#in my defense i did start it like a month and a half ago i just didn't continue it until now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chvoswxtch · 10 months ago

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Court baby i've waiting for this moment! I have this idea for a fic living rent free in my head. Its Frank x fem!reader. They were in a very cozy and confy moment when the snap happened and reader was blipped! You could write how Frank deald with those five years and with reader coming back. With a lot of angst moments and flufly and maybe spicy after she comes back. I would love if you accept this request! Thank you, I love you ❤️

i'm not gonna lie to you, the blip is my least favorite marvel storyline, but I love you so I put myself and frank through it just for you 🖤

I would say sorry that i'm about to emotionally wreck you but in my defense, you did ask for this so...enjoy or don't

warning: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, guns, & alcohol, heavy angst, very brief allusion to suicide (blink and you miss it) word count: 4.1k

the blip.

A split second. That’s how quickly Frank lost you. He turned his back for a second to refill his mug of coffee, and when he turned back around, you had vanished seemingly into thin air. At first he thought maybe you had gone back into the bedroom to grab a sweater or something. It had been a bit chilly in the kitchen, and you were always cold. But then a few seconds turned into a few minutes, and Frank didn’t hear any shuffling or soft footsteps. He didn’t hear anything at all. The crisp silence had an icy sense of dread trickling down his spine, and when he didn’t hear your sweet voice responding to his cautious calls of your name, he went into a full blown panic.

You were gone.

Year One.

This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t be. There was no way he had survived losing Maria and the kids just to find you, to let your endless patience and irrevocable empathy fill the gaping void in his chest, only to lose you too. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Frank didn’t consider himself a good man; he was well aware of and acquainted with his demons. But he didn’t deserve this.

Did he?

It was forty-eight hours before anyone even knew what happened. One giant asshole snapped his fingers, and half the universe’s population ceased to exist. Frank had stopped believing in God a lifetime ago, and he certainly didn’t believe in aliens or otherworldly creatures. He had seen first hand during his time in the Marines that mankind was the real monster. But it didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in it, because it happened, and not even the fucking Avengers could stop it. Hell, half of them were gone too.

Two weeks after the snap, news broke that Thanos had been killed, and that the Infinity Stones were destroyed, but the remaining members of the Avengers were trying to come up with a way to bring everyone back. For months Frank was glued to every news outlet, frantically waiting for even the smallest of updates. Anything was something. He refused to believe that the snap was permanent. The Avengers were going to find a way to bring everyone back. They had to.

Your pillowcase had stopped smelling like your shampoo, and Frank found himself using it and your body wash just to keep your scent on the sheets. He burned your favorite candles and read your favorite books. He wouldn’t stay gone longer than fifteen minutes in case you finally came home. He wanted to be there when you did. Frank kept himself busy with little projects around the house, things that you had mentioned changing or updating that he had promised he would get around to and never did. Frank swore to himself when you came home, things would be different.

He would take that trip you wanted to go on. He’d take you to the shelter to pick out a dog like you had been talking about. Maybe you two would finally start a family. Whatever you wanted, he’d give you. He’d find a way to give you the goddamn moon and every single star in the sky if you wanted them.

As soon as you came home.

But then a year went by, and nothing had changed. The anniversary of the snap came and went, and everyone seemed to give up hope on bringing everyone back, or they just decided to move on and accept that no one was coming back.

But Frank couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe you were really gone.

Year Two.

The worst part about the snap was that Frank couldn’t collect his vengeance in blood like he had with his family. The one who took you from him was already dead, and even if he hadn’t been, Frank had no way of reaching him. Thanos was a Titan, someone who was revered as a God to those that followed him, and Frank was just a man. A man poisoned with rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. So, he did what he was good at. He punished. Even though half the universe’s population was gone, that didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters left on Earth.

Frank killed without mercy or prejudice. There was no sin too harmless for his wrath. His fists collided with skin and bone until there was nothing left but ivory fragments tainted crimson and torn flesh. He didn’t stop, not even when his destructive blows caused his own knuckles to crack. It had gotten to the point where he hardly reached for a gun anymore unless he absolutely had to. He preferred to use his hands or serrated steel. He wanted to inflict every ounce of pain that he felt inside on whoever was stupid enough to get in his way.

It was like he wasn’t even mentally present anymore. His conscience had been shut off somehow, and all that was left was a relentless killing machine. Whenever he ran out of targets in the city, he moved on to hunt in the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He lived primarily out of his van, or whatever dingy motel he came across on the road. He hadn’t stepped foot in your home in almost a year. He couldn’t. It was haunted by your memory, and he couldn’t desecrate the home you two had made together with what he had become.

You would be ashamed of him. You would be disgusted and horrified by the things he had done. That thought echoed in his head as he watched the water continue to run red while he stood under the weak spray of the shower head. He didn’t know what town or even what state he was in. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, or what month it was. He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were gone, and he had nothing left.

Nothing left but the white hot fury that infected his veins and had him seeking out blood like water in the desert.

Year Three.

Frank couldn’t visit you, not like he could Maria and the kids. He couldn’t even have the closure of burying you, because there wasn’t a body. There was no final resting place for you, and he didn’t think that was fucking fair. Today was your birthday, and Frank had been drowning himself in whiskey trying to dilute the painful memories that played in his head like a haunting home movie.

The angelic sound of your voice as you read him whatever book your nose was buried in that week, your fingers slipping through his dark tresses while he laid his head on your chest and listened in pure content. The feeling of your soft lips on his heated skin and delicate noises of pleasure as your bodies connected like they were made for each other. Your melodic laughter, the silkiness of your skin, slow dancing in the living room with the moon acting as a spotlight.

All the words he never said. All the promises he didn’t get to keep. All the dreams that wouldn’t come true.

Somehow Frank found himself in a church. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in one. Maybe it was Sunday school back when his parents still forced him to go. He had stumbled in, his heavy boots thudding along the aisle, the only other sound coming from the amber liquid sloshing around in the half empty bottle in his hand. He stopped when he got to the front, looking up at the stained glass depictions of angels, until his weary eyes landed on the savior that was nailed to the giant cross.

Frank glared at him for several minutes before hurling the half empty bottle right at the head of the statue, causing a firework explosion of shimmering shards of glass to rain over the altar and various candles that had been lit for loved ones that had passed on. His rough voice boomed throughout the empty space.

“You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you take me, huh? Why not me? She ain’t never done a goddamn thing wrong. I’m the one you want. I’m the one that deserves it. I’m the goddamn killer here, huh? I’m the fuckin’ Punisher. So you bring her back, and you take me!”

Frank started grabbing bibles from the pews and hurling them at the statue with all his strength. In his inebriated state, some of them flew right past the statue and knocked over other small figurines and candlesticks. He let out a guttural war cry every time he threw a new one, and by the time he ran out of steam, he was panting heavily, and tears had formed in his eyes.

Dropping to his knees, he looked up at the melancholic face of the statue that matched his own, and he did something he hadn’t done in years.

He prayed.

“Please. Please, just bring her back. I’ll take her place…I won’t fight…just…just bring her back. I’m beggin’ you…I’ll do whatever it takes, alright? Just…you can’t…you can’t do this to me again. You can’t. I may deserve it, but she don’t…okay so just…just…”

Frank was tired. Three years without you was too long. He hadn’t been able to find the peace that he had found after Maria and the kids. He spent a year waging war on everyone, and it did nothing. He spent the last few months drowning himself in booze, and it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and there was nothing to keep him going. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back, so what the hell was he still getting out of bed every morning for?

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Frank pulled out a revolver and stared down at it. There was only one bullet in the chamber, and it wasn’t meant for anyone but him. If God wouldn’t bring you back, then he would go to you.

As soon as he cocked the hammer, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“You don’t wanna do that, Frank.”

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Frank squinted his blurry eyes before turning back around, shaking his head with a dry laugh.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Half the goddamn universe gets wiped out, and I get stuck with the fuckin’ altar boy.”

“Frank-”

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Red. Just cause there’s only one bullet in this chamber don’t mean I won’t handle your ass.”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few cautious steps towards where Frank was on his knees in front of the altar.

“You’re drunk-”

“And you’re fuckin’ relentless. Go home.”

“Look, whoever you lost-”

“Whoever I lost? I lost everyone, Red!”

Matt didn’t flinch when Frank suddenly rose from his knees and stormed over towards him, his loud voice booming in the silence as they stood barely an inch apart. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, his lips pursed as he grit his teeth.

“You think you’re the only one that’s lost everyone you’ve ever cared about, Frank?”

“Then what the hell are you waitin’ on, huh? You too much of a fuckin’ pussy to do it yourself, huh? That it? You need me to do it for you?”

Matt carefully reached out to place his hand on Frank’s arm, lowering the gun that was in his hand while he spoke in a calm voice.

“I don’t want to die, Frank. And I don’t think you want to either. You just want the pain to stop. But if you do this, it’s permanent, and you’ll never know if she came back.”

Frank shook his head and blew a puff of hot air out of his lips, his dark brows scrunching up in pure annoyance and frustration.

“She ain’t comin’ back-”

“You don’t know that. She’s not dead, Frank. She’s lost. Maybe she’s with Karen and Foggy. Frank, someone came down from another planet and wiped out half the universe. Is it so crazy to think that could be undone?”

The anger that was simmering inside Frank from Matt’s intrusion seemed to be burning through the alcohol in his system, and Matt’s question was igniting a tiny ember of hope that Frank wasn’t prepared to tend to. His body physically deflated as he dropped his head between his broad shoulders. There was a heavy tide of tears on his bottom lash line threatening to flood at any moment.

“Don’t do that.”

“You have to have faith, Frank-“

“I don’t, Red.”

“I do.”

Frank didn’t know when Matt managed to slip the revolver from his grasp, but he didn’t feel the weight of a permanent decision in his palm anymore. Matt had planted a tiny seed of hope, and what if’s were taking over Frank’s brain like wild ivy.

What if there was a chance you could come back? Matt had a point, you weren’t dead. Not really. Even if the probability of it happening was one in a million, didn’t Frank owe you the same unwavering patience you had always shown him?

“Look Frank, just…give me a year. One year to show you things can be different. If you still want to make that call in a year, I won’t stop you. I’ll leave you alone. But Frank…you’ve gotten through this once before. You can do this again. If not for yourself, just try for her.”

A year. A year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Frank had already been without you for three years now.

What was one more?

Year Four.

Matt’s apartment was fucking obnoxious due to that goddamn billboard across the street, but it was better than the shitty motels Frank had been staying in. He still couldn’t step foot in the home he had shared with you. It had been three years now, and even though he wasn’t fully convinced you could come back, he couldn’t let it go. Everything that was you was there, and if he sold the house, that meant every trace of you and your existence was gone.

Matt had one rule for Frank staying with him; no killing. For a week, Frank lounged on the couch trying to figure out what to do with himself. He would start to read a book, but could never get more than a few pages because he remembered how much you loved to read, and then he would get stuck staring at the pages while memories of you played on loop in his head. There wasn’t a TV because Matt didn’t have use for one, and Frank didn’t care to watch anything anyway. It didn’t take long for Frank to go stir crazy. He had never been good at staying idle.

While Matt was out making the world a better place, Frank had managed to find a construction job. Busting down walls all day long allowed him to get his pent up anger out while not breaking Matt’s golden rule. Most days it felt like Frank was on autopilot. He woke up, went to the job site, smashed a sledgehammer through a wall until his hands bled, came home, tried to sleep, inevitably had a nightmare about losing you, and laid on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun rose.

Every single day was a repeat of the last until they started to blur together. Frank didn’t speak to anyone at the job sites. He didn’t speak to anyone at all. Between Matt’s busy court schedule and his nightly patrols, they didn’t see each other often, and even when they were home at the same time, Frank still hardly spoke to him. He wasn’t sleeping, he barely ate, and on the days he had off, he didn’t leave the couch. He felt like a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

Matt knew what he was going through. Hell, he had been there himself after the second time he lost Elektra. He knew what it felt like to lose the person you loved most in this world, and that had happened to Frank twice now. He did his best to be patient, but after four months, he couldn’t take it anymore. Matt was fortunate that he’d had people that helped him combat his depression to find his way back to himself, but Frank didn’t have a soul in his corner.

Except for Matt.

And even though Frank wasn’t shy about not wanting Matt’s help, Matt didn’t care. Frank could be stubborn, but he didn’t have the energy or the drive to match Matt’s stubbornness, and Matt used that to his advantage. He was relentless in pushing Frank to participate in life again. He purposely antagonized Frank, even if it meant being reduced to a human punching bag, because that meant Frank was still in there somewhere.

Matt started small in getting him out of the apartment, like guilt tripping Frank into joining him on trips to the grocery store.

“You’re not gonna help your blind roommate get groceries? You know, a lot of items don’t come with braille labels. So when I die because I accidentally put bleach in my coffee instead of creamer, you have to say nice things about me at my funeral.”

“You don’t need labels, Red. You got that goddamn bloodhound nose. Would you stop lookin’ at me like that? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine. Get your fuckin’ jacket and let’s go.”

After a while, he even managed to get Frank to join him at Fogwell’s from time to time.

“No wonder you became a goddamn lawyer. All you know how to do is fuckin’ argue, makes sense you made a livin’ outta it.”

“I’m not arguing, Frank. If we got in the ring, you would lose. That’s a fact. You don’t know how to box, you just know how to run at people and slam them into things. And you’re too bulky to move as fast as me. None of that is an argument, it’s a simple observation.”

“Why don’t you observe your ass in that ring so I can shut you the fuck up, Red.”

The more time they spent together, and the more Frank put in an effort to move forward one step at a time, the less empty he felt. The nightmares still came every so often, and there were days where the weight of your absence was too much for him to bear, but for the first time in four years, he didn’t feel so hopeless.

He could think about you without breaking down. He could see something that reminded him of you, and it warmed his heart instead of ripping it out. He had finally reached a point where he had slowly crawled out of the deep pit of grief that he had been digging for the past four years.

As much as he hated to admit it, Matt had helped him find a semblance of peace.

Year Five.

The sound of a dog barking caught Frank’s attention. He pulled his head out from under the hood of his truck, looking over at the grey and white pitbull that was standing a few feet away from the front door of the house you and Frank had lived in together that he’d finally moved back into six months ago. He glanced between the front door and the dog with his thick brows furrowed.

“What is it, Daisy?”

The dog turned her head when she heard Frank’s voice, the movement so fast it made her long velvet ears flop. She turned her attention back to the door and continued to bark. Something inside had caught her attention. Eyeing the front door warily, Frank rubbed his grease stained hands off on a small rag and walked over towards where Daisy was, kneeling down beside her to gently scratch that spot between her ears that she loved.

“Hey, shh shh shh. C’mon now, what’s got you so worked up, huh? What do you think is inside, huh? You smellin’ that-”

The sound of the front door opening caught Frank’s attention, and he instantly snapped his head in the direction of it. All of a sudden, his warm brown eyes went wide, and time seemed to freeze in that very moment.

“Sweetheart?”

His quiet whisper was dripped in disbelief. There you were, looking exactly the same as the day you had vanished, looking between Frank and Daisy with an expression of surprise and perplexment.

“Frank?”

God, your voice. It had been five years since he had last heard it. That was all the confirmation he needed that this was real. You were real. You were really home.

Without wasting a second, Frank stood and ran over towards you, tears filling up his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your frame and hugged you as tightly as physically possible. His heart was thrashing against his ribcage, and he was terrified this was just a vivid dream, but then he inhaled the scent of your shampoo intermingled with your perfume, felt your hands gently pressing against his back, and heard your soft angelic laughter.

“Frankie…baby…you’re crushing me.”

Frank pulled back only slightly, bringing his large hands up to cup your face to study your features, taking in every single inch of you. He caught the way you frowned softly, looking up at him in pure concern when thick tears streamed down his cheeks. You lifted your hand to delicately brush them away with the featherlight touch of your fingers.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re really here.”

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be? Baby, why are you so upset?”

As you ran your hands through his long grown out curls, a crease of bewilderment nestled in between your brows when you took in his appearance.

“Wait…what happened to your hair? It was just short five seconds ago…and you didn’t have a beard. How…how did you do that? And when did we get a dog? Frank, what-”

Five seconds ago.

Is that all it was for you? Frank could see the visible disorientation on your delicate features, and he had a lot of questions of his own, but right now nothing mattered but you. He leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past five years into it. He kissed you like the world could end at any moment, because for him it did the day you vanished.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a deep exhale of relief.

“You…you were gone, sweetheart. You were gone a long time…a long goddamn time.”

“Gone? What-”

“I’ll explain everythin’, I promise. Just…just give me a minute, please. Just let me hold you for a minute, can you do that for me, baby? Please?”

Frank had always been able to read you like a book, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t just confused. Hearing you had been gone for a long time infused you with a sense of panic and uncertainty. But you trusted Frank, and you knew whatever hard truth he was going to tell you, he wouldn’t let you go through it alone.

“Okay.”

As Frank embraced you again, you suddenly felt a pair of paws on your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the happy dog wagging its tail while looking between you and Frank. Reaching down, you gently pet the side of her face with a soft smile.

“Hi there, precious.”

“Daisy.”

Glancing up at Frank, your lips parted slightly when Frank told you her name. A soft smile covered his lips, the first smile to do so in five years. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear slowly.

“You always said if we got a dog and it was a girl, you wanted to name her Daisy.”

Tears welled up along your bottom lash line as you looked up at Frank, a gentle smile covering your lips. After a moment, you glanced away from Frank to look at Daisy again, letting out a soft laugh.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Daisy.”

Frank gave your waist a light squeeze, leaning in to press a soft lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And we’ve been waitin’ a long time for you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle request #frank castle fic #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher fic #matt murdock #daredevil

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seravphs · 1 year ago

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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ITOSHI SAE x FEM READER

Even when you’re no longer dating Sae, Rin always comes running to you when they have a fight.

wc — 1k

tags — angst, childhood friends to lovers to exes, reader treats Rin like her little brother

“You shouldn’t keep doing this.”

Rin’s eyes shutter. That’s the only way to describe it. He’s so good at that - flicking the switch that turns it off.

Or maybe it’s unintentional. It’s always a reaction, after all. The little stars in his eyes fade in and out, hints of the little boy he was. To you, he’ll always be that kid.

He steps off your stoop. “You said-“

He shuts himself up, jaw closing around what he wants to say next. You know Rin, even now. He won’t want to show his hand to you. He was so cute as a kid, running to you with all his little cuts and bruises. Now he’s all wounded pride, too grown up to come asking for a kiss to heal the hurt.

You grab his shoulder before he can walk away. He’s so easy to read it makes your heart ache. He’s half yours, after all.

“I didn’t mean you should leave.”

“I’m not going to stay where I’m not wanted,�� Rin says stiffly.

It’s a testament to your enduring relationship that he shared that at all. You let a huffed laugh escape you, reach up to ruffle his hair. He’s still so cute to you, even when he acts tough.

“What if I said I wanted you to stay?”

“There’s no need to lie.”

“Don’t sulk, Rin-Rin. You know I’d never turn you away.”

It’s true - even if you broke up with Sae months ago, Rin would always have a seat at your table. You had promised him.

You usher Rin inside and sit him down on your couch. He hunches in on himself, bangs hanging in his eyes. You resist the urge to clip them up for him, not knowing how much coddling he’ll tolerate.

“What’s wrong, honey?” You ask as you rummage through the pantry. Where is it? You know you bought it after the last week he showed up, just in case he came back.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says defensively. “I just wanted to see you.”

Since he won’t be able to tell, you allow yourself to roll your eyes. You know Rin loves you, but that’s not why he’s here. Reaching into the fridge, you take out the rice from last night along with some other leftovers. The tea you took from the pantry goes into a cup to steep.

“Whenever you’re ready, then. You know I’m not going to push.”

Rin makes a muffled grunt that could either yes or no. You bring the food over to him. You barely set it down before he’s looking up at you with those sorrowful eyes and you can’t resist the urge to hold him any longer. You let him rest his head against your stomach as you stroke his hair, rubbing his back gently.

Rin turns his head against you, further nuzzling into you. He’s only like this with you. He’s your baby, after all. You and Sae had practically raised him. When he tilts his head, you can see the crystalline clump to his lashes and the frown on his face.

There’s only one person who can reduce Rin to that state.

You let Rin have his fill of comfort before he lets you go to start on his meal. Then, you walk into the other room for some privacy before you give your ex a piece of your mind.

Sae picks up half a second after the first ring. Predictably, he lets you speak first.

“What did you do?”

“Was I away for so long I forgot how the Japanese say hello? I could’ve sworn-“

“Hello, Sae. What did you do to Rin?”

There’s a beat of annoyed silence.

“Why is that any of your business? We’re broken up, remember?”

You do remember. You’d been the one to call it quits, after all.

“Rin’s with me-“

“Brat,” Sae‘s tone is all annoyance. “Running to my ex-girlfriend just because we had a fight?”

“So you did do something!”

“I’m coming over.”

“Don’t-“

He hung up.

“Rin, honey?” You call into the other room, receiving a yes through a mouth of food in reply. “Sae might be coming here.”

That gets him up immediately. The door flies open and Rin stands there, looking at you with betrayed eyes that batter your heart. “Why?”

“No, I didn’t tell him to! He just said he was coming - listen, you don’t have to say anything to him, okay? You can just stay here. I’ll talk to him.”

“I don’t want you guys to talk without me.”

Even if he doesn’t say it explicitly, you know what the underlying meaning of his words are. He wants to hear what Sae has to say, even if it hurts.

He doesn’t want the two of you to fight.

There’s a knock at the door. You and Rin share a look before he’s sprinting for it, you chasing after him. There’s no way you can outrun him, but still-

You won’t be able to bear the look in his eyes when he sees Sae. He always makes the same face every time. Big, starry eyes for his big brother, his hero - right before Sae opens his mouth and crushes those stars in his bare fist.

The door opens.

In thinking about Rin, you had forgotten something crucial. Seeing your ex again stops your heart.

“Are you serious?” Sae says, annoyed. He’s dressed lightly, in a simple T-shirt and shorts. His hair is rumpled. “You can’t handle a little argument so you have to have her comfort you? How old are you?”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” you snap.

“Why are you even letting him into your house?” Sae asks. “We’re over.”

“We’re over,” you remind him. You should’ve predicted that nothing productive would come out of seeing him. The lingering feelings of resentment from your failed relationship are boiling inside of you. “Rin and I are fine.”

You try to shut the door in his face. When he doesn’t budge, you huff and walk away, back inside.

“Where are you going? We’re not done.”

“I’m taking Rin home,” you’re already snatching your keys off the table.

“I can do it. He’s my brother-“

Rin comes up behind you, clenches his fingers into the hem of your shirt. Plays the role of a little brother so well as he can only do with you, because you let him. You encourage him to, actually. You had always wanted a little brother, and when Sae had introduced you to Rin, you had practically adopted him for your own.

Sae’s probably regretting that decision now, seeing Rin’s silent choice. The minute Sae’s face falls, seeing this, you want to take it back, but how would Rin feel if you did? You can’t.

“Alright,” Sae says, defeated, just the way you wanted but somehow it doesn’t feel good at all. “I understand.”

#sera writes #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae angst #sae angst #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk angst #blue lock angst

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peridots-pixiwolf · 9 months ago

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[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.

Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.

In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]

If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)

Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]

The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]

> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!

Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.

Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.

Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.

Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.

Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.

Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!

Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.

Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).

(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)

Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).

Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]

#survivor rain world #monk rain world #hunter rain world #nightcat rain world #gourmand rain world #artificer rain world #rivulet rain world #spearmaster rain world #saint rain world #enot rain world #slugcat rain world #rain world #peridots-art #< feels like too long since that last tag's been used. i can say with certainty that the majority of the reason i haven't been just as #active here (not to mention not drawing as often since that's relevant) is just due to my life getting busier with a new school year but i #do miss putting my stuff here! and would like to reblog more on top of that.... so forgive not remembering exactly how to tag everything #(and how to write everything up there but to be fair it's not like long textposts were a staple of mine. i mostly just rambled and it was #fun hehehe.....some of those notes (parts of riv/spears mostly) were written around the beginning of the drawing itself)#OH i messed something up with the drafting and really did not mean to post it while tags were in progress! but regardless. i would've liked #to post it tomorrow to mirror how i was going to post it on JAN 29 a month ago......but it's not like i'm unhappy with this outcome :]#to sum it up really though it's been strange working on this for so long.....unfortunate to not get a chance to let it be seen and keep #experimenting with odd biology much earlier but i'm just glad it's out now cause i am proud of these!! it's been a lot of fun and slugcats #are still my go-to doodles :] if i had to end this off promptly though what's up with that secret pipeyard shelter as gourm that's not on #the maps. connected to vs_a04. doesn't appear on the miraheze or interactive maps for anyone strangely but i've only been there as gourmand #anyway! i'm sure there's a lot i could've said in the rush but goodbye dear reader anyway :]#i forgot spearmy initially. i'm so sorry

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sommerbueckers · 5 months ago

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My Brother's Best Friend Pt6

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Noella chewed silently on a salted pretzel as I disclosed the details of my hookups with a certain blonde. We had been talking for a whopping hour and a half per Noella's request to know every single detail.

"You're telling me, that you lost your girl on girl virginity two years ago and never told me?" Noella finally asked after swallowing a bite of her food.

"That's all you got from this?" I frowned, unimpressed.

"No, no no. I just need a minute to process the fact that you've been secretly hooking up with Paige for almost a month," Noella said.

"Okay in my defense, I thought that weak shit two years ago was gonna be a one-time thing," I argued, resting my elbows on the table.

"But?"

I sighed, "But then she came into my room to say 'goodbye' after Thanksgiving break."

Noella snorted and shook her head, tucking a few strands behind her ear. "You're insane, you know that?"

"Insanely active," I smirked.

Noella ripped a piece of her pretzel off and squished it around with her fingers before eating it. I waited patiently for her to say something, to either continue my dirty joke or change the subject entirely. When she finally did speak, I wished it had been one of the above.

"So what's the deal with you two? Are you talking, dating, like, what's up?" she asked.

I didn't know the answer, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about what it could be on multiple occasions. Whether it was by choice or it was simply because I didn't have the courage to talk to anyone else, I was exclusively hooking up with Paige. But that didn't mean that she was exclusively hooking up with me. College did interesting things to a person. It not only made you, in Paige's case, blonder and hotter, but it also made you wilder.

How could I be sure that Paige wasn't keeping herself busy when she was 1,300 miles away from me? I couldn't, and that's what scared me the most. I was carelessly giving her the key to my heart, not even caring what she did with it. For all I knew she was looking for someone else to pass the responsibility onto and having her own fun along the way.

But then I thought back to earlier, how this hookup felt different from the others. We had started off slower, savoring the taste of each other's lips. She told me she missed me. Was that all just a hoax to get me to let my guard down easier? The way her eyes had traced every detail of my face, admiringly staring at me. No, it couldn't be.

Was I driving myself crazy?

"You still there babe?" Noella waved her freshly manicured hand in front of my face, pulling my attention back toward her.

"Yeah, yeah i'm here," I nodded.

"Okay...Are you gonna answer the question?" The blonde was now leaning back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at me with quizzical eyes.

I shrugged silently and slid my slushy off the table, toying around with the straw before taking a long sip. "I would if I could."

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Game night in the Collymor house was hands down the most anxiously anticipated event of the month. Six players, three teams, and a different selection of games every time. The night consisted of greasy foods and hot takes swirling around in a pool of competitiveness. Everyone wanted to win, but at the end of it all, only one team would walk away smiling.

I adjusted my pajamas in the mirror, a light pink floral set with dark pink flowers scattered throughout it. My hair was freshly washed, hanging down my back in soaked spirals dripping with product. I applied a layer of chapstick to my lips, a popping noise echoing in the room after I'd finished.

Noella was seated on the bed, scrolling idly on her phone as she waited for me to finish. I had never put much into my appearance on game night mainly because of how long the night lasted, but this time was different. Paige was here per usual, but I knew she was looking at me. Suddenly, Noella groaned from behind me, and her eyes shot up to meet mine in the reflection.

"What is it?" I frowned.

"Please respond in this fucking group chat, these bitches won't listen to me," she complained.

"What group chat?"

"The cheer chat," she breathed out, narrowing her eyes.

"What are they saying?" I asked as I moved to grab my phone from my dresser.

"They don't believe me about the practice times changing. Just because i'm not head captain, doesn't mean i'm clueless!" Her eyebrows were knitted together as she spoke, frustration evident in her expression.

Cheer was practically Noella's life, and when the captain title was passed down to me, she was heartbroken. So, I made sure that she had as much power on the leaderboard as I did.

I read over the messages in the group chat, frowning as I learned how they had out right ignored Noella's info text about the practice times. Before I could figure out how to address it, I heard my mom calling everyone from downstairs.

Sighing, I set the phone down on the bed. "We'll deal with it later, c'mon."

I grabbed her hand and we made our way out of the room where we ran into Micah and Paige in the hallway. They were clad in various shades of purple; lilac socks, lavender shirts, amethyst basketball shorts they had gotten from an athletic camp last summer. They held proud smiles on their faces as they emerged from the cave Micah called a room.

Noella snorted, "No way you guys coordinated your outfits."

"So what if we did?" Micah frowned, "It's better than those pieces of string you two call pajamas."

"At least I wear pajamas! Can't imagine waking up with literally nothing covering my chest," she retorted.

The two of them descended the steps, their petty bickering continuing. Before I could follow after them, I felt a familiar hand graze over my butt. My motions came to a halt when Paige leaned over to whisper in my ear, "These things are little."

I bit my lip when she gently squeezed, "Try not to let 'em throw you off your game."

She scoffed and slipped past me, "You and I both know that's not possible."

The comment was meant to be funny, and I tried to find the will within me to laugh as I walked down the steps and into the living room, but I just couldn't. I had probably taken it deeper and more personal than I should've, letting the poisonous meaning I had interpreted it to have infect my mind.

'You and I both know that's not possible.'

Paige completely pulled my attention away from everything else. She was the first person I looked for when I entered a room, regardless of whether I knew she was there or not. When I was in her presence, I was hyperaware of everything I did. Was I breathing too quickly -- too slowly? Was I walking funny? Should I fix my hair? I'd carefully plan my outfits on the days I knew Micah had invited her over, obnoxiously discreetly placing myself wherever they'd be.

In the midst of all of that; all the planning, the watching, the waiting, had Paige even given me a second thought? On the days that she'd come over straight after practice, was she subconscious about the fact that she smelled funky? On the summer days that our family spent at our lake house, was she worried about what I'd think of her in her bathing suit? Could she have even considered me for a moment as I unwittingly surrendered my heart to her?

Who was I kidding? Of course she hadn't, and after thinking over our entire relationship, I didn't know how I hadn't seen it sooner.

Paige was a basketball phenom; McDonald's All American, she had made the cover of SLAM magazine, and she was destined to go to the WNBA.

And I was just her best friend's little sister.

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its short, ik, don't be mad. but in my defense when i started this story i didn't think people would actually like it so i didn't have a real storyline in mind. IM TRYING HERE.

there's so much cooking in my brain i can't keep up w everything

probably gonna start another series soon too😫

#brother's best friend #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #wlw post #uconn wbb #wlw #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc

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sluttywonwoo · 2 years ago

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pairing: joshua hong x fem!reader (ft. ex bf!kim sunwoo)

summary: you should’ve told your boyfriend the truth about that stranger at the grocery store. inspired by an audio by @/aas on quinn (iykyk)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: swearing, heavy jealousy (maybe a lil toxic lol), possessiveness, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), spit kink, orgasm control, unprotected sex

a/n: this is my formal apology to kim sunwoo, nothing personal buddy

masterlist

“what was your favorite position when you were together?”

“w-what?”

“you heard me,” joshua says, folding his arms across his broad chest. “what was your favorite position with him? the one you guys did the most?”

“shua-”

“just answer the goddamn question.”

it feels like a trap.

and in a way, it is. what answer could your boyfriend possibly be looking for?

all because you ran into your ex-boyfriend at the grocery store. things hadn’t ended on a particularly good note with sunwoo, but it had been years since then so you figured there was no harm in making small talk with him while you both waited in line to order subs. you had been wrong.

joshua had finished his half of the shopping and joined you in line, immediately catching on to the way the dude was hanging on to every word you said.

must be one of the guys from her cohort, he thought to himself. cute.

he wrapped an arm around your waist and took your basket to hold while you waited together, making note of the stranger’s reactions to his possessive little display. he didn’t want to overdo it since you weren’t a big fan of pda and the guy seemed relatively harmless but he also didn’t want to let him think he had a chance.

you made no move to introduce the two to each other so joshua just played along, joining in on the conversation with you and whoever you were talking to like he’d known the guy for years.

he assumed you’d tell him who he was in the car. you don’t. he has to be the one to ask.

“so who was that?” he tries to sound casual about it but he’s sure the coldness in his voice gives him away.

“hm?”

“in publix? the guy we were just talking to?”

“oh. that was sunwoo.”

sunwoo. the name sounds familiar. then it clicks.

“kim sunwoo? your sunwoo?”

you sink down in your seat at the way he says ‘your sunwoo’ but joshua doesn’t let up.

“we were just talking to your ex-boyfriend in there? and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“how was i supposed to tell you?” you counter defensively. “it’s not like i can just say that right in front of him!”

“sure you can! at the very least you could have introduced us to each other. i would’ve caught on to his name.”

“that’s exactly why i didn’t,” you mumble.

“what? what do you mean?”

“i didn’t tell you who he was because i knew you’d get all… jealous like this.”

“i’m not jealous!” joshua scoffs, painfully self-aware of just how jealous he sounds. “i just… can’t believe you let me be all buddy-buddy with the guy. i laughed at his jokes! i smiled politely at him!”

“as opposed to what, scowling menacingly?” you mutter.

“something like that.”

sunwoo is the only other serious partner you’ve ever had. the only one you had lived with other than joshua. the one who came right before joshua.

joshua knows he’s acting unreasonably. you’re with him now. you’re happy with him, you love him, and that’s all that should matter. he knows you’re not about to go running off to your ex. so why does he feel so goddamn jealous pissed off?

joshua drags you to the bedroom soon as the groceries are unpacked and in their respective spots in either the fridge or the pantry. your sandwiches are left forgotten on the kitchen counter as he yanks your clothes off and kneels on the floor in front of you.

he makes you cum on his tongue before he says another word to you, trying to drown himself in you as you ride his face. when your legs start to tremble, he lays you down on the edge of the bed and finishes you off like that, not wanting a repeat incident of what had happened in the shower a couple months ago.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize breathlessly afterward, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. “i should have told you who he was in the store.”

joshua brushes it off. “it’s okay, baby.”

you shake your head. “it’s not. i should have thought about how it would make you feel.”

joshua sighs, spreading your legs again so that he can slot himself in between them and lay on top of you. he doesn’t feel like having this conversation right now, feels like he can’t think rationally when he’s like… this. hard and jealous and angry with you. he needs to clear his head. and to do that—

he asks the question. the one that has you staring up at him with those big wide eyes of yours.

“are you going to make me ask you again?”

you shake your head vigorously. “um, no. it was- we… missionary.”

joshua raises an eyebrow, subtly amused by your answer. “really?”

“mhm, but like with my ankles crossed behind his back? i don’t think it technically counts as a mating press but-”

“i’ve heard enough.”

“sorry.”

to be fair, he had asked. he just hasn’t expected you to go into detail about it. he walked right into that one.

the mental image of another man, of sunwoo between your legs, kissing your neck, getting you to moan his name, is enough to send joshua into a mini spiral but he doesn’t let himself dwell on it.

“scoot up a little,” he tells you as he grabs a pillow from the top of the bed. “lift your hips.”

he slides the pillow underneath you with one hand and unbuckles his belt with the other, ignoring the way you whimper and reach for his pants. he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of undressing him, instead doing it himself while you sit there and watch with a pout.

he doesn’t drag it out even though he’s tempted to. he wants to tease you, make you whine and beg for his cock. but he needs to feel you, needs to be inside of you right this fucking instant.

he’s on top of you as soon as he gets his boxers off, running his hands along your thighs as he lines himself up.

“ready, baby?”

you nod.

“words, my love. you know i need words.”

“yes, yes i’m ready,” you assure him with an impatient wiggle of your hips.

“good girl. think you can wrap your legs around my waist for me?”

you frown up and cock your head to the side. he wasn’t trying to be discreet, but he still feels a bit sheepish that you’ve caught on.

“shua, what is this about?”

he sighs. “i’m trying to prove a point here. c’mon, squeeze your thighs around me.”

“you know you have nothing to prove though, right?” you press. “you’re the best i’ve ever been with. i mean yeah the sex with him was good but it was nowhere near-”

“baby, please,” joshua practically begs, unable to stand hearing any more about your ex-boyfriend fucking you (even though, again, he was the one to bring it up). “let me do this?”

“right, sorry.”

joshua smirks and leans down to kiss you again, feeling himself twitch against your thigh when you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. he pulls away after another moment or so and slaps his cock against your cunt a couple of times, making you whimper pitifully in the back of your throat.

then, he lets go of himself and brings his hand to your mouth.

“spit.”

you do, right into the palm of his hand, and joshua uses the saliva to lubricate the length of his cock before pushing the tip inside of you.

you’d been watching him the whole time but as soon as he starts filling you up you let your head fall back onto the mattress with a quiet “fuck”.

“you’re so fucking wet,” joshua groans.

he goes slowly for his own sake. you feel too good, too perfect, for him to risk going any faster. he can’t cum yet, not when he’s just bottomed out, not after talking such a big game.

“god, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you this wet before. you’re making a mess, baby. was it all me, or was it him?”

“you… you-you’re hot when you’re jealous,” you say as way of explanation, making joshua laugh.

“maybe i am jealous,” he admits as he begins to move his hips. “is that really what’s gotten you all worked up?”

“mhm…”

“it is? it isn’t all those memories you have with him? of him doing this to you?”

your eyes go wide and you shake your head adamantly, like you can’t even believe he’d suggest that. admittedly, it was a little fucked up of joshua to say and he knows that, but the way you clench around him when he says it only spurs him on.

“‘m not thinking about him, i promise! i would n-never!”

he wraps a hand around your throat. “good. because you’re all mine now. isn’t that right?”

“yes! just yours, only yours.”

“that’s my girl. open.”

he spits into your mouth when you part your lips and stick out your tongue for him, clenching around him even harder when he does.

“i wanna cum,” you whine.

“already? but we’ve barely started.”

“i know… feels too good.”

“hold on a little longer for me, okay?”

“i can’t,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as if you’d be able to last longer by simply willing the orgasm away.

“don’t,” joshua warns, “you better not-”

you’re cumming as soon as the words leave his mouth. you’d tried your best to hold off but it was no use. the deck was stacked against you from the very beginning.

joshua isn’t mean enough to ruin the orgasm for you so he fucks you through it as you mumble out a string of apologies mixed in with you begging him not to stop.

he’s quite pleased with himself under the transparent guise of being disappointed with you for not following his instructions. he’s almost positive no one’s been able to make you cum that fast before. or that hard. and if they have… he doesn’t need to know.

“oh baby,” he coos condescendingly, wiping the tears that had fallen onto your cheeks with his thumb. “did that feel good?” you nod shyly like you’re not sure whether or not it’s a trick question. “i bet you’re really sensitive now, huh?” another nod. “that’s too bad, angel. because i am nowhere near done with you.”

literally could not stop thinking ab this concept when i heard it 🥴😵‍💫 but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove @tantofaz123-blog @lee-hjyjn @ateez-star @baesgyus @likexaxdaydream @sunniesoobin @thefairwhitelight @pretty-thoughts @yutayoongi @redamancygnf @hoe4wonwoo @yeostars @i-might-be-in-love-with-hao @camrenrodrigoswift1 @nichobins @bfwonu @arikimtanapon @ammcg0119 @redspider267 @fwess @horangipowerr @soobzao @kuleo26 @k00kiemonster99 @poutypoutybin @jeonghanspinkhair @jadiekinzz @yo0nspoon @djj6112 @drama-1998-girl @kjdlashes @5xiang @yeritheloml @slut4seokjin @nc-teen @jungkookswife24069 @tannieflix @romromthedeer @urvashi435 @aurumness @sunghoonth @y00nzin0 @saatans @ksy-horanghae @haogyuslut @crushonwoo @rinshabitat @ivivz @cixrosie @princessofallthatsweird @friseealamode @candidupped @joshuahongnumbers @bxby-bloom @guavagyu @zhangyixingxing1 @foxdaisy @emotionalwreckkk @imonanotherlebel @vern0nsworld @cyjsfairy @jihoonliker @freakyfriedrice @yeosayang @myaerii @lenireads @itbtoblikethatsometimes @vernonburger @soonhoonietrash @tinkerbell460 @shmooooo @tweetiebirb @sluttywoozi

add yourself to my taglist(s) here!!

#one-up #seventeen smut #svt smut #joshua smut #joshua hong smut #seventeen x trader #svt x trader #joshua hong x trader #joshua hong x female!reader

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 7 months ago

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Will Halstead (Ft Platonic! Jay Halstead): I'll Call Will

This was supposed to be short! Why can’t I ever just write a page or two? Oh well- I like how it turned out. I have no medical knowledge and I made shit up.

This is like my People We Love story reversed regarding it being more Platonic Jay x reader than Will x reader.

You shift and feel Jay’s eyes shoot to you. He had been eyeing you like a bomb that was about to explode since he got to your and Will’s apartment two hours ago. You were trying to ignore him and his detective's gaze, but it was starting to get irritating. “You know if you keep it up, I’m going to take your fun uncle shirt and replace it with a worry wart one.”

“You’ve been having cramps off and on since I got here, and you don’t look like you feel good.” You roll your eyes at your brother-in-law affectionately. Shooting him an amused look from across the couch and resting your hand on your prominent baby bump.

“It must be that glow everyone talks about. I'm almost seven months pregnant, Jay. Braxton Hicks is normal.” What you don’t want to tell him as they had been becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. You hadn’t gotten off the couch since he got here because you felt lightheaded with a side of vertigo. “I went to the OB last week for an appointment. They said everything was just fine. No problems, no restrictions.” You tell him and remind yourself.

You were trying to take the pregnancy in stride. People had babies in fields for years but it didn’t mean you didn’t get nervous sometimes. You had never been pregnant before and didn’t know what to expect and you had learned the hard way that Will was not the one to ask. He was a wealth of information. Too much information. It often made your anxiety worse after talking to him rather than better. He had too many horror stories from the ED.

Jay looked unconvinced but dropped the subject and went back to watching the trashy TV show you had turned on. The two of you watched another episode and a half with rounds of minor cramping on your part. The commercial was just ending when a cramp so painful jolted through your belly that it made you grab at it and whimper. When you blink Jay is in front of you. He looks angry but you have known him long enough to know it was actually worry clouding his features. “Okay that’s it we are going to the hospital.”

“Jay, I don’t think-” He doesn’t even let you finish your thought.

“You either let me take you to the hospital right now or I’ll call Will.” You search Jay’s eyes. “Your choice.” He is clearly over it and reaches for his cell. You can just imagine your husband after a call like that. He would leave work and speed home in a mad dash to get to you. You would feel so bad if he did all that for a few Braxton Hick contractions.

“Okay! Okay, fine, let’s go.” Jay wastes no getting you to your feet and out of the apartment steering you to his car. “Just what the world needed another Doctor Halstead, Will will be so proud.” You tell him before Jay rolls his eyes and closes the car door.

You sit in the hospital bed waiting for the OB to come back. Your doctor was out today and the woman that came in was all warm smiles and a reassuring tone. She must have been new because you didn’t recognize her or her name. “It looks like the cramping is just Braxton Hicks. It’s completely normal and nothing to worry about.” You looked over at Jay who had been lurking near the bed with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What? It was better to get you checked out just in case.” Jay’s tone is defensive, and you roll your eyes lovingly at your brother-in-law. The OB smiled at him and patted him comfortingly on the arm.

“It is a good thing that he brought you in.” You look at the woman in surprise because her tone goes serious. “Your blood pressure is much higher than I would like. Have you been under more stress than normal lately?” You sigh as you begrudgingly tell her about your increased workload. “Have you been feeling more fatigued than normal? Lightheaded, dizzy, or any vertigo?”

“I’m almost seven months pregnant, isn’t feeling off kind of normal?” You put your hand on your rounded stomach protectively.

“It can be but with your blood pressure being so high it’s concerning. I’m going to order a blood panel just to be on the safe side. Now, let’s take a peek at this baby.” The ultrasound is all normal. the OB points out your baby's face and hand. You look over at Jay who is watching the screen in awe. He had seen the pictures, but this was a new experience. He breathed a quiet wow as the quick heartbeat of the baby filled the room. “It all looks good. It shouldn’t take long for that panel then you will be good to go.”

A familiar nurse that you can’t name comes in and draws your blood. “Maybe I should message Will and let him know we are here.” Jay pulls his phone out of his pocket and begins typing.

“Why so he can wait with us? He is working- leave him alone. Besides that was our deal, wasn’t it? There isn’t an emergency.” Jay holds his hands up in surrender. “And will you sit down please- your pacing is driving me crazy.” Jay flops into the chair giving you a ‘happy now’ look. “Geez, it’s like having a real brother.”

“Yeah, and you're stuck with me. You and that bean, you got growing.”

You smile caressing your stomach, “I’m good with that.” As much as you had fought him on it, it was nice to know that he cared enough to drag you to the hospital. Jay was protective and you knew he was going to be a lot more than just the fun uncle who only stopped by when he felt like treating your kid to a good time. “Can I ask you something?” At his nod, you continued, “Why were you at my apartment at 2 in the afternoon on a day you knew Will worked a double? Did Will ask you to check up on me?”

“No,” You gave him a look of disbelief, “No, really, he didn’t. He didn’t ask me to come over or anything like that. He just mentioned that he thought you may not have been feeling good the last few days. So, I just wanted to make sure that you were- Are you crying?”

You were.

You had big crocodile tears running down your cheeks, “It’s the hormones. And honestly, that is just the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” More tears streamed down your face and Jay looked uncertain of what to do. When he saw a strategically placed tissue box, he grabbed it and held it out to you. You grabbed a few and started dabbing at your eyes. Your own family hadn’t been part of your life much since you had moved to Chicago. Not that they had been very good to you throughout your childhood into your twenties. You felt like you looked out for them more than they ever would for you. “I hope you know that I appreciate you and I’m so glad you are going to be in this baby's life. I love you, Jay.” He looked a little miffed but flattered as he rubbed your back soothingly.

“Of course, I love you too.”

You had gathered your raging emotions by the time the OB had returned. “Alright, everything looks good. I’m not going to put you on bed rest, but I highly encourage you to take it easy for the next few days.” You thank her and swing your legs over the bed to start the process of getting up, which is much harder now with a protruding belly. The woman paused in the doorway before turning and taking another step back into the room. You and Jay both look at her. “You know, another good natural way to get your blood pressure down is by having sex. I don’t see any problems with you having sexual activity right now. And with the looker you got- I would take every opportunity you get before the baby is the one keeping you up at night.” The doctor gives you a knowing wink before exiting the room.

You look over to see a mortified Jay. His eyes were closed tightly, and he brought his hand to scrub down the bottom half of his face. The woman had barely made it out the door when you started laughing uncontrollably. When Will walked into the room less than a minute later and looked at you in bemusement as you tried to catch your breath. “Everything okay?”

You immediately sober, “I told you not to bother him!” Will walked over to your bedside and helped you shuffle off the bed. His hand came to rest in its now familiar place on your stomach.

“He didn’t, Maggie saw your name on some bloodwork. Are you okay? Everything okay with the baby?” Will’s face was furrowed with concern. You put your hand over his stroking your thumb across his knuckles.

“Everything is fine. I had some cramping and Jay took me in to be on the safe side. It was just Braxton Hicks.” Some of the tension left Will but you can tell he is still on alert. “My blood pressure is a little high. But don’t worry, the doc thinks it is just from stress. She told me I should take it easy for a few days and gave me a few...natural ways to bring it down.” Will furrowed his brow trying to think of what you could be referring to. Then he turned when he heard Jay cough and mutter something under his breath. Will looked between the two of you knowing he had missed something.

