#she's just so good and absolutely carried me for the length of time I've had her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

The Younger Kind Part 41 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley really does have to work late, you spend a fun evening with Noah, but Bradley starts to realize all the ways his life is holding yours back when you go out with friends. Then as soon as you let Bradley see you in your formal dress, he wants to take it off of you. In fact, it'll be a miracle if the two of you make it through the retirement party at all.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, spitting, butt plug, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Your phone screen lit up with a call from Bradley just as you shoved the last bite of your sandwich into your mouth while you were typing up a patient's chart. "Hello?" you managed while you chewed.

"Baby, I'm going to be late today. For real," he said, sounding a bit cautious. "Here, talk to Nat. You're on speaker."

"Hi," came his best friend's voice as you finally swallowed. "He's stupid and annoying, but he's not lying. We're staying late with the new mechanical crew to learn about an update."

"I'm assuming you're calling to make sure I can pick Noah up?" you asked as you smiled. It almost made you feel good that Bradley was being so cautious this time around.

"Yeah. Can you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Okay, perfect. I know I've been asking a lot of you," he said, his voice soft and deep. "But I trust you with everything. And I'll make it up to you."

Now you were smirking as you looked around to be sure none of your coworkers were around. "Are you going to make it up to me in our bed or in the shower, Daddy?"

He made a strangled noise and you heard Nat shriek in the background. "Baby, I said you were on speaker," he whispered. "Well, now you're not."

You had to stifle your laughter as you said, "I need to go. I'll get Noah from daycare. And then I'll try my pretty dress on for you if you're good, Daddy."

"Fuck," he muttered. "Yeah, I'll be good. I'll be so good."

You had to squeeze your thighs together at the prospect of making him beg. The retirement party for Admiral Bates was just a few days away, but you hadn't let Bradley see you in the purple dress yet. For the past few days, ever since you told him what Casey said to you, Bradley had been letting you hold all the cards. When he came home from work that day and told you that Casey shouldn't be a problem for you anymore, you gasped. He told you what he'd said to her, and then you gave him a blowjob.

"I'll see you at home later tonight," you told him softly. "In my pretty Princess dress."

"I can't wait."

"Oh, and don't forget I have happy hour with my work friends on Thursday."

"I'll make absolutely certain I leave work on time on Thursday," he promised.

When you made it to the preschool to pick Noah up, you smiled at Casey. "Oh, hi. I'm here for Noah," you told her, annunciating each word like she was very stupid. She rolled her eyes and handed you the clipboard as you asked, "No bakery box today?"

She didn't acknowledge you or say a single word as she walked to the classroom door and went inside. You filled out the sheet on the clipboard, smiling as you saw Bradley's signature from earlier this morning. Then Noah came streaking out toward you. "Can we take Skittles on a hike?" he asked as he ran into your arms.

"Of course," you told him, kissing his soft curls as you practically threw the clipboard at Casey and led Noah outside. "Daddy will be home late, so we can do whatever we want."

His face lit up as you buckled him in his car seat. "Can we get ice cream?"

You pretended to consider your answer before saying, "Of course we can get ice cream!"

You drove home with the windows down and the kid friendly playlist on. When you stopped at a traffic light, you turned around to sing along with Noah. And when you parked your car in the driveway, you carried him inside while you sang the dinosaur song together.

"I love you so much," you told him as he wrapped his arms around your neck. You unlocked the front door and went right to the crate in the kitchen. Skittles was looking up at the two of you with the biggest, sappiest brown eyes you'd ever seen. Well, other than the ones the Bradshaw boys frequently gave you.

Noah squirmed out of your arms and went to open the crate door just the way you showed him how. He was so gentle with the little pup, and she whimpered and whined until she was able to lick Noah's hands and face. "Come on, Skittles," you called as you opened the back door. She limped her way across the kitchen floor, and you had to force yourself not to pick her up since she was supposed to be moving around on her own. It was bad enough that Bradley carried her around all the time. She looked at you, and you bent to ruffle her purple bow before she wandered outside to the grass.

"Should we go get ice cream first and then eat dinner after that?" you asked Noah with a smile.

"Yeah! We can pretend it's opposite day!"

"Great idea."

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

When Bradley got home, he was irritated. The mechanics took forever to get everything in order so he could sign off and leave for the day. The downside of being responsible for his jet was that he was really responsible for every little detail. When he let himself inside, he could hear the bath water running and laughter coming from the bathroom.

He poked his head inside to find you kneeling on the floor next to the tub while Noah played, and you were both giggling. Skittles perked up and ran for Bradley, and then Noah saw him too. "Daddy!"

You whipped your head around to face him with a bright smile on your gorgeous face. "Hi, Daddy. You'll never guess what today is."

"Tell me," he said as he walked in still wearing his flight suit and boots, scooping Skittles up in one hand. He knelt on the mat next to you with a soft groan and then buried his face against your neck with a little nip. "I'm dying to know," he whispered as he kissed your ear. Then he reached for Noah and kissed his wet cheek as you turned the water off.

"It's opposite day!" Noah exclaimed. "The water is dry, and I don't like dinosaurs," he said before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"Opposite day?" Bradley asked, pretending to need help with the concept while Skittles licked his face. "Can I have another example?"

"We had ice cream before dinner!"

"Noah," you scolded playfully. "You weren't supposed to tell him that!" You eyed Bradley sheepishly. "We did end up eating dinner... just after dessert."

He kissed your cheek. "You're the best Mommy ever. You make everything fun."

"Were you good today?" you asked softly while Noah claimed all of his rubber duckies were sinking when they were clearly floating.

"So good," he promised. The way you bit your lip reminded Bradley that it had been a few days since you and he had sex. He thought maybe you were ovulating, but it didn't really matter. He needed to do a better job of keeping you full regardless.

