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icyharrington · 5 years

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Is It Wrong?- Part 6 (Michael Langdon X Reader)

i am so sorry that this took so long to update!! i was going thru a period of low motivation, and had absolutely no inspiration to write. this is the second to last part of the series (not including the epilogue)!! thank you to everyone who has supported this fic throughout the past few months!!! i love each and every one of you nasty thots with my whole heart 💕

plot: michael langdon is a picture-perfect fuckboy, and, lucky for you, he’s also your stepbrother. how will you survive?

warnings: inappropriate relationships, fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, high school au, teen angst, cunnilingus, dirty talk, degradation, anal fingering, anal sex, semi-public sex, sexual intercourse, praise kink (kind of?), cum play

word count: 7.5k

tags: @alicecooper19 @ritualmichael @blackfyrez @bbyduncan @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @michaelsapostle @trelaney @kissydevil @langdonalien @langdonsdemon @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @wroteclassicaly @langdonsinferno @ccodyfern @cocosfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @theinevitableprophecy @americanhorrorstudies @sodanova @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @divinelangdon @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @lxngdonscoven @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @bademliimagnum @nana15774 @hisgirlwonder @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @pr1ncessd1e @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @isoldedax @fckinsupreme @lvngdvns @telexnesis @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @noelle525 @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @coastalmason @anacerta @punkysouls @nuke-em-from-orbit @codyswhore @thingsthatoncemeantnothing @beriyeri @dcvilrising @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @imjustasadhoe @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @michaelsfrenchtoast

(sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged but isn’t in my tag list!! tumblr won’t let me tag certain blogs for some reason!!)

Michael’s bedroom had become, to you, a world all of its own. Whenever you were there, lying amidst the plaid-printed comforter and inhaling the distinct scent of Michael that clung to his pillowcase, you’d feel as though the outside world had, for the time being, ceased to exist altogether.

You were certain you spent more time in Michael’s room than your own nowadays; there was just something so comforting about his room, even despite the cringe-worthy posters of half-naked girls that never failed to make you roll your eyes. There was something comforting about Michael.

Most nights you’d hang out there, even when Michael scoffed at your presence, insisting that he was busy (but smiling with a knowing look in his eyes all the same). Sometimes you’d watch him play his computer games, other times you’d lie with your head on his chest and watch South Park reruns (god, was Michael immature, you’d come to realize, after witnessing him laugh at one too many dick jokes), and oftentimes you’d do nothing but have constant, urgent sex.

Urgent- recently things had seemed that way, like not a single second in one another’s company could be put to waste. As the weather grew warmer and the months passed by at a startlingly rapid pace, it became increasingly apparent that there wasn’t much time left.

Both of you had finished sending in your college applications, and soon enough, you’d both be graduating high school- a thought that filled you with dread.

You’d grown so fond of having Michael at an arm’s length at all times, being able to creep into his room whenever you felt particularly bored or or lonely or horny. What would you do once you were away at college? Thinking about living Michael-less again filled you with thousands of emotions, all pooled up in the pit of your belly, that you intended to ignore and deal with later.

This couldn’t keep on, you knew. It was inevitable that things would eventually have to end between the two of you. But when?

You found yourself lost in thought as you laid next to Michael one night; he wore only his boxers, one arm lifted so he could scroll through his phone while he idly wrapped the other around you. Lifting your head slightly, you looked at his flawless profile, a sound of vague discontent coming up from the back of your throat as you debated saying something.

He turned to you, quirking an eyebrow and setting his phone down on his chest. “What?”

“I dunno,” you said. You turned onto your side so you were pressed closer up against his warm body, splaying your palm flat on his soft tummy. He smelled good, you noticed, gratefully inhaling the boyish, woodsy scent of his deodorant as you nuzzled your nose against his skin. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” He was tracing a pattern on your back with his fingertips, something you were sure he was doing absentmindedly.

“Graduation,” you said. This, of course, wasn’t the full truth, but you weren’t about to make yourself seem unnecessarily needy by mentioning that you were also thinking about the fact that in a matter of months, you and Michael could no longer continue…whatever the hell this was.

You doubted Michael had even thought about it. In fact, you doubted he even cared. Once he got to college, he’d have a fresh slew of girls eager to jump on his dick, and he would probably forget all about you.

“I can’t fucking wait,” he said, and you frowned, lifting your head so you could meet his gaze. “The graduation parties are gonna be fucking insane. I’ll have to teach you how to play beer pong before so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

“Aren’t you, like, scared to graduate?” Aren’t you scared of losing me? is what you really wanted to ask, but of course you held your tongue.

He squinted his eyes like you’d just said the most incomprehensible thing he’d ever heard. “Fuck no. I’ve been done with high school since freshman year. Plus, college is gonna be fucking lit.”

You rolled your eyes at his usage of the word lit, heart sinking ever-so-slightly at his nonchalance. “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be really lit, having a new set of groupies lined up at your disposal.”

His expression shifted, a cocky smirk crossing his plump lips at the obvious bitterness behind your words. Fuck. You definitely shouldn’t have said that. “Aw, is someone jealous?”

“No,” you said defensively, cheeks burning up as Michael’s lips continued to curl upwards at the corners, hooded eyes flashing mischievously.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice suddenly dropping several octaves, craning his neck so that he could speak into your ear. “Your pussy will always be my favorite.”

Your eyelids flickered at the unexpected vulgarity of his words, and it took everything inside you not to bite your lip. You couldn’t keep doing this with him- you had to talk about this, like mature soon-to-be adults, instead of having sex in an attempt to avoid the topic.

“But— Michael,” you said, tone pitched almost to the point of whining. “Don’t you ever think about what’s gonna happen between us once we leave for college?”

Aaand— there it was. Fuck it. If you sounded needy, so be it.

His grin faltered for a moment, an emotion that you couldn’t quite decipher crossing his face for a mere fragment of a second. Then he shifted, returning to his previous demeanor and promptly rolling on top of you. “Let’s just have fun, baby. We don’t have to think about that yet.”

His lips grazed your neck, and he began trailing kisses from your jugular over to the front of your throat, and then to your jaw. Your breath hitched, stomach dipping as you were instantly overcome with arousal- it was just that easy, apparently.

“Michael,” you breathed, squirming beneath the weight of his lean frame. “Michael, can we please talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” he said coolly. He moved his head down so that he was planting kisses down the valley between your breasts, which was covered by the oversize sleep shirt you wore (which you’d “borrowed” from Michael). “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

He continued moving down until he was resting between your parted thighs, wasting no time before working your lace panties down your legs and discarding them off the side of the bed. He spread your legs, hoisting one up to rest over his toned shoulder as he eyed your bare, wet cunt, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Mine,” he mumbled, placing an open-mouthed kiss to your soft inner thigh. His.

Maybe he was right. Maybe it would be better if you didn’t think about it, didn’t take things so seriously.

Or maybe you’d simply fallen under his spell for the umpteenth time, seduced by his sweet talking and expert touch and sparkling blue eyes. This prospect seemed far more likely.

“You don’t have to worry about anything, baby. Just relax…” His soft blond waves grazed against your inner thighs and you shivered, rolling your hips forward impatiently and eliciting a low chuckle from his full, parted lips. “So needy. Does my baby sis want me to make her cum all over my tongue? Hm?”

Without thinking, you took a handful of his silky hair in one hand, pushing your pelvis up towards him until you could feel his mouth against your core. Much to your disappointment, however, he pulled back, looking up at you from between your legs with glinting eyes.

“Say it,” he said, tone velvety and seductive as his large, veined hands slid underneath your shirt to grope your tits. “Tell your big brother what you want him to do to you.”

On one hand, you wanted to smack him- could he stop with all that step-sibling talk already? God, it just made things so weird.

…But on the other hand…

“Want you to make me cum, Mikey…” You batted your eyes down at him, making sure to speak with as much syrupy sweetness as you could manage; you saw his jaw just barely clench at your words, and inwardly you smiled. “Please. Wanna feel your mouth all over me.”

“My bad girl,” he cooed, dragging his tongue up between your folds and circling the pointed edge around your clit. “So glad I was the first one to claim this perfect little cunt.”

He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it into his hot mouth and pressing his tongue harshly against it; you sighed, tugging at his hair as your head fell back into the pillows, his hands roughly kneading your tits until they stung.

“That feel good, baby?” he breathed, although the question was entirely unnecessary- if anyone gave good head, it was Michael Langdon, and he knew it.

He pulled one hand from underneath your shirt so he could form circles over your clit with his thumb, his tongue moving to lap at your opening before easing inside.

“Fuck, Michael,” you sighed, twisting your fist perhaps a bit too hard, because he drew his head back from your aching heat to shoot you a glare.

“Can you not rip my hair out of my head, please?” he said irritably, his mouth and chin glistening with your arousal.

“Not like you haven’t done it to me a million times,” you mumbled.

“What was that?” he asked gruffly, yanking you closer to him by your thigh, which was still draped over his shoulder. “You wanna be a bitch? ‘Cause I can treat you like a bitch if that’s what you want.”

You lifted your head to give him a pointed look through narrowed eyes. “Just shut up and eat my pussy, dumbass.”

“Not with that attitude,” he said, crawling up your body and wrapping his fingers loosely around your throat. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, pale eyes boring into yours, but you could tell he was trying his hardest not to laugh. “I thought you wanted to be a good girl?”

You smirked, suddenly having found yourself in a bratty mood. “Nah, not today.”

Apparently you were looking to get destroyed. You saw something shift in Michael’s features, licking his lips hungrily as he slowly looked you up and down.

“Okay, if that’s how you wanna play.” In an instant, he had you flipped over so you were lying flat on your stomach, your insides buzzing with anticipation over what was to come; he slowly trailed his fingertips down from the base of your neck and along the expanse of your spine, stopping when he reached the small of your back. There was a brief stall in his motions, and then a loud crack as he landed a firm slap on your ass.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to try,” he said, taking his other hand to spread your ass cheeks before him. “Since you wanna be a bad girl tonight, I think you’ll like it.”

