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apollyonsdarksecrets · 2 years ago

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Knight in Cowboy boots

Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Summary: emotions and buried feelings are reviled when Joel protects you from a drunk ex boyfriend

Warnings: SMUT (Minors DNI 18+ ONLY), Friends to lovers, pre-outbreak, alcohol, fighting, swearing, blood, fingering, p in v (unprotected), cream pie, pet names, maybe one Y/n I tried not to use any because I know some people don’t like it.

Word count: It’s long boo, lmao.

A/N: Y’all tumblr has some kind of hold on me because I read one Pedro Pascal fic and now I want him to pin me to the bed and have me call him daddy 😭 #hornyonmain if you like this check out my other stories for more spicy fun 🥰

Joel Miller Master List

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I don’t know Sally, I just… how did I not see it? Everything was great, at least I truly thought it was…” You sigh, slumping back further into your friends couch, swirling the wine in your glass.

“I knew there was something wrong with him! He always seemed so sleazy.” Sally scoffs, crossing a long leg over the other, shaking her dirty blond hair.

“Your husband is the one that set me up with Michael.” You retort, propping your chin on your hand with a sigh, you stare out the window, the party in the house was at its peak, people from around the neighborhood mingling, laughing, and sharing a good time as you and your life long best friend discuss your most recent disaster at dating.

“I never said he was a smart man.” You snort, shaking your head when movement outside catches your attention. Your eyes widen slightly, spine straightening as you catch sight of your older neighbor walking towards the house. His hands are shoved into his pockets, head tilted down slightly as he walks. He only peaks up when he reaches the walk way, face illuminated in the moonlight.

Joel Miller. The man you’ve not so secretly pinned for since moving to this neighborhood two years ago.

Your head whips around to Sally, “You didn’t tell me Joel was coming!” You gape at your friend who just shrugs a thin shoulder, taking a sip of her drink with a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips.

“I didn’t?”

Of course Joel would be invited, he’s known Sally and Tim since they moved here and had become fast friends with the couple. You begin to fidget with your outfit, regretting wearing something so basic as you tug your top down slightly, displaying more of your assets. Sally snorts beside you. “To much?”

Before she can answer her husbands loud laugh fills the air followed by the clinking of beer bottles and other guests raised voices in greetings. You turn just as the two men walk through the living room’s archway and smile brightly when Joel’s chocolate eyes land on yours. “Hey there.”

“Hey there yourself, haven’t seen you around in a hot minute darlin’.” His draw makes something inside you tick, cheeks tinting pink as the two men sit in the arm chairs opposite of you and Sally.

“You know me, hard work no play.” Joel laughs at that, tilting his beer to his lips and you force your gaze to your glass, trying and failing to not look like you were checking him out as he stretches his long denim clad legs out in front of him.

“How’s Sarah?” Sally asks, giving you time to collect yourself, the sight of the man almost always turning you into a fumbling school girl.

“She’s good, over at a friends house right now.”

“Oh so it’s just you tonight?”

“Just me.” Joel doesn’t look to Sally when he answers, eyes trained on your flushed face drinking you in.

You all spend the next hour talking about work, life, family, all the minor things in between. It’s great, you’ve missed your friends, work prioritizing most of your free time more often than not, that you never have time for simple things like this.

“I��m going to pour myself another glass, does anyone need anything?” You ask as you stand, a simultaneous no resonates from the group, Joel smiling at you with a tilt to his head that makes your knees weak.

You find the kitchen deserted, everyone either out back enjoying the table top fire or have already left for the evening. You’re humming a tune to yourself, picking through the numerous bottles for something that looks good when an arm snakes around your waist.

Nearly jumping out of your skin you push the offending appendage away and spin around, coming face to face with your now ex-boyfriend Michael.

He definitely wasn’t invited.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hiss, stepping away only to collide with the counter top.

Michael laughs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His normally styled blond hair is tussled, blue eyes glazed over as he leers down at you. “Um, partying?” HIs words are slurred and he stinks of alcohol, your nose scrunching at the pungent smell.

“This isn’t that kind of party, and I don’t believe anyone invited you.” You glare up at him, nearly a foot of distance makes him taller and easier for him to crowed into your space when he takes a wobbly step closer.

“A party is always an invite. You know that sugartits.” The nickname makes you cringe, the feeling of being trapped between a drunk and a hard spot making you antsy. You and Michael dated for just under a year, everything was fine, fun, romantic even until his secret habit of getting too drunk and sticking his dick into anything with a nice set of tits came to light.

“You’re drunk, how the hell did you even get here? No no i don’t want to know, just get away from me and go home.” You move to push past him, anger and resentment bubbling in your guts, but the man in front of you has another idea.

“Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that?” Michael grabs your wrist, twisting until you yelp in pain. “You’d think after being with me for so long, you’d learn a little bit of respect, woman.” He shoves you into the counter, your side hitting the granite so hard you lose your breath. “Do I need to teach you a lesson?”

Fear takes root deep in your chest, freezing you to the spot as Michael's hand raises above his head, ready to strike you when a booming voice fills your ears, stopping him in his tracks.

"HEY!"

Michael's head whirls around, his grip lessoning, to find Joel and Tim standing in the doorway, Sally peeking from behind their shoulders.

“Back off man, we are having a private conversation.” Michael spits, teetering on his feet. Everything is tense and silent for a second, Joel’s eyes lock with yours, fear so clearly written across your face, and that’s all he needs.

The older man storms forward, arm back, and swings for Michael’s face, a direct hit that sends your ex stumbling backwards, freeing you as he covers his bleeding nose. You run to Sally’s open arms, and Joel doesn’t stop swinging, barely giving Michale time to react before he’s on the floor.

You’re crying, yelling for Joel to stop as Tim and another man rush forward, struggling to separate the two as a crowd forms at the patio door. By the time Joel is hauled away, the man lays limp on the ground, groaning unintelligibly. Joel's face is red, chest heaving, staring at Michael below him, shaking off the two men holding him.

“I see you around her again and it will be the last fucking thing you do.” Joel’s voice is haunting, sending shivers down your spine.

You push away from Sally, grabbing onto Joel's shirt with shaky fingers. He turns to you, the look of hatred melting into concern. "Are you okay?"

"Am- Am I okay?" You ask incredulously, eyebrows pinched.

“I think y’all should go, I’ll get him out of here just…” Tim is rightfully upset, hands in his hair as he stares down at his friend, blood splattered across the white tile of the kitchen, and the rest of the guests are visibly tense.

“I’m sorry Tim… it had to be done.”

Tim sighs, nodding but says nothing more. Joel nods back, flexing his hand by his side, before taking your arm turning you towards the door.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Is… Is your hand okay?” It’s the third time you’ve asked since getting to your house, this time peeking around the bathroom door with a cup of coffee for him. Joel insisted on cleaning himself up instead of your request to take him to the ER, when you saw how bloody and bruised his knuckles were.

“I’m sure darlin’. Don’t fret over me.” He holds up his hand, still bruising but no longer bleeding, wagging his fingers, showing you he’s alright, before wrapping some gauze and tape around it. You lean into the door frame, staring at the steam drifting up in front of you.

“I… I can’t thank you enough for what you did, Joel… I don’t know how I can repay you.” You feel meek and miserable for what happened, that anyone would get into a fight over you. You keep thinking about how you should of prevented it, instead of letting it go that far. “I’m so sorry it got to that point, I should have done something.”

Joel leans in beside you, brushing his fingers against your shoulder, gaining your attention. You glance up, caught off guard by how close he suddenly is, eyes warm and inviting like the heat radiating off of his body, this close you can see the gray streaks starting to pepper his hair and the lines of crow's feet by his eyes. “Don’t talk like you caused any of this. I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe.”

Your heart flutters, a small smile twitching your lips as you dip your head again. “What a knight in shinning cowboy boots you are.” Teasingly, you poke his chest, unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze. Joel just smiles, taking the cup from your hands and turning to set it on the bathroom counter.

“I thought knights usually get a kiss for saving the damsel in distress.” His hand cups your cheek fully, tilting your head back up until you're forced to meet his eyes, his words sinking into your body, popping off your nerves like fire, setting you ablaze.

“That only happens in fairytales.” You breathe, relaxing into the stroke of his thumb along the apple of your cheek, watching his eyes dance back and forth between your own. Joel leans farther in, noses a hair width apart.

"How’s this for a fairytale?" His whispers all since of thought lost as he press forward, brushing your lips against his in the most tentative kiss that you barely registers it. You smile though inviting and wanting, and his hand slips to the back of your head drawing you deep.

Your eyelids droop, hands coming to rest on his chest, leaning in closer as heat coils low in your stomach, arousal swimming through your blood making you groggy and tipsy. His lips mold to your own perfectly, maybe a little chapped, the stubble of his beard bristling at your skin causing you to whimper. Joel pulls you further into the bathroom, leaning back into the counter bodies flushed as your hands slip to his neck, holding yourself to him.

In this moment it’s just you and him, the party is forgotten, the fight, the fear, the fucking blister on your ankle from walking two blocks in heels, is all forgotten. Joel doesn’t even care when he grips your waist with his injured hand, the gauze pulling tight across the cuts, scratching his palm, irritating and relentless but far out of his mind.

The kiss slowly turns more desperate, your fingers tangling into the hairs at the back of his head, his hips pressing against your own, and when he pulls away for air you’re kissing his jaw, his cheek, his neck, having waited two years you weren’t passing up the opportunity now.

Joel groans softly, eyes pinched, need shooting through his body with every open mouth kiss you place. He wraps his fingers in your hair, tugging your head back gently earning a whimper of disappointment. You look up at him, eyes glazed over, arousal humming through your body so fiercely you think you might cry.

“Let me take you to bed, I ain’t waited this long to fuck you in a bathroom.” Your breath catches on a moan, a glimmer of defiance shooting through you as you eye him up and down. You can never make it easy for yourself.

“The bathroom is where most house hold accident happen.” You snip back, beaming as he rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth lifting in a suppressed smile.

“Why did I punch a guy for you again?” Your bark of laughter sends him over and he’s walking you out of the bathroom into the hall. “Bedroom.” You point over his shoulder and he’s lifting you off of your feet, wrapping your legs around his middle.

“B-because you were protecting my dignity?” You giggle, grabbing his face and peppering kisses across his lips and cheeks. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Joel smile this much, your heart feeling like it might burst just from the sight.

“Dignity… right.” He stops at the foot of your bed with a cheeky look that makes you raise an eyebrow.

“What are you thinking?”

His response is hoisting you higher before dropping you, unceremoniously onto the bed with a loud screech. “Joel!” You’re laughing, trying to scold him and failing miserably.

Joel climbs onto the bed above you, fitting himself between your legs and caging you, forearms resting on the mattress by your head. Your laughter sticks in your throat, heart rate picking up as the reality of situation settles over the two of you. “I can always take you to dinner first.” He jokes, hoping secretly that isn’t what you’d want.

“If you make me wait one more day Joel Miller I swear I will have a conniption.” You mock threaten wagging a finger in his face. He smiles, taking your hand and kissing your wrist gently.

“I’ll give you what you want baby.” His teeth nip your skin, staling your breath making your thighs squeeze his. “Yeah, I’ll give you what you want.” He breaths against your skin, goosebumps lifting the hairs on your arms.

You whimper slightly, breathy and thin, hooded eyes watching as he kisses up your arm and to your neck, forcing your head back so he has more room. He bites gently at your sweet spot, gauging how you react, which movement, kiss, or bite draws the most noise from your lips.

“Joel… mmmm…” Your hands slip under his shirt nails leaving a trail of red up his back that has his hips bucking slightly, groaning into your ear.

“Gonna be the death of me pretty girl, ya know that?” He asks, voice laced with arousal, leaning back to look at you under thick lashes as he bucks his hips against yours.

All you can do it whimper in response, bringing your lips to his and kissing him messily, all teeth, and spit like you both are horny teenagers all over again. Joel’s tongue slips into your mouth, taking dominance over your own and it makes you let out a noise that will be seared into Joel’s brain for the rest of his life.

He breaks away suddenly, ripping his shirt over his head and you’re following suit, shimming out of the tight material letting it fall to the floor as your hands find the expanse of his chest. He has defined muscles, years of manual labor under his skin that makes your mouth water, his body just a little softer with age but an underlying strength you’ve already witnessed twice tonight. The man is gorgeous.

“Need you Joel… please I need you.” You beg, trailing your hands down to his jeans tugging at the rough material, earning a chuckle.

“We’ve got all night, darlin. No need to rush.” He scolds mockingly, his own fingers working at the button of your skirt, yanking it over your ass and down your legs. He stops to take you in, hands pressing your hips down, thumbs brushing over the elastic of your simple black cotton panties. “Fuck… you’re beautiful.”

And you’re spinning in drunken bliss from those two words, Joel Miller thinks you are beautiful.

“Up.” He commands and who are you to say no? Your panties join the pile, bra following shortly after, until you are laid out, bare and vulnerable before him.

And Joel takes his time, thorough with his exploration, caressing your body with burning hands. His palms cup your breasts, tweaking your nipple gently, watching your reaction for what feels the best before moving on. Hands smooth down the valley of your soft stomach, kneading your flesh, making you shiver and squirm.

“Don’t go running away from me now.” He whispers, cupping your ass and dragging you closer, legs spread wide over his hips. You keen, the apex of your desire pulsing from being manhandled to where he wants you, and Joel notices with a dark smirk.

His hands slip down the inside of your thighs and you hold your breath, desperate to feel him touch you where you want him the most. And when he does, callused thumb swiping through your soaked lips, your back bows, eyes closing as a near pornographic moan flys from your mouth.

“J-Joel…” you gasp, his thumb circling your clit before dipping back down pressing into your opening. “Ah… please… please…” Bucking your hips you search for more friction, whining into the air head pressing into the mattress.

“Such manners.” You whimper louder as the muscles in your stomach tighten, catching your lip between your teeth. “Does that mean you’re gonna be a good girl for me? Do as I say?”

“Yes… yes, I’ll be good, Joel.” You whine, warm embarrassment filling your belly, hands curling into the blankets below you. Joel smiles watching your hips twitch as he swipes his thumb back up circling your clit again before sinking a thick finger into your heat, your slick walls clamping around him. The moan you let out goes straight to his cock, making it twitch and push against the confines of his jeans.

“Yeah… I know you will be.” He whispers, adding another finger, pumping into you slowly, curling his fingers searching for that mark that will have you melting underneath him. “So tight baby, have to stretch you out if you wanna take my cock.” He presses his hand down on your stomach, trapping you as his thumb rubs circles into your clit, his fingers working faster and you mewl and cry his name, punctuated with a few ‘yess’ and ‘please’

Joel hits a spot deep inside your gummy walls that’s leaving you breathless, pussy starting to spasm as he draws you towards your orgasm faster than you’ve ever experienced before. He keeps that same pace, flexing his fingers, hurtling you towards the peak of your orgasm.

“Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” You beg, eyes shut tight, knuckles white, body flushing with white heat, making your jaw go slack, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you teeter on the edge.

He leans over you, warm breath against your lips, thumb working your clit harder. “Cum for me darlin, soak my fingers. Take what you want.”

And your body obeys, the band snapping in your stomach making you cry his name. He keeps his steady pace, marveling at the pink straining your checks and chest, the clench of your cunt around his fingers, and the way you say his name like a prayer. Joel is completely wrapped.

“Good girl, that’s right baby.” He whispers, coaxing you through your orgasm only relenting when you whimper wiggling your hips to try and get away. He brings his fingers to his lips, sucking your release from his skin with a groan. “You taste so much better than I ever imagined.”

You’re only able to whine a soft response, languid and docile below him. It’s only when you hear his zipper do you open your eyes. “There she is.” He’s kicking off his pants and boxers, your eyes drop to his cock stiff and angry red, your mouth flooding with spit, lifting your head to take in the view before you. He’s big, big and thick with a bed of black hair at the base, a bead of precum already leaking out of his tip and you’re stomach tightens in delight.

“You’re handsome.” Your voice is hoarse laced with ecstasy and foreign to your own ears.

His eyes widen slightly before he smiles, tan skin blushing. You reach for him then, hands slipping behind his neck and dragging him down into a deep kiss, stealing his breath and groaning at the taste of him and yourself mixed together.

Joel’s arm slips under your shoulders, his bandages hand cradling the back your head as his hips rut into your own. You gasp against his lips, the tip of his cock nudging your sensitive clit, your warm release coating him making him groan. “D’ya… do I need to grab somethin’?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I-if you wanna, I’m … I’m on the pill though and I’m clean.”

“Fucking Christ.”

Joel angles his hips, the head of his cock slipping to your entrance and nudging forward. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his hips, nails digging into his shoulders as he pushes forward, sinking into you with one slow thrust that has you breathless and reeling at the feeling of being so stretched, so fucking full.

“O-oh God Joel.” You breath, clinging to him. Joel groans, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the friction and pull overwhelming and yet not enough. “Please… Please Joel.” You’re begging, you want to wake up tomorrow and know exactly who made you feel so good with each step and wince.

Joel just groans, picking up on the rut of your hips and presses down closer, his weight welcoming and restricting all at one. “Hold on to me.” With that he sets a deep, hard rhythm, the head of his cock bruising your cervix with the snap of his hips against your thighs. Your bed creaking with the force he uses to drive himself into you with, your name spilling from his lips.

“Fuck… So good baby, feel so good around my cock.” Joel moans, burying his face in the junction of your neck. He bites at your shoulder, marking the skin making you whine into the air, your breath being punched from your lungs. You can already feel your next orgasm building up inside you, muscles clamping down on his cock making him groan and stutter in his pace.

“So-so good, d-don’t want you to stop.” You’ve been broken down to a pleading mess, your slick coating not only his cock but dripping down onto his balls, and pooling on to the sheets below you. Your nails are biting his skin, leaving crescent idents on his neck and shoulders that he will proudly wear when they bruise over. “M… I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you pretty girl.” He grunts into your ear, his hands moving down between your bodies to find your clit, pressing tight circles into the bundle of nerves that has you withering below him, heels digging into his ass. Your lips are in that perfect O shape, eyebrows pinched and breathy moans filling your room. Joel sits back, slipping his arm to your lower back and holding you tight as he pounds into you, your hands gripping his arms for any form of leverage.

You scream his name, the sound bouncing off the walls as your orgasm rips through you, seizing ahold of your muscles and washing over your brain making you go blank and stiff in Joel’s hold. your pussy squeezing and milking his cock just right pulling his own orgasm from him with a low growl. He stills, hips twitching as he spills inside you, milky release filling you, warming you and spilling around his cock mixing with your own release.

“Fuck… shit…” Joel’s panting, eyes closed and head tilted back. “Oh baby… you’re gonna fuckin kill me.”

You pant out a small giggle, coming down from your high, thighs still twitching lightly as your brain slowly comes back to you. Joel pulls out gently, a small his through his teeth as he falls onto the bed beside you trying to catch his breath. Cracking open your eyes you stair at your ceiling for a moment, you reach across your sheets, fingers brushing against his.

Joel laces his fingers through yours, bringing the back of your hand to his lips, kissing gently. “That… that was…”

“Amazing.” You chuckle, curling into his side content and tired, body relaxing into his as sleep clouds your mind. Joel hums in agreement, the steadiness of your breathing lulling him to into his own dreamless sleep.

The end

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader

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gender-fluidbees · 5 months ago

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who wants to read the first chapter of my byler fake dating wip to decide if I should keep writing it?

The Byers-Hopper living room had been temporarily turned into a large cave of sleeping bags and blankets. They had managed to get away with the excuse of Max and El coincidentally having a sleepover at the same time the boys did. Not at all a mixed event. Dustin had been trying to throw popcorn into Max’s mouth while Lucas bugged Will with the same question he had been asking since he came out to them.

“When are you gonna get a boyfriend?” Lucas whined.

Will rolled his eyes and set his soda down on the floor next to him.

“As soon as I find a gay boy in Hawkins that is out and wants to date me,” he said with a dry tone that implied the odds of that were very slim, at which Dustin scoffed as if personally offended without looking away from his mission.

“Will, if I liked boys, I would be all over you,” he insisted.

They all laughed as Will pulled a disgusted face, though he appreciated the gesture.

“Thanks, man, but I’m good.”

“You must like someone,” said Lucas with a raised eyebrow.

Will’s eyes darted to Mike, lightning quick so no one would catch it, but he met his gaze before looking away and clearing his throat.

“Leave him alone, guys,” Mike said, annoyed. Max’s eyebrows appeared to launch off her forehead but she said nothing. Of course Mike would be the one to help him, to protect him. He always was, wasn’t he?

There was a moment of silence before El stood up and stretched.

“I am getting more pizza,” she announced and Dustin went to join her.

They managed to make it another two hours before the topic came up again. This time, surprisingly, it was El who said something. Everyone else was getting ready for bed and she sat next to him on the floor.

“Do you not like anyone?” she asked earnestly. Will sighed.

“It’s complicated.”

She paused before saying, “I hope it stops being complicated. I hope you get him.”

Will smiled and hugged his sister as everyone walked back into the room.

“What are we talking about?” asked Dustin.

“Boys,” El told him.

“Yes! Get my boy some di-“

“MAX!” Will interrupted before she could finish her sentence. His face flushed a dark red and he shook his head in disbelief. This feeling only increased when he saw Mike trying to cover up a laugh with a cough.