Things had just been a bit hectic, and the tiny dog in his hand was evidence of that. If you got pregnant, things would get even wilder around here, but he didn't mind it. He actually craved it at times. And when he reminded himself that he finally had a teammate in you, things always felt manageable.

"I have an idea," he said as you washed Noah's hair. "After this, I'll get Noah in bed and let Skittles out one more time, and then you can take your time getting ready while I get a shower."

You nodded. "Did you hear that, Noah? It's time to wake up instead of go to bed."

He laughed again. "Will you read me a good morning story?" he asked Bradley.

"Absolutely, Bub," he replied. "I mean... no, I won't? Opposite day is confusing."

When he got Noah to change into pajamas under the guise that he was really getting dressed for daycare, Bradley heard you get into the shower. Once Noah was tucked in, he took Skittles outside. The bedroom door was closed, so you must be in there putting on your purple dress for the retirement party. He couldn't wait to see it.

Bradley got in the shower and took his time, but he was yawning almost nonstop. He needed to get it together so he could fuck you if that's what you wanted. He'd made a lot of promises about that kind of thing, and he didn't want his age to start catching up with him. "Shit," he mumbled as he toweled his hair off before wrapping it around his waist.

But he shouldn't have worried. As soon as he walked into his bedroom, Bradley stopped short. You were bending and petting Skittles in her little dog bed, but you really did look like a princess.

"You're wearing your crown," he rasped, and you stood to your full height and turned to look at him. "Jesus." The purple dress was indeed two pieces, and the top was beaded and very tastefully showcased your tits. Then the skirt was some sort of sheer flowy materials in a million layers, and Bradley wanted to run his hands all over it. But not as much as he wanted to run his fingers along the strip of your skin that showed just above your belly button.

"You like it?" you asked, twirling for him as you brought one hand up to hold your paper crown on your head. "You paid for it," you said with a laugh.

The fabric of the skirt swung around your body and moved with you. Bradley was entranced. "Yeah, I like it," he whispered. "Everyone else at the retirement party is going to like it too." Maybe a little too much, but there was nothing to be done about it now. And Nat was right when she'd said you would look incredible next to him in his dress white. "Fuck."

"Daddy," you gasped, looking up at him as his towel fell away from his waist. He was half erect, and he hadn't even touched you. All he had to do was look at you or smell you, and he was ready to go.

You were standing very close, but you didn't let your hands meet his body, and you seemed too perfect right now for him to touch you without permission. Just like actual royalty. "Princess," he whispered as you licked your lips. "Will you let me pull that pretty skirt up and fuck you?"

In response, you brought your hands up to your hips and jutted your chin in the air. "That was very lewd, Daddy." He grunted as the fabric of your skirt brushed along the head of his cock. He could smell your body wash as you ran your hands up to your top and over your breasts. He could practically taste your pussy as his mouth watered. "You better start begging."

Your gaze followed him as he slowly dropped to his knees in front of you and buried his face in your skirt. He kissed the soft layers as he asked, "Please, Baby? I'll do anything you want. Just let me have your pussy. Please."

You brought your fingers up to stroke his cheek and run your thumb across his lips. "You can do better than that."

His cock was throbbing now. "Anything you want. I'll get you off just right. You know I will. I'll worship you." He kissed the soft skin just below your beaded top with the gentlest touch of his lips, and you moaned his name.

Bradley kissed and nuzzled his nose against you, whispering please over and over again before you finally said, "Stand up." He was on his feet immediately, cock at attention and cheeks warm. "Don't mess up my dress," you told him, running your fingertips along his abs as you walked over to the bed. You bent at the waist with your arms and cheek pressed to the soft bedding. You looked so innocent and perfect with your teeth digging into your glossy lip, but you sounded dirty as hell when you said, "Come fuck me, Daddy."

Bradley growled as he reached for your hips through all the layers of your pretty skirt. He forced himself to go slow, pushing the fabric up inch by inch and savoring the way it felt in his hands. Eventually your perfect thighs gave way to your wet pussy, but then Bradley's head tipped back as the most ridiculous noise escaped his lips.

"Baby," he moaned, rubbing his cock all over your ass and through your wet warmth as you gasped and grabbed at the bedding. You were wearing your purple plug and puckering around it beautifully. So needy, the way you were grinding forward against the edge of the bed. "This is fucking gorgeous," he crooned, gently pushing on the base of the plug and giving you more pressure.

You rolled your hips back against his hand and raised up on your tiptoes. He knew you wanted your pussy full as well as your ass, and he was going to give you his cock and his cum. Eventually. But first he knelt behind you as you whined, and he pinned your hips in place. "Bradley," you gasped, trying to fight the hold he had on you, but he wouldn't allow it. With your voluminous skirt pushed up to your waist, Bradley kissed you from behind and swiped his tongue through your wet folds.

"Oh," you gasped loudly, trying to thrust back to meet him.

"Shh," he warned, pressing your plug with his nose. "I'll fuck you just right, but I want you to cum on my mustache first."

It took almost no time, not with how sensitive you were. He debated edging you until you squirted for him, but he figured it was better to ruin the dress after the retirement party. So Bradley ate your pussy like the meal it was until you were on the verge of tears. Every long stripe of his tongue had your legs shaking a little harder. He just wanted a little more before he let you come. So he licked up to your plug and spit, watching his saliva drip back down to your pussy as he finally let you have a little pressure on your clit with his middle finger.

"Daddy!" you nearly screamed as he rubbed you with steady circles. Your hips jerked as you got his mustache even wetter, crying out against the bedding. But Bradley didn't stop the motion with his middle finger. He kept going as he stood and smiled at your face buried between your fisted hands.

