[Y/N] Targaryen meets a certain hedge knight. The two of them forget their oaths, vows and principles in their roles.
Masterlist
Ashford Meadow was crowded. Lords, Ladies, squires, knights all herding around the grounds to set up their pavilions, tend to their horses, clean their armour, and drink to their heart's content.
You paid much mind to the crowds, as it was all you could do, stuck in a carriage, fortunately with, Valarr's wife, Kiera.
She very much kept to herself, stuck looking down at her feet, listening to the knights on their horses outside the carriage window.
You, who originally set off with her horse, and was eventually told to sit beside her good-sister, took note of the silence. You never forced the girl into conversation.
Your own personal Knight, Darren, never strayed far from the carriage.
As the royal family was announced into the Lord's grounds, you helped your good-sister out the carriage, as the helpful servants carried over your boxes of belongings into the Lords castle, into their resigned rooms.
Kiera spotted her husband and quickly walked to him. Leaving you with Aerion and the Kingsguard.
Darren's mare huffed into your hair, which was in a lazy braid down your back, the white hair hidden.
You laughed at the intrusion of the horse, petting her mane, as Darren kept a close on eye on the prince.
Darren cleared his throat.
You looked at him, awaiting a smart joke, only to see him standing perfectly straight, his helm resting heavy on his head.
You then followed his eyes. Aerion seems engaged in teasing towards a simple hedge knight. You sigh and walk over to help the awkwardly stood boy out of his misery.
"Cousin," you speak up.
Aerion looks at you, like a child that was caught stealing lemon cakes. "Ah, sweet [Y/N]!"
The tall man in front of him, looked at you. Those bright blue eyes and light freckles that dotted his face and arms.
"Pay no mind to this squire." Aerion walks closer, almost taking your hand into his.
You move, without flinching, still looking at those blue eyes. The same ones you have had dreams about. "He's far too tall to be a squire, don't you think?"
Aerion scoffs and looks back at the tall man, "All men bleed the same."
You look at your cousin, feeling your lip peel back in disgust by his sentence, which has turned into a natural reflex when speaking to Aerion.
Aerion looks you up and down, rolls his eyes and walks away.
You sigh and look up at the man, who was rubbing a hand through a horses mane. "Are you a squire?"
He looks at you, looks around and then back at you. "Me, your highness?"
You laugh and shake your head, "Well, who else is here? Unless horses are able to be of use to be squires."
He flushes a shade of pink that looks delicious to you. "Ah, no, your highness. I am a Knight.. hedge knight."
You nod and walk closer. "A Knight, nonetheless."
The man nods, looking grateful. "Yes, your highness."
"Does this Knight have a name?" You inquire.
He shrugs. "I fear it's not important knowing."
You shake your head. "Nonsense!"
"Duncan," He clears his throat. "Ser Duncan the Tall."
He gulps. "Dunk."
"Many names for one man," You smile. "Which do you prefer I'd call you?"
Duncan looks away from the ground. "I... Dunk."
"Ser Dunk," You speak. "I am [Y/N]."
Dunk nods and takes a step back, like your presence was almost threatening to him. "[Y/N] Targaryen," his gaze returning to the dirt floor. "Baelor Targaryen's daughter."
You laugh. "Ser, my own titles could be listed but I fear we may be here until the morrow."
He smiles, a light one, but it was there.
"Princess [Y/N]," you look behind you, Darren stood, hand on his sword.
"Yes, Ser?"
"Your brother, Prince Valarr wishes to see you." He bowed and walked away again.
You sigh and look back to Dunk. "Unfortunately, I cannot list my titles until the morrow. I wish we could," you smile. "I wish to see you well, Ser Dunk."
Duncan bows in your direction, as you turn and leave.
As the night grew darker, the tourney became lively and well-lit. As the crowds joined to watch the jousting.
While you enjoyed sparring in your free time and know your way regarding swords and daggers, you had no interest in jousting. Only sitting with your family, to show support for your brother and cousin.
Valarr had competed well.
The night was warm, the dress was sticking to your back. The crowed continue to swarm together.
"Like moths to a flame," Aerion whispers into your ear.
You look at your cousin. "They are interested in the sport."
Aerion smirks. "They wish it were them on these horses with those suits of armour."
"And what of it, Aerion?" You were becoming exasperated.
"All stupid dreams, someone needs to tell them it will never happen." You audibly groan at his response and look into the crowds and see the familiar hedge knight.
As Aerion continues with his rambles about dragons and being dragon-blooded, you never looked away from Ser Dunk.
All of a sudden, perhaps jousting was worth the boredom.
As the tourney continues, you walk, looking at all the houses and their pavilions and with Darren at your side.
While you had knowledge of the houses of Westeros, Darren was much more aware of all small houses, who their Lords were, of which man was participating in the tourney.
"Your knowledge is incredible." You acknowledge, looking at the taller boy, who was trying to play the part of someone older than him. He was only five and ten.
You didn't know much of the boy, only that his Lord father had gave him the option of going to the Wall in the North and becoming a brother, or joining the Kingsguard.
You and Darren had circled around the pavilions, watching as parties began and as knights began to suit up and spoke to themselves to boost their confidence.
Unfortunately, Aerion stood, watching as his prey made her rounds.
"My little princess," he walked forward, his armour on waist down, the top half covered in chainmail and a white linen shirt. "How do you fare, this evening?"
You raise a brow. "What is this new behaviour?"
Aerion shrugs and smiles at you. "Can't cousins talk about their days?"
You nod, looking at Darren, who stood with his head bowed low. "My day is going well so far."
Aerion's eyes seemed softer. "That is good."
You instinctively picked the skin by her nails as they held eye contact. "I hope you do well in the jousting."
You look at Darren, who was already looking at you, waiting for your next move. Deciding to walk on, he follows after you.
Watching as Aerion kills another knights horse has you feeling sick. Your body tensing up, shoulders tight.
Your father reached for your hand, as he noticed the skin of your fingers beginning to go red with blood.
"Sweet girl?" He speaks, quietly and you almost believes it's just you and your father in this world.
Baelor looked at his girl, who has her mother's features in face and person. The same girl didn't look away from the horse, or the pool of blood that was left as it was dragged out of the jousting field.
"[Y/N], my darling," He whispers, now much closer. "The horse is gone. The blood will soon wash away."
The girls nails dug into his hand, as you tightly held his hand back. "Blood doesn't wash away, it stains, papa."
Baelor tuts. "Yes, it may stain, but your cousin is a stupid boy, he doesn't care for consequences."
You nod, finally looking away. "I dream of blood too much, father. It sticks and stains to all, it kills, chokes."
You go to continue but the words choke at your throat. Baelor squeezes your hand and turns to Darren. "Take her back to her quarters, Ser."
"Of course, your highness." Darren takes your arm into his, as he guides you back to your room.
You ate your supper with your family and Lord Ashford and his daughter, Gwin.
As you stood to take your leave and to return back to your room, Aerion caught you at the door. "I wanted to apologise."
You allow him to walk you to a more private area in the halls.
"I was made aware my actions made you unwell. I... [Y/N], that was not my intention. My greed got the best of me." He looked at you with a kindness and sincerity in his eyes that you haven’t seen in many years.
You found yourself looking away from his gaze like a blushing maiden. "It's alright."
Aerion shakes his head. "Let me properly apologise. I wish to take you to a puppet show, I heard they are great performers."
You look up from your shoes, interested in his words. "I love puppets."
The boy smiles and shrugs. "I know."
You stood in front of Aerion, watching the performers use their skills and magic to create a show, with painted puppets and gorgeous costumes. You enjoyed the dramatics, with costume changes, multiple stories and characters.
As the girl changes her costume into a knights outfit, they brought out a dragon puppet which managed to breathe fire out.
You found yourself holding on Aerion’s arm with excitement as the girl begins to fight the dragon and dodge the flames.
It wasn't until the girl killed the puppet dragon that the crowds eyes fell on the Targaryens in the crowd. Aerion moves first.
Before you know it, Aerion is on the young girl, breaking fingers.
You move without thinking and begin to pull Aerion off of her, screaming his name and curses. Aerion stops what he's doing and shoves you off him.
You land on your back, which manages to wind you, as you gasp for air as the girl on the stage screams and cries for help.
You blink and there he is. The hedge knight.
Someone helps you up and holds on to lower waist, she looks down to see a bald head. It's all blurry.
Aerion is soon on his back, bleeding.
"Look at the princess, she is harmed!"
You looks at her cousin as he shouts. He points at you, blaming the hedge knight.
"Ser Duncan didn't do that." The bald head speaks.
"Aegon?" You pull the boy away and looks into those mischievous eyes.
Everything is dizzy, so much happening.
"I want to go home." You speak to no one in particular. "I want my mother." You add, in a whisper.
Your arm is grabbed by a gentle hand. Darren. "Come, [Y/N]."
dunk doesn’t realize how kind he’s raising his child to be until he comes back to you horrifically wounded. he’s leaning on a stick because he nearly lost his leg, his face is entirely numb, and his head hurts to the point he can’t move for too long, or he’ll collapse from dizziness. egg had to keep him upright on thunder; otherwise, he might not have returned as quick.
the hedge knight had faced death once more, yet he is too helplessly bound to you to die.
to die is to give you up, and he’d rather suffer for the rest of his life than welcome the next stage without you at his side.
to die is to leave you with your little boy, and the gods know this child needs his father. you need your knight, and westeros needs ser duncan the tall.
he’s willed his way onto the chair near the fire, his gaze vacant as the flames licked away at the wood. you had roasted an entire chicken for him, but his hunger hadn’t returned. so, you left him where he was, hoping he'd find a bit of peace in the comfort of your quiet cottage. you took your child out to soak in the sun and watch over egg as he fed the horses.
it had been some time since you left. dunk could hear the babbling of his son, and your soft coos in return. the pounding ache in his head softened, even when he heard egg’s voice carry over to tell you he was to go fishing.
after some time, the door opened with a creak. dunk didn’t move, assuming you were coming inside with the children in tow.
“papa?” the small voice was a squeak, a sound of worry that he was too tired to acknowledge just yet. “…papa?”
in the boy’s hesitancy, dunk slowly turned his head. he watched with hazed vision as the little one came over, hands holding onto a few flowers he’d picked. you were nowhere near.
“papa,” he said again, “flowers?”
despite the pain, a tired smile formed at dunk’s lips. his voice was rough, the vibrations tearing at his throat, “flowers?”
“for you.” his boy was gentle, “flowers.”
"...thank you," dunk murmured, watching as the boy lay the flowers onto his thigh. “that's...kind of you, rafe."
"mama says its good,” he chirped.
“good,” dunk echoed. “aye, she’s right.”
“you like them?”
dunk chuckled, and suddenly, the pain felt a little lighter. “yes, i do.”
the boy sat himself down at dunk’s feet, beaming with a smile that made him look exactly like his father. he never knew the hedge knight enjoyed the simplicity of flowers. he hoped to remember it later, but for now, he was quiet. he was content with being close—he'd always been that way, needing to be near you and dunk through every sunrise and nightfall.
that feeling intensified now more than ever at the sight of his father. rafe understood that dunk was badly hurt, understood that he couldn't do much without help. you tended to him, and rafe wanted to follow in your footsteps.
perhaps on the morrow, he’d offer his father the grass itself.
Could I request a Duncan x Reader fic? 🥺 Where the reader is the daughter of a blacksmith, has always seen knights in her daily life, and wants to be like them, or rather, learn to fight, be strong, and honorable.
She meets Dunk when he goes to order new pieces of armor. She's very unusual; she doesn't behave like a lady, but she's kind and funny. She gets along very well with Egg; she even finds them playing "swords" with wooden sticks once.
I don't know, maybe Dunk stayed in the village for some job, tournament, or because a lord needed his services.
Perhaps love begins when he promises to teach her a little sword fighting or how to defend herself against thieves.
I hope I'm not asking for too much 😭
Lady Blacksmith
synopsis; dunk comes to you needing your services, but as his heart so often betrays him, he finds himself wanting much more than your skill.
genre; fluff
pairing; ser duncan the tall/blacksmiths daughter!reader
warnings; none!
a/n; i’m officially back. yippee! this will be a two-parter.
word count; 1.2k
SECOND PART COMING SOON
Standing out in the rigid cobblestone, Dunk searched for a painted sign of a spear and fallen tree. He’d been pointed every which way, every man and woman giving him more riddles than simple instructions. Egg might’ve been by his side to help, but the boy could barely begin to understand half of what the townspeople said.
