this day had to be for him, but here you were ghosting him after having just accepted his invitation for a date this weekend.

This is why you should have kept him at a distance. You'd barely been here for long and you'd fucked up and needed to get out of here already. You should have stayed away from him, shouldn’t have given in to whatever feelings it was you’d had. It was stupid to think you could have that–stupid to think you could have anything anymore. Not with the way your possessive ex-fiance was hunting you down.

Feeling the tears well up in your eyes, you slammed your laptop shut and climbed off your bed. Wiping the back of your hand across your eyes, you left your room and made your way downstairs. You'd locked yourself in that bedroom so much the last two days just trying to avoid Megan when she'd been off work that now it felt like the walls were closing in on you. And you couldn't seem to stop staring at that damn bedroom window.

Making your way into the kitchen, you reached up into a cabinet and pulled down one of Megan’s coffee mugs. But then you paused, your stomach feeling like it was sinking to your stomach. Your eyes watered again at the sight of the pretty floral mug in your hand.

You wished you weren't always on the run. Desperately you wished you could have a place of your own, somewhere to settle down where you'd wake up in the same place every day. Always in the same comfortable bed. A place to fill kitchen cabinets with cute coffee mugs and bookshelves to line with books. Somewhere you could plant flowers in the garden and know you'd actually be there when they bloomed again.

Somewhere to actually call home.

You were lonely, too, living like this. You had ways to communicate with your sister on the run and you frequently spoke with Angela, but that was it. Your connection with Michael was the first real connection you'd felt in a long time. He was the first one who'd eased that neverending sting of loneliness, even if it was alarming how easily he saw right through you.

“Stop it,” you warned yourself. “Thinking like this will get you nowhere.”

Sniffling loudly, you shoved those thoughts aside and turned on the coffee machine, listening to the whirring sound as it began to heat up. You set the mug underneath, fingers absently spinning the carousel of pods beside the machine. Selecting one of the coffee pods you'd gotten at the store the other day, you dropped it into the machine, pressing a button and waiting for it to fill your cup.

As you waited, you leant your back against the countertop and inspected your hands. You'd stopped wearing the bandages this morning, but the multiple cuts were still visible along your fingers and palms. Thankfully they didn't hurt as much today, but your hands looked like a cut up mess.

Something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye and your head darted to the side. Out of the kitchen window you spotted Michael in a dark blue suit making his way across the street. Your heart sank at the sight of him clearly on his way to the funeral. The threat of tears hit you again as you watched him, his head momentarily turning over his shoulder towards Megan’s house. Your breath caught in your throat, terrified he was about to stop and come back this way. But then Birdy appeared from her driveway, her arms outstretched towards Michael. She must’ve called out to him because he turned his attention to her. Silently you watched as she pulled him into a hug, his own arms wrapping around her.

You wished you could be there for him after the funeral. You knew today was going to be difficult on him; you couldn't even imagine the feeling of having to bury your own child. Remembering the night Jaime had been shot and you’d gone over to Michael’s, you recalled how he'd told you no one else had been there for him. Only you. Which meant that most of his family probably wouldn't offer him much in the way of comfort today, either. That only broke your heart further, especially knowing you couldn't be there for him this time.

He deserved better.

But you didn’t have a choice. Birdy hadn’t given you one. You doubted she’d listen to anything you had to say, which only meant you had to stay away from him to keep everyone safe. Soon you’d be leaving Ireland without a word to him and you could only imagine how confused and hurt he would be at your sudden disappearance. Maybe Megan could relay a message to him for you when you were gone. Some sort of apology.

But everyone would just be safer without you here.

Michael and Birdy soon turned, both of their attention focusing on your sister’s house. Heart rapidly pounding in your chest, terrified of being caught, you spun around towards your now full and steaming mug of coffee. You didn't know if they could see you from that window, but you hoped Birdy hadn't caught you staring. You weren't sure how serious she was about contacting Victor, but the thought of her alerting him to your presence here struck fear straight into your veins.

Turning off the coffee machine, you grabbed your mug and hurried back up to your bedroom, your mind once again focusing on where you were going to disappear once again. You had found a small cottage in England. In some safe, little quiet town. You’d yet again already had to pull some strings to get another fake visa for a different country. Thankfully you still had some friends Stateside willing to secretly help you out.