"That's a good girl. Keep nice and quiet."

He fucked you, bending over your body and gently kissing your back as he rammed himself deep a few times. You felt somehow even fucking tighter when you were wearing the plug, and Bradley made sure he pressed it deeper as he railed you.

When he kissed your shoulder, your pussy clenched around him. He wasn't even sure if you were still on your first orgasm or if you'd started to come again, but either way, he felt like your knight right now. When you turned your head to take a deep breath, your crown rolled off, and Bradley watched you look back at him as he fucked into you and bottomed out.

"Am I allowed to come, too?" he grunted, leaning in and licking at your glossy lips.

"Yes," you whispered, kissing his tongue before he stood at his full height, grabbed you by your hips and thrusted and unloaded.

Bradley ran one hand up along your beaded top, stroking your bare skin when he came across it. He listened as you hummed and laughed softly while he looked at your purple outfit, your purple plug, and your purple crown on the bed. He'd never had anything so bright in his life before you.

"Don't mess up my dress," you reminded him, and Bradley just stood there with his cock still inside you and his hands full of fabric.

"Well, what do you suggest I do back here, Princess?" he asked as you giggled and reached your hands back to hold some of the fabric. You bunched it up higher as you slowly stood, and then Bradley could feel the cool beads of your top against his abs and chest.

"I think it's safe," you whispered. Bradley withdrew himself, and with a grin, he dropped to his knees behind you. He watched his cum drip down your inner thighs, and when you tried to press your legs together he told you no.

He shoved his hand between your thighs and whispered, "No, it's too pretty," as his semen dripped right from your pussy to his palm. "God, it's so fucking pretty." He kissed along the backs of your legs and the base of your plug, but he didn't move his hand until his palm was coated.

When he stood again, he whispered, "I'll go get a wet washcloth so I can help you get undressed." But before he could leave the room, you met his eyes and raised his hand to your lips to kiss his cum covered palm and swiped your tongue through it. "Oh, shit," he groaned, watching as you cleaned him up. "How's that taste?"

"Mmm," you hummed, licking your lips. "Good. Like me and you."

His mouth was on yours immediately, needing to taste it for himself as he wrapped his still wet hand around the back of your neck. His tongue met yours, and he tasted himself there along with the sweetness of your pussy. "God damn, Baby. I hope I can keep up with you."

You nodded as he pressed some soft kisses to your lips. "You always do."

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

On Thursday, you were getting ready for happy hour with your coworkers when Bradley walked into the bedroom. "You look pretty," he said as you applied some of your lip gloss. You smiled at him in the mirror, and he walked a little closer. There was something about you this week that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he had the urge to fuck you nearly nonstop.

"Thanks, Daddy," you sang as he rubbed his hand along your lower back.

"Hey," he whispered, letting his lips meet your ear. "You think we have time for a quickie?"

You knew. You must have known by the way you were smiling. He literally couldn't keep his hands off you. "You just like calling me your little cream donut," you replied, but you didn't say no.

"I really do," he said, reaching for your jeans zipper, but you took his hand in yours and pulled it away.

"We don't have time," you scolded, kissing his lips and lacing your fingers with his. "You need to get Noah in the car so you boys can drop me off."

"Who's driving you home again?" Bradley asked, needing to be sure you wouldn't get in the car with anyone who'd been drinking.

"Sarah," you told him, cupping his cheek gently. "She's seven months pregnant. The hardest thing she'll be drinking is ginger ale."

"Alright," he agreed, letting you finish up as he put Noah in the Bronco. Then he drove you and dropped you off at a trendy looking bar in the Gaslamp Quarter which was filled with people your own age.

"Looks like a bunch of hipsters," he mumbled as he parked in the loading zone at the curb. He could almost imagine Greyson and his idiot friends hanging out here, and he reached for your hand.

You laughed as he kissed your fingers. "Everyone under thirty looks like a hipster to you. And I mean that with love."

"You don't look like a hipster," he said, brow furrowed as he looked at your hand and briefly wondered why he hadn't taken the time to buy you a ring yet.

"I see them," you said, pointing out the window before you leaned in to peck his lips. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way home." Then you crawled halfway over the seat and kissed Noah who was already yawning. "Night, sweet Noah," you whispered before kissing Bradley one more time and hopping out.

He watched you wave to the group of other nurses he'd met briefly. All of them were around your age, and sure enough he saw Sarah with her pregnant belly. He looked at your elegant body; you looked so damn young, but you seemed older than twenty four. And you'd look just right with a belly like that. Bradley groaned and put the Bronco in drive when he saw a group of guys walk toward you and your coworkers as you were about to head inside the bar. You ignored them in favor of waving to Bradley, and he did you the service of waving back before he started driving home.

You trusted him, and he trusted you. That was all there was to it. He refused to let Casey try to upset you with her bullshit, and you wouldn't chat up random guys.

"I miss Mommy," Noah said as he yawned again.

It had literally been five minutes since you got out of the Bronco, but Bradley honestly said, "Me, too."

And he felt like an idiot after he let Noah eat the ants on logs you left for them. It was nights like this when he started to feel like he was holding you back. He still had engagement rings open on his phone internet tabs, and he knew you'd say yes when he asked. You and he had talked about forever. But these nights out would become almost nonexistent if you got pregnant and there were two kids to look after.

Noah whined for you at bedtime, and Bradley had to bribe him with extra books since he couldn't have another goodnight kiss from you. Luckily that kid was usually asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but once he was out, Bradley was left alone with his thoughts. He tried to watch TV and even attempted a nap on the couch until you got home. He ended up drinking a beer and holding Skittles on his lap as she licked at the condensation on the bottle.