“Something funny, Michael?” he asked.

“Nope,” he said, finally laughing out loud.

That laugh. Will had heard it all his life and yet he never tired of it. The way his nose scrunched and his cheeks dusted with pink. It was Will’s favorite way to draw him.

They had all settled in to watch a movie, and the subject was not brought up, but Will’s mind wouldn’t let the topic go.

When would he get a boyfriend, if ever? Why was he stuck on Mike after all these years? Why couldn’t he just move on?

“Hey,” Mike said in his ear from beside him on the floor, “You ok?”

Will swallowed. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Mike’s breath had been hot on his cheek and they were pressed up so close against the couch. Will wiped his sweaty hands and excused himself to go to the bathroom. He just needed a moment to breathe.

When he reached the bathroom and closed the door, he finally felt his limbs relax. It had only been about a minute and a half before there was a knock at the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” Will called.

“Will, it’s Mike, I just came to check on you.”

He opened the door to let Mike in and closed it once more. The two boys sat on the cold tile, knees touching ever so slightly.

“What’s going on?” he asked softly and Will sighed deeply.

“It’s stupid, I’m just a bit tired of all the relationship questions.”

Mike nodded sagely and his brows furrowed. Will knew that face. It was the same face Mike made when he had an idea for a campaign. That was a dangerous face.

“Miiiike. What are you planning?” he pouted, shoving the boy.

“Shh, let me think,” he said, putting his finger to Will’s lips for a second. He went cross eyed to look at the hand on his mouth and his heart picked up about ten paces. Mike removed his hand and stood up, beginning to pace the small bathroom and Will stood soon after in confusion.

“Okay, so the party won’t stop bothering you about dating someone, yes?”

“Yes?” Will said slowly.

“And your family is worried you're lonely, yes?”

“Hey! I-”

“Shut up and let me finish. I want to move out of my dad’s house but he won’t let me…” Mike trailed off as if Will could finish the thought for him.

“Mike, literally what do those things have to do with each other?”

He looked at Will like it was obvious and held his hands out in a general ‘duh’ gesture.

“You date me!”

Will caught a glimpse of the face he made in the bathroom mirror, and no words could describe what that emotion was. Will calls it, ‘my-best-friend-who-is-a-boy-and-very-straight-who-I-am-in-love-with-says-I-should-date-him.’

It took a moment for Will to get the word out of his mouth, as it had gotten very dry. “What?”

“You date me! Pretend, of course-”

“Of course.”

“-so everyone leaves you alone and my dad kicks me out because he’s a piece of shit. Everybody wins!”

After a moment, he deduced that Mike was not joking, and the panic receptors in his brain which never did their job correctly made him laugh. Loudly.

“What are you smoking, Mike?”

“What?” Mike asked, offended. He seemed to think it was a great plan. Will caught his breath and leaned against the wall.

“Mike, no one’s gonna buy that. Also, it is not worth losing your family over a joke. What if he- what if he hurt you?”

As Will tried to get Mike to see reason, some part of him wanted to say yes. Some awful, selfish, thirteen year old part of him wanted Mike in whatever way he could get him even if it was fake.

Mike seemed to think Will’s words over, and he had a moment of hope that the boy would change his mind.

“You think he would hurt me?” Mike asked, as if this had never occurred to him.

“Mike, I’m not saying your dad’s a bad person, but-”

“He’s the scum of the earth, but continue.”

“People do crazy things when they think someone they love might be g- might be like me.”

Mike’s face twisted in a way that churned Will’s stomach. No, don’t be sad, don’t look like a kicked puppy.

“Well then we gotta do it.”

“What?!?” Will exclaimed, more confused than ever. He thought he had changed his mind, not egged him on.

“Think about it. If Hawkins has a publicly gay couple, it could make it easier for other people.”

“You want it to be public?” Will screeched. Okay, Mike had officially lost his mind, because if he thought the bullying was bad already, just wait until he announced he was a boykisser.

Mike grinned. “Are you agreeing?”

“No! I’m the opposite of agreeing! I’m disagreeing! I am the antithesis to whatever point it is that you’re trying to make!”

Mike just laughed. “The point is it’s a win-win situation. We say we’re dating, we hold hands in front of people, maybe kiss a few times then we stage a break up. No harm done.”

Kiss. He wanted them to kiss. Well, no, not wanted, but he suggested it. Oh god.

“You do realize if your father kicks you out, you might never speak to him again.”

“If that’s the worst case scenario, then this plan is better than I thought.”

Will sighed again, running his hands over his face. He only had so much willpower. The boy he had been in love with for years was offering a free trial on a silver platter and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“How would it work?” he asked quietly, trying not to read into the way Mike’s face lit up when he said it.

“We would walk downstairs now holding hands and tell the party we’re dating. Then tomorrow we tell your family. Word gets around, my dad explodes, I move in with Nancy.”

“That’s it? That’s your genius plan? We need to figure out every step. How long have we been dating? Who asked who? When did you realize you were gay? Are you even gay or are you bisexual? Do we…”

Will trailed off and grinded his teeth. Mike cocked his head.

“Do we what?”

“...kiss?”

Mike paused a second before laughing at Will’s hushed tone.

“I would hope so, if we were dating.”

Will rolled his eyes and grabbed Mike by the shoulders to make him look at him, ignoring the way his heart fluttered at the contact. He needed to get this point across.

“Mike. If we were fake dating. If we kissed. Then that means that you would have to kiss me. On the lips. Me and you,” he said clearly, sure that this would be the deal breaker to snap him out of it. Instead, Mike just looked at him with the same serious face, pushing Will’s hands off his shoulders.

“Will. I know. That’s how kissing works,” he said with a shit eating grin.

“And you’re okay with that?”

This was Will’s lifelong dream and worst nightmare all wrapped into one.

“Yeah, I mean, it would be weird if it was like Lucas or something but it’s you.”

He said it so plainly, so surely that Will knew he meant it. And that hurt so wonderfully. His head was spinning. No, he did not want to kiss him, but he would rather kiss him than another boy. He offered.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Mike asked, making Will roll his eyes.

“Mike, when would I have ever had the chance to kiss someone?”

Mike just shrugged and leaned back against the sink. “Wanna practice? Y’know, before we kiss in front of someone else.”

Will blanched. “I- I still haven’t agreed, technically.”

His heart seemed to be trying to escape his ribcage and he willed it to calm down. This was not happening. Mike smiled at him, that wonderful smile, and knelt down on one knee, holding out cupped hands in front of him.

“William Byers, will you do me the honor of fake dating me?”

There was a pause, and then, “Ugh, fine. Get off the floor, it’s dirty.”

Mike stood and brushed off his pants with a haughty sort of pride at having convinced him. The boys looked at each other for a moment, saying nothing.

“So, uh, what now?” Will asked, fidgeting.

“You never answered my other question.” Mike said, stepping closer. Will’s heart pounded.

“What other question?”

Mike took another step so he was almost pressed against Will, but not quite.

“Wanna practice?”

Oh god. What was he supposed to say? Which answer was less suspicious? If he said yes, he would seem too eager, but if he said no, it would look like he was hiding something.

Mike studied his face and took a quick step back, looking guilty. “Hey, we don’t have to kiss at all if you’re not comfortable with that. Maybe we’re not a PDA couple.”

Will groaned internally. Had he just missed his one chance to kiss Mike Wheeler? It’s not like that offer was going to present itself again.

“No,” he said too quickly, “I mean, no it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. We can… kiss.”

Mike raised an eyebrow and stepped back into Will’s personal space.

“You sure?”

“M’sure,” he breathed.

Mike slowly reached out to grab his chin and Will tried not to squirm. His hands were big enough to cradle his whole face if he wanted to. He felt himself being tugged forward slightly and Mike Wheeler was kissing him. It was… disappointing. Will forgot to close his eyes or do anything with his lips and his hands were just hanging at his sides uselessly. Mike pulled away slightly. Well, that was it. His first kiss. Wahoo.

“You gonna kiss me back or what?” he asked with a smirk, his voice slightly scratchy, setting every nerve ending in his body on fire.

Their lips touched again, and this time he responded. He closed his eyes and kissed him back. Their lips slotted awkwardly at first, but Will tilted his head to the right and there it was. This was the kiss that he had wanted. It was soft and his heart was in his throat as he was trying so hard to not fuck it up. Mike pressed closer to him, putting a hand on the wall beside him. His lips opened slightly, prying Will’s open as he skated his tongue across his bottom lip. Will inhaled sharply through his nose and pulled away so he could breathe. His lips tingled slightly and he felt like he was only half awake.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Mike said plainly, looking unaffected. Will drew in a deep breath to steady his thoughts and nodded. Mike stepped away and held out his hand for Will to take.

“Shall we?”

Will took his hand shakily and their fingers interlocked. They had actually held hands before. They did it a lot as kids until they were told they weren’t supposed to. Mike’s hands were much bigger now than they had been back then, and Will hoped his weren’t too sweaty.

They made their way downstairs, hand in hand in the dark living room. All eyes flicked over to them from the TV, aside from Max who hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“What took you so long?” she asked while everyone else silently clocked their intertwined hands.

“Uh, sorry. Headache,” Will said plainly.

“Bullshit,” Max called from the couch.

“What?”

“Bullshit. What happened?”

Although she was blind, Max still never missed anything.

“Uh, well,” Mike said, cheeks coloring, “Me and Will are kinda dating.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment and Will considered taking his chances with a tall building, but then there was a cacophony of, “Finally!” and “I knew it!”, which Mike made a face at, but said nothing.

Eventually, everyone was tired enough to actually go to sleep, and they began to settle into their sleeping bags.

“What are you doing?” Will asked as Mike pushed his sleeping bag closer to his.

“Shouldn’t we sleep together?”

Will’s mouth went dry at the wording and he just nodded mutely as he crawled in to go to sleep. Mike did the same, so close that Will could feel his breath on his nose. Those lips. He had kissed those lips. Rather poorly at first, but still. Mike shifted even closer and Will swore all of Hawkins could hear his heart beating. Everyone else had already fallen asleep, it being three in the morning, so it was really just them.

“Mike,” Will whispered, “No one’s watching.”

“Just to be safe,” Mike whispered back, and leaned in, pressing their lips together quickly before pulling away and laying his head down, still facing him. “Goodnight, boyfriend.”

Will sighed. “Goodnight.”

If this plan didn’t go to shit, he owed the universe a lot of money.

#byler #stranger things #fanfic #byler fanfic #mike wheeler #will byers #fake dating #mlm #wip

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wooldamenace · 2 months ago

Text

Better People- (Samily Until Dawn)

romantic tension, fluff, light angst, possible gay thoughts, over 1.2k words

The mines were wet and cold, too cold for Emily's liking. Right now she needed something warm, something comforting not these damned mines. Nor the puddles ruining her designer boots.

The mines would breathe with her the frigid air heaving as she inhaled. In and out in and out. She didn't want this, to be curled up in fear after all she went through.

She wanted to apologize. She really did. She didn't mean to slap Ashley, at least not that hard. All she could do was mouth a quiet ‘sorry’. Then she felt it, hands on her shoulders.

Samantha Giddings. Her hands were sudden, but never unwelcome. Emily couldn't bring herself to look into Sam's silver eyes. They were glaring at her pointing.

“Em? Are you okay?” Sam's voice cut through her thoughts.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

Emily can't even respond. What even is the logical reaction for something like this? Getting a fucking gun pointed at you like you were a criminal.

Sam's hands examined the bite mark on Emily's shoulder. It didn't look that bad now that everyone had their head screwed on right.

As Emily, Sam, Chris, and Ashley conversed around this barred up safe room of the mines the wind of the caves got colder. Emily felt a hand pressing to her cheek. Sam.

“Em? Okay, your temperature is normal.” She sighed quietly, “Chris, hand me the first aid kit.” Sam ordered the boy around, and before Emily knew it she was being patched up by Samantha.

“It doesn't look half bad I'd say.” Sam says, trying to lighten the mood as she always did.

Em couldn't stop, she couldn't stop the tears as she cried and apologized, Emily rarely cried. She only cried under two circumstances, she was alone, or she was hurt and alone, and right now she was just hurt.

“I'm, I'm sorry. Ashley I didn't mean t-to…”

She felt Sam wipe away her tears with her dri-fit hoodie. Emily couldn't only look at Sam through her tear glazed eyes, and Sam would keep wiping them. As Emily sniffles she tries to wipe her distraught away.

“Hey, hey don't wipe those, I don't want your jacket getting more ruined then it already is…” Sam said.

Everything was blue, maybe it was the tears, the possible frostbite, the shock finally setting in but everything to Emily was distorted, but no one could blame her, she had a gun shoved in her face by a man who not even a few hours ago was begging for Emily to get back together with him. Michael Munroe was an asshole, a stupid asshole who thought with his dick.

As Sam mentioned to go look for Mike, Emily followed her friend close behind begrudgingly. She didn't want him to die, but maybe they could have waited a bit longer. The group struggled behind Sam who was practically meant for climbing mountains and cave diving or whatever it was called. Emily had no idea how Sam was not wheezing for her life as she helped the injured Chris down ledges and up rocky walls with ease who was obviously heavier than her.

As Emily slipped, Sam had caught her. “Jeez, Em we gotta get you more shoes with actual traction on them.” Sam joked around a bit, causing Em to laugh. She hated Sam's stupidly cute quips, with how long she's known you she should've gotten used to it.

Sam's toned arms wrapped around Emily until she regained her balance. Jeez Louise, was Sam always this pretty? Samantha the girl who draws in the margins of her notes for fun? Little miss moral high ground? No, definitely not. It's the gratitude, the reaction of someone still attempting to be so level headed in a space of a massive fatal situation that's what's attractive, not Sam. No way. Not the way she barely breaks a sweat spelunking down these damned mines, maybe that's a little sexy, but anyone would find that sexy.

But Em has more things to worry about like if she was going to make it out alive, rather than the girl who's saved your life multiple times tonight is starting to look a little too attractive. It's definitely the cave fumes getting to her. All the old miner's dust and grime making her all woozy.

Em felt the water of the cave seep into her boots. Dammit those were expensive, and real cute too. Now the idea of trench foot was on the table? These boots were a lot, she saved up for them just for this little retreat, maybe to make herself look like she was doing great. Even though she wasn't, inside she was all jumbled up, scared, guilty, angry, and who knows what else.

“Sam?” Emily whispered as she walked along behind Sam while Ashley and Chris walked behind them.

“Yeah?”

“Are you not freezing?”

“Trust me, I am… these leggings are killing me.”

They duo stayed quiet, as if to be cautious of the creatures from the mines, listening for its long and quick strides, as it could teleport from place to place.

“Borrow my jacket.”

“Emily, no.”

“Sam-”

“I am fine. Okay?”

“Are you sure?”

Sam stopped walking for a second as if she was frozen, stuck looking for an answer. She knew she wasn't okay. She came back to this mountain for one reason and one reason only, to get some fucking closure. Not this. Sam should be asleep in a bed, or relaxing in the Washington family lodge in front of the fireplace. In a perfect world, Sam would be sketching in her diary, while her friends played a drinking game.

“I don't know.”

“Listen, I'm sor-”

“I know, and so am I. We're shitty people. Makes me think this is just karma.”

“Sam,” Emily placed her hand on Samantha's shoulder, the usually neat blonde hair of Sam, getting a bit frizzy and messy. “If I could change the past. I would've.”

“So would most of us.”

“I know.” Sam shuddered due to the cold frigid air of the cave. “If we get back to the lodge safely, I'm gonna need a good sleep.” That comment caused Emily to genuinely laugh, the first one in a while.

“You know, you're funny sometimes Sam.”

“Sometimes? Ouch my ego.”

“You know what I mean. You ease the tension. You try your best to keep everything and everyone together. Makes me realize I shoulda been a better friend to you.” Em confesses quietly, as if she's been sitting on that for a hot minute, as if she held it on after this night she'd die with that in her.

“I should've been a better person to you too.”, Samantha says, holding Emily's hand in her own,“Maybe we can start to be better people?” Her voice breaking as if that's all she needed right now.

“I'd love to be a better person with you, and I guess the rest of our friends too.” Emily said, but mainly Sam. She had to make it up to her somehow. Emily was responsible for causing so much pain for Sam, Josh, the Washington family, everyone, and now it's time to get better.

“Don't say it like that, you wanna be a better person for all of us.” Sam said optimistically.

“Mhm yeah, sure.” Emily groaned lovingly as Sam hugged her.

“I can't wait to see the better person you become, Em…”, and that sentence was enough, it will always be enough.

Emily smiled, a real fucking smile. With tears running down her face, the liquid left trails as if it was burning her to cry.

“I'll be better. I swear.” Emily said as they continued walking. Even if they didn't make it out Sam could tell that Emily was going to be the best version of herself she could be.

Have a great day guys! xoxo - Wool

(This was part of my commissions I'm opening up soon! I'll be posting more info on that!)

#until dawn #emily davis #samantha giddings #samily #fluff #slight angst #oneshot #wools commisions

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bellaxgiornata · 2 years ago

Text

Safe Haven [Chapter Eleven]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Finally getting chapter eleven up after a little break working on this fic! We get some cheeky Mikey fluff at the end of this one and the date you're all probably looking forward to will be in the next chapter! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery

"You were going to leave without saying anything to me?" Megan snapped.

Her hand darted out across the table, slapping your arm sharply and causing you to press a few keys on your laptop keyboard accidentally. Your head turned towards her, a guilty look on your face.

"What the fuck, sis?" she shot. "You could have at least told me!"

“You’d have tried to come up with some ridiculous plan for me to stay,” you replied. “Don’t tell me otherwise.”

“We both could have talked to Birdy!” she exclaimed. “She likes me! Or we could’ve talked to Michael! I’m sure she would’ve listened to him .”

“I didn’t know that was a possibility, okay?” you explained. “I kept telling myself he’d believe her over me. And I figured if I told you I was leaving, you’d do something crazy like tell Michael–”

Megan pointed a firm finger at you, her expression serious when she cut you off. “You’re damn fucking right I’d have gone and told his ass you were getting run out of the country by his aunt. Because I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be too thrilled if you just up and left on him. That man has caught feelings for you.” Her hand lowered, picking up her mug of coffee from the table with a sigh as she brought it to her lips. “So what did end up happening? Since you’re still here, I assume something happened.”

You sighed yourself, sitting back in the kitchen chair and focusing on your sister instead of the emails you’d been looking through. “I had my bags in the trunk of the car, was ready to make my way to the airport, but then Michael just literally shows up at that exact moment before I could leave,” you told her.

“Wow, that is some fortuitous luck,” she muttered.

“Birdy had been driving him back from the Garda station,” you continued. “So she was trying to tell him I was a liar and then I just–just blurted out the reason why I was actually leaving. It seemed to change her tune real quick. But oh Meg, you should have seen how pissed he was.”

“At you?” she asked, her brows pulling together.

You shook your head quickly. “No, at Birdy. For threatening me,” you told her.

Her eyes went wide as she swiftly leaned across the table towards you. “Was he screaming and cursing a bunch? Threatening her back?”

“Threatening her a bit it seemed. But no, it wasn’t some violent, loud outburst,” you answered. “It was like…this really calm, really collected rage. She practically shrank under his stare. It was…”

“Scary?” Megan supplied.

“No,” you admitted, a sheepish smile on your lips as you ducked your head. “It was…kind of hot, actually.”

Megan barked out a laugh, the sound only drawing a blush to further form on your cheeks.

“Oh my God!” she squealed. “You want him to do some bad, bad things to you in the bedroom, don’t you?”

“What?” you asked in alarm, eyes going wide as your head darted back up.

“Stop it,” she said, grinning at you. “Because I also want him to do some bad, bad things to you in the bedroom. Damn girl, you need it.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, eyes returning to your laptop.

“So was that all that happened? Because you were passed out last night when I got home, so you didn’t really tell me anything before bed,” she pressed.

Your bottom lip rolled between your teeth as you tried to bite back a smile. Megan caught on quickly, gasping audibly before she was leaning across the table again, slapping your arm repeatedly.

“Spill, bitch! Spill! Did you two finally fuck?” she pried.

“No, we didn’t do that!” you answered her, trying to swat away her hands. “But we talked briefly about Victor. And…some other things. But then he asked me out for coffee tomorrow morning and then we…kissed.”

Megan’s expression quickly changed to something soft as she cooed, “Aww, you finally kissed him? How was it? Was it good?”

Your gaze lowered to the table, the smile growing on your face as you recalled that moment from yesterday morning. You remembered the heavy sexual tension you felt in the air with his forehead pressed to yours, his warm breath falling over your lips. The way he’d finally and so carefully pressed his lips to yours in a gentle, sweet kiss. How your heart was pounding in your chest when his mouth had moved so deliberate and slow against yours. You’d melted into him on that couch when his big hands gradually held you firmly to him, right before his tongue had slipped into your mouth. You could still recall the way he tasted, the way his tongue felt against yours, and the memory of that alone was beginning to stir a heat within you.

“Okay, well it must’ve been good because it looks like you’re getting a lady boner thinking about it,” Megan said, breaking through your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, licking your lips as you focused back on her. Biting back a smile you admitted, “He’s a really good kisser. And I would certainly like to explore…��more of that with him.”

“And more of him , I’m sure,” Megan teased.