When you reached your bedroom again, you paused in the doorway, shoulders sagging as you took in the sight of your things scattered around the space. You figured you should probably start packing your things tonight. Hide them in the closet so Megan didn't see them. If you were planning to leave mid-morning tomorrow, you'd need to pack before Megan came home later tonight.

Making your way over to the closet, you slid the door open with a sigh, your eyes falling on your luggage.

"Here we go again," you mumbled.

It hadn't taken you more than an hour to pack up your belongings this afternoon. You'd hidden your packed bag in the closet, knowing Megan wouldn't have a need to go in there and would be none the wiser about your plan to bolt. She had a shift later in the morning tomorrow and you were planning to grab a car and head to the airport shortly after she left. You’d leave her a message on her phone explaining everything once you’d gotten there and then by the time she saw it, you’d already be on the flight. And then you’d be gone, just like that.

For now you found yourself yet again in the back garden, leaning against the fence and staring up at the night sky. If only the stars were visible here, you missed seeing them. Though maybe they would be visible in that quiet little town you were disappearing to. Something to look forward to, at least.

You’d had a quiet dinner alone tonight just wallowing in your feelings. It was always hard to leave a place each time you did, but it was really hitting you much harder this time around. You hadn’t spent time with your sister in years, and she was the only one who actually knew what was going on in your life. The only one you’d had to talk to about anything and everything. You’d only just gotten her back in your life again and now you were already going to have to leave her. And you were doing it without a proper goodbye, like the asshole you were. You just kept reminding yourself it was safer this way.

And Michael. Your eyes darted over towards his house, the inside of it dark. He probably was still with family. Not even back yet from the funeral. Fuck, you could only imagine the grief he was silently enduring. Pretending to be strong for his brother and his wife, but deep down falling apart just like he’d done on his couch with you. You knew it was a false front he put up, but as soon as he came home it would crumble completely.

Your gaze dropped down to your feet, a grimace on your face. That sick to your stomach feeling you’d had over the past couple of days returned at the thought of how you’d been avoiding and ignoring him. Running out of town on him without so much as a goodbye.

Why did it have to be like that?

Maybe it didn't have to be.

Desperately you latched on to that thought. Maybe it didn't have to be exactly like that. Maybe you could at least say goodbye. He deserved that at least, right? And if you were leaving in the morning, what damage could Birdy do? You’d be gone and she’d have no reason to alert Victor. Right?

Though what would you even say to him? Because if you told him flat out that you were running, you had a strong feeling he’d just urge you to stay. And he’d probably find some reason to talk you out of it. Knowing you, you’d let him. Because whatever was there between you two, you couldn’t deny you wanted to explore it.

But what if…

Slowly your eyes closed, a thought you'd been fighting down for the past two days finally breaking free.

What if you told Michael the truth? Told him all of it? Everything about you and why you had been running and hiding? Maybe he’d understand. He already knew you were in trouble. Maybe he could talk to Birdy, help her to see what was really going on instead of the conclusions she had jumped to. She’d surely listen to Michael, right? Then maybe you wouldn’t need to disappear again. At least, not right now. Not unless Victor actually found you himself.

Hope filled you quickly at the thought of staying. Of getting more time with your sister and the prospect of exploring whatever it was between you and Michael, starting with that cup of coffee this weekend. You wanted to cling to that hope so badly.

The lights turning on in Michael’s house caught your attention, your eyes immediately drawn to it. You could see Michael making his way through the sitting room straight towards his back door, shrugging out of suit coat with his eyes on you. He tossed the coat onto his sofa and continued to make his way to the sliding glass door.

Despite how solemn he looked, you were suddenly feeling like you could float. Things would work out. You'd tell him everything and he would understand, and then he would talk to Birdy and she would understand you weren't a threat. Things would be okay. You wouldn't have to leave. Not this time. Not now.

Michael’s back door slid open, the sound breaking through the silence that felt like it had surrounded you for days now. Without hesitation you began to make your way towards him, a nervous smile on your mouth. You figured you'd focus on him first, give him the comfort he needed before you dropped everything on him. You were certain his day had already been shit and you hated knowing you were about to add to it.

"Hey," you greeted him.

"I haven't seen ya in days," he replied, hurt apparent in his tone as he continued to make his way towards you as well. "What happened?"