“Ser,” Egg called at his side, his legs standing still and head turned back. “I think we passed it.”
Dunk followed his line of sight, brows furrowing as he saw the sign moving steadily with the wind. Ah, he wanted to groan. How I’ve forgotten to look up.
“That looks to be it.” Dunk agreed, already falling into step with the boy as they crossed the path over to the steps. He opened the door to let Egg in first and ducked before the arch could take his head.
It was a small shop, yet most were in Dunk’s shoes. Pieces of armor and weapons decorated the room; blades mounted on the wall and kept locked in cases, helms and furred gauntlets lined across tables against the walls. A man stood polishing a dagger at the counter, and he had to double-take at the sight of Dunk.
“Seven above,” he chuckled. “What can I do for you?”
“I need armor, ser.” he offered a kind smile. “There is only so much polishing and a hammer can do to what I have. I…I have coin, but I thought I might be able to trade my scrap to make up for the rest.”
Dunk’s dug out his pouch; his movements hurried as to not waste any more time. He wanted to be quick and mindful of a blacksmith's time.
The man chuckled with a wave of his hand at Dunk’s pouch. “Not here, lad. You’ll need to go back out; the forge is to your left. Talk to the girl in the red apron.”
“The—the girl?”
“She still has much to learn, but she’s taught by the best. Give her a chance.”
Dunk blinked, a girl? The townspeople hadn’t mentioned a woman. Was this her shop? Taught by the best—was this a set up? No, no, don’t be a fool.
“I—aye,” Dunk nodded, taking back his coin purse. “Thank you, ser. I’ll speak to her immediately.”
Egg followed him out, his gaze lingering on all the fine weaponry of the shop. Some, he assumed, weren’t up for purchase. Some looked far too exquisite to be used for the limbs of an enemy. Others he could imagine in his grip, cutting through an army of men that dared challenge him.
They walked along the exterior of the shop, guided by the sound of steel being hammered down to form a deadlier shape. Dunk saw the forge first; its beauty was brought by the melting metals and bubbling heat. He braced himself for the conversation to come, the questions and jabs at his stature that would fill his ears.
Until he saw you and the rack of weapons you filled.
Dunk was met with your back, your dress covered by a black apron, and your hair pinned as to not hinder your sight. He was amazed by the steel you hung onto the stands, the mass great enough for an army.
“…Hello,” he croaked, unsure how else to get your attention. “I mean not to disturb you, my lady. Are…are those your work?”
You turned, gaze falling onto the bald child at his side. Egg smiled at you, finding your expression one he’s seen too many times. As it tended to happen, your eyes followed the hand beside his head, holding onto the hilt of a long sword, and trailed inch by inch.
“Aye,” you answered, brows drawing together, ready to defend your skill. “Who sent you?”
“No one.” Dunk blinked, “I—I’ve come for the tournament. I sent myself, I suppose…I require new armor, m’lady. Was told to come to you.”
“You’re a knight.”
He nodded, “I am, m’lady.”
You looked him up and down, dragging from head to toe the giant that stood before you. Dunk shifted, used to such treatment and yet unable to shake off the awkwardness that lingered in his spine.
“I have coin,” he continued. “And if you’re open, I can trade my old armor. Melt it back down, or…I’m not entirely certain how it works.”
Gods, stop talking.
“..And what of the boy?” your head tilted.
“The lad?” Dunk spared a glance to Egg, who was staring at the mace in your grasp. “He’s only a squire. Trains with what I give him.”
The silence that fell over was deafening. The village was alive, but Dunk wished you would call him a staggering fool and turn him away. Something, anything, for he was too aware of how tight the apron had been tied around your waist.
“Bring your old armor, then,” you decided, and to his surprise, your gaze had softened. “My father taught me to always offer my service to a knight. It is you men who protect those who keep the realm in one piece.”
Dunk was taken back by your words. You offered a kind word, and you had yet to give him a name or an insult. It made his chest feel lighter, and his heart pound a little faster.
“Your father sounds like a good man, himself,” he found his lips twitching up. “Aye, I’ll bring my old armor. I’ll only need a minute, m’lady.”
Without another word, he turned and began to walk off. Egg was right behind him, having to push himself to keep up—before Dunk nearly collided into him by turning back around.
“What did your father mean?” He returned to your forge, and you looked somewhat startled that he came back so quickly. “You said—we knights protect those who keep the realm in one piece. That…would mean our station with a lord and lady, I assume.”
“Is that who is important to you, ser?” The words cut like an accusation, and Dunk felt the heat creep slowly up his neck.
“No!” He denied with a shake of his head, his eyes widening in nervousness. “No, I serve no lord or lady. I…I’m a hedge knight, m’lady. I bound myself to those in need. The weak and weary, the innocent and the young…”
“A knight of the people.”
“For as long as I breathe,” he vowed.
“…Bring your armor, ser,” you declared again. “I’ll see to it you’ll leave with all that you need.”
Dunk nodded once more, and with a lingering gaze, he stepped back to leave. He wanted to thank you; to give you all he had in coin and even offer his squire to help around your forge. But he kept to himself, for he couldn't trust himself with the words he longed to speak. One too many thoughts raced, and he knew he'd say the wrong thing.
"For as long as I breathe," Egg echoed under his breath, his voice teasing and unforgiving. "Ooooh, for as long—"
"Enough," Dunk grunted, battling against the redness spreading over his neck.
The boy giggled with a duck of his head. He knew that no matter what his hedge knight did, there would be consequences in the path ahead.
adrian meets you for the first time, he’s crushing immediately but you’re a little iffy.
warnings: insecure reader, slightly mean reader, reader doesn’t really trust men, adrian’s a bit insecure and nervous too, drinking (takes place in a bar), back and forth between you and adrian’s povs
authors note: please do not interact with my stuff if you’re under 21! you will be blocked!
adrian and chris had been at the bar for at least an hour. it was their regular bar they always met up at after work, usually with the other 11th street kids. but, even with all the hours spent drinking here, adrian had never seen you here before. trust he’d remember that face.
you honestly didn’t look like you belonged there, too pretty, too sweet looking. this dark, dingy bar didn’t deserve to have you in it. he noticed you the second you had walked in. about a half hour ago with your friend, a look on your face that read you’d rather be anywhere else, maybe it was your friends idea to come here, maybe that’s why he’s never seen you. you nursed one drink and chatted causally to your friend sitting across the table from you. adrian, ever observant, didn’t take long to notice a few cute little habits of yours (twirling the same piece of hair, messing with the lemon on the side on your drink, crossing your legs and kicking your foot almost nervously)
“dude, you’ve been staring at that chick for like 20 minutes, it’s getting creepy. when are you gonna go talk to her?” chris’ words snap him out of his daydream.
“what? i have not been staring at her!” adrian tries to defend himself.
“hey man it’s ok! she’s kinda cute. go buy her a drink!”
“first of all she’s way more than “kinda cute”, second of all—“ adrian’s eyes suddenly snap over to chris, who now has a huge grin on his face.
“i knew you were staring at her!” chris laughs, slapping adrian on the back,
“look, i’ve never seen you actually have the hots for a girl before, you need to go talk to her!”
“ew, i dont “have the hots” for her,” adrian grimaces.
“all im saying is if you don’t go talk to her soon….” chris sighs, adrian’s eyebrows pushing together.
“…i’m going to,” he rests a hand on adrian’s shoulder.
adrians eyes go wide.
“please don’t.”
“i’m gonna have to,” chris shrugs.
“no! fine. ugh! i’ll go,” adrian slowly and nervously gets off the shaky bar stool he was sitting on next to chris, reluctantly making his way in your direction.
you saw him across the bar, of course you did. he’s been staring at your friend basically the entire time you guys have been in here. you’re used to guys staring at her, she’s gorgeous.
it’s only a matter of time before he saunters over and cringingly asks to buy her a drink, it happens everywhere you guys go.
you never get hit on and honestly, you don’t really mind. the guys that usually hit on your friend are….unique looking… to put it nicely. and of…. below average intelligence with little to no emotional maturity or respect for women. again, to put it nicely.
you much prefer to be left alone, your distaste for men growing everyday anyway (especially the losers in these bars). it makes you feel bad for your friend even though she doesn’t seem to mind much. ordinarily giving the guy the time of day, for reasons unknown to you.
aaaand here he comes, right on cue!
he’s nervously wringing his hands and adjusting his big silver glasses again and again as he approaches. you stare into your drink, awkwardly stirring the straw as you wait for the usual dorky pick up lines.
“hi, uh, i’m adrian. and i just um…was just wondering if you would be ok with me buying you a drink?” he clears his throat as a beat of silence follows.
god, this guy sounds like he’s never talked to a girl in his life.
the silence drags on and finally, you look over at your friend to see why she isn’t answering him to find her staring at you. with furrowed brows you look up at the man to find him staring at you as well.
you look side to side with just your eyes.
“were you talking to me?” you ask with a monotone voice.
“well yeah,” he gives a small nervous smile and pushes up his glasses again.
you laugh dryly at his response and he presses his hands together again, his shoulders starting to slump, looking like a kicked puppy.
“sorry, this was dumb. i’ll just go.” he mumbles.
“no wait, you’re seriously asking to buy me a drink?” you raise an eyebrow.
“yeah?” his voice shakes a bit.
“why?” you cross your arms.
“why?” he repeats.
“yeah, why?” you stare at him, eyeing him up and down.
“cause…well cause, i think you’re pretty and my friend said that this is what you do when you think a girl in a bar is pretty,” he gestures behind him at his muscular friend who tips his beer bottle towards you with a smile, taking a sip.
you laugh at him again and look him over some more.
he’s actually sorta cute, in a dorky way. he looks like he’d have a comic book collection and unfortunately you’re into that.
“i guess so?” you’re still unsure but you look over at your friend who’s smiling brightly and giving you double thumbs up.
his eyes go wide and his smile stretches across his entire face, “really? sick!” he clears his throat again, “uh, i mean, what would you like? to drink, i mean,” leaning on your table. he’s really trying to be “cool” but it’s not working at all.
you give him your drink order and he shoots finger guns as he turns to make his way to the bar. hitting himself in the forehead with his palm and shaking his head on his way over there.
your friend immediately grabs your hand.
“oh my god! he’s a cutie! and so nerdy! just your type!” she giggles.
you let out a small laugh,
“he’s probably just talking to me cause he was too nervous to talk to you first. 20 bucks says he’ll ask me for your number.”
“what? why would he do that?”
“you think guys don’t ask me for your number?”
her smile falters, “but he seems into you! and he was so nervous, it was so cute!”
“girl, guys are never into me. they don’t ask me out and they definitely don’t ask to buy me a drink,” you tilt your head at her.
“well maybe because you’ve never met this guy! maybe the universe was waiting!” she grips your hand tighter.
“ok that’s a little dramatic for a guy i just met at a bar,” you roll your eyes at her.
“omg he’s coming back! and i “conveniently” have to go to the bathroom,” she winks at you and shoots up out of her chair to leave you alone. your hand extends towards her and you open your mouth as if you’re going to yell at her not to leave you when the man sets your drinks down.
“i’m back!” he smiles brightly at you.
“i see that,” you nervously reach for your drink.
“what happened to your friend?”
there it is.
“what happened to your friend” trying to casually bring her up so he can ask if she’s single.
“i’m not giving you her number. if you want her number you should’ve just asked her, buying me a drink is not—“
“i don’t want her number?” he looks at you like you’re crazy.
“you don’t?”
“no, why would i? am i supposed to? cause i really don’t. i didn’t even notice her there until i walked up to your table, really. why would i ask to buy you a drink and then ask for your friends number, that’s crazy!” he laughs, probably louder than appropriate.
“you’d be surprised how many guys think that works.”
you grab at the stem of the cherry in your drink as he looks at you in surprise.
“is that why you were kinda mean when i asked to buy you a drink?” he asks sheepishly.
“oh, was i mean?” you ask condescendingly, pouting slightly.
“yeah you kinda scared me,” he admits while still smiling at you.
“and yet you still bought me a drink.”