You wiggled nervously, bringing your arms under your chin as Michael leaned over off the side of his bed to grab something from his bedside table drawer. As much as you were apprehensive to find out what he was planning, you trusted Michael- you usually liked anything he introduced you to.

You heard shuffling behind you as Michael presumably undressed himself, immediately followed by a squirting sound— lube.

Oh fuck.

“Only good girls get it in their pussy,” Michael said, a slick-sounding noise coming from behind you as Michael pumped the lube up and down his cock. “Bad girls? They get it in the ass.”

“M-Michael-“ you started, voice trailing off when he began rubbing a cool substance against the opening of your ass, massaging the puckered skin with steady circles before dipping the tip of his finger inside. “Fuck!”

He sank his finger deeper, the lube assisting in this action; it still hurt, though, your tight, untouched hole being stretched for the first time- and he expected you to take his dick!?

As much as the idea frightened you, you couldn’t deny that there was something exciting about Michael claiming all of you, every last part.

“Just relax, baby,” he murmured, pumping his finger in and out of you until he felt you were sufficiently stretched out. He added a second finger, a low groan passing your lips as he quickened his pace, the intrusion encompassing you with a combination of pleasure and discomfort. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you retorted, trying to catch your breath. “It’s my asshole, idiot.”

“I was trying to talk dirty,” he snapped, thrusting his fingers in you deeper and brushing against something that made you see stars.

“How about just focus on doing what you’re doing instead of talking so much,” you said, arching your back to give him better access to you. Of course he’d been right about you liking this, you thought almost bitterly- he always knew what you were going to like.

“You really wanna be a brat tonight, huh?” he said, scissoring his fingers apart inside you to stretch your narrow walls even further. You gasped, head falling to the mattress as a jolt of pain shot throughout your body. “Must not want me to go easy on you.”

You said nothing (not that you’d be able to speak if you wanted to, seeing that your breath was caught in your throat). He continued fucking you with his fingers until he could slide them in and out with ease, pulling them out and aligning the head of his cock with your entrance instead.

“Such a little slut for me,” he said, shifting his weight so he was kneeling between your legs. He lifted you up at the hips, just barely pressing his cock into your now-stretched hole. “Now all your holes are mine.”

“How do you know I didn’t let my ex fuck me in the ass?” you teased, moving your hips from side to side as he began pushing himself deeper.

A hand landed on the back of your neck, pushing you down so your face was buried in the pillow; seconds later, your ass was met with a sharp smack.

“Yeah, right. Like you’d let anyone besides me be the first,” he said, pausing for a moment before continuing. “…You wouldn’t, right?”

You stifled a laugh- you were sure there was nothing Michael feared more than finding out you’d given away your anal virginity to someone else- and a “circle jerking jock”, no less. You supposed that maybe it wasn’t the wisest choice to intentionally piss Michael off right as he was about to fuck you in the ass, but you were having too much fun to stop.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, the pads of Michael’s fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. “I mean, he fucked me better than you anyway.”

The last part was a blatant lie meant to rile Michael up, and you knew Michael knew it; still, he brought one hand from your hips to the back of your head, wrapping a strand of your hair around his palm and forcefully pulling it back.

“Really? He fucked you better I do?” In one sharp forward motion, he entered you almost fully, earning him a weak cry from your parted mouth. “Made you cum better than I do?”-he paused to scoff- “I bet he couldn’t even make you cum.”

Goddamn it. There was another thing Michael was right about, not that you were about to let him know that.

“He didn’t know about that spot inside you that makes you cum so hard you cry, or how to tease you until you’re all needy and desperate, begging to be filled up like the whore you are,” he continued, and you could practically hear the cocky grin on his face as he spoke, his hips still as he waited for you to adjust to the feeling of a dick being in your ass. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

You kept silent, knowing better than to challenge him again.

He laughed, your lower body trembling in arousal and agony as he gingerly slid inside the rest of the way. “Of course I’m right. So keep your mouth shut unless it’s to take my cock.”

With that, he began fucking you- hard and steady, his hips rocking back ever-so-slightly before jutting forward again, the sensation so intense that your eyes rolled back into your skull. Taking fistfuls of Michael’s sheets in each hand, you let out a raspy whine, tears darkening the pillowcase under your head with large wet spots.

“Fuck, you really are a bad girl, aren’t you?” he snickered, upon hearing your soft moans that had been muffled by his pillows.

You nodded mindlessly, pushing your hips back weakly with every thrust Michael administered, vision going blurry at the corners each time he seated himself all the way inside you. You’d never felt anything like it before- you were so full that it felt you might fall apart at any moment, completely at Michael’s mercy.

“You like that? Like it when I stretch you out?” he grunted, and you could tell that he was already close, your tight hole clenching with every burst of pain he inflicted with his cock. Leaning forward, he hooked one toned arm around your thigh so he could mercilessly rub your clit, hissing lowly as he pounded inside you fully again.

You groaned, gritting your teeth as he formed fast shapes over your sensitive bud, white spots forming in front of your eyes as he gradually increased his speed.

Fuck, it hurt, but both you and Michael knew by now that you liked pain, liked the way it matched together so perfectly with pleasure.

“You doing okay, baby?” Michael whispered as he pushed a few moist strands of hair away from your face, his sweat-covered chest pressing firmly against your back.

A gravelly “m’fine,” was all you could manage.

“Good girl,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear before he brought himself back to a standing position, fingers still working at your clit. “Taking me so well, like always.”

You found yourself smiling weakly at his praise, cheek flush against Michael’s now-tearstained pillows; your stomach dropped, Michael’s fingers still massaging your clit with precision until you were panting, abdomen tightening as you neared your climax.

It wasn’t long before you were cumming, still listening to him breathing heavily as he chased his own impending orgasm behind you. When you felt both hands return to your hips, his fingers gripping your tender skin until you whimpered, you knew he was close to the edge.

“You want your ass filled with my cum?” he said breathlessly, and you could tell it was taking everything inside him to properly get the words out. He slapped your ass, the sound crisp and loud, and you inhaled sharply. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes, Michael, I want it…” you said, half-dazed, voice so low you weren’t sure he’d even heard you. “Want your cum in my ass. Please…”

“Fuck.” Hurriedly, he impaled you until his balls slapped crudely against your ass; then, with a string of incoherent expletives, he shot his warm load deep inside you.

He stayed seated inside for a moment, placing a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“Fuck. You’re my good girl, aren’t you, (y/n)?” He pulled out of you slowly, running his fingers through the cum that was now leaking out of your hole and down your thighs. “So fucking good for me.”

He turned your limp body over so you were on your back, falling to lie beside you. Through half-open eyes, you surveyed him, boyishly handsome with damp curls clinging to his glowing forehead, flat torso rising and falling as he laced his fingers over his chest. God fucking damn it, was he beautiful.

“I can’t believe you actually let me fuck you in the ass,” he said, spit-glossed lips curving upwards at the corners as he flashed his perfect top row of teeth.

“I can’t believe it either,” you muttered, feigning slight irritation, although truthfully, you could believe it- you’d do anything for Michael.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, moving to pull you up against his chest. “You’re what my friends would call a keeper.”

Outwardly, you laughed, but his words made your heart sink for a reason you couldn’t explain.

A keeper. If only he really believed that.

ii.

For a while, things kept on like this- neither of you wanted to talk about the future, and so whenever it was mentioned, you’d wind up having sex to avoid the conversation you both were avoiding.

And then, one day, you brought in the mail to find that you’d received a letter from your top college— you’d been accepted.

That night, your parents had something of a makeshift celebration- your father insisted upon going out to dinner despite your protests, which was how you found yourself in a cramped Cheesecake Factory booth, thigh pressed up against Michael’s as your father and Miriam bickered across from you. You couldn’t help but notice that the entire situation felt vaguely familiar.

“Is it just me, or have the prices here gone up?” your father said, squinting his eyes to better read the small menu lettering.

“I told you we didn’t have to come here,” you mumbled, elbows leant on the marble surface of the table.

“Don’t be silly, sweetie,” Miriam said. “We have to celebrate.”

“God, these prices are ridiculous, though. Why don’t we just leave and go to Applebee’s instead?” your father continued, loud enough that you were sure any passing waiter might be able to hear; in unison, you and Michael groaned.

“(Your dad’s name)!” said Miriam, eyes widened in disbelief as she turned back to you with a forced smile. “Don’t mind your cheapskate of a father, (y/n). You totally deserve to celebrate. You must be so excited!”

“Yep,” you said.

And you were excited- for the most part, at least. It just seemed like time had passed by so quickly: you’d been so wrapped up in all the meaningless teenage drama and angst of your senior year that it hadn’t even occurred to you how soon it would all be ending. And now you were faced with a whole new problem altogether; something that, at one point, had seemed like more of a blessing than a curse.

Your impending life without Michael.

You’d been attempting to avoid the thought, but as time went on, you found yourself becoming less and less able to tuck it away to the back of your mind. You’d be committing to college soon, as would Michael (once he heard back from one of the few colleges he’d applied to) and then that was it.

Of course there would be the breaks between semesters and during holidays; there was no question of whether you and Michael would see each other again. You probably wouldn’t have even been worried at all, had the two of you been strictly stepsiblings-with-benefits, but you were fairly certain that both you and Michael knew that wasn’t exactly the case here.

Maybe you were being delusional for thinking so. Anyone with common sense knew that Michael Langdon was a fuckboy, an asshole who knew how to charm girls into sucking his dick and nothing more. To think that there was anything deeper beyond your relationship (if you could even call it that) was probably foolish. And yet…

Sigh.

God, he had you whipped. It was nauseating, really. Only a few months ago, you’d been desperate for the school year to end so you’d never (or, at least, almost never) have to see Michael’s stupidly beautiful face again. Now, the mere thought of no longer being around him, no longer hearing his smart-ass comments and borderline-objectifying remarks made you feel queasy.

Of course the one boy you’d ever been hung up on like this had to be your fuckboy stepbrother, of all people. It was just your luck to wind up in a situation as convoluted and ridiculous as this one.