You give him a soft smile, “I’ll explain later. But really, don't worry, okay. I’m just going to spend the day on the couch watching Love is Blind. Taking it easy and relaxing, just like she said.” You push up on your toes and oblige you by leaning down for a kiss. “Now, I really have to go to the bathroom.” You say as you make a beeline for the public bathroom down the hall.

“Is she really, okay? It must have been pretty bad for her to feel like she needed to call you.” Will looked even more worried after you left the room. Jay rested his hand on his shoulder to comfort his older brother. He knew that Will had been trying his hardest to keep all of his own worry as a doctor from bleeding into you. He had been trying hard to do everything at your pace and not overstep the line of future dad to doctor. It hadn’t always been a struggle he won. It didn’t help that you hated hospitals and felt like less was more when it came to OB appointments. You had a tendency to cancel and never reschedule them much to his frustration.

“She’s okay. I was actually already over there. She started getting some cramping and I kind of forced her to come here to get checked out.” A guilty look crossed Jay's face.

“Forced her?” Will found that hard to believe. It was like pulling teeth to force you into doing anything. You had a stubborn streak to match the Halstead clan.

“Well, more of an ultimatum really. I told her she could either agree to come in or I'd call you.”

Will hummed in understanding, that sounded way more plausible. “You were already over there? I thought I told you I was working a double.”

“You did.” Jay agreed, “You also told me she had been feeling well.”

The gratitude that Will felt for his brother at that moment was overwhelming. “Thanks, man. I’m glad you were there. It means a lot.”

“You would have done the same for me,” Jay stated simply, “Besides that what you do for family.” He sighed heavily, “That’s why after I buy her the pizza she has been talking about for the last hour, I’m going to sit down on the couch with her and watch that trash she calls TV. I’ll make sure she is all good until you get home.”

#chicago med #chicago pd #will halstead #will halstead x you #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #jay halstead #platonic jay halstead

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darkmatilda · 14 days ago

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╰┈➤ HALLOWEEN TRADITION

in which one you and reid match your outfits every year for halloween

tw: mention of shoo!ing, dea!h of an animal

contents: spencer reid x fem!reader, they're both obviously in love with each other, time skips

words: 7.5k

disclaimer: it's my first fanfiction written in english.

a year ago

“Oh, I already ordered. Caramel cappuccino, almond milk, double amount of vanilla syrup and cinnamon sprinkled on top, am I right?

“Your photographic memory is sometimes just terrifying”

“Thank you. By the way, are you still afraid to order this coffee in front of Rossi?”

“Yep. I always take regular macchiato. The last thing I need in work is his judgemental, Italian look…”

Meanwhile, as Reid let out a short laugh, you quickly took in your surroundings: the brick walls and oak tables, the decorative pumpkins by the entrance, and the menu hanging above the barista’s counter, adorned with (artificial) leaves. Just like every corner of this trashy coffee shop was trying to remind you about autumn.

One thing about you — you were an extreme autumn lover, who unfortunately was allergic to pumpkins, so you couldn’t fit the autumn white girl stereotype completely, by ordering a pumpkin spice latte. And you would rather die than wear a sweater. All of them were scratchy.

“So” started Reid, hitting a notebook cover with a pen. "I spent all of last evening and more than half of this morning writing down ideas for our Halloween costume this year. I made sure none of them were too similar to our last year's outfits or anything our friends have ever worn to make sure we’ll be the best-dressed people at the party”

“God, Reid, you really took it seriously this year” you raised your eyebrows, shocked and full of admiration at the same time. “And how many ideas did you find?”

“143”

“143?!” you repeated, assuming that he was just joking. Spencer was looking at you with a deadly serious face. “Are fucking crazy? How are we going to choose between 143 ideas? I can’t even choose what socks to wear in the morning…”

“144” he corrected. “When you were saying that I came with another one, Tyler and Marla from Fight Club…”

You had this tendency to forget the names of fictional characters (though, somehow, you could name every American serial killer who ever existed and everyone from your high school class. It was both funny and slightly terrifying that, in two cases, those names overlapped) so it took you a moment to realize who Reid was talking about.

“A guy with a red leather jacket? And this woman who was always smoking?”

“Their names are Tyler Durden and Marla Singer. I don't mean to sound rude, but you made me watch this movie and claimed it was one of your favorites, yet you don’t even remember the main characters' names?"

You shrugged your shoulders. You could say nothing in your defense, that was just the way you were. A subtle smile danced on your lips.

“When I started working with you” you meant the whole BAU “I couldn’t remember all of your names. About two months later I slowly started to recognize them because of how you were addressing each other but because everyone was calling Hotch by his surname I didn’t know his actual name for, like, years…”

Disbelief showed on Spencer’s face but then got replaced with amusement.

“Years?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me because of my memory problem, mrs. I know the moon signs of everyone around me…”

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

“How could I dare, ms. I don’t remember my boss's name even though we’ve been working together for five years…”

“I couldn’t remember it back then! Shame on you, Reid. I shared my secret with you and you immediately started laughing…”

“And what did you want me to do? Make you an appointment with a neurologist?”

That's what our usual conversation looked like. Like a professional ping pong game. Year after a year, month after a month, day after a day you were just becoming better and better players.

Waitress came along your table, setting your orders on the table. You always had to smell your coffee first, cinnamon aroma ticked your nose.

“"Not that it means anything, but my memory problems have worsened since I met you." you said, taking the first sip of a coffee.

“What do you mean by that?“

“Well, I don’t have the need to remember anything when you remember literally everything that comes your way. You've spoiled me a bit in this regard."

Spencer smiled softly, with a little bit of pride, caused by your words.

“ Always at your service” he declared. Suddenly his back went straight, as he probably reminded himself about something. ”Did you call your brother today? It’s his birthday…

“ No way” you jumped on your seat and immediately started looking for your phone to check what day it was. 14 October. “God, Reid you’re right. I completely forgot…Have I already told you how much I love you?

You standed up, ready to leave the coffee, declaring that you’ll be back in a moment. People around were having their lunch. The whole place became too noisy for a birthday phone call with your older brother, who lived in a different state.

“Not today” He replied shortly.

“So, I’m telling you now, Spence. You’re the best friend I could ever imagine…”

As you were busy with dialing the right phone number and trying to wear your coat at the same time, you couldn’t see how his smile faded after the last sentence.

a week later

“It cost me like half of my salary” You said, tossing your dark hair back so it wouldn't accidentally catch fire while lighting the candle. A damn expensive candle, as you mentioned. “Another half goes for that little shit”

With a nod, you indicated the ginger cat that had already settled comfortably next to Spencer. He didn’t take his eyes off the laptop screen, checking something with a furrowed brow. With one hand, almost automatically, he gently scratched Mr. Cinnamon Roll behind the ear.

“It’s made only with fully natural ingredients. Vegan friendly. People with migraines friendly. Almost everyone friendly, except of your wallet” You continued your speech, agitated, recalling the guy in the store who refused to sell you a simple, cheap autumn candle, explaining its poor quality, and convinced you to buy the most expensive one he had.

Finally, the wick caught fire.

“So, you’ve got something?“

It was a late evening after work when you both felt exhausted, yet you decided to meet at your apartment to search online for essentials for your Halloween costumes. The idea of going as a couple from Fight Club had won.

You were supposed to be Marla, and he was to be Tyler. You weren’t a couple or anything like that, but for the past five years, it had been your tradition to wear matching outfits for the halloween party organized by your team. Usually, various other friends would join, and having more people allowed for a best costume contest, which you nearly won every year.

“Yeah, but you probably won't like that, considering that you’ve just confessed to spending your entire paycheck”

You set the candle down on the small coffee table in your living room and joined him on the couch, almost crushing Mr. Cinnamon Ball. He didn’t look offended by that — this cat would rather be crushed than leave Spencer’s side. Somehow, he loved him more than the hand that fed him.

Sitting so close to your friend, your head nearly touched his shoulder, but neither of you minded.You had known each other for four years. You met regularly to watch movies or just to chat, and more than once, you had fallen asleep with your head resting on his arm, that was way more comfortable than any pillow. The rest of your team sometimes joked about your close relationship, but in your opinion, it was only because you were almost the same age! And maybe a bit because you felt the most comfortable in his presence, you understood each other the best, and he made you laugh the most…

For God's sake, why did you start thinking about that at that moment? When you were so close to each other and his gentle scent was slowly enveloping you...

Okay, you’ve thought of him as more than just a friend once or twice. Like that time he stayed over at your place, and you didn’t want him to sleep on the uncomfortable couch, so you shared your bed. You felt so good waking up next to him and regretted that it was just a one-time experience…

You realized he must have said something to you, but you were too lost in thought to hear it.

Instead of repeating himself, Reid pushed the laptop closer to you. On the screen was a website featuring an auction for….the original red leather jacket from Fight Club! You almost screamed. If you had won her over, the victory would have to be yours...

Your enthusiasm faded like a blown-out candle when you saw the final bid amount.

“What the fuck? That's more than the total of our annual salaries…”

"Actually, it’s twenty thousand less than..."

You both fell silent in disappointment. Then, a very silly idea came to your mind.

“Reid” you started slowly.

“"Oh no, I know this tone. You're either about to say something extremely absurd or something inappropriate, and I don’t know which one scares me more."

"But listen. We'll wait for the auction to end and for someone to buy that jacket. Then we’ll talk to Garcia and convince her to track down the buyer. We'll go, knock on the door, and when they open it..."

"We’ll politely ask to borrow it?"

"No, sweet boy, we’ll show our badges and say the auction was illegal, and we need to confiscate the jacket."

Spencer burst out laughing.

"Your ideas are brilliant. But how are you going to explain this to Hotch afterward?"

“He won’t find out”

“He find out”

“Okay, you’re right. He’ll probably find out”

A silence full of smiles fell between you.

Spencer closed the auction page and started browsing something else when you let out a laugh at your own thoughts.

“Okay, I have another idea that won’t cost either of us our jobs,” you said, capturing his attention. He tore his gaze away from the laptop and focused completely on you and your trembling lips, which hinted that you weren’t going to say anything serious “The beginning of the plan sounds the same but instead of showing our badges, you’ll give him a blowjob… “

“Fuck you!” he shouted, unable to stop himself from laughing. At the sight of his expression, a wave of laughter hit you so hard that Mr. Cinnamon Roll jumped off the couch and ran away from his sick owner. “I’m not giving any random guy a blowjob in exchange for a jacket. In exchange for the original diaries of Einstein, well, I wouldn’t say no; I would think about it, but not for a jacket!”

“But it’s the jacket from Fight Club, Spence. Brad Pitt was wearing it” you encouraged him, amused. "Besides, how do you know some guy will buy it? It could be a woman.”

Spencer rolled his eyes and was ready to continue arguing on the topic, but suddenly it seemed as if he changed his mind. His expression grew more serious.

"Actually, it doesn't change much, but that's not the point. What worries me more is that I've lost my touch. Maybe you'd want to replace me in this? The buyer might not be satisfied."

He said it in a tone as if he were talking about a truly serious, real transaction, which only amused you even more. Also pretending to be serious, you patted him on the shoulder.

“Don't worry, Spence. I'm sure you'll manage just fine.'"

"Really? What makes you think that?"

You considered making a joke, but then you realized what you were talking about while studying him. After a whole day at work, he looked... surprisingly... attractive? With slightly tousled hair and two buttons of his shirt undone…

"‘Nothing,” you replied. For the first time in his presence, you felt slightly embarrassed to continue the topic. Your closeness on the couch didn’t help at all, and you regretted scaring off Mr. Cinnamon.

“No, something makes you think that”

The tension between you escalated to the point where you weren't sure if he was still joking. You realized that in this silence, every change in your breathing would be audible, so you tried to control it.

What makes you think that? Spencer just seemed that way. I mean, you often talked about your relationships, and you assumed that his potential partner would lack nothing.

Embarrassed, you wanted to say something when he suddenly burst out laughing.

"Jesus, we were talking about blowing somebody for a jacket. Why did you get so scared?

You hit him on the arm so hard that he let out a groan.

"I didn't get scared! You just suddenly became so weird that I didn't know if you were joking or what”

"‘Of course I was joking. Why would I ask you that seriously?” he asked, and you noticed that he also carried a hint of embarrassment.

"I have no idea. Maybe you wanted to know my opinion or something” You desperately tried to return to the atmosphere that had existed between you just a moment ago, one that felt more friendly.

Spencer swallowed hard. It was clear he also preferred to drop the topic.

“I don’t know why you would have any opinion on that, but let’s get back to what we were talking about before you switched into perverted weirdo mode...’"

After his words, you had to hide your face in the sleeve of his shirt, unable to contain your laughter. He seemed surprised by your reaction.

“ What? What did I say this time?”

“Perverted weirdo” you blurted it out, almost choking on your words.” You called me a perverted weirdo…”

“Well, considering your recent ambiguous comments…”

“I'm going to tell Emily about this. Hey girl, you know how Spencer called me last time? A perverted weirdo…Oh no, I got your shirt dirty with my makeup… “

Spencer looked at the sleeve of his shirt and shrugged, saying, "It's nothing."

"No," you shook your head, trying to rub the stain off his shirt with your fingers, but of course it didn’t work. "I spilled coffee on your pants last time. Take it off; I'll wash it today."

"It's late; you’re not going to deal with washing my shirt right now. Let's get back to looking for our costumes."

You agreed and once again found comfort leaning on his shoulder. He still held the laptop on his lap, and whenever you wanted to type on the keyboard, you had to rest your elbows on his body, on the lower part of his stomach. Why were you even paying attention to that? You shaked your head and leaned over the laptop when you found the perfect shoes for Marla's costume.

In that position, you couldn't see Spencer, but you felt he was almost completely still. After a moment, however, he slowly reached for your hair, gently brushing it with his fingers as if checking its texture.

"We don't need to buy you a wig, right? Your hair will do just fine."

You murmured in agreement as he continued to play with your hair, probably unaware of how much he was distracting you. You had been staring at the picture of the shoes for five minutes and couldn’t remember what you wanted to check. Ah, the size!

"Reid, we have a problem," you said. "They don't have my size. I checked to see if a larger size would be available, since I could stuff them somehow, but the smallest is a 10!"

"Your shoe size is 7; in such large ones, you'll either look ridiculous or kill yourself before even arriving to the party…Do they have to be those specific ones? Maybe you can find some others..."

"They have to be those! They're identical to the ones Helena Bonham Carter wore."

Spencer sighed thoughtfully. His breath tickled the back of your head, which distracted you slightly once again. Anyway, this one time, you came up with a solution faster than his brilliant mind…

You turned your head toward him — after he stroked your hair you were very, very close to each other. The flame from the candle on the table reflected in his eyes, filling the area with the scent of cinnamon that had lingered for a while. When your face unexpectedly came just in front of him, he looked at you with a surprise and a gaze that he had never given you before. It was as if he were trying to stop himself from doing something, while at the same time, a voice in his ear incessantly urged him to go ahead.

You looked away to avoid doing something foolish. You could feel warmth on your neck and cheeks. Finally, you remembered what you wanted to ask.

"Spence, what’s your shoe size?"

5 years ago

It all started when the rest of your team found out about Penelope and Morgan's Halloween tradition. Every year, the two of them held a movie marathon of the scariest films they could find, watching them until sunrise.

"Why didn’t you invite any of us? I love watching horror movies with friends!" Prentiss exclaimed indignantly.

You were on board a private jet. You had been working with this team for only a few days — in fact, this was your first trip with them to work in the field.

The prospect of solving the case had you feeling stressed, and you were also wondering if you would find common ground with your team. You lagged slightly behind, pretending to read a book while actually listening to all the conversations around you. You wanted to get to know everyone better. Someone sat down beside you, leaning in to read the title of your book.

"Rebecca. Have you gotten to the part where it turns out Maxim killed his wife?"

You looked shocked at the second youngest member of the team. You had a serious problem with remembering names, so you only knew his last name. Reid was a tall man with longer hair, dressed in a vest with a shirt peeking out from underneath. Until now, you hadn't formed much of an opinion about him, but that was about to change — he had just spoiled the ending of the book for you.

“No, I haven’t gotten to this part! “

An older man in a black suit chuckled quietly to himself.

"Guys, listen up," said the brunette with bangs, wearing a tight red shirt. "It just came out that Morgan and Penelope have their own secret Halloween tradition."

The woman mentioned was present only on the laptop screen. She was working with you remotely and seemed really nice to you.

"Sweetheart, we weren't trying to hide anything from you; it just happened that we didn’t mention it..."

"That’s exactly what hiding is," Reid added, giving you an apologetic look for spoiling the book.

"What do you say to all of us getting together this Halloween? The whole team?" asked a muscular man dressed in gray, sitting across from Prentiss with his elbow casually resting on the table. "With a special invitation for you, newbie."

Saying this, he winked at you. You were surprised, but still smiled. Are there better circumstances for getting to know your team than a party? Everyone around you approached this idea.

a week later

You stared at your phone in fear after just ending the call. JJ said something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make it to the party. You knew her best out of the whole team and had hoped that with her there, you would feel more at ease. Most importantly, you were supposed to wear matching outfits. You realized your breath had quickened slightly. You weren't sure if anyone else besides you planned to dress up. After all, they were mostly older than you — maybe they weren't into that anymore?

Back in high school, you were the only one who showed up in costume, and you felt embarrassed the whole evening walking around in a zombie farmer outfit while all the other girls wore mini skirts and beautiful, subtle makeup. You didn’t want to go through that again, but making this costume had taken you a lot of time. Recently, you and JJ had been enchanted by the animated movie Corpse Bride, and you planned to dress up as the title character and her rival, Victoria. Since you loved dressing up for Halloween, you chose the more challenging costume. You bought a cheap white dress that you styled to look more tattered. You applied pale blue makeup and heavily contoured your cheekbones. You even managed to get a veil.

In fifteen minutes, you were supposed to be at Morgan's house. If you removed the makeup, you wouldn’t have time to do anything else. You contemplated what to do. Ultimately, you decided it would be a shame to waste your hard work, and soon you found yourself in the car, heading to the address you were given. As you parked, you felt stress start to take control of you.

You needed to sit in silence for a moment, so you turned off the engine and stared at the empty sidewalk in front of you. Morgan lived in a large house in a quiet neighborhood, where all the homes were spaced far enough apart to host small gatherings without bothering anyone.

Suddenly, someone appeared by the driver's window. You screamed in surprise, your thoughts racing back to all the cases when women were killed in their own cars.

You quickly realized that it wasn't another UNSUB. That one wouldn’t have screamed alongside you.

“Damn it, Reid, you scared me!”

“You scared me too” he managed to say, placing a hand on his chest. He glanced toward the house. "Weird that Morgan hasn't come out to help yet."

“Maybe the music is too loud and he didn’t hear. There are quite a few cars. Did they invite that many people?” you wondered as you got out of the car.

Reid glanced at your costume. He wasn’t dressed up at all, just wearing a plain dark gray blazer and a shirt.

"Is that some fashion trend, or are you dressed as a zombie bride?"

“Neither, actually,” you replied, feeling stressed about being the only one in costume. “It’s from the cartoon Corpse Bride.”

“I haven’t seen it,” he admitted as you both headed toward the entrance of the house.

“It’s a great animation,” you recommended. “You should check it out. Although, from what I’ve noticed, you prefer reading more.”

“Not entirely. I like movies too, but I rarely choose cartoons,” he said, ringing the doorbell.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” you replied.

A very short girl you'd never seen before opened the door. She seemed slightly tipsy, confirming your suspicions that people from outside the team had also been invited.

"Oh, you dressed up! How cute!" she said, delighted to see you both, even though she didn’t know you. "Wait, I think I even know who you are. Emily and Victor from Corpse Bride?"

She pointed at the two of you, at your dress and his gray blazer. You exchanged glances, realizing she must have mistaken his usual clothes for a costume.

"No, we’re not…" Reid began to explain.

"Actually, I was supposed to match costumes with JJ…"

But she wasn’t listening. She let you in and shouted through the whole house,

"Look at their matching outfits!"

Everyone gathered around to see you, and you endured the whistles and applause with growing embarrassment.

Penelope appeared right beside you, placing her hands on your shoulders and inspecting your makeup closely. "Oh, sweetheart, you really went all out. This must have taken you ages."

"Which is more than I can say for you," joked Prentiss, holding a beer bottle and pointing it at Reid. "You decided to keep it a secret for a better effect, I assume?"

Reid tried once more to explain that it wasn’t intentional, but you stopped him with a nudge. He looked at you, puzzled.

"Let’s go get a drink," you suggested.

Not waiting for a response, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him along.

"I’m not going to be the only one in costume, so you’re going to stick with me and pretend we planned this all along."

He let out a surprised laugh, thinking you were joking at first.

"Wait, seriously? So… I’m Victor now?"

"Yes, you’re Victor, and you accidentally proposed to me. By the way, I’m dead."

"Okay," he blinked, processing the information. "I definitely need to watch that movie."

You spent almost the entire evening sticking close to each other. Without you by his side, Spencer looked like he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. And without Spencer next to you, you felt a bit awkward.

A few hours later, the two of you were sitting alone in the kitchen, drinking non-alcoholic cocktails and talking about… psychology. Not exactly a party topic, but somehow that’s where your conversation about favorite sodas had ended up.

“Next year, we have to do this again. I mean, plan a costume together. On purpose this time."

Spencer nodded.

"I think I even have an idea."

And that was how your tradition began.

now

He said Halloween is for kids.

Starting from the beginning, everyone always asks how you met Travis. Well, your story has some potential for a romantic comedy — if only you were a bit more attractive and funnier to make it more watchable on screen. And maybe if there were some breathtaking plot twist. But real life has little in common with a romantic comedy, and you didn’t meet under any crazy circumstances. You only had potential. It happened during your rehabilitation.

Perhaps we need to go back a bit further. Six months ago, Emily passed away, and you weren’t even there for the funeral because, in the rescue attempt to free her from Doyle’s hands, you were shot. Seriously wounded. You spent two weeks in a coma. That might not seem like a long time, but when you woke up, it felt like years had passed. Everyone around you seemed so distant, changed, almost as if you’d suddenly appeared in an entirely different reality.

The following weeks were even more blurred, like rain hitting fiercely against the window with such frequency that the droplets slowly merged into a single cohesive stream. You weren't accepting visitors while in the hospital; something was wrong with you. Perhaps it was due to the grief and shock from Emily's passing, along with the trauma. You didn't want to return to that job; you were too afraid of the risks. Of dying yourself or losing someone from your team and having to relive it all over again. Fortunately, you quickly received an offer for a transfer. An office job, terribly boring, but there was something in that monotony that filled you with a sense of safety. You hated it, but you were afraid to engage in anything else.

Before you took the job, you had to go through rehabilitation. It was led by Travis, eleven years older than you, which stunned your older brother when you introduced them. “You’re dating a guy older than me?” he asked, shocked. They didn’t hit it off, but you didn’t worry too much about that. Everything in your life had changed, and being in a relationship with an older, more mature guy made you feel more stable. And since so many things had changed, why not go all in? You moved in with him. Just as you were starting to climb out of the pit, another tragedy struck. Mr. Cinnamon Roll was diagnosed with stomach cancer and passed away despite treatment.

Since that moment, you almost stopped talking to your old team. You still loved them — they were like family to you, but whenever faced with life's struggles, you felt that burning need for isolation. On the day Mr. Cinnamon Roll died, you received a message from Spencer, asking how you were doing and suggesting a meeting. You stared at your phone for hours, and ultimately replied to him only the next morning with a brief, "Sorry, I didn't notice you wrote." He responded just as briefly. He was also suffering due to the circumstances and probably didn't have the energy to chase after his friend who openly refused to give him any attention.

You pushed him away because you weren’t ready to confront what you were feeling. Something had happened between you during that Halloween party, shortly before Emily's death. After that, you acted as if nothing had occurred, but both of you knew that you needed to talk about what to do with your relationship. But before you had the chance, there was Doyle, your accident, then Travis, and it seemed that everything that had ever been between you was lost. A new agent, Ashley, joined the BAU. You knew her — you were around the same age, and sometimes you caught yourself wondering if something might blossom between her and Reid.