You rolled your eyes, your focus returning back to your emails. “Okay, yes, I would,” you agreed. “But I’m–”

Your sentence hung unfinished in the air when you spotted a new email that had come into your work email address inbox. The sender’s email address instantly caught your eye. It was your previous address from where you’d just disappeared from before uprooting and moving to Dublin. Swallowing hard, you realized Victor must have finally caught wind of your place in Wisconsin. It was probably only a matter of time before he discovered you’d been in Chicago next. Would he be able to figure out where you’d flown to from O’Hare airport?

“But you’re what?” Megan said in annoyance, nudging you with her foot under the table. “Come on, you know I hate when you leave me hanging like that.”

Mouth opening, no words came out as you continued to stare at the email. You felt the cold prickle of fear steadily creeping up your spine, blanketing you in the unpleasant sensation.

“Grace?” your sister called out.

“It’s him,” you whispered, eyes glued to the screen. “He’s getting closer.”

Megan pushed her chair out, rising to her feet. “What?” she asked.

Stepping around behind you, Megan placed her hands on the back of your chair and leaned over your shoulder. You pointed at the email address on the screen.

“That’s my old address in Wisconsin,” you explained. “I’d noticed he’d caught onto where I’d last stayed in Washington and slipped out to Chicago for a few weeks. I was afraid he’d find me in Wisconsin if I didn’t. And then I–I panicked in Chicago and that’s why I came out here.”

You turned, looking at your sister beside you. Her focus steadily shifted back to you.

“I thought my best chance to get away was to finally leave the States,” you told her. “But I’m starting to worry. Birdy mentioned the Serpents have a chapter in Cork.”

Megan’s face fell as she stood upright, her hands landing on her hips. “You’re kidding me, right? They’re here now, too?”

“Yeah, apparently,” you answered. “Running guns in Ireland. Probably a new source for the Club Stateside. It makes sense.”

Megan’s eyes slowly returned to your laptop screen, your own gaze following it. She gestured a hand towards your computer.

“So are you going to open it?” she asked.

You shook your head quickly, staring at the email address that felt like it was taunting you. “No,” you said. “I’m starting to wonder if he’s tracking me through some of this. It’s better that I change my work email address again, but my editor is going to be pissed because I just did that a few days ago.”

“Who cares,” Megan said. “I’d rather she be pissed than you be dead.”

"Yeah," you breathed out.

With your pulse still racing, you exited out of your email and closed your laptop. That feeling of being watched returned and the sensation only made your skin crawl.

"We'll figure it out, okay?" Megan assured you. "And maybe it'll be harder for him to find you here. He's probably expecting you somewhere in the U.S. still. I doubt he'd think to look in Ireland."

"Right," you replied softly. "You're–you're probably right."

Movement outside of the kitchen window caught both of your attention, your heads both quickly spinning in the direction to see what it was. Birdy was making her way up the paved driveway and you noticed she was carrying a plate in her hands. What the hell was she up to now?

"Not what I needed this morning at all," you complained, rising to your feet.

"Maybe she isn't coming to run you out of Ireland this time?" Megan suggested.

You didn't answer her as you made your way to the front door. Opening it, you came face to face with Birdy and the polite smile on her face. Crossing your arms over your chest, you leant up against the doorframe as Megan came to stand behind you.

"Birdy," you greeted sharply.

"G'mornin' dears," she said cheerily. "I hope you're doin' well?"

"Better than I was doing earlier in the week," you answered flatly with a pointed stare.

Her smile briefly faltered at your words, her eyes landing on Megan behind you for a moment before they returned to you. Awkwardly she held up the plate in her hands, your eyes dropping down to the baked good that was on it.

"Made ya both a coffee cake," she said. "Couldn' exactly sleep last night and I felt bad for…what I'd done."

"How do I know you didn't poison that?" you asked, gesturing to the coffee cake.

Birdy’s face fell as she nodded. "S'pose I deserve that," she said. "But I didn't poison it. I came to offer a proper apology. For what I unknowingly did to ya, dear."

One of your brows arched in surprise at her. You certainly hadn't been expecting that as the cause of her visit.

"Would it be alrigh' if I come inside for a chat, Grace?" she asked hopefully. "Just the two of us?"

For a moment you contemplated what she was asking of you, your lips pressing firmly together as you stared back at her. Eventually you pushed off the doorframe and stepped aside, waving Birdy in. You figured it was probably better to hear her out. If she really was going to make amends it was better to have Birdy on your side than against you.

Birdy made her way straight to the kitchen as you closed the front door, hearing Megan following behind her. When you stepped into the kitchen yourself, you saw your sister grabbing her half empty mug of coffee from the table where you both had previously been, her eyes lingering hungrily on the coffee cake as she began to make her way out of the room.

"I'll be in the back garden if you need me," she said to you as she passed by.

Your attention focused on Birdy, arms still firmly crossed over your chest as you stood opposite the kitchen island from her. Neither of you spoke until you'd heard the back door slide open and then closed again, signaling the pair of you really were alone.

"I'm sorry for jumpin' to conclusions, Grace," Birdy began, her tone shockingly sincere. "I noticed somethin' seemed off from the moment I met ya and I couldn' let it go. I had to look into it because that naggin' feelin' wouldn't leave me be. I needed to make sure ya weren't some sorta threat to my family. Ya have to understand that, at least."

"I do," you replied, arms still crossed over your chest. "I understand that, but you also threatened me, Birdy."

That look you'd seen her give Mikey yesterday morning was on her face again now. It was oddly disarming as she glanced down at the coffee cake on the counter before her. Her fingers were nervously tapping along the edge of the plate.

"I–I cannot apologize enough," she said, gently saying your real name. "I didn't know he was your ex-fiance. Nor did I know he was…violent with ya. There was–was nothin’ in my searchin’ that woulda been able to tell me any of that."

She winced, her gaze still on the coffee cake but it looked distant. As if she was somewhere else right now, somewhere besides your sister’s kitchen. You watched her in silence, waiting for her to speak again.

"I s'pose I should have read it on your face, dear," she continued quietly. "I understand what it was that caught my attention with ya now. Because I’ve been there myself."

You stiffened at her admission, sucking in a sharp breath. The sound drew her eyes back up to yours. She sent you a sad smile before she slowly nodded.

“Ya aren’t alone, Grace,” she admitted. “But ya say you're here in Dublin hidin' from your ex then?"

"Yes," you answered.

Birdy’s eyes narrowed a little at your response. "How long have ya been hidin' from him, dear?" she asked next.

"Almost two years," you confessed.

"And he’s lookin' to hurt ya, is he?" she pressed.

You nodded, your arms further tightening over your chest. The email from just a bit ago flashed through your mind.

"More like kill me," you told her.

Birdy eyed you for a long moment, her eyes softer than they'd ever been towards you. You felt yourself gradually relaxing in her presence this time.

"Have ya ever thought 'bout fightin' back, pet?" she asked curiously. "Instead of hidin'?"

Brows rising up onto your forehead, you gaped back at her. "What?" you questioned.

She pressed both of her hands to the countertop, leaning forward towards you. There was a dangerous smile drawing the corners of her lips up, something devious in the piercing blue of her eyes.

"Have ya thought 'bout takin' him out yourself, dear?" she clarified. "Standin' your ground? Stop lettin' him scare ya away from living your life?"

"Are you suggesting I kill him?" you gasped, eyes widening.

"I'm suggestin' exactly that," she replied.

Mouth still open, you could feel your heart beating wildly in your chest at the idea. You'd never considered that before. You'd certainly never killed someone before and you didn't think you had it in you. Victor was dangerous and he certainly would not hesitate to kill you, but you? Kill him ?

"Now I don’t necessarily mean you need to be doin’ the deed. But it’s just a thought, dear," Birdy said, pushing back off the counter and shrugging a shoulder. "Ya caught Mikey's eye and I have a feelin' he's already thinkin' along those lines himself."

"I don't want him involved," you said immediately. "I don't want him to get hurt."

"Ohh, love," Birdy said with a light laugh. "I assure ya that our sweet Mikey can certainly handle himself. Ya don’t need to worry your pretty little head ‘bout him.” Birdy’s head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowing again. “D’ya have a gun, dear?”

“What?” you asked, surprised again by her bluntness. “No–no. Not here. It’s not exactly like I could travel with one.”

Birdy’s hand lightly patted the countertop. “I’ll get ya one, Grace. In case ya have need of it. Ya never know,” she said. “But maybe let’s not tell Mikey ‘bout it, yeah? I imagine he’ll be wantin’ to be doin’ the protectin’.”

“I–” you paused, your brows knitting together in confusion on your forehead.

All week Birdy had been wary of you. Making threats and trying to push you out of Dublin. Now she was showing up with coffee cake and chatting, offering to bring you a gun for protection. It was a drastic change from how she’d been and it had made you more than a little curious and confused.

“Why’re you suddenly trying to help me?” you asked. “You’ve been spending this past week trying to get rid of me and now you’re offering to bring me a gun?”

“I don’t like men like your ex,” Birdy stated sharply, her jaw set firm. “And I look out for my family. Even though I know ya aren’t family, pet, ya mean somethin’ to my Mikey. And that means somethin’ to me. So as long as you aren’t a threat to the Kinsellas, you’ll have me lookin’ out for both your sister and yourself.”

You swallowed the lump of emotions forming in your throat at her words. It had been so long–too long–since anyone else had looked out for you. Now here Birdy was, easily switching from enemy to ally just like that.

“I’ve seen how happy you’ve been makin’ Mikey lately,” Birdy added softly, a little smile returning to her mouth. “It warms my heart. He cares ‘bout ya. And I’m guessin’ the feeling’s mutual?”

Heat crept onto your cheeks, your eyes dropping down to your feet. “I haven’t exactly had the opportunity to be with anyone in a long time,” you admitted. “Never stayed anywhere long enough after Victor. I tried to push him away but–” you bit your lip, recalling the way his hazel eyes saw you. “I can’t–can’t seem to stay away from him. It’s like he gets me. Sees me. Doesn’t judge me. And I just…find myself wanting to let him in.”

“Hmm,” Birdy happily hummed out, making her way around the kitchen island towards you. “He’s a good man, Michael. A very good man. One with a very big heart. Don’t let his past scare ya, dear. He’d never hurt ya. Despite the things he’s done, Mikey’s a very gentle soul.”

Your eyes rose back up and landed on Birdy’s warm smile. Somehow the heat only increased in your cheeks at the conversation.

“I’m not afraid of him,” you said. “I’ve already told him that.”

“Good,” Birdy stated. “Bet he needed to hear that. But I won’t overstay my welcome, pet,” she continued. “If ya need me, ya know where I live. Don’t hesitate to ask for help with anythin’–especially if it’s some of the Kinsellas themselves. Sometimes they can be a handful and we currently have some… things keepin’ us on edge.”

“I haven’t exactly met the others,” you told her.

“Ahh well,” Birdy said, a grin on her face. “I’m sure ya will soon enough.”

You watched as she turned, making her way out of the kitchen and towards the front door. A few seconds later you startled when she popped her head back into the kitchen.

“I’ll get ya that gun, soon,” she assured you. “Don’t ya worry.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Birdy sent you one last smile before she opened the front door and stepped out. Through the kitchen window you watched as she made her way back down the driveway and turned towards her house.

So she was going to get you a gun and she wasn’t trying to run you out of Ireland anymore. She seemed sincere in her apology, too. Things seemed to be working out, for now at least.

Maybe Dublin wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you could let your walls down a little bit here. And maybe Birdy was on to something about standing your ground instead of hiding.

Resting your back against the headboard of your bed, you were working on interacting with your fans on social media just as Angela had reminded you to do earlier this evening. As you’d predicted, she’d been quite agitated when you needed to change your email address yet again so soon, but when you’d told her you’d made progress towards the deadline, she’d quickly eased up on you.

After Birdy’s visit earlier, despite the intimidating email this morning, your mood had lightened a bit and you’d found the words just seemed to flow right out of you. You’d managed to write quite a few thousand words before you’d gotten a bit of a headache and decided to focus on social media before calling it a night. Which is why you’d been relaxing on your bed for the past hour now, responding to messages and comments. Thankfully none of which were from your ex this time.

The light turning on in Michael’s room caught your eye and you immediately glanced up from your laptop screen on your lap. Michael was making his way into his bedroom, one hand running through his hair. He looked tired as he shuffled into his room, but he stopped in his tracks when he spotted you laying on the bed. Hand slowly dropping to his side, a smile began to form on his lips.

You hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning when he’d stopped you from leaving. You’d admittedly been a little disappointed when he hadn’t reached out to you at all today–or later last night to potentially continue where things had left off–but you knew you were getting coffee with him tomorrow morning. You’d see him then. But watching him now as he slowly made his way towards his bedroom window with his eyes locked on you and that grin steadily growing on his mouth, you realized you’d really missed him today.

Michael eventually came to a stop at his window, his hands reaching down and pulling it up. He stuck a hand out, gesturing towards your window and clearly asking you to do the same. With a playful roll of your eyes, you closed out of the tabs on your laptop and closed it, setting it aside on the mattress. And then you slid off the side of the bed and rose to your feet, making your way over towards the window. Grabbing onto it, you pulled it up high and were greeted with the chilly night air outside. You bent down and stuck your head outside, resting your elbows on the window ledge. Across from you, Michael copied the gesture, a tired smile on his face as he did. With the pair of you leaning out of the window like this, you could have been close enough to touch if you both had just reached out.

“Hi,” you said, unable to resist the grin forming on your own mouth.

“Hey,” he replied.

“Haven't seen you in awhile,” you told him.

“I’m sorry ‘bout that,” he replied, a hand scratching at his beard. “Family shite came up. Been dealin’ with the…aftermath of some things.”

The shooting he’d done the other night, no doubt. It had probably started a feud. You hoped it wasn’t anything too serious though.

“I understand,” you said. “Been…dealing with a few things myself.”

His dark brows pulled together instantly, his expression switching to concern and worry. “Your ex?” he asked.

You shook your head, eyes focusing on your fidgeting hands. “Nothing serious at the moment. Nothing to be too worried about just yet at least. But Birdy paid me a visit this morning,” you told him.

“She come 'round to make more threats?” Michael asked, an edge to his words.

“No!” you answered quickly, eyes flying back up to his face as you shook your head. “No, she actually came over to apologize. And it was…surprisingly genuine. I hadn’t been expecting that. Or the coffee cake."

The muscles in his face relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing. He ran a hand over his mouth, a small smile already back on it.

“Yeah, Birdy she–she's a good one," he said, the fondness clear in his voice. "She means well, but she's very protective over the family." The smile faltered on his face, the corners of his lips curving downward as he continued. "And I'm sorry she did what she did to ya, Grace. It wasn' right."

"Well it's settled now," you assured him.

"I'm–I'm glad ya didn't leave, either," he admitted softly.

"Me too," you agreed.

A coy smile gradually spread over your lips as you continued to hold his gaze. Michael’s brow rose curiously at the sight of it.

"Because I'd have apparently missed a really good kiss if I had," you added.

A bark of surprised laughter flew out of Michael, a bright smile lighting up his face once again. The sound stirred something warm in you, your heart skipping happily in your chest. You watched as he bit his lip when his laughter subsided, eyeing you fondly across the small distance.

"Yeah?" he asked, a boyish grin on his mouth. "Ya weren't the only one who would've missed it. I'll tell ya that."

"You know," you continued with a sly smile, watching as his only grew when he leaned further out of his window towards you, "we never did get to pick up where we left off."

"Mmm," he hummed out, coming to rest his chin in his palm. "You're right. We didn't. Maybe tomorrow mornin' we can."

"Oh that's right," you teased, feigning innocence. "You asked me on a date, didn't you?"

"Only took ya two times to finally accept," he countered.

You laughed, your body feeling like it was lighter than air right now. It had been so long since you'd felt like this and somehow Michael kept managing to achieve it without really even trying. There was just something about him, you didn't understand it, but he made you feel safe. When you were with him, you forgot all your worries and fears. It was just the two of you.

You liked it.

"I'm lookin' forward to gettin' coffee with ya in the mornin'," Michael confessed. "But I should probably get some sleep myself. Been a long couple of days for me."

You nodded, ignoring the disappointment that flooded you. You'd see him tomorrow, you reminded yourself. For a date. And you'd surely get to kiss him again then.

"I won't keep you up," you told him. "I should probably get some sleep soon, too."

"G'night, Grace," he said, a warm smile on his mouth.

"Goodnight, Michael," you replied.

Both of you slipped back through your windows, your eyes still locked on each other as you both closed them. You couldn't help but laugh when you saw him grab onto his curtains to close them.

"No show tonight?" you joked, knowing he couldn't hear you.

Michael paused, his eyes on your lips as his brows drew together in confusion. His hand released his curtain and instead came down to reopen his window. He gestured back to yours and you felt heat creeping up your neck. Slowly you opened your window back up.

"What'd ya say, pet?" he asked, brows still pulled together. "Didn't hear ya."

You cleared your throat awkwardly. He wasn't supposed to have heard what you'd said to begin with but how else did you respond to that?

"I uh, I was just saying there's no show for me tonight," you said, your cheeks burning.

Michael’s eyebrows rose slowly onto his forehead, a cheeky grin snaking its way onto his lips. "Oh yeah? Enjoyed that did ya?" he teased.

Swallowing hard, you wished you could disappear into the floor. "I was–was just joking," you replied awkwardly.

"Mmm," he hummed out, that cheeky smile still on his mouth. "Well I been wonderin' where my show was," he teased.

Your jaw dropped at his unexpected boldness and Michael chuckled. You hadn't anticipated that to come out of him.

"Michael Kinsella," you said, his name coming out more breathless than you'd intended which only appeared to grow his smile. "And here I was thinking you were a little shy ."

He laughed again, shaking his head at you. "I assure ya, pet, I'm not shy," he told you. "But I'm only jokin' myself."

Closing your mouth you tried to recover, but it was difficult considering the look that Michael was still giving you from his room. Especially after that comment. You wished you could jump the gap into his room and discover just how not shy he really was.

"I'll see ya in the mornin', Grace," he said, shooting you a wink.

You tried to bite back the smile on your face, your cheeks burning still. You wondered if he could see it as he lowered his window, that cheeky grin turning a little smug smirk on his face. Reaching up, you lowered your own window, your eyes still fixed on Michael as you did.

You were about to send him a wave and close your curtains, but you saw his hands grab the hem of his navy sweater before he pulled it up over his head, tossing it onto the floor behind him like he'd done the other morning. Laughter bubbled out of you, a hand lifting to cover your mouth as you watched him point to you through the window. You swore he'd said 'just for you' before he grinned, the brightness from his smile reaching his eyes. Your own eyes openly roved the sight of his now exposed chest, your fingers desperately itching to touch him.

He was certainly attractive, you couldn't deny it.

You were still laughing when he sent a wave your way, your hand falling from your mouth to return the gesture. Slowly he closed the curtains, cutting off your view of him. It took you a moment to stop the giggles that your laughter had fallen into and finally close your own curtains.

As you made your way back to your bed, flipping open your laptop to finish what you'd been doing before you went to sleep, you couldn't help but realize you were still smiling. You certainly liked Michael Kinsella, that much was incredibly obvious. And whatever this was forming between you both had been absolutely unexpected when you'd disappeared to Dublin. But you were quickly becoming grateful for it.

And as the night wore on, you found yourself steadily growing giddy and nervous for your coffee date with him tomorrow morning.

#michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella #kin (amc)#michael kinsella fanfic

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blckbarbiedoll · 6 months ago

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Ghost Of You (M.B.)-Chapter 5

Thanks

2005-Chicago, Illinois

"Michael!" Donna called from the bustling kitchen. "Go set the table!"

"I got it, Ma!" He grabbed the plates and walked over to Carmy who was drawing in the living room. "Mom wants you to set the table."

"She just called for you."

"No she didn't." He smirked before taking the paper from his hands and replacing it with the stack of plates.

"Fine." The blonde boy groaned and headed towards the dining room.

Mikey walked up the stairs and found Angie staring at herself in the bathroom mirror. He grinned and grabbed her hand.

"Hi." He kissed her softly.

"I just got my lipstick right, babe." She pulled away and fixed it.

"You look great. What's the problem?"

"I'm meeting your family."

"You've met my family a million times before."

"It's different. We're together now. I want them to approve of me."

"Who gives a fuck if they approve of you?" He slung his arm around her neck. "I approve of you."

"Okay, it sounds weird when you say it."

"You know what I mean." He rolled his eyes. "But seriously, relax. It's just another Thanksgiving."

"Yeah. You're right."

"Always am."

"Now that's a stretch."

🤍

People started flooding in one by one. All familiar faces that Angie had become aquatinted with over the years.

"Hi, Angie."

"Hey, Uncle Jimmy." She smiled, walking over to the man.

He hugged her and kissed her cheek. "How are ya, kid?"

"I'm good. You?"

"Eh, you know how it is. Everyone's driving me crazy."

"Well, you made it."

"I did. You look good. How old are you now?"

"Twenty."

"Man, time sure flies by."

"Not too much, Unc." Mikey came up behind her and slid his arm around her waist.

"Woah. What is this?" He pointed between the two of them.

"We're together." Angie explained. "Four months."

"Fuck me." He chuckled. "I never would've guessed. Nevertheless, I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Uncle J."