“What kinds of things are you thinking of doing in college?” asked Miriam, obviously aiming to fulfill her supportive stepparent quota for the evening. “Are you planning to join a sorority?”

Michael snorted. “You really think (y/n) would be able to get into a sorority?”

You scowled, making sure your arm was completely hidden underneath the table before pinching Michael’s thigh. “If I wanted to join a sorority- which I don’t, by the way- I would definitely be able to get in. So shut up.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that,” he said, smirking in that stupid, insufferable way that made you want to punch him right in his perfect face. Asshole.

Miriam shook her head in a way that said oh, these darned kids as your father continued to ignore everyone, still immersed in the contents of his menu. “Be nice, Michael.”

“What are you gonna do once you get to college, huh, (y/n)?” said Michael through a thin-lipped smile. You recognized that look- it was the face he made whenever he was intentionally trying to upset you. Of fucking course he’d choose today, of all days, to be an asshole. “I’m sure all the douchey frat guys will be allll over you. If you actually go to parties, that is.”

“You’re gonna be a douchey frat guy, Michael. So I really wouldn’t be talking if I were you.” You crossed your arms defensively over your chest, leaning back to rest your back against the padded booth.

“You really think I’d join a frat?” Michael asked, wrinkling his nose. “I’m not sticking a pinecone up my ass for anyone, especially not a bunch of circle jerkers.”

“Huh? What about pinecones?” your father said suddenly, putting down his menu to more directly focus on the conversation going on across from him.

You rubbed your temples, letting out a slow, exasperated exhale.

“(Y/n) was just telling me how excited she is to meet all the frat boys at college,” said Michael, flashing you a shit-eating grin.

“I was not!”

Just then, the waitress came over- a woman in her mid-sixties with bleach blond hair (you certainly wouldn’t admit this, but you were almost grateful to find that the waitress wasn’t a cute, younger girl, just so you wouldn’t be forced to watch Michael flirting with someone else in front of you).

As everyone ordered their food, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around Michael’s wrist, pulling his hand over to your bare thigh and squeezing it; he peered over at you, cocking an eyebrow inquisitively- usually he was the one pursuing you in public, so you didn’t doubt that this had caught him off guard.

You gave Michael a pout, widening your eyes faux-innocently as you traced your fingers along the veins in his hands.

To your disappointment, Michael shooed you away, hardly looking at you as he brought his attention back to the waitress. Huh. Definitely not typical Michael behavior. Once the waitress had headed off, you decided to take to a different approach: delicately, you placed your hand on Michael’s crotch, mouth watering as you grasped the large bulge that protruded from the front of his jeans.

At this, his body stiffened, but still he ignored your advances, pushing your hand off his lap and shooting you an indecipherable look from the corner of his eye.

God, what the hell was his problem tonight?

Just one more try, you thought, returning your hand to where it’d been seconds before and palming the outline of his cock. His breath hitched, hands flying to wrap around the edge of the table as you ran your thumb up and down his clothed length.

“I gotta take a piss,” Michael muttered, removing your hand from his lap as he abruptly stood up.

“Michael!” scolded Miriam, but he was already gone.

“I have to go to the bathroom too, actually,” you said suddenly, not bothering to worry about how suspicious it might look that you were following Michael. If your parents had gone this long without noticing anything weird between you and Michael, you doubted they ever would.

You weaved your way through the tables, heading to the dimly lit hallway that led to the bathroom; you could see Michael about to open the door to the men’s bathroom, walking so slowly he was practically sauntering. His shoulders were slumped, hands deep in the pockets of his skinny jeans, and for a second you wondered why the hell he looked so goddamn sad.

“Why were you acting like a little bitch back there?” you called after him, leaning one shoulder against the wall.

He stopped in his tracks, sighing deeply as he turned around to look at you. The playful expression you were so used to seeing on his face was nowhere to be found, and in all honesty, his seriousness unsettled you. “(Y/n)… we are literally out in public.”

“Not like that’s ever made a difference to you before.”

“Well, now that we’re adults, I think we should stop doing stupid shit like that.” He was talking out of his ass, clearly- you could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

“What, are you mad at me or something?” Oh god. Stop acting like a needy girlfriend, (y/n), you thought to yourself. Stop it right the fuck now.

“Why would I be mad at you?” His back was resting against the door to the bathroom now, obviously no longer worried about having to take a piss, as he’d claimed. You admired him for a second- the way his short-sleeved button-up hugged the barely bulging muscles in his arms, the way he had perhaps one too many top buttons undone. Fuck, he looked good. But then again, when didn’t he? “What would even make you think that?”

“‘Cause you were being an asshole at the table, talking about frat guys and shit.” You swallowed, bouncing anxiously on the balls of your feet as you considered what to say next. There was more, the words lingering on the back of your tongue, but you didn’t know how to go about phrasing them. “And honestly, Michael? It seems like you aren’t even happy for me.”

He raised his eyebrows, plump pink lips curving upwards at one corner. “What did you want me to do? Eat your fucking ass?”

Well, yeah, that’d be nice…you thought idly, before mentally kicking yourself for being so goddamn thirsty all the time.

“No, but you know this is a big deal to me, and you haven’t even said congratulations,” you said.

“Okay, then, congrats,” he said, his tone suddenly turning ice cold. “I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun three hours away with all your new frat boy friends.”

And, with that, he turned on his heel and went into the bathroom, letting the door slam shut and rattle noisily in its hinges behind him.

Oh.

So that’s why he’s upset. Your lips twitched, and then you were smiling, big and stupid.

You knew the situation shouldn’t have made you happy- in fact, happiness was the last emotion you’d ever expect to feel after one of Michael’s little bitch fits- but there was something so satisfying about knowing that Michael was worried about you meeting other guys, knowing that he didn’t want you three hours away from him, knowing that maybe he felt the same way about you that you did about him.

Or maybe you were putting too much thought into things, like always. Whatever— you’d take what you could get.

iii.

Michael had made it a point, after your confrontation, to avoid you. By now you were used to him doing things like this; you’d come to realize that these cold-shoulder periods were simply his way of recuperating his emotions.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Michael was accepted into his own top choice (god, was he lucky that he had the entire high schools’ staff wrapped around his finger, because lord knew he hadn’t exerted a single bit of effort to get good grades)- a school that was far closer to home than the one you’d committed to. You’d both ordered your cap and gown, and then, in what seemed like a blink of an eye, graduation day finally rolled around.

You could hardly believe that the day had come. You could still remember your very first day of high school, years before when you were still naive and innocent- things had been so simple back then.

Now, as you stood before the mirror in the girl’s bathroom, dressed in your deep blue graduation gown with the matching cap tucked under your arm, you could hardly wrap your head around how much your life had changed, how much you’d changed.

In about a half an hour, the entire senior class was due to meet outside at the football field, where hundreds of cheap fold-out chairs had been set up in front of the podium your principal would be standing behind. You were dreading the ceremony, groaning internally when you thought of the unforgiving June heat, and the fact that you’d have to walk up there, a sweaty mess, to retrieve your diploma in front of everyone.

Once it was over, though, you’d be free. And god, what a frightening thought that was.

You didn’t have much of an idea of what your future held, but you supposed you’d figure that out later. Popping the top back onto your tube of lipstick and tossing it into your purse, you examined yourself thoughtfully before positioning the cap on your head and fiddling with the tassel so it fell just right.

You imagined Michael doing the same thing in the boy’s bathroom, spending far too much time adjusting his hair in the mirror, making poses at himself and practicing the way he’d smile when it was his turn to get his diploma. The thought was so silly, so endearing, that it made your heart hurt a little.

Michael won’t ignore you forever, you told yourself. He just needs to sort things out with himself.

You left the bathroom, pulling your bag over your shoulder and walking down the hall towards the front entrance of the school. People had already begun clearing out, and although you could hear laughter echoing throughout the hallways, there weren’t many fellow seniors in sight.

The pale yellow hallways looked dismal (or more dismal than usual, at least), stripped of their colorful posters for the summer. You dragged your fingertips along a freshly-bare wall as you strolled leisurely, hoping to waste as much time as possible before you were obligated to go outside.

As you walked past an empty classroom, you heard shuffling coming from an adjacent hallway; in an instant, you were pressed up against the door, a large hand clamped tightly over your mouth. It took a split second for you to process the all-too-familiar scent of Michael, your heart rate immediately slowing once you figured out what was going on.

“Michael, what the hell are you doing?” you demanded, once you’d utilized an obscene amount of strength to tear his hand away from your mouth.

He was half-smiling, working a wad of pink-tinted cinnamon gum in his mouth, pale eyes shimmering with fondness as he looked down at you. You were lost in his gaze for all of a few seconds, his chest pinning you back against the door, when you remembered that you were both in public, and not just in public- in school.

“Michael, are you fucking cra-“

Your words were promptly cut off as Michael pulled you back, opening the classroom door with one hand while he used the other to hold onto your wrist. Then he tugged you inside, checking halfheartedly over his shoulder to make sure that nobody had seen.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, and I think I finally figured things out,” he said, pushing you back onto the teacher’s desk and wedging himself between your parted thighs, taking a moment to hike up your graduation gown so your legs were exposed. “Any second that I’m not fucking you is a second wasted.”

He didn’t give you the chance to respond (or mock him for his corniness), pressing his lips fervently to yours with such intensity that you fell back onto the desk, your graduation cap falling off and toppling to the ground. Instinctively, you kissed him back, fingernails pressing into his back (which bore the same deep blue fabric as you) as you attempted to match the urgency of his kiss.

This was a bad idea. No, this was an awful idea. So why, oh why, didn’t you want to stop?

“We can’t do this here,” you said breathlessly, during one interval when Michael had broken away to catch his breath, a strand of saliva stretching between your faces.

“Sure we can,” he said, reaching up the short floral dress you wore under your gown and fumbling with your underwear. “We just have to be quick.”

“W-what if someone walks in?” you pressed, allowing Michael to work your panties down your legs and discard them on a desk. He shrugged, bunching up the fabric of his own gown so he could unbutton his jeans and retrieve his cock from its confines.