"You are begrudgingly very fucking cute," he told the pup as she curled up on his thigh with her casted leg sticking out straight. He petted Skittles until she was sound asleep, her body rising and falling in a soothing rhythm. Bradley finished the beer as he tried not to think about you, which only made it worse. But he kept telling himself you wouldn't still be here right now if you didn't want to be. You'd stayed through Meredith and all of Bradley's bullshit, and you were still here now.

His phone vibrated with a text. My Princess: I'll be home soon!

Home. It was your home, too. You belonged here. So maybe he was supposed to miss you a little bit on nights like this. Perhaps it was normal to notice that your warmth was missing from the room.

He closed his eyes, about to doze off, when twenty minutes later, you came bursting through the front door. Skittles carefully jumped off his lap and ran to see you as you pulled your shoes off. You looked a little exasperated as you bent to pet the dog before heading his way.

"Did you have fun?" he asked, about to stand, but you headed right for his lap.

You groaned and settled in so you and he were chest to chest and you tangled your fingers up in his hair, your purple painted nails grazing his scalp. "Everyone my age is exhausting," you said before claiming his lips.

He rubbed his hands up your thighs and smiled against your lips as he asked, "You prefer the older crowd?"

You kissed the side of his neck and yawned before letting your cheek rest on his shoulder. "You know I do. I'm crazy about you and your checkbook and your inability to use a smartphone correctly."

"Well you came to the right place," he whispered. "I have all of the old man shit for you right here."

You giggled before kissing his neck again. "I love you."

Bradley wrapped his arms around you and held you close. This is where you belonged. "I love you, too. You want me to take you to bed?"

You yawned again and said, "I was thinking about you all night, you know? Dirty stuff."

"Dirty stuff?" he asked as you nodded.

"Mmhmm. You wanna fuck a baby into me?" you asked as your fingers loosened in his hair and your hand came to rest on his chest. "We could do that," you murmured, your lips moving along his neck. "If you want."

Bradley chuckled and held you a little tighter. As much as he loved fucking you, he loved taking care of you even more. "Let's go snuggle, Princess." He scooped you up and carried you to bed where you immediately fell asleep in his arms.

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

"This was not a good idea," Bradley murmured as he paced around his living room in his dress whites with his uniform hat in his hands. When he peeked out the front door, Amelia Benjamin was holding Skittles on a leash, and she and Noah were blowing bubbles. He checked the time and groaned. "Such a bad idea."

He could hear laughter coming from his bedroom, and he had to fight the urge to walk back down the hallway and knock on the door again. He knew what the response would be if he asked how much longer it was going to take before you and Nat were ready to go.

"You can't rush perfection," he mumbled to himself as he rolled his eyes and dropped back onto the couch. You already looked perfect all the time. And Nat always looked the same. So he didn't really get the point of the two of you spending the entirety of Saturday afternoon doing each other's hair and makeup just for Admiral Bates' retirement party. It was at the Botanic Garden; it would probably be so humid and crowded inside, everyone would look gross after an hour anyway.

"Jesus," he grunted when he heard two female voices laughing about mascara. He stood and walked to the kitchen, considering making himself another cup of coffee to help him stay awake all night while he rubbed elbows with his superiors, but then your voice sounded louder. He returned to the living room and waited.

"I think your hair looks perfect," you said as Nat walked in wearing a pretty black dress that hugged her figure. Bradley could appreciate that she seemed to have more makeup on than normal, because her eyes looked bigger and more playful than usual.

"You look nice," Bradley told her, but then his jaw dropped as you strolled in like you dressed up to impress every day. That purple dress. Fuck. He would always associate it with taking you from behind on the bed. But you looked incredible. "Holy shit, Baby."

"I know," you said with a grin as you spun into his arms. "Nat did my makeup." You kissed his lips, and Bradley didn't even care if that dark lipstick left a mark. Shit. He kind of wanted you to kiss him all over right now.

"Beautiful," he whispered, cupping your cheek in his palm. You looked the same as you always did, really, with just a little something extra to drive him crazy tonight.

"You look good, too," you said, running your fingers all over his service pins before taking his hat and plopping it down crooked on his head. He ran his hands down the back of your beaded top and pulled you snug against him. "We'll have a lot of fun with all of this later, Daddy."

Nat cleared her throat and clapped her hands. "Well, on that rather disturbing note, let's get going."

Bradley looked you up and down one more time, kind of wishing you and he didn't have to go to the event at all. But Amelia was already here to watch Noah and Skittles, and if he didn't get you and Nat into the Bronco soon, you would all be late.

"After you," Bradley said as he opened the front door for Nat to talk outside. When you tried to follow, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close again as you laughed. "Not you," he whispered. "You're mine, Baby. I want you with me all night, okay? No wandering off. You know how those Navy guys can be."

"Oh, I know," you replied as he ran his hand along that little strip of skin that showed above your skirt. "They can be very handsy."

"Mmm," he hummed as he looked down into your eyes. "So you'll stay with me?"

"Yeah. I'll stay with you."

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

Princess is going to look so pretty at the Botanic Gardens. Wonder if she'll end up with that skirt pulled up around her waist again. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 42

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

807 notes · View notes

dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 1 year ago

Text

When is it Enough?

This fic is a sequel (three-quel?) to To Be His Good Girl and The Breaking Point

Edit: I've removed my SPN kink Event bingo card, because I was reminded that Soldier Boy isn't part of SPN. 🤦‍♀️ The story hasn't changed at all.