You thought that if you accepted the loss of your previous life, it would be easier to move on. It was the opposite. Day by day, you felt more and more depressed, empty inside. This morning, you went into a café to buy coffee. While waiting for your order, you looked at the tiny pumpkins on the counter and realized it was Halloween—the holiday you used to love so much. This moved you, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a spark of life within you. You felt like you wanted to do something. Dress up as a character from a cheap horror movie, have a few drinks. Maybe even go trick-or-treating, hiding behind a mask like kids do. You did that with Spencer two years ago, but no one wanted to give that tall guy any candy.

You shared this idea with Travis.

And he said that Halloween is for kids.

a year ago

“How the fuck I’m suppose to walk in these….”

As soon as you saw him in a black dress that reached mid-thigh (it should have been longer, but you bought it when you still assumed you would be the one wearing it), a short fur coat of the same color, and sunglasses, you nearly choked on your laughter. And when he added black heeled ankle boots and started cursing their practicality, you fell onto the couch, unable to stand on your legs any longer.

Mr. Cinnamon Roll watched his antics with curiosity.

“Run away, little one,” Spencer advised him. “Those heels are so sharp I might accidentally kill you.”

“Don’t exaggerate. I wear shoes with higher heels every day.”

“Your spine will thank you for it in ten years.”

“Alright, mom.”

The deadly shoes landed on the floor. You were planning to leave in an hour and a half, once you finished perfecting your costumes. Until then, Spencer had no intention of risking his life by parading around in them. He lay down on the couch next to you, the dress ungracefully riding up.

“Now it’s your turn to change,” he said, pointing to the Tyler Durden costume lying on the table. “And mine to laugh.”

“First, I wanted to do makeup.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Are you kidding? What kind of Marla Singer would it be without a bold smokey eye?”

“Fine by you,” he muttered, looking at the watch on his wrist. “One hour and thirty-three minutes. Will we make it?”

“Relax. Remember, for a better impression, we need to be a little late.”

You disappeared for a moment into your bathroom, only to return with a makeup bag in hand. You had bought a new eyeshadow palette specifically for this occasion. Tilting your head to the side, you looked at your friend, wondering in which position you would be most comfortable working on him.

“Okay, lean against the couch,” you instructed, feeling like a professional makeup artist. “And don’t look at me like I’m a mad scientist trying to perform some dangerous operation on you.”

“From my perspective, that’s exactly what it looks like. A mad scientist and a dangerous operation. Just don’t accidentally poke me in the eye.”

“God, Reid, I’m not going to do this with a knife…”

You stood in front of the couch, facing him. Following your instruction, he rested his head, but as soon as you tried to apply the first product on his eyelid, you felt that you weren’t doing it precisely. You sighed.

“It’s uncomfortable for me to work this way. I have a better idea. Lie down.”

Reid looked at you with raised eyebrows but obediently lay down on the couch. You sat on a free spot next to him, leaning over his face. You were glad he closed his eyes. It would be awkward to be this close and still have to endure his sharp gaze. Your hair brushed against his neck. A gentle smile appeared on his face as soon as the brush touched his skin.

“This is quite nice,” he said.

You didn’t respond, focused on turning him into a doppelgänger for Marla Singer. You would sooner die of embarrassment than admit it out loud, but you deliberately prolonged the entire process. You felt as if you were working on a painting. Additionally, you enjoyed the awareness of having him beneath you, so defenseless and completely unaware, that you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

You would simply press your lips together to see what would happen. There was a possibility he would push you away, but even considering that, you were ready to do it. You didn’t even try to push those thoughts away. They had completely dominated your mind, and you were just observing them from the sidelines, wondering where they came from. Throughout your years of friendship, you had never experienced them. Or rather, you had experienced them so rarely that you didn’t consider them significant. After all, everyone sometimes feels like kissing their friend. The problem was that for quite some time, the only thing you had been thinking about was his lips on yours.

Spencer opened one eye. You felt as if he had caught you doing something wrong.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice slightly husky.

You brushed aside the one strand of his hair that had strayed onto his forehead.

“About one of my friends.”

“You look worried. Can I ask why thinking about this person makes you feel that way?”

You let out a quiet laugh. You wondered if he knew you were talking about him. He should have.

“I doubt you want to hear about it,” you replied evasively. However, after a moment, you broke down and added something more. “Do you ever feel like you want to do something stupid so badly that you feel like you're physically shaking, even though you know it’s wrong?”

He frowned slightly. You accidentally applied too much eyeshadow, licking the tip of your finger to wipe away the excess product from his skin.

“Can you give a specific example of such behavior?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Kissing a friend, for example.”

He smiled gently.

“Well, in that case, yes. All the time.”

You exhaled through your nose, feeling a painful tightness in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening to you.

“Done,” you said, abruptly rising from the couch. “I need to change. We don’t have much time.”

“There’s still an hour and eighteen…”

You grabbed your costume from the table and hid in the bathroom, not hearing the end of his sentence.

one hour and eighteen minutes later

Usually, nighttime drives had a calming effect on you, but this time it was completely the opposite. You were in a small space with Spencer, with whom you had just had… let’s call it a complicated conversation. You felt every part of your body tense.

You hated yourself. You hated that you didn’t understand what you were feeling. You hated that you didn’t know what you wanted. You felt like banging your head against the steering wheel. Maybe the sound of the horn would bring you back to your senses.

Reid just stayed silent, inscrutable.

“I’m afraid we’ll be right on time,” he said after clearing his throat. “And you wanted to be a little late.”

“So what should I do now, drive around the city for the next ten minutes?” you asked, slightly irritably.

He shrugged stiffly.

“Or stop and wait. It’s a much more environmentally friendly option.”

In the end, you pulled up outside Morgan’s house, where the annual Halloween party was set to take place for the fifth year in a row. You sighed with nostalgia and turned off the engine. You might have been in the middle of an emotional crisis, but you still intended to win that contest. And that meant waiting out those ten minutes.

You adjusted the sleeves of your red leather jacket.

“Remember when we dressed up as Harry and Voldemort?” you asked suddenly. That had been your first intentional costume pairing.

Spencer let out a short laugh.

“For the next two days, I couldn’t wash off all that white paint,” he muttered, reaching into the black purse you had lent him. Spencer had been outraged that mini dresses had no pockets, leaving him with nowhere to keep his things. You frowned when you noticed he had taken out his wallet. From it, he pulled out a photo taken on that memorable day, showing the two of you standing in front of the fireplace at Morgan’s cabin. You had your arms around each other, Voldemort and Harry Potter.

“You carry our photo in your wallet?” you asked, touched, admiring the picture with delight.

Slightly embarrassed, he nodded.

“And not just ours,” he reached into his wallet again, this time pulling out a photo of Mr. Cinnamon Roll curled up on your lap. You leaned closer to Spencer to get a better look, almost forgetting about your earlier conversation.

You extended your hand, but instead of taking the photo, you just grabbed his hand. He squeezed it tightly and briefly kissed the back of it.

“It’s been ten minutes,” he announced, letting go of your hand. “We can go inside now…”

He trailed off as you suddenly grabbed a piece of his fur and pulled him as close as possible. You felt as if someone stronger had taken control of your body and finally did what you had wanted to do for a long time. You were kissing him.

At first, he froze as if spellbound, completely surrendering to the pressure of your lips. You pulled back a little, unsure if you should continue.

“Why did you stop?” he asked softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked it.”

He laughed right into your mouth and resumed the kiss in a hungry way.

“I wanted to do it earlier,” you admitted after a moment. His eyes were shining, and yours probably were too. “When I was putting on your makeup. You had your eyes closed, and it was all I could think about.”

His hand rested on your neck, his thumb gently drawing circles on your sensitive skin. You had your arms around his neck, entwined like strands of hair in a braid.

“Good thing you didn’t,” he said. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “I’d venture to guess we wouldn’t have even made it to this party.”

“Don’t get too bold with your assumptions. I wouldn’t let such good costumes go to waste…”

He kissed you one more time, pulling you close by the chin. Okay, he was right. If you’d done this earlier, you’d probably still be at your apartment, entirely wrapped up in each other. In fact, you’d lost all interest in going to that part

You spent a good few minutes smiling at each other, foreheads touching. You felt the need to talk to him — to make sure this wasn’t just a release of the tension that had been building between you recently, but something more. Before you knew it, though, you were walking arm-in-arm toward Morgan’s house.

“This year, you’ve outdone yourselves,” he commented as he finally came out of his shock at seeing Spencer in heels. He, too, was in costume. For the past four years, it was almost impossible to find anyone there without one. You could say you were the ones who started the trend.

Without letting go of his hand, you encouraged him to spin around in a circle. All evening, you wondered if people noticed that something had changed between you or if they just assumed it was all part of the act. His hand almost never leaving your waist, your conversations with faces close together, the prolonged disappearance in the bathroom under the pretense of fixing his makeup.

“Have you thought about what we’ll dress up as next year?” he asked, pinning you against the upstairs wall, his hand slipped under the fabric of your loose shirt.

You looked into his eyes thoughtfully.

“I liked the idea of Mia and Vincent from Pulp Fiction.”

“Mia and Vincent. White shirts and fake blood. Don’t you think it’s a bit too simple? We should raise the bar each year.”

You rolled your eyes.

“So, what is your suggestion?”

now

You lay in bed next to the sleeping Travis, staring at his bare back.

Every day, he started with a run around six in the morning, so he didn’t let you drag him anywhere in the evening, despite it being Friday. You tried to fall asleep, but you knew it was useless. You’d always been a night owl. Besides, it was Halloween—your favorite holiday, and for the first time in years, you were spending it with your head on the pillow at 10 p.m.

You sighed and quietly, so as not to wake him, went to the living room to watch some show on TV and maybe have some ice cream. Sitting on the couch, you constantly felt the urge to reach out and pet Mr. Cinnamon Roll, who used to keep watch by your side. Each time, it ended with you touching the cold leather of the couch instead. You buried your face in your hands, stretching the skin on your cheeks.

You couldn’t live in this emptiness any longer.

It happened so suddenly. One moment, you were curled up on the couch, and the next, you were slipping back into the bedroom to grab one of Travis’s plain white shirts from the closet. Just regular black jeans. The only thing missing was fake blood, but you decided you’d just be a more polite version of Mia.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest as you drove. Doubts crept in, and the absurdity of your behavior caught up with you. It was highly likely that your previous team had stopped organizing those events due to circumstances. And even if they were still happening, why would you feel invited? You had limited your contact with them, almost cutting it off in recent months.

Your breath was painful as you pressed your hand against your side, where a scar from a gunshot wound marked your skin. The red light of the traffic signal turned into the flashing lights of an ambulance. You were inside, bleeding, the whole world blurring around you.

You tried to calm yourself so as not to accidentally cause an accident. However, that tragic feeling didn’t leave you even when you found yourself there again. For the fifth year in a row, on Halloween night, at Morgan’s doorstep.

Derek opened the door for you, wearing a plain t-shirt. No music was coming from inside, and no cars were gathering around. He blinked in surprise at the sight of you.

You greeted him sadly, ready to throw out some excuse, though none came to mind. You had shown up unannounced, unwelcome, when he was probably spending the evening at home working or resting. A flush of embarrassment covered your cheeks.

Before either of you could say anything more, Penelope appeared behind him. She wore a headband adorned with little pumpkin decorations.

“Morgan, we have a serious problem with picking a movie because Hotch…”

She stopped, stunned by your presence. But a moment later, she shouted your name and swept you into her embrace.

“Oh, why didn’t anyone tell me you were coming!”

Over her shoulder, you could see Derek’s gentle smile.

“We went back to basics, and instead of throwing a party, we’re just watching movies,” he explained, eyeing you closely. “But costumes are always welcome. You’re not even the only one who thought to dress up.”

Both of them pulled you into the living room, where the rest of the team was arguing about which movie to watch. As all eyes turned to you, you felt like someone had forcefully shoved you onto a stage and blinded you with a spotlight aimed directly at you. Lost, you didn’t know what to say.

Then your gaze landed on that one person sitting alone in an armchair. Dressed in an identical white shirt and a black blazer draped over the arm of the chair.

You managed to smile at your Vincent.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds

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angelicsoka · 1 month ago

Text

REAL GENTLEMEN, b. bradshaw

word count | 2.3k

pairings | bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!seresin!reader

summary | in which jake’s sister goes on a bad date, and bradley decides to show her how a real gentleman acts.

warnings | slight angst (not rooster’s doing), icky men just looking for sex. age gap relationship: reader is 21, rooster is 33. reader is in college. use of ‘y/n’. insinuations of smut but no actual smut. not proofread. lowercase intended.

a/n | i got this idea a few days ago and figured this would be perfect for rooster x hangman’s sister!reader, i did get carried away and i had to cut myself off before i wrote a whole ass novel. i would be more than happy to write a part two tho ;))))

it had been a month since you had seen your big brother jake in person, as he had been called back to TOP GUN for some classified mission he couldn’t tell you about, which meant limited phone calls. instead you were left back in lemoore, california in your shared apartment all by yourself. to pass the time when you weren’t in class or working part time as a server, you decided to join an online dating site. at first, it was nothing more than just trying to connect with people in the area since you weren’t from around there, but you had recently swiped right on a good looking guy who had a good sense of humor and a great personality. soon, a date had been set up for later in the week, and you felt genuinely excited.

as you sat in your room, deciding between your favorite dress and a more casual outfit, you heard the front door opening. you weren’t expecting anyone, so you grabbed the baseball that sat near your door, ignoring the uneasy pit in your stomach as you quietly walked towards the living room. you heard loud rustling, raising your bat in defense as you jumped the front door, blindly swinging. “jesus, stop– stop swinging!” you stopped your rapid swinging at the sound of your older brother's voice as he ripped the bat from your hands. “what are you doing? you coulda hurt yourself!”

“jake? shit, i thought you were an intruder or something! you could've told me you were coming back!” as angry as you were at jake for nearly giving you a heart attack, you hugged him tightly, pulling back when you noticed the group of people behind him. “and i see you brought friends.”

“ah, yes. y/n, meet the dagger squad: phoenix, rooster, bob, fanboy, payback, and you know coyote.” you furrowed your eyebrows at all the callsigns, “guys, this is my baby sister, y/n.” you smiled kindly to coyote before awkwardly waving to the rest group, now realizing you looked kind of crazy with your makeup and hair half done, wildly yielding a bat.

“sorry about the whole trying to beat you with a bat thing, jake didn’t tell me he was coming back, let alone bringing friends.” you glared at jake before stepping aside to allow the group to walk further in. “i haven't been able to go to the store this week, but you are welcome to anything in the kitchen.”

“why do you look like that?” jake questioned, you followed behind him as the dagger squad began to get comfortable.

“don’t be a jackass! i’ll have you know, i was in the middle of getting ready for my date tonight when–” you started, only to be rudely interrupted by your dumbass of a brother.

“woah, woah, woah, date? since when did you date?” he snarked to which you rolled your eyes, shoving past him.

“since you left! and now i’m running late because of you and i still haven't picked out my outfit!” you began to panic, realizing your date would be here soon and you still weren’t dressed. “fuck!” you rushed back to your room, still unsure of what to wear. you were beginning to get really frustrated when a knock sounded at your bedroom door. “come in.” the woman from the dagger squad, phoenix, entered with a hesitant smile.

“sorry, if i’m intruding but you seemed stressed the fuck out so i figured i’d try to help you out.” you smiled thankfully, holding up your two outfit options.

“thank you so much! okay, so i’m stuck between these two.” with natasha’s help, as she had properly introduced herself, you were able to get to the door before your brother could, allowing you to leave with your date before jake could interfere. “i’m leaving, bye!” you quickly shut the door, accepting the hand of your date.

the date itself didn't go horrible, at least not until the end. your date, mike, was a gentleman: opening your car door, pulling the chair out for you, the works. but it started to get weird when the server came over, ready to take your order. she looked at you, only to be interrupted by mike who proceeded to order a salad for you, while he got a steak. you didn't say anything, smiling awkwardly to the server who sent you an apologetic look. after dinner, mike led you to his car, opening the door. “so, would you like to go back to my place now, or did you want to stop somewhere before?” he said nonchalantly, leaving you bewildered and offended.

“excuse me?” mike seemed confused by your reaction. “i wasn't planning on going home with you. i thought i made that clear when we first planned the date.”

“are you being serious? i thought you were just playing hard to get.” you huffed out a laugh in disgust, “i was a gentleman, i drove you, i paid for dinner. the least you could do is come home with me.” shocked was an understatement.

“first of all, you paid for dinner, yes, but you didn't even let me order what i wanted! that hardly makes you a gentleman! second of all, expecting sex as a return to paying for dinner is the least gentleman thing i can think of! expecting sex, after someone made it clear they weren’t looking for it, is crazy!” you pushed the car door open, quickly getting out.

“where are you going?” mike called out after you, watching as you pulled out your phone. “i’m your ride!”

“i’d rather walk than be stuck in a car with a piece of shit like you!” you started walking away, the tears that you had been holding back began to cascade down your cheeks. you fumbled with your phone, pulling up jake’s contact. “jake, can you come pick me up?”

“what's wrong? are you okay?” jake’s worried voice must have caused concern amongst his friends, who’s murmurs you could barely pick up.

“the dude was a douche. please, jake.” you pleaded, taking a seat on a bench, ignoring the strange looks from passersby.

“text me your location.” you hung up after thanking jake, quickly texting him your location. you patiently waited for jake to arrive, trying to calm yourself down before jake got there. you watched as a blue bronco pulled up, surprised when jake hopped out, followed by one of his friends, who’s name you couldn’t quite remember. you groaned internally; the last thing you wanted was one of jake’s (hot) friends to see you crying on a bench after a shitty date. “what happened? are you okay? did he hurt you? cause i have no problem committing homicide for you.” that last part made you smile slightly.

“jake, i’m okay. the dude was a douchebag but he didn't hurt me or anything.” you reassured your brother, who seemed relieved. the guy behind him, goose was it?, seemed surprised at your brother’s kindness. “did you really have to bring one of your friends though?” you asked in a whisper, smiling softly to the guy, who smiled back slightly.

“sorry, my truck wouldn’t start and rooster offered to drive.” you nodded, looking to rooster who stood there awkwardly. “let's get you home.” jake and rooster led you to the bronco, jake taking the passenger seat as you climbed into the backseat. the ride was silent and awkward, as you watched out the window, listening to the quiet country music that played.

as soon as rooster’s bronco rolled to a stop, you pushed the door open, walking hurriedly to your apartment. you pushed the door open, not bothering to close it since jake was not far behind you. you rushed past the group who were watching a movie, slamming your bedroom door shut. you finally broke down, feeling disgusted and hurt by the night's events. you changed into sweats and one of jake’s old shirts you had stolen years ago, crawling into your bed. you curled into yourself under your blankets, ignoring jake as he knocked on your door.

“y/n? can we talk?” jake called through the door, his own worried expression causing concern amongst his friends. they had never seen jake like this.

“i’m fine, jake. just leave me alone, please.” you begged your brother, who seemed to accept you weren’t ready to talk. he left you alone to wallow in your pity, for god knows how long.

when you finally got up, it was dark in the apartment and the dagger squad was asleep in the living room. you tried to stay quiet, walking toward the kitchen, flipping on a small light that hopefully wouldn’t wake the sleeping aviators in the other room. you jumped when you noticed a figure sitting at the island, who seemed surprised to see you.

“shit! you scared me!” you whisper-shouted at rooster who was happily enjoying a bowl of ice cream. “what are you doing in here?” rooster looked at you and then to the bowl in front of him, and then back to you.

“i could ask you the same question. it’s past your bedtime, isn’t it?” you rolled your eyes, grabbing a bowl and spoon before joining rooster at the island.

“well, this is my apartment, and that is my ice cream.” you began to scoop ice cream into your bowl, smirking slightly at rooster. “and i don’t have a bedtime!” rooster laughed at your exasperation. “what are you doing up, rooster? i thought an old man like you would be snoring loudly like your pals out there.”

“first of all, you can call me bradley, if you’d like,” you nodded; the name fit him well. “second of all, i am not an old man!” you laughed a little too loudly, your eyes widening when you heard someone stir. you and bradley stilled for a moment, but nothing happened. “i just… couldn’t sleep, i guess.” bradley shrugged, pushing his ice cream around with his spoon.

“yeah, same.” you quieted for a moment before an idea popped in your head. “y’know, when i can’t sleep i usually go for a drive. i know this place where you can see the stars clearly, i can show you, if you’d like.” bradley seemed to hesitate for just a moment before agreeing. you both quietly put on some shoes, bradley grabbing his keys as you both tiptoed out of the apartment. you followed bradley to his bronco, smiling as he opened the door for you, allowing you to climb into the passenger’s seat. “i’ll direct you there.”

bradley put on a random radio station, singing along as you directed him to your favorite place. it took about thirty minutes before bradley was pulling over on a dirt road near an open grassy area. you climbed out the bronco, bradley meeting you on the other side. you took his hand into yours, ignoring the heat that began to spread on your face, as you led him over to the area. “look.” you pointed to the sky which held millions of stars, which never failed to amaze you. “there’s the little dipper, it's a part of the ursa minor constellation.” you explained, pointing out the constellation to bradley, who followed your finger. “isn’t it beautiful?” bradley looked at you, taking in the beauty that is you.

“yeah.” his voice came out barely above a whisper, his eyes still trained on you. he was pulled back to reality as you pointed out more of the stars. bradley watched as your face lit up while talking about all things astrology related, he couldn’t understand how someone could hurt someone as sweet as you. he may not have known you very long, but bradley could tell you were special.

“y’know, you can’t let a dick like mike ruin your night.” bradley spoke, breaking the silence that had blanketed the two of you. he had driven the bronco to the grassy area, helping you into the bed of his truck so you can look at the stars more comfortably.

you looked at bradley before looking back at the sky. “it’s not just him, most guys are like that nowadays.” you shrugged, hugging your knees to your chest.

“most, but not all.” you turned to bradley who was facing you. “you didn’t deserve that, y/n.”

“do you have a girlfriend, bradley? a wife?” bradley paused for a moment, which gave you your answer. “why not?”

“haven’t found the right girl to tame me, i suppose.” bradley shrugged, watching as you giggled slightly at his response. “why do you ask?”

“just figured a guy like you would’ve been taken already. you’re a real gentleman, bradley, y’know that?” you moved onto your knees and closer to bradley. you thought he would move away, but he stayed in his spot, watching with uncertainty. “i’m sure there many ladies who would like to tame you, bradley.” you inched closer, now between bradley’s legs as he watched you closely.

“like who? you?” bradley watched you come even closer, impossibly closer.

“maybe…” bradley knew it was wrong, that he shouldn’t want his friend’s little sister like this.

“jake’ll be pissed.” bradley watched you roll your pretty little eyes. “fuck it, can i kiss you?” you nodded, bradley pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. even in a moment of passion, bradley was still a gentleman. he pulled you on to his lap, kissing you as if he never would again, which was probably true if jake were to ever find out. but that didn’t matter right now.

“i’m going to show you how a real gentleman acts.”

#angelicsoka #imagine #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x seresin!reader #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #miles teller x reader #miles teller imagine

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darkst4lker · 1 month ago

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taste // thranduil.

thranduil oropherion x fem!reader

plot: two weeks and a half ago, thranduil and (y/n) had a messy break up. now, he appears at your friend arwen's birthday party with his ex girlfriend by his side and you decide that if he wants to play that game, you would play it too.

tw: (mdni) modern!au, it's mainly lovers to enemies to lovers but there will be mentions of smut, angst, thranduil behaves like an asshole, misogyny, use of drugs and and alcohol, good ending (?, i changed a lot of things from the lore!!, everyone is like 20-27 here but legolas wasn't even born yet here. YES there's a moment where starts playing lover you should've come over by jeff buckley!!. low caps on purpose.

notes: english is NOT my first language. i'm sorry if there's any mistake. also this is the first time i publish something i write here!!

“(y/n)” tauriel spoke. you and her were helping arwen to decorate her house for her birthday party that same night, yet you were visibly sad for your break up with thranduil. “(y/n), are you okay?”

you weren't okay.

it was the middle of winter. arwen's living room was one of the most comfortables and warm places on earth, in fact all of her house was like that. it was one of the places where you felt more safe than anywhere in the world but today her house felt deadly cold to you.

maybe the problem wasn't arwen's home itself but the fact that your soul was freezing since the day thranduil's deadly words stabbed your heart like a poisoned knife.