“Who cares? It’s not like we can get suspended,” he said, stunning you, as usual, with his nonchalance. He took his shaft in one hand, already semi-erect, rubbing his leaking head against your inner thigh. You wanted so desperately to argue, to push him away, but fuck— this hold Michael had on you had to be supernatural, because all you could bring yourself to do was pull him closer.

“Michael, we’re stepsiblings. People are gonna lose their fucking minds if they find out—”

“—So then they won’t find out.” He ran his cock through your slick folds, evoking a soft mewl from the back of your throat. “Like I said, we just have to be quick.”

You pressed your lips shut, squeaking quietly when he penetrated you in one slow thrust.

“Fuck,” he groaned, clutching your upper thighs with a bruising hold, balls slapping noisily against your skin as he bottomed out inside you. “Such a bad girl for me.”

“M-Michael…” you whined, rolling your hips in melodic time with Michael’s, his pelvis gradually slamming against yours harder and harder until he’d adopted an almost ruthless pace to fuck you with. He peppered your jawline and throat with kisses as he continued to fuck into you, your legs raising to wrap around his torso, broken moans leaving you as the blunt edge of the desk dug into your lower back.

“You’ll do anything for your big brother, won’t you?” he growled against your throat, cock brushing against something spongey and sensitive inside you and sending your lower body into convulsions. “Spreading your legs and letting me split your little cunt whenever I feel like it…”

Your pussy clenched at these words, cheeks burning in shame at the truth behind them—it was almost embarrassing how perpetually willing you were to let him have his way with you. He hissed, inserting one hand between your warm bodies to work at your clit, the other extending up to your face so he could clasp his hand over your mouth.

“Such a fucking slut for me,” he said between sharp inhales, and you could taste the salt of sweat on his palm; his eyes were droopy with lust, pupils dilated so that the baby blue was almost entirely eclipsed— he was so beautiful, and you couldn’t help but admire him as he pumped into you. “You’re fucking dripping. I bet you wanna get caught.”

Realistically, you did not want to get caught, but the idea was still an interesting one, to say the least. You sank your fingernails deeper into Michael’s shoulders, hard enough that you’d probably leave half-moon shaped imprints in his skin, even through the tough material of his graduation gown.

“What would everyone think of you, hm? Knowing that you’re a little slut who loves being split on her stepbrother’s big cock?” he was speaking into your ear so low that he was barely whispering, chills erupting down your spine at the sheer lewdness of his words.

“I’ll bet all the guys would be lining up to get a taste of your slutty cunt if they knew how much of a whore you are,” he continued, impaling you with such aggression that your eyes rolled back into your skull. “Too bad that this pussy belongs to me.”

You couldn’t do much more than whimper, your teeth pressing against the inside of your mouth from the force of Michael’s hand against it.

From out in the hallway came a series of voices, and Michael stopped his thrusting, his cock still deep inside you. Your pussy twitched- your body’s natural attempt to resume the friction that had ceased and left you aching for more; both of you waited with bated breath for the group outside to pass the classroom, chests heaving in soundless unison.

“Fuck,” Michael grunted once the voices faded away, relocating his hand from your mouth to the desk, bracing himself with his palm flat against the faux-wooden surface as he returned to fucking you.

“Michael, please…” you moaned, rocking your hips underneath him impatiently. The prospect of being caught in such a compromising position was beginning to scare you, and as much as you never wanted to stop feeling the immense pleasure that only Michael could provide, you thought it’d be best to wrap things up for now.

“Shhhh.” He thumbed at your swollen bud roughly, your muscles tensing as you felt your orgasm start to build up in the pit of your belly. “Be a good girl for me and keep that pretty mouth shut.”

You did as you were told, closing your mouth and letting your head fall back as he slid in and out of your heat, making harsh contact with your cervix every time.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, cinnamon-scented breath hot on your neck as he nestled his face in your shoulder, biting down on the smooth skin beside your jugular. “Taking my cock so well.”

His thrusts grew sloppier with each passing second, and you tightened your legs around Michael’s waist, not wanting there to be even an inch of space between your bodies.

“Oh god…” you sighed, despite Michael’s demands, but at this point he was too far gone to scold you.

The sensation of Michael stretching you out, paired with his fingers against your most sensitive point, was far too much for you to bear- it didn’t take much more for the coil inside you to snap, sending you into an intense orgasm that had you seeing brilliantly colored fireworks amidst the boring gray-beige walls.

“Shit,” Michael grunted, your cunt squeezing around his length as he fucked you for all he was worth. You ground your hips up against him, crying out as he drove his cock so deep inside you that you swore you could feel it in your stomach.

A low, almost animalistic noise came from the depths of Michael’s throat as he came, his hot load filling you up and warming your insides. You laid there motionless, watching from underneath half-closed lids as he slowly pulled out and tucked himself back into his jeans. Your cheeks were flushed, hair matted to your damp forehead, lips swollen and glossy with spit; the cherry on top to complete your debauched look, though, was the thick cum dribbling down your inner thigh.

Michael’s eyes fell down to where his essence was spilling from you, a self-satisfied smirk crossing his lips as he reached forward and drew his fingertips through it.

“Open up,” he ordered, and you complied, granting him access to your mouth as he pressed his cum-coated fingers against your flattened tongue.

You wrapped your lips around him and sucked, eyes fluttering at his slightly bitter taste. Once he was sufficiently cleaned off, he withdrew his hand from your mouth with a loud, wet pop.

“That’s a good girl.”

You got up off the desk, recovering your purse from the ground where it had been abandoned before slipping your underwear back on underneath your dress. You probably would’ve preferred having some extra time to clean up, especially since Michael had came inside you, but that was out of the question for now.

You could only imagine Michael’s internal smugness at the thought that you’d be graduating high school with his cum leaking out of you.

“Fuck, we gotta go,” Michael said, checking his cell phone. “We have like five minutes.”

“Shit!”

You slung your purse over your shoulder and hurried out into the hallway, ignoring the dull pain between your legs from how hard Michael had fucked you. Michael followed hot on your heels, and together you made your way through the vacant halls of your soon-to-be former high school, not bothering once to look back.

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfic #american horror story #cody fern #ahs apocalypse #apocalypse #michael langdon smut #ahs smut #mine #michael langdon x you #ahs season 8 #duncan shepherd

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astralaffairs · 5 years

Text

put a ring on it 02 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it 02

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers lmk if you want to be added to tags

words: 4.7k

warnings: philip’s abs, on multiple occasions; alex and y/n being nerds; uncomfortable pda; it took me literally 11 months to update OOPS

desc: You've never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you're roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

Three McDonalds drive-thrus and two orders of Starbucks later, along with one stop for junk food at a gas station, you were driving down the road where Philip's house was, struggling to keep your eyes open despite the music he was blasting to counteract the late night. The combination of his obnoxiously loud singing and occasionally shoving your shoulder when he saw you beginning to space out was almost as endearing as it was annoying -- almost -- though you still wanted the ride to be over as soon as possible.

"Hamilton, you have got to turn that off," you groaned, taking a hand off the steering wheel to pinch the bridge of your nose. "You're giving me a migraine."

"Better angry than asleep." He grinned at you as you spared him an exasperated glance, and you immediately regretted it, turning back to the road with a scoff.

"How far away are we?"

He chuckled. "Just a few blocks down. This street turns into my street pretty soon."

"You better be right," you said, voice low, and he furrowed his brow.

"What was that?" he asked, his voice raised slightly over the blasting music. You pursed your lips, slamming your hand against the radio's power button while never taking your eyes off the road.

"I said, you're an asshole," you grumbled, raising your voice to match his.

"Aw, c'mon Y/N, you haven't been dating me for the past two years 'cause you hate me." You could hear the grin in his voice and resisted the urge to roll your eyes, knowing it would only enable him.

You rode the rest of the way in relative silence, save the tattoo of rain on your car roof and the steady squeak of your windshield wipers.

"What'd you say the address was?" you asked, slowing down as you approached where he grew up and furrowing your brow to look out at the houses surrounding you. He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Don't think I mentioned it. It's this next one up here."

I couldn't help my eyes widening at the near-mansion in front of us. "The blue one? With all the lights?"

He nodded. "Mom must've left the lights on 'cause she knew we were getting here late."

You clucked your tongue as you began to pull into the long driveway, your eyes wide as you checked out the front of the house. "You really don't let on to how rich you are."

"At least I know you're not using me for my money." You didn't even bother to glance at what you knew was him grinning to your right.

"Shut up." You were somewhere between too tired and too awestruck to come up with a proper response as you reached the front door at the top of the curved driveway. You pulled your hood up over your head with a huff, though you knew it wouldn't stop you from being soaked in seconds in the downpour outside. You rested your hand on the door handle as you stared out the window uneasily, hesitant to leave the dry warmth of your car, and that was when Philip rested a hand on your arm.

You immediately turned with raised eyebrows to swat it off, but as you met his expression that didn't wear either a smirk or an obnoxious grin, but a soft (and strangely reassuring?) smile, you couldn't bring yourself to. Instead, you raised an eyebrow, and he spoke before you could.

"I'll get the bags. Just go to the porch and get out of the rain," he said, lifting his hand off you as he unbuckled his seatbelt, before reaching for the handle of the door next to him.

"No, Hamilton, it's fine; I can get my own bag," you said dismissively as you moved to leave the car, but Philip just pulled you back toward him in the driver's seat.

"Don't worry about it, baby; I've got them," he said with an exaggerated wink. He moved to kiss you on the cheek, but you leaned out of his range of motion with a look of disgust. He only leaned back to his side of the car with a laugh. "And remember love, it's Philip to you."

He shot you a wink as he pushed the car door open, ducking out into the downpour. You bit your lip. He was soaked to the skin in seconds, and the poor sap had worn nothing but a tan t-shirt. You slowly pushed open your door, it clicking as it undid the lock, and rain quickly began to blow into where you sat. You grimaced as you glanced back at Philip.

He dragged a hand through his curls to push it out of his face, spraying water behind him as he opened your trunk. His thin tee stuck to him like a second skin, and you subconsciously sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth as your eyes trailed down to an outline of defined abs, flexing and clenching with his movements, only just visible in the dark under the porch lights. It wasn't long before he noticed you peeking out of the driver's seat, and he creased his dripping brow at you.