Summary: Y/N wants to show Ben that she's sorry for her disobedience, but how far will her guilt take her?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Pretty filthy smut. BDSM. Dom/sub. Dom Ben (Soldier Boy). Sub Reader. Crying Reader. Lots of talk of punishments and discipline. Caning (breasts). Slight Bondage. Intense pain as pleasure dynamics. Oral (m receiving.) Rough Face Fucking (choking, gagging, retching [no vomiting], and loss of oxygen mentioned) Bathtub sex. Unprotected PinV sex. Light Fingering mentioned. Praise!kink. Sir!kink. Aftercare.

Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader

Word Count: 3,925

A/N: Okay, so "To Be His Good Girl" was supposed to be a one and done fic. However, I've had a few requests to carry on the story, and then I found the above bingo card, and I thought it fit into Ben and Y/N's story pretty well. So, I wrote "The Breaking Point" as a sequel and now this last part of the trilogy. Hope you enjoy, and I know this story won't be for everyone, so PLEASE heed the warnings. ❤️

The dividers used here are created by @silkholland

Y/N got up from Ben’s lap and got to her knees on the floor. He came to stand over her and cupped her cheek in his hand. She gazed up at him adoringly and he ran his thumb over her mouth before pushing it past her lips. Y/N swirled her tongue over the tip and then began sucking on it. She sucked hard and it made Ben groan.

“Since you spoke when it was forbidden, kitten, I’m going to find a way to put your mouth to better use.” Ben explained. “If you do a good enough job blowing me then I’ll refrain from further physical punishment for speaking out of turn.”

“Thank you, sir.” Y/N said, eyes shining.

Ben nodded. “Take out my cock, show me what you can do.”

Y/N unzipped him and reached inside his pants. She moaned as she pulled out his length, already semi-hard. She pushed it flat against his stomach and licked all the way up the vein that bulged along the underside of his cock. She let her spit coat him as she took him into her mouth. What she couldn’t fit in her mouth she pumped in her fist.

Slowly though, she worked him further and further into her mouth until she could feel him slide down her throat half an inch. She choked and pulled off of him, but quickly went back. She braced herself on his thighs as she tightened her lips around him and began bobbing up and down on his hard length.

She reached up and played with his balls while she bobbed, sucking her cheeks in to create an incredible suction.

Ben pushed his hand into her hair. “Fuck baby, yes. Just like that. So perfect.”

Y/N grabbed onto the praise and worked harder. She moved up and down on him even faster, letting him hit the back of her throat every time. She moaned at the delicious taste of his precum dripping into her mouth. Finally, she took him further down her throat, trying desperately not to gag.

When she went to pull off of him though, Ben held her head in place. “No, push further, just gag, don’t pull away. Take me all the way.”

Y/N nodded, and though her throat spasmed and she gagged over and over, choking around his girth, she let him push her face into his pelvic bone. She didn’t fight him even as her eyes watered and spit dribbled down her chin.

Finally he pulled out of her mouth and she took in raspy breaths, coughing hard.

“You’ve done beautifully, kitten.” Ben told her, tracing her lips with the tip of his cock and spreading precum across her mouth. “Now, I’m gonna use your mouth. I’m gonna fuck your face, and I want you to just drop your jaw and let me use you as I need.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, sir, use me.” She said, throat aching.

Ben gripped the sides of her head in his big hands, making it absolutely impossible for her to move. He slammed his hips forward over and over, pushing into her throat. Y/N was choking desperately, coughing harshly and gagging around him even while he persisted in fucking further and further down her throat, which then made her gag and choke some more.

But she took it all without complaint, without trying to pull away from him. Ben watched the tears streaming down her cheeks as he stuffed his cock into her esophagus, stretching it and making her throat bulge. He watched her sucking in oxygen through her nose and pressed her face harder against him, so she couldn’t.

He thought she might start panicking soon and push against him to let her go, but instead he felt her go slack. He pulled out quickly, worried for a moment that she’d passed out. But she was still very conscious, gazing up at him, even while she was coughing harshly and making retching noises.

She was simply doing exactly what he told her to do. She was letting him use her as he wanted, use her mouth and throat, fuck her face, even letting him make her pass out if he wanted. She was one hundred percent his, she trusted him completely to take care of her and she wouldn’t deny him anything.

Ben bent over to briefly kiss her lips. He rubbed his thumb over her mouth again, pushing the spit and come that clung to her lips back into her mouth.

“You are perfect, Y/N. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re my good girl. Even when you misbehave and I have to punish you, you’re still my good girl underneath. I won’t question that again.”

Tears gathered in Y/N’s eyes and Ben kissed her forehead. “Thank you, sir. I promise to always obey, and to take my punishments when I don’t.”

Ben chuckled at the oxymoron she’d just promised him. “Okay, baby. Then let’s finish this punishment so we can move on to me spoiling you.”

Y/N nodded as she bit her lip. “Yes, sir.”

Ben pulled her to her feet and then reached around to unclasp her bra, freeing her breasts. He tweaked her nipples and then tugged on them both, making Y/N gasp with pleasure.

He brought her to the end of the bed and tied her there, ankles and wrists tied to the bedposts. But for her wrists he used a decent length of rope, about two feet. After finishing, he explained why.

“Lean forward, let the rope hold you.” Y/N followed his directions and it left her body at a forward angle.

Ben reached forward and gave a small slap to the side of her dangling breast. “This way, I’ll only hit your tit with the cane, I won’t accidentally hit somewhere else on your torso.”

Y/N understood and tried to ignore the strain on her shoulders, and the way the rope dug into her wrists. Ben moved to the table again, putting away the belt and picking up a long, thin rod. He waved it back and forth a few times, and it made a wicked swishing sound as it cut through the air.