“i don't love you anymore, (y/n).”

fucker. you had spent two years together.

in fact, you and thranduil never fought, never argued, never insulted each other while you were together. yet, the day he left you like that, completely out of the blue, you insulted him so much he probably thought that all his family line would be cursed forever.

he said horrible things too, it wasn't just you. but you may had gone too far when you threw an antique vase that belonged to his family for years through the window of his apartment.

in your defense, he was the last person you thought that would leave you.

of course arwen's house felt cold, the whole world felt cold actually. how could anything feel good in this earth when you weren't in thranduil's arms?

you took a deep breath.

it took you a moment to answer to tauriel's question because the vestiges of the last discussion you had with thranduil were fresh in your mind like if it had happened a second ago. you tried to dismiss the storm of memories flooding your mind and you looked at tauriel.

“yeah, im sorry i went blank for a minute.” you answered while hanging up some balloons in the wall. you tried to fake a smile but your tired eyes revealed your sorrows.

“that's it. im tired of seeing her like this, im going to kill him” aragorn said, leaving his spot next to arwen in the kitchen where they were preparing all the food for the party to get his coat, but arwen stopped him right away.

“stop, you're not helping her. we need to stay here by her side.” arwen came out of the kitchen, after aragorn. her calm voice sent chills down your spine.

aragorn crossed his arms and left his coat alone while he sat in a chair facing you.

you sat on the sofa and arwen sat besides you. the decorations were ready and now you didn't had anything else to distract you from the heartbreak im your chest.

“everything is going to be okay, sweetie. i'm sorry you'll have to see him tonight, bard insisted a lot for me to invite him.” arwen words comforted you and then she hugged you softly. aragorn looked annoyed while he leant against the wall and tauriel stood beside him. “sooner or later he will realize what he's missing.”

“better be sooner because i can't believe he hurted (y/n) like this when a month ago he was talking about fucking marrying her.” aragorn said clearly angry. “i know he's my friend and all but... i can't believe that he really did that.”

“well love can be like that sometimes, i guess.” you answered, trying to keep yourself together. “it comes and it goes.”

“yeah right, but is never just like that (y/n).” tauriel voice was calm but she did seem irritated. “i don't understand why on earth he would do that. it doesn't even makes sense.”

“it doesn't matter if it makes sense or not, guys.” you were clearly about to cry but you held it. “what is done is done and we can't go back in time, and neither can thranduil. i will survive this shit.” everyone tried to smile at you while you spoke but you didn't sounded as convinced as you wanted.

yet, you were true. you couldn't go back in time and in fact, the hours passed swiftly and now the night welcomed the birthday party everyone was waiting for.

you got showered and prepared directly in arwen's home. you had brought your outfit and now your body was inside a stunning and tight scarlet dress.

the black heels that you were in made your outfit more mysterious and in your neck there was a lovely silver necklace with a ruby pendant that arwen had let you borrow for the night.

with a little bit of perfume and red lipstick on, you left arwen's room and joined tauriel's side on the party. there wasn't much people yet, a couple university friends from years ago, the boy tauriel always spoke about: kili and his brother fili, gimli, aragorn of course and like five more people.

it wasn't full yet but arwen's home was quite big so the amount of people wasn't going to be a problem.

thranduil by the other hand, he surely was going to be one.

tauriel and you talked for a while, spending time together before she went to dance with her almost-boyfriend, kili.

you really liked kili for your friend, he seemed like a sweet guy. you really hoped they would end up being together and you wished in the deepest places of your heart that he didn't ended up breaking your friend heart.

like certain person did to you.

you drank a little from the bottle of wine aragorn gave you before rushing to dance with arwen and more people started to appear.

the fear of seeing thranduil that night was disappearing by every sip you gave to the wine and soon you even thought that maybe he wasn't even going to come.

a couple hours later, the house was full of people everywhere, it was 11pm, the party had just started hours ago and when you thought you were free from certain blonde, you saw probably the worst thing you could see with alcohol in your system.

thranduil entered the party with a beautiful blonde girl by his side. they both had their hands enterwined and the girl was giggling while they talked. you instantly felt a rush of rage invade your whole body to the point you believed that your brain was on the verge of exploding.

thranduil had a formal black shirt, leaving two buttons unbottoned and revealing his neck, a little sigh escaped from your lips at the heavenlt sight.

and there it was her.

she looked like a goddes pulled out from a fairytale, making your insecurities corrode your guts like a sickness. the tears threatened to fall off your eyes as you watched their entrance from the another side of the room, and the worst was that you recognized her from old pictures thranduil had in his house. that was his ex girlfriend, now actual (you supposed).

when you thought the horror was over, thranduil looked at you from the distance like if he had some kind of radar attached to him that warned him about everytime you looked at his direction.

his ocean blue eyes met yours. it felt like a boat crashing in the middle of a sea infested with mermaids.

his stare was as intoxicating and addictive as always were. the feelings accumulated in your throat like stones and you got scared for a moment before breaking eye contact with him. it lasted just a second, but it felt like a lifetime passed while your eyes met his.

then you quickly took a sip of your bottle of wine, trying to not give him the pleasure of seeing you rush to the bathroom to cry. for what it felt like hours, you had to see him dance with his new girl and you imagined that you were the one dancing with him, kissing him, touching him.

it was unbelieveable. he literally had replaced you.

how could he? why would he?

those questions pierced your heart like swords, like his words did days ago.

“it was just a pause, a distraction. i needed someone to heal what my past relatonship had broken in me and i already did. you served me well and i will always be grateful.”

you 'served him well'? really? what the fuck does he thinks he is? a king?

his words had melted in your ears like a rotten peach. the sweetness of his low voice mixed with a hint of gall flooding every sentence he said.

you understood now what he meant when he said he healed.

by the other hand, thranduil was breathing heavily.

his hands were on his new girlfriend's waist and sometimes he planted soft kisses on her face. yet, he couldn't fully enjoy anything of it. thranduil regretted all his actions, and much more, how he couldn't save your relationship.

he felt like an idiot. all of his thoughts were on you, every kiss he gave her, every look, every loving gesture, he desired it all went to you instead.

thranduil was deeply conflicted, though. even if he knew how wrong he were when you two broke up, he also was quite offended with the things you said.

it felt like a torture, probably the most horrible one on earth and the weight of his actions were killing him more slowly that he would ever wanted to.

thranduil didn't told you his real motives for leaving you, he thought it would only make it worse for both of you. but after leaving, all of his actions felt meaningless now that he didn't had you.

he was proud, and stubborn though. and watching how you left your seat in wich you were obviously staring at him to sit next to bard made his heart ache terribly.

in your mind, bard seemed like an obvious solution: he was hot, he was your friend and long before you started going out with thranduil he and you had spent a couple of nights together. bard obviously recieved your presence with open arms.

"(y/n), sweetheart." bard calm voice welcomed you as you approached the couch where he was drinking a beer. you noticed he had a blunt on the other hand. "you look beautiful as always."

"hi, bard. long time no-see" you took the seat next to him, everyone were dancing and the fact that he was also a very close friend of thranduil made the whole idea of making out with him so much better.

there was a brief moment of silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. the music was peaceful now, tempting every couple to slow dance.

"do yo want some?" he offered you the pot, and you took it while nodding.

as you smoke, bard looks at you with his classic lovely and reassuring smile, only this time he seemed quite drunk and clearly high.

you were a little drunk yourself too.

"i think i needed that, thank you." you give him back the blunt, and he leaves it in the ashtray. after, he looks at you with curiousity.

"are you-" he started to say but you interrupt him.

"yes i am in fact okay, thank you for asking though." the question had you completely exhausted. you rolled your eyes and stared at him right at his, starting to feel the mix of pot and the alcohol making you a little dizzy. "i came to see if we could make out for a while, i don't care if it's your fault he is here, i don't care about him, i don't care about anything. please, help me forget everything for a second like in the old times. please." your voice sounded a little desperate but the truth it was that you were.

the pain in your heart was begging and pleading to be released, to be cured even if it was for a brief moment. it felt like a bomb ticking on your chest that could explode at any moment and bard seemed to notice it.

a soft smile appeared on his face as he spoke. "you do seem to care, sweetie." the nickname made your heart ache a little, all his nicknames did. thranduil used to call you loving names all the time but the last time you two spoke he called you plainly by your name.

you asked yourself if he also was calling her those sweet names too.

your mouth opened to answer bard but the words didn't came out as the heart ache was ripping apart your body from the insides. bard saw your change of expression, knowing you needed help to get the words out of your chest. you did care after all.

bard puffed, trying not to sound melancholic and grabbed your hand softly. “im sorry, love. i know why you're asking me this and you can be sure i understand it, but thranduil made me promise i wouldn't touch you and i don't want to be in the middle of this break up.” as always, he was a pacifist. bard put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a hug. your sight started to get blurry from tears. “it will pass.”

his words echoed in your mind calming every part of you like a balm.

“it will pass.”

you spent what it felt like hours in bard's arms, cying silently. he held you, proving that even if he was thranduil's friend, he was still your friend also. it was a beautiful gesture, and made your soul heal for a while.

yet, an specific sentence of his words lingered in your mind leaving a poison trail on your thoughts: “thranduil made me promise i wouldn't touch you.” why on earth thranduil would care if you fucked bard? what was his problem?

after a moment, you broke the hug and faced bard a little bit ashamed by the way you tried to approach him at first and how you broke down instantly at him reading your feelings like a book. after wiping your tears, you looked at him. your face was swollen from crying but your expression tried to remain calm.

“im sorry i tried to-...” you started, but he cutted you off.

“it doesn't matter, love. it's okay.” bard said, giving you a reassuring stroke on your hand.

a sigh escaped from your lips and then you felt hungry, as you hadn't eat anything in the whole night.

“i will go to the kitchen to get something to eat, i'll be back in a sec.” your voice was trembling at every word but bard smiled at you and nodded, giving you a soft pat on the head before you stood up.

he surely knew how to treat a heartbroken person.

the way to the kitchen was silent, at least for you. the music was still loud but your head was even louder.

your hands placed themselves on the refrigerator door and the familiar soft cold wind welcomed you.

arwen never cared if you took food from her fridge, so you guessed that she probably wouldn't mind if you took an apple. then you closed it, not wanting to be tempted to eat something more and empty the whole refrigerator, leaving your friend having to buy more things tomorrow.

as you ate the apple you remembered how thranduil had cooked you an apple cake one time. it was probably one of the few times he ever baked anything sweet yet the cake resulted to be absolutely perfect.

then you cursed yourself, if you wanted to forget why did he keep coming back in every single little thing you did?

it was like every detail of him was craved deeply onto your heart with no intention of leaving you soon and it hurted more than you could stand.

“you must be (y/n)” a sweet voice called you from behind, and when you turned you saw her.

it was probably one of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. blue eyes, blonde hair and soft lips.

you fully understood why thranduil would ever leave you for her. she was surely beautiful like if she were some kind of angel.

“yes, i am.” the words left your mouth with shyness. she had a smirk on her face, and looked at you while your teeth catched another bite from the apple.

“it's surely nice to meet you.” she answered, but her voice was almost cynical. there was a weird tone of passive aggressiveness behind it but you were probably too high to catch up.

then it became so obvious you couldn't avoid it.

“thran spoke a lot about you.” she continued, getting closer to you. “but i'm sure that he will soon stop.” then she walked some more steps to your direction and you placed the apple on the counter, swallowing hard.

you didn't realized that you probably had a sad look on your face until she spoke again.

“oh, don't put on that face.” she said, chuckling. there was a mocking subtone on her words. “thran will forget you quickly.” her words felt like a sting through your chest. “you surely don't seem as beautiful nor interesting as everyone said, and i will clearly erase you from his heart.”

you were about to answer, but then you saw thranduil appear behind her like if he were searching for her, and it was too much for you to handle. it was too humilliating to see him watching how his girlfriend completely destroyed you.

your steps were fast as you left the kitchen clearly at the verge of tears. the bathroom was the first door you saw as you almost ran out of the room.

the door felt heavy against your hands but it was nothing you couldn't handle. the first instinct you had was sit on the floor, knees against your chest and finally letting it all out.

you didn't cared if anyone heard you. the heartbreak was a weight in your chest that you needed to purge the fastest way possible, even if thranduil mocked you with his girlfriend outside, even of everyone only felt pity for you, even if the world ended tomorrow.

the pain needed to come out.

and as you finally gave yourself permission to cry, the bathroom door started to open.

you almost didn't noticed, as the sounds were minimum but what you did noticed was the cologne thranduil always wore.

your stare didn't raised to face him, and he closed the door.

“what on earth are you doing?” his voice sounded like a dagger through your heart, and then you looked at him from the ground.

“i didn't asked you to come here.” your answer was harsh. “you're clearly having a lot of fun with all of this.”

“i don't care about what you think, (y/n).” you felt like your name was cursed on his lips. thranduil's voice was serious. “i asked you a question.”

you got angry instantly. how dared he to even ask something like that?

as you stood up to face him properly, your face swollen from tears and by looking him in the eyes you noticed he was probably high too. yet the weed nor the alcohol were clouding his senses that much.

his eyes were like an ocean, and you were drowning in it. quickly and deeply.

“i don't know what on earth do you want me to answer. i literally don't know.” you said, clearly irritated with his attitude and your voice trembling with fury. “what the fuck do you want me to say?”

“don't talk to me like that” he answered harshly. memories of your last fight came to you like a storm. “i asked you why are you crying in the bathroom like a pathetic little girl” thranduil said. “you were clearly capable of defending yourself two weeks ago”

instantly, you understood he was talking about the fight.

“and you were the same imbecile you're being now.” the answered came from your lips almost drowning you in venom and thranduil's expression became more cold than before if that was even possible. “it didn't occur to you, that maybe and just maybe, i don't want to fight for a man like you in the middle of my friend birthday party?”

“a man like me?” he sounded almost offended, and took a step closer to you, his head over yours and his serious eyes looking down at you. “you were dying for a man like me not even a month ago”

and you were still dying for him.

as thranduil was much taller than you, after the break up you discovered that arguing with him was one of the most intimidating things you'd ever done.

yet you faced him with bravery, not letting him ruin the last pieces you had from your broken heart.

“well i don't want to anymore.” you said and he got more closer, his chest almost touching yours.

“and what kind of man do you want then? you want a man like bard?” thranduil asked and he sounded annoyed, his face was stoic but the subtone of his words betrayed his feelings.

he sounded jealous, and he clearly was.

“and what is your problem if i do?” you bited back, pushing his buttons. “maybe he'll treat me way much better than you, in fact, i'm pretty sure he wouldn't replace or use me « to heal » in the first place.” you avoided his eyes while you spoke, not wanting your look to give away the fact that you didn't wanted to be with anyone else than thranduil.

thranduil let out an irritated puff, then his hand went straight to your face, grabbing it tightly, forcing you to look at him.

“then go date him, (y/n).” he said, his voice becoming rough. “that's really what you want?” thranduil asked.

you didn't answered, as you became nervous. yet your hands went to his chest, trying to push him out but it was useless.

thranduil was visibly angry and an irritated chuckle left his lips.

“but i don't think you want that, do you love?” he said, not really expecting you to say anything, cause he already knew the answer. “actually, if i remember correctly, less than a month ago you were in my bed whimpering for me.”

thranduil calling you « love » again made your heart skip a beat as the rest of his words burned your skin like a wildfire.

“why are you throwing a tantrum, thranduil?” you asked, annoyed. he was completely delusional if he thought you wouldn't fire back. “isn't your new girlfriend enough for you that you have to come looking for me like a little puppy?” every word you said felt like if you were digging your own grave, but you didn't cared at all. thranduil's grip on your face became harder.

the next thing that happened was probably the last thing you expected.

thranduil kissed you fiercely, like a unleashed beast. it was agressive, but you played along.

it was like drinking from an oasis in the middle of the dessert, and you answered him with the same obsessive hunger. you broke the kiss briefly to push him almost violently against the bathroom door, and then you were the one to attack his mouth to shut him up before he could say anything.

a slow song started to sound loudly in the house, making the contact more passionate.

« maybe i'm too young, to keep good love from going wrong »

thranduil went from kissing you like an animal to kiss you tenderly, his hand releasing your face to caress your head. he subtely guided you to the floor, where he sat with his back against the door and you placed yourself in his lap, straddling him.

minutes passed, his lips tasted like if you were drinking napalm making your loins burn, and your blood rushed quickly to your cheeks. both of his hands placed themselves on your hips, pulling you closer as his tongue asked you permission to enter your mouth.

« so 'll wait for you, love, and I'll burn. will I ever see your sweet return? »

you open your mouth and let him do as he please, and thranduil takes the opportunity, introducing his tongue. then, the kiss abandoned its sweet nature to become an agressive fight between the both of you, again. your hands move to his hair, making it messy.

thranduil wastes no time and one of his hands moves to your neck, making a little bit of pressure, while kissing you.

the kiss is broken up by the need to take a little bit of air, and you both look at eachother in the eyes, his hand not leaving its place.

« it's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter »

“i hate you” you say agitated, your lips swollen from the past interaction.

he chuckled, breathing heavily. “i hate you too.”

« it's never over, she is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever »

and then he pulled you to kiss you again, roughly. his left hand went under your dress, caressing your thigh and the other made presure on your neck and made you sigh in between the kiss. thranduil smiled as you kept kissing eachother hungrily, now moving his hand closer to the sweet spot between your legs.

you made sure to kiss him hard, and bited his lip with delicacy as he moved your underwear to the side, thinking that if you were lucky, his girlfriend would taste you too when she kissed him.

thranduil touched you freely, like he still loved you. you whined against his mouth, and he broke the kiss.

“you still want to go out with bard?” he asked, releasing your neck to make you look at him by grabbing your chin. his other hand was between your legs, playing with you and making you sigh again.

« lover, you should've come over, 'cause it's not too late »

there was a brief silence as you tried to hold yourself together to give him an answer.

“n-no.” you said. “do you love her?” the sudden question came from your lips in an agitated whimper as you looked him in the eyes. for some reason you felt he almost rewarded you by moving his hand faster against you, making you gasp.

“no.” thranduil finally asnwered only for you to kiss him again. you grabbed both sides of his face, and his right hand caressed your hair softly.

and then your little make out session was terribly interrupted by loud and violent knocks on the door. you both stood up quickly, like children being caught doing a mischief.

he made you a sign to keep quiet and spoke.

“yes?” thranduil said, calmly.

“babe, is that you?” you rolled your eyes at the sound of his girlfriend's voice. thranduil noticed and a little mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

“yes, it's me. give me five minutes.” he answered, his voice was too calm for the events that unfolded just moments before.

thranduil then pressed you against the wall, next to the door so the door could cover your presence while he went out. you wondered if his new girlfriend was really that stupid to not notice her, but you quickly thought that if thranduil was doing this he probably believed too that she was indeed stupid.

you admired how he always knew how to manage all the situations, but something in your chest ached when he gave you another kiss before whispering a soft « i love you » and opening the door, leaving you shocked.

he loved you. thranduil really loved you.

“im here, love.” thranduil said to her, covering your presence with the door and showing his girlfriend that no one was in the bathroom with him. at least to her eyes.

“the party is ending, thran. we should go.” she said. oh you loathed her, and a part of you hated thranduil for leaving you for her. you wanted him to say no, to stay with you, but he didn't.

“okay. let's go.” he answered, and exited the bathroom, leaving you alone but forgetting to turn off the light.

you walked to the mirror, saw your messy make up, the frustrated look on your face after being interrupted and your lips subtly swollen from the kisses and you laughed.

you fucking laughed.

you laughed because, no matter what she could say or do to compete with you, you've already won. he didn't loved her, he was yours. and you hoped; no, you knew, that everytime she kissed him, she would have to taste you too.

and to think you didn't intended to fight over him on the first place, but now the game was on.

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKED THIS!! it was super hard for me to finish this, and i plan to do a part 2 so stay tuned <3

#thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #thranduil of mirkwood #lotr #thehobbit #the elvenking #legolas #legolas x reader #legolas imagine #bard the bowman #bard x reader #bard imagines #aragorn #arwen undomiel #tauriel #lord of the rings

106 notes · View notes

detectivestucks · 10 months ago

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Anything to Save the Marriage

18+ Content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader x Obito

Summary: You are left missing your husband Kakashi while he spends all hours at headquarters busy with his Hokage duties. Obito sees how lonely you are and uses his new jutsu to save your marriage while living out his adolescent fantasy.

Warnings: NSFW, shibari, candle wax, unprotected penetration, mind control

Word Count: 5.9k

“Hi Angel. What brings you by?” Kakashi asks his doting wife.

You gently set a boxed lunch down on his desk before giving his cheek a kiss. “I’m making sure you don’t starve while serving our nation.” you say, eyes softly staring back into his with a sweet smile gracing your lips. All while resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the silly question.

“Will you be home for supper? I was thinking of making your favorite.”

“I’m sorry Angel. I can’t tonight.”

Despite your attempt to conceal it, Kakashi sees the pang in your chest at his answer. “That’s okay.” you say as you grab his hand. “I’ll bring some to you.”

Before you could so much as begin a real conversation with your husband of several years, a shinobi enters the room with a sense of urgency.

“Lord Sixth, we have a report.”

Kakashi looks over at you with an expression of guilt, knowing he has to go back to doing his job.

“It’s alright, I’ll stop by later.” you say with a gracious smile as you bow your head slightly at both your husband and the jonin, before you slip out of the room.

It had been like this for months. No one said it was easy to be married to the Hokage. But you really missed how your relationship used to be. You missed the romantic dates, the bubble baths, sneaking around in the bushes during missions, and even sharing a night's rest together. Recently he spent more time sleeping at his desk than he did in your shared bed.

You felt awful for having such selfish thoughts. He was working so hard and doing so much for the good of everyone around you. Your sacrifice was nothing compared to his. You shake your head to rid your mind of such thoughts as you walk to the market to pick up ingredients to make his favorite dish. If you can’t spend time with him, you might as well make him as happy as you can during your brief interactions. That starts with making sure he has something good to eat.

While clouded in thought you quite literally bumped into a focused Obito, kneeling on the ground.

“Oof” he says as you roll over the boulder of a man. His built figure didn’t even shift on impact while you fell over him like a rag doll, only landing back on your feet due to muscle memory left from your days as a shinobi.

“Y/N!” he exclaims with a bright smile.

“Obito!” you say as you go in for a hug. “What are you doing?”

“I was just exercising my sharingan.”

“Exercising it?” you say intrigued. You know that one of Obito’s many abilities is that he can replicate the jutsus of his fellow shinobi. So whenever he tells you he is ‘exercising’ his eyes, you know he’s up to something good.

“I’m trying to replicate the Yamanaka mind-transfer jutsu”

“Ohhh, that’s a fascinating one! Why didn’t you try that years ago while you were still out on missions?”

“I don’t know. Cause I’m thick and didn’t think of it till a few weeks ago.”

“A few weeks? It seems you’ve lost your touch.”

Obito gives you a half hearted glare. It was easy to mimic a jutsu while someone was doing it infront of him. His sharingan only needed to follow along. It was harder to recall the jutsu from memory let alone make it his own.

“I can do the mind transfer no problem” he says defensively, “I’m trying to improve upon it.”

“Oh? So you’re trying to develop a new jutsu?”

Obito begins to blush. He can see how impressed you are and he was never good at receiving your praise. You were the only woman who could fluster him, and you never seemed to notice how you did it with ease.

“Yes, I’m trying to develop a new jutsu.” he says with a scratch to the back of his head.

“That’s marvelous Obito!”

“Uhh, thanks!” He gives you a sheepish smile.

“Hey, uh, do you want to get together later?”

Obito gives you a look of great surprise.

You’d grown apart in recent years. You didn’t see him much anymore. You used to hang out all the time as kids and he was the best man at your wedding to Kakashi but after that his visits became less and less frequent. His responsibilities within the Anbu kept him out on lengthy missions and home for only a few hours at a time. However, you noticed him around more recently. Kakashi had promoted him to director of the Anbu forces. He needed someone he trusted with his life, who also had significant experience to direct his elite team.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“It’s just, wouldn’t you rather spend the evening with your husband?”

“Well I would,” you say sarcastically, making light fun of him “but that hasn’t really been an option as of late.”

“I-I’m sorry to hear that.” he looks at the ground feeling pity for you.