"What are you doing? Get to the porch!" he yelled over the drum of rain. You swallowed hard as you averted your gaze to the ground and pulled yourself out of the car. You slammed the door shut behind you and darted toward the short entryway of Philip's childhood home.

The door had a short path leading up to it, beginning with pillars and covered by an arched ceiling. You squinted, furrowing your brow. The marble pillars seemed just a little bit much, but you couldn't bring yourself to mind particularly, all things considered, especially as you ducked under said cover and waited for Philip to bring your bags.

Your knees trembled and your teeth chattered as you folded your arms, trying to keep heat in despite the cold water seeping into your clothes. Philip walked up next to you moments later with your suitcase, and you pulled out your keys to lock your car.

"Thanks, Hamilton." He handed you the handle of the rolling bag with a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Philip."

"Thanks, Philip," you corrected yourself with a sigh, your tone softening slightly due to the sincerity of his expression.

"Don't mention it." He winked, pulling his bag to walk past you, but slowed as he came next to you, leaning down slightly. "Enjoying the view back there, though, hm?" he asked under his breath, and your head snapped up, eyes wide, to look at his smug smile and raised brow.

You suddenly felt as though the wind had been knocked out of you, stomach doing a somersault. He was close to you -- too close -- and a teasing, mischievous glint shone in his honey-brown eyes, as your head began to spin. You didn't like how close his mouth was to yours, especially as your gaze trailed down to his lips, pushed to the side in a lopsided smirk.

You immediately caught yourself, though, snapping your gaze back to his eyes. Fuck, you hoped he hadn't seen that. His raising his eyebrows even more (if even possible) told you that he absolutely had. He chuckled as you shivered, swallowed roughly, looking away, and the moment left as quickly as it came.

"Shut it, Philip," you grumbled, pulling your suitcase past him, and you could only imagine his grin as he followed you to the front door.

Though you beat him to the door, he was the one to press the doorbell, resting a hand on your waist as the two of you waited for an answer. You elbowed his arm off you with a frown, and he mocked your expression.

"What?" he asked defensively, and you scoffed.

"You know what; don't be an ass," you warned.

"You're here as my girlfriend; you should be fine with some affection, babe," he said teasingly, and when you glared up at him, added, "Come on, Y/N, lighten up."

"I'm starting to question whether this was worth missing the Campbell interview," you muttered. He chuckled, again wrapping an arm around your waist, and while you sighed, you didn't bother brushing it off as the door in front of you opened.

"Philip!" What appeared to have previously been an exhausted face lit up at the sight of the pair of you, immediately rushing to pull Philip into a tight hug. He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and she pulled away with a wide smile. "Oh, it's been so long since you've been home! How long has it been?"

"'Bout two years now, huh?" he said, his smile matching hers, and she nodded happily.

"Oh, I've missed you," she sighed, and he pulled her into another hug, kissing her forehead.

"I missed you too, mom."

Finally, she pulled away, beaming, and turned to you.

"Oh, you must be Y/N!" She, in turn, pulled you into a bone-crushing hug which caught you entirely by surprise, "It's so great to meet you; we've heard so much about you!"

You, of course, entirely returned the hug, but looked over her shoulder to Philip with a raised eyebrow, and mouthed, 'She has?' His face tinged red at this, and he hardly met your gaze, despite you staring him down over his mother's shoulder.

"I'm thrilled to meet you, too, Mrs. Hamilton," you replied as you pulled away, your smile genuine at how sweet she was. She scoffed.

"Please, call me Eliza. Everyone's family once they're under this roof." She brushed the formality aside as she turned back to address both of you. "Well come on in, then! I don't want you standing out in the cold forever."

You shrugged and followed her in, thanking her quietly for holding the door, excruciatingly aware of Philip's hand resting at the small of your back, despite him carrying both his and your bags.

As he turned to pull the last bag in through the door, you let out a quiet gasp at the room that lay before you. Even from the front of the entryway, you could see the lavish, vintage-looking staircase that wound around the side of the room up to the second floor, the chandelier suspended from the high ceiling, crown molding where anything met the ceiling or the walls. To say the least, his house was gorgeous.

"Alex! Get in here! I told you it was Philip," she called into the doorway to the next few rooms over. When she was met with silence, she scowled. "Back in a minute," she said softly, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice. As she left the room, you turned to Philip, who chuckled lightly.

"So that was Mom."

"So I gathered," you chuckled, "I'm getting the feeling meeting your family might be an even wilder ride than pretending to be in love with you."

He grinned. "'Course it will; the second one doesn't need any effort." He shot you a cheeky wink, and you scowled.

"And immediately you remind me why I so desperately didn't want to come. I retract my previous statement," you huffed, and he laughed. Then, a thought struck you, though. "So your mom's heard, what was it, 'so, so much about me'?"

There was a skip. He opened his mouth to reply to you, eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he looked down at your expectant expression, your quirked brow, but he was saved by the bell. Or, really, by the overly-tired-looking father.

Despite the fact that he looked like he could be completely knocked out at any moment, his eyes lit up at the sight of the pair of you when he walked in with Eliza, both beaming. Holy shit; Philip's dad Alex was that Alexander Hamilton? "Philip! Y/N!"

Philip grinned back at him, moving to greet him. "Hey, Pop." He pulled him into a brief, but genuine, earnest hug.

"It's great to finally see you! I had no idea when you were coming home, if at all," his dad laughed indignantly as they pulled away, whacking his shoulder lightly. "First you move out of my house, next you stop sending me your writing; hell, I'm just now meeting the girl you've been dating for years."

"Pop," Philip groaned lightly, his smile not fading despite it, "I'm not just some kid anymore, alright?"

"Oh, please," he scoffed, "You're still my son; I reserve the right to be nosy."

"Pop."

"Anyway," his dad segued, clearly suppressing a laugh at Philip's annoyance as he turned to you. "So you're Y/N, hm?"

You smiled. "I am, in fact. It's good to meet you, Mr. Hamilton."

"Not as good as it is to meet you!" he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug as well. "And call me Alex. We were wondering if we'd ever actually get to meet you, or if Philip was just planning to hide the girl he's head over heels for from us forever." He scoffed, chuckling as he pulled away. "We were starting to think this was all just an elaborate ruse."

"If only," you sighed, shaking your head with a small smile, "I still can't figure out why, but I really have been dating for him for the past two years. I'll let you know when I regain my better judgment."

He laughed heartily at that, to your delight, resting his hands on his hips as he glanced back at Philip. "Don't worry. When you finally do, he'll be the one out of family dinners, not you." That elicited a laugh from you, just as his smile sharpened, his eyes narrowed. Uh-oh. That expression, if anything, meant business. "So the two of you work together, hm? What's that like?"

You sighed, maintaining a weary smile as you glanced at Philip, who only gave you an amused, expectant look. "It's... a lot. Stressful, at times. But ah... I love the job, the work. We love what we're doing. And besides, we make a pretty good team, so I suppose I can't complain."

"And you two met through work?"

"Yeah, 'bout five years ago," you chuckled, tucking a (still damp) hair behind your ear. "He started bringing me coffee every day, a few weeks in, and it took me more than a month to even realize he was just using it as an excuse to come talk to me." You glanced over at him, wearing a smug smile, and his jaw dropped slightly, expression mockingly indignant.

"Wait a minute, you never told me you figured that out," he huffed, and you grinned.

"C'mon, don't act like you weren't glaringly obvious."

"Five years, huh?" Alex interjected once again, "So why'd it take you kids three years to finally get together?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but that was when you realized he and you had (grudgingly, but luckily) fabricated answers beforehand to most things about your relationship, but had entirely forgotten to cover this seemingly obvious plothole. Noticing your slight surprise, Philip took the question, looping an arm around your waist with a grin. Your skin jumped under his touch, body tensing up.

"I think that one's on me," he chuckled, and you tried not to focus on the pads of his fingers pressing into your hip, forcing a smile, "Thought I was being pretty obvious, but not obvious enough, I guess. I spent too much time afraid to make the first move, figured she wasn't giving me anything back 'cause she just wasn't into me."

"To be fair, sitting on my desk and knowing my coffee order aren't exactly the most forward moves," you huffed, giving him an unintentionally tense smile.

"Sounds like you need to step up your game then, son." He grinned, and you heard Philip huff, could feel the warm breath fan across your shoulder. A chill ran down your back. "So you're a writer, then, Y/N?"

"Guilty," you chuckled, "I mostly edit work to be published, though. A lot of memoirs and longer thought pieces." As he pursed his lips, nodding, you remembered what you'd been sitting on, wanting to say since he walked in. "Speaking of memoirs and though pieces, though, I guess now's probably as good a time as any to mention that I'm a huge fan of your work. I don't think I made the connection from him," --you nodded to Philip, who raised an eyebrow-- "to you," --you nodded to Alex-- "until I finally met you, actually."

His eyes lit up at this; mentioning it was clearly the right decision. "Ah, really? What've you read of mine?" he asked excitedly, and you grinned.

"Just about everything," you admitted with a shrug, "I've gotta say, though, my favorites were your essay series about laissez-faire economics and where the extent of the federal government's powers actually need to fall to protect citizen's rights, and your recent book about federalist economic policy and how, to survive, it needs to adapt to the times."

"You've already read my recent book?" he asked, his grin widening, and you nodded. "What'd you think, specifically? Was it too long-winded? Is there anything I should've reconsidered?"

"Oh god, no," you sighed, "It was great. The length was necessary; there was nothing you could've mentioned without having gone as in-depth into it as you did, and it really left you with a clear understanding of even the little details of economic mechanics. I wish I'd had your book when I was taking econ in college, to be honest."

"You studied economics?" He raised an interested brow.

"Yeah, I--"

"You did?" This was when Philip finally interjected, his voice reminding you of the fact that his arm was still very much anchoring you to the side of his body. You glanced up at him, nodded.