He came back to stand beside her and he smiled warmly at her. “Okay, kitten, this is it.” He tapped the cane lightly against the underside of her breast and even that stung slightly, like little sparks landing on her skin. “This is gonna be extremely painful. I just wanna remind you that you don’t have to take this part of the punishment. I won’t be mad if you want to stop here. You’ve been punished sufficiently for your brattiness this week, given what you were dealing with.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, I wanna take it all, everything you planned for me. I deserve it.” Her voice got small. “I threw hot coffee at you.”

Ben scoffed. “Not like you could hurt me with it.”

“That’s not the point.”

Ben sighed. “No, I suppose not.” He stepped back slightly so he had a better angle. “Okay, but this time, I don’t want you to stay quiet. You opened up and told me the truth, so now you’re free to make as much noise as you want. Scream if you want to.” He reached forward to tip her chin up. “Scream about ALL the pain you’re feeling.”

Y/N felt the knot in her stomach tighten. Yes, this was her chance to let it all out.

Ben lifted his arm high, but held back most of his strength as he whipped the cane forward. It hardly made a sound as it connected with the soft flesh of her breasts, but it left an angry red line across the tops of both tits and Y/N cried out loudly.

“One.”

Again the cane swished through the air, landing quietly and drawing another red welt. “Two.” Ben counted as Y/N cried out again. But as she sucked in a breath she caught his eye.

“Please, Sir. I know you’re holding back. Please don’t feel you have to, I can take it.”

Ben shot her a look and her eyes were pleading. “I can take it.” She repeated.

“I know you can, kitten.” He exhaled sharply. “Okay then.”

He raised his arm again and brought the cane down with much more strength and it made a louder snapping sound as it connected with her flesh. Y/N screamed this time and there was an immediate raised white welt across the other two red lines.

“Three.”

Y/N sucked in deep breaths as fire licked across her skin. She saw Ben raise his arm again and started crying before the blow landed. The pain was indescribable, like someone was slicing through her skin with a burning razor.

“Four.”

Every subsequent stroke increased the pain tenfold. By the time Ben delivered the seventh stroke, she was crying so hard she was choking on her sobs. Her skin was criss-crossed with long red, blue, and purple-ish welts and ridged with raised white weals.

“Seven.”

Ben called out and then tossed the cane back onto the table. Y/N was shaking and shivering as he began to untie her wrists. She spoke through shuddery breaths as she shook her head. “Wh-what are y-you doing? I h-h-ave three more.”

Ben didn’t answer until she was completely untied and he had her in his arms. He carried her towards the bathroom. “No, you’re finished, sweetness.” He said softly, when Y/N started to protest, he interrupted her. “Hey, who’s in charge here? Who decides?”

Y/N snuggled further into him, still shaking slightly and taking gulping breaths. “You, sir.” She answered quietly.

Ben took her into the bathroom and laid her down in the massive tub, immediately filling it with warm water, and lavender oil. He stripped off his suit quickly and climbed in behind her so he could pull her back against him. He cupped the warm water and ran it onto her breasts over and over, letting the soft oil and warm water take away the sting and begin to heal her ravaged skin.

Reaching forward, below the surface of the water, Ben began to massage the oily water into the delicate, abused skin of her cunt. After a few minutes he slid one finger into her folds and found her clit. He swirled his finger around the little nub, making Y/N gasp and moan. He brought her orgasm on so slowly, so gently, that when she fell over the edge, she was surprised, and gripped tightly to his hand where it pleasured her.

As she came down, Ben leaned forward and turned her chin so he could kiss her deeply. He made her come three more times as he bathed her, soothing her and filling her with bliss. Then he whispered in her ear.

“I’m so hard for you, baby. Can you take me? If you’re too sore, I’ll just finish myself off later.”

But Y/N shook her head. “No, I’d like to feel you moving inside me.”

Without waiting, Ben lifted her slightly and sank her down onto his cock. Y/N gasped, her cunt was still sore, but she also moaned as he filled her completely. He swirled his fingers against her clit once more, and she came again, just as he groaned out his release.

After their breathing returned to normal, Ben lifted her up and drained the tub before turning on the shower and rinsing them off. Holding her in one arm, he gently cleansed her pussy where his cum leaked out of her.

Finally, he carried her back to their bedroom. He put an extra pillow on her vanity bench and sat her down there so he could dry her briskly before covering her in a thick, plush robe and carrying her to the bed. He fed her fruit and chocolate and made her drink lots of water, as he usually did after a discipline session, but he also made her take two painkillers.

She looked puzzled when he gave them to her. “I don’t usually take pills after punishments.”

“Yeah, well, you took a lot more pain than usual tonight, baby. Just take them, they’ll help.” He told her. She swallowed them without further argument and he tucked her in under the covers. He crawled in behind her, giving her bruised bottom plenty of space.

“Ben?” Y/N asked in a small voice. “Why did you stop?”

He pulled her hair away from her face and kissed across her jaw and then down the side of her neck. “Because,” he spoke against her skin, “you didn’t deserve the cane to begin with. And letting pain cleanse you is one thing, but you’d gone past that. You wanted to hurt because your father made you think you SHOULD hurt. Trust me, I know what it looks like when someone is sabotaging themselves because of pain their fathers left behind.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder at him. “What did your father do?”

Ben laughed without humor. “Oh, that’s too long of a story for tonight, sweetness.” Y/N opened her mouth, but Ben just kissed her. “Another time.” He promised as he broke the kiss. “For now kitten, sleep. And sleep well.”

Y/N sighed, contentment washing over her as Ben held her tighter. “Yes, sir. I will.” Her voice was slightly shy. “Because of you. Thank you, Ben.”

Ben hummed and took her hand in his, smiling. “Anytime. My perfect, good girl.”