“It’s fine. He’s doing his best and what he’s doing is important. I can’t ask for anything more.”

“Well you’re truly his Angel if that’s how you feel.”

You give a small smile at his usage of Kakashi’s pet name for you.

“So, wanna hang out tonight? I’m gonna drop dinner off at Kakashi’s office but after that I’m free as a bird.”

“I don’t know Y/N”

“Oh, come on Obi, please!” you say putting on your sweetest smile, trying to sway him. “Don’t make me spend another night by myself. I think I might go deaf from the silence.”

“Fine.” he says reluctantly. He could never say no to you. It was an exceedingly frustrating power of yours. “But only if you save some of whatever you’re making for Kakashi. I want a home cooked meal out of this.”

“Deal.”

You smile victoriously at him before you say your goodbyes, continuing on your way to the market. Satisfied by your negotiation and excited to not have to spend another night alone in the isolating silence of your recent marriage.

**************************************************

You open your front door, bags in hand. “Honey I’m home!” you sing pretending that your adoring husband will suddenly appear to take the bags out of your hands and give you a peck on the cheek.

You let out a sad sigh as you gaze around your empty home. You really missed him. Everything about him. How he’d always greet you at the door with a helping hand. How he’d lean down to kiss you while you sat on the couch. How he’d massage your feet after a long day. How he’d make sure every Wednesday was a special date night. How he’d kiss you after your morning work out together. How you’d get a glimpse of his abs as he raised his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

He was your favorite person in the entire world and he was the perfect husband. The village was indeed lucky to have him. They couldn’t be in better hands.

Hands that were large with slender, dexterous fingers. Fingers that would graze your hips and slide up your sides as they found their way inside your shirt to grab your-

You shake your head again and wipe you drool opting to focus on the task at hand. You were sure he missed you as much as you missed him. The least you could do is support him by making sure he’s well fed. You busy yourself with getting out the pots and pans. No time to cry, you have a hungry Hokage to feed.

Everything is made and divided out into containers. You cooked enough to last him a few meals and kept a couple helpings out for Obito. Instead of eating the dish you just prepared, you opted to make yourself a simple sandwich, wanting to save as much of the food for Kakashi as possible.

You tidy your house (not that there was much cleaning to do given how devoid your home was of its occupants) before packing up a meal to bring to your husband. As you stroll over to headquarters you wonder how long of a conversation you’ll have this time. You wonder if you’ll get to tell him that Obito’s coming for a visit.

Or will it be a simple drive by like lunch?

You were thrilled to find him alone in his office, buried under a stack of paperwork. You sauntered up to his chair and put down his meal as you leaned against the desk.

“Mmmm, did you bring dessert with my meal?” he says, eyeing you up and down, grabbing your hips as he stands up to tower over you. You lift your hand and slide your finger under his mask about to lower it for a kiss when the door opens yet again with three shinobi barging through. The two of you drop your hands and Kakashi sits back down in his chair.

“I’ll leave you to your work sweetie.” you say with a pat to his shoulder.

He lifts his hand to rest it on yours. “Tomorrow maybe.”

You give him a half hearted smile, knowing that ‘maybe’ means ‘no’ but you didn’t want him to feel guilty so you pretend that it’s okay and you quietly exit his office.

Once out of sight you let a few tears trickle down your cheeks. It had been days since you so much as kissed your husband. The loneliness was starting to consume you. Each interaction left you feeling more alone than the last. You felt a pressure on your chest. You couldn’t shake the feeling and it caused you to hiccup during your walk home.

You stride up to your front door to see a mildly annoyed Obito waiting for you. You smile upon seeing him but his face drops into a look of deep concern.

“Y/N, what is it? What’s wrong?”

You realize he must have caught a sliver of your unhappiness before he had brightened your mood.

“It’s nothing.” you say unconvincingly as another hiccup follows your response.

“It’s not nothing. You know better than to lie to me.”

“It’s okay Obito. It’s not something that can be helped.” you say moving past him to unlock the door. Another hiccup betraying your attempts to seem fine.

The two of you step inside when Obito spins you around placing both arms on your shoulders.

“You’re not fine. What’s going on?”

He gives you a serious stare. You fold and let out a deep breath. Feeling the tears brim along your lash line, you squeak out, “I- I just- I miss my husband.”

His heart ached. You were the sweetest little flower. Always so pure, with a heart made of gold, reserved just for Kakashi. Of course his absence would affect you more. How could it not? He had the distraction of taking care of the village while you were the one sleeping in an empty bed.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think about how lonely it must be for you.”

“It’s silly, I know.” you say ashamed, wiping your eyes.

“It’s not silly. It’s human.” He gives you a hug. “Well…I’m here now. Care to do something together?”

“Yes please.” You speak into his chest.

He laughs at how adorable your muffled request sounds before letting go.

You stride over to your closet and pull out a couple board games. “You interested in playing any of these?”

A malicious grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he looks up at you. “You’re really gonna let me choose?”

You laugh already knowing which game he is gunning for.

“Go ahead. You know you want to.”

For the first time in months laughter filled your home. Effortless conversation flowed between you and your old friend. Warmth that had been absent for weeks occupied the room.

Obito was relieved to see you smile. Happiness suits you. You fill the room with joy when you smile, no matter where you are or what you’re doing. When you’re happy it infects everyone around you. Seeing you anything but happy brings an uncomfortable tightness to his core.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I haven’t been checking in on you.”

“It’s not your responsibility, Obito.”

“Yes it is. I’m your friend and I work with Kakashi. I knew how much he’d been sleeping at the office. I should have come over sooner.”

You look at the board in front of you not wanting Obito to see your eyes mist up so easily at the reminder of your loneliness. He reaches over and grabs your hand.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. If Kakashi’s home I’ll leave you two be, and if he’s not, you can take your shot at redemption.”

You glare at him with a smile,“You little shit.” He always got so cocky when you played board games together, but the relief of knowing you would have company was clearly visible to him.

You walk him to the door to wish him goodbye. He pulls you in tight and kisses the top of your head. “It’ll all be okay. It’s just temporary.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.”

Though he felt genuinely terrible for you, he couldn’t help but savor the hug. You were so beautiful and Obito wished he could hold you like this all the time.

You never knew about Obito’s feelings for you. He had them ever since puberty. You were always pretty, but you grew into a real beauty around the age of fourteen. Obito certainly wasn’t the only boy to notice you either. However, being your friend, he already knew which boy had taken a hold of your heart, and Obito knew from a young age that he never stood a chance.

Despite what a little prick Kakashi was back in the day, Obito also knew Kakashi had feelings for you too. You were one of the only classmates he was respectful towards and he sometimes would give you a compliment or words of praise. Something his arrogant younger self did seldom. It wouldn’t be till much later that he actually began to pursue you. Obito never told Kakashi about his feelings towards you, but he’s sure Kakashi still knew. Shortly after the wedding he asked for an uptake in missions, not wanting to be around to witness your marital bliss. He needed space to get over you and the missions stood to occupy his mind while he did just that. He would never do anything to jeopardize your relationship though. He supported you both.

Yet now here you are, warm in his arms, body pressed up against his. He chuckles knowing his younger self would have fainted. Regrettably you let go of him and it was time to leave you be.

When Obito left you turned to face your empty house. The silence is as excruciating as ever. You clean the dishes and put away the boardgames. You brush your hair and teeth, dress in your pajamas and slip in between the covers to spend another night alone. You roll over to look at Kakashi’s side of the bed. You imagine him laying down next to you. Stroking your hand and kissing the back of it to say goodnight. You let out a deep sigh before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

*************************************************

The next morning you whip up breakfast, pack it in a container and go find your husband. You turn the knob of Kakashi’s office and open the door to find him asleep at his desk. Softly snoring with a small drop of drool wetting his mask; he looked so peaceful. You didn’t want to wake him so you quietly placed his breakfast near him before brushing his hair out of his face and planted a light kiss on his forehead.

“Maybe I’ll catch you at lunch, love” you whisper to him and with that, you retreat to your home.

Obito catches you on your way out the building. He sees the defeated look on your face and knows, once again you were unable to spend time with your husband. He had never seen you look so sad. He started to worry about you.

Predictably, Kakashi could not come home. He spent another evening in his office while you spent the evening with Obito. Not only could he see how lonely you are but he could see how badly you craved intimacy. Intimacy in any form. Be it a kiss, a hug, or just holding hands. He could feel the tension in your chakra. It was so thick that it started to stir desires in him that he had long suppressed. He needed to alleviate your frustration, to save your marriage. If Kakashi wasn’t careful he may lose you. You have needs after all. If he wasn’t going to pay his wife any attention, you may look elsewhere. Luckily Kakashi happened to have a friend ready and willing to help.

What Obito told you was true. He could do the mind transfer jutsu just fine. He was adding onto it. Instead of just taking over the body while the other person sat passenger side observing what was happening, he was working to make it so that the mind of the possessed person believed they were making the choices of their own accord while Obito was in full control. Less of a mind transfer jutsu and more of a mind control jutsu. This would be a perfect time to test it out.

Your needy body would finally be taken care of by your absentee husband while he, Obito, did all the things to you he had always wanted to.

…for the sake of your marriage of course.

While you turn on the television, he puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I’m gonna make sure he takes the night off tomorrow.”

“Pfff, good luck.”

“I’m serious. I’ll make sure of it. Even if I need to stay at the office in his place. I’ll make sure me and Shikamaru have it covered.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Obi” you retort as you lay your head against his chest, feeling the comfort of having literally anyone to lean against.

He kissed the top of your head before facing the tv, allowing his mind to swarm with all the memories of things he’s wanted to do to you over the years. A cloying smile involuntarily splitting his face.

************************************************

The next afternoon Obito strutted into Kakashi’s office.

“Hey Obito, how can I help you?”

“You’re spending the night with your wife.”

Kakashi looked down, feeling guilt weigh on him.

“You haven’t been home in days and you smell. Go home and take a shower.”

“I just took a shower in the Anbu locker room this morning!”

“Fine. You haven’t been home in days and you have bags under your eyes. Go home and take a nap.”

“What’s up with you?”

Obito turns to ‘look around the room’ while he discretely weaves hand signs before turning back towards Kakashi. He faced Kakashi, leaning over the desk so his eyes were inches from him.

“I think it’s a good idea to go home, can you stay behind and cover me, Obito?”

And like a hypnotized parrot Kakashi repeats,

“I think it’s a good idea to go home, can you stay behind and cover me, Obito?”

Obito smiles as Kakashi stands up and walks around the desk. Obito had Kakashi shake his hand and leave the room. As he does, Obito takes a seat in Kakashi’s chair and closes his eyes to sit back and enjoy the ride as he steers Kakashi home towards your sweet arms.

***************************************************

Standing outside your home Obito digs the keys out of Kakashi’s pocket and opens the door. He can hear the shower running in your en suite bathroom. He closes the door behind him just as you turn off the water.

Obito’s heart begins to flutter. She’s already naked. He quickly strides over to catch you drying yourself off with a fuzzy towel.

You look marvelous. More beautiful than he even imagined. Your perky mounds hanging just a little lower without the support of a bra, nipples stiffened from the cold air outside the warm shower, they stood at attention for his gaze. Your waistline cinched in before filling out around your hips where your glutes rounded your frame. Thighs plush and grabable thinning out towards your ankles where polished toenails adorned your feet.

“Babe?” you say in complete surprise as you look back at your husband staring at you more intensely than he ever has in his life.

“Oh hey baby!”

“Baby? Since when do you call me baby?" You say, still shocked that your husband is standing in your home and has the most bizarre look of hunger on his face.

“Sorry Angel, I’m just so tired. I forgot myself.” Obito says stretching Kakashi’s mouth into a warm smile

“Oh, if that’s the case, I’ll warm up some food so you can eat and go to bed.”

You wrap the towel around your chest, walking towards Kakashi to get clothes from your bedroom dresser. Obito stops you with Kakashi’s arm against the doorframe.

“Actually, if I’m gonna eat, I can think of something I’d like instead.”

He felt ridiculous saying it, but he’d always wanted to try a bold line like that with you. At least that’s how he imagines it in his fantasies.

You give him a devious smile through your lashes. Thank gods!

You lunge upwards locking your lips onto your husband's mouth, arms wrapped around his neck as your towel falls to the floor. Obito feels Kakashi’s entire body set on fire. He needed to be rid of these pesky clothes ASAP. Before he places his hands on you, he’s pulling off his jacket and tugging down his pants while you pull off his shirt. He wanted to feel your soft bare skin against his toned chest.

Bodies completely barren, Obito cannot get enough of your taste as Kakashi’s body stands up to his full height. Hands greedily exploring your skin, Obito had never known perfection till he touched you.

Pent up sexual frustration made you eager. You kissed down your husband’s body as you sank to your knees. Lips delicately kissing along each muscle during your descent. Obito could feel your warm breath on Kakashi’s chest. His heart was fluttering at the sensation and he almost lost himself with the excitement of what was about to happen next.

You settle on your knees before him, hand around his base and mouth kissing his tip. You take in only the head while your tongue toys with the slit. Obito’s eyes roll back into Kakashi’s skull. You were masterful with your tongue. You hand stroked his shaft while your mouth kept playing, focusing the suction on just his end.

“Fuuuck, Angel.”

Your bright eyes beam up at him with a less than angelic gleam. You enjoyed this. You liked manipulating him with your mouth. You enjoyed how it was making his knees weak and causing him to lean on the wall. He did not expect this from you.

He placed Kakashi’s hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you down on his length. You gladly accepted, allowing your nose to kiss his silver happy trail. Obito couldn’t help but give out a choked groan. It sounded so strange hearing him groan in Kakashi’s voice but you took him so well and the sensation of your throat tight around the end of his shaft was beyond anything he had ever dared to imagine.

Without asking, you bobbed back and forth, dick sliding in and out with ease as you kept your mouth wide open. You let the slobber pool around your bottom lip and spill onto your chest and thighs as you sink back on your heels.

Wanting you to go faster, he twisted your hair into a ponytail and guided you along at a quickened pace. The lewd noises of your throat closing around his tip over and over again rang through the air. His cock began twitching. He was about to cum. Dammit, not yet!

Feeling him twitch, you reach up and massage his jewels, only making it harder for him to contain himself. No amount of restraint could stop it from happening. He felt the seed gush out of his tip and swirl around your throat before you swallowed it. Your throat closing around his softening dick as you did.

You stand up, a little bit of drool mixed with cum falling out of the corner of your mouth as you smile and wipe it off.

“Very good baby. You ready to give me round two?”

Round two?! Obito thought. Is this normal for them? Sure enough, as the thought formed, so did the erection swelling and pushing its way between your plush thighs.

Thank gods Kakashi can go multiple rounds back to back. Now I can really play.

He corners you in the room, caging you against the wall with his arms. You have a look of fear in your eyes that has excitement etched behind it.

“What are you going to do to me Daddy?”

Obito could feel Kakashi’s nipples stiffen at the pet name. He reached out Kakashi’s hand and enclosed it around your slender throat.

“I’m going to tie you up and abuse those beautiful holes of your’s.”

Your eyes were set ablaze.

Closing the fingers tighter around your throat, he leans down and whispers in your ear.

“Now go get the rope, slut.”

You moan and try to crane your head to kiss him. He squeezes harder and tuts.

“Not till you bring me your bindings.”

The weight on your throat is released. You scamper over to where you keep the condoms, lube, cuffs, and rope. You grab the bundle and return to a waiting Kakashi. Silver hair looming above you, scarred face looking down with lust, as his lips hungrily curl above his beauty mark. Your inner thighs were a mess, thick slick coating them in excitement.

“Turn”

You face away from him and hold your hands behind your back. He ties around your wrists and runs the rope in between them. You give a small moan as the knot tightens. Obito felt Kakashi’s pulse quicken. Maybe he could take this a step further.

“You like that don’t you.”

“Mhm” you whimper

Obito has Kakashi pull the rope tight around your elbows and torso, knotting your arms in a shibari pattern.

When the fuck had Kakashi learned this?!

You were on the verge of cumming before he even touched between your legs. When he was done he pushed you down on the bed. Your face planted into the soft mattress and your rear was raised high in the air. Kakashi swatted your bottom and you let out squeals of pleasure.

“Does my little slut like that?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Well you shouldn’t!” he scolds with a heavy spank.

You scream in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“Look how wet you are for me. Mind if I have my meal?”

You nod with your face still smushed into the mattress.

Obito dives in anxious to know how you taste. It was sweet with a hint of a tangy aftertaste. How could it not be sweet? It was you. He could feast down here for hours. You had so much cum to lap up from your weeks of pent up desire. He hoped that he could keep a hold of Kakashi’s mind long enough to taste it all.

He licked your thighs clean first. Enjoying your moans as Kakashi’s velvety tongue ran up your sensitive skin. Then he tickled your bud as he pointed his tongue, letting it sink into your hole while it made its way from your clit to your rear, gathering as much of your sweet cream as it could. His tongue scoops out the white dessert from between your folds and he can hear you hyperventilate with pleasure. He looked down at your feet and saw how your toes curled. He did that. He made your toes curl.

“Ah! Please! Fuck me Daddy!”

Obito had Kakashi flip you over, your body resting on top of your bound arms, your knees propped up and spread open.

“Not till I taste every last drop.” He husks into your heat.

A trail of goosebumps visible on your abdomen. He kneels on the side of the bed and pulls you down into his face as his nose nudges against your ticklish bud. Sucking and slurping you squirm from the stimulation. You scream praises and thank him for how he spoils you. His ears ringing with satisfaction. He starts rutting against the side of the bed, needing friction against the length between his legs.

Finding the will to stop, a large hand slaps down against your sex causing you to flinch. Your pitiful cry was enough to make precum leak onto the bedspread.

Lining up with your slit, he pushes between your folds. His vision goes white and for a moment he thinks he lost control of the jutsu. But he can still feel you. No, he’s still in control. He takes a deep breath that is broken up by a shudder as your walls swallow every inch.

I’m only marrying a girl if she feels exactly like this. How does Kakashi ever leave her alone? I don’t think I’d be able to leave the bed.

Vision coming back, he looks down on you. You’re biting your tongue anxiously waiting for his thrusts. A crooked smile twisting onto his face, he gives a punctuated thrust that scoots you up the bed.

“Is that what you were waiting for?”

He does it again.

You nod pathetically.

“My little slut needed some friction?”

“Yes Daddy.”

His grin widening, he thrusts into you with all of his might. It was violent. How you were able to handle his passion amazed him. You should be split in half by this but instead your eyes roll back in enjoyment. Kakashi certainly kept this bit of information to himself. No worries, he knows your dirty little secret now.

Stacking your knees on top of each other, he lays you on your side, continuing his assault. Your sounds filled the room. He covers your mouth to hear how cute you sound muffled by his hand. His fingers feel as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Yes, take it.”

You allow your head to collapse onto the bed as a guttural groan falls from your lips.

Obito looks over at the scented candle lit beside the bed. He pushes your shoulder back down so you are on your back, legs sprawled. A mischievous grin graced his face before you caught the glint of danger that flashed across Kakash’s eyes as he reached for the candle.

You bite your lip in anticipation of what happens next. Length still filling your needy walls, he tips the candle so that melted wax drips onto your chest. You feel it sear your skin as it drips to your nipple. He tilts again. Your hips buck up as you pull air between your teeth. Kakashi’s mouth grunts as he feels you constrict around him from the pain. Your eyes burn with lust, daring him to keep going but he can’t contain himself. Obito resumes his earlier pace as he watches the wax harden on your tits.

All he can think as he drives into you is how can Kakashi stand to be away from you instead of doing filthy things to your perfect body? Sweat rolls down his arms and chest. Squelching emits from between your legs. Mewling from your lips. He couldn’t stop himself from dragging in and out of you, even if he wanted to.

Fingers dig deep in your flesh as he grips you. Desperate to keep your hips flush with his. You preen at the depth of his intrusion while your arms go numb from your bindings. He leans down, needing his lips on yours. Slowing down his thrust so they were long but deep with each inward snap.

You bit his lip, pulling back as you open your eyes to gaze up at him. You were happy. Your face was tired and fucked out, but you were happier than he’s seen you all week.

“Am I taking good care of you Angel?”

“Mmm, yes Daddy, thank you.”

Obito begins to peel off the hardened wax while he casually thrust fore and aft. You squirm and clamp down around him as each piece releases. The feeling making him twitch inside of you.

You gasp as he peels off the wax directly over your nipple. Like ripping off a bandaid, you wince, before his tongue licks soothing circles over your irritated nub. Soft moans of relief fill Kakashi’s ears, running circles of joy around Obito’s mind.

His arms circle around you while he suckles. His fingers finding their way under the rope, gripping the intricate ties. You gush around him while his tongue flicked over your nubs made sensitive from the removal of the hardened wax. Sealing his lips around them and sucking in hard, you coo for him as slick drips onto the bed underneath where your bodies meet.

“Mmm, you’re just a little slut, aren’t you? Cumming for me like this.”

“Yes, ah!”

Obito releases you and flips you onto your knees, face again shoved into the mattress. Lining the tip up once more, every inch finds itself buried inside of you. Your vulgar noises are lost in the soft bed as you’re pounded from behind. Thighs colliding with your rear, balls slapping against your swollen bud. You immediately cum, walls fluttering around the length inside of you.

Obito doesn’t care, he continues to use Kakashi to rail through you, not giving your sensitive cunt a second to recover. You spiral into orgasm again. Toes curling as you screech from the over stimulation. You writhe under him causing him to lose control. Spilling Kakashi’s spend inside of you as he thrusts erratically, milking every drop into your tight hole.

Still inside, Obito reaches over, grabbing the kunai from Kakashi’s nightstand and cuts through the rope, releasing your arms before collapsing on top of you. You close your eyes feeling comforted by the weight and warmth of his body on top of yours.. Obito peppered kisses on your cheek as you gave your husband the most radiant smile.

He leaned up looking for the towel you dropped earlier and saw the white milk leak out of you. He groaned at the sight wishing to etch it into his memory forever.

“Care for another shower?”

You give him a knowing smile trodding after him. You hold each other under the warm spray. Hands playfully exploring the other. Obito hums as you feel Kakashi’s built backside, digging your fingers in as you pull yourself into him.

He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head and closing his eyes. Obito wanted to stay. He wanted to know what it would be like to lay with you, to wake up next to you, have you cook him breakfast, but he couldn’t risk someone catching him in Kakashi’s office.

He released the jutsu, knowing Kakashi will sleep well in his bed next to his wife.

When Obito blinks his eyes, he finds himself back in his own body. He looks down and sees that he’s made a mess of the front of his pants.

Shit, really?! Well this was an unforeseen side effect.

Masterlist

#kakashi x reader #obito x reader #kakashi x reader x obito #kakashi x you #obito x you #kakashi is daddy #kakashi smut #kakashi hatake #obito uchiha #obito smut #kakashi senpai #obito is daddy #kakashi fanfiction #story requests

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ash5monster01 · 7 months ago

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Turnstiles

Chapter Four - I’ve Loved These Days 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, abandonment issues, slight sadness.

Summary: You and Steve get your first place together and even if it isn’t glamorous, it’s good enough for the both of you as you leave the old days behind.

word count: 2.6k

Three ←→ Five

Masterlist

Summer 1988

We hide our hearts from harder times

There were so many boxes. It seemed to be a never ending pile from the back of the moving truck, one neither of you could really afford but needed. Even with Dustin and Robin helping carry each new box in, it seemed every time you returned to the truck there was just as many if not more. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as you looked at the very daunting pile that you knew would take you more than likely a month to finally put all in place.

“Don’t tell me we’re giving up already” that familiar sultry voice whispered in your ear, arms snaking around your waist from behind.

“Not giving up, just trying to gain the courage” you tell him, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. You knew as much as Steve would try to help he would also play with everything he unpacked before actually putting it away, making the process much longer than it needed to be.

“It’s not that bad” Steve said with a soft shake of his head, small tufts of hair falling loose from the action.

“Yes it is, you packed every trophy you have ever earned in your entire life” you tell him, pointing to the large box labeled ‘Steve’s Achievements’.

“Hey I earned those, I can’t just throw them out” Steve pouts as you break out of his arms, doing your best attempt at climbing up into the truck to grab another box.