“yeah cause like i said, you’re really pretty. i wanted to talk to you. well actually, to be honest, i didn’t wanna talk to you. i didn’t think you’d talk to me, but my friend kinda made me,” he winces.
“first of all you didn’t say i was “really pretty”, you just said pretty. also it’s great that you’re only talking to me cause your friend made you,” you roll your eyes at him.
“no that’s not why!” he waves a hand towards you.
you stare blankly at him.
“ok technically- if you wanna get technical, that is why. but it’s because he really wanted me to talk to you,” he defends himself, his voice getting a bit higher.
“i wouldn’t stop staring at you and he said it was creepy.”
“you were staring at me?”
“yeah, who else?” he laughs again like you’re crazy for thinking any different.
“it probably was creepy.” you deadpan but then give him a slight smile so he knows you’re joking.
“i wasn’t trying to be!” he whines, throwing his hands up.
you let out a small laugh and then pause for a moment,
“what was your name again?”
“adrian!”
“ok, adrian. what about me is so pretty to you?”
“you want me to tell you what i think is pretty about you?”
you nod, knowing he’s not going to have anything to say and you can prove that he really wants your friend.
“ok…well,” he begins, voice slightly shaky,
“the first thing i noticed was your eyes. they’re so big and pretty, i couldn’t stop looking. i like your outfit too, i don’t wanna sound like a perv but it looks really good on you. also your hair, it looks so soft and shiny. and your um, your lips, they look soft too,” he gets quiet at the end of his sentence but you still heard.
“and you smell good! which i didn’t know obviously until i was near you but still, you smell like a strawberry field!”
suddenly, you can’t look him in the eyes and you can feel your cheeks heating up. good thing you’re wearing blush otherwise he’d be able to see how pink they are right now. you’re not used to people, let alone cute guys, complimenting you.
“oh. well, thank you for the drink,” your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to.
“you haven’t told me your name,” he says after a moment of silence.
“well you haven’t asked, genius,” you cross your arms.
maybe you’re being a bit meaner to him that he deserves but whatever.
“shit sorry! ok, what’s your name?”
you tell him and he repeats it back with a smile.
“did you know penguins mate for life?” he asks suddenly.
“i did know that, actually.” you say, caught slightly off guard by the random animal fact.
“well did you know spiders dance to attract mates?” he leans excitedly towards you a bit.
“so what, are you gonna dance for me?” you laugh and tilt your head at him.
“do you want me to? i can.”
and then he’s out of his seat, next to your table, hands in his belt loops, moving his hips in a circle.
“oh my god stop!” you grab at him, a bit embarrassed, and make him sit back down as you laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt.
“did it work?” he looks at you with big puppy-like eyes.
“that dance was supposed to attract me?” you’re still laughing so much you can barely get the words out.
“yeah! it’s the best one i’ve got! maybe you need to see it again.”
“please no! it worked, okay! i don’t need to see it again!” you force him to stay in his seat, covering your face a bit with your hand.
“ok i-i’ll stop as long as you don’t cover that…pr-pretty face,” he stutters through that line, trying to flirt but he’s obviously not very good at it, grabbing your hand to move it away from your face.
“ew that was so corny,” you scrunch up your nose.
he smiles wide at you in response. his smile is actually really cute, it’s so big it takes up most of his face and he’s got dimples.
damnit.
“did you know crows can remember faces?” he tells you.
“you sure know a lot of animal facts,” you smile at him because it’s weirdly appealing.
“i know so many! i could probably take a test right now and become like a zoologist or something.”
you giggle because unfortunately his big glasses and nerdy facts are charming you.
suddenly, you feel eyes on you. turning to your left, you see adrian’s strong friend still at the bar but now with three other people, 2 women and 1 super tall man, all staring at you guys.
“do you know them?”
he looks over to where you’re gesturing and sighs.
“yea sorry, those are my best friends and coworkers. we come here a lot but they’ve never seen me talk to a girl before so they’re just being nosey. you can ignore them.”
he waves his hand in their direction as if waving them off but just as he finishes his sentence an absolutely beautiful woman with dark braids starts walking over to you.
“hi! my name is adebayo! i’m really sorry to interrupt cause this is super cute,” she points between the two of you, “but i have to steal adrian.” she gives you a sad look as adrian whines.
“nooooo, seriously? why?”
“look, i wouldn’t if it wasn’t important, okay? we have to go.” she gives him a weird look that he apparently understands and he sighs as he starts to stand up.
“sorry, i actually do have to go. i really liked talking to you though,” he pouts.
“it’s okay, i liked talking to you too,” you stand awkwardly infront of him.
“you did?” he says it like he almost doesn’t believe you but you huff out a small laugh and nod your head yes.
both of you smile at each other for a moment too long before adebayo interrupts.
“but you got her number, right adrian?” she nudges him with her elbow.
“oh shit! i would’ve killed someone if i left here without your number.” he laughs and shakes his head.
weird joke but okay.
he fishes for his phone in the pocket of his jeans that look like a dad from a 90’s sitcom should be wearing. you get your phone out of your purse and you swap, typing your number in as he types his. when you trade back he notices you put a little pink heart emoji next to your name and his stomach does a small flip.
he thanks god for ads reminding him to get your number even though, had he forgot, he 100% would’ve just found you and followed you around a bit to see you again. there was no way he was letting you get away.
“well, we really gotta go! nice to meet you girl, you’re adorable!” adebayo smiles as she drags adrian, who hasn’t taken his eyes off you, away. you give him a small shy wave, wiggling your fingers and he copies you, tripping over his own feet as the woman pushes him away.
he meets back up with the team and they immediately leave the bar, harcourt explaining that she’ll go over the mission on the way there. he steals one more glance at you before he’s shoved out the door and he can’t believe that you were already looking at him, your friend back by your side, a big smile on her face, you two no doubt talking about him.
maybe he should feel too needy about texting you immediately but he can’t stop himself. his fingers hit send before he even has his seatbelt buckled in the back of economos’ van.
adrian 🧜♂️: did you know that if the female spider doesn’t like the male spiders mating dance, she eats him?
why the hell did he save his name with the mer-man emoji? he’s so weird, you think as you smile to yourself.
you: good thing i wasn’t hungry
adrian laughs out loud at your response, making the rest of the team look his direction.
“awwww look who’s texting his girlfriend,” chris teases, tousling adrian’s hair.
“she’s not my girlfriend,” he rolls his eyes and unsuccessfully bites back a smile.
“this is so cute,” ads smiles.
“it’s weird. but anyway you need to focus.” harcourt adds, harshly.
adrian pouts but puts his phone away, already thinking about how when this mission is over he’s going to call you and tell you every manta ray fact he knows.
Whatever you do, don’t think about how Neil’s greatest wish was to act so he could “live dozens of great lives”, and because of that he didn’t even get to live one
tags: ASPD! reader, assassin/mercenary reader, smut, casual sex, canon typical violence, fake relationship (at first), eventual romance, childhood trauma, reader is Chris' little sister, Auggie Smith is a pile of garbage
🎯 ----
I wish you joy and happiness. But above all of this, I wish you love...
A dingy basement was where you awoke, back tied to a chair by cable rope, weapons stripped from your costume, Peacemaker and Vigilante sat beside you.
From their faint breaths, you could tell that they hadn’t yet stirred.
Perfect time to murder your brother? Checking the bottom of your right heel, sure enough your captor hadn’t found the hidden knife. Sloppy work, making sure you didn’t move anything but your eyes, you checked the room.
No sign of Senator Goff or that little green karate man.
If you were to lean back on the chair, you'd gain enough leverage to stab into the right vein on his leg and let Chris bleed out to death. Maybe you'd get lucky and Adrian would only wake up after he'd died and you could lie that it was Goff.
Then again why the hell did you care if Adrian knew or not? You had no real attachment to him.
“Come in Precision!” A garbled voice spoke over the comms in your busted helmet. It was Rick, as if this situation couldn't get any worse.
“Can't talk right now.” You muttered back to the comms but it pittered away, broken.
“You're awake? Oh thank goodness!” Vigilante gasped beside you. To your surprise he'd been sitting entirely still, not unconscious like you'd assumed.
Regretfully your window was gone and the knife slipped back into your heel.
“I'm awake too. This fucking sucks.” Chris stated the obvious. He stared at you, eyes glimmering with some sentiment you'd no doubt find pointless.
“But hey, if we don't get out of this and wind up dead I have to ask. Why did you up and leave me and dad like that?” His question somewhat surprised you.
What reason wouldn't you have for leaving? It's not as if you were wanted in that house.
“I thought that was fairly obvious Chris.” You replied, only to be met with his confused, upset, annoyingly square face.
Internally rolling your eyes at your dumbass brother you sighed. He always did need everything spoonfed to him.
“I hated living under that roof with him. Following his orders.” You explained, focusing on the flashing lightbulb at the basement roof. “Killing for him.”
“We didn’t kill for him! We killed for the United States of America! Government jobs, deep undercover stuff like we are doing now. It’s all in the file.” Chris snarled at you, eyes wild and desperate for the words he was spewing to be true.
“Uh-huh, yeah all of those jobs were definitely covert operations performed in the name of the world's best interests. You’re right. I’m wrong. Like always. Hope that helps you sleep at night big bro.”
“Sorry to ruin the family reunion.” A sharp voice cut through the air, and Senator Goff was standing before the trio, a kit of fun tools at his disposal.
Chris tried bartering and intimidating their captor to no avail while Adrian reassured you that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you.
“Too late for that don't you think? I'm already tied up.” You sighed.
Swinging a pair of pliers around, Goff surmised his options. “I think torturing the female might get the information quicker.” Goff supposed.
“I don’t give a fuck about my sister! She’s a total psychopath- do your worst.” Chris huffed.
Typical.
“No, don't take me instead!" Adrian shouted desperately but was flatly ignored.
“Very well, let’s begin.” Goff shrugged, turning back to you.
Tearing off the Precision mask he was met with two cold dead eyes. You'd give him nothing just like in all of your training.
Your glove was drawn roughly away and a set of rusted pliers shoved underneath a fingernail.
Twisting, the nail was wrenched, Chris and Adrian’s eyes widening in fear as it was hanging on by a thread of sinew. But you sat by, staring into Goff’s eyes, not willing to give him the satisfaction.
“You think wrong.” You replied through gritted teeth. This was nothing compared to the torture Auggie had put you through.
True amateur hour over here by the alien wearing a meat suit.
“Damn that's hardcore.” Chris admitted.
“No please stop, don’t torture her, torture me instead!” Adrian begged, shaking his head wildly. “Don’t fucking hurt her!”
Meanwhile your coward of a brother shook his head with a smirk. “Yeah get those two, I'll never break do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Very well, let’s try the loud annoying one next then.” Goff, tired of his whining and your noncompliance, turned to Vigilante, tearing off his helmet.
Adrian started to make stupid expressions to try and cover his identity. He truly was the dumbest man alive.
Jumper cables were hooked up to Adrian's crotch, the sight exciting you. One or two jolts in, Adrian tried to brave it but began to wince. Then he began to have his pinkie toe sawn, an annoying wail leaving his lungs.
“Your torture tools are dull as fuck dude!” He yelped, straining uselessly against the corded restraints. “Please not my pinkie toe that's like the most important one for balance!”
“Will you tell me now that your friend is crying out for your help?” Goff turned to Chris who yawned.
“I won't give up any information. He can take it.” Chris stated, puffing out his chest. Adrian stared back at his so-called best friend in utter disbelief.
“How about you?” Goff tried his luck with you this time.
Honestly you enjoyed watching Adrian like this, his face patched with sweat, blood trickling down his nose. Vigilante, unmasked, dethroned, completely debased, jumper cables hooked up to his balls, put in his rightful place made to grovel like a dog…
You were glad that you were a woman and the lust you felt in this moment was hidden in the recesses of your mind. A nice risque snapshot for you to think upon later when you got out of here.
“Oh Pris, you're speechless and staring at me, she's in total shock. It'll be okay my gorgeous girlfriend, this won't stop me!” Vigilante reassured you, wonderful tears blinking down his cheeks now.
If you got your way you'd lick them off and make him beg for forgiveness. Just as he started to form the words you'd shock him again, shove a rag on his mouth to get some amazing, unfettered silence. Holy shit you had to calm down right now or your chair would become a slip n slide.