Jensen: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Any/All: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

#soldier boy smut #spnkinkbingo #spnkinkevents #solder boy x reader #ben x reader #soldier boy fan fic #bd/sm kink #dom/sub

145 notes · View notes

psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

Note

4.5k?!?? darling, that is so, so incredible - sending you huge congratulations! you're such a wonderfully warm and kind presence here, and we thank you for the constant time, love and energy you devote to your amazing fics ❤️

i may be being greedy but you've had me by the throat for months, so - only if you're up for it, my sweet - maybe just a little something spicy with my bois dave and frankie? the prompt “Think you can handle that much?" really came out and slapped me across the face lmao, but please disregard if it's not feeling right.

forever loving you! congratulations again, angel!

THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE!!! It means so much that you say this, and I'm happy to indulge in any kind of frankie x reader x dave goodness because honestly, I've been thinking about them a lot lately ❤️ (I think I got carried away a bit with this one. this is def not a drabble anymore svfdd)

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

pairing: frankie morales x fem!reader x dave york

genre: smut, absolute filth, minors dni

word count: 2,4k (this is just filth y'all, start from finish. It's been a while since I wrote this long of a smut piece, the horny possessed me)

summary: you've been having a stressful time, Dave and Frankie provide an excellent way to comfort you.

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, mention of safe words, brattamer!dave, bratty!frankie & reader, double penetration, dirty talking, mlm dynamics, oral (giving), mild daddy kink, frankie has a big dick because why not, vaginal/anal fingering, bit of cum play, little bit emotion at the end, oh and reader doesn't understand Spanish

a/n: this can be seen as a part of the fic I wrote way before called wonderful tonight and this one does have very mild references to it (the nicknames mostly) but you can read this without reading that

𝑺𝑰𝑳'𝑺 4.5𝑲 𝑭𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑰 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 (open)

“Come on sweetheart, you can suck cock better than that—Can’t you?”

You have tears in your eyes. Frankie’s hand a constant presence at the back of your head, nails gently scratching your scalp. Your chin aches, spit, and precum dripping from the sides as you attempt to take more of him. Your nostrils flare, your eyes squeezed tight when you feel the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat.

Frankie moans at the way you gag around him, fingers sliding down to your neck, he squeezes.

“She’s doing just fine,” he says, the harsh snap of his words directed at Dave. “Her mouth is heaven on earth,”

“How can it be heaven when she can barely take it?”

A soft whine rattles your throat, your gaze flicking to meet his. He clicks his tongue and rubs your neck, shushing you. “You’re doing amazing, querida. Don’t mind him. He’s just jealous because he wants a taste for himself,”

“I’m trying to help,”

“Just sit there and enjoy the show,”

You hear Dave scoff, he had positioned himself right across from the bed where he has a side view of both you and Frankie. He has fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking himself leisurely, watching you both with a critical eye. He swipes his palm over the fat head of his cock, coating his length with precum.

Some childish part of you wants to turn and stick your tongue out at him, but despite your simmering annoyance, his words make you feel embarrassingly hot. Each time he opens his mouth, speaks to you in with that deep voice of his, you feel it resonating in your core.

Frankie’s words pull you out of your thoughts, “You take it so well, don’t stop. Please.”

And those words send a different kind of wave of pleasure over your worn-out body. You’re getting whiplash between the praise and the degradation. You’re starting to think that this has been their plan from the start. You have been stressed lately, not enjoying things like you used to. They must’ve noticed. Between the lovely dinner and now this, surely they had. Of course, they did. They were both observant as fuck, both a blessing and a curse.

Frankie’s moans become louder, the most sinful noises you ever heard. It’s loud, deep, and it prompts you to take more of him. A tear escapes your eye when the tip of his cock slides down your throat, you continually swallow, hallowing out your cheeks as you desperately try to suppress your gag reflex.

“Oh god baby, you’re going to make me come like that—” he trails off in Spanish, words quickly whispered into the air. He looks down at you with eager eyes and you answer him with a confused gaze. It takes him a moment to realize you didn’t understand him.

You hear soft steps approaching. A sound that is made deliberately to excite you more, which works. Dave grabs Frankie’s chin, lifting the other man’s gaze to meet his own. A whine slips from Frankie’s swollen lips, Drave grins, his next words directed at you.

“He wants you to use your tongue more sweetheart, swirl it around,”

You make a gurgled sound that is supposed to mean oh. Pulling your mouth up, you swirl your tongue, wrapping your lips tighter. Frankie’s groan echoes, lips parted wide as his eyes roll back with Dave still holding his chin up. Your pussy clenches, slick dripping down your thighs.

“Sweet boy,” Dave hums. “Where’s that attitude now, huh? Now, who was it that wanted a taste?”

You notice Dave’s hips thrusting into his fist, and your mouth waters. Distracted, you pull your mouth away, starting to adorn the side of Frankie’s cock with wet kisses. Dave’s smile widens into a grin when he notices Frankie’s eyes dropping to his lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he coos, fisting his cock faster. “Does my sweet boy want a kiss from daddy?”

“Can I have a kiss from daddy?” you chime in, lips brushing the tip of Frankie’s cock. You smile when you hear him whimper.

“Oh,” Dave answers, looking down at you but fingers still hooked under Frankie’s chin. “You’ll be receiving more than kisses as soon as daddy number two relents, princess.”

He chuckles at your pout, Frankie groans, cock twitching against your wet lips. Dave’s hand moves to the base of his cock and squeezes, a soft grunt escaping his throat.

“Think of it like this,” he continues. “The sooner he begs for release—and a kiss— the sooner you’ll have us both filling you up.”

Your gaze moves to Franke who is nowhere near gazing at you back. His focus is slowly fixated on Dave, his jaw tense and eyes narrowed. Without pulling away your gaze, you blow a puff of air across his cock and watch him wince, his chest heaves.