“I know handsome, I just have to tease” you say leaning down and he’s happy to bring his pouty lips to yours and leave a quick kiss. As much as you teased, you had felt bad. When Steve announced to his parents you were officially getting a place together they decided to put the house up for sale since they were never there anyways. As much as Steve didn’t have a great childhood it was still the only home he had ever known. You knew it took a toll on him and forced him to pack every single one of his belongings instead of the necessities.

“Hey dingus, why are we the only ones carrying shit?” Robin called out as she stepped out the doors of the small apartment, spotting you juggling a new box while Steve lingered at the back of the truck.

“I need my rest Robin, if Rosy’s shit wasn’t so heavy” he called back and you shot him a quick glare which made him laugh softly.

“You’re an idiot” Robin mumbled as you handed her the box in your arms and picked up a new one.

“What the hell Steve! Why are the girls the only one’s carrying your shit?” Dustin called out, exiting the home as well and you and Robin quickly erupt in giggles as Steve groans out.

“I don’t have a box in my arms for two seconds and I get harassed. What the hell is this?” Steve says mostly to himself, jumping up into the truck much easier than you did and you watch as he goes for one of the small boxes.

“Uh-uh mister. You’re bringing that one in” you say, nodding your head to the trophy box and Steve rolls his eyes before doing what he was told.

“God you’re so whipped” Robin snorts before starting back for the apartment ready to unload the boxes as fast as she can.

“I’m not whipped!” he called out quickly in defense but Dustin just laughed and grabbed a box for himself.

“It’s okay Stevie, you’re allowed to be whipped. I definitely am for you” you tell him sweetly and he grins, the oddly large trophy box now in his arms.

“I love you” he hums out, leaning and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping out of the truck. Your heart flutters due to the sentiment, never getting tired of the words he finally spoke a year and a half ago. Well actually wrote but ever since then he told you every chance he got and you loved it every time.

It had been over three years since you met Steve Harrington and you were pretty sure you’d never get tired of him. He came to you when you needed him most and you did the same for him. Since that day you hadn’t spent a day apart and making this decision, deciding to live together, after years of working and saving money, you had no regrets at all. This was it, he was your soulmate and this was only the beginning of a lifetime of years ahead. Small apartment or not, he was yours and that alone was a breath of relief.

“Need an invitation?” Robin called to you from the small house and you just chuckled before grabbing your things and making your way to the house. A house that would probably hold you and Steve for another few years, be your shelter from the storm, and despite its empty walls and bare floors, you couldn’t wait to make it a home.

It’s dusk by the time all the boxes are unloaded into your home and Robin and Dustin are long gone. Just looking at the mess you know you’re too tired to face it until tomorrow, so you make do with what you have. You make quick work of making a bed of the mattress on the floor, saving the frame building for tomorrow. When it looks decent enough to sleep on you make your way out of your room to find Steve. Much to your surprise he’s in the living room, boxes now cleared off the coffee table, and take out from the local diner on the table.

“I made dinner” he grins at you, sitting on the ground as he pours you a glass of wine in a mug. You giggle at the thought of it being the only thing he could find and join him on the floor.

“What’s this for?” you curiously ask, taking the mug from his hand and smiling at the food and candle he had set up.

“This is to taking our time. The last few years have felt like a race to the finish line and we finally made it” he says, recalling all the long hours and savings account expenses. Had it not been for the alternator going in Steve’s BMW you would’ve been here much sooner but at least you were here.

“Cheers to that” you say, clinking the mug against his own before taking a sip. Steve just smiles and looks to the simple plate of food. He loved that you both could live your lives so nonchalant, spend your nights living a luxurious lifestyle even if it’s just a small apartment.

“The money comes, the money goes, but we finally made it baby” he tells you and you quickly kiss him before grabbing the wrapped burger that your stomach grumbles for. Not realizing how hungry you were after a whole day of moving.

His words wash a sense of comfort over you. Knowing now you could spend your days a bit more relaxed, eat dinner in silk robes and light lamps for atmosphere. Even if the apartment was a passing phase in the start of the rest of your life you were both going long. Hanging hopes on chandeliers while gaining weight and sleeping in late. You had loved those days before living together but it was time to change your ways and love these new days. The days meant for just the two of you before something more comes along, something bigger.

“Did your parents say when they’re selling the house?” you ask around a bite of your burger, trying to get a better read on him and how he feels.

“By the end of the month, Dad says if I need anything to get it by then” he mutters, heart clenching over the fact. He hated that empty house, despised it, but these last few years it wasn’t really empty.

“I’m sorry honey” you tell him, wiping your face with a napkin and he shrugs.

“It’s okay, I was meant to move out sometime. Just wish it was still somewhat mine, you know? They were never there so much it sorta always felt like it did. Then when I started spending time with the kids and you there, I guess I just always imagined I’d stay there, raise my kids, teach em how to swim in the pool and how to ride their bike in the driveway. Make it more of a home then it ever was to me” Steve explains, eyes cast over the table and lost in a memory that hadn’t happened yet. Your heart instantly softens to the boy, hand reaching out to settle in his own just like you did when you first met.

“I’m sorry Stevie, but just think about how we can make those memories in our own home. A home we’ll grow old in and our kids can visit whenever and bring their kids with them” you tell him and Steve can’t help the small grin that cracks along his face at the sentiment.

“Is this you saying it’s you and I forever Rosy?” he inquires, devious eyes glimmering into your own and you laugh, cheeks flushing red.

“Well I’d say moving in together kinda deals the deal” you tell him and Steve grins before reaching over to grab your waist. Much to your surprise he lifts you effortlessly over and into his lap where his face nuzzles into your neck.

“Then it’s you and me forever, I promise” he tells you, warm breath tickling your skin. Now you both could indulge in things refined and hide your hearts from the harder times.

This marked the start of drowning your doubts in dry champagne and dreaming of your future. A future that if you dreamed hard enough could include real pearls, foreign cars, caviar and cabernet wine. Yet the real riches was a future with each other, a future that included kids and endless memories to be shared. You didn’t really care if you only ever lived in this apartment, the boy curled up next to you was the real dream.

“Another toast” you say, reaching for your mug and handing Steve his own. He follows right along, the bright red liquid sloshing up the side. This was something you wanted to say before the old versions of yourself end and the new ones begin.

“A toast to how it’s been and to all the new things we get to love. Including each other” you say and Steve happily clinks the mug against your own as you both tip back the sweet wine since Steve hated dry.

“I’ve loved these days and I’ll love the new ones too” Steve mutters into your neck and you smile and settle against him, finally relishing in the fact you were both sat in your shared living room. A space you and Steve could share while you got big wig jobs and engaged. A space designed for the both of you to grow as a couple who was meant to last forever.

“You think we’ll get tired of each other?” you voice your worries, knowing now that you shared such close quarters you were bound to find flaws within one another.

“Maybe but I’ll always love you more, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” he asks, voice a soft hum into the late night of the barren home. You had a lot of work ahead of you but at this very moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I guess so” you smile, a softness twisting in your gut at how in love you are with this man beside you.

“Wait! I have an idea!” Steve suddenly says, sliding you delicately off his lap and to the ground. He’s up in a second, eyeing the labels of each of the boxes in search of something you’re not sure of. You watch with curiosity, waiting to see what the boy could possibly be up to now.

“Ah-ha!” he lets out once he finds what his looking for, large hands pulling back the folded cardboard pieces and digging inside. It’s when the familiar flash of silver is revealed you realize he’s in search of his boombox.

Finding the outlet Steve makes work of prepping the stereo for some mood music. It’s no surprise when the familiar flash of a Billy Joel album is pulled from the bottom of the box. He grumbled only slightly when he realized he needs to rewind the tape, smashing the button with an annoyed scowl. Yet when the tape finally spins back to the beginning, a grin covers his lips instead, as a familiar song starts to fill the room. Say Goodbye to Hollywood, the classic beginning of Billy’s 1976 album Turnstiles. A true testament to his talent, and one of Steve’s favorites.

“Dance with me?” he asks, hand held down to you on the ground and you don’t even hesitate to clasp your own with his, allowing him to lift you up and into his arms before spinning you around the room.

“Tell me something good?” you ask him, heart thumping softly against his own as you both sway around the living room, the barren walls soon to hold a lifetime of memories.

“The first time I heard this song I was spending the night at my Grandparents. I was nine and we were all in the kitchen making cookies. I remember my Grandma smelling like fresh flowers and the way my Grandpas laugh made you feel safe. Turnstiles had just come out, Billy’s latest album and Grandpa knew I hadn’t heard it yet. So he played the vinyl while I frosted cookies and this song began to play. Now every time I hear it I’m back in that kitchen just happy to have two people who really loved me” Steve says, a soft sadness cast over his eyes and you can’t stop yourself from pulling him close and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“I really would’ve liked to meet them” you whisper, hand curling at the back of his neck and fingers grazing the small tufts of hair there. He smiles and gives a soft squeeze to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“They would’ve loved you. My Grandpa would point out how smart you are, tease me about it too. Ask how I got a girl like you to date a doofus like me. And my Grandma, she would bake you pies and insist on sewing all your clothes when they got old and worn. Talk about how much she wished she had a granddaughter” Steve says like he knows and it’s because he does. They were the two people in his life who always made him feel safe and he knew them better than anyone. It sucked they weren’t here but knowing how much they would’ve loved you is comfort enough.

“I see them in you. In the way you take care of the kids and in the way you love me” you say and the look he gives you is different than any look you have ever received. Your heart accelerates just at the sight and before you can even process it the boy is kissing you like his life depends on it.

“I’m going to love these days too” he suddenly says, pulling back from the kiss a little breathless. A small laugh escapes your lips as he hugs you close.

“Yeah, well I count on having many of them”

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billthedrake · 4 months ago

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TRAINING THE SALES GUY (PART SIX)

Previous chapters here: https://www.gaydemon.com/stories/Training_the_Sales_Guy_42206.html

I was supposed to be the one training my co-worker Carson, but the next business trip was more the other way around.

"The Dream Team is back," he said when I showed up at the gate area of the airport. Carson always got there early, and I always cut it close. He looked like a million bucks, in his slim-cut suit and neatly trimmed hair cut and beard. I knew things were just a sex-buddy dynamic between us, and that we were coworkers first. And Carson Wells had a bro-ish personality that was good in small doses but got on my nerves sometimes. But if the dude was gay I'd probably be getting more than a little crushed out on him.

"You probably say that to the other account execs," I teased as I took a sip of coffee.

Maybe that was a pissy thing to say and Carson would read some jealousy into it. But he just smiled back and laughed. "I forgot how cranky you are in the morning, Boss."

Those baby blues and that flirty disposition was making me wonder how good I was at maintaining my defenses and boundaries.

"It's why I'm single, Wells." I figured some self-deprecating humor would help.

"I doubt that," he said with surprising sincerity. "You just got off your game, Boss. When was the last time you went on a date?"

Maybe Carson had an ulterior motive for asking. A way of saying that nothing romantic or permanent was going to develop between us. But his tone was natural, on the level. I realized that he probably talks this way to his bro buddies in the office, and this was his way of including me in that work-friend category.

I sat down next to him. "About two months ago. When was your last date, Wells?"

He flashed his pearly white smile. "Had two last week, Boss. Different chicks.... it's a lot of effort, but I enjoy the hunt, you know?"

"I get that," I said. I'd been like that when I was in my 20s. But after the divorce, I'd had fun with more casual sex but found the process of using apps a fucking chore.

As we drifted into small talk, and then lined up to board the flight, a deep part of me hoped Carson wasn't so successful at his dating that he'd cut me off entirely. Then another part of me hoped for that very thing.

****

We were all business that day. Carson was particularly focused on our presentation. He was normally in the zone on our sales calls, but that day he was nervous I could tell. It was a huge prospective client, and it would mean a fat commission for Wells. It was getting to him.

I pulled him aside during a quick break an hour and a half in. "Relax, buddy," I said. "We got this."

I could see the tension in his handsome face. "Yeah?" Not believing me but appreciative of my forced confidence.

I shrugged. "It's a like a date. You can't want her too much, or it's all fucked up."

Hell, I didn't know how straight guys dated, but the advice seemed to work. "Yeah," he said.

We did good but not great. It might not matter, depending on what the company wanted. I wasn't going to sweat it. We'd come in and done our part. The rest was out of our hands.

And Carson was back in fine form over the dinner. We'd taken a number of the contacts out to a nice steak restaurant, and Wells was in classic sales guy mode. Chatty but not too chatty, able to engage with everyone at the table, comfortable in mixing business with pleasure.

And he was in a good mood after, as we got back to our hotel.

"Wanna come to my room, Boss?" he asked.

I wasn't expecting this. It had been a long day. And if it had been anyone other than Carson I might have even begged off getting my cock sucked.

"Sounds great, Wells," I said.

We wheeled our luggage to the elevator, and I think we both had smirks on our faces as we rode up.

"I guess we're getting more comfortable with this," Carson said, speaking the very thought I was thinking.

I nodded. "If you ever don't feel comfortable, Carson, please let me know." I'd gone too far in this affair to be safe from HR consequences, but at least I wanted to give Carson an out any time he felt like it.

He laughed. I expected him to make a crack about uptight Bill, but instead he said, "It's crazy. I knew I liked sucking dick, but you got me into the other stuff, Boss... I even watch the videos you sent."

Indeed I'd discovered a new Pornhub guy with a very minimal gag reflex and no inhibitions about working the one he had.

I was getting turned on, surprisingly by Carson's candor as much as anything. "Well it's really hot to experience your skills," I said, my voice almost cracking into a whisper.

The elevator dinged and we wheeled our bags down the hall. Carson tapped his key card and we entered.

"Um, Carson... can I ask you something?" I started. "What makes you like it?" I'd been afraid to ask. Afraid I'd spook this straight guy with a major bi streak.

He'd clearly been asking himself the same question. "I dunno, Boss... it's just... when you use my throat, it's like I'm not the one who needs dick, you're just feeding it to me."

I didn't quite follow. "You afraid of being gay, Carson?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I'm not gay, thought maybe you don't believe me."

"I believe you," I replied. "But it doesn't matter if I do."

He took that in. "Yeah. I guess having a cock in my mouth always feels like the last thing I should be doing, and the taboo of it gets me off."

"The forbidden fruit thing is hot for me too," I said.

Carson's blue eyes twinkled in amusement. "Fuck yeah it is, Boss." He pulled out his phone and wallet and set them on the table. "I think the fact you're a fag..." he stopped himself. "Sorry boss... but I think that when your cock is in my mouth and it takes me to this fucked up place."

I didn't know what to make of it. But I was getting head from Carson more than I ever dreamed of, so I decided not to get pissed off. "Please don't get therapy, Carson," I joked. "At least not anytime soon."

That made the guy laugh. He's so fucking sexy when he laughs. "Don't worry, Boss."

With that he knelt down in front of me. I was already hard and Carson's touch at my crotch made me harder. He teased and massaged my ridge in my suit pants, then pulled my zipper down.

"OK if we start with some old-fashioned head?" he asked.

"Yeah," I croaked. "More than OK." I'd been enjoying the more extreme throat training lately, but a standard Carson Wells BJ was always gonna get me off big.

He licked my dick up and down, before pulling back. "You mad at me for what I said?" he asked.

I nodded. "A little, yeah." I figured I should be honest. "But I'm not gonna stay mad at you, Carson. Just don't call me that again. You can think it or whatever."

"Yeah," he sighed. He was genuinely contrite. He seemed to be taking in my cock with his hungry eyes, examining my length and girth.

Then, slowly he opened his mouth and descended on me.

"Oh fuck!" I hissed. Carson's mouth felt great. I knew I'd spend the next day wondering if these blowjobs were keeping me from finding a boyfriend, even a casual one. Carson Wells had gone from top 5 in his oral skills to top cocksucker in my life experience, period. The best I'd ever have, I knew.

I looked down as he blew me. His hunky body in his navy suit, head bobbing up and down. I could hear the spit and the suction around my prick and the rhythmic soft moans from this throat. He was working himself deeper on my pole, working up to a deep throat. Not fast but steady, knowing what he was doing. He was getting me to that place, fast, that build up of pleasure, and then it was like his mouth and throat was gonna milk the load out of my balls.

Only he pulled off instantly and gripped the base of my prick, pinching it slightly. "Goddamn, you're worked up tonight, Boss."

"Jesus, Wells," I exclaimed.

My excitement made him smile. "See? Sometimes it's better not to have to go all hardcore and shit." He let go of my dong and started tonguing the bottom half of the shaft. With anyone else, it might look slutty, but I knew Carson was mostly trying to let me enjoy this without blowing too soon. It worked, sort of.

There was a clear excitement for him, too, as he looked up at me, hands on his trousers, gym-toned chest showing between the spread lapels of his coat. Unlike me, he wasn't wearing a tie but instead rocking that more millennial business-bro look. It suited him.

"Thanks for letting me initiate this, Boss," he said softly. "I don't know if I'd like it the other way."

In my head our affair wasn't one-way, but I knew what Carson meant. "You do a lot for me, Wells... I want you comfortable with it."

He nodded. He reached down and fiddled with his zipper and belt. Often he didn't like jerking, and I think he was shy of letting me see his dick. But Carson was pulling it out now and wrapping his fist around it just as he leaned back forward.

"MMMmmh," he moaned around my prick as he swallowed me. He'd gotten warmed up already so now was just a skilled, silky deep throating. Up and down, six, seven inches at a time. Almost bouncing. Carson was driving his blowjob but he was abusing his throat all on his own. Deep throating me, faster and faster, till he was spearing his gullet with rhythmic gutteral sounds.

"God yes," I hissed. Watching him do a sword swallowing thing like a pro.

I heard the gurgle of a gag on one down stroke then that familiar mucusy slickness on my meat, dripping out of Carson's mouth and onto my balls. That did it for me.

"Shit!" I muttered. And I was cumming down Wells' throat.

He slowed his mouth strokes just enough to be able to swallow my semen comfortably. And as he rode out the aftershocks of my orgasm, he stroked himself to completion.

Carson finally pulled back, a flush look of sexual satisfaction on his face, which must have matched mine.

"Thanks you, Wells.... you outdid yourself." I wanted to give him every compliment I could.

He smirked. "Yeah, I've been wanting to try that, Boss." He looked down at his hand. It was covered in his own jizz. Carson shoots a lot. He got up off his knees, holding his hand out to keep the dripping load from getting on his suit. I'd have to get mine cleaned, but it would be worth it.

He wiped off then offered me the Kleenex box. I used a couple to handle the spit and throat slime. There were some cum dribbles too but Carson took care of most of those. I tucked back in and sighed.

"We good, Wells?" I asked.

His green eyes met mine. "Yeah, we're good."

I wanted to kiss him bad. But that wasn't in the cards. So I grabbed my luggage and gave Carson one last nod before walking out of his room and over to mine.

As I got ready for bed, I thought over the evening. Sometimes I had real misgivings about fooling around with my straight-ish coworker. But that night I had none. The sex was hot as hell.

****

"You up?" came the text bright and early the next morning.

I was up, but barely. It was pretty early. "Yes. Still on East Coast time."

"Can I come by?"

My morning wood throbbed. "Sure."

Fuck, this was too easy. Wells was going to make me look forward to business travel all right.

I wasn't decent when he showed up a minute later. But that didn't matter. Carson had on only a pair of gym shorts and athletic shirt. The shorts didn't hide a thick boner.

"Hey," he said, morning voice making him sound deeper.

I ushered him in. "Hey," I laughed. It was a little absurd how carried away we were getting. But Carson's body was looking really fucking good in those clothes.

"I was jerking off and I thought the hair of the dog might be in order."

I smiled. I was now self conscious that Carson noticed the boner in my underwear. "I'm surprised I have anything left in the tanks after last night. You drained me, buddy."

Wells had a slightly nervous look on his face now. "You not up for it?" he asked.

"I'm very up for it," I replied.

I took the initiative and peeled down my briefs. By now Wells had seen my cock a lot but I wasn't sure how often I was completely naked.

The man's eyes were pretty much on my dick though, till he took them away and looked back up at me. "You OK if we try something new, Boss?"

"After last night... you can try out as much as you want," I said.

He grinned and peeled off his shirt. I'd never have a body that could compete with his, but that was OK. "I've been watching some videos. I guess they give me ideas."

My heart was pounding now. I wasn't expecting a two-fer on this trip. So it was a nice surprise. Particularly as Carson slid down his gym shorts. He was hard and I could see his dick still was covered in a lot of lube. I wondered how long the guy had been jerking off that morning.

My own bone twitched as I watched my coworker lie down on his back, settling in on the unmade bed, till his head lay just past the edge. I didn't need a diagram to know what he had in mind. I stepped up, hands on my hips and positioned my cock above his face.

Wasting no time, Carson leaned up, attacking my nuts with his tongue before I angled my prick to let him lick that. As he did, he jerked his cock, not fast, just enough to prime the pump during this foreplay ritual.

"Fuck, Boss, you have a great cock," he hissed. Hearing that was enough to make me spurt some precum on his chin and neck. Carson could tasted it was he licked his way to the head.

I swiveled my hips back to give him access. That tongue laved all around my head, slobbering it down. Carson wasn't shy about extra spit with me now and excess saliva dripped down his face.

"God fucking damn, Wells," I hissed as I watched the lewd sight.

He muttered something then more spit ran out just before he swallowed me.

The trick of being an oral top, particularly for the more extreme sucking, is knowing when you can take charge. Carson was ready. I reached down and pressed against his shoulder. To steady him but also to let him know I was coming in.

Wells grunted along my cock but was ready. I steadily speared his throat, from the inner part to the deeper reaches. He quickly stopped jerking and I realized it was to keep from coming. Wells was loving this shit.

I pulled back and thrust in again. And again. Wells' throat was snug and wet and alive. I don't know why we hadn't done this before, but we were doing it now.

I heard his soft grunts and felt his excitement as I steadily fucked his throat. Taking my hands off his shoulder, I leaned forward. That meant I couldn't watch his face and throat as easily, but the better thrusting angle made it worth while.

I just went for it. Not super rough, but steady firm thrusts deep into Carson's gullet in rapid succession. Figured I could stir the pot and see if I could get some nice slime.

It took a half minute, a half minute of watching Carson's dick jerk in excitement before I heard and felt it.

I stopped and withdrew. To give Wells a break and check in on him, but also to see that trophy. That milky mucus was thick around my bone but I didn't realize just how much there was until I pulled out completely and watched thick river of slime run down his handsome face.

"Fuck!" he gasped, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.

"You OK, Wells?" I asked.

He was beet red and not opening his eyes but he grunted a yes. "Go for it, Boss."

I got back in place. Entry was easier this time. And as I fucked his face I heard the sloppy wet sloshing.

"Gonna cum..." I said.

That was the cue. He grabbed his own dick and jerked in rapid strokes.

We came together. My dick pumping its morning load straight into his guts as his own fired out. Like I say, Carson's a gusher, and I enjoyed watching several streaks of thick cum land on his muscular body.

I knew I had to give him a break now, and fast. I wasn't rough, but quickly I pulled out.

He sucked in some air while I went to get a washcloth for him. He seemed grateful for it and as he sat up he wiped his face down.

"Damn, Boss, you're hardcore."

I nodded. "I got news for you Wells, you're pretty hardcore yourself."

He finished wiping off and I took the cloth from him. It was only then that we felt self conscious being fully naked with one another.

Carson looked at the clock. "Well, I'm not getting my morning workout in, I guess," he said, acknowledging the time. We had about a half hour before we had to leave to the airport. "But fuck I was horny."

I gave a nod and watched Carson find his clothes.

"You're getting really good at this, Carson," I said. Not just complimenting him, but acknowledging that he was taking the throat abuse like a pro.

He pulled on his T shirt and flashed a grin. "I am, aren't I?"

"You doing anyone else?" I asked. I don't know why I did, but curiosity got the best of me.

He seemed offended though. "Would it bother you if I did?" he asked.

I shook my head and gave the best contrite expression I could. "Not at all. You're your own man, Wells. Just curious was all."

That seemed to put him at ease, but his voice was still quiet. "You're the only dude I suck, Boss."

"Cool," I said. I gave a pause. "I know this arrangement is weird as fuck, Wells. But anytime you offer head, I'm not gonna turn you down."

