#brett hand x male reader

[maleposting]

(artist is @/idonotexist_222 on twitter)

[prettybrownelf]

Hi I hope your still taking requests for Brett hand? Could you do a male reader? Where reader is really awkward and new to the team. And Brett starts having a straight guy crisis when he starts falling for reader?

Lunch Date

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

a/n- so sorry this took so long life has been hectic

Pairings - Brett Hand x Male! Reader

Summary- Brett falls for the new guy at work, despite never liking a guy before

Word Count- 1006

Content Warnings- Anxiety, Fluff, Brett Is A Mess

Brett can hear his heart beating in his ears. He rubs the sweat forming on his palms onto his black slacks. The pattern ding! from the clock sends a shock through his body as he tries to keep his eyes on Reagan. 

But there was you. 

Standing next to Reagan. 

He watched as you swayed a bit in your chair, messing with a string on the end of your coat to calm your own nerves. Brett couldn't tear his eyes away from you. It made his head hurt. Not because you're attractive, that's obvious to him, but because you're a guy. 

Never once had Brett questioned his sexuality. But here he was, trembling in his chair with a beat red face over a cute guy. 

“Brett?” Reagan says. Bretts nearly jumps out of his seat as he looks at her. She lazily points to you, next to her. “Show’em around, please.” Brett nods as he quickly stands up and leads you out of the room. There isn't enough air in the building for Brett right now as he tries to act as normal as possible. 

“What's your name?” Brett asks. He tries to ignore how his voice cracks. You, however, don't seem to be as nervous anymore as you look around. “(Y/n).” Brett takes a deep breath in as he turns a corner. “Here's the lab. Reagan is normally here. She also doesn't like when people touch things.” Bretts eyes stay on you as he watches you nod along with him. 

Crushing anxiety fills Bretts chest as the two of you walk around the building. “So, what are you into outside of work?” Brett asks. His hands tremble by the side of him as he tries not to stare too hard. You give a small shrug as you talk. “I either sleep or play video games. Mostly sleep and work.” 

Brett curses to himself as he tries to keep his voice from trembling. “What kind of games?” Brett almost gags at his stupid ‘cool guy’ voice. His cheeks flare as he hears a small chuckle come from you. “Honestly? Anything that slightly peaks my interest.” Brett gives a shaky smile. A sinking feeling makes its way into Bretts chest. 

He quickly looks away once he realizes he's been staring. The rest of the tour is spent with Brett desperately trying to make sure you don't know how nervous he is. He doubts it works. 

By the end of the day Brett feels like he's been hit by a bus. His head is spinning and he's getting a migraine. 

“You good?” Reagan asks. She has a slightly worried look on her face as she catches Brett before he leaves. Brett gives the best smile he could. “Yeah! Just tired.” Reagan gives a slow nod as she looks Brett up and down. “Uh-huh.” She mumbles. 

Brett stands in silence as Reagan sighs. “Ok. What's wrong?” Before Brett can say anything, Reagan interrupts. “I don't care. Just tell me so I can go home and we can deal with it tomorrow.” Brett thinks for a moment as he stares at her. He shifts his weight from foot to foot before he mutters out his words. “I think the new guys cute.” 

Reagan’s  shoulders drop as she gives a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god! I thought you fucked something up!” Brett feels the air trapped in his chest escape in his own sigh as he opens his car door. “No, I didn't break anything. You always think I broke something.” Reagan sips her coffee as she pats Brett’s shoulder on the way to her own car. “Don't be so weird about it! Everyone has workplace crushes.”

Brett sits in his car for a moment as he thinks to himself. Workplace crushes are normal, he has no reason to be worried! But what if you're not into that? What if he's just confused? Wouldn't he have liked a guy before if he was into guys? 

The spinning thoughts become too much for him as he finally pulls into his driveway. Brett can feel his body wanting to crash in of itself as he throws himself on his couch and groans into his cushions. 

As the world spins around him, the familiar buzzing of his phone forces him out of his whirling thoughts. 

            ‘hey, it's (y/n)’’

Brett looks at the message for a few seconds before typing with shaky fingers. 

            ‘Hey!’

He feels himself cringe in on himself as he rethinks everything he's ever done in his life up until this moment. The thoughts can't last for long though as another buzz comes quickly. 

            ‘wanna get lunch tomorrow?’

Brett types faster than he ever has in his life

            ‘Absolutely!’

As Brett texts (Y/n) about getting lunch, he can't help the twisting feeling in his stomach that gets worse with every message. Brett takes a long deep breath once he and (y/n) end the conversation. It's fine, it's just lunch with a co-worker! Don't think so deeply about it! 

Despite his best efforts, his anxiety doesn't subside that night, or the following day as he walks to a local restaurant to meet (Y/n).

Brett adjusts his collar as he walks into the building and is immediately greeted by a smiling face. 

“Hey!” You smile as the two of you get a table. Brett feels his hands getting sweaty as the two of you order. 

“So, why did you want to get lunch?” Brett asks, taking a nervous sip of his water. (Y/n) chuckles softly as a bit of heat travels to his cheeks. “Honestly, I thought you were cute. I wanted to get to know you.” 

Brett almost chokes on his water as he quickly looks at you. His voice shakes slightly as he tries his best to play cool. “You think I'm cute?” 

(Y/n) laughs with a nod. “Yes, I think you're very cute.” Brett smiles as their food arrives at the table. Brett picks up a fork as he looks back to (Y/n). 

“Well, let's get to know each other then.” 

[percybeloved]

Hey guys! Long time, no see. I'm active on here again and willing to take requests for a small price of any of these listed below.

500-1000 Words - $1.50

1000 - 2500 Words - $2.50

2500 - 5000 Words - $5.00

5000 - 7500 Words - $7.25

7500+ Words - $10

☆ RULES ☆

No Minors, No TENTACLES, No scat, piss, vomit, any bodily fluids minus spit, cum and blood, loli, shota, rape, pet play, furries,

Yes to OC'S, any non illegal ship, and anything appropriate according to the rules! Any and every fandom is welcome.

[hellodeez]

I have a lot of requests but I want some from New characters I added 😢

[bigfatbimbo]

INSIDE JOB KCFFPKAFRDJATS

I need me some more Subby Brett Hand fics like omggg I already read all the ones I could find

—

Denying Brett an orgasm for like the millionth time and he tears up????

👀<3

a/n — Brett Hand my baby girl, I’d do anything for you. Anyways, I have reagan fics after this one.

warnings — Dom!reader, fem reader, Brett calls reader mommy

summary — Series of Sub!Brett headcanons, and then a drabble

ᯓ★ This man is so submissive, I will never understand how people write him as a dom, he is a subtop at best.

ᯓ★ Desperate for approval on an ungodly level, so this translates to a killer praise kink.

ᯓ★ He will need all the reassurance in the world that he’s making you feel good and that your actually enjoying him.

ᯓ★ “Good boy, Brett” He will automatically be on the edge, trying not to cum immediately. You really think so? You really think he’s doing good? He’s eating it up.

ᯓ★ Nowhere near unexperienced, the man was on a frat club in college. But that does imply that ‘making him feel loved’ was not on his party-hookups agenda.

ᯓ★ This basically means that being gentle with him would be a huge turn-on. Yes please make him feel comfortable, tell him how pretty he looks, tell him just how much you like him.

ᯓ★ Would call you mommy. He grew up getting no attention any authority’s figures in his life and now your doting on him and taking care of him? It just slips out!

ᯓ★ Ready to try most of anything, like anything you wanna do. Even if he doesn’t actually like the idea, but most times he would because it’s you.

“W-wait please, I really need to cum this time—“ Brett begged, looking up at you with a desperate look, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead.

“I know, baby. And you’ve been so good for me,” you coo as he answers with a short whine, “But mommy’s not done with you yet, so you’re just gonna have to wait.”

”’m sorry mommy, i-i’m trying but— Oh fuck..”

He stops himself with a low whimper as you drag your finger along the base of his cock, while positioning yourself over him.

You were going to… ride him? He couldn’t handle that in this state, you had to know that! You’d denied him plenty of other times that night, but this seemed almost mean.

He’d have to hold himself back though, as he was terrified of you being upset with him.

You plopped yourself down on his cock, ignoring the tears that instantaneously bubbles in his eyes, “My good boy, you’re taking it all so well.”

He whined, “It’s— god, it’s so much— please, I need to— Aah!” you roll your hips suddenly fast, practically jamming his cock in your pussy, before slowly down. A tear rolled down Brett’s face, and then another.

“Aw, sh sh,” You lean down and wipe the tears path off his cheek, and then plant a kiss.

“Don’t cry, I know you can handle it. I know you can handle more than this.”

[waywardxrhea]

Tuna-Tober Days 7 and 26 - Matt Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

prompts: nothing underneath & under the desk

word count: 1,678

content: SMUT! MDNI! 18+ ONLY! semi-public sexual acts, oral (male receiving), no underwear under sundress, brief female masturbation, language (Matt's got a mouth on him), dirty talk (reader's got a mouth on her), love bites.

tuna-tober masterlist / main masterlist

It was a surprisingly hot day in Hell’s Kitchen as you returned to the neighborhood after a short girls’ trip with your friends upstate to get out of the city for a little while. You hadn’t texted Matt that you were home yet, knowing that the firm was hard at work on a case that had been occupying a lot of Matt’s time lately. The case combined with his nearly nightly hobby of stopping criminals on the streets and you being out of town for the week had left you…pent up to say the least. 

Wanting to surprise Matt, you ordered food from the place where he, Foggy, and Karen frequently got meals while working on cases. The lunch wasn’t the only surprise you had in store for him though. When you had dropped off your bags at your shared apartment, you had done something risky that you hoped would lead to something, anything with Matt. You had taken off your underwear as a means of enticing him, even if it was later that day when he got off of work. You were willing to wait until the end of the day, but no longer than that. You needed Matt. 

A pang of anxiety hit you momentarily at the prospect of going onto the streets of New York City in a sundress without any underwear on, but the memories of your intimate moments with Matt overtook that anxiety and bolstered your confidence. You couldn’t help the memories occupying your mind as you picked up the food and began walking to the firm. The flood of these memories had gone straight to your core, and you didn’t even realize how worked up you had gotten yourself until you entered the office. 

After knocking on the door quietly, it opened to reveal Matt who had a look of mixed emotions on his face. There was first happiness, his charming smile as he greeted you making your heart flutter - you would never get over how giddy that smile made you. Next was what looked like relief as he realized that you had brought lunch. After that though was a flash of lust and a different type of hunger as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Matt reached up and loosened his tie as he stepped aside to let you in, clearing his throat before saying, “Thank you for bringing lunch, sweetheart.” He followed close behind as you placed the food on a table, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back flush to him as he kissed your shoulder and mumbled, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, relaxing into his embrace. Glancing around, you didn’t see Foggy or Karen in the office, so you asked, “Where are the others?”

There was a pause for a few moments before Matt said, “A couple blocks away. They stopped to talk with…Brett. He’s been helping us a lot with this case.” His hands began massaging your hips, and as he did, you started to feel his arousal poking your backside. Lowering down so his mouth was right beside your ear, his husky voice said, “I have a suspicion you had motives other than just bringing me lunch, sweetheart…” 

You grabbed a bit of the fabric of the skirt of your dress and swished it before asking with a smirk, “What gave that way, counselor?”