You awkwardly wrung your hands in front of yourself, guilt burning through you at his words. Swallowing hard, you figured you'd lie for now, just so he wouldn't put the focus on you and your problems. You had all night to talk, it's not like either of you were going anywhere, and you truly wanted to make sure he was alright before you unloaded on him.

"Sorry, I–I was busy writing," you told him. "Sort of got lost in my head working on some things. Trying to meet a deadline."

He nodded, his hands coming to rest along the fence as he finally came to a stop before you. His eyes were studying you in the dim light shining from the back of Megan’s house. You were studying him in return, taking in the frown on his lips and the grief in his eyes. His blue dress shirt looked a bit mussed from the day of wearing it, though he'd clearly lost the tie and unbuttoned a couple of buttons now. Eyes drawing back up to his face, you felt like you could clearly see him. He looked lost.

Swallowing hard, your hands stopped their nervous fidgeting and instead you carefully reached out towards him. Hesitantly you wrapped your hands around his, feeling your nerves lessen a bit when you felt his fingers grasp yours in return.

"How're you doing?" you asked.

Michael exhaled a long, mournful breath as his gaze dropped down to your enjoined hands. He shrugged his shoulders faintly, shaking his head.

"It was not a good day," he answered. "I'll tell ya that."

"I had a feeling," you said softly.

His hands squeezed both of yours tighter for a moment, your eyes focusing on what you could see of his face in the dim light. His eyes had closed, his lips pressed tight together.

"I have a daughter," he told you.

You stiffened instantly at his admission. From your research and that strange sighting of the young girl staring at his house earlier this week, you figured he did. Now here he was openly telling you about her.

"I don'–don' want to get into the details," he continued, his eyes still downcast as he held your hands firmly, "but I was hopin' to get her back in my life again. Now that I'm out. I wasn't fool enough to think I'd get custody of her, but I'd been hopin' I'd at least be able to see her again. Have a relationship with her."

You remained quiet, unsure of what more he was going to tell you. Instead of speaking, you held his hands more firmly in your own, attempting to offer him some bit of comfort. But as you listened, you only felt further like an asshole for what you had been doing to him this week, and for what you might still have to do tomorrow, depending how things panned out.

"That appointment I had the other day," he eventually continued. "It was with a solicitor. I've been applyin' to the courts to see her. But the–the solicitor made it seem like it wasn't goin' to work in my favor. Like I'm too dangerous for my own daughter," he spat.

He abruptly released one of your hands, rubbing at his forehead. Michael still wouldn't meet your eyes, but you could feel the frustration and the despair radiating from him. Something had happened. You could feel it.

"She showed up at the funeral today," he eventually continued, his voice wavering. "It had already been a difficult day, but then I saw her. And I thought–thought maybe somethin' good could come of this. Ya know? Like maybe we could talk. Reconnect. But when I went to speak to her after she–"

Michael broke off on a choked sound. Your hand squeezed his harder instantly, ignoring the sting of the cuts in your palm at the pressure as you did. You had a feeling you knew where this was going with the information you had. He'd gone to prison for supposedly killing his wife, his daughter must blame him. Hate him for it.

"She told me she wanted nothing' to–to do with me," he croaked out. "That she had nothin' to say to me."

Not even thinking about the consequences, you released his hand and grasped him by the shoulders, instinctively pulling him straight to you. Tears were welling in your own eyes as you heard a sob fall out of him, and then he was leaning further across the stone fence, his face pressing against your neck. You could feel the dampness of his tears against your skin, your heart once again breaking all over for this man. He was suffering so much himself and you desperately wished to ease that suffering.

But, as you reminded yourself, depending how tonight went you might be adding further to his pain.

Your arms held him more firmly to you at that thought, a few tears falling down your own cheeks. You didn't want to hurt him.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” you whispered, the apology for more than he knew.

“I love her so much,” he breathed out, his tears soaking the collar of your sweatshirt. “I’d never–never hurt her. Never let anyone hurt her.”

He sniffed loudly, his hands sliding their way around towards your back. You could feel his fingers digging into you through the thick sweatshirt you had on, as if he was desperate to hold onto something and not be forced to let it go for once. Turning your head, you buried your face into his hair, closing your eyes and trying to fight back your own tears.