"Alright, I'm gonna go talk to your Ma." He patted Mikey on the shoulder before heading to the kitchen.

"I need a drink." Angie sighed.

"Heard." He kissed her cheek. "I'll be back."

Angie walked into the living room and sat on the couch. Not long after, Richie joined her.

"You know when the food'll be ready?" He asked.

"No. I'm not making it."

"Fuck. I'm starving." He groaned, lighting a cigarette.

"Hey, where's that girl you were dating?"

"Who?"

"Uh...Jane?"

"Jane. Jane." He repeated under his breath, trying to jog a memory. "Jane- oh! Jamie!"

"Yeah, Jamie. Where's she at?"

"We split."

"Why?"

"She was just too...serious."

"Yeah, I can see why that would be hard for you."

"I don't think I'm ever gonna find anyone."

"Of course you will."

"I can't believe Michael got a girl before I did."

"Yeah, and I got the best one." Mikey walked over and handed her a glass of wine.

"Thanks, baby."

"Ange!" Nat called from the kitchen. "Can you stir while I help Mom?"

"I don't need help, Natalie!"

"Oh boy." Angie stood up and headed to them.

Mikey sat next to his friend and sighed.

"Can I ask you something?" Richie spoke.

"Yeah."

"You really like her?"

"I love her."

"Like seriously? 'Cause I know how she feels about you, and I know how you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I love Angie and I don't want you hurting her."

"Is this the same guy that was tryna fuck her a few months ago?"

"I'm just sayin. Don't fuck this up."

"I'm not planning on it. I'm gonna marry her."

"Woah. Relax. You just got together."

"I'm not talking about right now. But I know I'm gonna marry her."

"How do you just know that?"

"When the right person comes, you just do. I can't explain it." He smirked. "You'll see once it happens to you."

"Boys." Jimmy stuck his head in the doorway. "Donna's done with the food."

"Thank fucking god." Richie stood up and rushed to the table.

Everyone sat around the large oak table while Donna set the food down. After hours of stressful prep, she looked so relieved.

"Let's all go around and say what we're thankful for." Donna smiled. "I'll go first. I'm thankful for you all showing up year after year."

Everyone took their turns, until Angie and Mikey were left.

"I'm thankful for you guys, the restaurant, and my Angie." He kissed her hand.

She felt her cheeks heat up as everyone gushed over his comment.

"I'm thankful for this family and how you've all welcomed me into it. I don't really have my own, so I really appreciate it."

"You'll always be family, honey." Donna said to her.

"Thank you. I love you guys. And I love you." She turned to Michael and kissed him softly.

Happy Thanksgiving, baby."

#fanfic #mikey berzatto x oc #richie jerimovich x oc #mikey berzatto #richie jerimovich #the bear

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madsworld15 · 7 months ago

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Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me Chapter 5 Part 2

Hello, my friends! This is the second part of this chapter update. I believe there will be 3 parts to this one, making this chapter a little bit shorter than usual. Thank you for the support as I try to crank out this latest update.

“I know you say you can’t lose this job, but what about him? Can you bear to lose him?” Cynthia gave him a questioning look and then gracefully exited his office.

Left alone in his office with Justin, Brian allowed himself to smile at the younger man. He hated that Cynthia was right. The thought of Justin not being around was something Brian didn’t want to think about ever becoming a reality. But, at the back of his mind, he knew there was a good chance that if Brian’s inability to form attachments didn’t eventually get to Justin, their difference in sexual needs probably would.

Brian wanted to talk with Justin about his sexuality and how they could work together with Brian’s insatiable need for physical release. However, his irrational fear of people leaving him forced him to take pause. If he started to put to word his insecurities Justin would see he wasn’t as confident about them as he presented and would definitely look for companionship elsewhere. No, he would have to shelve that conversation for another day — a day far, far into the future.

Two days later, Brian was getting ready for work, and Justin was still in bed. As Brian worked to tie his tie, he trudged over to the bed and sat down on the edge. He gently pulled the blankets back and ran his fingers through Justin’s hair. As he did so, Justin winced in his sleep and grunted uncomfortably. That’s when Brian noticed the blond’s hand twitching before it seized up in a sort of claw.

“Justin,” Brian urged the young man by shaking his shoulder. “Come on. It’s time to get up. We have to do your hand stretches.”

Justin opened his eyes enough to throw a glare Brian’s way before saying, “fuck off.”

Brian bit his lip. He didn’t want to be more aggressive with the young man because he deserved to dictate his own coping method, but if Justin ever wanted to draw like he used to again, he needed to keep up with his PT and OT.

With a final sigh, Brian stood up and added. “Okay. Let your hand wither and die. No skin off my back. In fact, I’ll save money on all the therapy you won’t be doing anymore.”

Michael and Emmett hated it when Brian approached people that way. But he knew Justin needed to feel like Brian wasn’t put out by his condition. Brian understood because he was the same way. Relying on someone felt good initially but soon became guilt the longer you required assistance.

He left the loft without ensuring Justin got out of bed. He knew that if Justin didn’t go to his mental health therapist today, the doctor would call and inquire about his headspace. So, the older man was determined to get things done for Remson before that call inevitably came. Before going to the office, Brian made a pit stop at Liberty Diner for a coffee and muffin. He didn’t often eat heavy carbs like that early in the day, but he already knew today would be long and stressful.

Emmett sat at the counter, eating his usual donut with a fork. Brian shook his head at the younger man as he sat beside him.

“Honeycutt, you do realize no one here is going to take away your sugar coma?” Brian flipped a coffee mug over and quietly signaled for Debbie to come over.

Debbie approached a moment later, “Hey, Bri. How’s Justin doing? He was supposed to work yesterday but didn’t show up.”

Brian looked between the expectant gazes of his friend and surrogate mother. How much should he share about Justin’s current headspace?

“He’s fine. He’s coping.” Brian shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “Could I get a blueberry muffin?”

“Isn’t it a bit early for carbs like that?” Emmett looked at him incredulously.

Brian rolled his eyes. “If you must know, Vance has been all over my ass about this new pharmaceutical account, and with Justin and his therapy, things have been…” Then he shrugged and reached for the muffin, shoving a piece of it into his mouth.

“You know, Brian. We’re here to help if you can’t handle Justin.” Debbie cut in. Brian knew she meant well, but still, his temper flared.

“I’m fine! He’s fine. He just needs a few days. You would too if the law basically denied the attack that almost killed you even happened.” Brian threw down a few bills, picked up the remainder of his muffin, and stalked out of the diner.

The moment he made it to his office, Cynthia was there with a harried look on her face. She told Brian that Vance had been looking for him. Brian groaned and told Cynthia to ring Vance and tell him to come to Brian’s office for a change.

Moments later, his partner was standing in front of Brian’s desk, making things extremely awkward. Brian motioned for the man to take a seat, but he refused. So, Brian stood up, went over to his bar cart, and offered the man a drink, which he did accept.

“So, what can I do for you?” Brian asked, trying to hide the annoyance he felt having to steer the conversation that he didn’t even ask for.

“You know how you managed to sign Brown Athletics?” Vance anxiously tugged on his hands.

“Yes…” Brian gave the older man a quizzical brow. “And?”

“Well, Leo Brown called me last night to let me know he isn’t happy with the current speed at which his new campaign is being designed and then put out to the public. I tried to smooth things over, but he insisted on meeting with ‘That Brian Kinney’ face to face.” Vance started to bite his lip.

“When is he coming here?” Brian asked, mentally clocking his schedule for the week, hoping to find an empty slot to squeeze Leo Brown into.

“He’s not.” Vance paused, and once Brian caught his eye, he finished, “You are going to Chicago to meet with him. Your flight leaves in 4 hours.”

“Gardner!” Brian put his glass down. “This is completely unreasonable. I need more time than that to pack. And what about the Remson campaign? Couldn’t you convince Leo Brown to come here?”

“You’re staff has fumbled the ball with Brown Athletics and you want us to ask Leo Brown to come here in order to smooth it over?” Vance gave him a hard look, “Do whatever it takes to make sure your ass is on that plane at 1 pm.”

He moved to leave Brian’s office, “As for Remson, I gave the account to Derek. This way, you can focus on Brown Athletics.”

The minute his office door closed behind Vance’s retreating form, Brian downed the rest of his drink and threw the glass across the room, watching as it shattered upon hitting the wall. He gave out a “FUCK” for good measure, too. With a sigh, he gathered up his things once more and left his office. As he passed Cynthia’s desk, she gave him a sympathetic smile. This trip was putting a major wrench into his current life situation. Justin wasn’t in a good place to be left on his own for at least 2 days straight. He didn’t want to ask Debbie because he didn’t have the energy to deal with her questions.

As he drove back to his loft to quickly pack a bag and get back over to the airport, Brian called the person he’d never admit to trusting if asked point blank but would kill for, Emmett Honeycutt.

“Hey, Em. I need a favor.” Brian greeted his friend the moment the man picked up the line. “Can you meet me at my loft right now?”

“Aren’t you at work?” Emmett asked, then caught himself and gasped, “Did something happen to Justin?”

“No, and no. I just need you to come over, please.” Brian parked his jeep and got out.

“Sure. I will be there shortly. I gotta catch a cab.” Emmett responded.

“Whatever. Just get here. I’m on a time crunch.” Brian sighed before hanging up the phone.

Entering the apartment was weird. He usually wasn’t home during this hour on a Thursday. He could hear the shower running, which he took as a good sign. It meant that Justin had actually gotten out of bed. Maybe the kid would go to his mental health appointment this afternoon. Brian went to his closet and pulled out his overnight suitcase and started to put items into it. The more he packed, the angrier he got at Vance.

His boss knew that he was dealing with some stuff here at home. He knew that Brian didn’t want to travel right now. And instead of going in Brian’s stead, he had insisted the brunette uproot his established routine with no notice.

Just as the shower turned off, there was a knock at the door. Brian crossed the loft and slid open the door to let Emmett inside. The younger man looked at Brian’s harried demeanor and immediately switched over to his Auntie Em persona. Brian let Emmett fuss over him for a few minutes, knowing his longtime friend needed to feel like he was helping before he cut the man off.

“Honeycutt. Could you stop for a moment? I need you to focus.” Brian looked over his shoulder but couldn’t see Justin yet, which meant the blond was still in the bathroom.

“I have to travel to Chicago this afternoon. I won’t be gone more than 2 days, but if it runs longer than that, I’ll call to let you know.” Brian placed a hand on Emmett’s shoulder and gave him a serious look.

“One, don’t call me Honeycutt. And two, why do you need me to watch the loft?” Emmett’s look of confusion painted every feature on his face.

“He doesn’t. He’s asking you to babysit me.” Justin’s voice was suddenly right beside him, and Brian steeled his expression before turning to him.

“You were in the shower.” Brian shrugged as a way of explaining his lack of collaboration on this with Justin.

“And you didn’t want me to know you were asking someone to babysit me. I’m fine. You can go away without me freaking out.” Justin tried to argue with Brian, but the subtle insecurity in his eyes told Brian the opposite.

“Don’t think of it as babysitting.” Emmett stepped forward and wrapped Justin up in his arms despite the younger man being naked except for a towel. “Think of it as a sleepover.”

Brian pulled Justin away from Emmett and into the bedroom. Once they were alone, Brian turned Justin to face him and looked intensely into the young man’s eyes.

“Please. Just do this for me.” Brian’s voice was barely above a whisper. He knew by the look on Justin’s face that the blond understood how hard it was for Brian to admit this vulnerability. “I’d feel better knowing you aren’t alone.”

Justin still refused to agree. Instead, he glared at Brian and huffed before stepping completely away from the older man.

“I’m not made of glass! I won’t break the moment you aren’t around.”

“I know.” Brian sighed. Then, against his better judgment, he stepped into Justin’s space once more. This time, he wrapped the blond up into a tight hug. “I also know you still have nightmares that can be pretty intense. I don’t want you to be alone.”

When Justin continued to hesitate, Brian dropped the final hammer. “It’s either Emmett stays here with you, or I pack you up and ship you off to your mom’s.”

That got Justin’s attention. “Fine. Emmett can babysit me.”

Brian kissed Justin on the lips. “I’ll be back by Saturday, I promise.” Then he pulled away and finished up packing.

As he put his clothes into his bag, he could feel Justin’s eyes tracking him. There was a small comfort that settled into his chest, knowing that Justin didn’t want him to leave any more than he wanted to. The blond quietly got dressed and then sat down on the bed to watch Brian’s movements. This would be a test of how good Justin’s mental health actually was. The last time Brian left for a few days, Justin had stayed with Debbie and Vic. This time, Justin would essentially be on his own. Emmett wasn’t going to hover, and he had his own life to keep. His purpose was just to be sure Justin wasn’t alone at night.

Brian grabbed his packed bag and walked back toward the loft door. Justin followed him, and they both paused in the front area where Emmett was patiently waiting.

“Thanks, Em. You don’t have to change any of your plans, just be here at night. Okay?” Brian placed a hand on Emmett’s shoulder as the Southerner nodded in understanding.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got all eyes on Justin.” Emmett responded enthusiastically.

Justin stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Brian’s waist, preventing him from leaving. Brian dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around Justin’s back to complete the embrace. He closed his eyes and breathed in Justin’s scent. He whispered reassurance to the younger man.

“If I’m going to be later than Saturday, I will call.” He gazed into Justin’s eyes until the young man nodded.

“I’ll call every night to check in,” Brian concluded before he kissed Justin once more and stepped away from him.

There was a heaviness in his chest as he climbed into the car service he’d ordered to take him to the airport. A feeling in his gut told him he shouldn’t be leaving town. That Justin wasn’t in a good place for that. But, his logical ‘I need to keep my job’ side won out, crushing his anxiety down so low he could ignore it.

#queer as folk #brian kinney #justin taylor #brian x justin #fanfiction #alternate universe #asexual representation

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sleepy-achilles · 9 months ago

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FOD- Mafia Au- Nightcall

------------------------------------------------------------------

John frowns. "I thought.." "that he was your friend." John finishes. "Yeah well I won't make that mistake again" Leon scoffs. John couldn't blame him. They grew up together. The Samoan mafia and the valley mafia were close. Paul messed it up for both families and clearly vince got to them before taker could.

Leon leans against the wall, watching like a hawk. "What is it?" John asks quietly as he approaches his brother. "Coppas." Leon mutters. "So? You know dad's got some of them in his pocket" John points out. "There's a new one." Leon explains. John joins him. He looks at the man in question. Hunk of a guy, long black hair pulled back into a bun and bright blue eyes. "Reckon he knows?" John asks. "No. From the way dolph flashed his badge as if dad doesn't know him? I'd say no." Leon mutters pushing away from the window. John watches him. "Why has this got you so worked up?" John asks. Leon doesn't answer, he just moves back to the table were he was cleaning guns. "This is more than some new cop-" "I trusted roman and now his family is joining the hunt for our Pa?" Leon cuts in.

"I get it. Trust me. I thought dwyane-" "you never liked him." "And you never liked roman, but look at us now" John chuckles as the door opens. "Dad wants us." Is all cassie says before leaving. Leon sighs and allows John to drag him out.

Taker paces and shawn just sits watching him. "What was that about?" John asks as he walks in. "Apparently one of us was spotted at a scene of a crime" Taker states. "Not possible. We ain't committed any crimes this week" Leon shrugs. "You" Taker points at Leon. Leon pauses and looks at his father. "He didn't know about you. He didn't ask about you." Taker whispers. "Who?" Leon asks. "The rookie. He knew about all of us but you" Taker states. John glances at Leon. Maybe his brother had a reason to be worried about the newbie. "I want you tailing him. He's the one thing blocking me from what I need. Can you do that?" Taker asks moving closer. "Of course I ca-" "this isnt a joke Leon, can you do this?" Taker bites. "Yessir." Leon mutters. "Good. Get going. I need everything on him by the end of the week" Taker orders. John and cassie send Leon a look of pity as he walks out.

"Your being too hard on that boy." Shawn mutters. "Im-" "stressed. I know. But I'm fine and I will always be fine. Treating him like a soldier will not changed that. Infact, we've all watched films. It's the boys prepared for their mothers deaths that cause it." Shawn comments as he stands. Cassie and John protest. "They won't kill you." Taker mutters. "Taking me from my family is the samething." Is all Shawn replies before leaving. Taker sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "Someone give me something good! Please!" He groans throwing his hands up.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Leon leans against the bar, his eyes burning into the rookie cop as he laughs and talks to his coworkers. He knows they know who he is, so he has to be careful. He's been watching the guy for a few days now. He's bascially learned nothing fuckin important. The guys from the UK, he's a rookie cop and he's just moved to America.

He turns his gaze to Goldust. "A drink please goldie" he calls. "Sure thing kid" goldust hums walking off. Leon sighs and stretches. He's basically been working nonstop for the past few days. A drink is placed infront of him. He looks up to see goldust gone, and the drink coming from behind him. He turns his gaze to next to him to see the rookie.

"Was waiting for you to get a drink, Michaels." Drew hums. Leon tenses, his hand lowering under the bar. Drew grabs his wrist. "No need to draw attention to us." Drew murmurs. Leon growls. "What do you want?" Leon snaps. "Find anything interesting about me Michaels? When you were fiddling around my crib? Following me?" Drew asks quietly, that's when Leon feels something firm against his side. "You better be excited to see me Officer Mcintyre or else this is gonna get nasty" Leon warns. "Mmm no no baby, your gonna tell me exactly what I want to know and then we are going to work a deal" drew chuckles.

That's when it hits Leon. He ain't no cop.

Leon can't help but laugh. "You ain't a coppa. You working for the Samoans or the mcmahons?" Leon asks him quietly. "Neither. Like you know, I've only been here a year, I'm The Underground born and bred." Drew smirks. The Underground, the uks mafia world. They don't do mafia, they have separate gangs and crime overlords and even businessmen in something they call The Underground. It wasn't a physical place, it didn't have to be. They end up in high max prison and talk Underground there together.

"Whats a Underground boy doing in mafia territory?" Leon asks. "Here to assist the Valley in protecting the Queen." Leon's eyes widen and he turns to Drew. "Yeah?" "Yeah. A mutal friend reached out to me after the Harts reported the Samoan and Mcmahon families are teaming up to take the Queen. The Queen they sold off to begin with." Drew explains. The harts? The fuckin harts are trying to help them? "I think you need to come with me." Leon mutters. "Can do." Drew removes the gun from his side. Leon looks at him. "The Brits care about the Queen?" "God yes. He's the heartbreak kid. Roddy, will always care for him, so we will always care for him." Drew states. Leon chuckles. "You drive here?" Leon asks downing his drink. "Yeah" "good, hope you can keep up. Let's move."

------

"Anyone heard from Leon?" Taker asks. "Not yet" John states. "Goldust said he's left the bar 20 minutes ago" cassie calls out. "Alone?" "No." "Right." Taker mutters looking out the window. He watches as two cars turn up. "He better be right about whatever decision this is." Taker warns. "Take it easy. Hear him out." Shawn hums from where he's reading. "Ill try my best" Taker mutters watching the door now instead.

Kevin walks in first. "Leon's back with a friend." Kevin states. "Let em in" Taker nods. And boy the rage hits him first when Leon and the rookie walks in.

The kids sit up straight, ready to fight. Shawn lowers his book and just watches curious.

"What you doing bringing a cop in here? Have you lost your mind?" Taker snaps. "He isn't a cop." Leon states. "Roddy sent me." Drew states. Shawn sits up. "Piper?" "Piper, sir" drew nods. Taker looks at shawn. "Hes part of the underground. One of us." Shawn tells Taker. "I know what the underground is. What brings you out here?" Taker asks. "The Harts reported back to us that the Samoans and Mcmahons have joined up to try take you down and take the heartbreak kid back" drew explains. "Roddy, he wasn't happy about this but we have some issues brewing back home so he sent me, a face the Americans would recognise. Sheamus told me to find Leon and I knew by not mentioning you'd send him after me." Drew explains.

"Because Leon would bring you in." Shawn states. "Exactly." Drew nods. "Im here to help. If that means I have to earn your trust sir, I will." Drew states. Taker examines him as Leon moves forward. "You don't have to trust him. He betrays us, I know everything. We'll make him pay." Leon tells him quietly. "You trusting him?" Taker asks, keeping his eyes on Drew but his head turned towards Leon. "Man had the balls to press a gun to my side in goldies bar. Knew I had a weapon concealed. No cop pulling those stunts in a bar full of gang members and dirty cops." Leon explains quietly. "Tch" Taker straightens up.

"I hope you know, you even think about betraying us, your head is being sent back to roddy in a box. You understand that?" Taker asks. "Yessir" drew nods. "Good. Because I keep my word" Taker snaps. Leon steps back and bows his head down as shawn stands next to him. "Pulling a gun on my baby?" Shawn asks placing a hand on the back of Leon's neck. Drew nods. "He spoke to you. You use your words." John speaks up. "Yessir." Drew speaks. Shawn examines him.

He takes drew by surprise by slapping the back of Leon's head. "A guy this big got the sneak on you and you didn't even know? I taught you better than that" Shawn scolds. "Sorry sir. Won't happen again sir." "Damn right it won't. Not with the war going on." Shawn mutters smoothing Leon's hair down. He looks back at drew. "Congrats. If Taker said no I'd be changing his mind. Anyone of Roddys boys will always be accepted in my home." Shawn states moving towards him.