Matt let out a strained whine when the smell and taste of your arousal hit him, and his grip on your hips tightened as he moved to place a sloppy kiss on your neck. “You’re…you’re not-?” he asked, his sentence clipped as he focused his senses on you and came to the realization that you had nothing on underneath your dress. “Fuck…” he choked out as his hips ground into you from behind. 

“I was hoping that would be the outcome of this visit, yes,” you teased, grinding back into him and eliciting another breathy whine from his lips. 

“My office. Now,” he practically growled as he turned you around and captured your lips in a passionate kiss while leading you to the small room where his private office was. By the time Matt got you onto his desk and your hands were frantically undoing his belt, he pulled away abruptly and whispered, “Goddamnit…” 

“What?” you asked, not bothering to stop your movements as you did. 

“Karen and Foggy… They’re almost back in the building,” he replied. 

“Well then you better grab your lunch and pretend to be working,” you told him after a few moments of thinking, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. 

“What do you me-” he started to say, but cut himself short when you began to sink down into a comfortable enough position on the floor, hidden from sight under his desk. 

“Hurry back,” you said in a low and sultry tone, which earned a whispered curse from Matt as he fumbled to grab his food to bring to his desk. 

When he got back and scooted his rolling chair closer to you, your hands were on him immediately, slowly running up and down his thighs, almost brushing against the bulge in his slacks, but always missing by millimeters. “Fuck, sweetheart, they’re almost-” Matt choked out before you hushed him. 

“Just act like I’m not here,” you told him with a quiet chuckle escaping as his hips bucked in search of friction. 

“It’s not that easy,” he countered through gritted teeth as your fingers ghosted past his aching cock. He sucked in a sharp breath before adding, “You’re making it really hard to-”

He cut himself off though when the main door to the office opened and closed as Foggy and Karen entered the space. “Ooh, Matt, when’d you get lunch?” Foggy asked, popping his head into Matt’s office as he did. Matt cleared his throat and tried to keep his voice steady as he told him that you brought it. “Oh nice! Give her our thanks when you see her tonight! Karen and I just talked with Brett and got a good lead, we’ll be in my office sorting it out while we eat,” he said. 

“Y-yeah. Tonight. I’ll tell her,” Matt replied, biting the inside of his cheek to contain the moan threatening to escape as you finally danced your fingers along his length through his slacks. 

“Thanks, bud! If you need anything, you know where we’ll be!” Foggy said cheerfully before closing the door behind him. 

When you heard the click of the door handle, you finally reached for the zipper of Matt’s slacks and slid it down before freeing his length from the confines of them and his underwear. A hiss of air went through Matt’s teeth as you leaned up and began teasing him with your tongue, running it up the underside in a way you knew drove him crazy every time. You let out a pleased hum as his hand reached down to caress your cheek, turning to kiss the palm of his hand before once more adjusting so you could take him into your mouth. 

With his legs widening to accommodate you, Matt leaned back into his chair as his head lulled onto the headrest, a pleasure filled sigh leaving his lips as his eyes closed in bliss. The quiet sounds of pleasure leaving Matt’s lips went straight to your core, and you could feel yourself growing more aroused as you bobbed your head up and down Matt’s length. 

A quiet moan left your throat as Matt laced his fingers in your hair, the reverberation on his cock driving Matt mad as he grew closer to his release. “Fuck, sweetheart, I want- I need to- Please let me touch you,” Matt choked out. The fresh waves of your arousal hitting his nose alone were enough to bring him impossibly closer to his orgasm. He wanted to touch you. Taste you. Feel you around him as he took you against the desk. He needed you. 

You released Matt from your mouth and began working him quickly with your hand, the sound lewd in the otherwise quiet office. A quiet chuckle left your lips as you told him, “Be good for me here and I’m all yours tonight. However you want me. Wherever you want me.” Your lips met his right thigh and you began sucking a small love bite into the skin before telling him in a low voice, “Mark me so the world knows I’m taken. Make me scream so the whole city knows who I belong to…”

A string of curses flew from Matt’s mouth as his hips bucked up and a quiet moan escaped his lips. You took the opportunity to take him back into your mouth and hollowed out your cheeks as he hit the back of your throat, one hand holding steady on the side of his thigh and the other sneaking down to rub your clit. The moment your finger began rubbing the sensitive bud, Matt had to bite down on his knuckle to keep quiet as his body flushed with warmth as he reached his orgasm, the pleasure making his toes curl in his shoes. 

With his chest heaving, Matt leaned back into his chair to catch his breath as he caressed your face with one of his hands once again to ground himself as he came down from his high. When he finally regained his bearings, he chucked before whispering, “Thank you. That was…amazing. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, a quiet giggle leaving your lips at how risky what you just did was. “You think you can get Karen and Foggy out of the office for a bit? I don’t think I can wait til tonight,” you told Matt as you intentionally adjusted your skirt again to tease him. 

“I’ll find a way,” he assured you, tucking himself back into his slacks before standing up and going to tell the two of them about something he found in his paperwork that he needed them to go investigate. 

[reareaotaku]

Masterlist IV [Complete]

Masterlist V | Masterlist III | Masterlist II | Masterlist I Updated: Aug. 28, 2024 [9:39 PM CDT] * = Slight Nsfw/Nsfw Content

Beetlejuice

Beetlejuice

Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz Headcanons

Lydia Deetz

Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz Headcanons

Goofy Movie

Max Goof

She Said See You Later, Boy [Pt. II of He was a Skater Boy] Birthday Celebration Max Goof Headcanons Max NSFW Headcanons* Max Dating Headcanons

Bradley Uppercrust III

Bradley Headcanons Birthday Celebration Bradley NSFW Headcanons*

Peter Pete Junior "P.J."

Birthday Celebration

Bobby Zimmeruski 

Birthday Celebration Bobby Headcanons*

Tank

Birthday Celebration

Goofy

Birthday Celebration

Teen Mutant Ninja Turtles

Michelangelo 'Mikey'

Mikey Headcanons

Donnie

Sweet Pretty Thing

Stranger Things

Mike Wheeler

I Wanna Be More Than Friends

Victorious

Tori Vega

Victorious Main Cast Headcanons

Andre Harris

Victorious Main Cast Headcanons

Cat Valentine

Victorious Main Cast Headcanons

Robbie Shapiro

Victorious Main Cast Headcanons

Beck Oliver

Victorious Main Cast Headcanons

Jade West

Victorious Main Cast Headcanons

Spiderman

Miles Morales

Miles Morales Headcanons Another World

Gwen Stacy

Yandere! Gwen Stacy Headcanons

My Babysitter's a Vampire

Ethan Morgan

[Yandere] Ethan Morgan Headcanons

It

Richie Tozier

First Kiss

Emperor's New Groove

Yzma

Male! Yzma Headcanons

Turning

Miles Fairchild

Impress a Crush New Girl

Dork Diaries

Mackenzie Hollister

Mackenzie Hollister Headcanons

Malcom in the Middle

Reese Wilkerson

Reese Wilkerson Headcanons

The Middle

Axl Heck

Love Thy Sister's Friend Axl Heck Drabble

Kim Possible

Kim Possible

Being Friends w/ Kim Possible [& More]

The Goldfinch

Theo Decker

But I Love You

Boris Pavlikovsky

Yandere! Boris Pavlikovsky Headcanons

Diabolik Lovers

Kou Mukami

Yandere! Kou Mukami Headcanons

Azusa Mukami

Yandere! Azusa Mukami Headcanons

Carmen Sandiego

Graham Calloway

Yandere Crackle Headcanons

Inside Job

Brett Hand

[Toxic] Brett Hand Headcanons

Gravity Falls

Bill Cipher

Bill Cipher Headcanons Bill in Prison Equally Obsessed Reader Hate, Hate, Hate Yandere Bill Cipher Headcanons Yandere! Ford vs Yandere! Bill Jealous/Yandere Bill Headcanons

Reverse Pine Twins

Rev! Pine Twins vs Pine Twins Keep You Here [Pt II]

Pine Twins

Rev! Pine Twins vs Pine Twins Monster Fall AU Monster Falls [Pt II]

Dipper Pines

Aged Up! Dipper Pines Romantic Headcanons Reader who can Jump Dimensions

Stan Pines

Teen! Stan & Ford Pines Headcanons Monster Fall AU Lost in Town [Pt I] Stan Pines Headcanons Yandere! Stan Pines Headcanons

Ford Pines

Teen! Stan & Ford Pines Headcanons Monster Fall AU College Ford w/ Painter Reader Yandere! Ford Headcanons Yandere! Ford vs Yandere! Bill Stanford Gleeful Headcanons Enemies 2 Friends to Something More* Hot & Sweaty * [^PT II] Good Morning I Can't Have You*

Peanuts

Schroeder

Schroeder Headcanons

Phineas and Ferb

Jeremy Johnson

Jeremy Johnson Headcanaons

Ferb Fletcher

Ferb is quiet as a mouse

Fairly Oddparents

Periwinkle 'Peri' Fairywinkle-Cosma

Peri Headcanons Human Reader More Peri x Human Reader Headcanons Peri x Toothfairy!GN! Reader

Scream

Billy Loomis

Prank Call

Game Of Thrones

Daenerys Targeryan

A Knight

Bran Stark

Yandere! Bran Stark Headcanons

Superman

Jon Kent

Apple of My Eye

Batman

Damian Wayne

Apple of My Eye

Dick Grayson

Watcher or Stalker?

Tim Drake

Tim Drake Headcanons

The Umbrella Academy

Five Hargreeves

True Hate-filled Love

Mean Girl

Regina George

Regina George Headcanons

Own Characters

Rich Boy Lucas

Kidnapping Lucas

Arcane

Jinx

Yandere! Jinx Headcanons

Coco

Miguel Rivera

Miguel Headcanons

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Prince/Fire Lord Zuko

Yandere Zuko Headcanons

Katara

Katara Headcanons

Avatar Aang

Avatar Aang Headcanons

[zaceouiswriting]

Overprotective Brothers

Characters: Brett Talbot (mentioned) x male reader, male reader and his brothers

Universe: Teen Wolf

Warnings: Nothing but fluff

The house was quiet, except for the usual noises of the people living there. One was in the designated gym at the back of the house, one was lounging in the living room eating a protein bar, the third was in the kitchen secretly trying to eat most of the previous day's leftovers, the fourth was in a bathroom, showering and the fifth was in his room trying to concentrate on his school work.

But all harmony was shattered when the front door was thrown open, flying into the wall and shaking the entire house. The first person to look into the hallway leading to the front door were the one in the kitchen and the one lounging in the living room, both craning their heads to see what happened.

Their alarm bells went off when they saw their little brother come in. The shower went off, and another young man rushed toward the front wearing nothing but a towel, ready to fight. The fourth young man ran shortly behind him, drenched in sweat. Only the fifth one hasn't moved. He was still trying to finish his work.

All four watched as their little brother stomped upstairs, where they heard him slam his bedroom door. This also caused the fifth to finally walk downstairs to face his four brothers, confusion engraved on his sharp facial features.

“He didn’t close the door,” Roland, who was relaxing in the living room, was the first to speak.

All four others looked at the door and nodded that he was right. And that it was extraordinary as the youngest has been very strict with safety since a break in two years prior.

“He looked upset,” Markus, still chewing on his stolen food, told the others, concern written on his face.