“I’m tired of feelin’ like some sort of monster,” he whispered against your neck. “Tired of everyone seein’ me like I am.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster, Michael Kinsella,” you told him.

At your words, he instantly drew his face from where he’d burrowed against your neck. You raised your own head as he stared back at you, his expression intense as he focused on you. His face was only inches from yours, tears glistening in his eyes as they darted back and forth between yours, searching for something. Your right hand released his shoulder and carefully you reached up, gently wiping away the tear tracks on his face with the pad of your thumb.

“I think you have a good heart, despite the things you might have done,” you said, nerves gathering in your stomach as he continued to stare at you so ardently. “Despite the things that have been done to you.”

Eyes holding his, your hand came to rest along his cheek, cradling it against your palm. Your thumb was lightly stroking back and forth, just over the dark hair of his beard.

"Ya don' know what I've done," he breathed out, shaking his head lightly.

The muscles twitched in your cheeks. You did know, actually, but now was not the time to admit that.

"I have a good idea," you said instead. "And I can see your heart, Michael. It's not full of darkness and violence. Quite the opposite, really. Believe me, I can see the difference." A sad smile slid onto your lips as you added, "Now, at least."

His brows drew together, his eyes softening as they searched your face yet again.

"What happened to ya, Grace?" he asked softly. "Will ya tell me?"

He had just given you the perfect in. The perfect time to bring everything up, to tell him the truth. Tell him everything and hope he believed you. Hope he could convince Birdy afterwards so you could stay here and not have to run again.

Slowly you nodded, that sad smile still on your lips. "Yeah, I will," you answered. "But maybe we should go inside? Sit down and talk? And I–I can tell you everything. If you want?"

The corners of his mouth curled up just a bit, a matching sad smile of his own. "I'd like that, if ya feel comfortable enough with tellin' me," he replied.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of Michael’s back door sliding open caught your attention. Instinctively you pulled away from him, your hands dropping back to your sides as your pulse sped up, terrified Birdy had caught you and would poison Michael’s mind before you had a chance to speak to him.

But it wasn't Birdy stepping out of Michael’s sitting room. You recognized the woman from the photo on the dealership website–Amanda Kinsella. And you assumed the man with his dark hair pulled back in a taut bun at the back of his head was Michael’s brother, Jimmy. You hadn't properly met either of them yet.

Michael’s shoulders slumped as he turned to the side and took in the sight of the pair of them. He didn't look thrilled at the interruption.

Jimmy and Amanda were eyeing you closely as Jimmy closed the glass door behind himself. But while Jimmy’s stare was curious and a little confused, Amanda's eyes seemed to be narrowed and almost disdainful. Challenging, even. You crossed your arms and looked away, your attention falling on that stone fence separating Michael and you.

"Somethin' happen?" Michael called out to them.

"Not quite," Jimmy answered. "But we needed to speak with ya 'bout somethin'."

"In private," Amanda added, her tone sharp. "Just between the three of us."

"We need ya, Michael," Jimmy pressed.

Your hands clamped into fists under your arms, hugging yourself a bit tighter. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Michael shift on his feet, his head turning towards you.

"Can it–it wait a bit?" he asked, his tone almost pleading.

The sound of Amanda’s bitter scoff had your nails biting into your palms. Your healing cuts from that broken bottle of wine stung, the pain only encouraging you to press harder on them as Amanda spoke again.

"No, Michael," she snapped. " Family can't wait. Whatever this is can."

There was a heavy silence that hung in the air, her words drawing a firm line between them and you. A hollow ache formed in your chest. You weren't part of them, you knew that, but the distaste in her tone hurt. Especially with the distrust and dislike Birdy had thrown at you repeatedly. Maybe you didn't belong here.

"Alrigh' just–just gimme a minute out here?" Michael asked.

"You've got one minute," Amanda snapped. "This is time sensitive, Michael."

Your eyes remained on the stone fence as you heard the back door open and close again. Just like that you'd lost your opportunity.

"I'm–I'm sorry 'bout that, Grace," he said softly, his hands coming into your line of sight as he rested them along the fence. "But I made a promise and I…I need to help my brother tonight. We can talk about everythin' later, yeah?"