Drew bows his head down. "Thank you sir." "Now. Shall we start talking business. I've heard you've been here for a year." Shawn hums. Drew looks at him. "I have a lot of good information. And some bad about your dirty pigs." "Then let's get started."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------Notes

This is from a year ago (you can tell from the title alone), I was working on it and accidentally posted it so I concluded it.

But I love my mafia au and obviously being Welsh I know more about the underground than I do the mafia so adding my favourite Scottish boy was my way of bringing those two groups together.

#wwe #shawn michaels #the undertaker #wwf #hbtaker #undertaker x shawn michaels #shawn x undertaker #leon michaels #drew mcintyre #john cena #cassidy michaels #the family of destruction

4 notes · View notes

lostonehero · 2 years ago

Text

Traumatize each other back share bad memories

Heh jk jk.

William is standing over Henry. He's in lounge wear, which Henry doesn't think he has ever seen the man wear. Henry blinks, rubbing his eyes from his bed. "Will?"

"Henry." William speaks softly, for someone who is dead, he sure looks tired, and out of sorts.

"Are you alright? I didn't mean to tease you." Henry yawns pushing the covers down and getting out of bed. "Well, I didn't mean to hurt you." He corrects as he feels William's gaze on his back.

He pulls himself to his bathroom and turns the lights on, squinting at his reflection. He runs his hands through his beard. "Should I shave? I have been letting it get out of hand."

"I like your beard." William floats over to hover next to Henry.

"I mean, sure, I'll keep it." He yawns again. "Maybe just clean it up a bit." He mumbles, going through his morning routine. He does end up cleaning his beard up.

"Better?" Henry looks over to William, who is purposely looking away. "William?"

His old friend blinks and walks over. He doesn't seem to be paying attention.

"Do you want to try and take over? I can move the sharp things." Henry frowns. "You look exhausted, William."

"A living body... your body." William chews his lip. "Living needs and emotions are not something I have had to deal with in a long time."

"Did I hurt you?" Henry asks quietly, looking down at his hands.

"NO." To loud and too fast. William knew that as soon as he shouted. "I uh." He sighs frustration laced his tone. "I didn't. I had control of my emotions. I could control myself." He sighs, waving his hands. "I could control myself, Henry. Everything feels so raw so fresh. In death, everything is dull. You can pull apart any thought any feeling and mold it to your will, fix it to suit you, or amplify it." He runs his fingers through his hair. "Being alive, being alive is complicated. Nothing is laid out. It's not something you can build from. You have everything, then you keep getting more. You fix one thing, and them there is 100 more that appear out of nowhere."

Henry blinks. He never thought of it like that. "Wiliam, do you regret this?"

"Henry." William sounded hurt and confused. "Why would you ask me that?"

Henry turns to face his old friend, his partner, the man who has put him through heaven, and hell. "I don't regret reaching out. I just want to help you."

William's eyes dart around like he's conflicted, like he wants to say something, but he just can't speak it. "How's Micheal?" He's deflecting.

Henry sighs, pushing will get him nowhere. "He's alright. He's been watching the museum at night with Jeremy."

With that, the conversation fizzled out. William wasn't hiding, and Henry considered that a win.

....

"So you know, right? Your father is yaknow." Jeremy asks, looking over Micheal's shoulder at what he was drawing.

"Jeremy, my father's sexual habits are not one I wish to discuss... ever." Micheal sighs. "The kids know he has feelings for my uncle. Hell, I knew that growing up. You didn't talk about things like that."

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. How can I not be? I'm never not, Jeremy." Micheal throws his sketchbook down, frustrated. "How about I just not tell them, I can't."

"Mike...."

"It's fine, neither of them have to know." Micheal pulls at his hair. "I don't have to tell them."

Jeremy places a hand on Micheal's shoulder. "Mike, they won't be like her."

"How do you know that! It wasn't just a year, Jeremy, my childhood. She knew she found me after I got scooped. She caught me again when I returned to Hurricane. Ten years ago, she found me. How do I know that they won't just use me like she did." Micheal starts to pace. "They already question my age, Jeremy."

Jeremy gets up and pulls Micheal into a hug. "Breathe with me, ok?"

Micheal slowly relaxes, matching his breath with Jeremy.

"We both saw their reaction to the photos, I mean, your father literally jumped into Henry. I don't think that was out of joy."

Michael nods. "I know, I know, I just..."

"I'll be with you, no matter what happens." Jeremy smiles. "You can't get rid of me even when I'm old and gray."

"Who says I wanted to?" Micheal smiles softly.

.....

"Henry, two people are coming over." William's voice bounces around as he floats over to his partner. He's in more formal casual clothes, a loose button-up, and dress pants.

Henry adjusts his glasses as he finishes dicing the onion. "William, what host would I be if I didn't give them anything to bring home? You've seen your boy he has no meat on his bones."

"I don't think one meal will fix that, Henry." William tilts his head. "You Americans and your excess."

"It's called leftovers, William, and it's for future meals." Henry sighs. "Besides, Micheal seems really nervous to tell us something." He doesn't know when he stopped using me and started to use us. "These are comfort foods."

"They look like they will be in a coma after eating." William can't help but let a small smile slip. He did love Henry's cooking, even if he had it rarely when he was alive.

"Then it will be a good meal." Henry sighs. "William..."

His friend floats over to face him.

"Do you think Micheal is ok? He seems so scared to tell us. Do you think he might be sick?" Henry frowns thinking of the battle Margaret barely won.

"Sick? He doesn't look sick." William pauses. "I don't think my family has any underlying conditions that should have affected him."

"It doesn't have to be genetic." Henry sighs. "I should have gotten more sweets."

"It's enough food." William says in vain to comfort his partner, his friend from the uncertainties that Micheal could tell them.

....

Micheal stared at his food. It looked good and smelled even better. He just couldn't stomach anything. Jeremy was eating, and so was his uncle. He swallows the lump in his throat. "I have something to say."

Henry put his fork down and looked at Micheal. "You can tell me, well, us anything." Micheal watched as Henry's eyes glance at where he assumed his father was sitting at the table.

Jeremy held his hand from under the table.

Micheal closed his eyes and took a breath. "It would be better if I explained it as a story... more like a memory. Father, you know the ending part."

Henry darts another glance at William, who has moved next to Micheal.

.....

"It was 1981, and I was 11. It's not a specific date I can grab out of the calander. It was the summer, it was warm like most summer days, and my father kicked me out to go play."

"I was a kid itching to go outside anyhow, so it was normal, I got my bike and headed with my friends to the woods. Mom, well, she was busy with Lizzie and Evan. Father was at Fredbears he got home early that night."

Micheal bit his lip and continued after drinking a sip of his wine.

"The sun was up high when it happened. I don't know what was stuck in the tree, but I drew the short stick and had to get it. We were by a creek, and the tree was old, I didn't know it was rotted. "

"I don't remember falling, and I don't recall when the other kids left. I was covered in mud and branches. The sun was going down. I didn't know I had fallen asleep."

Micheal finishes his glass before he continues, and Jeremy takes the glass from him.

"It was hard to get up, I didn't know why it was so hard to get up. My legs were bent at an odd angle. I had to straighten them out. It made a weird noise I know I didn't like at the time. I was still stuck, and I knew if I didn't get home soon, I was going to be in trouble. I wasn't allowed out after dark."

"I felt something snap as I finally got up. It was just the branches, I could clean up when I got home."

"You uh father wasn't happy when I got home, I was covered in mud and branches. He told me to get the hose and come inside when I didn't track mud into the house."

"I did the best I could, and father said I was playing a really bad joke with the branches."

Micheal frowns, pushing his food around.

"I didn't even register. I was still covered in branches. The creek next to the dead tree, kids stuck a lot of sticks branches, whatever they could into the mud, dunno why they did it, but it was like a spike trap."

Micheal can feel the eyes on him as he continues. Jeremy refuses to refill his glass.

"The branches weren't on me. They were impaled into me, like I was some treat on a stick. They were so hard to pull out, and you, Father, were already in a bad mood, and I couldn't ask for his help to pull them out."

"I didn't realize at the time, but most of them were probably fatal, more so because I was 11 at the time. It rained that night, so nobody saw the blood on the branches, and I took my shirt off in the process of removing the branches. I didn't know it wasn't normal, I didn't know I was supposed to be dead after that."

.....

The dining room is silent after the story. Micheal looks like he was going to throw up. He opened his mouth and then closed it. "I, what I'm trying to say is that wasn't the only time. Before and after that, there was more, and I mean, look at me now." He throws his hands up. "I haven't aged a day pass 25 for fucks sake."

Jeremy places his hand on Micheal's shoulder. "Micheal breathe, you still have to breathe."

He grabs the knife by his plate and holds it tight enough that the blade draws blood in his hand. "I just, I just." He looks close to tears. "Don't let... I"

Henry didn't know if it was him or William controlling his body as he ran down the table and pulled the knife from Micheal's hand. He didn't realize he was hugging Micheal until he felt a wet spot grow on his shoulder from tears. He knew whatever was happening or whoever was in control, they just held onto the boy.

.....

Henry helps Micheal to the guest room. He tucks him in like he's a small child who just had a nightmare. He creeps outside seeing Jeremy already cleaning up the kitchen table.

"Don't worry yourself with that, you're a guest, let me." Henry tries to argue, and Jeremy holds up his hand.

"Stop, Mr. Emily, I know it's a lot to take in, trust me. I didn't believe him till I watched him get run over. It was a drunk driver, and they didn't even stop." He stops. "Anyhow, I believe him. You need to let things set in. What about your roommate?"

Henry stops, William, he vanished after comforting Micheal with him. "I think you're right." He steps into the living room and lays down on the couch. He just needed to talk to William about this, then they could move forward, and they could help Micheal.

Henry lays himself on the couch. To his surprise, when he closes his eyes, he opens them to his home. He's younger, and William's doors seem to be violently ripped open down the many halls. This wasn't his home. He had to remind himself that this was his mind, now shared mind.

He crept forward, and he peaked into an open door. William, well, a memory of William was inside. He was just kicked out of bed, and he looked tired. Henry watches him walk out of his bedroom and into... it was Micheal's room. He was an infant.

"Clara just checked on you." William slurred sleep heavily in his voice. He stared down into the crib, and there was red on Micheal's pillow and a wet spot on the blankets. "Didn't we just clip your nails?" His mind full of sleep from what Henry could tell he didn't realize that was blood on the pillow and the blanket was covered in spitup like someone tried to strangle the infant after eating.

"You should be asleep." William coos exhausted. Micheal is staring up at his father foot in his mouth like nothing was wrong. "Don't give me that look. Babies need sleep. Isn't that what you do?" Memory William was arguing with an infant. "Henry doesn't have to deal with this. Margaret isn't ready yet."

Henry watches his partner pick up Micheal. "Clara said you were asleep when she left. You are either a great actor, or she just wants me to handle you at night." The door shuts on the memory as if it was satisfied Henry saw enough.

Henry blinked as the door seemed to merge with the wall, he could still open it, but it was as if his friend wanted to tell him something, but now the barriers of words weren't there.

He pauses before he steps further. "William used to complain about baby's nails and how sharp they were, but only with Micheal." He mumbles as his mind catches up with him. "Clara was hurting Micheal, even as an infant." He bit his lip.

William didn't know, Clara wanted him to find the child's body and to be blamed for it. But Micheal, Micheal couldn't be killed. Henry moved forward as he felt chills creep up his spine. His friend must be connecting the dots as well. It would explain the frantic mess in this area with the doors.

The next door looked like one from a school. Memory William looked annoyed, sitting in a chair as what looked to be a kindergarten teacher was in front of him. "Why am I needed at the school?" He sounded angry and frustrated.

Henry knew what he was wearing, this was the day William was pulled out of a business meeting, and because of that, they lost a sponsorship. They had pulled all the connections they had to get it, and fredbears would have opened two years sooner if they got it.

"Your son Micheal has uh shown some troublesome behavior." The teacher bites her lip. "He uh has shown us some things. Is everything ok at home?"

William scowls at the question and raises his brow when he is given a few drawings.

"Micheal is expecting a new sibling soon, right?"

William nods, looking down at the pictures. A woman was holding something, and it didn't look pleasant. A boy with brown hair was behind a cage with the bad plate.

"Micheal has been drawing some concerning pictures. Is he getting enough to eat? Nobody is hurting him, right?"

Memory William rolls his eyes. "He has quite the imagination. He has been watching things he isn't supposed to, and I'll make sure to discuss this with him." The memory slams shut, startling Henry, who was trying to get a better look at the drawings.

Henry frowns, William was so upset that day that he probably didn't even see the drawing for what they were. He didn't either. He can recall Micheal giving him special drawings, but Charlie never liked them, so she would take them before he could look.

Henry rubs his temples. He knew Clara was in William's ear. He knew she never let William truly dwell or take time to care for Micheal, and when he did, she was quick to unravel any progress he had made. William never hated Micheal. He loved that boy. He never had a chance to show it.

Henry stepped forward. He didn't want to keep going.. these were William's memories, and they should be his. He was an outsider looking into his friends mind. The next door nearly tripped him as it swung open.

The memory smelled like fresh blood, Henry knew that smell from the slaughter houses he was introduced to growing up. He saw memory William in his work shed before he moved his designs and less dangerous projects inside his home office.

Henry recalled that this day, William kept complaining about the wild animals around his home. He didn't understand why since, at most, there would be a random deer that would pass through. Evan was just born, and Lizzie was around 1, so he knew neither of them were paying much attention to Micheal.

He watched the memory unfold as William entered the shed. The smell of blood made him step back. "Bloody fuck, oh FUCK." Memory William cursed and turned white as a ghost as he jumped back. He stepped in a big puddle of blood that looked like it's been there long enough that the edges were drying out, leaving a dark brownish redish stain in the wood.

Henry forgot how squeamish William used to be. To be fair, that was a lot of blood, too much blood. He watched as memory William dry heaved until he could go inside and call the police.

He knew memory William saw the kid handprint from the blood, because the memory skipped over to William lecturing Micheal on not going in his shed, and not to hurt animals. Henry could see how confused Micheal looked, getting that lecture.

Micheal kept asking about the animal, like he didn't know anything else was in there. Henry realized quickly, little Micheal got in, and he got hurt, bleeding out, then got up and walked away.

The memory shut with a click, and the smell of blood was gone. Henry knew William forgot to lock his shed sometime that week. Micheal must have snuck inside while he was watching his siblings.

Henry frowns, thinking to himself. Hindsight was a powerful thing. How could they know it was anything other than an animal, a human losing that much blood wouldn't get up from that, but a human hurting an animal to get that amount of blood made more sense. He didn't enjoy the amount of puzzle pieces that were coming together to paint a very different picture of the past. He knew William was realizing things just the same as him.

....

William felt the area shift, and he shuddered. Henry was asleep, which meant he was here in their shared mind area. He had the chance to take over if he truly wanted, but he needed to talk to Henry. He had to find him before his mess of a mind swept him away.

William grits his teeth as he stepped out of his office, his mind, and into their shared space. He let out a string of very British curses as he was hit with a door, and a familiar voice of his partner fills the silence.

William holding his nose blinks, a memory? Not his memory. That was Henry. He remembered that suit he wore. He only ever wore it once. He called it bad luck and wanted to burn it.

William blinks watching. There was Charlie pulling on Henry's leg. "Daddy, Daddy, Mikey is being weird."

Henry looked down at his daughter. "Please don't tell me you two are playing doctor again, remember Micheal is a boy he doesn't have the same parts as you."

"No," Charlie is whining. "Daddy, he keeps floating in the pool."

Henry sighs. "Charlie, I know Micheal likes weird pranks, but that isn't a good joke. I have to get to this meeting. Go get Micheal before your mom starts calling."

William froze as the memory ended. Floating in the pool, he did recall Henry telling him that Micheal somehow got soaked. He fell into his partner pool and drowned, long enough for Charlie to notice and think in her kid mind that Micheal was weird.

The door shut with a click, and William paused. Was he going to see something else? Was Henry going through his memories as well? He had to find Henry.

William was more cautious this time. He could feel Henry get closer to him. It was his mind after all, and he was a guest for however long it was permitted. He frowns, seeing the many doors, his doors, his memories that have spilled into Henry's weaving into his partner, but somehow, with a single flick of his wrist, it was gone.

It didn't help that they reappeared immediately after, but William could tell that his being was temporary. Henry might have accepted him inside, but they were separate no matter what. Like string, they were intertwined, but enough time and patience they can and will be separated.

William froze in front of the door that was cracked open. It was stone, and heavy looks like it's been dug up from a deep corner of Henry's mind. He knew why when he couldn't move.

The door creaked open with a scraping noise and a screeching wail from inside.

A familiar black suit, puffy red eyes, and anger he can see on his face. Henry looked defeated. He looked so small as he stared at the freshly covered grave.

"Uncle Henry, why did they bury Charlie? She doesn't like the dark, and when she wakes up, she isn't going to like it." William saw his son big blue eyes looking up at his friend on the worst day he caused.

Henry, for all he's worth, even in the memory, knelt down. "Micheal, Charlie isn't going to wake up." William never understood how he could stay so nice and calm even after everything. He was stating at something he lost and could never get back.

"But she has too she promised me we would learn how to skateboard together, and she was going to help me look for Lizzie."

William admired Henry in this moment. He watched the memory unfold, and he just dusted off Micheal's suit and fixed his hair. "Micheal, let's go find your father, ok?"

Micheal looked frustrated like he couldn't understand what was wrong. "Will you bury me in a box if I stayed asleep too long like Charlie?"

Memory Henry didn't snap he didn't scream or yell at the child, and he picked up Micheal. "Charlie isn't sleeping, Micheal."

Micheal he was barely 11 he didn't understand. "But what is she doing?"

Memory Henry doesn't respond, and the door slammed shut, shaking the area. William felt sick. Why did he do it? Why did he put Henry through that?

He took a deep breath and smoothed his hair back. Why was it longer? He bit his lip and stepped back. He didn't understand why he couldn't control his form. He couldn't just stop. He closed his eyes, and Micheal didn't understand. He was young, yes, but he didn't understand because he...

William swallowed the bile in his throat as he saw a door, his door, a memory, something he thought was just a nightmare. Clara told him it was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. She wasn't that bad before. He would have known, right?

The door vanished, and William had a sinking suspicion. If he wasn't going to face it, his friend would.

William wasn't going to let Henry see that if he had to not see it alone, at least. The area he was in suddenly changed like he was getting dragged deeper. He jumped and grabbed onto something as the ground shifted and changed.

The ground was still sinking, and he was losing his grip, something grabbed him as he was dragged down.

...

Henry shudders and shakes his head. "Keep it together. Just have to find William." He repeated out loud. It didn't matter that these were dragging up old memories and habits he rather keep buried. He knew he kept a lot buried, and he split himself up after Charlie died. He can keep things stable. He just needs to keep William out of the darker parts.

Another memory, it wasn't his. Henry could see how it looked twisted like William wasn't all there when it happened. The door reeked of alcohol and bleach. That couldn't be good, and Henry knew he couldn't go further without looking, a memory tripwire. He braced himself as he moved forward.

The memory opened, it wasn't much better than the door, everything had a film as it played out. A sickly sweet female voice played like a sick lullaby as Henry watched his friend stumble in a familiar amber bottle in his hand.

He knew where he was. This was Circus Baby's, but when? He got his answer when he listened to the woman, Clara. It was her sickly sweet tone. Her voice sounded far away and underwater.

"William, your toy destroyed my doll." A choking noise was heard and something snapping.

Henry could only strain his ears to hear what else was said. William, this memory wouldn't move he had his eyes glued to the bottle.

"Your toy couldn't even finish the job. You're pathetic. Make me a new doll later. I'm done with it."

Clara's voice seemed father away as he watched William take another long drink.

"Take your friend's doll away, I'll handle the mistake. We'll be even, everything will be better."

Henry forced himself back from the door as it shut and locked itself. He swallows. He never saw Clara, but he knew. The door sunk into the floor with a sickening pop.

Henry shook his head and took a step back. He's glad he's sober now. He turns his attention to a soft creek from the floor. He ignored the appearance of a hatch to a lower basement. He wasn't going there, with a blink it was gone and the floor was anew even shining. A crash and familiar British curses pulled Henry's attention from old memories.

William was bent at an odd angle like he fell from a semi great height. He looked disheveled, and if Henry didn't know better, he just woke up the way he was blinking, getting accustomed to the light.

Henry helps pull his friend up. Finally standing, Henry looked up at his taller friend. "William?"

"Henry, I."

"Don't apologize." Henry sighs. "Can I come to your office, I don't want to look at memories anymore. Mine or yours."

William nods mutely, his hand holding onto Henry's shirt.

.....

The office, kitchen, bedroom? Henry didn't know what to call this place anymore. William doesn't seem to have control over how it's appearing. Speaking of appearance, William seems out of place as well. He's dressed down in the most polite terms. In reality, the man looks like a mess.

William sighs, leaning against Henry, who is sitting up straight. "Henry, I'm sorry."

"William, we both saw each other memories. Some aren't as great as others, but we have to deal with the fact of what happened. We missed a lot." Henry seems more out of place in this mess than William, who seems to blend in. He was smiling a bit too much, and he looked too put together.

"I'm sorry I didn't keep a better eye on Micheal at the funeral."