Another silence fell over them as all five looked at each other. All nodded again, having seen it too.

“I saw tears in his eyes,” said Leon, the one in the towel, as he ran a hand through his medium-length, wet hair.

This was the first time not everyone nodded, as most hadn't seen them because they were focused on other things.

“He had his fists clenched, and there was a bit of blood on his collar,” said Chris, the fourth, still drenched in sweat.

Another time, no one said anything, growing more worried by the second as they all knew how gentle and kind their little brother had always been. No one could truly believe that he would do something that could harm another person.

When Jakob felt their expectant gaze, he could hardly meet their eyes.

"He didn't greet me," he said in a fearful tone. "Did I do something wrong?"

The other four looked at him in shock, wondering if that was the only thing he cared about. They knew he was a bit of an idiot, but this?

“And he brought mud into the house.”

Confused, all the other four looked at the ground but couldn't see anything, but when the fifth pointed to the stairs their little brother had stomped up, they saw the steps were covered in fresh mud.

“At least you have more on your head than expected,” Roland and Leon said simultaneously, already used to Jakob’s idiocy. But contrary to expectations, Jacob was not angry. The opposite was clearly visible on his face: he was thrilled.

“Do you guys mean it?” he asked with sparkling eyes. He believed his hopes that the hours of staring at his books had finally helped as he always felt inferior, especially to their youngest brother.

All four others looked at each other just before they shook their heads. They walked past him, patting him on the chest, shoulders, and back with deep empathy. Jacob couldn't understand why they did this, but he still believed they were proud of him for becoming smarter. He bathed in the love of his brothers.

He bathed in it for so long that his brothers were already upstairs and stood in front of their youngest brother's door, knocking on it relentlessly.

When Jacob realized this, he quickly jumped up the stairs, threw himself in front of the door, and looked at his brothers disapprovingly.

“That’s enough!" His voice boomed through the narrow hallways of their home. "He's already emotionally exhausted. Pressuring him to tell you what happened will only make things worse!”

All the other four looked at Jacob like he was growing a second head, confused as to why he was reacting so violently.

Just a moment later, as the emotions within all five of them grew more and more intense, the door they were all standing in front of suddenly opened. Two arms reached out from it and wrapped themselves around Jacob's trained body. Tears soaked his shirt as his little brother cried sorrowfully into him. Jakob turned around carefully without breaking contact with his little brother. All of the other four stared at him with increasing confusion.

“Come on, let’s get in and sit down, okay? You must be tired."

No one thought their little brother would say anything, but to their shock, he agreed in a weak voice. Immediately afterward, Jacob lifted him into the air and carried him to the bed. Almost as if he had done so hundreds of times.

They lingered in the hallway, unsure if they should follow, but ultimately decided to enter their youngest brother's bedroom. They were shocked by their fifth brother's sudden change; he had never been so considerate.

They all found themselves sitting around Jakob and their little brother sitting on his lap, crying his eyes out, sputtering words nobody except for Jakob could understand.

“Brett did this to you? I swear-" The younger man desperately tried to calm Jacob down. And it worked quickly. "Yeah, okay. I promise we won't do anything that could get us into big trouble." Suddenly, the younger brother slapped him on the arm. "Okay," Jakob said, laughing, "We're not doing anything!"

The four other brothers could do nothing but look at the pair in confusion. Jacob felt their eyes on him, so he finally turned to his other brothers. In an almost dismissive tone, he asked, “What?”

“What did Brett do?” all four asked simultaneously.

“Oh, he fought with Liam again. And our little one here tried to get some distance between the two, but Brett attacked him. He didn't fight back because he was his boyfriend. But Brett didn't apologize. And on the way home, he was attacked by some hunters. The blood is theirs.”

The four others looked at each other and were even more confused, but Markus asked anyway: "And you got this from incomprehensible words?"

“You didn't?” Jacob knew then he could do something the others didn’t, and he loved it. “We have a special bond since our little one helps me with everything, and I train him. We are together almost all day.”

Jealousy was clearly visible on everyone else's faces, and before Jacob knew it, they were all jumping on him and their little one. He could barely protect their little brother with his arms and hardly put any distance between him and their four other brothers.

“Are all quintuplets as annoying as you?” asked the youngest of the six siblings, annoyed, barely able to speak through his tears.

“We just love you!” the five said to him in unison.

They cuddle and tickle their youngest, and soon, laughter fills his once-depressing bedroom. Despite losing their parents a long time ago, their family has never fallen apart, and it's all because of their youngest, as the five knew they had to protect him and because he is the last Alpha of their family.

When evening came, and the youngest was sound asleep, the quintuplets, all dressed in camouflage clothing, stood at the front door. They were ready to hunt down their little one's ex-boyfriend for hurting him.

As Markus reached for the front door handle, a sharp voice cut through the air, causing him to freeze like his identical brothers.

"And where do you think you're going?" asked the youngest from the bottom of the stairs.

An eerie silence fell over the five's previously gloomy but happy mood. Everyone looked back and saw their little brothers' red Alpha eyes. Quickly, they looked at each other fearfully. They knew they couldn't get out of this without getting a good scolding from him. Markus opened the door wide and fled so fast he knew their little one couldn't get after him, and most of his identical brothers did the same, except for Jacob. He wasn't quick enough to run out, as he had been staring at their little brother for too long to catch him before he could reach the door. The youngest brother slammed the door and locked it, his eyes looking deep into his older brother's blue glowing Beta ones. Jacob swallowed loudly and fell to his knees, ready to tell his brother anything he wanted to hear.

[Masterlist]

[kittenofdoomage]

Inherited Spirits

THIS WORK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY STORIES. 18+ CONTENT AHEAD.

Summary: Your life changes with the revelation of a secret, but is it for the better?

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Ghost!Sam Winchester x fem!reader, original male character x fem!reader (it’s brief and not smutty)

Word Count: 9414

Warnings: angst, inheritance, ugly break ups, mentions of depression/anxiety, family secrets, grief, familial loss, ghosts, fluff, smut (ghost sex), obligatory I’m not a lawyer so the lawyer speak is fictional, introvert!reader, paranormal romance

“Here are the keys to the house,” the lawyer said, placing a thick ring with seven keys on it in front of you. Beside it, was an envelope, neatly inscribed with your full name, containing all the information about the house and your inheritance.

You had never seen it coming. As far as you’d known, both your paternal grandparents were dead, and you were the last of that particular family line, an orphan since your father had died last year, on the heels of your mother’s long fight with cancer. So to say it had been a shock when you’d gotten the call that your grandfather had died, even more so when they’d asked you to come in to discuss assets.

Brett was excited. You could tell by the way he practically vibrated in the chair next to you, and you felt a hollow disappointment when you realized he was already spending what you had inherited. Your parents had not only hidden the secret of your grandfather’s existence, they’d also neglected to mention that he was very very wealthy.

“There’s a special dispensation for the staff of the household,” the lawyer continued, barely looking up from his copy of the documents. “The housekeeper, Ellen Harvelle, and the groundskeeper, Bobby Singer - they are to be kept on until retirement. If you sell the house, it will be a legal requirement for any new owners.”

“S-sell?” you whispered. You hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Of course, as your grandfather’s lawyer, my services will always be available to the family,” the lawyer went on. “All I need is your signature, and we can release the funds.”

You signed, dazed and confused, half-certain you were dreaming. When you walked out with Brett, he could barely contain himself, and as soon as you were in the car, he crowed and thumped the steering wheel making you jump. “Six hundred million dollars, Y/N!” he cried, looking at you, obviously expecting a similar level of excitement.

Staring at the envelope and keys in your hands, you shook your head in disbelief. “Is this real?” you muttered.

Brett laughed, throwing his head back in joy. “Baby, we’re rich!” He didn’t wait for you to answer, sitting back in the chair with a huge grin on his face. “We can do anything,” he sighed. “We could get married.” You lifted your head in surprise. “Have kids.”

Narrowing your eyes, you turned to look at him. “Kids?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Why not, I mean -”

“It was never about money, Brett,” you reminded him sternly. “I told you I don’t want kids. I don’t even like children.”

“Okay,” he muttered defensively. “So we go traveling instead. We could go anywhere with that kinda money.” His eyes lit up. “I can finally tell Tony to shove his stupid head up his ass.”

The ball of disappointment that had started in the lawyer’s office began to get stronger. “I don’t think we need to rush into anything,” you said slowly. “This is a big change. I don’t know if I want anyone to know.”

He scowled. “What? So I can’t even tell my mom?”

If you were honest, his mother was the last person you wanted to know, but you didn’t want to piss him off, so you forced yourself to smile calmly. “I just think we should be careful,” you explained. “People get weird about money.”

It was obvious he didn’t agree. He turned the key in the ignition, and the truck roared to life. “Why don’t we get some dinner to celebrate?” he suggested.

“I guess,” you nodded, clipping your seatbelt in, hopeful that was the end of the conversation for the time being.

It was not.

Brett made it all of twenty minutes before he was suggesting vacations, talking about replacing his truck, selling the house and the assets for even more money. You didn’t say a word until it came to ordering food at the drive thru, and when Brett pulled up to the window, he held out his hand for your debit card. Guilt clogged your throat, and you pulled it out of your purse, handing it over.

“It’s not like you can’t afford it,” he joked; it left a sour taste in your mouth.

He didn’t stop after dinner either, or when you got home. You were certain you’d left your actual boyfriend in the lawyer’s office, and that this man was a stranger, obsessed with the material, taking over the decisions like it was all his. The sudden change in his attitude was enough to keep you silent, at least until he circled back around to marriage and kids.

“You wouldn’t even have to raise them,” he laughed. “We could afford a nanny.”

Something snapped. You sat straight, glaring at him. “Enough!” He froze like a deer in headlights. “You’re acting like you won the lottery! Since when did you care about vacations in Hawaii, or a big wedding, or cars, or - or kids?!” you shrieked. “When we got together, I was clear that I didn't want any of those things. I thought we were on the same page!”

“Things have changed!” he yelled back, thumping his fist against the couch.

“For me!” you shouted, getting to your feet. “I just found out that I had family left, Brett. I had family and I never knew them. And all you care about is the money? It’s not even your inheritance, it’s mine!”

Everything about him changed. His demeanor became stiff and unyielding, and he stood, looming over you, and for the first time in your relationship, the look in his eyes scared the absolute shit out of you. “Oh, it’s yours, huh? Is this why you don’t wanna get married? Don’t wanna share?”

“It’s got nothing to do with sharing!” you defended, backing away from him, truly frightened he would actually hurt you. You knew it at that exact moment - the relationship was already dead, you wouldn’t be with someone who could switch their personality on a dime like that. “You’re not acting like the man I fell in love with. The way you’ve instantly decided to depend on me -”

That triggered something and his face turned red. “Depend?” he snapped. “What, I don’t get anything back after carrying your anxious, depressed ass for three years?”

His words were like a knife, and tears instantly filled your eyes. The shock of what he’d said made you cover your mouth, unable to believe the man you loved would use your problems against you like that. Brett softened for a second, obviously realizing he’d gone too far, but you were already walking away, fighting to contain your tears.

“Baby, I’m sorry -”

“No,” you sobbed, refusing to look at him. “You can’t take that back.” You hated looking weak in front of him, feeling like a burden, and his words had hit their mark, right in your insecurities. “I think… I think I’m gonna go.”