He liked that. "You'll find a boyfriend to focus on, Boss," he said. He'd bene thinking about that. "In the meantime, let's just have fun, OK?"

Dude actually fist bumped me on the way out of my hotel room.

***

Carson upgraded on the flight back, while I stayed in coach. I was glad not to have to make small talk. Still, I felt a strange elation when I got the news on my work phone as we landed. The decision was fast. We'd won the prospect as a client.

Carson was waiting for me at the gate in the terminal. "The Dream Team did it!" he growled, pulling me into a bear hug.

I hugged him back. "You're buying me drinks with that commission money, Wells."

#drakestories

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yarameijer · 4 months ago

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Hello it’s me again 🤭

It’s literally 4am for me right now and I was trying to sleep since I have to be up early tomorrow. But like, I can’t sleep without overthinking something, when I thought of this.

I for one absolutely hated how Shindou and Tsurugi didn’t help Tenma with Inazuma Japan, but instead made his life harder by not being willing to at least trying to adapt to what’s happening since it’s out of their control.

And who knows, maybe tenma doesn’t see the issue and doesn’t think there’s anything to forgive, Tenma is after all, a sweetheart.

But I’d like to think that he did see the issue and that he does hold some kind of resentment towards them because of it.

I’d also like to think that he does confront them about it at some point after they’re Back from space and everything calmed down a bit.

I mean, I for one would definitely talk to my friends and make them promise me to support me and have my back if something like that happened again if I was in his position.

So what do you think? Did tenma ever confront them about it? And if so how did they react?

By the way, I love your work and sense of humor and your take on the characters. Good luck with uni!!

Well, to answer simply: yes.

I've been working for quite a while on a one-shot set in the AR universe, one that's part of a larger arc (I posted another part of it before) focusing specifically on this topic, and I think you'd enjoy a preview of it.

Now, important to note is that this is written from Tsurugi's perspective rather than Tenma's, and Tenma has been bottling up a lot of things for a long time. He will likely seem very OOC here because of this - but it will (hopefully) not be as odd once the entire arc is published!

——— Accidental Reverse: Limits I

Kyousuke has never seen Tenma and Shindou like this.

He’d thought it was the worst it would get at the start of the Grand Celesta Galaxy, when they could barely have a conversation without one of them stepping on the other’s toes.

He was wrong.

‘’This isn’t working, Tenma,’’ Shindou moves with a purpose as he follows behind the young captain, his features twisted into a frown. ‘’And I think you know it too.’’

And that’s- that’s what stands out, to Kyousuke. Because this is how they've handled all team-related issues ever since Tenma became captain, it's no different from how it has been for nearly half a year now and yet he’s never seen his two friends behave like this. It seems that the only thing they can do lately is get on each other’s nerves.

What happened to their instinctive teamwork?

It’s Tenma, this time. He’s refusing to look at his strategist, eyes downcast and arms crossed as if he’s shielding himself from something. In response to the words, he just gives a half-hearted shrug.

Kyousuke winces when he sees Shindou’s eyes narrow.

‘’You could answer me, you know.’’

It’s as if he’s watching a movie with the script right in front of him; Kyousuke can see the exact moment where it goes wrong, and it’s with a quiet resignation that he takes note of Tenma’s eyes flashing. The brunet looks ready to speak in his own defense, but then his face falls. He stays silent.

And that, too, has become familiar in a way that leaves a bitter taste in Kyousuke’s mouth.

When has Tenma started feeling like he can’t talk to them?

(Kyousuke doesn't know.

He knows when he first noticed it, though - that odd phone call, all those months ago.)

They’re interrupted by the door sliding open, all three of them looking up at the new arrivals. It’s Kirino, Nishiki and Sangoku, the former two looking relieved when they spot the trio. ‘’There you are!’’ Nishiki says. ‘’We’ve been looking all over for you.’’

It’s no wonder they couldn’t find them. When Tenma stormed off the field, he didn’t go to any of the usual spots like the clubroom, instead navigating through the hallways of the soccer building until they found him in the guest team changing room.

As if he didn’t want to be found.

The thought leaves a sour taste in Kyousuke's mouth.

‘’What’s going on here?’’ Sangoku asks, expression sharp and voice sharper. He’s watching them carefully, taking in Shindou’s obvious frustration and Tenma’s odd hesitance, the younger brunet having turned away from the rest of the room.

When it becomes clear the captain won’t answer, Shindou lets out a sigh. ‘’We were talking about the new training regime for after the holidays,’’ he says, casting a glance at Tenma. At least the strategist seems to have cooled down a bit with the arrival of the others. ‘’Trying to, at least.’’

‘’Shindou-san,’’ Kyousuke interjects sharply.

The game maker sets his jaw and truthfully, at this point, part of Kyousuke could cry. Why are they all so stubborn? It’s one of Raimon’s best qualities as a team, but not if they’re fighting with each other.

‘’I’m only telling it how it is,’’ Shindou retorts, daring Kyousuke to go against him again. ‘’I can’t have a conversation with someone who refuses to even look at me.’’

What really strikes Kyousuke is that the game maker doesn’t sound mad. He sounds frustrated, sure, but it doesn’t seem to be about the training regime – honestly, the striker doubts Shindou even really cares about that.

They both know Tenma.

And it’s clear as day that something is upsetting him.

But getting Tenma to talk about his problems is like pulling teeth; he shuts down and refuses to say a word, covering it up with a smile and a clever distraction instead. And if it’s already driving Kyousuke crazy, he can’t think of how it must be for Shindou.

Because Shindou is Tenma’s go-to person whenever he needs advice, or support, or even just a hug. The two of them have always had their own subtle way of communicating that’s become a bit of a running joke in the team – it always fills them with fond amusement, to see the two brunets who used to disagree simply by being in the same room back when the team first started out, now only needing to glance at each other to know what they have in mind. It’s a great addition during matches, and outside of that it’s just kind of cute to see Tenma following their strategist around like a lost puppy and Shindou trying not to show how much he really depends on the younger’s general cheerfulness.

And now Tenma’s refusing to talk to Shindou.

Because Shindou is the problem, and the strategist is smart enough to realize it too.

‘’I think we all need a break,’’ Kirino interferes, shooting his best friend an encouraging smile. ‘’We don’t have any matches anymore until January, so maybe we should take it easy with training and do something fun.’’ He looks around, trying to find some support.

Nishiki’s nodding along. ‘’Sounds good to me, we’ve been at it for a while already. Let’s go get ramen!’’

For a long minute, Shindou doesn’t back down. He’s silent, gaze flitting between Kirino, Nishiki and Tenma, thinking it over before he finally nods. ‘’Alright. Sounds fun.’’ He doesn’t sound excited at all but that doesn’t matter; at least the situation is defused for now.

Maybe it really is that simple. The winter holidays are just around the corner, and from the moment Earth Eleven returned from space their normal school lives continued. The Winter Road is starting soon as well and they’ve been both training for that and having friendly matches with other teams each week, so maybe it really is just the case of the two brunets needing some time to relax and wind down. They’d been discussing a new training regime for the Winter Road when this disagreement started, after all.

‘’Is everyone coming?’’ Shindou asks, correctly assuming Kirino already planned for this earlier.

‘’Yup, no more practice for today. Coach Endou already agreed to it.’’

And that could’ve been the end of it, would’ve been the end of it – because the tension in Shindou’s expression is fading and Sangoku is starting to smile, and even Tenma, still turned away from them all, seems to slump in relief – if Shindou didn’t say, ‘’let’s hope we’re all more rational about this tomorrow.’’

Admittedly, it’s a poor attempt at a joke and the game maker knows it too, smiling sheepishly.

As it is, no one is prepared for the soft sound that escapes their captain.

Kyousuke doesn’t care about the alarm clear in his voice when he asks, ‘’Tenma?’’ because he can’t see his best friend’s face from here and that sounded suspiciously like he’s about to cry.

He’s seen Tenma cry maybe twice before, but it’s never fun when it happens. He thinks it’s because the brunet doesn’t want to bother them with it, and it leaves him all the more worried, because when it happens it means Tenma’s truly at his limit.

The senpai have frozen, just as taken aback by the sudden change as the forward. Shindou has taken half a step forward, reacting physically before his mind really catches up, but unsure of how to continue now. ‘’Tenma?’’ he asks, and that’s what sets him off.

Tenma whips around at breakneck speed, eyes red but dry. He looks furious. ‘’If all you’re going to do is question my judgement, why did you choose me to be captain?’’ he snaps, words directed at Shindou, but his misery is betrayed by his wavering voice. ‘’I can’t do anything right in your eyes anymore!’’

‘’I-‘’ the older brunet stares at him, lost for words for a few seconds. ‘’Pardon?’’

Kyousuke would flinch if he wasn’t still so stunned by Tenma’s sudden outburst – Shindou resorting to formal language with any of them is never a good sign.

‘’All you’ve been doing is telling me how I’m wrong! Well, I’m sorry for not living up to your standards!’’

‘’Matsukaze Tenma!’’ Sangoku snaps. ‘’You don’t talk to your elders like that!’’

And never, never has Tenma raised his voice against Sangoku – he respects the keeper, possibly more than he respects anyone else on the team, but right now he doesn’t seem to care at all. ‘’But he does get to talk to me like this?’’ he retorts sharply, shoulders drawn so tight it seems physically uncomfortable. ‘’How is that fair!’’

‘’Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,’’ Shindou suddenly interferes, having found his voice again, and Tenma crosses his arms as he looks away, refusing to meet the strategist’s gaze. At that, Kyousuke really does flinch, and for good reason – because it takes their elder friend a mere second to break out of his shock and lash out. ‘’So now you’re going back to ignoring me? Real mature, Matsukaze.’’

Kyousuke has always been thankful for their former captain’s sharp tongue. This might be the first time he’s anything but.

Why did their smartest member also need to possess such a short fuse?

From the corner of his eye, he sees Nishiki wince, and Kirino roll his eyes – and then sees their expression fall into shock, no doubt mirroring his own, as Tenma suddenly gives a humorless laugh.

‘’You want to talk about maturity, Shindou-san?’’ grey eyes are ablaze with both fury and hurt, the brunet gripping his arms so tightly his tanned skin is drained of blood. None of them have ever heard such venom in his voice before. ‘’At least I don’t bully others because of a childish grudge! Grow up already, senpai.’’

For a second, Shindou’s face falls, although his expression hardens again immediately afterwards.

Instead of the angry shout from before, this time he sounds clipped and cold as he says, ‘’I don’t think I’m the one here who needs to grow up. Why do you think I question your judgement when you behave like this?’’ It seems like he wants to add more, but Kirino’s hand on his arm stops him. The defender mutely shakes his head when angry brown eyes find his own, and after a moment, Shindou sighs.

Kyousuke barely notices that, though. His attention is trained on Tenma, mind racing with questions.

It’s why he sees how Tenma angrily averts his gaze from the interaction between his two senpai, why the young captain suddenly notices his attention. It’s why he sees him waver, for just a moment, before his shoulders draw up defensively again and his face hardens as he stares unwaveringly at the forward. A challenge, if he’d ever seen one.

Kyousuke doesn’t understand why.

And he’s always used his words sparingly, but that doesn’t mean he’s afraid to speak his mind. It’s why he dares to ask, ‘’What’s wrong with you?’’

He tried to make his voice sound a bit softer, because his intention wasn’t to attack – this is his best friend, his first friend, why would he ever want to hurt him? – but Yuuichi has always told him to practice his people skills and suddenly he understands why.

‘’Are you serious?’’ Tenma asks, and then he shakes his head and turns away without saying anything else.

The forward finds himself at a loss for words – just what has made the brunet so upset? And what do he and Shindou have to do with it? Because it’s becoming more and more obvious that Tenma isn’t only shutting their elder friend out.

He’s pushing Kyousuke away too.

‘’Tenma,’’ Sangoku says, and he sounds stern enough that it gets the captain to look at him. ‘’Shindou.’’ He crosses his arms and gives both brunets a sharp look. ‘’I don’t know what’s got the both of you so upset with each other, but you need to talk it out. It’s messing up the team, and,’’ he stresses the last word when he notices their captain averting his gaze again, ‘’it’s hurting you both. Don’t let your stubbornness ruin your friendship.’’

At least it seems Shindou is considering his words, however miffed he may still look.

But, again, it’s Tenma who is frowning, who is refusing to look at any of them. Instead he keeps his eyes trained on the floor and asks, ‘’May I be excused?’’ and despite his polite words, he sounds strained.

Sangoku shares a troubled look with Kirino and Nishiki, but then he sighs and gives the go-ahead. The next second, their young captain is brushing past them all and disappearing through the door, leaving them to stare at his retreating back.

For a few moments, silence falls between the remaining players, no one quite knowing what to say. Sure, Kyousuke has noticed signs of this weeks ago already – maybe even before that – but it’s never been this bad.

He huffs, and shakes his head. Leave it to Tenma to get inside his head like this, to get them all so wound up for some unknown reason.

And yet, even as Kyousuke and the others begin to make their way back to the clubroom, he can’t ignore the dread settling in the back of his throat.

No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can’t get the furious look on Tenma’s face out of his mind.

————

I hope you enjoyed it! It doesn't quite answer your questions, sorry for that, but this is only a sneak peek of a larger series of one-shots - titled ''Limits'' - that I will hopefully post one day soon! This is directly related to Tenma's interactions with Shindou (and in part Tsurugi) during Galaxy - and beyond that, to the very start of the anime.

Remember how Raimon wasn't exactly the greatest team in the first few episodes? Yeah, Tenma does too.

Which is interesting because he doesn't seem like the person to hold a grudge, instead bottling it all up - until he's pushed to the limit and, well, the above happens.

I know it's not a complete answer, but I hope you're satisfied with this!

#inazuma eleven go #inazuma eleven #ie11 #ina11 #ie go #ina11 go #inazuma 11 go #fanfic #accidental reverse #matsukaze tenma #tsurugi kyousuke #shindou takuto #raimon

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hey-its-roseaurum · 7 months ago

Text

Guilty until Proven Innocent-Part I

A/N: Hey everyone. Thank you for taking the time to look at this story. This is for a collaboration with @lainiespicewrites. She is an excellent writer and I figured it was my turn to stretch my writing muscles and put something out into the world. This is my first Henry Cavill fic, so please don't be too harsh. Anyways, enjoy!

Synopsis: After recent murders in town, You (Olivia) decide to train with Edith in the art of self-defense. In the middle of training, you got a mysterious knock on the door. Sherlock walks in, looking for assistance with his latest case. He offers you to partake in a partnership to help him in his latest case? Do you take it?

Warnings: mentions of death

“You’re progressing nicely Olivia.” Edith smiled from above me, her elbow pinning me to the floor mat. There wasn’t a hint of sweat along her forehead. She had taken me down in less than a minute. The worst part was I thought I was going to land a hit on her this time.

”I’m beginning to think that you’re just saying that to soothe my pride”. I rasped out. She had eased her hold on me and stood up, extending a hand.

”Nonsense. Look how far you’ve come since you first stepped in these doors. Pretty soon you’ll be able to hold your ground with me.” She exclaimed as I grabbed her hand and hoisted myself up. My back had long since started throbbing.

For the past few weeks, I have been meeting Edith at her office to train and learn self-defense. Ever since the first girl went missing and was later found dead in the street I hadn’t been able to sleep soundly. There were constant, nagging thoughts that made me question if I was going to be the next victim. It had only gotten worse when they found the next girl a week later in the middle of an alleyway that I frequently visited. Her throat had been cut.

In London, it was ill-advised for a woman, especially of noble birth, to consider something as trivial as self-defense. Women are supposed to be soft, elegant, and passive. All of the trouble and responsibility in making decisions was for the men.

Being passive and soft didn’t save those girls from their cruel end.

And I wasn’t going to let myself become like them. I refuse to be the next girl that falls victim to this. So I went to my dear friend Enola at her detective agency and inquired about a solution to my predicament. She sent me over to Edith and had me start training the next day. I’ve been training every day since then.

I’m still not really good at it.

”Did you say the same thing when you were teaching Enola?” I inquired as I dusted myself off. Edith only shook her head.

”Not exactly. Her response was more witty, thanks to her mother.” Eudoria Holmes, the mother, the fire starter as people liked to call her. I’ve seen her wanted poster splayed all across London. But I didn’t see her as a criminal. I saw her as the woman who saved my life six months ago.

That morning had been cold and bitter. I remember feeling my fingers grow numb while I huddled against a mailbox. Its red paint had chipped away at its base, leaving rust behind.

Which was ironic and poetic now that I think back on it. And let me explain why.

It all started when my father had recently passed from a sickness that left my mother and me penniless. With no man in the house and no money to our name, we were cast out of society. My mother and I were thrown out and the estate that I called my home. It was sold to another noble family in the south.

We lived off the street after that. My mother, using what knowledge she had of needlework, had acquired a job as an assisted seamstress. I was left to salvage whatever pity people gave me and half-rotten food from dumpsters.

Eventually, we were able to afford a small cottage on the outskirts of town. It was small, run-down, and often had a damp smell to it. Mother didn’t like to be there for a long period. She claimed it was because she was so busy with her duties to the seamstress that she didn’t have time to spend there. I think it was because she missed her life at the estate and living in this small broken cottage was too much for her to bear.

That morning six months ago I decided to go into town to fill my water bucket and get bread before it got too crowded. When I got there, I sat down by the mailbox to wait for the bakery to open. I was particularly annoyed when I saw a lot of people around this early in the morning.

I was watching a man get onto a carriage when something shifted from the corner of my eye. It had been a man, or what I thought was a man walking towards me with a package in their hand. When we made eye contact I didn’t think anything of it. I just watched them and noted how stiff they walked. They placed the package in the slot of the mailbox. Before I knew it, I was grabbed by the elbow, hoisted upright, and pulled away from the mailbox.

That mailbox exploded, releasing a whirlwind of fliers into the air.

The two of us had run from the police. I was forced to since they refused to let go of my hand. We ran until this stranger knew that they weren't being followed.

When things settled down, the man revealed that they were a woman in disguise. She introduced herself as Eudoria Holmes and then proceeded to lecture me about being near explosives as if she were my own mother. All I had wanted to do was bite back, to lecture her on how she shouldn’t be putting explosives where there were people.

Instead, I broke down, not from her lecturing but because of something I couldn’t quite place. All I knew was that I was waiting for a soggy piece of bread and nearly got blown up.

In the end, I told her everything. I told her my past, my current situation, and why I was even in town in the first place. One thing kind of led to another. The next thing I knew I was sitting in Eudoria’s house with a cup of tea in my hand.

I stayed in that damp cottage less and less as time passed and more at Eudoria’s warm, often chaotic home. That’s where I became friends with Enola, had briefly met her two brothers Sherlock and Mycroft, and felt somewhat happy.

I don’t know why she pulled me away from that mailbox. The one time I asked her she said she saw something in me, some sort of fire in my eye. She didn’t want it to go out along with the mailbox.

I didn’t believe her, but I couldn’t tell that to her.

“So what you’re trying to say is that I still have a long way to go,” I asked as my brain jumped back to the present. I stepped away from the mat and made my way into her office.

”What I’m saying is you’re doing better than you think you are. You just began learning. Give yourself a little credit.” Following me, she made her way to the table by the window. A stack of teacups were messily stacked up to one side. She grabbed two, placed them on saucers, and poured liquid into both.

“I know. I’m just…worried. It’s been a week since the last victim was found and the police still haven’t found the suspect.” I let out a sigh and sipped some of my tea. I needed a moment to choose my words carefully. “I just want to be…prepared.”

A heavy pause filled the air before either of us spoke.

”Olivia…there’s more to that, isn’t there?” Edith’s words were soft and gentle.

“I mean I-“. My response was sharply cut short.

A knock pulled our attention away from our conversation and to the door. A tall man entered from the training room and to Edith’s office. I couldn’t place if he looked tall because of his size, or because of the giant top hat sitting snugly on top of his head. Dark wavy strands of hair peaked through from under his hat.

”Have you any sense what time it is?” Edith interrogated, crossing her arms. The man took off his hat, revealing thick brown locks. His sculpted jawline and nose complimented the hair. Blue, mesmerizing eyes glanced around, investigating.

But the feature that I recognized right away from him was his shoulders. I knew those shoulders.

”Hello, Edith” His attention briefly shot to me “Olivia” I curtly nodded, averting my eyes.

”Good evening Mr. Holmes.” I responded softly. “With what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. One of Enola’s older brothers. One of the greatest detectives I’ve ever seen.

”There’s no need for formalities Olivia.” I felt something warm begin to grow on my cheeks at his response. He’s only being polite Olivia. We are only acquaintances because of Enola and Eudoria. He doesn’t like you like that.

Or does he?

I’m not sure.

Sherlock Holmes is a difficult man to understand.

“What are you here for Sherlock?” Edith asked again, harsher this time. Her tone quickly pulled me back to the present and away from my thoughts.

Sherlock cleared his throat, his blue eyes revealing some sort of inner turmoil within himself. It was an unusual amount of emotion that I was not used to seeing. I expected it with Mycroft, he practically wore his emotions on his face at all times. Sherlock never did. He’s always been composed, and proper. Before me now he still was, but a layer of some sort had been chipped away.

”I….need your help.” He struggled to say the words like it was almost painful to him. A moment of silence clung in the air.

”Is it about Enola? Did she get herself into trouble?” There was a hint of concern in Edith’s voice when she begged the questions. The only response he gave was a small shake of his head. I watched as realization flashed on her face.

”There’s something about this case-“.

”That deduction cannot solve?” Edith finished his thought. He slightly nodded, setting his hat down on her desk. That was my cue. I softly placed my teacup down and made my way to the table by the window. I began making some tea for Sherlock while listening to the conversation.

”I may need your…skills to get information from a place I cannot enter.”

“What kind of place?” He listed off a name that I didn’t recognize. Edith’s face slightly reddened.

”A showgirl theatre?! You cannot ask me such a thing Sherlock, no matter how close we are.” My eyebrows raised as I grabbed a cup and saucer and poured some tea into the cup.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t have another option. A woman’s life is at stake.” His tone was calm, but there was something else there.

”But going into this with the possibility of getting murdered is not something I’m comfortable with. Woman’s freedom and rights is one thing, going after a serial killer is a whole other matter entirely”

”Edith, I-“. I cut them off.

”I’ll do it. I’ll go instead of you.” In their arguing, I had made my way back to the two of them, Sherlock's tea in hand. I had left mine behind.

”Olivia, do you know what kind of place that is, what situations you can get into. You’re nowhere near ready to hold your ground”. What she said was like a punch to the gut.

I knew I wasn’t ready, we had that same conversation not thirty minutes ago. But I knew that if Edith went and something bad had happened to her Enola and Eudoria would be devastated. I was different. If I went and something happened to me, Edith would still be here training more girls like me.

”Who else is going to do it? Enola? She’s not expendable. I am. And Edith, what about the other girls you train?” I took a breath, the stubbornness in me growing. “Besides, I know these streets better than anyone. I’ve lived in them. I know where to go in case I’m being followed. And because of the way I look,”. I paused briefly looking down at myself, at my curvy, plump figure. “No one would suspect me. They would just see me as a showgirl trying to make ends meet. I can blend in, go undercover, and get the information that he needs in order to catch this murderer.”

A heavy pause hung between the three of us.

I let what I said sink into the two of them. I know that Edith is fighting with herself on whether she can let me go. She believes that I am her responsibility, and I kind of was while Eudoria was undercover. But since starting to learn to defend myself I told myself that I couldn’t sit and wait. Sitting and worrying about who the next victim is going to drive me crazy. If I can help and make a difference, then maybe the suspect will be caught before there’s more tragedy.

”I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to her.” Sherlock’s voice broke the silence and my inner thoughts. “You have my word.” His eyes met mine at his. I felt something else there besides the promise. Edith sighed, rubbing her temples with both her index fingers.

“Okay, Sherlock. Just…make sure she comes back in one piece.” Edith finally concurred. “You’re going to have to speak to your mother if you don’t.”

A smile tugged at my lips at the agreement. I finally raised the cup of tea, offering it to him.

”When do we start?”

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

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. If you want to read @lainiespicewrites story about Paul Atreides from the Dune Sage, here is her link: https://www.tumblr.com/lainiespicewrites/747032352877903872/the-atreides-era?source=share

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