“Right, yes, shock. That's the word for it.” You replied flatly, crossing your thighs best you could in the confines of rope.
Chris stared at you squirming in your seat questioningly but thankfully an explosion made a fine distraction. Murn and the rest of the team had broken through and it gave ample opportunity for you to break free with the hidden knife.
There was a moment you contemplated the odds, stab Chris in the neck, Adrian in the chest, leave Goff to the others and book it. But that seemed unwise. They were A.R.G.U.S. operatives who would come after you know, this had to be done the smart way.
With a sigh you undid your own and Chris' ropes, stabbed Goff in the back, reeling back when there was a guttural screech from the man. To the amazement of you three, a blue butterfly ripped out of the man's mouth and floated in the air.
But that was short lived as the explosion set off a chain reaction, Chris shoving you out of the way. You fell into Adrian's arms, still bound to the ceiling that untethered upon colliding with you and the ground.
“Chris?!” You shouted amongst the rubble and dust. Why had he done that? Risked himself like that for you of all people?
“Guys, I think we used way too much of that explosive stuff…” Adebayo shouted from the top of the stairs and another rumble of the foundations agreed.
“He's okay!” Adrian told you, helping you stand up and pulling you away from the wreckage.
“What?” You asked, the whole world was going numb, there was too much noise to make anything out. You were having a complete sensory overload.
“Chris is okay! He's right behind us.” Adrian shouted louder this time and you realised he was getting you to safety.
You'd frozen entirely and without him might've been crushed by the collapsing building. “He's okay.” You repeated, looking over your shoulder there Chris was hobbling behind.
“I'm okay.” Chris gave you a goofy smile, covered in grime, blood and dusted concrete.
“Okay.” You replied coldly and sat in the van, staring out the window trying to figure out what had happened back there.
Losing your edge would get you killed. What the fuck were you even doing?
“I'm never going to be able to walk normally ever again!” Adrian bemoaned, resting his head up against your shoulder for sympathy.
“Then don't.” You pushed him away.
“Some bedside manner you've got there.” Chris scoffed, eyeing you curiously. He could tell there was something off about you, but he didn't know what exactly.
John pulled the van up to drop everyone out at the HQ for some well needed recuperation.
“Why did you do that?” You asked quietly to Chris before getting out of the van.
“Do what?” He raised a quizzical brow.
“Try to save me. That was pointless and nearly got you killed. I would have been fine!” You snapped at him venomously, the others overhearing likely from outside but you didn't care.
“Because you're still my sister.” Chris replied, his gaze troubling you.
“Exactly, that's going to get you killed someday.” You murmured, expecting him to recoil but instead he smiled.
Like something was on your face.
“I get why your nickname is Strawberry now!” Adrian cooed, poking his head back into the van. “Your face is so cute and red when you can't hide that you're angry.”
“Isn't it?” Chris chuckled, then fell silent.
Wordlessly you exited the van and stormed off, and neither of them were game to try and follow you from the livid expression you gave.
That night you tried to relax, take your mind off things by playing some calming video games. Bloodborne was a favorite of yours, but the stupid chiming of your phone going off from Rick interrupted the zen flow you were trying to achieve.
“What?” You answered curtly.
“I'm the one who asks that. What the fuck happened in there?” Rick snapped.
“Aliens are invading.” You replied, phone tucked under your neck as you wrestled won't the controller. “Ever seen invasion of the body snatchers?”
“When aren't they? I don't give a shit. I want Peacemaker dead. Now, do you have an in or not?” Rick demanded.
“I have an in and I'll do you one better. He tried to save my life tonight.” You clicked your tongue in frustration as the boss fight was not going well.
“Glad to hear it. The longer this drags on, the more tabs I need to put on you. By the way, red is a real good colour on you there.” Rick laughed when the line went silent.
You exhaled sharply, staring around the room until you spotted the bug. “Pot plant.”
“One of many.” Rick couldn't hide the impressed tone to save his life.
Continuing to look around your apartment you kept calling out to him. “Bookshelf. Microwave. Back window. Closet. Diploma. Counter. Medicine cabinet.” Finally you strolled into your bedroom and laid down on the mattress. “Finally, bed post. Kinky.”
There was a pause on the other end and some muffled swearing as Rick told off his incompetent crew.
“Sweet dreams, Precision.” Rick sang to you with a grating chuckle. He still had the upper hand.
You answered him by hanging up and smashing the obvious placed bug at your bed frame.
The next morning you woke up with a nice spring in your step. Bandaging the wound at your torn nail bed, the disinfectant stung pleasantly, a reminder you were truly alive.
It was a good day. Your father was in jail after all. And you were going to pay him a visit. While originally it had been Rick's idea to mess with you, perhaps you could make the most of the experience.
Taunting him while trapped like a rat in a cage? You could think of worse past times. Dressing up in your best visiting Daddy in prison outfit, the plan was simple.
Tell Auggie the number he should make for his one call. Rick's cell. Then make fun of the old geezer before sauntering out of there. Rick was a sick puppy wanting further information on Chris from their father to use as blackmail. But whatever.
However when you got to the visitor phone booth, the one with the shit eating grin wasn't you but Auggie.
“So you've got a boyfriend?” Auggie greeted you, making your blood freeze over.
“Where did you hear that?” You rolled your eyes, he hadn't seen you in years and those was his first words to you?
“Yeah, he's in isolation here. Adrian.” Auggie laughed when he saw your eyes widen in recognition.
“Stupid fucker tried to get me to fight him. Have to say that dorky cunt can give a spin kick. Got a few of my guys good.” He had that malicious look you recalled numerous times from your childhood.
Auggie was going to kill Adrian if he stayed in here. On the off chance that you did actually care about Adrian. To teach you a lesson for betraying him.
You recited Rick's phone number, finger tapping at your thigh to try and keep collected.
“What's that?” Auggie scoffed.
“A phone number, call it or don't.” You replied, slamming the phone.
Meanwhile Adrian was sitting in an individual cell, which was nice because he really needed to pee and couldn't do it with the gang banger who kept staring at him.
Sighing partly in relief and in sadness, pants around his ankles, Adrian lamented his morning.
An hour or so previously, he had tried to kill that Nazi asshole for you and Chris once and for all but had failed.
It had been going so well too, he got their attention instantly, sitting at the table of Neo-Nazis trying to bond with them.
"Speaking of sister fucking, I also fucked someone's sister. But it wasn't from my own family tree!” Adrian announced, grinning around the table but no takers yet.
“No, it was Christopher Smith, Peacemaker's sister! I heard that her father Auggie is here and I wanted to make a formal introduction." He continued to yell and finally met his mark.
“Who the fuck are you?” Auggie stood up from his chair, eyeing Adrian up and down, a cold assessment calculating in his mind.
"Hey there, great to meet you pops. I'm Adrian, your soon to be son in law." Adrian grinned, hand outstretched.
"I don't fucking think so pal." Auggie chuckled darkly at him.
"Your daughter seems to think so, she loves choking on my above average sized penis! Blowjobs are like her favorite thing to do for me..." Adrian crudely motioned down to his crotch.
While he hated speaking of you that way as a staunch feminist, he had to rile up your father.
Auggie's eye twitched but he gave no other indication of irritation.
Setting the pitch for his own voice a couple registers deeper and your voice several higher, Adrian continued, "I'm always like woah babygirl can we do something other than fellatio for a change and she's like noooo wayyyy daddyyy I loveee deep throating youuuu!"
He went to simulate some fellatio choking charades but suddenly a firm tattooed hand was gripping his shoulder.
That was when the spin kick came into play and Adrian dispatched the goons. But Auggie wouldn't fight him and the guards dragged Adrian away to isolation.
“Chase, Adrian. You have a visitor.” The prison guard shouted through his cell bars.
“Okay, I'm nearly done tinkling!” Adrian called back with a wave.
Assuming it was one of his buddies to come pick him up, Adrian was floored when he saw you sitting on the other side of the protective glass.
Dashing to grasp the phone, he couldn't wait to hear your dulcet tone.
“Adrian. What in the fuck are you doing here?” You hissed at him through the phone.
“Oh my gosh! My beautiful girlfriend is here, is this my conjugal visit?” Adrian asked hopefully, pressing his hand up against the glass.
Pinching your brow in frustration, you snapped back at him. “No. I was here to speak to my father. He told me you introduced yourself as his future son in law?!”
“Yeah, so I threw a bin at a window. But that was all just a clever ploy to get in here and kill your father.” Adrian explained without really explaning anything at all. It was a real talent of his.
“You were trying to kill him?” Your eyes widened at that.
“Yeah he's not a good guy! Total racist and now that he thinks Chris did this he's gonna want revenge. Also your dad is a sexist pig, I mean that tiny room of yours was so depressing…I'm sorry are you mad at me?”
“Shut up. Stop talking.” You snapped at him. “What's your bail set to?”
It was a measly sum of money to you, forking it over to the bonds office, Adrian was released in a manner of minutes.
“Get in the car.” You told him gruffly when he wandered outside, already starting up the engine.
“Where are we going?” Adrian asked, admiring the fancy leather seats of your Lexus.
“My place.” You replied tensely gripping the steering wheel.
“What for?” He cocked his head to the side.
The entire drive was in silence.
“You're mad with me aren't you?” Adrian pestered you on the way up the elevator to tell him what was wrong. You were staring at him, eyes murderously cold.
“Sit down.” You ordered him sternly, pointing to the couch.
“Please don't break up with me.” He whimpered, and you told him to shut up.
Then to Adrian's utter shock you unbuckled his belt and sank right between his thighs.
“Ohhh fuck…I can't believe you're uhh doing this for me!” Adrian moaned, watching you on your knees, bobbing your head up and down.
The flat of your tongue lapped at his shaft with such a fervent ministration it was making Adrian's head spin.
Giving him a blow job was your idea, hearing that Adrian wanted to kill your father was insanely hot. Also this would help you manipulate him even further.
Besides you still had the comms set up so likely Rick was listening in. Perfect revenge for making you talk to that piece of shit, two birds with one stone.
“Trust me I can't either. Don't ruin the moment. Or I'll bite it off.” You warned him.
“You're so good at this…” Adrian whined, a shaky hand going out to reach for your head.
“Hands behind your back.” You ordered him and he snapped them away immediately.
“O-of course…ahhh oh thank you! You're the best girlfriend ever…” He sang your praises when you took him deeper down your throat.
Adrian couldn't help himself but babble the further you went. “It's ohh wow like I willed this into the universe…when I lied and told your dad and all those neo-nazis that you loved to suck my dick!” He shouted, trying to not buck his hips forward.
Upon hearing that, you spat out his cock with a wet popping sound.
“You what?” Any lust you had for him had instantly dried up like the Sahara Desert.
“I was playing a role! You know acting, trying to get him riled up so I could beat his ass and kill him. But your dad didn't take the bait.” He explained with a dumass laugh.
“Adrian.” You glared daggers at him, wanting to will them into existence and stick him like a pin cushion.
“Yes, my prettiest girlfriend in the whole entire world?” He grinned back at you.
“Zip your pants up before I make you wish that your balls had been completely fried from that car battery.” With that you stood up and went to wash your mouth out in the kitchen.
“Sure! Thanks for the dick sucking. I liked it way better when you did it, less slimy and your lips felt so good…” Adrian whistled away unbothered, checking out your living room. Then he came across something that gave him pause.
“Woah you have a shit ton of consoles!”
“Yeah I do.” Nodding, you were internally screaming at yourself.
Why the fuck had you let him into your place? Now he knew where you lived! Such a pathetic impulse you'd acted upon dragging him back here and for what?
Now this goofy motherfucker was trying to set up your game cube and play Donkey Kong. Digging through your assortment of games, he went into another cabinet.
“Woah what's this thingy? Is it a microphone for karaoke?” Adrian asked, twirling the stick around in his hands.
“It's a vibrator.” You rolled your eyes at his naivety.
“Oh for your back muscles? I could use it on you.” He grinned, innocently flicking the switch.
When it violently shook and fell out his hands Adrian was flummoxed. “That doesn't feel very soothing.”
You laughed at that, picking the toy up, “Oh it can be. I'll show you?”
“Sure!” Adrian was none the wiser.