He looked alarmed at that, holding his hands up. “Wait, what?”

“I need to…” You shook your head, because you weren’t sure what you needed, only that you couldn’t be near him any longer. Heading for the bedroom, you quickly packed a bag of things you couldn’t replace, not that you had much, wondering the whole time if he’d try and stop you. 

He was blocking the front door when you walked out into the hall, eyes fixed on you. “Y/N, please, I didn’t mean it -”

“You did,” you replied coolly, though inside you were breaking into pieces. He stared at you impassively, still blocking the way. “Brett, please move.”

For a second, you thought he might get physical, and then he stepped aside, giving you the space to leave. “Baby -”

“I’ll call you in a couple of days,” you said firmly. “Just… give me some space.”

He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets, and you grabbed your purse, turning your back on him, cutting off his declaration that he loved you by slamming the front door. You couldn’t stop the tears falling as you walked down the path to the curb, putting your bags in the backseat before pulling the keys to your inherited house and the address out of the envelope. There was only one place you could go.

Hawstead Manor was old and isolated, and it was nearing dawn when you finally pulled up to the driveway. You had to get out to open the gate with the provided code, and you were relieved to see a long paved road up the front of the house; your car might not have made it on rougher terrain. The gate closed automatically behind you, and you kept going once you were sure it was shut, parking up in front of a large garage. As expected, the house was dark, and you fumbled with the keys before finally finding the right one, letting yourself in.

It was cold inside, and you were exhausted. Once you’d found the living room, and a couch, you dumped your bags on the floor and curled up on the cushions, intent on napping for a few hours before exploring the place.

A delicious aroma roused you hours later. You sat up, and the blanket that had been covering you slipped down, making you frown as you couldn’t recall there being a blanket when you had lain down. There was noise coming from somewhere else in the house, and you remembered the lawyer mentioning a housekeeper, so you assumed she had covered you with the blanket when she arrived.

You stretched, abandoning your makeshift bed, following your nose and the noise through the halls to the huge kitchen. A woman was standing at the stove, flipping bacon, and she looked up when you walked in. “Good morning,” she greeted. “You must be Miss. Y/N.”

“Just Y/N,” you corrected with a smile. “Are you the, uh, housekeeper?”

“That I am,” she chuckled, carrying the pan over to the next counter. “Ellen Harvelle at your service. I got here a couple of hours ago, thought you might like some food after driving all night.”

“That’s very kind of you. And thanks for the blanket.” 

She frowned as she glanced at you. “What blanket?”

“Oh, there was -” It seemed odd, but maybe you had just been that tired when you had arrived. “Nevermind.” You slipped onto one of the stools at the kitchen island, looking around at the fairly modern appliances. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a kitchen so nice,” you murmured, and Ellen laughed under her breath.

“Your grandfather was quite the fan of gadgets,” she explained, piling bacon and eggs onto the plate. The toaster popped and she grabbed the bread almost out of the air, placing it beside the already huge serving. As she carried the plate over to you, your stomach growled, and you smiled gratefully when your meal was in front of you.

“What was he like?” you asked. “My dad never told me anything about him.”

Ellen sighed softly. “He was a complicated man. I know that he missed your father greatly, that he wished he could have had a relationship with you.” She picked up the coffee pot, glancing back at you as she gestured to an empty mug. “Coffee?” she asked. “Or I can make tea if you prefer?”

“Coffee is great,” you answered, lifting a forkful of eggs. Your eyes closed at the delicious taste, and you moaned decadently. “This is wonderful, by the way.”

“I’m glad you like them. That’s how Charles liked them too.” She placed a full mug of coffee beside you, along with sugar and a small pot of cream. Though being served was unusual outside of a restaurant, it had been a long time since anyone cooked for you, so you appreciated it. “May I ask,” Ellen started as she poured her own cup of coffee, “did you intend to drive here last night?”

You swallowed your mouthful, sighing as you stared at the bacon. “No, I - I didn’t have anywhere else to. My boyfriend and I… we had a fight.”

Her features softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled, picking up a piece of bacon to chew on. It was perfectly cooked; you had to refrain from moaning again. “I guess, when I found out about the inheritance, I didn’t know what to do. It’s a lot of money, and big words I’m gonna have to google.” She laughed at that, and you smiled for a second. “Brett got weird. Acted like we should suddenly be jetting across the world, talking about marriage and children, and… those things just aren’t important to me.”

“Money makes people act funny,” Ellen murmured, nodding her head. “Maybe he just needs some time to come back to reality.”

You shook your head. “I thought that at first. But then he - he got scary. A-and really mean. Just for a second. But I promised myself I’d never let anyone treat me like that. I’m not sure I can trust him anymore. It felt like all he cared about was dollar signs, like he was a different person.”

“You know, I may have only just met you, but -” She took a seat opposite you and leaned her elbows on the island. “You remind me a lot of your grandfather. He was a kind, gentle soul, preferred his own company.”

“I wish I could have met him,” you sighed. “I don’t even know why my dad stopped talking to him. He just said he’d died after my grandmother, I never knew any different.”

She hummed lightly. “They had a difficult relationship after your grandmother died. Charles was lost without her. Of course, that was forty years ago, when my mother was the housekeeper here. I only met your father twice, and the second time was the last time your grandfather spoke to him, shortly after you were born. Not that Charles ever stopped trying.”

The back door opened, and a male voice called through. “Ellen? Ellen! There’s some crappy Toyota parked outside the garage -” Heavy footsteps came through the hall, and an older gentleman appeared, stopping dead when he saw you sitting at the island. He whipped his trucker cap off, holding it to his chest. “Apologies, I didn’t know the new lady of the house was here already.”

“This here,” Ellen chuckled, “is Bobby Singer, the groundskeeper.”

“Hi,” you greeted, waving a little. “Is my car in the way?”

“No, no!” he rushed out, stepping forward with his hands up, obviously worried he’d caused offense. “We just don’t get many visitors, no one told me you were comin’ -”

“It was a little last minute,” you interrupted gently, trying to convey that you weren’t upset by his comment - your old battered car was pretty crappy. “I got here really early.”

Ellen got up, preparing another cup of coffee before handing it to Bobby, who took it gratefully. “Y/N is going to be staying for a few days at least. Maybe you could give her a tour of the grounds later on.”

You smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” she grinned, “now eat up before it gets cold.”

By the time you were done eating, there were seven missed calls on your phone and twice as many texts, all from Brett. He had left a voicemail, asking you to call him back because he was worried, so you sent him a text to say you were fine and that you would call when you were ready. He didn’t wait, calling as soon as he received the text, and you sighed in disgust, tossing your phone onto the couch to let it ring.

Bobby had told you to meet him outside the garage after lunch, so you spent the morning exploring the old house. It was bigger than you imagined, with more bedrooms than you could ever need, definitely more bathrooms, and your grandfather’s love of gadgets became obvious when you discovered a home cinema in the basement, along with a large assortment of trains. “Grandpa was a train nerd,” you mused as you inspected the huge model dominating the second of the downstairs rooms.

On the third floor, smaller than the others, there was a study and a drawing room, with windows that provided sweeping views of the woodland surrounding the house. It was certainly an isolated home - the nearest town was a half hour drive at least, and you had no idea if anything delivered out this far, making a mental note to check out your options later. Ellen had already given you the wifi code, though you had yet to test it. You clearly had a good signal if Brett’s calls were coming through.

You picked the smallest bedroom, even if it could hardly be called small. It had an ensuite like most of the bedrooms, and a quick glance confirmed a spa-like bathtub with a futuristic looking shower. Everything about the house was fancy, making you feel more and more like an imposter as you kept exploring.

Downstairs, aside from the kitchen and the living room you’d slept in, there was another study, leading to a library. It was huge, like most of the other rooms, with shelves of books so high that there was an actual sliding ladder. You gasped as you took in the true scope of the reading material available, feeling every bit like Belle in Beauty and the Beast, sans the kidnapping and Stockholm Syndrome.

More than ever, you wished you could have met the man who apparently shared most of your interests. You had never been much like either of your parents, sometimes wondering if you were adopted, but now it made sense. A tiny part of you was angry that this connection had been kept from you, that it should have been your choice whether to have it or not, even if your father was angry with his own.

Ellen left out a delicious lunch for you, and you munched it as you scrolled through your phone, ignoring the outstanding calls and messages from Brett. He seemed to have given up for the time being, and you were grateful for the reprieve while you decided what to do about the whole situation. You weren’t sure if he would have told anyone about your unexpected change of circumstances, and you hoped he hadn’t, but just in case, you put your phone on “do not disturb” for the rest of the day.

Your tour around the grounds yielded more surprises. Bobby showed you the garage, then took you down to the unused stables that were sometimes rented out in the summer along with the three grassy fields. He showed you where the woods that occupied most of the estate began, and his little cottage tucked at the far end of the gardens.

“I’m always on hand,” he promised. “We’ve got cameras up on most of the external exits and windows, and the perimeter is quite secure. Old Charlie didn’t take the matter lightly.”

You liked Bobby. He was very stern looking, but it was obvious he cared a lot about the property, and that he’d been close with your grandfather. His tour was sprinkled with little bits of information about him, helping you to build a better idea of what he’d been like in your head, though he didn’t hold back on his opinion of your father, or the grief your grandfather had felt at being kept away from his only grandchild.

By nighttime, Ellen had gone home, and Bobby had gone off to check the fences and change the code on the gate to something you could remember easily. The house was quiet, and you took your things up to the bedroom, collecting your phone on the way. You sat cross-legged on the bed, staring at Brett’s number, wondering if you even wanted to call him.

A new voicemail notification joined the others. Frowning at it, you dial your inbox, listening to all the messages from Brett, all of them along the lines of “baby, I love you” and “please call me”, though none included an apology. The last was from a mutual friend, Emily, and there was music playing loudly in the background.

“Y/N, I don’t know what’s happened with you and Brett, but, uh, we just saw him and he said a bunch of stuff about money, that you were cheating on him, and… well, none of it sounded like you, so could you just lemme know you’re okay?”

Your heart felt like it was cracking in two as you listened. Cheating? You would never cheat.

Calling her back made you feel too anxious, so you texted her a quick “I’m fine, we had a fight, I didn’t cheat” and waited, watching the three dots blink as she typed a message in return.

I think you should call him

You moved your fingers, ready to type, then a photo came through, loading in a split second. It was Brett, on a couch in a club you vaguely recognized, with a slim blonde in his lap. His tongue was clearly in her mouth, and his hand was underneath her short skirt, and you sobbed, covering your mouth with your hand as you fought the urge to throw up. You didn’t reply to Emily, tossing your phone as you let the tears fall, ignoring her next message.

A chill ran through you, and you fell to the side, curling into the cushions as you continued to cry. Eventually, the tears dried up, and you drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

The next morning, it took a few seconds to clear the fog and remember where you were. You’d moved at some point during the night, somehow getting yourself underneath the covers properly, cushioning your head against the pillows. Slowly, you sat up, feeling a little drained and zombie-ish as you stared at your phone on the nightstand, remembering the photo Emily had sent you. The nausea returned, and you pushed it down, picking up your phone as you headed downstairs. Ellen was already cleaning, and she had breakfast ready for you again, toast this time, with dipping eggs. You tried to keep a happy face on, even if you couldn’t stop seeing Brett’s hands on that woman, staying largely silent as you ate.