"Which funeral?"

William covers his face and sighs. "I should have paid more attention, and why wasn't Micheal at the party?"

"Party?" Henry, look down at William, who has sunk his head into Henry's lap. His hair curled when it got long. He always liked that. Henry blinks hearing a door from outside the office but chooses to ignore it.

"Charlie's birthday." William sighs. "I know Micheal wanted to go, and he did go before... but..." William can feel Henry tense under his head.

"Clara picked him up early, I saw her leave with him. Micheal didn't want to leave." Henry frowns.

William shut his eyes. "I don't want to talk about her." He digs the heels of his hands into his closed eyes as he can feel doors appear around them.

Henry grabs William's hands. "Come on." He waits till William is stating up at him with that purple gaze. "I think that's enough memory lane tonight." He lingers and holds William's hands. "I did see something, well more so heard."

William stared up at his partner mouth dry, waiting for the inevitable hatred to spill from the man he left his heart to.

"Did... was?" Henry sighs. "Tomorrow." He places William's hands down. "Tomorrow is another day, and we can talk. Try not to get yourself so rattled, I've been sober 25 years, and I would rather not ruin that in one night, William."

William swore he saw something in his old friend, but just like that, it was gone. "Henry?"

"I think I'm going to clean up before the morning." He helps William sit up. "An organized mind is better for one to think."

William watches his old friend leave. He wanted him to stay. Even if it was just for the night, he wanted him to stay. He did still have those selfish habits. Clara hated them. She hated how clingy he was, how he wanted touch, how he just would linger on touches. Henry needed to stop feeding his habit.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #henry emily #william afton #immortal micheal afton #micheal afton #jeremy fritzgerald

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wheretheresaway-theresawilliam · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 23: Every Breath You Take

Word Count: 1381

TWs: Hospital mentions, injury mentions, religious references, murder, blood mentions, child death

⛤⛤⛤

One of the first things William would remember after a few days in the hospital was Norman’s weepy visage and a smattering of soft kisses on his sunken face. He had already begun to lose a considerable amount of weight within a week after the accident, his skin christened with burning wounds. Michael reluctantly came to visit him.

“As soon as you’re fit to take care of Elizabeth, I’m leaving.”

“Very well.”

“Why didn’t you gut that thing the second you knew hybrid suits were a bad idea?”

“Gut it? Reverse years of extensively time-consuming work, a project I put my blood, sweat, and tears into… gut it?” William looked at Michael incredulously. “I may as well set Freddy’s ablaze with an idea like that!” He broke off into a coughing fit, making Michael glance away from him.

“Don’t overexert yourself. Henry said it’s only by ‘the grace of God’ that you survived.” He threw up his hands for emphasis.

“And yet, I can’t believe that. It’s only because of his swiftness under pressure that I survived.”

“You think Henry thinks himself a God?”

William scoffed. “How can the son of such a brilliant man be so dense, no, he was probably possessed by His spirit.”

“Glad to see SpringBonnie didn’t crush your aptitude for sarcasm, dad.”

He didn’t wish him a swift recovery, leaving without a word. When he had gone, William absently touched the back of his head and gasped. He normally wore his hair long, tied back in a low ponytail. No one had told him that time had only been part of the reason the springlocks were so close to being set off… it seemed his hair had been tangled in the machine as well, after all of the activity he had participated in that afternoon. He’d never had it so short. He feared looking into a mirror when all was said and done.

After being released from the hospital, he still had an ungodly amount of time on his hands. He had been warned against strenuous activity as his body repaired itself, but that wouldn’t stop him from devising a new project to cover his ass, in case this incident spelt bad news for Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. Henry ran Freddy’s in his absence. Somehow, he knew Henry wouldn’t want to be involved with this new idea. He didn’t need him, anyhow.

“The children miss you,” Norman told him while visiting him at home.

“I’m sure they do. Tell them I’ll be back soon, once I’m off these damn pain meds.”

Norman nodded, examining William’s new drawings. “Henry’s made something new, too. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to be, but he’s been testing it with our customers. Some of the kids like it, some don’t.”

William took his jaw in his hand, turning Norman’s attention onto him. “Our customers?”

Norman blushed, embarrassed. “Did I say that?”

William chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You’re ambitious. I like it. Maybe you could be my business partner for… well, whatever this is.” He gestured to the work he had been doing over his recovery period.

“You’re not going to continue working with Henry?”

William sighed. “I think we’ve reached a fork in the road. After all, Michael has chosen him over his own father. I think that’s enough of a sign that we aren’t the friends we once were.”

He hated to admit it, but he was jealous. William had done everything his own father hadn’t. He fed and clothed Michael regularly, he encouraged his interests, he gave him his own room and his own toys, he never hit him. And yet, he still was everything he hated about himself. What had Henry ever done for Michael? Henry, awkward and quiet, but well-meaning and… brilliant. There was no shortage of brains between either of them, in ways, William thought Henry might’ve even been better than he was when it came to robotics. But Henry needed William. He’d never get anywhere socially without him.

“You still with me, William?” Norman’s voice cut through his brooding. Even with the interruption, an epiphany was forming for William.

“Little Charlotte’s birthday is coming up, isn’t it?”

“Oh, uhm, I believe so. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I don’t want my condition to ruin her party. In fact, I’m determined to make it her biggest yet. Tell Henry I’ll handle everything. All he needs to do is enjoy the day with his daughter.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Positively so.”

“That’s awfully nice of you.”

William flashed his shark-like grin. “Isn’t it?”

When he saw that there was rain in the forecast for the day of Charlie’s birthday party, he was ecstatic. Henry, though acutely aware of the tension between himself and William, appreciated the lengths his business partner was willing to go to make Charlie happy. He still had to exercise precaution, however.

“Charlie, would you come here a second?” Henry smiled warmly as his daughter approached.

“What is it, dad?” She looked so much like her mother.

“Let me see your wrist.” She held out her arm and Henry placed a green bracelet around it. “Now, I want you to have fun today, but I thought it’d also be a great opportunity to test those safety features on the Marionette I was telling you about. All I need from you is to wear this bracelet all while we’re here at Freddy’s, alright?”

Charlie nodded. “Okay, dad. You… don’t think somebody’s going to do something, do you?”

Henry couldn’t hide the worry and sadness in his hazel eyes. “No, of course not. It’s just a test.”

“Just a test…”

“Go play.”

Charlie ran off, the seriousness of the interaction disappearing within the blink of an eye. Henry watched her, sighing. As the storm raged outside, everyone was warm and full of excitement inside of Freddy’s. When William heard it would be time for cake and presents in an hour, he sought out a couple of older kids he wasn’t overly familiar with, but he knew they liked to pick on Charlie and her friends.

“You two, what are your names?”

The almost-teenage girls looked over.

“Grace.”

“Melony.”

He retrieved his wallet from his pocket. “I need one of you to tell Charlotte that her Uncle William has a present waiting for her outside. Once she leaves the building, don’t let her back in. I’ll escort her myself.”

“What’s in it for us?” Melony asked.

“Name your price.”

The girls glanced at each other. “Thirty bucks each. And free sodas all weekend.”

“You have my word,” William handed over the money, pure evil glinting in his eyes. He went out to his car. Now all he had to do was wait. Luckily, it wasn’t long before he saw the girls throw Charlie out into the elements. She begged them to let her back in, but they had closed the doors and were now holding them tightly shut. William went around the block once before slowly pulling up to the curb on Freddy’s west side. He rolled down the passenger-side window.

“Charlotte??”

Charlie turned quickly, sobbing. “Uncle William! Please open the door, these girls dragged me out here saying that you had a present for me, a-and I didn’t see you anywhere…”

He got out of the car, thumbing the handle of the knife in his pocket. “Oh, Charlotte, I’m so sorry… but not sorry enough.”

She sniffled before him. “What do you--??”

She briefly screamed as he wrapped a hand around her throat, easily choking her in his grasp. He squeezed tightly so that her screams would not be heard, dragging her into the nearby alley. His blade sunk into her chest and stomach as she thrashed against him, desperate to break free. To be heard. He didn’t care for preserving her soul. This was personal. Lightning flashed over the scene as Charlie’s body finally went limp, the heavy rain flushing her blood toward a nearby storm drain. He lodged her body behind the dumpster, blocking her in with garbage bags for good measure. When would she be found? Too late, of course. William calmly returned to his vehicle and sped off, cranking up the volume on his stereo. Every bond you break, every step you take, I’ll be watching you.

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf fic #fnaf oc #william afton #henry emily #charlie emily #charlotte emily #q'd #accursed heritage au

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the-brain-cells · 2 years ago

Text

Eli and Michael’s outing

Words: 2200

--------------------

"Can you two please keep it down? I'm trying to take notes of the local plants," she asked, looking up at them underneath the tree she was leaning against. Belle, her cat, meows, and curls up next to Flora for her afternoon nap.

"Sorry, Flora," apologized Eliyen, elbowing Michael "Let's go back inside."

Michael glared at Eliyen while moving to sit underneath the tree with Flora. "I'm staying here."

Eliyen opened her mouth to retort, but Flora cut her off. "I need to make some potions today, so why don't you two go to the lake," she suggested.

"That sounds like a great idea," said Michael.

"Fine, but I won't like it," said Eliyen heading back inside to grab her backpack. Michael followed her to put on his shoes.

Flora picked up her pencil again and started to draw a marigold flower, so she would have a reference in case someone else needed to collect it for her. Michael ran out of this house shouting something about going canoeing at the lake; he's been talking about going canoeing for the past few weeks since he saw those canoes at the last town. Eliyen agreed as long as Michael did her chores for the next two days.

"Bye, Flora," said Eliyen chasing after an energetic Michael, who waved to Flora as he ran past her.

"Bye, stay safe, and don't kill each other," Flora said, happy she would finally get her work done.

Walking down the nearby lake was difficult when she was trying to keep up with Michael. In the few weeks, she had known Michael he had never shown this much excitement before. The sound of leaves crunching beneath her shoes was probably going to be the most enjoyable thing about this outing; Birds chirped in the trees towering the path as if they were agreeing with her.

The booth to rent canoes was in the distance; the booth was made out of dark oak wood and had an old sign that read 'canoes available for renting' in faded letters. Michael was already talking to the cashier, who seemed to be in his sixties.

"How much is it to rent two canoes?" Michael asked, placing his wallet down on the booth. The cashier's name tag said, Cedric. There was nothing stating the prices on or near the strange booth.

"Eighty-eight dollars, young man," said Cedric, Michael sighed and pulled out his credit card to pay. Cedric seemed joyful that someone was finally stopping by his booth. "Not many people stop here these days."

"There was a time when this place was busy?"

"Yes, many years ago until towns built on the other lake became popular."

Michael nodded his head and followed Cedric to get the canoes; Eliyen followed him though staying far enough away to make it clear she doesn't want to talk to him. Cedric led them to a shack that contained a variety of water vessels, he handed them both a life vest and paddle.

"Young man, could you help me move these canoes to the lake?"

Michael nodded and did whatever Cedric directed him to do. They managed to get a couple of canoes down to the shore while Eliyen stayed a few feet behind them.

"Is that your sister behind us?"

"What, no! She's just a friend."

"It isn't nice to disown family members just because you're mad at them, young man." Cedric gave him a look of disappointment that made shame crawl around in his throat and stomach.

Eliyen appeared behind him, her footsteps being silent like usual towards him. "Are we free to go now or not?" she asked, her arms crossed over her chest the only part of her expression that gave away her annoyance.

"I still need to tell you, kids, the rules of this lake." Cedric smiled as if he'd been waiting for this moment. "We only have a couple of rules and those are: wear your life jackets at all times, put all of your belongings in one of the lockers we offer and return the equipment when you're finished with it."

"Yes sir," they both said in unison.

"Jinx!" Michael shouted in victory.

"Michael, we're not five years old," replied Eliyen, exhausted with Michael's antics and the day is not even halfway over for them.

Michael pouted, "You're no fun." He put on the life jacket and jumped in the canoe to beat Eliyen who was first in the lake.

Eliyen sighed and turned to Cedric, who was smiling at their interaction, a weird man for thinking that she and Michael were siblings. She shoved her canoes out into the water and jumped in.

"You kids be safe out there."

"Race you to the dock over there," shouted Michael.

"You're on."

The canoes glided through the water, Eliyen, and Michael both racing each other to the empty dock on the other side of this area of the lake. Eliyen was shocked about how well Michael seemed to be doing with this being his first time; he managed to reach the dock without any problems like she has with not being able to remember how to turn right or left.

Michael smiled at a family of geese residing near the dock, he stayed far enough away to not aggravate them. A stray goose swam to him and shoved its head into Michael's outstretched hand; the goose left after a few moments to swim back to their flock. The water was cool and wasn't as dirty as the lake he lived by was.

A few minutes passed by and Eliyen finally made it to the docks. "You cheated. There's no way that this is your first time," she said out of breath from the trip.

Michael shook his head. "Maybe this is the time to learn your rights from your lefts." Eliyen glared at him as if he were some fly buzzing around her room. He splashed some water at her with his paddle for fun and as a joke.

"Race you to the…" he glanced around for a suitable place to stay while he waited for Eliyen to catch up. All there was for defining features in the lake was the dock and the canoe shack, but there was a water depth pole in the water they could use. "Water depth pole over there."

Eliyen sighed in annoyance. "I just got here and you want to race again," she whined.

"What else are we supposed to do here?" he asked, using his question as a distraction to give him an advantage in the race.

"Hey, get back here," she shouted, paddling trying to desperately catch up, but failing and splashing water all over herself. Michael laughed at the sounds of Eliyen's failed attempts to catch up.

Michael paddles easily toward the water depth meter, his paddle got stuck in some algae beneath the water. He tugged to free his paddle, but to no avail each pull caused his canoe to sway dangerously close to flipping over. With one final pull, the paddle was free and Michael fell into the lake; his life jacket saved him from falling into the dark depths of the lake. Eliyen was still far enough away that if he played this carefully he could pull off his best prank yet. Unbuttoning his life jacket and taking a gulp of air he submerged himself into the water, waiting for Eliyen to make it to their finish line.

The splashing of water alerted him of Eliyen's presence. Swimming towards her canoe carefully to not give away his location he made his way over to the side of the canoe and flipped it over. A speak escaped Eliyen's mouth as she fell into the lake.

Eliyen swam out from underneath her canoe and allowed her life jacket to get her head above water. She coughed out some lake water that: tasted like mud, and her two braids were getting tangled and frizzy due to the wind and humidity in the air. "Michael, why would you do that?" She complained attempting to flip her canoe over but failing from having poor upper body strength.

"Here let me help you," Michael said, diving underneath the waves and flipping the canoe over with ease. With a laugh, he splashed Eliyen and she splashed him afterward; their little competition on who could splash the other with more water ended when a family of ducks swam near them.

"I won that game," Michael cheers.

"No, you didn't, I won that time," Eliyen retorts, climbing into her canoe. "Meet you back at the canoe shack." She paddles towards the worn-down shack leaving Michael to attempt to catch up. A difficult task is given how he still had to flip his canoe over.

Michael grumbles in annoyance as he starts to paddle through the murky blue water. A peach light filled the air as the sun lowered in the sky. Flora's worried sick at this point when they normally hang out with each other it's only for a few minutes, not hours, and especially not most of the day. His canoe crashed onshore, flicking some water onto his face. His clothes were sticking to his skin; maybe he should've worn a swimsuit out.

"I won, Michael."

"Yeah yeah, let's just put all the equipment back."

Dragging the canoes back was easy though miserable with their wet clothes. Any breeze sent a shiver down Eliyen's spine. "We should get something to eat on the way back," said Michael as his stomach loudly rumbles.

"I don't care as long as you're paying."

"Okay," Michael said, looking around the marketplace there wasn't any place that stood out to him; with having a meal to give Flora as an apology for being late. A booth with a neon sign above it was what he settled on to avoid irritating Eliyen with how long he was taking.

The booth wasn't busy with only a couple of people in line and the menu contained vegetarian meals instead of fast food like most places. The cashier was a young woman, whose name was Katherine, she seemed short from behind the booth and how avoids eye contact with him.

"What is your order, sir?"

"I would like two caesar salads and a vegetarian burger."

"Your total is thirty dollars and 25 cents."

Michael dug in his wallet for cash and placed it on the booth and placed five dollars into the glass jar that read tips on it in bright green letters.

"Thank you, sir," mumbled Katherine, shoving a brown paper bag into Michael's hands.

The walk back to the cottage was quiet; moonlight illuminates the path and frogs croaked in a nearby stream. "Thank you for dinner," said Eliyen. She was shivering a bit with how fast the temperature was dropping.

"No problem, besides I wanted to get Flora dinner as an apology."

"Sorry, about lashing out at you earlier."

"It was also my fault for provoking you."

Michael grins. "Last one to the cottage is a rotten egg." He starts running into the darkness and the rustling of food being thrown around in the bag is what follows him.

Eliyen manages to catch up to him quickly. "Looks like I'm winning this time." She falls over a tree root earning a laugh from Michael.

"Let me help you up," said Michael, extending a hand down to her; Eliyen grabs the hand and Michael pulls her up with ease, causing Eliyen to squeak in surprise.

Leaves crunch underneath their shoes as the cottage appears in the distance. He and Eliyen were shoving each other playfully as they continued their walk. A wooden path led them up to the front door where golden light was pooling from underneath the door. A gentle push opens the door; Flora was laying in the living room on the small loveseat that was covered with blankets most days.

Flora looks up from her sketchbook. "Oh, you're back," she notices the water droplets hitting the wooden floor and how Eliyen was shivering. "Why are you two wet?"

"I fell into the lake," said Michael, placing the brown bag onto the small coffee table and shooing Belle away when she gets close to the bag.

"And Michael flipped my canoe over, so I would also be wet like him."

"Okay," Flora said, "What is in the bag?"

"Dinner," replies Michael, handing Flora her salad and grabbing his burger. "The other salad is for you Eli."

"Okay, let me just grab some napkins first."

Flora's eyes widened, Michael just called Eliyen by her nickname, and Eliyen just ignored him. "When did you two become friends?"

"I pet a goose at the lake," shouted Michael, glossing over her question. His burger was already half-eaten while she barely ate any of her salad. Eliyen was eating her salad on the floor, so she didn't have to eat on the chairs on the other side of the room.

"You better not have Michael," said Eliyen.

"You weren't there when it happened because you were still trying to catch up to me."

"I still would've seen you petting the goose."

"No, you wouldn't because you were busy."

Flora quietly laughs, some things never change.

0 notes

abimess · 2 years ago

Text

Forbidden - Part 1

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Main Masterlist | Be notified of my stories

Summary: Meeting the perfect woman at a party has three complications: 1) you're married; 2) she's your student; 3) she’s too good to let go.

Word count: 7.648 || Pronouns: she/her

Warnings: (a lot of) smut [18+ only!], alcohol

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Series Masterlist

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

You got to the party a few minutes before the time you scheduled with Tony, and the place was already crowded. The loud music pounding on the speakers and the smell of alcohol and smoke did nothing to encourage you to enter that hell of a place. But you remember your brother’s convincing - or rather, annoying - arguments, and you sigh softly, putting your hands in the pants pockets of your red suit as you walk in.

“You need to have some fun, man, you look like you were hit by a car.” The man had said the other day, laughing softly, and you left out the fact that you’ve been quite unable to sleep or eat properly as you told him you were just busy with work. The argument was of no use, of course, since Tony insisted it was just another reason to celebrate, since you finally got the job you wanted for so long.

Xavier Institute is the most respected art college in the country and one of the best in the world. Working there has been a dream of yours since you graduated, and Tony, who has known you forever and kept track of all your efforts, insisted that you celebrate the realization of this dream together.

But you looked for the man everywhere and found no sign of him. You think about going home, but you've already gone through all the work of getting here and the effort of coming up with a costume. So you sigh softly, and make your way to the bar to get yourself something to drink, checking your phone to see if you got any text from your brother but finding no notifications at all.

As you wait for your drink by the bar, you try to fit as comfortably as possible into the cluster of people around the counter, and the pair beside you catches your attention. The first one that draws your attention is the girl. She wears a set of tight-fitting dark red clothes - pants and a long-sleeved blouse - with several black details and runes drawn on them, covered by a half-skirt of the same color. Her dark hair is covered with an orange dye made not to last long, and the wavy locks are held by some sort of crown that goes all the way down to her cheekbones, accentuating them. And she's absolutely breathtaking.

As for the other person, it’s a guy dressed up in a lazy attempt at a Michael Myers costume, with a faded gray jumpsuit, a generic white mask, and his hair thrown back with exorbitant amounts of gel. The boy holds a plastic knife in one hand, using the other to lean on the bar counter, approaching the girl as he talks on and on. It's not hard to deduce from her body language that he's bothering her, and her annoyed expression behind the tight smile lets you know he's been doing it for quite some time.

“I think everyone liked you better when you didn't talk.” Your comment takes not only the two strangers by surprise, but also yourself. Maybe what they say is true, maybe dressing up as something or someone you’re not really changes you - or rather, makes you feel comfortable enough to be who you really are. In any case, you keep your posture unfazed, playing with your glass between your fingers.