The tiny flashing green light of a surveillance bug behind your pot plant cemented the idea. At least you could make Rick and whoever else was watching you right now incredibly uncomfortable.
“Ohhh! F-fuck it's really ahhh! Umm…is this normal?” Adrian panted, hands gripping the couch cushions.
“Yeah it's normal. I actually have it on a super low setting.” You lied. “Why are you feeling it?”
You actually had the vibration scaled nearly all the way up, resting it just at his tip, leaving the rest of him untouched.
“Y-yeah I am…it's so much I don't know…” Adrian wriggled in place but didn't dare leave your grasp, green eyes pleading with yours. “Oh fuck I don't know if…”
“You don't like it? Fine, we'll stop.” You threatened and Adrian shook his head profusely.
His hands clung to your thighs. “No! Please…I do I just think I might cum soon and Pris uhh I want to well–”
“Great, once you're done you can leave.” You said with a half-yawn. This was all for the bugged cameras to make Rick and his stooges cringe.
“W-what about you?” He asked with a deep whine.
“What about me?” You glared at him again but he wasn't deterred.
“I want to make my girlfriend cum too…” His eyes were tearing up as the vibrations were clearly too much.
“Oh and how would you do that?” You sternly asked him and turned off the toy, setting it down.
“H-huh?” Adrian panted, trying to catch his breath again.
“Last time wasn't very good.” You said flatly, watching his face fall.
“It wasn't?” He whimpered.
“No, it sucked.” You weren't going to sugar coat it for him.
“I can do better! I'll look up some more research videos and…” He began but you cut him off.
“No videos. Either you fuck me hard and good right now like I know you can or leave my place and don't ever come back.”
You saw his green eyes still at that, the same way they did behind the red visor.
Like you unlocked a side to Adrian hidden behind the constant masking. Or the often strange attempts to.
“I'll do it, I'll fuck you so so hard! Hey, can we play Donkey Kong Jungle Beat after?” Adrian assured you, unbuckling his belt, then he glanced over at your consoles.
“Depends how well you do.” You shrugged, lifting up your skirt.
“Killer.” Adrian's hands gripped your waist nice and rough, a good start. Then he brought you onto his lap.
“What are you doing?” You asked.
“I want to see you on top, bouncing on it. My dick that is.” Adrian explained cheerfully, before dropping you down.
“Don't worry I'll still do most of the work though!” With that reassurance, you shifted your panties to the side.
“Oh yeah that's so good…” He grunted, watching where you were both connected.
“Stop.” You knew this wasn't giving the shock factor you wanted, while fine it felt satisfying, the angle was all wrong.
“Let's take our clothes off.” You ordered him and pointed to the carpet. “And fuck me on the floor.”
“Skin on skin? I do love shag carpet though…you sure?” Adrian whined, clearly enjoying the way things were going as is.
“Yes, we are boyfriend and girlfriend and totally at that stage now!” You flashed him a brilliant fake smile and watched his face flush bright red.
“Ohh awesome! Yes you're so right, we’re really a proper couple now oh holy fuck this is amazing…” He immediately started fumbling with pulling his jumper over his head.
“Let's roleplay to get you focused.” You decided, unbuttoning your blouse.
“Roleplay…okay sure! Who am I?” Adrian mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“Not important!” You snapped, stripping off entirely.
“Yes it is, how else can I get into character? In DND I play this artificer whose name is…” Adrian started to ramble and lose his erection, about to go into full geek mode.
You couldn't have that happen. “Ugh, you're Adrian. And I'm me. It's easier to remember. But the scenario is what we're role playing.” He slowly nodded at that.
“Yeah how about this, pretend there's a video camera, right here!” You dragged him over, directing you both in the eyeline of the obvious plant A.R.G.U.S was watching from.
“Um sure, so we're filming us doing it in this scenario?” His breath quickened, already starting to get hard again.
At least he was simple to please.
“No someone is watching us, some shady old man from the government.” You said directly into the camera plant pot, seeing a tell tale blinking red light faintly.
Adrian nodded, eagerly pinning you down onto your back, "I can work with that!" Then he entered you nice and slow, the stretch felt amazing.
At first. But he didn't change up anything, chasing after his own tail like a stupid dog.
“Ohh baby you're incredible! So fucking damn tight around me…” Adrian groaned as he started to move again this time in a basic missionary position.
You were not going to have a repeat of last time on the racing car bed.
“Not like that, fuck me like you mean it.” You instructed him, still not satisfied with how he was doing.
“Fuck…okay!” Adrian panted, pulling out to reposition himself.
Meanwhile in the A.R.G.U.S. surveillance offices Langston Fleury was sadly shaking his head in solidarity. “Damn, poor dude. Crazy is hard to dick down. But he keeps trying. That's the human spirit right there.” He pointed to the screen at Adrian's determined sweat ridden face.
“Shut the hell up Fleury.” Rick snapped, ordering that the video be taken off the big screen.
“Harder!” You urged him, digging your heels into his back, jolting Adrian off balance.
“Hey, oh shit my glasses!” Adrian reached out for them but you knocked them further away.
His face really did look way different without them, it was almost as if someone else was having sex with you. That was super appealing, like when he had the visor on. For whatever reason Adrian got under your skin unlike nobody else.
“Keep them off.” You swatted his arm.
“But I can't see you properly…” He grumbled, but his hips were still diligently snapping away.
“Aw, guess you'll have to make me moan so you can at least hear me then?” You cruelly whispered against his neck, feeling the shudder he gave off.
“Y-yeah…” Adrian agreed, his eyes were unfocused and wild as he gripped down to your waist, fingers bruising.
“Guess I'll have to.” He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach. That position he'd told you about as Vigilante, pinning again.
It took some effort finding where to reenter you, he was seriously blind but after a few jabs his cockhead found the right spot.
“That's nice Adrian…” You encouraged him, staring right up into the camera. “Fill me up baby, that's it.”
“Fuck, you're calling me baby now uhh oh god I can't…it's too much!” Adrian whined.
“Are you seriously going to finish?” You couldn't believe this guy.
“No I mean I'm trying not to…but it's more I don't think I can hold back and you know not like…hurt you and stuff.” He bit his lip, with a worried unfocused frown.
“I'm not a delicate flower, are you serious right now?” You rolled your eyes back at him. “I said I want it, now hurry up!”
“Okay, okay, fuck oh fuck…” Finally he pumped away properly, gripping deathly tight at your hips.
“That's it, like that Adrian, don't stop.” You ordered him, shoulders arching as he took what he wanted.
And more importantly gave you what you wanted.
Release.
That sensation of a total loss of control, body relinquishing its constant state of fight mode.
Hot, heavy, like a bullet your orgasm shot out from you, ripping his name along with it in a pleasured cry that Adrian would think about for nights on end afterwards.
You could feel that he'd finished too when the feeling began to return to your legs.
“It wasn't inside, I came outside on your thighs…” He quickly said, wiping them down with a nearby box of tissues.
“Can I kiss you?” Adrian asked, lips trembling towards yours.
“No.” You deftly held up a hand and turned his cheek away.
“Why not?” He asked curiously.
“Not yet, I don't feel like it.” There was something about that act you didn't want, it made the whole thing too real somehow.
This ultimately was fake, whatever this fucked up thing between you and Adrian was. It was going to end. As soon as you killed Chris, likely you'd have to kill him right after.
“Alrighty then. That was good though?” He double checked.
“Uh-huh.” You nodded for the camera, but had to admit he was quite good this time around.
“Yessss!” Adrian pumped the air up and down idiotically with his fists. “Donkey Kong Jungle Beat good?”
“Sure, I guess you Donkey'd my Kong until it Jungle Beat.” You said without thinking, watching Adrian start to cackle like a hyena.
Rolling your eyes, despite everything you found yourself laughing along with Adrian.
“Still I prefer sex with the suits on.” You said idly, controller in hand.
“Same here.” Adrian instantly agreed.
“Less sweaty.” You both said at the same time. It was strange but having him in your apartment wasn’t as terrible as you had expected.
In fact the rest of the evening was spent having fun playing video games, eating dinner and chatting away. But this fake relationship wasn’t allowed to run off course.
“Can I stay over?” Adrian asked when it was getting late.
That gave you pause. “No, I prefer to sleep alone.” A step too far, besides you really didn't think it would be a good idea.
Rick might call you or a lucrative job might open up to go kill someone and you’d rather not have to deal with killing Adrian or kicking him out in the middle of the night.
“No worries, I'll see you tomorrow?” Adrian asked hopefully, that big dumb smile of his never leaving for a second.
“Sure.” You frowned back as he waved you goodnight.
There was a very good reason you didn't want Adrian in your bed. Not only was it your personal space, you also got night terrors.
Strange dreams that caused you to wake in the middle of the night and lash out.
The few times you'd let a one night stand sleep over, you had accidentally strangled one unsuspecting gym bro to near death.
Some nights you dreamt you were Annie Oakley on a theatre stage. Dressed head to toe in bright royal blue wild west attire, fringed skirt, ten gallon hat, thigh high boots with spurs.
Dolly Parton's I Will Always Love You was the song you danced to, prop gun poised up and ready like a puppet.
If I should stay
Well I would only be in your way
And so I'll go, and yet I know
I'll think of you each step of the way...
The kind of puppet that danced on a string like a marionette with red curtains the colour of blood behind you.
Your gun caps fired in a brilliant smoke and the other actors dropped to the ground, red scarves spurting from their chests and necks in a dazzling circle.
And I will always love you
I will always love you...
This time unlike the all of the others, you had a partner, the dashing sharpshooter Frank Butler was played by Vigilante.
Bitter-sweet memories
That's all I'm taking with me
Good-bye, please don't cry
'Cause we both know that I'm not
What you need...
Without hesitation you took him down too, a bullet to the cranium, that jettisoned into a scarlet swathe of confetti.
But I will always love you
I will always love you...
The song continued on, your movements were so graceful, pirouettes in sync to the resounding thunderous clap of applause from the stage.
In the front row was your father, dressed as White Dragon and your brother, dressed as Peacemaker. Keith was there too, a teenager as you remembered him.
"Focus!" Peacemaker yelled.
"Precision!" White Dragon jeered.
"Control!" Keith shouted.
A red closing curtain draped you in a sheet of blood across the stage.
Then their faces morphed into a more friendly familial one.
"Amazing work girl!" Auggie smiled.
"Great job lil sis!" Chris cheered.
"You make us so proud, Strawberry!" Keith called out.
Those evenings you woke up in strange places, unsure of how you got there. The only familiar thing tying you to these locations was blood.
None of it was ever yours. But no bodies were ever to be seen.
You had long since stopped trying to figure it out, most likely this was sleep walking and your homicidal tendencies went on a rampage in your unconsciousness.
Thankfully you always cleaned up after yourself though.
Tonight was one of those nights.
"Where the fuck am I this time?" Standing up you saw that it was a pitcher's mound.
The baseball field's green lawn was riddled with patches of fresh blood. Swathes of crimson painted your Precision combat suit, near warm to the touch.
It had been a long time since one of these spells took ahold of you like this, disorientating and lethargic you stumbled out of the bright lights of the field and into the comforting darkness.
Sprinting towards the nearest exit, you needed to get out of here before you got caught with whatever killing spree crime you'd just committed.
"Wow, like a killer Stepford wife." Rick laughed, watching you flee from the top of the stands. Checking his stopwatch he added, "incredible. M16 should take a page out of your book Mr. Smith."
"Auggie." Was the only gruff reply he got.
"Well Auggie this has been very valuable information that will serve your country well. The money will be wired to the account within the hour."
"Alright." Auggie grunted in reply and unceremoniously hung up.
"Must run in the family." Rick rolled his eyes and snapped the burner flip phone shut. Next to him was a PA system hooked up to a record player with the vinyl for Dolly Parton's 1974 hit I Will Always Love You.
"And I wish you joy and happiness but above all of this, I wish you love..." Rick hummed along, flicking his cigarette off the stadium bleachers.
Dead Poets Society resonates so much with a lot of people because it explores such foreign yet captivating concepts like "having friends" and "being gay"
synopsis: you and jaafar are starring in a new rom-com, but little does the public know you’ve been experiencing your very own little rom-com during production too. (co star!reader)
warnings: romantic tension? i don’t know anything about superstar/actor life so this may be inaccurate
The hot, bright lights cast a warm glow on your arms. The interviewer in front of you smiles politely at you and him as she talks. It’s your first time on press tour, but lucky for you, Jaafar is by your side to guide you through the process.