The phone started to ring just as you finished your coffee. Picking it up, you saw Brett’s name and sighed, knowing you had to confront him, to end it now instead of trying to pretend nothing had happened. Ellen gave you a reassuring touch on the shoulder, then made herself scarce without needing to be asked.

“Hello?”

“Finally, she answers,” he growled in response, and anger bristled along your spine. “You got any idea how worried I’ve been?”

You couldn’t help your words, allowing spite to rule them. “So worried you put your tongue down someone’s throat last night?” He stuttered, and the anger in your chest became a rage. “Emily said she bumped into you. The way she tells it, you’re not only telling everyone my private information that I didn’t want out there, but you’re lying as well, because I sure as hell didn’t cheat on you, Brett!”

More stuttering followed. “Baby!” he yelled. “Just let me explain -”

“No,” you replied firmly, sitting straighter. “I thought I knew who you were but you’re just another douche bag. It took you all of a day to cheat. That says way more than you ever need to.”

“Oh come on, it was a kiss!” he cried. “She meant nothing, you and me, we got a good thing. I don’t care about the money!”

“I never said anything about the money,” you said coolly. “But I guess that’s the only reason you’re calling huh? You don’t wanna let the golden goose get away.”

You could almost feel his anger through the phone, so you weren’t surprised when he spoke again. “You’re a selfish, stuck-up bitch, you know that?” he snarled. “I stuck with you the whole, even when you were so miserable it made me wanna kill myself. Everyone said you weren’t worth it, but I stayed.” He laughed bitterly. “Even the sex wasn’t that good. You really think anyone’s gonna touch you even if you’re worth a couple mil?”

His words hurt and fresh tears filled your eyes. The urge to fight back was there, but that meant letting him know you were getting to him. Instead, you kept your tone steady and even as you replied; “Maybe I’ll be alone, but I’ll be alone sipping mojitos on a beach in Hawaii while you’re downing beers at Kenny’s. You can toss all my shit by the way, it’s all replaceable.” You paused, deciding to be petty after all. “Just like you.”

You hung up, exhaling hard as the strength left you, blocking his number instantly before going through all your social media, deleting all of it. There wasn’t a wealth of people you really talked to anymore, all of your friends were the same as his friends, making you wonder why they’d never warned you about the real Brett. Your only living relative was on your mother’s side, an aunt in Florida who you hadn’t seen in ten years, more of a Christmas card relative than anything else.

Wiping your face, you turned your phone off. At some point, you’d have to make contact with work and tell them you didn’t plan on returning. If this inheritance had given you anything, it was the freedom to start fresh, and you didn’t intend on wasting any more time on your former life.

“Everything okay?” Ellen asked, stepping back into the room.

You sniffed and nodded at her. “It will be,” you replied with a weak smile. “I think I’m gonna be staying here longer than a few days.”

She beamed, clasping her hands together. “Wonderful! Are you having your belongings sent?”

“No,” you mused, smiling a little wider. “I’m gonna have to go shopping.”

Within a week, you were already feeling like Hawstead Manor was home. A few days after your decision to stay, there was a delivery from Brett, boxes of your burned and destroyed belongings. You trashed all of it, ignoring the pain of his betrayal, focusing on the good instead. With the help of Mr. Branning, your grandfather’s lawyer, you sorted through the assets, trusting in your grandfather’s extensive directive on what to do. He hadn’t missed a thing, and you were grateful for the help of Mr. Branning’s office, along with Ellen’s.

You knew you didn’t want to sell the house, or any of the land. It seemed important to keep things as they were, so save for your own room, you didn’t change a thing inside; you liked the spirit of the house, finding it comforting, welcoming, even at night when it was empty except for you.

The stranger things didn’t go unnoticed. Frequently when you fell asleep in the library, you’d woken with a blanket draped over you that you hadn’t put there yourself. Sometimes things were put away when you’d left them out, and during the day, you could believe that it was Ellen, but it happened often when she wasn’t there. Lights flickered for no reason, and curtains moved when there was no breeze, always just enough to catch your eye but never happening when you looked for it.

Still, you kept exploring the house, amazed at the many curiosities contained within it. When you found your grandfather’s journal, and the many letters he’d written to you and your father, the mystery of why they didn’t speak became a little clearer.

Your grandfather believed in ghosts. He’d spent a lot of time and money researching them after your grandmother died, convinced he could contact her. When he became a little too obsessed, your dad had decided he was insane, and refused to speak with him until he gave up on his attempts to reach the beyond. In letters, written after you were born, he apologized, begging for forgiveness, but refused to give up on his belief.

The letters to you were all wondering what kind of child you were growing into, his hopes for your future, regrets that he was not a part of your life. There were only a few, usually dated around your birthday, accompanied by numerous cards of varying ages, all the way up until your most recent one only a month ago, the envelope emblazoned with only your name. Inside, he spoke of trying to find you before he died, of secrets he wanted to share. The handwriting was messier than the others, and the message was shorter, ending with “please take care of Sam, he gets lonely”.

You had no idea what it meant.

Putting the letters away to read again later, you turned away from the desk, yelping when you saw a man standing a few feet away. He stared at you, wide-eyed, then darted soundlessly out of the door. You followed him, but as you reached the hallway, he was gone. Searching the rooms yielded only Ellen vacuuming, and she stopped when you walked in. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“I thought - there was a guy -” You couldn’t describe it without sounding insane, at least to your own ears. “Maybe I imagined it. I was in the study, I found these letters, and then he was standing there -”

“Oh,” Ellen breathed. “You met Sam.”

You froze. “Huh?”

She smiled. “I’m surprised it took him so long to show himself, to be honest.”

“He’s real?” you asked, remembering the last words of your grandfather’s letter. Ellen nodded, putting the kettle on to make tea. “So ghosts are real.”

“Well,” she shrugged, “one ghost is real. And I’ve only seen him once, right after Charles passed. He talked about him a lot.”

“And it’s definitely not some inherited mental illness I should be concerned about?” you laughed nervously.

“No,” Ellen chuckled. “He’s definitely real. Bobby’s seen him a few times, always from a distance, mind. Sam only ever materialized around Charles, which makes sense since they were friends when they were alive, or so he would tell it.”

The information was bewildering, and made you more curious about the specter. “Did he die here?”

“Mmhmm, it was a long time ago. He was only in his thirties. His brother lived near here for a long time, but I think he passed on about ten years ago. Sam was Charles’ childhood friend.”

“How did he die?”

Ellen smiled gently, pulling two cups from the cupboard. “I have no idea,” she continued. “Charles was always light on the details. Said it wasn’t his story to tell. But it was sudden, from what I gathered.” She paused as she placed the cups on the countertop. “He’s not violent,” she added. “Sam, I mean. He’s quite friendly actually. I’ve never felt afraid here a moment in my life.”

You hadn’t gotten any kind of scary vibe off of the man you’d seen, and now you knew he was real, you were wondering how to get him to talk to you. If he was so close with your grandfather, he might be able to tell you more about him, to enable you to feel a little bit closer to the lost part of your family. As you mulled over your thoughts, Ellen made tea for the both of you, chatting over a few cookies before she attended to the rest of her day’s chores.

Not wanting to get in her way, you head for the library again, intent on losing yourself in a book or two. Every creak had you looking up, searching for the elusive Sam, though part of you still wondered if you weren’t just mad. Eventually, you dozed off, and when you woke, another blanket was covering you, and the fireplace was lit, filling the room with warmth.

The turn of a page made you look over to the opposing armchair. A man was sitting there, appearing as real as any person she’d ever seen, quietly reading a book - it was the same man you had only caught a glimpse of earlier.

You sat up. He noticed, lifting his gaze to you with a tiny smile. “Hello,” he greeted softly.

“Hi,” you squeaked back. “You’re… Sam.”

His smile grew. “And you’re Charles’ granddaughter,” he replied, finishing with your name. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Shifting the chair, you regarded him for a second, analyzing every detail. He was obviously tall from the way his knees jutted up when seated, and he was dressed casually in jeans and a flannel shirt. His hair was shaggy, long enough that it framed his handsome face perfectly. “You could have met me earlier,” you reminded him with a smile. “But you disappeared.”

“I was nervous,” he explained, closing his book. “Sometimes, people get frightened. I’m very careful who I show myself to but… I heard Ellen explaining. And you… you seem kind.”

“Ellen said you only showed yourself to my grandfather,” you said cautiously. “She said you were friends when you were, uh, alive. And after, I guess.”

He nodded, placing the book on the table between the two armchairs. “I hope you don’t mind that I put the fireplace on. There was a draft and you looked cold.” Getting up, he moved to a wicker basket containing a small stack of logs. “Bobby always keeps this topped up, so don’t worry about using too much.”

“Has it been you with the blankets?” you asked.

“Guilty,” he mumbled, selecting a log to toss into the flames. You watched as he picked it up, fascinated by his ability to move objects, to appear so… solid. As he returned to his seat, he smiled at you. “I bet you have a ton of questions.”

You ducked your head, feeling heat in your face that didn’t come from the fire. “Just a few,” you admitted, and he chuckled lightly. “I guess you’re used to it.”

“Actually,” he sighed, tilting his head lightly, “Charlie was the only one I ever really spoke to. I’m not even sure I have all the answers. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why there aren’t others.” A smile tugged at his lips. “I spent a few days wondering if your grandfather would show up but… I guess not.”

“Ellen said you died here.”

With a low laugh, he shook his head. “You’re gonna think it’s stupid,” he warned lightheartedly. You didn’t say anything, and his laugh became a smile. “I think your dad must have been two, maybe three? His mom was alive, and there was this big fourth of July party, Charlie must have invited the whole town.” He met your gaze, still grinning. “A firework exploded in the wrong direction. Hit one of the stone gargoyles on the roof, it dropped, and I just about remember it landing on my head.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “That’s… one way to die, I guess?”

He shrugged. “I can’t change it, and I’ve had fifty years to think about it, it doesn’t really bother me anymore.” For a few seconds, he was silent, watching you, and you felt a shiver go down your spine. “It’s nice to talk to someone new.”

“You never wanted to talk to Ellen or Bobby?” you asked curiously.

“I’m a little selective on who I appear to,” he replied. “I know they know but Bobby is superstitious and prefers to ignore that I exist. Saw him salting the doors of his cottage once, so I kept my distance. And Ellen… Ellen reminds me too much of my mom. She talks to me sometimes, I just… I don’t talk back.” He looked down at his hands, smiling fondly. “It took a long time for me to realize what had happened. I was appearing randomly in rooms for nearly ten years before I could control it.”

“You seem kinda solid now,” you pointed out.

His smile was almost addicting. Whenever his lips curled up, dimples appeared in his cheeks, and you wistfully imagined you could spend all day looking at his smile. As he spoke, telling you about his first appearance in front of your grandfather, you realized you could probably listen to him talk all day too, but as the night wore on, your tiredness did not hide itself.

“You look exhausted,” Sam murmured, glancing up at the clock.

“It’s not even nine,” you yawned, stretching in the chair. “I feel like such an old lady some days.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckled, “kinda can’t, for one. I can’t tell you my whole life story in one night, or we won’t have anything to talk about tomorrow.”

You smiled at him, raising an eyebrow questioningly. “Tomorrow?”

The tone of his voice changed with his nerves. “If you want to.”