“And who are you anyway?” The Michael Myers dude asks, his tone as annoyed as his stance. “Just someone who can read the room.” You answer calmly as you shrug your shoulders, signing to the girl in between you and him as you say, “she's clearly bothered by your presence, buddy, so why don’t you just leave the girl alone?”

The man turns his mask-covered face to the girl then, but she just keeps her eyes forward, the small smirk at the corner of her lips being the only indication that she’s listening to the conversation. So he grumbles disgruntledly, stomping away like a spoiled child.

“Thanks for that.” Says the girl when the boy is away, turning her body slightly to face you. “Not needed but appreciated.” She adds with a raised eyebrow, to make sure you know she’s no damsel in distress, and you smile, nodding slightly. “Oh, trust me, he was bothering me too.” You say as you take a sip of your drink, watching her look at you in a mixture of curiosity and confusion as the citric drink slides down your throat. “I was trying to build up the courage to talk to you when he showed up.”

“Is that so?” The girl asks in an amused tone, her smirk growing as she leans her elbow on the counter, her hand supporting the side of her face as she eyes you intently. “Yeah…” You confirm, admiring the black nail polish on her neatly done fingernails. “It's been a while since I've done the whole flirting thing, especially with a woman as beautiful as you.” You risk it and the girl scrunches her nose before she says, humorously, “a bit rusty.”

“Very rusty.” You add with a grimace, making the girl giggle as you take a long sip of your drink. “I’m sorry.” You grumble as you shake your head, a bit embarrassed, and miss the way the stranger smiles sweetly at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” Her comment makes you look back at her again, and your eyes fall to her lips as she bites them in a smile.

“I’m Y/n.” You introduce yourself with an easy smile, offering her your hand. “Wanda.” She tells as she holds your hand with her smooth one, and you let out a hum of satisfaction at the beautiful name. “Oh, Princess Wanda, daughter of the founder of Kraków, Poland.”

“I didn’t know that.” Wanda says with an amused smile, taking a sip of her drink, holding her glass with her featherlike fingers that were previously on yours. “I know a thing or two.” You comment with a playful shrug, making her giggle softly. “It’s a pretty name. You’re from Poland?”

“Sokovia.” She corrects you, and you click your tongue, grimacing slightly at your own mistake. “Close.” You murmur behind the rim of your glass, and Wanda watches you intently, taking a sip of her drink. “Very smart for a devil.” She jokes about your costume - red suit and dark makeup -, and you let out a short laugh before shaking your head. “Oh no, I’m not a devil. Too overrated. I’m just a demon.”

“What kind of demon?” Wanda asks with a raised eyebrow, and you smirk as you shrug your shoulders. “I guess you’ll have to find out.” Your comment makes her smirk back at you, taking her glass to her red lips and finishing it in one sip, and you waste no time in offering, “can I buy you a drink, Wanda?”

“Only if you’ll dance with me after it.” Her answer is quick and provoking, and you smile with satisfaction as you agree. “Deal.”

And then you buy yourselves another round of drinks, and you keep the conversation going with such an ease that surprises the two of you. As the talk goes on, you realize Wanda is smart and funny and the more time you spend with her, the closer you want to get to her. She doesn’t seem bothered by your approaches in the slightest, smirking at all the excuses you find to touch her body.

When the new set of drinks is finished, she grabs you by the hand to take you to the dance floor, so energetically commenting on how she loves the song that’s currently playing, and you giggle softly as you intertwine your fingers with hers. Wanda doesn’t let go of your hand once you get there. In fact, she uses it to pull you even closer to her.

You’re not much of a dancer, honestly, but you let the alcohol in your system move your body to the rhythm of the music. Wanda is not shy about pressing her body on yours, fitting her ass on your front as she dances to the music. So you let your hands roam her body boldly, feeling your skin tingle with every sound you draw from her.

At some point she turns to you again, her face so close to yours that your noses are brushing, and her pupils are so dilated you can barely see the green of her eyes anymore. So you allow the adrenaline and lust to take over you, and you press your lips to hers firmly, your hands on the sides of her face to pull her close. Wanda whimpers in surprise, holding the front of your shirt tightly as she matches the kiss just as eagerly, pulling you closer.

With your hand on the back of her neck, you take the other to her waist, deepening the kiss and sliding your tongue against hers with intent. The girl moans helplessly against your mouth, feeling her knees buckle as you dominate her with such ease, her hands moving to your shoulders looking for some kind of support.

When air is needed, you move your kisses to her jaw and neck, sucking on her skin and smoothing it with your tongue. Wanda shudders with every touch, moving one of her hands to your hair, gripping it tightly to encourage you to keep going, her whimpers and sighs against your ear almost muffled by the loud music.

Pushing your body forwards, you move together until her back hits the nearest wall, your torso pressed to hers even closer now. Moving your face up again, your mouth meets hers again in a kiss so hungry that Wanda’s head spins, her entire body surrendering to you as she kisses you back.

With one hand firmly on her waist, you take the other to her thigh, pulling her leg up to your hip and setting your thigh in between hers. The girl whimpers against your lips at the sudden pressure, her hips jerking down to press her center even further to yours, one of her hands on your neck as the other holds your arm for stability.

Wanda keeps moving her hips against you, looking for some friction to help her ease the aching in her core. To assist her, you tense up the muscle in your thigh, sucking her tongue as she moans against your mouth. Her warmth against your leg grows to the point of almost burning your leg underneath your suit, and you would’ve taken her for yourself right then and there if at that moment someone hadn't bumped into you, reminding you that you were in the middle of a party surrounded by hundreds of people.

You slow down the kiss, both of your hands on her waist as you pull your leg away. Wanda whimpers slightly, displeased by the lack, so you smile softly as you move your face away from her. The smile falters, however, when you open your eyes again and see her lips puffy from kissing so hard, and her eyes locked on yours with such desire that it’s hard to remember why you ever stopped in the first place.

“My apartment is close by.” She comments as she moves closer, keeping her lips so close to yours that they brush as she speaks. “Lead the way.” You request as you move your hands down and squeeze her ass harshly, pressing her further against you. Wanda grunts at the delicious pain, taking your lower lip between her teeth and pulling it harshly, to the point of stinging. You hiss softly, but before you could kiss her again, she’s pulling away, and holding your hand to guide you out of the crowded party.

The air outside is as cold as it can be for that time of the night, but both your bodies are so warm you barely notice it. As Wanda asks for a lift on an app on her phone, you’re busy giving her a hard time, fitting your body behind hers and moving her hair to the side so you can have free access to her neck. The girl complains about not being able to focus, but you just keep kissing her skin underneath her ear, smiling as you hear her sigh.

With the ride on its way, Wanda teases you back by pushing her ass against your center, smirking as she feels you groaning against her skin. In response, you spin her by the waist, and kiss her lips with such intent that soon her legs are giving in again. You keep your mouth on hers until the car arrives, and the two of you get in the backseat with puffy lips and messy clothes.

Wanda can’t wait for the car to arrive to give wet kisses and nibbles on your neck, and you can’t wait for her to open the front door to press her body against yours, your teeth on her earlobe and your hands on her hips. But as soon as all that is done, her mouth is back on yours, devouring each other as if that was the last meal you would ever have.

You press her against the door as soon as you’re inside the apartment, your leg back in between hers as your mouth finds her once more. Wanda sighs against your lips, moving her fingers to the front of your body, unbuttoning your shirt before she’s even taken off your suit jacket. But as soon as she’s done, she pushes it all at once down your shoulders, and you let your garments slide to the ground as you move your kisses to her jaw.

With your hands back on hers, you pull her up by the thighs, her legs wrapping around your waist at the same instant. Moving your fingers down to the sides of her body, you loosen the claps that kept her skirt secured around her hips, letting the item fall to the ground as you hold her tight, walking with her around the apartment.

Wanda tries to guide you as best as she can with your mouth on her neck and her hands on your bare back. But the two of you manage to get to her bedroom - some bumping into furniture and stopping against walls later -, and you lay her on the mattress as soon as you get there.

Her pants are what you take off first, and Wanda moves her feet to get free of her boots before the piece of clothing reaches her ankles. On your knees facing her, your mouth water at the sight of her bare legs, a red underwear covering her center. You take your time kissing the soft skin of her inner thighs, hearing her sigh as you approach her core, her legs pulling apart instinctively.

But before you reach your destination, Wanda places her fingers under your chin, pulling you up so she can kiss you again. With your hands on her hips, you pull her closer, kissing her hungrily as your fingers venture underneath her blouse, pulling the fabric as your hands slide up her back.

The girl moves her face away from yours so she can get rid of the garment, tossing it somewhere on the floor along with the rest of the clothes. It's hard to take your eyes off her breasts covered by nothing but a red lace bra, and Wanda bites her lower lip in a smile as she watches your hungry gaze on her, moving her hands to the front of your pants.

Her fingers work on your belt with such ease that you only realize what she’s done when she throws the item on the bedroom floor, her hands returning to your pants to unbutton them. As you stand up again to get rid of your pants, Wanda lies down, leaning on her elbows, and the sight makes the knot below your belly grow tighter.

As you lie on top of her, your body fitting into hers perfectly, Wanda takes her hands to your back, her legs wrapping around your waist as her fingertips slide against your skin. You barely have time to kiss her again, because soon the woman is pulling your sports top up, and you have to move away to pass it through your head.

Not wanting to be left behind, you move your lips to her jaw, your fingers finding the clasp of her bra and undoing it with one move. Wanda’s hands let go of you as she takes the item off, and you’re unable to resist the temptation to pull away to look at her, gasping softly at the sight of her naked torso underneath you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

Wanda’s cheeks get rosier underneath her heavy makeup, smiling softly as she pulls you down again to slide her tongue on yours. Holding her by the waist, you fit your knee in between her legs, making her moan against your mouth, instantly starting to move her hips against you in search of some friction.

Deciding you’ve been too long without tasting more of her, you move your kisses down, leaving purple marks on every piece of skin you can find, her whimpers filling the room as you make each one of them. Wanda’s back arches against yours as your lips wrap around her nipple, licking and sucking until it stiffens inside your mouth.

Her hands move to your hair, gripping it and keeping you exactly where she wants you to be. Pressing your leg harder against her, you take your mouth to her other breast, giving it equal attention, smirking as you feel her wetness growing on your bare thigh. It doesn’t take long for her to grow impatient, pushing your head down, and it takes even less for you to obey, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her stomach.

When you reach her lower part, you hold her legs open for you, your eyes locked on hers as you lean down, watching her biting her lips harshly in anticipation as you kiss her center covered by the thin red fabric, her taste and scent making you roll your eyes as you grunt in satisfaction. The vibration makes Wanda whimper lowly, closing her eyes for a second, and you’re sure you’ve never seen a sight as beautiful as this one.

Wrapping your fingers around her panties, you pull them down until it slides down her legs, and make your way back up to her center as you place soft kisses along her inner thighs. Wanda’s breath hitches as you bite her skin tightly, and a loud moan rips out of her throat as you sink your face into her, your tongue savoring her pussy hungrily and collecting her juices.

As you suck her clit expertly, Wanda’s hand takes a hold of your hair, keeping your mouth exactly where she wants it to be, as the other one grips the sheets tightly. You slide your tongue along her folds, her sweet taste making your palate tingle, your core throbbing.

“Oh, yeah- fuck, don’t stop.” She lets out in between moans and whimpers, the grip on your head getting tighter as you sink your tongue inside her, your nose brushing against her clit making her see stars behind her closed eyelids. You had no intention of stopping anyways, eating her out as if your life depends on it, devouring her with everything you have.

You hold her thighs open for you as her body begins to shake, her orgasm approaching her as her moans become louder. You keep your movements steady, guiding her through her high as her back arches, her cum dripping down your chin as she thrusts her hips forwards.

Her hand makes a bit of pressure against your head, asking you to stop. But even then you don’t pull away, licking her clean, her juices running down your throat and making you feel complete. “Y/n, please-ah.” She hisses at the overstimulation, but you slide the tip of your tongue on her clit lightly.

It doesn't take long for Wanda to be ready for another, her hips jerking against you as her hand tightens on your hair again. This time, you wrap your tongue around her clit, thrusting two fingers inside her without warning, making her scream at the delicious intrusion, her walls pounding against your digits.

“Oh, fuck, so good. I’m gonna-” Her second orgasm gets to her much faster, and before the words even come out she’s squirming against your touch, her walls clenching around your fingers and her cum dripping onto the sheets. “P-please, it’s too much.” She begs in a whiny voice, her hand weekly trying to pull you away from her throbbing pussy.

But this time you obey, slowly making your way back up to her, your mouth kissing her body as she tries to regain the rhythm of her breathing. You kiss her as soon as you reach her, your tongue sliding sensually against hers and making her shudder, a low moan escaping her as she tastes herself in your mouth.

When air is needed, you move your lips to her neck. But they don’t stay there for long, because soon Wanda is placing her hands on your shoulders, and reversing your positions on the bed. “It’s my turn now.” She says huskily against your lips, and you smirk as she kisses you again, far from being opposed to it.

As she fits more comfortably on top of you, her core fits perfectly against your own, a moan leaving your lips as you grab her waist on reflex. Wanda smirks against your mouth, moving her hip experimentally and shuddering when you whimper for more, trapping your lip in between her teeth.

She pulls away from you just to remove your underwear - at this point completely soaked -, and soon is back to her original position, pressing her pussy against yours, ripping moans from the both of you in the process. Your whole body warms up as she starts to rub against you, your juices mixing with hers and providing the perfect friction.

You hold her hips to help her guide her movements, her legs growing shaky as she starts to move faster. The scene as a whole takes you to cloud nine, Wanda’s breasts bouncing as she rubs herself against you, her mouth half-open as she moans, her eyes ajar. You wanted to get up and take one of her rosy nipples inside your mouth, but her hands on your stomach keep you in place, her nails digging into your skin.

She reaches her high a second after you do, your moans filling the room as your cums mix together. When she can’t take it anymore, Wanda collapses against you, her face hidden in the crook of your neck as her arm wraps around your middle, her breathing completely out of rhythm. You run your hands down her back soothingly, and not long after she’s lifting her head again, and kissing you slowly enough to send a chill down your spine.

A smirk makes its way to her lips as your hand squeezes her ass, and you take no time in reversing your positions again, desperate to taste her once more.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

You wake up to an empty bed, but the frown only remains on your face until you find a folded towel on the end of the mattress, along with a set of clothes and a note that says “meet me in the kitchen when you’re done xoxo.” With a groan, you stand up, but instead of the clothes Wanda saved for you, you collect your own - now placed in a pile on the chair in front of Wanda's desk.

Before going to the bathroom, a set of picture frames catches your attention. In one of them, you see Wanda and a boy about her age, his hair platinum, sitting on what seems to be a long grassy field. On another, you see her with the same boy, accompanied by an older man, the three of them sitting on a brown couch. The last picture of the three makes you laugh through your nose as you see Wanda and two other girls making funny faces for the photo at what looks like a New Year's Eve party.

You imagine those are her family and friends, and you can’t help but smile at her in all of them, enamored with her beauty in absolutely all those settings. But you shake your head to keep the thoughts and the sleep away, holding your clothes against your body as you move to her bathroom.

Some minutes later, you’re back in your suit and entering the kitchen, smiling at Wanda’s figure with her back at you, stirring something on the stove, her body covered by only a long sweater. Her damp hair is now in its natural brown, like the ones you'd seen in the photographs in her room. And as all the other times you’ve seen her until now, breathtaking.

“Morning.” You say as you wrap your hands around her waist, kissing her shoulder. “Morning.” Wanda says back with an easy smile that fades away when she spins on her heels to face you. “You’re not wearing the clothes I sorted for you.” Her eyes go down on your figure for half a second, figuring you're already leaving, and you have to hold back a smile at her disappointed frown.

“I can’t stay for long, I'm waiting for the moving truck to deliver this morning.” You explain, apologetically, and Wanda nods slowly in understanding. “Will you have breakfast with me at least?” The brunette asks with puppy dog eyes, and you’d have been unable to say no to her anyways. “Of course.” The grin she offers you is blinding before she leans forward, and you let out a giggle as you kiss her back.

You help her set the table and finish the food she was making before you eat together, the entire process surrounded by light conversation or just some comfortable silence. You exchange smiles every time your eyes meet, and Wanda tries to stop herself from creating so many expectations with this stranger she met at a party.

She knows she shouldn’t. This was most likely just a one-night stand, as it was supposed to be. But there was something about you that she wanted to know more of, to keep closer. Anyhow, she’d obviously not tell you any of that, keeping on with the casual conversation until the breakfast ends.

“You don’t have to-” She starts when she sees you washing the dishes, but you pull a dismissive face. “It’s okay, I still have some time.” You assure her with your hands already covered in soap, smiling when she still looks uncertain, “I insist.” She smiles in gratitude, kissing your lips softly before moving around the kitchen to put everything back in its place.

“Thank you.” The brunette says when everything is done, wrapping her arms around your shoulders after you’ve wiped your hands on the dishcloth. “No problem.” You assure before kissing her softly, feeling her smile against your lips. The kiss soon grows deeper, your tongue meeting hers as you press her against the kitchen counter.

“I thought you had to leave.” Wanda teases as you move your mouth to her neck, biting her lip tightly when you bite her sensitive skin over the mark you’ve made last night. “I do but you’re so fucking irresistible.” You groan against her skin, feeling her neck vibrating as she chuckles.

Before the brunette can even process, you’re already on your knees, sinking your face in between her legs in kissing her center covered by a new piece of underwear. “Y/n, what-” Her question is cut short by a moan as you move the fabric to the side, sliding your tongue along her folds, already soaked from you kissing her like that a moment ago.

“Oh, fuck.” Wanda’s hands find the marble for support as you eat her out, her knuckles getting whiter as her legs grow weaker. But you hold her up, a leg over your shoulder, as you suck her clit, tasting her on your tongue. Soon one of the brunette’s hands leaves the counter to grip your hair tightly, making you groan against her pussy.

The vibration is enough to send her over the edge, spilling her juices on your mouth as her moans escape her throat, the sounds muffled to you by her thighs squeezing your head. When she’s sure she can’t take it anymore, Wanda pushes your head lightly, her stomach twisting with desire as she watches you come back to your feet, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb, a smirk on your lips.

“Let me return the favor.” She requests with her lips brushing against yours, her hands on the collar of your blouse. “Hmm maybe some other time, I really gotta go now.” You say with your hands on her waist, but Wanda is already moving her lips down to your jaw, taking your earlobe in between her teeth and making you shudder. “Fuck, you’re not helping.”

“I have no intention of helping.” She chuckles mischievously against your neck, and you have to muster all your strength to pull away. “I have to go.” You insist, and the only thing bringing comfort to Wanda now is that you sound as disappointed about it as she is. So she nods in understanding, and offers to walk you to the door.

“I left my phone number on your nightstand.” You let her know when you’re already on the other side of the door, holding back a smile when you see her sketching an eager one. “I’ll call you.” The brunette promises as she leans against the open door, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling this time. “I’ll be waiting.”

Wanda lets out a giggle at your response, so cute that you can’t stop yourself from moving closer to her again and kissing her hard. The brunette laughs softly against your mouth as she matches the kiss, but before she’d like, you’re pulling away again and saying goodbye for good this time. And Wanda watches you walk away until you disappear into the elevator.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

"And this is your office." Says the redhead as she walks you into the hugest room you've ever worked in, and you try not to feel so small there. "You'll get used to the space, honestly, some of us even manage to fill them with crap." She jokes as she sees your wide-eyed expression, and you let out a laugh as you nod in understanding.

After the weekend of the party, it was all about going back to the real world. Moving to Westview was exhausting and with every little thing that went wrong, you found yourself thinking maybe you should've left part of your belongings in New York. Your entire family still lives there anyways, it's not like you wouldn't have someone to keep an eye on your stuff for you. Besides, settling into a new job was always a challenge and the amount of bureaucracy got your head pounding every time.

Luckily for you, Tony - who had come to spend a few days in Westview to help you out with your moving - was by your side to give you support and the company you needed, even if he kept teasing you about your secret one-night stand.

"We don't have to talk about it, Tony, please, just let this go." You grumbled when the arguments about him abandoning you - because he was too busy sleeping with the cop that had stopped him that night - didn't work anymore, and your brother chuckled to himself before helping you empty yet another box.

And speaking of the brunette, it's been four days and Wanda hasn't called or texted. It's fine, you think to yourself. Maybe it's better that way. You already had too many things going on in your life, you could run away from trouble. At least that's what you repeated in your head every time you checked your phone and saw nothing.

"It's great. Thank you, Professor Romanoff." You say with a polite smile towards the redhead, who offers you a playful one in return. "Oh, please, there's no need for formalities, Natalia is just fine." She comments, waving her hands, and you let out a somewhat embarrassed giggle before telling her she could do the same.

After that, you and the Russian Professor chat some more, and she only leaves many minutes later - not before assuring you a few times that you could come to her if you needed anything, which made you smile with slightly rosy cheeks. And, finally alone, you busy yourself putting your new office together.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

Wanda saved your number on her phone the very moment she found the paper laying on her nightstand - smiling a silly smile as she saw the signature “from your daemon” under it.

But she only has the guts to text you on Friday, after some annoying insistence from her best friends, Kate and Yelena. She apologized for taking so long, but didn't explain the reason for the delay was that she was panicking too hard when she asked if you'd like to do something on Saturday - because Yelena had been too energetic on how she should ask you out at once.