"It was my minor during undergrad," you explained. "Shame I didn't end up doing more with it, but writing was really my passion. Then again, the understanding of economic policy it gave me was a lot of the reason I supported you so adamantly when you joined Washington's cabinet during his first term," you said, turning back to Alex with a smile, "So I don't know if I'm the most objective critic of your book, seeing as I agree with you on just about all of it."

"Can't blame you for being right," Alex shrugged, "Any chance you've read the works of Thomas Jefferson?" You groaned.

"Oh my god, have I. Don't get me started on--"

"Hey, love?" Philip intervened, looking down at you with a small, tight smile. You looked up at him, your expression frozen midsentence. "It's pretty late; I'm getting kinda tired. You mind if we head up to bed? Not to interrupt this chat, but uh..."

Alex got the message, immediately reacting. "That's my bad, got carried away with the politics talk," he chuckled. "It was great meeting you Y/N. Hope I can get to know you more this weekend."

That elicited a grin from you. "Nice meeting you, Alex. And you too, Eliza. I'm looking forward to getting to know you both more, but hopefully when the sun is up and I'm not still wearing clothes soaked in rain."

Eliza smiled sweetly, leaning forward to squeeze your arm. "You as well, dear. Now go, get some rest so you're both awake enough to interact with the rest of the family tomorrow." She shooed you off with her hands, and Philip laughed, lightly squeezing your side. You flinched.

"Alright, see you two in the morning," Alex said with a smile and a wave, and you raised a hand in farewell as you grabbed your bags, walking along with Philip when he jerked his head toward where you were staying, motioning for you to follow him.

"Your parents seem nice," you said softly as the two of you turned a corner. He chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, they are," he agreed, "But it does help that they like you by default 'cause we're dating." He shot you a wink, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"'By default,' my ass," you scoffed. "Your dad was grilling me back there!"

He laughed. "Yeah, sorry about that. Pop's extra cautious with the girls I bring home. I've dated a few too many gold diggers for him not to be." He lead you up a flight of stairs toward the back of the house, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh, yeah." He sighed, carding a hand through his hair. "And I don't think me constantly avoiding bringing you to meet him was too helpful."

"I’m here now, aren’t I?" you said. He pursed his lips, eyeing you skeptically, and you shot him a sly grin. "Don’t worry about it, I have a way with parents." At that, he let out an amused huff.

"You're tellin’ me.” Philip scoffed, shaking his head as he creased his brow at you. "I can tell Mom and Pop both already love you. Not sure what you did to deserve it, though, but they do."

"Everyone does.” You shrugged, not bothering to fight the smug grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth. You eyed him for a moment, before adding, “Honestly, though, I can’t pretend I’m not relieved.”

“Why? Did you think they didn’t like you?”

“Nah, I just...” You gave a small shrug at his inquisitory gaze, continuing down the hallway. “Was kinda worried they weren’t gonna. I dunno.”

"Really, now?" Philip asked, brows raised as you neared your room, a teasing grin playing at his lips. "What, were you worried about them comin' in the way of our relationship? ‘Cause I can promise you that you have nothing to worry about." He shot you a wink with that, and you could only roll your eyes. You seemed to be doing that quite a lot.

"Don't be an ass," you mumbled, and he only laughed. As you reached the room, he opened the door for you, and you thanked him quietly as you entered.

"'Course, princess," he said nonchalantly, following you in as you shot him a glare over your shoulder. "What?"

"Don't fucking call me that," you grumbled, and he groaned.

"I thought we'd already been through the whole pet names ordeal, love," he sighed, "Am I really gonna have to go through them again?" Your eyes widened and your face burned, remembering where him joking about pet names in the car had quickly gone.

"No," you said quickly, and he grinned.

"Remember how that went last time, huh?" he asked, "Offer's still out on the table if you wanna take it, just to let you know." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively with that, and you scrunched up your nose.

"Don't be gross," you scoffed, dropping your bags off to the side of the room. It appeared you were staying in Philips childhood room; the decorations were fairly sparse, polaroids and photo strips littered on tables and stands and frames. You immediately gravitated toward the bed, though, not hesitating to fall backward into the thick navy duvet.

You let out a deep hum of contentment as you sank into the thick duvet, your eyes dropping shut, and heard Philip chuckle as the bed dipped next to you.

"Your bed is nice," you murmured, cracking an eye open as you turned your head toward him. He was already looking at you, and only rolled his eyes with a snort.

"Yeah, and you're gonna get it all soggy if you don't change," he laughed, and you groaned.

"Let me enjoy things, Hamilton." He rolled his eyes as you reluctantly pushed yourself up with a heavy sigh.

"Sorry sweetheart, but I'm not exactly looking to sleep in a wet bed tonight," he huffed as you grabbed your bag, propping it on his desk chair as you began to root through it. You paused with a raised eyebrow as you looked over at him.

"You... Sleeping in..." you wondered out loud, confused. If he was sleeping there, where were you supposed to sleep?

The obvious answer hit you like a bag of rocks, and you scowled. You had gone home with him as his girlfriend of two years, so of course the two of you were sharing a bed, you thought as you dropped your head with a light groan.

Philip chuckled. "What, sweetheart? Didn't think we were sleeping in the same place?"

You frowned, unwilling to meet his laughing eyes. "No, I just..." you began to defend yourself. What had you thought, though? He clucked his tongue, shaking his head with a grin.

"Hm, sounds about right." He glanced over at you, a smug expression adorning his tired face as he shot you a wink. "Stuck with me all weekend, sweetheart, better get used to it."

All you could do was scowl as you withdrew dry clothes from your bag. "Yeah, I don't have to like it, though, Hamilton."

He creased his brow. You would have nearly been concerned at the severity of his heavy brow if not for the mischief shining in his eyes. "Who?"

You held his gaze for only a moment, looking back over your shoulder and deciding how misguided murder would be right now, and whether Patsy would be willing to help you hide the body when you arrived home. Instead, you opted to take a deep breath, refusing to enable him -- or, for that matter, to correct yourself. He seemed equally pleased at your reaction as you went to his attached bathroom to change, though, his satisfied chuckled unable to be mistaken as it carried over your shoulder.

"Anyway, even if you're not gonna budge on the name when it's just us, you've gotta get comfortable with the PDA." Your brows shot up from behind the bathroom door as you peeled off your wet clothing, your eyes widening.

"Hm?" It was too late by the time you realized your voice had high-tailed it up an entire octave, but if Philip noticed, he didn't mention it. He only scoffed audibly.

"C'mon, you know what I mean," he sighed, and you could hear him moving around the room behind you as you pulled on dry pajamas. "Flinching every time I touch you isn't quite how to sell a relationship."

You huffed as you finished pulling your shirt over your head, going to open the bathroom door. "Well, sorry I didn't exactly see it coming," you said bitterly as you walked back in, tying your damp hair up into a bun. "You caught me off guard."

When you finally glanced back over at Philip, he was watching you with slight skepticism evident in his expression, and a whole lot of abs evident on his stomach. Your breath caught in your throat; why the fuck didn't he have a shirt on?

"You're gonna have to get used to it," he said matter-of-factly, pulling a pajama shirt on. How dumbstruck you were must have been obvious, though, and you were having trouble focusing on what he was saying as he chuckled at you. "Y/N?"

Your gaze snapped immediately upward, and you realized you must have looked like a deer in headlights as you met his eyes. "What?" He grinned as you felt heat creep up the back of your neck.

"Said you're gonna have to get used to being caught off guard." He chuckled, standing up and brushing past you on his way to the bathroom, leaving you dumbstruck. "And considering where you're at, you might wanna start now."

Your face burned as he shot you a wink, but you just scoffed, rolled your eyes and played it off as best you could. "Whatever."

You ultimately ended up crashing in his bed while he finished brushing his teeth, turning over and pretending he wasn't little more than a foot behind you. Your heart hammered as you felt the mattress dip behind you, didn't dare open your eyes. He lowered himself into the bed with a sigh, pulled the other end of the sheets over himself.

"So," he finally said, his voice soft, surprising you. You turned over onto your back, craned your next toward him with a raised brow. He gave you a small smile, just the corners of his lips quirked up, and raised his eyebrows. "You much of a cuddler?"

You groaned, shoving his chest before you rolled back over.

327 notes · View notes

fmlfpl · 4 years

Photo

Lineup Lamentations - GW16

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week!

—

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Pope and Robertson

IN: Schmeichel and Pereira

Buying two defenders from the best defense in the league seems good.

Going to hold fire on Trent after the emotions faded with the passage of a little bit of time since the pod. I still have problems, but hey, what else is new? Not owning only one Leic player like an absolute fucking idiot anymore will probably not be bad or maybe it will be bad I'm not sure. We'll see.

GK:

Schmeichel (avl)

Free at last.

Not owning Pope anymore is great feels. Schmike doesn't make saves for his fucking life but whatever. I had the money for him and since all the expensive players are shit this year I didn't feel the need to pinch pennies here.

DEF:

Kelly (wat)

Nowhere to start in defense other than Martin Kelly.

Absolute god and legend I love him so much. Get in there Martin you're the best.

Alexander-Arnold (bou)

Trent remains...whatever. Hopefully he doesn't start so I get some points off the bench.

Pereira (avl)

New friend Ricardo is in there. Don't think I've ever owned him in FPL before and don't really have a lot of feelings towards him or about him. Seems fine, whatever.

Lundstram (nor)

Pointstram has not been pointstramming lately but they still have good fixtures and he's still playing as an attacking midfielder. No issue being patient with him.

Good fixture and I don't really buy "Norwich are good again" they have looked shit by my eye getting bossed and just happened to finish their extremely small quantity of chances they have created.

MID:

De Bruyne (MUN)

Kev has the darb..not great..but at least it's at home.

Could see him picking up a return and still fine to hold him for the long term not think much about it.

Son (BUR)

Swan looking fine hopefully he starts and expecting them to boss Burnley to fuck this weekend. Already thru in UCL so hoping he just rides the horses this weekend.

Özil (whu)

Finally is Ozil.