Getting to your feet, you folded the blanket and placed it on the chair. “Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

The weather took a turn over the next few days with a constant rain that kept you indoors, not that you needed an excuse to stay inside. You only left when you had to, usually for groceries, but aside from that, you spent nearly every waking moment in Sam’s company, whether it was in the library, the study, or occasionally the media room in the basement. The more you got to know him, the more you liked him, even if it felt a little ridiculous to be developing feelings for a dead man, especially so soon after the end of what you had thought was a long term relationship.

Sam flirted, of course, but he always toed the line, never getting too close, hesitant to touch you at the start. You had eventually asked if he could touch anyone, and he had responded by pressing his cool palm to the curve of your jaw; you kept thinking about that moment over and over.

Autumn took hold. The trees surrounding the manor turned from greens to reds and oranges, and you frequently found yourself watching the leaves fall from the windows. You had found a peace in that place that you’d never known anywhere else, so leaving your old life behind was easier than you thought it would be. Occasionally, you would reply to texts from your friends, and as time went on, you realized Brett had kept his mouth shut on the subject of your inheritance, a surprising but welcome reaction.

You didn’t hide anything about your former relationship from Sam. You didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him, wanted him to know you as well as you were getting to know him. When the tears came, he comforted you, and somehow managed to make you forget about the pain of your ex-boyfriend’s betrayal, some days simply by being there. There had never been a soul in your life you were as comfortable with as your ghostly housemate.

The nights grew darker more quickly than you expected, maybe because the estate was so isolated. You learned how to work the fireplace, preferring that to the central heating, and began spending longer evenings in the library steadily working your way through the vast collection of books. One night, Sam appeared after being absent all day, and you smiled up at him as he hovered by the fireplace, slowly solidifying.

“Hey,” you greeted, sitting up straight. You slid a bookmark into your book, and placed it on the table, tilting your head curiously when he didn’t say a word. “Are you okay?”

He smiled, but there was a bitter edge to it. Confusion forced you to your feet, and you let the blanket over your lap fall to the floor as you approached him. He didn’t move, leaning into your hand when you touched his face, still surprised by his cooler skin.

“Sam? Talk to me,” you pleaded.

Taking hold of your hand, he led you back to your chair, guiding you to sit down before dropping to his knees in front of you. “I had to think,” he started softly, cupping your hands in his own, resting against your knees. “These last few weeks… I’ve…” He scoffed lightly, trailing off.

“It’s okay,” you encouraged, curling your fingers into his. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

His eyes locked on yours with a new spark in them you hadn’t seen before. “I remember my life. I remember never finding anyone that I connected with, at least, not romantically. Then I was dead, and that hope was gone, especially since I’m apparently the only soul unlucky enough to get trapped.” He smiled, rubbing his thumbs across your knuckles. “When you arrived here -”

The doorbell echoed through the house, cutting him off. With a frown, you tugged your hands from his grasp and got to your feet, shooting him an apologetic smile. “I should -”

“Of course,” he nodded, and you darted off, unsure who would be calling at such a late hour, but unable to ignore that it might be an emergency. As you reached the door and opened it, you were in no way prepared for who was standing on the other side.

“Brett!” you exclaimed in surprise at your sheepish looking ex-boyfriend, who instantly thrust some flowers towards you. When you stepped back, bewildered at the sudden invasion of your private space, he took it as permission to enter, forcing you back further. “W-what are you doing here?”

He was looking around already, nosing at the house. “Well, you know, I thought it’s been a few weeks, that maybe we could talk.”

You narrowed your eyes, keeping the door open. “About what?”

“Us,” he replied hopefully, coming closer to you, reaching for your hand. “I miss you.”

Before he could touch you, you snatched your hand away, scowling at him. “That’s unfortunate,” you muttered, “but you can’t just show up in the middle of the night -” Something tickled at your nose and you realized it was the scent of booze, specifically beer. “Oh my god, are you drunk?” Your eyes widened. “Did you drive here drunk?”

“No,” he scoffed. “I drove to the motel in town, and I got nervous, so I had a few beers and then I got a cab… speaking of which, do you have a couple dollars so I can pay the guy?”

His audacity was unreal. Your mouth opened and closed in shock; you were too stunned by his brazenness to think straight. He took it as a positive, smiling brightly at you.

“I knew you missed me,” he grinned, moving in closer, crowding you, and you snapped out of it just in time to push him back, crushing the bouquet of flowers against his chest. “Baby, come on -”

“We’re done, Brett!” you shrieked. “You need to leave.”

His expression turned thunderous. He opened his mouth to speak, and then someone else appeared around the corner. Sam stepped into view, solid and decidedly not ghostly, and for a second, you hoped a witness might scare Brett off. “Is there a problem, Y/N?” Sam asked carefully, keeping his attention on Brett.

“Who the fuck are you?” your ex screeched at him before turning on you. “So you were cheating? Shacking up with this rich boy, huh? Guess you were a little slut all along.” He sneered unpleasantly as you cowered, ashamed at the way he frightened you.

“I would suggest shutting your mouth,” Sam replied coolly, stepping closer. Even if he wasn’t dead and more than capable of killing the man, he had a few inches on him, and he was clearly unhappy with the nastiness Brett was spewing.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

Sam glanced at you. “You wanna step out?” he asked.

“Nah, she stays right there,” Brett objected, throwing an arm between you and Sam. “I want her to see me beat your ass into the fucking ground.”

The lights flickered. You clutched at the door, pressing yourself into the wall as everything grew darker, and Brett swung for Sam, connecting with nothing. Sam disappeared, then reappeared, mostly transparent. The paintings on the walls began to rattle, and horrific screeches came from all directions, accompanied by a chilly wind that made ornaments topple and the chandeliers swing. Reaching out, Sam caught Brett by the throat, hoisting him off of the ground until he was dangling, clutching at the ghost's arm hopelessly.

A patch of dark started to spread out from Brett’s crotch, and a second later, you heard the dripping onto the floorboards. Sam looked down at the same mess, then smirked up at his victim, promptly sending him flying across the hall and out the door. Brett tumbled down the steps with a flow of grunts, landing with a thud at the bottom before scrambling to his feet, looking up at you with wide frightened eyes as you watched him from the doorway.

Without another word, he ran, bolting out of sight down the driveway, and hopefully out of your life. Behind you, Sam was solid again, and his little show was over; he slipped his hand into yours, and tugged you in from the cold.

“I hope I didn’t overstep,” he said softly, waiting for you to close the door. “I thought he deserved a taste of his own medicine.”

You smiled up at him. “What if he tells someone?”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” he murmured, touching your cheek. There was hesitation in his touch, and for a moment, you thought he might finish the conversation that had been so rudely interrupted. Then he sighed, pulling his hand away. “It’s late. You should ask Bobby to do a check and make sure he’s gone.”

Disappointment rang hollow in your chest. “Right,” you mumbled, nodding lightly as he stepped back. “What - what about you?”

He smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

You were alone in the next second, but you knew he wouldn’t go far. After checking in with Bobby, who immediately decided that a shotgun would be great for further deterrent, you checked every door and window in the house and set the security system. When it was done, you lingered downstairs, wondering if you should call out to Sam, find out what he had been trying to say, even though you had an inkling of what it was.

He had feelings for you. Just like you had feelings for him. Both of you felt the connection there, ridiculous as it might have been for a dead person and a living person to even attempt -

Your thoughts stopped in their tracks.

Why couldn’t you be together? You had lived through a worldwide pandemic and enjoyed the excuse to stay inside your cozy four walls, away from the chaos and unpredictability of the world at large. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t leave yourself, and it didn’t appear you’d ever have to work another day in your life. Sam was trapped either way, bound to this house, and surely the company would only improve his metaphorical living status.

You had spent weeks enjoying his companionship already. You didn’t shy away from the possibility that you were already in love with him.

He didn’t show himself before you went to bed, and you were tired enough after Brett’s brief yet stressful visit that you dozed off quickly, wrapped in your blankets. But peaceful rest wasn’t waiting for you, only nightmare exaggerations of Brett’s return, and when you woke after only a short time, Sam was there.

Immediately, you burst into tears. He moved closer, but you curled into a tighter ball, sobbing as the grief overwhelmed you. Without waiting, he slid underneath the covers, making himself solid as he gathered you into his arms. It took a long time for you to calm down, but his comfort helped, and when you finally felt a little more coherent, you turned to face him, looking up at him.

“Nightmare?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, curling your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. “Sam -” He hummed when you paused, encouraging you to continue. “What were you going to say… before Brett showed up?” His eyes widened slightly. “You know, you were saying you never met anyone when you were alive, and then you said -”

“Right,” he chuckled nervously, “yeah, I know, I -” He stopped, searching your gaze. “When you arrived here,” he started slowly, “I thought that maybe I would have a companion again, a friend, only… the more I’m around you, the more I realize I’ve fallen in love with you.” Your heart began to pound but you could see he wasn’t done. “But I’m dead. And you’re alive. There are certain things I could… I could never give you. I can never leave the grounds of this house.”

He softened a little, sighing as he looked down, and you watched him for a second or two, wondering how to tell him that the things he could never give you weren’t things you wanted anyway. You thought he would have understood that already, with the many conversations you’d had that skirted the subject, but you couldn’t blame him for thinking you’d reject him because he was dead.

“Sam?” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face. His eyes lifted to meet yours and you smiled gently, leaning in to kiss him. He froze at first, then relaxed into it, returning your affection with fervor. “I don’t want to go anywhere,” you said as you broke away, framing his face with your hands. “I want to stay here with you.”

“You really don’t care about… you know, the things that women usually care about?” he asked hesitantly.

You laughed, leaning into him. “While other little girls dreamed of weddings, I dreamed of libraries. When my friends were all partying, I sought solitude.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I - I know we can’t grow old together. But we can figure out the big stuff as it comes, right?”

“What if I can’t -” He chewed his lip. “I’ve never - not like this -”

The mood changed. You hummed, squirming as close to him as possible. “All your senses work, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So how do you feel being this close to me?” you asked huskily. “Because you feel pretty solid right now.” Boldly, you slid a hand down, finding the front of his jeans and the bulge contained within. “You feel that?”

His response this time was strained. “Uh-huh.”

Pulling away, you dragged your vest over your head, but the moment you were bare, your nerves kicked in. You tugged the sheet up only for Sam to stop you, mouth a little open as he stared at your bare breasts. “What?” you asked shyly, a sharp contrast to how you’d felt seconds before.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. You squeaked in surprise, pressing your hands against his suddenly bare chest. The plaid shirt and t-shirt were gone, and you were certain if you lifted the covers, all his clothing down there would be gone too. “Too fast?”

You took a breath then shook your head. “No,” you replied, and crushed your lips to his again. He felt so solid against you, even if his skin felt so much cooler than yours, it only added to the heat building in your core. 

“Can I touch you?” he asked breathlessly, fingertips dancing over your bare hip. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth and you nodded, parting your thighs as his hand slipped between them, making you gasp when he rubbed you through your panties.