“We love to see new faces in movie productions. Tell me, what was it like working alongside each other?” The interviewer asks, eyes flicking between him and you.
You look at Jaafar. He looks at you at the same time. He looks so good: he’s wearing one of his usual silk shirts, and the simplest black slacks. And his usual soft smile, like he’s totally at home in front of the cameras. Like he’s totally at home with you.
The two of you exchange bashful smiles, glances laden with something more meaningful. “You wanna go first?” Jaafar proposes, gesturing toward you.
“Sure.” You pass him a shy smile before formulating your answer. You truly don’t know. Working with Jaafar… memories flash through your mind like a symphony on repeat. The midnight talks in front of your trailers, the quick snack breaks between the scenes and the many inside jokes you’ve shared over the past couple of months.
“Working with Jaafar,” you begin, his name slipping out a bit dreamier than you intend to. “Was truly one of the best experiences I’ve had in my life. He’s so open, so sweet like—” you gesture to him while giggling, “look at that face!”
The interviewer laughs with you as Jaafar rubs over his forehead in nervousness, trying to hide his face. “You flatter me.” He responds, voice slightly muffled.
You pick up where you left off. “No, but seriously, he took really good care of me. And I’m so grateful I got to know him. Who he is as a person. He’s really good at what he does—whatever it is: singing, dancing, acting—and I laud him for that. I’ve gotten to know a beautiful person, inside and out.”
When you look over at Jaafar, he’s already looking at you. He grabs your hand that’s resting on the arm rest with gentleness. “Thank you, baby.” he tells you quietly, eyes glued onto your face.
The interviewer speaks up again. “And Jaafar, how was working with her for you?”
He keeps his hand clasped around yours. “I… I really enjoyed it. I enjoyed her, her presence. Her optimism. How she was able to bring happiness to every room she walked into. It’s… kind of admirable, you know?” The interviewer nods in agreement. “Even after the hardest days, she was able to make my day better by just… being there. It’s something you can’t… just ignore. I’m really glad I’ve found a friend for life with this project.”
You feel your insides warm up at his sweet words, heat wavering over your cheeks. How easy it is for him to voice his admiration for you, even though you’re new to the scene.
But you try to make the interview lighthearted again. “Stop, I can’t cry. My mascara’s perfect today.” You fake-sob, waving your hands in front of your face to “dry your tears”.
The three of you share laughs and giggles again, before the interviewer asks her final question. “Fans really loved the slow dancing scene. Did you— did you guys know that?”
You nod lightly, a knowing glint in your eyes. “I’ve seen a TikTok or two about it.”
“So, what was the scene like? What were rehearsals like?”
You and Jaafar share a lingering look, telepathically deciding you’re going to give your answer first.
“We— uh, well, of course we all know Jaafar’s an amazing dancer. We’ve all seen him as Michael Jackson, come on now. Boy’s got moves,” you mutter the last part in a “duh”-tone, nudging his side with your elbow. “And I’m not the best dancer ever. So, I’m glad I had someone with me who had… let’s say, better developed motoric abilities.”
Jaafar’s warm touch on your waist shoots through your mind. The exhausting rehearsal days, both of you in loose clothing, faces bare, just like yourselves, while he guided you through the entire choreography patiently, step by step. The endless twirls and interlaces of fingers, his hands on your back, him telling you when you needed to step back.
The memories seem too intimate to share all of a sudden, and you know Jaafar would feel that way too, so you just settle on your basic answer. You try to catch his eyes, and when he looks at you, you quickly look away. You’re too shy.
“He just really guided me through that process. He taught me the entire routine really, and he’s a damn good teacher. He was amazing, sorry — I’m saying that a lot aren’t I? Anyway, it all turned out beautifully in the end, especially with Jaafar’s love confession as we did the dancing.” You end, voice laced with warmth and comfort, reminiscing the beautiful memory.
Then, your team signals that it’s time to wrap up the interview. You do, both of you shaking the interviewer’s hand with polite smiles and quick “thank you”’s.
When snippets of the interview get released on TikTok, the fans can’t help but freak out.
user105679: HES SOOOOO GENTLE WITH HERRR the “thank you baby” omgggg
mjlover2002: look at how they look at each other, aint no way they arent dating lol
ririthediva: i know damn well there’s more to that rehearsal story.
juliassupersecretspam: AM I SEEING MATCHING BRACELETS??????? tell me i’m not crazy #delusional
hopelessromanticxo: my parentssssssss forreal
a/n: the joy of finding out that your favourite song by brandy and one of your favourite michael jackson songs are produced by the same person 😪 top of the world and you rock my world lovers riseeeeee! the beats sound so similar idk how i've never noticed it before
also would the world like it if i deadass started writing mj fanfiction like. i can’t get his angel face out of my head
a/n: this was a friend's request and i hope they like it. first time writing blowjob, hope it's good. enjoy!
it was nice having a friend!
you and armin have been friends ever since he got into sweet amoris. it was only natural after all, you two shared the same interests and that was quite rare.
it didn't matter what alexy or rosalya say, you were just friends.
yes, armin is so fucking hot quite attractive, but it's not like you like him or anything!!
maybe to others it was weird how often armin invited you over to his house and you two spend all day inside his bedroom, but to you it wasn't. it's just a normal thing that friends do!
today he did just that, he texted you about some new games he just bought and invited you over to test them together.
you two were playing some generic car race game, both with controllers in hands and hawk eyes focused on the screen.
"hey," armin called out suddenly.
"what?" you shoot a quick reply, too worried about winning this race.
"have you ever thought about sucking?"
you quirk an eyebrow, "sucking?" you repeat his question confused.
"you know," he cleared his throat, you knew that this was a sign he was trying to push his embarrassment away. "blowjob."
"WHA-" you choked on your own spit, whipping your head towards him so quick you might've heard a few cracks, "w- what the fuck?"
armin shrugged, still looking at the screen and his fingers never stop hitting buttons, "just a random thought."
you scoffed at his words. "a random thought" he said but you notice how he's avoiding looking directly at you.
rolling your eyes you turn back to the game, trying uselessly to catch up with the other cars.
you two stay like that for a few quiet, awkward seconds.
"w- well..." you started, clearing your throat and shrugging, trying to act nonchalant and ignoring the obvious blush creeping up your neck to your cheeks. "i think it's interesting."
"okay," armin nodded, eyes still not daring to look at you.
and that was it. seriously, why he did this-
"wanna try?"
"what?"
okay, now that made you totally forget about this stupid game.
you look at him with wide eyes, jaw dropped as you let his words sink in. what does he mean by that? is he seriously asking you to give him head or are you delusional?
armin shoot you a quick glance through the corner of his eyes and laughed when he saw your face, "what i meant was..." he placed his controller on the closest surface then leaned close to you, so close that you felt his breath brush your cheek. "wanna suck my dick?"
"oh my god..." you muttered as you gulped.
that is how you end up kneeled on the floor between his legs, hands groping his clothed cock unsure, your awkwardness still leaving your whole body tense as you touched his groin tentatively.
armin sat on the edge of his bed, legs spread apart and eyes now watched you attentively with a smirk adorning his handsome face.
your eyes moved from his crotch to his face then back, the whole situation made your heart race so fast you might think you're having a heart attack, your whole face was completely red by now.
"want some help?" he asked, a deep chuckle coming from the bottom of his throat.
it was so hot, your panties were surely soaked.
you don't answer with words, just giving him a quick nod while avoiding to look at his face. instead, your eyes remain glued on his lower body, watching as he moved to unbutton his jeans and push it down along with his underwear just enough to free his cock from the coffins of his clothes and slap against his toned abs.
he wasn't long but he was so fucking thick, he was a cute shade of pink and red, and there was a small bush of hair showing that he shaved recently.
looking at it now... were you able to fit all that on your mouth?
"fuck," armin let out a small moan the same time his cock spurted a small shot of precum, your cute eyes looked so adorable while you're staring at his dick. "like what you see?"
again, you just nodded, a curious finger going up to poke at his girthy meat and he chuckled.
now your mind worked to remember everything you knew from movies, porn, smut fanfiction and put it to action. god, you don't even know how many times you've dreamed about this.
you grabbed the base of his cock, holding it steady, armin hissed at the warmth of your palm but quickly replaced by a gasp when you pressed your soft lips on him, proceeding to spread small pecks all over his cock.
"ah..." armin let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes and taking in the suave feeling of your kisses, you felt his muscles relax under your hands.
oh my god, this was too much. your tummy was bursting with butterflies like crazy, eagerness and excitement plastered on your face as your eyes never once look away from the delicious sight of his cock.
your eyes started to get watery and you were panting, open mouth letting out small puffs of air right against his hot skin and he sighed again at the feeling.
you slowly push your face even closer, bringing your tongue out as you give his tip a tentative lick, getting a taste of his salty precum, which earned you a gasp from armin.
his cock keep spurting precum, you might've thought he was cumming already from how much he's leaking, while you kept giving shy licks through his entire length.
after long, torturing minutes of only licks, you felt ready to open your mouth and envelope his tip with your velvety walls. when armin let out a long, satisfied hum, you get bold, sucking his head with a loud slurp.
"ah! o- oh- wait-! argh!" moans run out of his lips before he could even process it as you drink him down, "uh- ah! hah.. ah- oh..."
you circled your tongue around his tip, dipping your moist muscle on every fold of his skin. armin gasped and moaned, blabbering praises while you kept switching between sucking and licking.
"ah- hah... oh! you- agh... you're good... ah!" armin moaned out loud, physically incapable of holding his noises back when your felt just felt so good... he placed an encouraging hand on the crown of your head, urging to go deeper.
your mouth stayed on his tip, gulping down his salty precum, while your hand took care of the rest by massaging his hard-on up and down painfully slow, taking a loud, long moan out of him.
the feeling of the head of his cock inside your mouth was so good, your free hand slid down to rub your clit, feeling how moist you are even through the clothes, a whine escaped the bottom of your throat, the vibration making armin gasp.
you slowly get used to his dick, sucking his tip for so long gave you confidence to try to gulp more of him.
you tried, you breathe through your nose, pushing his length deeper into your mouth and forcing his tip into your throat, but you don't last long. it was hard to breathe, your reflexes screamed when his head hit your uvula and you gagged.
armin noticed you choke on his cock, he grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed you away. when you felt your mouth empty after having it stuffed full with him, you gasped for air, panting as you catch your breath.
"are you okay?" he asked, cupping your cheeks with both his hands, leaning down towards you so your faces were close.
"y- yeah," you nodded, the corners of your mouth going up in a small, tired smile. "so... how was it?"
armin laughed, he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before looking deep into your eyes. "it was perfect."
No but the Hunger Games really said "what do you hate more- the atrocities or the people who commit them against you? Because like it or not there IS a difference. If you hate the people who commit acts of pure evil more than you hate the acts themselves, what will stop you from becoming just like your enemies in your pursuit of justice? What will keep you from commiting those very same acts against THEM when the opportunity arises? And what then? The cycle of pain and suffering will never stop. Round and round it'll go. Nothing will ever change. But. BUT. If you hate the atrocities. If you hate the vile, senseless acts MORE than you hate the people who did them to you. If you are able to see that evil is evil regardless of who does it... The cycle ends with you. No, you may never get justice. But you will never be responsible for making others, even your enemies, suffer the same crimes you have. The atrocities will never be committed by you, never by your hand. And that's the way you change the world. It's the ONLY way" and that's why I am sure it will never stop being one of the most relevant works of fiction ever created
Setting my alarm to bell tower noises so I can pretend to be a homosexually coded rich white boy in a privlaged boarding school in the 1950s in Vermont or wherever with my odd dependant homoerotic friendship and my cool English teacher who encourages me to speak out against the system and to be a real person with my own thoughts and freethinking
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: reader meets Francis at the mall, who turns out to feel refreshingly easy to talk to. what happens when a crush turns serious and they both have to open up about their family lore?