And although you said you were happy she texted, you apologized for not being able to see her that Saturday, since you were still busy with the moving and adjusting to your new job. Still, you asked her out for the other weekend, and even though the brunette was upset she wouldn't get to see you as soon as she expected, she agreed to the date with a smiling emoji.

But it's still Tuesday and Wanda would have to wait another four days to see you again. At least classes were distracting enough, she thought to herself as she walked through the university corridors, listening to a story Yelena was telling about one of the times she went to visit her parents on their farm that was making Kate’s eyes water from laughing so hard.

"Oh my god, she's here." The brunette cuts her friend off as soon as they walk into the classroom, her eyes widening as she sees the one she least expected to see, you. With your face in profile to the door, checking some papers on your desk and wearing a blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up and beige pants, with prescription glasses on your face that Wanda didn't even know you needed. And you looked even more charming than you did that night at the party.

"Where?" Kate and Yelena ask at the same time - at this point they don’t even have to ask since all Wanda talks about these days is you-, their eyes running with curiosity among the few students that were already in the classroom. But Wanda just tapped Kate’s arm - who was closest to her -, unable to say or do anything other than that. Not long after, the two girls follow the glazed eyes of their friend towards the desk in the front of the room. "The Professor?!"

"Shut up!" The brunette finally moves, holding Yelena’s arm for her to speak quieter, and the blonde makes an apologetic grimace before taking her eyes to you again. "My God, how old is she?" Kate asks with amusement and furrowed brows, and Wanda crosses her arms in front of her body, moving her feet so she’s with her back turned to you. "She's not much older than us." The brunette answers, but noticing her friends still have their eyes on you, she sighs impatiently. “And stop staring!”

"Go talk to her." Yelena suggests when she looks back at Wanda - not before exchanging an amused glance with Kate. "Are you kidding me? I can't just go there and talk to her!" The brunette argues matter-of-factly, but the blonde has an equally disbelieving expression as she answers. "Are you kidding me? A few nights ago she had her mouth on yo-"

"Yelena!" Wanda talks over her friend with cheeks on fire, looking around to see if any of her classmates - or worse, you - had heard the conversation. But everyone seems busy enough with their own interaction and activities to pay attention to what she and her friends were talking about, so the brunette sighs tiredly, ignoring the other two girls’ laughter to say, "Come on, let's sit down."

Wanda can’t help but glance at you as they look for a place to sit, her heart stopping for a second every time you make the tiniest movement and she thinks your eyes will finally meet hers. But they never do, and the brunette is left to wonder what you would do if you spotted her in the middle of the room. Would you be shocked to see her as much as she was? Would you care? Would you wave at her? Ignore her completely?

"What's her name again?" Kate asks when they’re all finally seated - not on the first rolls but also not so far in the back -, waking Wanda up from her thoughts. “Did you really not memorize it after Wanda talked about her a thousand times?” Yelena hits back with humor, but the brunette just ignores her friends with her cheeks slightly warm, busing herself with taking her stuff out of her bag. "Y/n."

"Last name?" Kate asks again, typing something on her phone. And this time Wanda freezes for a heartbeat of a second, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "I don't know."

"Dude, you took her to our place and you don't even know her full name?" Yelena asks with raised eyebrows, earning from Wanda an embarrassed shrug of her shoulders. "Brave." The brunette jokes with a snort and Kate is not late to retort, "I think the word you're looking for is horny."

"Good afternoon, class." You’re speaking before Wanda can tell her friends to fuck off, and the brunette’s attention is immediately completely on the front of the class. "I'm Y/n Stark and I'll be your professor on the History of Arts." You introduce yourself as your eyes scan the room, trying to memorize the students' faces, until they finally rest on her.

Wanda holds her breath as your face changes to something she interprets as astonishment. But soon there’s a small, discreet smile on your lips that fades away as you go back to looking around. A smile that belongs only to her, she thinks, and the redness goes back to her cheeks as she looks down, missing the way Yelena and Kate exchanged knowing glances from their seats.

"I know that Professor Frigga had already structured the semester with you before her retirement, but I will show you some changes that I intend to make. But, before we get there, any questions?" You go back to talking, looking around for any raised hands. Wanda has, indeed, a lot of questions. Not a single one she can make right now, however, so she keeps her arm down, her eyes locked on your figure.

"Uh, Wands…" Kate calls out lowly enough for only her to be able to hear, her eyes on her phone. The brunette turns her face to her friend discreetly, frowning as she sees the weird expression she makes. "Professor Stark?" A boy she doesn’t know speaks before she can, and her eyes are drawn back to the front of the room with curiosity.

"Yes, Mr…?" You ask, dragging out your last word for the boy to complete. "Mr. Morales." The boy says, lowering his hand as you nod your head in understanding, encouraging him to continue. "Is it true you're married to Carol Danvers?" The question triggers several murmurs around the classroom - now nearly full -, but Wanda can barely listen to anything, her face going pale as she stares at you.

You’re married? No, you can’t be married. That’s impossible. Not after that night at that party. Not after all the things you’ve done together-

"Uh, yes.” Your voice speaks louder than the thoughts inside her head, and Wanda can’t help but let out a disbelieving gasp. Your eyes meet hers for half a second as you speak, but the brunette turns her face away immediately, locking them on the empty page of her opened notebook. “Yes, it's true, Mr. Morales, but I think it's best if we let personal matters aside during our classes, yes?" You end the discussion - which doesn’t help much with the muttering and whispering -, before turning to the board. "So, as I was saying…"

You go on with the class, but Wanda is unable to pay attention to a single thing, her head and heart competing to see who races faster. How could you do that to her? You never said a thing, you weren’t even wearing a ring. Did you have a ring? She’s sure you weren’t wearing any. But you run your fingers through your hair now, and the golden piece shines under the strong lights of the room, making her stomach turn. She still couldn’t believe it.

"Who's Carol Danvers?" The question escapes her mouth before she can hold it back, shifting her hurt gaze between her friends. "How the hell you don't know who Carol Danvers is?" Yelena speaks first, her eyebrows raised in disbelief, but the brunette ignores her completely as she watches Kate googling something on her phone. "She's the Captain of the U.S. Football League."

"The best player of the season." Yelena adds with excitement that soon turns to embarrassment as Wanda glares at her. "Sorry." The blonde mumbles with her arms crossed, but the brunette says no more, leaning to her side when Kate shows her her phone. There, Wanda can see a few pictures of the two of you, both at events and in paparazzi photos. And you look happy, smiling and holding hands, sharing hugs in some of them. When a specific picture of the two of you kissing, the brunette looks away, letting out a long sigh as her eyes return to you.

She wasn’t sure how exactly she was feeling about it all. But as the minutes dragged by, her hurt was being replaced by anger, until the point her jaw was locked so tightly her teeth could crack at any moment now, her arms tightly crossed and, if looks could kill, you’d be lying dead on the floor. And she’s sure you noticed, because you only dared to look at her a few times, soon looking away until your eyes never found hers again.

When the class came to an end, Wanda was the first to stand up, striding to your desk with her hand holding the strap of her bag. Yelena and Kate exchange worried - and somewhat curious - glances, but they decide to give their friend the moment she needs with you, so they walk to the door along with the rest of the students, glancing at their friend as she makes her way to you.

“Professor Stark, can I speak to you for a second?” Wanda’s voice sounds by your side as you put your belongings back in your messenger bag, and your stomach sinks for a moment, your heart beating faster. But you don’t look up at her, taking your eyes to your wristwatch instead. “I’m sorry, Miss Maximoff, but I have another class in ten minutes and-”

“Y/n.” The brunette interrupts you through gritted teeth, her eyes burning the side of your face. So you sigh softly in surrender, finally looking up at her. She looks as beautiful as she does in your memory, the marks on her neck that she’s failed to cover up completely making your insides turn conflictingly. But she looks so hurt you can’t stare at her for too long, averting your gaze to the door before bringing it back to her again.

“Yes?” You ask in a low voice, the silence growing between you as the students leave the room and Wanda tries to figure out what to say next. “You lied to me.” That’s what she decides on, her eyes watering with hurt. “Technically, I never said I wasn’t married.” You say in a failed attempt to lighten the mood, earning yourself a disbelieving laugh.

“You used me.” She stresses the word, hurt dripping down her tone as she sniffles back her angry tears. “I trusted you. I thought…” Her voice dies down as she lets out another laugh completely devoid of humor, looking away from you. “You thought what?” You ask with a bit of expectation that shouldn’t even be there in the first place, your brows furrowed.

“Never mind, it’s stupid.” That’s her answer as she turns her back on you, making her way to the door. “Wanda, wait.” You call out as you pick up the pace, placing yourself in front of her to stop her from leaving. And although she does, she looks down at the ground, and you feel your mouth going dry, your heart pounding in your ears. “It doesn’t have to be a one-time thing.”

“What, you wanna fuck me when you’re too bored of fucking your wife?” The brunette hits back angrily, taking a defiant step toward you. You take a step back, shaking your head eagerly. “It’s not-”

“Fuck you, professor.” Wanda interrupts you with her teeth gritted and her eyes watery. She sidesteps you, her shoulder slamming into yours roughly. And this time, when she makes her way to the door, you don’t stop her.

Part 2

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff au

621 notes · View notes

33max · 2 years ago

Note

For your turkey dinosaurs world, could you write if max has a bad or weird dream and wakes up little and Daniel helps him calm down? 🤍

Hello, I loved your prompt so much that it jumped my prompt queue! I hope you like it ♥️

cw nsap, nightmare, 733 words

Something shakes him awake. Not something, someone. There’s a hand on his bicep and it is shaking his arm underneath the sheets, the movement causing an uncomfortable draft on Daniel’s chest. He’d been in such a deep sleep and it is disorienting. It takes him a moment to realise he’s in their bed and not a hotel room, they’re actually in their own apartment for once.

“What?” Daniel grunts, barely opening his eyes. It must be like three in the morning and he’s so tired.

Max lets out a little whimper and that gets Daniel’s eyes fluttering open, trying to work out what is going on through the darkness.

“Max?” Daniel asks, pacing a hand over Max’s where it’s still holding onto Daniel’s bicep. “What’s up?”

Another whimper. Daniel blinks a couple of times, and then he understands, Max is little.

He pulls Max onto him, allowing Max to lay on top of him. Max rests his head on Daniel’s chest, and Daniel takes the opportunity to run his fingers through Max’s short and slightly sweaty hair. His fingers comfortingly scratch at Max’s scalp, stroking him like Max has shown him how to stoke Jimmy and Sassy.

“Baby, what’s going on?” Daniel asks, unsure why Max has regressed unexpectedly in the middle of the night. There wasn’t even any warning this was coming.

“Bad dream,” Max whispers as if he’s worried about someone else hearing him and jumping out of the shadows of their bedroom.

“You’re okay,” Daniel comforts, fumbling for his phone with his free hand and using it to turn their light on, the dimmest setting, but enough to show Max that their room is safe. There is nobody there. His lock screen reads 3:36 am.

They lay like that for a while, Max listening to the steady thump of Daniel’s heart. His head rises and falls with every breath Daniel takes. It’s calming. His binkie would be calming too… he wants it.

“Binkie?” Max asks Daniel shyly.

Daniel digs around in the draw next to their bed, finding everything but Max’s binkie. That’s not ideal.

“I don’t think it’s in here,” Daniel says softly, “I can go and get you one though.”

There’s a new pack in the kitchen draw, Daniel knows this. He put it there a few weeks ago. It’s a safari pack, he bought it because of the cute little lion one but there’s also an elephant, a tiger and a bear included.

“No!” Max almost shouts in a panic, “No, don’t go!!!”

Daniels rubs his back and assures him he won’t leave unless Max wants him to. That Max won’t have to be on his own until he’s ready to be. It must have been an awful dream to have this effect, forcing him into a drop and making him a clingy little.

“Binkie,” Max whines at him again, Daniel doesn’t really have too many options here. He wants Max to have his comfort item, to be able to self-soothe, but he doesn’t want to scare him further by leaving him on his own right now.

He sighs. Michael won’t be thrilled about this, but needs must. He wiggles out from under Max, stands, and then lifts the younger man into his arms. He’s heavy, but Daniel’s got this. Max hides his face in Daniel’s neck while they walk to the kitchen, scared of the darkness in the apartment but safe in Daddy’s arms.

Daniel places Max on the kitchen counter while he opens the new pack of binkies and he then hands the lion one to Max.

“No,” Max tells him, “Want the bear one.”

“You want the bear one?” Daniel is shocked! Max’s favourite animal has always been a lion, but bears are cute and Max will look adorable with that one.

“Mr Roar will be jealous of the lion,” Max explains with a frown, taking the bear binkie from Daniel and popping it in his mouth.

Daniel laughs, he didn’t know Max’s beloved lion plushie had a jealous side. That’s new.

“I’m not tired anymore,” Max smiles, “Can we play with my dinos?”

Daniel sighs, he’s so tired. His eyes feel like they’re about to fall out of his face. He’s only had 3 hours of sleep.

“Okay,” He says, smiling at Max. If he wears Max out he’ll need a nap soon anyway, and Daniel will absolutely be joining him for that.

#answered #anonymous #writing #turkey dinosaurs au

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prouvaireafterdark · 3 years ago

Text

Pieces Mended - 3x08 Coda

Me? Writing a 3x08 coda set at Sanders’ Auto? It’s more likely than you think.

Also on AO3!

***

The sun is just beginning to set below the horizon when Michael hears a car pull into Sanders’ lot. He’s not expecting another customer this late in the day, so he edges himself out from under the sedan he’s working on to see who it is.

A smile tugs at his lips the moment he recognizes the SUV parked a few yards away. He reaches for the rag hanging out of his pocket to wipe the grease from his fingers as Alex exits the car and starts making his way over to him. There’s something dangling from his hand, but Michael is too distracted by the way Alex’s sweater is clinging to his chest beneath his open leather jacket to clock what it is just yet.

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” Michael says, licking his lips as he looks Alex up and down.

Alex looks good, the beanie from yesterday gone so the wind has tousled his hair a little and made his cheeks an attractive shade of pink. Between that and the frankly indecently tight sweater he’s wearing, Michael is finding it impossible not to let his mind wander. He can’t help but lean back on his hands to elongate his torso, his legs splayed open suggestively on either side of the creeper he’s sitting on. It’s about as subtle as a punch to the face, but Michael’s done playing coy with Alex, especially after his brain has been playing repeats of the hot, tender kisses they shared last night at the Pony all goddamn day.

There’s an amused quirk to Alex’s lips as he looks him over. “Do you usually sit like that when a customer comes to see you or are you trying to seduce me right now?”

“Depends,” Michael says, meeting his gaze without an ounce of self-consciousness. “Is it working?”

Alex just laughs and shakes his head in disbelief. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?” Michael asks, sitting up straighter.

Alex tosses him the thing he’s holding. Michael catches it one-handed.

“What’s this?” Michael asks, turning it over in his hands. Now that he can see it up close, it looks to be an unmarked keycard on a plain black lanyard.

“Your visitor’s badge,” Alex says, and with the smile he’s giving him, Michael doesn’t need to ask what for.

“Wait—really? Your boss said yes?” Michael asks, eyebrows climbing up toward his hairline as he scrambles to his feet. He wipes his hands off on his jeans as he takes another step forward until Alex is close enough to touch.

“Yeah,” Alex answers. “He wants to know what’s going on with the machine as much as we do and you’re his best shot at figuring it out. The two of us can work on it together for as long as it takes.”

“Does he know about Jones?” Michael asks.

Alex pauses to think about that. “He might know of him if he’s mentioned in the Caulfield files he has access to, but I didn’t want to tell him about everything that’s been going on without your permission,” Alex says. “If you want him to know, we can tell him when we see him.”

“When are we going?” Michael asks, his excitement getting the better of him. The Lockhart Machine could hold the answer to so many questions—about Jones, his mom, Max, their planet, his mom—it’s a little overwhelming to think he can actually get his hands on it.

“Tomorrow night, if you want,” Alex says. “Sooner, even, if Sanders lets you have the day off tomorrow.”

Michael lets that sink in.

This time tomorrow, he could be inside a secret para-military research base.

With secret para-military operatives who know he’s an alien.

The reality of that situation hits Michael a little belatedly and he feels his chest start to clench with anxiety.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Alex asks, feet shuffling in the gravel as he inches closer out of instinct.

Michael is silent for a moment as he chooses his words. He feels the tips of Alex’s fingers brush his right hand and turns into the touch immediately, locking their fingers together.

“You trust these people, right?” he asks at last, and the trepidation must show on his face because Alex reaches forward with his other hand to cup his face in his palm.

“Michael, I wouldn’t take you there if I didn’t,” Alex says softly, letting his thumb cares the swell of his cheekbone.

Michael closes his eyes to the feeling and takes a deep, grounding breath.

“And if it makes you feel better, as a precaution, I will be armed and I don’t intend to let you out of my sight for a single second the entire time we’re there,” Alex continues, the sincerity of his expression reassuring. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Michael can’t help but believe him—If there’s one thing in this entire world that Michael has faith in, it’s that Alex would do absolutely anything to keep him safe.

“Okay,” Michael nods, feeling the tightness in his chest ease. “I’ll ask Sanders for the day off tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Alex asks.

“Yeah,” Michael says, projecting more confidence this time. “Daddy Dictator isn’t gonna wait around politely while we look for a way to stop him. The sooner we find out why he wants that machine, the better.”

“Okay,” Alex says. “We’ll carpool.”

Michael laughs at that. “Looking forward to it.”

Alex smiles at him then, his eyes flicking down toward his mouth, and Michael is suddenly very aware of how close they’re standing to each other. He can practically feel the heat coming from Alex’s body against his chest and Michael is suddenly desperate to find out if his sweater is as soft as it looks.

“So,” Michael says, his voice dropping in pitch just a little as he shifts even closer, “did you come all the way out here just to give me this or is there something else I can do for you?”

“Come here,” Alex laughs as he pulls Michael in for a kiss, the hand on his cheek sliding back to anchor in his curls.

The first touch of Alex’s lips is electric, sending shivers down his spine, and Michael is hopelessly addicted. He moves in for another kiss and then another, obsessed with the way Alex sighs against his mouth and tugs lightly on his hair. He lets go of Alex’s hand to wrap his arms around his waist between his leather jacket and his sweater, pleased to find it just as soft as he imagined.

He’s so lost in the sensation he doesn’t even realize he’s being moved until his back hits the side of the sedan he’s been working on. It knocks the breath out of him, making him gasp, and Alex takes full advantage, flicking the tip of his tongue inside his mouth. Michael moans and draws his arms tighter around Alex’s waist until they’re chest to chest, one of Alex’s legs slipping between his own.

Michael laughs softly against Alex’s mouth when he pulls back to take a breath, almost high on the love he feels for the man in his arms.

“Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?” Alex asks suddenly, brushing his nose alongside Michael’s.

“Alex Manes,” Michael says, pulling back to look at him, smiling so wide his face hurts. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yeah, I am,” Alex answers, wearing a bright smile of his own, and Michael can’t help but lean forward to kiss him again, his heart soaring with affection.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Alex laughs when Michael pulls away.

“I’ve got maybe another twenty minutes of work to finish on this car before I can take a shower and get ready,” Michael tells him, “but you’re welcome to wait in the Airstream for me if you want.”

Alex gives him an incredulous look as he says, “If I wait for you in the Airstream, I think we both know we’re going to end up skipping dinner.”

“What’s the matter, Manes?” Michael asks, head tilting as he gives him a cheeky smile. “Afraid you can’t keep your hands to yourself?”

“I remember what you look like in a towel, Guerin,” Alex says, and the way he nudges his leg forward just a little more between Michael’s thighs has to be intentional. “Can you really blame me?”

Michael’s throat clicks as he swallows. “Fair enough,” he says. “Where should I meet you?”

“Come by my place at seven,” Alex says.

“Are you cooking for me?” Michael asks, eyebrows raised. He’s never done that for him before, didn’t even know Alex could cook.

“Maybe. You’ll just have to wait to find out,” Alex shrugs noncommittally, but his smile makes Michael think the answer is yes.

“Okay,” Michael grins.

“I’ll see you soon,” Alex says, leaning in for one last kiss that turns into several when Michael nips his bottom lip playfully between his teeth.

“Okay, I really gotta go,” Alex laughs a few moments later, voice muffled by Michael’s mouth.

“Mm, fine,” Michael grumbles, unwinding his arms from Alex’s waist with a short-lived pout. “I’ll see you later.”

Alex drops another kiss on Michael’s cheek before he turns around and heads back to his car.

Michael leans against the car and watches him drive off until his tail lights disappear in the distance before getting back to his work, a spring in his step and a broad smile on his face.

He’s so wrapped up thinking about what Alex has in store for him tonight, he doesn’t notice the footsteps approaching behind him until he hears a gruff voice say, “Just friends, huh? They change the meaning of that word when I wasn’t looking?”

“Mind your business, old man,” Michael shoots back, not an ounce of heat in his words.

Sanders lets out an amused huff and takes another step closer, coming to stand beside him. “Happiness looks good on you, kid,” he says, clapping an affectionate hand on his shoulder.

Michael grins in spite of himself as he turns and catches the smile on Sanders’ weathered face. “Feels pretty good too.”

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #rnm fic #roswell new mexico #my fic

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