“Lemme take these off,” you rushed out, clumsily pushing the fabric down your thighs until you could kick them off, and Sam’s hand was instantly back between your thighs again, this time rubbing his fingers right against your bare cunt. Your head fell back, and he mouthed at your throat, slowly working one cool digit inside you as your breathing began to pick up speed. “Sam -”

He groaned before swooping in to kiss you again, quieting your whimpers while he worked you open, progressing to two fingers within seconds. You shifted onto your back when it became too much effort to hold your leg up, and he went with you, managing to not break rhythm as he kept you on edge. With a shuddering cry, you broke the kiss, sliding your fingers through his hair as he made you ride out your climax on his hand.

“Huh,” he chuckled, withdrawing as he watched you collapse, panting hard, legs quivering as you kicked the sheets off. “Guess being dead didn’t make me lose my touch.”

You giggled, rolling your head to look at him. “Do you think it works the same?” you asked, slyly snaking a hand down to where the sheet was clinging to his hip, barely hiding his modesty. He raised an eyebrow, then moaned when your fingers wrapped around him.

“Only one way to find out,” he shrugged lazily, moving to kiss you again. Forcing you to relinquish your hold, you gasped as he kneed his way between your legs, peppering kisses over your abdomen, up over your breasts until he could seize your lips, groaning into your mouth. “You gonna let me in?”

“Uh-huh,” was all you could manage, all the words you were willing to spare as he kissed you breathless, distracting you from his movement between your thighs. His cock pressed into you, and when he finally started to sink inside, the difference in body temperature became more obvious. You clutched at his shoulders, crying out as he rocked back and forth, convincing your body to accept a little more each time.

“Fuck,” he groaned when his hips came flush with yours. “You’re so warm…”

Everything was different with him. You’d had sex, and you’d definitely fucked before; being introverted didn’t mean you weren’t enthusiastic about physical intimacy. But this was so different, tender despite the strength behind his touch, reverent despite the dirty language. It was the first time you’d ever felt like you were making love with someone. You moved together, each clinging to the other so desperately, like you’d disappear if you let go - though you supposed that could technically be true for Sam. In the moment he felt so real, so tangible, that it was hard to believe he was dead at all.

Your second orgasm snuck up on you, and you cried out against his shoulder, trembling from head to toe. He slowed, kissing you softly as you rode out the aftershocks, grinding a little deeper on each stroke. “Definitely feels the same,” he rumbled with amusement. “You feel so good.”

“You too,” you gasped back, reaching down to grab his ass. “Please -”

He growled, putting a little more force behind his thrusts. You cried out over and over as he hit his mark, and finally he stuttered, grunting against your throat as he spilled into you. It felt real enough, cool instead of warm, seeping out around him as you remained connected. His lips covered yours, kissing you slowly this time, dragging out the last moments before he had to move.

Your earlier exhaustion returned. Sam pulled the sheets up over you, pulling you close as you yawned. Forcing your eyes to stay open a few seconds longer, you smiled at him dozily, reaching up to touch his face. “Are you gonna stay with me?” you asked sleepily.

He smiled, catching your hand to kiss your palm. “As long as you want me.”

The sun rose, filling the room with natural light that stirred you from your restful slumber. You opened your eyes to meet Sam’s almost instantly, and he smiled as you stretched under the sheets. “Good morning,” you whispered, seeking out his hand underneath the cotton. “Did you watch me all night?”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, leaning in to kiss you, closing the distance between you again. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.” His nose bumped against yours, and you sighed happily. “Did you sleep well?”

You smiled, nestling into him. “Better than I think I ever slept before.”

“Well, in that case,” he chuckled, “I’ll have to make sure I’m here every night.”

Pulling back, you looked up at him. “Is that a promise?”

He laughed again. “Definitely.”

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING SO OTHERS CAN ENJOY IT 😁

[insidethejob]

How are you today? Sorry if it's been a bit of a bad day, though I do hope this community can make you feel a bit better! Yo if you still take requests and are free/in the mood to write, can you consider mine? Please consider prompt 17 with Yandere!Brett x Gender!Neutral!Reader If you do go through with this then I thank you for your time.

Oh? This might be a little wonky and I apologize, I need to get back in the zone.

Prompt 17: “Please don’t scream. I don’t want anyone thinking I’ve done something terrible to you.”

You looked at the male, wide-eyed. He was rambling about something, but you were tied up with tape covering your mouth. Tears were streaming down in your face, confusion showing in your eyes.

"I didn't want to kidnap you..." He stops, messing with his hands, "It wasn't supposed to be like this," He turns towards you, before kneeling and reaching for the tape. "Please don't scream. I don't want anyone thinking I've done something terrible to you."

He rips it off and you hold back the scream as a glare of red stains your face where the tape once was.

"I hate you."

He sighs, looking away from you, "I know. But," He looks directly into your eyes, full of emotion, "You'll learn to love me."

"You're insane."

He laughs, caressing your face. "Love does that to you, doesn't it?"

"No! God, if I weren't tied up-"

"You'd kill me?" He smirks as your eyes widen, "Yeah, wouldn't it be bad if the police found out about your dead body under your house?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," You look away, "It was an accident."

"Was it?" He rubs your bare thigh, but you don't respond. "If you stay here, no one will ever find out."

"Can you at least loosen the ropes?" You ask, batting your eyes.

He laughs, shaking his head, "Yeah, no. I know everything about you and because of that, I know you're really good at getting out of ropes."

"So what, you stalked me."

"Stalk is a crazy word to use." He shakes his head, trying to defend himself, "I just... you know watched."

"Uhuh. You know, if you weren't hot you probably would of gotten hot."

"You think I'm hot?" His face errupts in a bright red.

"You're kidding me right? Fishing for compliments."

He lays his head on your lap, causing you to groan and roll your eyes.

"So what now?"

He looks up at you, "Honestly... I hadn't thought that far."

[kupwrites]

Desperation

Brett Talbot x Male!Reader

TW: Bottom Brett, Top Reader, thigh grinding, begging, unprotected sex, use of pet names, and praising

Brett had been wanting Y/N forever, or at least it felt like forever.

Brett had been wanting Y/N forever, or at least it felt like forever.

The said male was just so fucking attractive and Brett wanted nothing more than to kiss and lick all over his body. Brett wanted fuck him everywhere and any position possible.

Brett wanted this so badly he was surprised that when he finally got the chance, it was Y/N who took charge.

But Brett was desperate for Y/N’s touch that he didn’t even care.

“Come on baby boy,” Y/N with a teasing tone. “You can do better than that.”

He worked Brett opened with his fingers as Brett ground down against his thigh and fingers, whining.

“More please,” Brett begged, holding tightly onto Y/N’s biceps.

“Say it like you mean it,” Y/N said, kissing up and down Brett’s neck.

Brett moaned as Y/N gently twisted his nipple. He was naked while Y/N was still fully clothed.

“Y/N, please,” Brett voice was breathy with lust. “Please, I need more.”

“So close, but you have to be specific,” Y/N had also wanted this for a while. “What exactly do you want?”

Y/N licked the shell of Brett’s ear and then lightly nipped at his earlobe.

“Ah! Please just fuck me already,” Brett exclaimed.

Y/N quickly switched their position, Brett on his back and Y/N looming above him.

Y/N took his shirt off and threw it to the side, Brett reached up to rub his over Y/N’s torso. Y/N allowed Brett to do so as he started unbuttoning his pants, he quickly discarded those and his boxers.

Y/N leaned down and caged Brett’s head with his arms.

“Who knew Brett Talbot, famous fuck boy, could be so fucking desperate,” Y/N spoke directly into Brett’s ear. “It’s adorable.”

Y/N ground their cocks together causing Brett to moan before he could respond.

Brett tangled his hands in Y/N’s hair and tugged lightly, “Please just hurry up!”

Y/N chuckled, “Okay, baby.”

He used one hand to line himself up with Brett’s entrance as he slowly slid inside.

Both boys moaned in pleasure at the feeling.

Y/N moved slowly to make sure he didn’t hurt Brett, though it was clear that Brett was deep in pleasure.

Once Y/N bottomed out he paused his movements. Y/N gripped Brett’s hip and waited for him to adjust.

“You’re so perfect, doll,” Y/N muttered against Brett’s neck, licking at it.

Brett tugged at Y/N’s hair again, “God, just move already!”

“Sure thing,” Y/N smirked.

He, almost completely pulled out and then slammed back in, moaning.

Brett let out a shout of pleasure.

Y/N fucked Brett at a brutal pace that had him curling his toes and arching his back.

“Fuck- more, please,” Brett continually begged.

Y/N was happy to comply, absorbed in the feeling of Brett’s tight walls clenching around his cock.

It didn’t take long for Brett to feel a climax approaching.

“So close,” He whined. “Don’t stop!”

“Wouldn’t dream of, baby boy,” Y/N responded, he could also feel his climax coming near. “Holy fuck, I can’t wait to fill you up with my cum.”

Brett’s cock twitched at Y/N’s words.

A couple more thrusts, hitting Brett’s prostate dead on and he was coming, hard. He was covering their chests in white ropes.

Y/N was quick to finish moments later, shooting his load into Brett’s ass.

Brett hummed at the feeling.

“You’re so good for me,” Y/N said, softly,

Brett smiled up at Y/N, who smiled back.

“Please tell me this will happen again?” Brett asked.

Y/N laughed and pecked Brett’s lips, “Obviously.”

Y/N then collapsed on top of Brett, nosing against Brett’s neck.

“Good,” Brett said, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s shoulder.

“Maybe then you’ll get to fuck me,” Y/N added.

Brett grinned, “Oh I’d love to.”

Both boys laughed this time.

[maleposting]

trying to replicate the feeling of having brett sleeping on top of me at 3am when i cant sleep (real footage)

[prettybrownelf]

Saw that you want Brett requests! >:) A Male!Reader that's obviously flirting with Brett but he's too oblivious to notice? Go crazy, go wild. Do whatever your heart desires<3

Morning Donuts

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Pairings- Brett Hand x Male! Reader

Summary- Brett comes in with donuts, feeling accidentally get spilled

Word Count- 482

Content Warnings- None, Fluffy

You hated saying Brett was dumb, because he's not.

He's incredibly smart when he wants to be! Always there for his friends, being able to help people with little to no information about what they're going through. 

But somehow, no matter how many clues you give, he doesn't get the clue that you have a crush on him. 

You've honestly started to lose hope in ever having something with him. 

“Morning (Y/n)!” His happy voice rings in your ears as you look up from your work. “Morning.” You smile, watching him plop down in the seat next to you, opening up a pink box. “I also got donuts!” You have to hold back your laughter as you pick up the adorable cat shaped donuts. “Thanks Brett.” He smiles happily as you take a bite of the donut. 

Bretts hand is suddenly grabbing your chin so you can look at him. That goofy smile he always has lights up his face as he looks down at you. “You got chocolate on your face.” He laughs. Before your hand can move Brett is already taking care of it, running his thumb over the side of your mouth. 

Heat travels up your face and neck as you watch Brett mindlessly wiping his finger with a napkin as he turns back to you. “What's wrong?” He asks. Your mind can't focus on anything as you try to turn back to your work. “Nothings wrong.” Your murmur, desperately trying to get your mind back to normal. “You don't seem fine.” Brett rubs his hands together nervously as he stares at you. “I didn't make you uncomfortable or anything right.” “No Brett, you didn't.” Brett stands up, looking over your shoulder at your writing as he tries to keep himself contained. “Ok, i just wanted to make sure cause i know i've been kinda flirty with you and i didnt know if i was misreading signals-.” Brett continues to ramble as you try to take in what he said. “Brett stop.” Brett immediately shuts up and looks down at you. 