𝘁𝘄: toxic/dysfunctional family dynamics, reader is ashamed of her family and so is francis. fucked up childhoods. lowk trauma bonding (very light). fluff. friends to lovers. angst. jealous!francis. mentions of reader's ex boyfriend.
𝘄.𝗰: 5.3k.
𝗮/𝗻: reader and francis are 20, francis came back from military school. set in the 2000s. my mans Francis doesn't get the attention he deserves fr. hope this soothes anyone that comes from a dysfunctional family <3. you are loved, and will be loved, always. divider credits to @cafekitsune.
You would be lying if you said you hadn't noticed the cute blonde boy who stood a few feet away from you at the record store at your local mall.
You were looking for a new vinyl in the rock section and had noticed him in the corner of your eye. But as usual, you pretended not to care and focused on your search instead, your eyes traveling across the myriad of discs and artists' names.
You reached for a particularly interesting vinyl when someone's hand accidentally brushed yours. You looked up, moving your hand away from the vinyl like it was about to bite you.
It was him, his blue eyes set on you, his hand still hovering near the vinyl you had both seemingly went for. He was slightly taller. Your body froze when a smile graced his lips, his eyes still set on you before he seemed to regain composure.
“Oh, sorry” he said, voice sounding both younger and firmer than you thought it would be.
“No- it's me, sorry” you dismissed, looking shyly to the floor, heartbeat quickening.
He was cute, cute. He wore blue jeans and a black t-shirt, looking casual yet something in his demeanor — the way he stood straight, the way he moved — felt like he was older than he looked.
“You've got good taste” he said, head motioning to the vinyl that had led to your conversation.
“Thanks, so do you” you finally looked up at him to see his eyes hadn't left your figure.
He moved his hand away from the culprit to present it to you.
“I'm Francis, by the way. What's your name?”
You introduced yourself and he repeated your name with an endearing dumb expression of awe on his face.
“I've never seen you before” he noted, eager to get the conversation going. “'Are you from 'round here?”
“I've recently moved” you explained, grateful he kept the conversation going. “With my parents”, you added reluctantly. “Have you always lived here?”
He told you he had, and had recently come back from military school (that explained why he looked more mature) but he was indeed 20, just like you. When the conversation died down and you looked around, assessing the store one last time before leaving, Francis' voice piped up once more, almost desperate.
“If you're free right now, I could show you around the mall?” he suggested, half expecting you to turn him down, trying to sound casual.
But you weren't eager to go back home so soon so you jumped on the occasion, your smile widening. The sight had Francis' heart making an olympic-level jump in his chest.
“Sure!”.
The two of you left the record store, the coveted vinyl long forgotten, and walked around the mall. Spring was right around the corner, meaning the sun was out, shining strong, warming bodies but it wasn't hot enough to air-condition the mall. When you passed by a store, Francis bought the two of you cola, your fingers brushing his as you reached for the can he offered you.
“Thanks” you smiled and Francis knew he wanted to be the reason you smiled for the rest of his life. “So, is that where you usually spend your Saturdays?”
“I used to, a lot, back in high school” he explained, as his steps matched yours, the two of you taking your sweet, sweet time ambling mindlessly. “Especially with my brothers.”
You nodded. You would've asked about his brothers and family but you knew this would be the gateway for him to return the questions and inquire about yours, which was the last thing you wanted to talk about. Little did you know neither did he.
“And what do you do, now that you've come back from military school?” you peered at him over your sip of cola.
“Uh… well, I'm looking for a job.” To move out as soon as possible, he was about to add but refrained to. “How about you?”
“Yeah, I see” you nodded in agreement. “I'm actually in college, now.”
“Oh, what do you study?” he inquired, surprised.
"Law”.
His eyebrows comically shot up, an intrigued smirk tugging at his lips. Beautiful and smart, he thought to himself. He could never, ever be up to your level.
You took in his smile, your heart making a leap, grateful for the crisp coke in your hand cooling you down. You both walked straight to the mall's exit, your stroll coming to a natural end, and your heart immediately sank at the idea of having to leave.
Once outside, Francis' blond hair shined bright under the sun and you felt as though you were in summer, his blue eyes reminiscent of the sea, his smile lingering like the afterthought of a joke he hadn't said yet. If love at first sight was a thing, then this was it, because you were down bad.
“I really enjoyed that, thank you for taking pity on me and showing me around” you said honestly, eyes flickering all over his face.
His mouth went dry under your scrutiny. The sun brought out your eye color so strongly he knew he wouldn't be able to think of anything else for a long, long time. He couldn't let you go. He wouldn't.
“We should do this again. How about next Saturday? I could take you to a movie” he shrugged, like it wasn't a full-on date he was proposing.
"Yes!” you immediately accepted. Whether he was being friendly or hitting on you, you didn't want to miss the chance of making a new friend in town. He gave you his home number and you both went your separate ways.
When you arrived home, you were faced with a dilemma.
When is the right time to call when a guy gives you a number? The same day? The day after? Or the day of your date meeting?
You decided not to call, partly because you didn't want your parents eavesdropping on your conversation, partly because you didn't want to seem desperate.
For the next five days, Francis asked Lois, Hal, and his brothers whether or not someone had asked for him on the phone. They all noticed the way his head perked up from his lounging position on the living room's couch each time the phone rang. But whenever they inquired about it, he would immediately become elusive, sometimes straight up mean.
Finally the next Friday rolled around and you decided to call to ensure you were still meeting at the mall the next morning.
You dialed the phone number when the living room was empty, your parents off who knows where, and waited.
It rang once. Twice. Thre-
“Hello?” it was a young man's voice, definitely not Francis'. Probably one of his brothers, you recalled.
“Hi, could I please speak with Francis?”
“Who are you?”
Ok, rude. A nervous chuckle escaped your lips.
“Tell him it's the girl from the ma-”
You heard a voice shout and a faint “give me that, idiot!” followed by a small "ow!” on the other side of the line and then-
“Hey!” it was Francis' voice. He said your name. “I'm glad you called, I was beginning to worry you'd lost the number”.
He immediately silently cursed himself when the words escaped his mouth. So not cool.
He sighed in relief when he heard your genuine laugh on the other side of the line.
“I didn't know when to call” you admitted, partly out of pity for his evident embarrassment. “Are we still, uh… meeting tomorrow?”
“Yeah sure, let's say 11am at the mall?”
“Perfect, see ya.”
“See ya, bye.”
You hung up and had to hold a happy scream in. You jumped in place in excitement before finally going back to your room. Ok, now, what should you wear for tomorrow?
Back at the Wilkersons', the smile looming on Francis' face could only be seen as sly from Lois' perspective.
“What're you doing at the mall tomorrow?” Lois' voice came out sharp, judgment ready to bounce off of anything he could say.
Francis sighed and turned around to face his mother.
“I got a job interview” the lie came out naturally as he rolled his eyes.
Lois' expression turned stunned.
“Francis, really? That's amazing… !” said Lois as she went back to her room, already telling Hal the happy news, shock evident in her voice.
Once out of earshot, Francis immediately turned to Malcolm who had been the one to pick up your call in the first place.
“If you say anything to anyone I'll personally make sure everyone knows you had started a journal after bounding with mom” he glared, ready to seal his promise with an ass-beating.
Malcolm's shit-eating grin immediately faltered.
“So unfair” he whispered to himself as he went back to his own room, leaving Francis with a ridiculous smile on his face and an erratic heartbeat at the idea of seeing you again.
You noticed the blonde man leaning against the wall from a few feet away. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, and you were relieved that you hadn’t over-dressed yourself (jeans, a tank top, and your favorite jacket). He also wore sunglasses which made him look way more intimidating than he actually was.
The second he saw you getting closer, his posture changed, as he held his shoulders back, pushed himself off of the wall and waved at you. Once you were standing at arms length, unsure how to greet him, he took the chance to give you a once over, an approving twinkle in his eyes when he removed his sunglasses.
“Hey, you look great!” he said, looking at your entire figure again.
“Thanks, so do you!” you tried to make it sound friendly and not as down bad as you felt deep down.
You both walked inside the mall, letting Francis guide you to the cinema. Your shoulders occasionally brushed as you ambled side by side, allowing you to get a whiff of his cologne. The two of you fell into easy conversation as he asked you about your favorite film genre, favorite artists, and your hobbies. It felt truly refreshing and almost foreign to talk with somebody who listened, truly listened to you.
Your ex boyfriend had the attention span of a fish, almost never letting you finish your thoughts and only listening to you when the subject matter was him. You had grown accustomed to feeling like you were talking to a wall the minute you talked for, god-forbid, longer than thirty seconds about something other than his person.
Now, you had the awful habit of tracking people's face to make sure you weren't oversharing or boring them. Francis noticed how you peeked discreet glances at him between sentences like you were worried he might not be truly listening. Except he was, and your heart ached in bittersweet surprise when you saw his attention was on you, full and undivided. He nodded, engaged with and reacted to everything you said.
Being with him felt so easy not even silence made you feel uncomfortable anymore. It quickly dawned on you that there was un underlying and silent understanding between the two of you yet you couldn't pinpoint how or why that was.
That's how you discovered you had very similar music tastes and that he was overall quite in tune with the current culture of your times. The two of you had gone from talking about music and films to politics and the state of the U.S within 10 minutes. Both of you had so much to say to one another, like you were old friends who hadn't seen each other in years, that it is almost reluctantly that you piped down for the film.
Sitting so close to each other in silence felt even better than walking side by side talking. Your shoulders definitely brushed all the time now, and your fingers accidentally intertwined more than once when you both reached for the popcorn. Each time, you wished for it to happen again, and each time a jolt of electricity coursed through you.
Francis could hardly take his eyes off of you. There was a time (just a few years ago, truthfully), when he wouldn't have waited until the next date to make a move or full-on sleep with girls. But it felt different with you, not because you deserved more 'respect' or whatever, but simply because the connection felt real and… deeper. He didn't want to screw this up.
When the film was over, the two of you length fully discussed it, sharing your opinions on the ending, on the plot and on the actors. Francis' opinion differed from your own but you could understand each other's points of view.
When you passed by a video games store, Francis chuckled. Eyebrows furrowing, you sent him a questioning look.
“What is it?” you asked, a smile slowly creeping up your own face.
God, his smile was so contagious.
“Nothin', I, uh… I once got arrested in that store” he shrugged, half-ashamed, half-amused by the anecdote. He tried to gauge your reaction from the corner of his eyes. Would you think less of him for this anecdote? And if it were the case, what would be of the three hundred other ones he had in store?
You chuckled, definitely amused, and Francis released a sigh he didn't know he withheld.
“Shit, why?” you laughed.
“Stole a game” he grimaced, still scanning your features.
“My, my, have you the makings of a bad boy, Francis?” you mused jokingly.
His heart stuttered at the sound of his name coming from your beautiful lips. He knew he would do anything you asked him to just to hear you say his name again.
“Actually… I was a real brat when I was younger. 'Ts why my parents sent me to military school.” he admitted, still testing the waters.
You nodded slowly, understanding the subtext — and trying to imagine of what it exactly consisted without sounding invading.
“So… a rebel?” you guessed.
“Eh… Something like that” he bobbed his head. “I think I just enjoyed giving them shit because I didn't really feel… seen.”
When he realized how deep this sounded, he quickly dismissed it with a shrug, not wanting to ruin the mood. But your eyes were set on him and they didn't convey contempt or shock but… understanding. He felt his embarrassment melt away, a sense of calm washing over him.
“I get it. I've felt this way too, in my family” your words finally came out, voice softer than he’d heard it yet and he could tell you were saying the truth.
Five minutes later, the two of you were cracking jokes together, Francis stealing glances to watch you laugh every single time.
Over lunch, he told you a few stories about his time at the military school, most of them being so insane you didn’t know whether you had to cry or laugh about the things he had endured over there.
A little while later, you walked into random stores to crack more jokes and comment on the things you saw — games, books, movie tapes. One second you were telling him about a particularly bad movie you’d seen, the next you were talking to a stranger. You looked around, any trace of Francis gone.
“Francis?” you called, eyes darting around the store.
“Sssh!!”
Something yanked you from your sleeve until you were crouching behind a shelf next to Francis.
“What-“
He brought his hand up to cover your mouth and your heart stuttered at the contact. The softness of your lips on his hand had him making a double take to look at you, the silliness of the situation fully dawning on him. He slowly removed his hand, mouthing a silent and incredibly hot “sorry”.