Nodding stiffly, you tried to fight the tremble of your lips as you did. If you didn't talk tonight, you wouldn't be here to talk later. No doubt Birdy would hear from either Jimmy or Amanda that you were talking to Michael tonight. It was clear none of them were about to trust you, too. If you didn't talk to Michael before your flight tomorrow and have him convince Birdy that alerting Victor to your presence was a danger to more than just you, you'd be leaving in the morning. You wouldn't have a choice, you couldn't risk her giving him your location.

"Hey, would ya look at me, Grace? Please?" he begged.

"You should probably go deal with whatever that is," you said instead. "I'll stop distracting you."

You were about to turn to leave but Michael reached across the fence quickly, his hand lightly cupping your cheek and drawing your face up towards his. His eyes were creased at the corners, dark brows lowered on his forehead as he looked back at you. That look like he was lost was back on his face again, the sight of it tugging at your heart.

"Ya aren't distractin' me," he said firmly. "I want to talk to ya. 'Bout everythin'. I swear. But I just have to deal with somethin' tonight."

He closed the distance between the pair of you, the stone fence still a frustrating barrier as he lowered his forehead to yours. Your eyes closed as you eased back towards him, craving his comforting and safe presence.

"We will talk later," he murmured. "I swear on it."

A flicker of hope reignited in your chest at his words. You'd talk to him when he finished dealing with whatever it was he needed to tonight. You'd stay up as late as you had to.

"Okay," you whispered.

He shifted, his forehead pulling away from yours. Your eyes flew open just as you felt his warm lips place a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your heart stuttered in your chest as they lingered there for a moment before he inevitably broke away. His eyes met yours again, the look in them a silent plea as well.

"Wait for me, yeah?" he asked.

Nodding slowly, you felt tears prick at your eyes. You'd wait all night if you had to.

Michael sent you a small smile before he turned, making his way back towards his house. You could see Amanda glaring at you through the glass door just over his shoulder. Frowning, you turned and made your way back into Megan’s house, prepared to wait for Michael to return later.

It had been just over three hours since Michael had left you to go deal with whatever situation it was Jimmy and Amanda had needed him for. Megan had come home a bit ago from her shift at the hospital and you'd tried your best to act normal around her, but admittedly it had been difficult. You still didn't know if you would be leaving her without a word tomorrow or not yet.

Eventually you'd gone back up to your room and opened your bedroom curtains, sitting on your bed and trying to focus on your writing. You hadn't been able to write much though, your eyes constantly flying to the window and hoping to see any sort of movement to alert you to the fact that Michael was finally back home. You planned to go straight there the moment you knew he was.

But it wasn't the lights of Michael’s bedroom that immediately drew your attention to the window a little while later. It was the telltale red and blue flashing lights of the Garda streaking through it and into your room.

You flew from your bed in a hurry, panic flooding you as you sprinted out of your bedroom and down the stairs. Something had happened tonight. You should have figured as much when Jimmy and Amanda had shown up.

"What's going on?" Megan called out behind you from her room.

You didn't answer her though, your heart thundering in your own ears as you bolted down the hallway, raced down the stairs, and hurried into the kitchen. Immediately you ran to the window, pressing your hands against the cold glass as you looked out.

There were a handful of Garda cars filling the street, their lights flashing along the row of houses.

"Oh, shit," Megan breathed out as she appeared at your side. "What the fuck happened tonight?"

Movement next door caught your eye, your heart feeling like it was sinking through the floor at the sight. Michael was being taken from his house in handcuffs, led to the back of one of the cars.

"Oh my God," Megan whispered. "Is he being arrested?"

"I don't know," you answered softly.

Tears burned at your eyes as you watched him climb into the backseat of the Garda car in what felt like slow motion. Exhaling a shuddering breath, you realized you wouldn't be talking to him tonight. Which meant you'd be running in the morning before Birdy could alert the Serpents, and therefore Victor, of your whereabouts.

"Maybe it's nothing?" Megan said, her eyes glued to the sight outside. “Look, they’ve got Jimmy in cuffs, too. Maybe they’re just going in for questioning? And everything will be alright?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, a tear falling out of your eye as you stared at the Garda cars. “Hopefully.”

But you knew the Garda here were allowed to hold Michael for up to twenty-four hours for questioning. And you didn’t have that long.

It looked like you’d be on the run again in the morning after all.

#michael kinsella x female reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella #michael kinsella angst #kin fanficiton #kin (amc)

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