“Brett, did you just say you're flirting with me?” Brett nods as he waits for you to talk. “So this whole time I was just confusing your flirting with your normal nice personality.” Brett seems taken aback. “You thought I was just being nice?” You nod as small bit as you and Brett stare at each other. “So we’ve just been flirting with each other the whole time.” You nod again as you both sit in silence. 

“Does this mean it's ok for me to ask you out?” He asks. You chuckle with a nod as Brett quickly gets back into the seat beside you, grabbing your hands in his own as he takes a deep breath. “(Y/n), will you go on a date with me!” “Yes Brett, I will go on a date with you.”

[lindisworld]

Close || Matt Murdock x Reader

summary: Soulmate Au! In which [Name] has Daredevil as a soulmate and Matt unwillingly wants [Name] in his life. However Fate does its job and always brings them together.

Chapter six.

After Brett took care of Frank, who was passed out in the cemetery, and briefly put Matt in handcuffs. Matt’s only priority was getting to [Name]. It had taken awhile for Brett to let Matt go, almost convinced he was helping the Punisher.

Matt soon rushed towards the direction of [Name]’s coffee shop faster than he had ever before, his thoughts scrambled, he couldn’t focus on anything or anyone no matter how hard he tried. He had let his emotions overtake him causing his senses to become overstimulating. The whole city on blast, why is Hell’s kitchen bustling this time of night?

Time felt like an eternity, each second stretching out into an infinity of its own. Everything around him seemed to move in slow motion, as if the world was operating on a different frequency than he was. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath ragged and labored as he pushed his way through the crowded street. In the moment, nothing mattered, not even when his legs were screaming at him to stop and rest. He just needed to be there with her. He needs her to be safe.

Matt didn’t understand the depth of the soul tie, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Was life this cruel to give him a soulmate after all he’s been through? Matt’s been over exerting himself for the past few days in hopes he wouldn’t have to think about it.

What felt like forever ago, he reached the coffee shop. He tilted his head slightly, attempting to focus on anything that might be out of the ordinary. He heard a couple of voices that led him to the back of the building, Matt distinguished two heartbeats but none that belonged to [Name].

“The girl isn’t here. She might’ve went home.”

“Notify Finn. Let him know we’re on the way to her apartment.”

“We’re gonna have fun with her.”

Before the guy could call and do anything further, Matt came from behind. “You aren’t going anywhere near her,” he spoke in that deep raspy voice. His hand clenching around his baton, throwing it at the guy’s temple that knocked him out instantly.

“The devil protecting a dumb girl. Stupid choices lead to bad consequences.” The guy snapped at him, drawing out his gun, aiming the weapon at Matt. “I suggest you leave me alone before you die right here.”

Matt shook his head in a dismissive manner and let out a laugh, “Oh. I’m not dying today, but I know you are.” He responded, clarity in his voice that hinted at more than just confidence. Matt knew that second when the man pulled the trigger, immediately getting into a close range, disarming the man within seconds. Matt's movements were a dance of controlled grace, each action calculated yet fluid.

“Son of a bitch.” The man spat out, “i’m gonna kill you, asshole!” He threatened, he leaned forward and aims a punch towards Matt’s face, but Matt’s quick reflexes allowed him to block the shot. Matt returned the attack and punched the male on the cheek.

The air crackled with tension between them, one man wanted to shed blood but the other wanted to get to his soulmate. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the low hum of distant traffic. Matt stood his ground, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared down his assailant.

“C’mon man, I’m just trying to get to my lady. I wanna have fun with [Name].” The man casually spoke, a shit eating grin appearing on his face. Only if Matt was able to see, he might’ve broken his moral code of the no deaths while Daredevil. Yet the tone of the guy was enough to send Matt over the top.

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to play with the Devil.” Matt said before closing the distance, his hands that turned to fists colliding with the guy’s face. His knuckles turning white with the force of his emotions. As the fight unfolded, it was evident that Matt's actions were not merely fueled by anger, but also by a sense of protective instinct, a primal urge to shield against the threats about [Name].

—————

Yet meanwhile, [Name] laid uncomfortably in her own bed, her blanket wrapped around her body like a cocoon. Her blanket covering her entire face except for her nose so she can breathe. [Name] felt the stress of knowing who’s behind all the murders that’s been happening throughout Hell’s Kitchen, it definitely made her an accomplice, even if she didn’t partake in it, she still knows about. Now if anyone were to find out, she’d be in deep shit. A part of her denied it because why would a random man who’s named Frank be the Punisher?

She believed they were friends so why would a friend of hers be a murderer? Was she out of her mind for not being scared of him? She honestly thought she should seek some help because a normal person wouldn’t be reacting how she did when Frank admitted it. A rational human would have immediately went to the police and reported it.

[Name] tosses and turns around the bed, her mind clouded. It’s like she couldn’t find a proper position to fall asleep in. Maybe it’s her guilty conscience telling her to do something about the matter. She groaned loudly in frustration, she should’ve banned Frank when he first didn’t pay a coffee, although she did tell him it was on the house. Since then, she refused any money from him, so it definitely was her fault. It’s not like she knew.

All these scenarios going through her head, but there’s no way she can go back in time to fix it. However, if she became friends with the Avengers or more specifically, Tony Stark. She might have a chance to create a time traveling machine, but hey, that’s a long shot. There’s no hurting anyone if she sent a quick dm to Tony on Instagram about her idea.

“No, I can’t do that. Things happen for a reason.” [Name] spoke to no one in particular.

[Name] unraveled herself from her blanket, sitting up with a scowl on her face. She rubs her face harshly, a tired yawn escaping her. She swings her legs to the edge of the bed and began walking towards her kitchen. She rummages through her cabinet and grabs any bowl that was there, reaching over the table to pick up the cereal box.

After setting her bowl of cereal onto the table, she heard a knock from her front door. It was 2 am, who would be knocking this time of night?

[Name] tiptoed where the knives were placed on counter, she reached out and selected the sharpest blade, feeling its chilling edge against her trembling fingers. A sense of dread washed over her as the knocking at the door grew more forceful, sending shivers down her spine.

As she approaches the door closer, she could hear their heavy breath as they muttered something that sounded like her name. [Name] knew deep down that she was incapable of inflicting harm upon another, let alone taking a life. This was her karma for not going to the police about Frank, she thought. Now she got some random person knocking on her door.

“[Name], I know you’re in there.” Wait, the voice sounded a bit too familiar.

“Matt?” [Name]’s voice wavered out of fear.

“No, it’s Daredevil. I need you to open the door. It’s urgent.”

[Name] quickly scurried to the door, knife still in her hand. Even if she knew it was him, she couldn’t take the chance of letting her guard down. She unlocks the doorknob, opening up the door slightly ajar so she could get a clear view of Daredevil.

“I could’ve swore you sounded like an acquaintance of mine,” [Name] laughs nervously, allowing Daredevil to walk in. The voice sounded way too close like Matt’s. However, the idea quickly went down the drain since she’s spoken to Matt quite a few times and her tired mind couldn’t recall his voice at the current moment.

“I can tell you, I’m the one and only, sweetheart.” The stupid smirk of his appeared on his face as he walked through the door as he stood close to [Name]. “There’s no one like me.” Matt cockily added.

“Don’t you think it’s too late to be visiting and for you to be acting like that?”

Matt simply shrugged, his smirk still plastered on his face. “You’re not going to kill me, right?” He asked, his finger pointing to the direction of the knife in her hand.

[Name] closed the door, making sure to securely lock it. She knew it probably seemed she was going to murder the Daredevil, but considering it was 2 am, she rather lock the door than keep it unlocked. Even though she did have Daredevil in her house and needed any protection, she’d just hate if something were to happen in her apartment. [Name] pays a good amount of money to live here and God forbid, a burglary or other serious crime happens in her own home.

“Can’t be too sure, you know?” You replied as you walked over to the kitchen where you left your now soggy cereal on the table. “Considering you made me leave my cereal and it’s soggy now, I might have to commit a crime.” [Name] sighs and throws away her bowl, already lost her appetite from the sudden scare.

“You’d attempt to kill the vigilante that protects Hell’s Kitchen over a bowl of cereal?”

In a quick second his usual smirk went into a serious straight line. [Name] spoke too quick about her apartment as Matt swiftly grabs her out the way. A bullet going through the window that was in direct sight of her from the outside was shattered within seconds.

A/n: Was not proofread, i’ve been slacking on writing 💔 this goes out to @bullseye-devil

[theofficialfanfictioncorner]

Misc.

Teen Wolf

Suprise - Peter Hale

"can you feel what you're doing to me" - Stiles Stilinski

How do you want me call you?! Daddy?! - stiles stilinski

Untitled 1 - brett talbot

New endings - brett talbot

Sleeping with the enemy - brett talbot

untitled 2 - theo raeken

untitled 3 - theo raeken

-

KILL4ME - Carrington

Every second Counts - Russel Shaw

How Lucky Am I? - Zack justice

telling the world - zack justice

Wait - Nick Sturniolo x MALE!reader

Bad Day - Beau Arlin

Tattooed love - Jake Webber

no mix up - jake webber

Help - Carl Gallagher

-

Any way you want me - Boaz Priestly

the one with the mohawk - boaz priestly

pondering the fate while ignoring the obvious - boaz priestly

-

a place to call home - Jensen Ackles

Alpha X - Jensen Ackles

The way my hand looks on your face - Jensen Ackles

All Night Long - Jensen Ackles

-

Doll - T.Riddle

sugar - T.riddle

you don't have to do this - T.Riddle

-

Don't Bet On It - Castiel

Forest Green Eyes - Castiel

[bigfatbimbo]

Ok, but we neeeed to see Brett Hand first time (also first time in his life) letting it slip and calling his gf "mommy".

He only felt safe and completely happy with her. In college he never felt pleasure because he had to be the dom in order to satisfy the girls and he was a people pleaser, you know. He just didn't dare to call her that to not make it weird and it just slips when he is melting, completely being a puddle in her hands. It surprises both of them.

There would be a moment where he froze after saying it and she would be like: "wh- what did you call me ? 😮😳" ( In a shocked gentle manner, not a mean one because she understands that he struggled growing up with his parents affection and she doesn't want to hurt him emotionally).

Oof I crave to see this so bad!!!

Brett Hand/Reader 18+

Awe, poor baby would be so embarrassed at first.

Imagine making him feel so good, giving him all your attention. You’ve already made him cum multiple times, blow jobs, hand jobs, etc. And he gets too comfortable, so he just slips out a “Mommy, please—“

He’d never been taken care of like this! When it came to sex he always just did what his partner wanted, but now you’re making him feel so good, and he barely has to lift a finger? He let his guard down!

Once he realized what he said, his hand would come up to his mouth and he’d wait for your reaction.

“what did you call me?” You ask, eyes wide.

“Uh— nothing. Unless your into it then I guess I did say something, but if you didn’t hear anything at all then I didn’t really say anything,” he squirms in place, “Haha, please still like me..—“

“No, Brett—“ You run your hand comfortingly up and down his arm, “I’m into it. Actually, say it again.”

“Uh..” He blushed red. If you like it, then what’s the harm? He doesn’t have to feel weird about it. “Y-yes, mommy.”

You smile, before placing your hand on his shaft once again, “Oh, good boy.”