“I thought I saw my mom and brothers” he explained as he helped you stand back up next to him.
He knew it was silly and that you didn’t deserve to be hidden. But it was exactly because you were the picture of perfection that he could never introduce you to them. You’d probably run off and move cities if not countries if you did.
He couldn’t tell you felt the exact same way, especially with having a father unable to be stable or save money.
So the both of you were stuck in a half-lie, half-truth about your childhood and family situation.
For those few seconds during which you stood close to Francis after he’d helped you back up, his hand lingered over yours and your eyes locked. The proximity had you basking in his blue eyes, adrenaline coursing through you. You realized that maybe, all of this was only in your head. That probably, in fact, you were imagining things and that Francis was just a friendly guy. Then, a nearby kid dropped his toy on the floor, startling you and bursting the bubble you were in.
When Francis moved his hand away, yours felt immediately cold like it didn’t know it had needed his warmth during all the years before you met.
“Well…” you broke the awkward silence. “I’m actually meeting a friend in half an hour so I should probably…” you trailed off.
“Oh, yeah, sure, no, of course” he mumbled quickly, shaking his head vigorously. “I, uh… I had an amazing time with you, uh… I’ll call you”.
Was he blushing? He seemed so panicked you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. You did an awkward wave as a goodbye and exited the store.
Ten minutes later, Francis realized he couldn’t call you because he didn’t have your number. You had his. So you were going to spend the next few days waiting for a call that would never arrive.
“Fuck!” Francis whispered. Not only did he fumble you, he also had to come up with a lie as to why he didn’t get the job he was supposedly interviewing for today at the mall.
He was so screwed.
Obviously, you didn’t hear from him again. By Friday night, as you got ready to head to a party a friend had invited you to, you’d given up on your hopes altogether. Clearly, you had misread his whole demeanor. How could you ever think he was into you?
While you were a little bummed out by the situation, you were glad you could still fend for yourself, what with you getting invited to a party so soon after you moved here. You’d been invited by James, an old high-school friend who’d moved here as well and went to the same college as you. All in all, excitement overtook your disappointment when you arrived in front of his house.
The music boomed through the walls and the floor, as a complete stranger opened the door to greet you in.
“Where’s James?” you asked, hanging onto the only familiar person there was.
The stranger, a girl with an empty cup in her hand, motioned to the kitchen. You made your way through the crowd, a mixture of faces, alcohol and laughs, until you recognized his familiar black hair and back. When you stepped close enough for him to see you, he gave you a short friendly hug before introducing you to the two boys who stood next to him.
The first one was tall, also a brunette, and had gorgeous freckles all over his face. You didn't quite register his name with all the noise but when you turned to look at the second boy, you almost blacked out.
Blonde, tall, and very cute. Your blood ran cold.
“And this is Francis” said James, his hand still hovering near your shoulders for support.
Francis' heart did a jump in his chest at your familiar face but wasn't too fond of the way James had hugged you a few seconds ago. Was he missing something there? Were you guys together?
“Uh, yeah, we- we know each other” you managed to say, eyes still locked in his.
You didn't know whether or not he was happy to see you. Your breath hitched but you managed to fake a smile.
“Really? That's cool as fuck!” said James happily before he was called by someone else from the living room. He excused himself and the other brunette left with him, leaving you alone with Francis.
An awkward silence befell the two of you, as you pretended to take a sip of your drink while looking at the other party members.
Francis, on the other hand, racked his brain to come up with something cool to say, and not sound totally hopeless but when you caught his eyes on you and held the eye-contact, his mind short-circuited and he spluttered:
“I forgot I didn't have your number but you had mine and didn't know how to reach you, I'm sorry”.
You sighed in relief under his cool blue eyes that flickered all over your face and body.
“It's fine, y'know, you didn't have to feel obligated-” you started.
“No, no, I mean it!” he said with vehemence. The hug James gave you flashed suddenly in his mind and before he knew it, the words spilled out of his mouth: “I really like you”.
The cup you held stopped midway to your lips, your body freezing for a good second. The look of desperation on his face was so endearing.
“Really?” your said, disbelieving.
Before you could register anything, his lips crashed into yours with a suddenness neither of you had expected. The kiss was brief and sweet and you barely had time to melt into it that he already pulled away, an apologetic look on his face like his confidence wavered as quickly as it had overtook him.
“Sorry, I, uh…” his eyes darted to the floor then back up to your face.
You stood on your tip toes to kiss him again, silencing him once and for all, your mind saturated by the softness of his lips, the smell of his cologne and the aftertaste of alcohol. You felt his hands instinctively wrap around your waist, his hold firm and keeping you upright like he was the lighthouse in the sea of your life. The music, the people around, the fact you weren't in your own house, it all faded away like it was a distant memory. As you kissed, one of his hands moved to your upper back, drawing soothing circles that had you weak at the knees and wanting so much more.
At last, the two of you broke apart, his eyes rendered darker by whatever consuming desire had risen in him, yours deliciously taking in the sight of his face.
You hadn't been able to talk much about the kiss afterwards, though, because Francis' old friends came by and while he tried to include you as much as possible in the conversation, amid all the embarrassment of his friends recalling his old bratty and lowkey illegal younger years, you obviously couldn't benefit from any privacy now.
Eventually, you had to leave. Needless to say, Francis was grateful for his mom's car when you accepted to get a ride home.
The city streets were empty as you watched the street lights fade in and out of your view, sat on the passenger side, still as a statue, expression unreadable. The radio played faintly and your mind couldn't stop playing your earlier kiss on loop.
And Francis? Oh, he was over the moon. His hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, his face was hot (since when was it so hot in this car?!). He kept peeking glances to read your expression, on the corner of his eyes but you looked calm, pleased… and you were quiet. And while Francis had never minded being quiet with you, this time the air felt charged with something electric, unsaid and exciting.
This was his chance. His chance to make you his. His chance to claim you and declare his love. Yet every time he opened his mouth, he thought about how perfect you were, how beautiful, how talented and smart, and how lame his family was.
“Man, James was really wasted, wasn't he?” he finally said.
Your whirlwind of thoughts stilled as you turned to look at him. You'd been waiting for him to say something, you just didn't think he would come up with that. A chuckle escaped your lips nonetheless as you recalled your brunette friend.
“Yeah, totally. Don't even know where he ended up being when we left” your voice came out lower than he’d heard it yet, your words slower too.
You were tired, and frankly done with putting a strain on your voice all the time. It felt odd not having to force your voice to be louder than it naturally was. You’d always talked louder around people out of fear they would be dismissive of your words, like your volume could compensate for their lack of listening. It always felt like this with your friends, and your parents too. But it didn’t feel this way with Francis.
Francis looked at you. Saw you. Always listened intently.
Tonight wasn’t any different. You felt your shoulders relax, and any embarrassment related to your lack of certainty about where you stood with the blonde man smoothed into the simple joy of being next to him.
Maybe this was enough. Maybe just sitting next to him was good enough. Maybe you shouldn’t be greedy.
A surge of honesty overtook you.
When he didn't say anything else, you added: “Thanks, by the way, for the ride. You really didn't have to. I might…” you thought a second before you finally let go of (almost) all pretense, “My father’s gonna give me so much shit” you sighed, covering your eyes with your hands.
His brows knitted when he recognized that expression on your face: that ultimate despair at the idea of facing a parent. His curiosity got the best of his quiet promise that he would never bring families up.
“Why?”
The question hung in the air, curious, so quiet it was soft. His voice was soft. You liked his voice.
“Because I was supposed to leave that party like, two hours ago.”
You shook your head.
“I’m so tired of him always following my every move!” you couldn’t stop your complaining now. It felt so good letting it out, even if you had promised yourself you wouldn’t.
“Yeah I get that. My mom still does it although I’m a fucking adult now”.
Your head snapped in his direction. That tone of his voice, the exasperation…
“Yeah, exactly!” you agreed. Did he just put words on what you’ve been feeling for the last few years?
“I went to military school, I’m trying to find a job, I stopped hanging out with my loser friends and it’s still not enough. She’s never satisfied.” he added, feeling a weight being lifted off his shoulders.
“Same here! I literally did my best in school, graduated valedictorian from high school, went to law school, and they still think I can't make good decisions on my own! I'm tired of being babied by parents I had to raise!”
A heavy silence followed your last sentence, the realization hitting you both like a slap in the face. Your chest heaved slightly in anger, as you got lost in Francis' eyes. The car stopped at a red-light, allowing him to take your features in, your words echoing in his mind as much as yours.
He kissed you.
And this time, the kiss didn't feel like any other kiss. This kiss was a way to say: I see you, I hear you, I feel for you. I understand you. I love you.
The door behind which you hid your family all these years cracked open. Just a slit, barely wide enough to see anything and yet… You knew there was no coming back from this. You knew you'd have to be honest and come clean (eventually) with Francis.
The both of you pulled away when the light turned green. Francis drove again, but not before taking a good look at you, his heart fluttering with something he wasn't really familiar with.
“I really like you” he finally said, a deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face. This was the second time he said that tonight. Did he mean to say something more?
You smiled, for real this time and shifted a little closer.
“Me too.”
“Will-can you be my girlfriend?” he spluttered.
The thing about Francis is, that man might be terrible with his words but god, was he good at taking action, you thought as you recalled the kiss(es).
“Yes”.
Lois was the first to notice Francis’ newfound happy mood. Then his brothers noticed too. And eventually, Hal did. Until one dinner Lois broke the ice when she noticed how quiet her eldest son was:
“Ok, who is she?”
Francis’ eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“Who?” he asked, almost cheekily, chewing his food.
“Your girlfriend. You obviously have been seeing someone, that’s the only reason why you haven’t been mistreating your brothers lately!” she shrugged her shoulders, unimpressed.
Francis rolled his eyes but his heart fluttered at the thought of you. There was no way in hell he was going to tell his family about you, though. The last thing he wanted was for them to ruin it.
And so the two of you saw each other more and more, spending evenings at the cinema, weekends at the mall, and sunny afternoons in parks. For the first time in forever, you felt loved when together, and missed when separated.
Francis never hid how pathetic he truly was for you, or at least did a terrible job at it. But you liked it. You liked him. No, scratch that, you loved him. Because you'd come clean about how fucked up your upbringing had been, how bad your father had been as head of the family, and how little privacy you'd grown to have.
And he still loved you, even related to you, and what was once a source of shame was now understood and somehow made easier to live with, almost normal. Yes, dysfunctional families do exist. Yes, it's fine to be from one of them. And yes, you can break the cycle.
But soon enough, Francis' new habit of missing dinners, spending his weekends outside, and overt happiness confirmed his family's suspicion. Was it really a surprise his brothers decided to follow him to the park one weekend and saw a beautiful young girl by his side being all cuddly and-
“Ugh, gross” Reese spat, behind the tree from which he and Malcolm hid, when the two of you kissed.
“She's pretty!” said Malcolm, disbelieving his brother had successfully found a girl like you.
“Mom was right”.
“Of course she was, it was obvious” Malcolm rolled his eyes.
“He's gonna eat shit” said Reese with an evil smile.
When Francis came back home that night, and went to his brothers' room to annoy them, he was faced with two sly younger brothers.
“We saw her” said Reese. "She's really pretty. I wonder what mom's gonna think when she finds out you've been hiding us from her.”
“Hey, do you wanna catch these hands, for old-time's sake?” warned Francis, alluding to his old days of mistreating Malcolm and Reese.
“You won't do anything because you've changed, now. For your little girlfriend” mocked Malcolm with a grin that matched Reese's.
“Aha, so you do have a girlfriend!”
The three of them turned around. Lois had overheard, standing triumphantly by the door, arms crossed over her chest.
“Bring her over for dinner, Saturday, end of discussion.” she said as she turned around, leaving no room for arguing.
When Francis turned back to face Reese and Malcolm, the both of them knew better than to rub salt into the wound and immediately fled the premises. But he didn't run after them. Because a part of him wanted to bring you over. A part of him wanted you to officially see all of him, all of his life and show you off to his family.
Because he loved you.
let me know if you guys want an epilogue of reader meeting Francis' family! it could be fun to write. hope you enjoyed this. god I love him so much. in Francis we trust 🛐🛐🛐