Still hate to see him stuck on the left wing but I love him and he makes me happy so I will stand by my man in opposition of stats and reason.

FWD:

Kane (BUR)

Maybe Kane will be good tomorrow against Burnley? Who knows. Just seemed like less of a priority to turn him into Alli than doing the GK and defense moves. Could always get a brace with some lucky shit and a pen although he is on borrowed time.

Lacazette (whu)

Laca also just looks like a very bad pick. He's probably more of a problem than Kane if we're honest here, but with a good fixture I didn't really want to take a hit in a GW where we might see rotation.

Vardy (avl)

Last guy is Vardz obv. Nothing to say about that.

CAP:

Son (BUR)

Swan cap this weekend for me. If Kane out points him I'll be beside myself, so I should probably spend the rest of the night preparing for this to become my reality tomorrow.

—

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Connolly, Salah, Gazzaniga

IN (for -4 points hit): Abraham, Alli, Ryan

The hits are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Uhh yeah so I finally got rid of Mo and I returned to the elite Tammy and I got Alli who is great and Ryan who is great so that seems great.

I guess I should address not going for Mané and instead spreading the funds around especially as me and Pod Partner both agreed that Mané is very clearly the best mid in the game... I just don’t know what Liverpool are up to for the month of December besides picking up lots and lots of points they also will be rotating a TONNNNN as Klopp did last season and this season there are even more matches. I’m not confident in Mané starting tomorrow after playing all of the 90′s and I’m not sure who is gonna start when and who is gonna get subbed early when and long story short it makes me not think of Sadio as a cap option and so I’m like just gonna enjoy the club I support being great and fuck’em off in FPL for now... I always underrate my teams and so whatever I get to just love all of the Liverpool players and be happy when they score and not think about’em for FPL. Whatevs.

And lastly I used to think that taking a -4 for a GK transfer was diabolical, after all, you only have the chance (over one week) to nullify the hit with a clean which would be ridiculous to nail in one week so it’s dumb. But despite being the lowest scoring position in the game by far it’s also the position we blindly hold for longest stretches of time so hitting out a GK who sucks dick (Gaz) for a keeper who shits bonus points on a team I love (Ryan) is actually very obvious... Brighton have good fixtures basically until March (similar to Palace’s) so over the next 15-20 GWs four points is absolutely nothing... Will I finally make a good GK transfer? Probably not so I am sorry to all other Ryan owners.

GK:

Ryan (WOL)

Wolves at home is definitely a cleanable fixture they’re a middle of the table attacking side and Brighton should boss possession.

Either way Ryan is capable of save points and bones so I’m just hoping this guy called Mat with one T from Australia can save me from my black hole of GK picks preceding.

DEF:

van Dijk (bou)

VVD just is not a good pick right now because Liverpool isn’t capable of keeping cleans right now. At least he’ll play every match in the pileup and can score a goal vs anyone. Here here to more VVDongs.

Lundstram (nor)

Don’t really expect a clean here and Sheff are in a bit of a rut but Lundy is always capable of an assist or goal and Norwich suck at defending so hoping he finds a return somehow someway.

Söyüncü (avl)

Also don’t really expect a clean here at Villa Park which is always turned the fuck up especially against the flying Leicester side.

That said, Leicester have been easily the best defensive side in the league this season and therefore you start your Leicester guys.

MID:

Alli (BUR)

New bro ready to fuck.

Excited to own Alli who is flying atm. Home Burnley is a decent attacking fixture and Spurs could score ~4 here.

Pulisic (eve)

He passes every test there is stats, expected stats, eye-test, but the points have not followed... Generally that means that the points are coming and away to Everton is a fabulous fixture to break one’s duck. Go on Puli.

Maddison (avl)

So Maddo I guess at this point I’m relatively content to just hold. I don’t fucking know man...

The points will trickle in and Leicester are good and he’s good.

De Bruyne (MUN)

Kev will break outta the funk eventually and even though City aren’t flying atm like they were earlier they will also hit their stride eventually. Maybe putting four passed Burnley was the jumping off point but we’ll see I guess.

Still feel fine with Kev and he will still trickle in points.

FWD:

Kane (BUR)

Probably Kane’s final game in my side. Him out for a hit with this fixture just seemed stupid. Could easily brace even though he’s a donkey piece of shit.

Vardy (avl)

Yeah yeah.

Abraham (eve)

Good to have Tammy back. Fucking ridiculously stupid and annoying that he didn’t price drop by like 0.5 but whatever he’s back in my side and fine.

Great fixture and I always expect him to return against all the minnows.

CAP:

Vardy (avl)

Almost talked myself into going differential cap but honestly my rank is 5 billion so I’m competing with probably lots of teams who are not on Vardy cap so the points are actually significant for me...

Trying to not be a total nightmare idiot and put some respect on my name but that’s probably a joke and I’ll probably see red again.

Hate this game and life.

—

RANDOM SLACKER OF THE WEEK: TIOCFAIDH ÁRNAUTOVIC

The words of Random Slacker are not officially endorsed by this website nor any employees of FML FPL LLC.

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Tomori, Pope

IN (for -4 points hit): Kelly, Guaita

A -4 this week, my third hit of the season and it doesn’t feel GREAT. If I’m being honest I was drinking and made the moves on a whim when I could have easily rolled this week but hey hits are fun right???

Last weeks nightmare of rico > PVA resulted in net negative points but brought me a lot of joy no longer having Rico AND it just made me even more excited about the perversity of all the Palace D. Unfortunately seems like PVA could be out for a while but I’ll deal with that later, Chelsea cleans look shaky at best and Pope has to go, WOY IN.

GK:

Guaita (wat)

New keeper new life, hoping for 6 points, expecting 2. Maybe 2 bad fixtures until late March? Absurd run… I was raised by protestants so they’ll be extremely happy Pope’s gone.

DEF:

Söyüncü (avl)

Seeing a direct correlation with xUmlaut and xCleans. Love this man and after several benched cleans he’s nailed his way into my team. Decent fixture away villa, a lot of aways for my 11 this week… lets hope my boys are in the mood to travel. I hear Birmingham’s lovely this time of year.

Alexander-Arnold (bou)

Doesn’t feel great, cleans are a thing of the past around Merseyside but loves to pop up with returns… something tells me this might be the week the clean curse is broken. Or fucking Solanke will dong idk logic left the rooms weeks ago, but for now Trent stays.

Lundstram (nor)

Sheff D looking slightly concerning recently yet the hero of this season is in my 11 every week and it’ll take a lot for that to change. Pukki will wipe the clean as per but Lundy will do bits, he always does.

Kelly (wat)

PVAs injury means I can’t quite reach the heights of perversity I’m aiming for but double Palace D has the semi ready and rocking. We’re only at half mast today sadly but my body is ready.

MID:

De Bruyne (MUN)

A lot of people dropping Kev right now, seems fine but my gut is telling me hold is the way to go. Money is aplenty anyway with all the budget options flying around he’ll tick. Can see double figures this week, expecting City to demolish United.

Son (BUR)

Son’s always good to me, he always has been and always will.

Playing a bit wider than I’d hope under Mou but I trust the points will come. He’s just good! Alli may be the way to go but feels good having a share of the Spurs mids and I’m pretty confident this a medium term hold at least, unless Mou makes some drastic changes.

Mané (bou)

Lotta games coming up and a massive one for Pool midweek, this is prime time for a rest… but everyone has him anyway so no biggie. Starting but not capping feels the way to go. A 20 minute performance could see a brace with easy against Howe’s boys anyway.

FWD:

Aubameyang (whu)

This was a very knee jerky 3 game punt and I’m lucky he’s done anything for me. Got the extremely lucky brace then a blank. He’s reverse OOP on one of the worst Arsenal sides I’ve ever seen. Any return and I’ll be ecstatic, no clue what could happen in a London derby with W. ham, could be a 1 pointer, could be a hatty – Anyway always good to have a big hitter in the last game, it gives you hope and often there isn’t much else to keep you going.

Ings (new)

This guy…this man has returned every game I’ve owned him. Over 30 points in the last 4 GWs for a budget price. What more can you want? I don’t think he stays for long no way his toothpick bones holds up to the festive fixtures but more than happy to run him out again. Lotta love Danny <3

Vardy (avl)

Does anything need said at all? We live in turbulent times, one thing I can rely on in a Vardy return. No shit will be chatted from myself.

CAP:

Vardy (avl)

No fucking about this week, double Palace D, Ings, Son and Auba are where I’m looking to gain ground. Going out tonight so I’ll be on the WKD. Ready for the party that never ends.

#lineup lambs #lineup lamentations

0 notes

hollygopossumlovesj2 · 7 years

Text

Come Back Down, Part 13

Title: Come Back Down Part 13

Rated: PG-13 for cussing, etc

Summary: Jensen and Y/N get an unwelcome, unexpected visitor.

A/N: Thanks for being patient with me. I finally saved enough to purchase a really cheap lap top and will hopefully be able to write and post a lot more efficiently for here on out. Thanks for reading my stuff! (Also, kind reminder that my views are not necessarily reflected here, but I needed a villain. Don't roast me please.)

Tagging: @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyxx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @tiffanycaruso, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @jensen-gal, @theoneandonlysaucymo, @27bmm, @callmesatansprincess, @hbenth, @atc74, @wheresthekillswitch

Master List (if you need to catch up)

The face that confronted me from Y/N's front door was definitely not one I'd been expecting. "Danneel?" Just saying her name made rocks grind around my insides. Judging by just her expression, this was not going to be good.

"Jensen, so not surprised to see you here." Her tone and expression were completely sardonic, one finger twisting rapidly around a piece of hair. She didn't pause before she pushed past me to slip through the doorway and into the living room. "Hm," she gave it a bored appraisal. "Kind of quaint, isn't it?"

"Who is it?" Y/N hobbled around the corner in a loose tank top and a pair of her tight yoga shorts. The ones that barely covered her perfectly round ass. The tank top that Y/N was wearing perfectly showcased the hickies I'd managed to give her the night before. Fresh bright red and deep purple bruises in the shape of my mouth. "Oh." Y/N appeared dumbstruck for a moment before she snapped back into a more confident one, a smile on her face.

Danneel spared me a look, probably seeing the strange guilt I felt for what I'd been up to for the past few weeks, before turning back. "You look like you're getting around better." She was feigning nonchalance, but I could tell there was anger just beneath the surface.

"Uh, yeah. Better than being in a ravine." She offered cheerfully with a shrug before motioning to the couches there. "Where are my manners, have a seat! Can I get you something to drink? I don't have any sparkling water, but I have some coke or orange juice?"

Y/N was taking charge and it was a sight to see as I still stood dumbstruck. Y/N had apparently remembered her Southern roots. Danneel seemed a little stunned herself as she followed the underlying command in Y/N's tone and took a seat.

"I'm fine, thank you." Danneel answered primly, visibly getting her confidence back. "I just need a moment with Jensen." The alone was implied but Y/N probably heard it loud and clear.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, I just need him to help me with something in the kitchen... Still a little gimpy." She motioned to her still cast encased arm. "Then he's all yours." Y/N seemed relaxed rather than having as hard a time as I was at having Danneel in Wyoming.

Danneel had never come here, it was always Y/N making the flight or drive to meet up with me. She'd never had any inclination of visiting a ranch. In fact, I could envision the way she'd handled walking in the gravel driveway in the heeled sandals she was wearing.

Danneel consented with a nod, but Y/N never saw it. She'd already began hobbling her way into the kitchen without even as much of a second glance in my direction.

I nodded once in approval before I quickly followed behind her, my eyes still wide from the original surprise. I immediately started to apologize, my voice a harsh whisper in the now silent house. "I had no idea she'd... oh my God what is she doing here?" I was about two seconds away from a panic attack.

"Hey, calm down. Take a few deep breaths, it's not so bad." She spoke calmly and clearly, her hands a welcome weight on my arms. "It's gonna be okay." Then, she smiled at me, a warm reassuring smile that warmed me down to my toes. She waited for me to take a few measured breaths, her right thumb running circles on the thin skin underneath my arm. "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good." I finally breathed out, feeling my shoulders sag a little.

"Okay, so your ex wife shows up at your new piece on the side's house. No biggie. It's you're territory. You can make this go however you want, Jensen."

She smiled at the way my lips pursed, "Don't call yourself that."

"You're missing the point." She squeezed when she saw me lose focus again. It was like our relationship hadn't changed a bit. This was Y/N, my best friend no matter what and I couldn't be more thankful for that. "Do you want your Ativan?"

I nodded, "Okay," she grabbed me into a tight hug.

"Don't think too hard. You have nothing to hide. This is just between you and Danneel, okay?" She grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and an Ativan from the collection of prescription bottles on her counter. "Take your time." She soothed. Unscrewing the top of the water, she handed both to me with a steady hand.

Y/N was right, this was my territory. I could handle this. So what if I spent the first ten minutes just watching the hallway, waiting for Y/N to save me?

I nodded dumbly, not wanting to face Danneel alone. Which was strange because hadn't I spent a lot of alone time with her? We were married for fucks sake! I nodded again with more resolve and took my first steps into the den. I was a grown assed man, I could handle this.

"I guess you know why I'm here." Danneel began tentatively, turning her head to face me. There was not a thing out of place on her. She wasn't disheveled or in distress. In fact, she looked healthier than ever. It was obvious that the stress wasn't getting to her. But I couldn't for the life of me figure out what she was doing here.

"Actually, I really don't, Danneel. What are you doing here?" I asked, not unkindly. Although, I really wanted to ask her what was so important that she'd be willing to make the drive now instead of when we were actually married.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, seeing Y/N checking on me from the kitchen doorway. I nodded, grateful for the reminder that I wasn't alone. She disappeared down the hall to her room and I ached to join her. To just curl up in her bed that had too many pillows. To feel her close to me and know that I wasn't being judged just for breathing. For my inability to father a child. For my inability to give up my dreams.

She didn't look so confident anymore. In fact, she looked livid. "Is that what this is about, Jensen? You finally get the balls to fuck your best friend? Did you finally get it out of your system? Lord knows it took you long enough!"

Sadly the first thought that popped into my head was 'not yet'. Then, her words finally smacked me right in the balls. "What the hell, Danneel?!" What did she mean by finally? Jesus!

"Tell me I'm wrong, Jensen. Tell me you didn't divorce me so that you could come down here and shack up with her!" Danneel was red in the face, her fists clenched so hard that her knuckles turned white. "You couldn't take time off to fix your marriage but you cancelled all of your conventions the minute Y/N gets a damn paper cut!"

"It wasn't a fucking paper cut, Danneel! She needed me." I was ashamed to admit that I was absolutely dumbstruck again, and it occurred to me a little late that I didn't need to fuel the fire by immediately jumping to Y/N's defense. "No, Danneel, our divorce has nothing to do with Y/N." I began again, calmly, though I really wanted to scream. "We went thru the proper channels. We separated. After the appropriate amount of time, we signed the papers. We handled this amicably and that part of our life is done. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have Danneel, but it's been over. Way before we even thought about it."

"I think you mean I rolled over and gave you what you wanted!" She snapped, standing up now, towering over me in a way that she normally couldn't do. "I came here to talk this over like adults. To handle this outside of the courtroom, but I have to fight for what is right for my child, Jensen."

And just like that all the air was sucked out of the room and we were sitting in a damn black hole. "W-what?" I managed to stutter out, licking my lips because they suddenly felt numb.

"I'm pregnant, moron! So you better get this out of your system and get your sorry ass back home!" If I had been paying attention instead of dying a little inside, I would've noticed that she looked a little victorious about the absolute destruction she was causing me.

When I finally got my voice back it was shaky at best. I was going to need a lot more than just one damn Ativan to figure this shit out. "You're... How... I thought..."

"Yeah, four months. Big shock for me too. I thought I had a stomach bug or an anxiety problem. Turns out, I had an anxiety problem and the wrong kind of bug."

My head was spinning, my breath still getting stuck in my throat. "I've already- I've signed the-" God, I needed to get it together. Why was I so dumbstruck? I was happy, of course the universe wouldn't let me have that for long.

It was now that I noticed the gleam in her eyes, "I didn't." She smiled, getting dangerously close to my face. How could someone so small be so intimidating? "So, technically we're still married. Technically, you stepped out on me and I have the pictures to prove it. So, if you want to keep everything you've ever cared about and not hand over every cent you own for the care of me and this baby for the rest of your miserable life, you better end this. Now!"

Danneel left me frozen on the couch watching everything I'd ever worked hard to earn slipping away while she drove away in her rented Mercedes SUV. How in the hell, after all the times that we'd tried, had she finally managed to get pregnant? I was going to be sick. My stomach was flip flopping with the joy of finally being a father and absolute dread of the situation I found myself in.

I barely made it to the half bathroom off of the kitchen before everything I'd had to eat that day made a reappearance. It took a minute for my ears to stop ringing and my vision to clear before I realized Y/N was where she always was. Right beside me, her hand a reassuring weight on my back and a wet cloth in her hand.

What had I done? "Oh fuck. Oh fuck... I... Shit."

"Shh..." Her fingers squeezed the back of my neck once before handing over a glass of water so that I could rinse out my mouth. She used the wet cloth to wipe my face with gentle, patient swipes.

"She's pregnant. There's a baby." I began haltingly, feeling like my chest might simultaneously squeeze into nothing or hollow out completely, leaving me a culled shell. I backed away from the toilet so that I could lean against the wall. It was soothingly cool on my skin.

"It's gonna be okay, Jay. A baby is good news, you wanted one of those, right?" There was something off about her voice, about how careful she was being but I lacked the brain cells to investigate it further.

"Of course. Of course... a baby. I mean, it's what we always hoped for, but..." I finally glanced up, finding Y/N awkwardly perched on the closed toilet seat. She was close enough that she could run her good hand soothingly through my hair.

"But, what?" She prompted after I'd been quiet for a few moments, her voice completely patient as she waited for my answer.

I felt terrible, that horrible deep ache lingering in my chest like a solid weight. All I wanted to do was rest, curled up with the woman I'd loved in one way or another for the majority of my life. "I just want to lay down with you. Can we do that?" Even to me I sounded pitiful, but I had no energy to reel it in. Y/N didn't need me to be anything else. She'd always been satisfied with whatever I could give her. I was always enough.

"Yeah, let's go." She patted my cheek affectionately.

I brushed my teeth quickly then followed Y/N to what I now considered our bed. It was bathed in soft light from the setting sun. This was where I had last been happy and I wanted to surround myself in it.

I let her get comfortable now that she was able to lay down without her brace for short periods of time, and wordlessly curled around her. My face was tucked into the back of her neck where I could inhale her scent, which was like a balm.

Her hand took up a calming rhythm as she brushed soothingly across my arm that was circled around her waist.

"I love Danneel, I do, but it's not the same anymore." I know my voice was muddled by her hair, but I hoped she could understand me because I needed her to know everything now. "And I will love this baby with all my heart, but I still need you, Y/N."

"I'll always be here for you, you know that." She answered easily, never stopping her rhythm of comfort. But her words made something very clear to me. She didn't expect me to stay and that was unacceptable.

"No, I don't think you understand." I moved my arms so that my hand could cradle her face in my direction. Her eyes were glittering with moisture and wariness that I couldn't stand to see there. "I'm not leaving you. I can still love and raise that baby and keep you too. As far as I'm concerned I divorced Danneel, the only thing she will be to me is a mother to my child. But you, you are the love of my life. I can't lose that."

"And if you can't have both?" She asked quietly, her y/c/e eyes watching me carefully.

"I can have both. I'll make sure of it. I won't lose you, Y/N. Not now. Not like this, sweetheart." I kissed her nose, her cheeks and then finally her mouth, like I had every morning since the first morning I'd woken up in our bed. "I promise."

#Jensen Ackles x Reader #Jensen Ackles/You #Jensen Ackles fan fic #Jensen Ackles drabble #Jensen Ackles one shot #Jensen Ackles series #Jensen Ackles smut #Come Back Down

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