“Promise me first,” you say to Dave.

He grins, “Promise.”

You’re pretty sure you shock them both with the way you dive back in, tongue and mouth moving with fervor as you attempt to push Frankie to the brink of orgasm. His cock throbs heavily on your tongue, he bites back his mouth, teeth clenched tight together. Dave touches Frankie’s hand that was still nestled at the back of your head and pulls the pilot’s hand to his own cock. You moan around Frankie’s length when he starts to stroke Dave’s cock, his movements hesitant and a bit shaky. You like to think it’s because of you.

“Come on,” Dave teases, his jaw slack with the corner of his lips tilted up. “All you have to say is ‘please kiss me Dave’ and that’s all, and I will. Just say the words,”

“P-Please,” Frankie swallows, his cock twitching. You flatten your tongue, pressing it snugly underneath. His eyes momentarily drops to you and he swallows again, a loud gulp heard between the three bodies.

He mutters in Spanish again and Dave shakes his head, clicking his tongue with annoyance.

“English,” he warns. “She’s been working hard, she deserves to understand your begging,”

“Fine,” Frankie growls, voice raising. “Please kiss me, Dave.”

“Good boy,”

“Shut up.”

Dave lets out a huff but he’s smiling, “Such a sour loser,”

You start to stroke Frankie’s cock, the mixture of spit and precum providing a smooth glide. You watch the two with intrigue; Dave leans down, capturing Frankie’s lips in a heated kiss. Dave thrusts into Frankie’s still hand, soft groans filling the empty space in between. A fat bead of precum appears at the tip of Frankie’s cock, you swipe it almost immediately with your tongue.

Much to your surprise, Frankie is the one to part away first, a string of saliva still connecting them both. Dave’s lips are red and kiss swollen, it takes you everything not to pull him down, your lips left tingling. Frankie gestures towards you with a tilt of his head, Dave’s eyes following.

“I think our princess also deserves her reward,” Frankie smiles, he swipes a drop of Dave’s precum and brings it to your mouth. You wrap your lips around his finger hungrily, swirling your tongue around the digit. He purrs, “Always so eager to have us.”

“Please…” you beg, rubbing your legs together. “I’ve been good haven’t I?”

“You have been sweetheart,” Dave helps you up the bed, his wet lips chasing yours. “We’re going to take good care of you.”

Frankie positions himself underneath you while Dave pushes himself to sit on his heels right behind you. His hands follow the curve of your ass, pinching it playfully.

“Such a great view.”

Frankie cradles your face, thumbs moving in unison around your cheekbones. You spot the bullseye tattoo on his hand and give it a soft kiss. He smiles. Frankie knows where this is going and is always eager to provide comfort, even if it means denying himself.

“Think you can handle that much?" he chokes out, his voice cracking.

“Of course, she can,” Dave tuts. “She'll do ever what she can to make her daddies happy, isn't that right sweetheart?”

You nod, head falling into the warmth of Frankie’s neck. You feel his hands rubbing soothing lines up and down your back.

“Please,” you mutter into his skin.

Dave briefly leaves you both to get the lube that was left forgotten in the bathroom. Frankie takes this opportunity to kiss you, his lips moving lazily, licking the inside of your mouth. He slips two fingers into your fluttering cunt. He spreads his fingers, thrusting them to see if you can actually take him.

“Good,” he breathes into your mouth, staring at you with dilated pupils. “You’re so wet, bonita. Did you touch yourself with my dick in your mouth?”

You shake your head, which prompts him to suck a deep, sharp breath. “Fuck, that’s even hotter. You’re going to give me a heart attack,”

“No heart attacks!” Dave calls out, stepping into the room. “Not before we satisfy our lady.”

Frankie snorts, head falling back, “I wouldn’t have dreamed of it.”

You hear the squeeze of a bottle and soon after you feel Dave’s wet, cold, sticky fingers breach your asshole. You jerk away with your breath caught in your throat. Frankie’s lips brush your forehead.

“We don’t have to,” Dave says, his voice briefly returning to normal. “Color?”

“Green— I want to. I was just surprised by the cold,”

“It’ll be warm soon enough.”

The soft sound of Dave’s chuckle eases your rigid body, you feel your muscles relax with his touch. While Dave works you open —the feeling not completely unfamiliar but still foreign— Frankie distracts you by claiming your mouth again and again. He licks the seam of your lips, his hands squeezing every inch of you as he sucks your tongue into his mouth. The moans you make are obscene.

Soon you’re grinding yourself down on Frankie’s length, soaking him as you feel Dave curling his fingers, knuckle deep. You gasp away from Frankie, back arching beautifully. Your brain struggled to think of where to seek pleasure first, Frankie’s cock or Dave’s fingers. The uncertainty makes you cry out.

“Shhh, It’s okay. We got you,” Frankie soothes you. “I’m going to push in now, okay?”

You nod tearfully, crying out once more when you feel his cock pressing into you inch by inch. Dave’s fingers are still inside. Frankie whispers praise until sinks his cock fully into you. The air is punched from your lungs, your breathing uneven and heart beating fast.

“So warm,” he chokes out, nipping your chin. He stares at Dave from above your shoulder. “Is she good?”

“Very,” Dave replies with a smirk.

You hiss when the tip of Dave’s cock breaches the tight muscle, pushing in slowly, delicately. His blunt nails bite into your skin, his breathing coming out forced as he makes his way in. You feel the press of his lips on your spine, then to your nape. You shudder. Both of them combined overwhelm all your senses.

“I can feel you through her,” Dave grits out, cock throbbing. “God, so perfect, our perfect girl.”

You keen at the praise, your cunt squeezes around Frankie’s cock, a moan rips from his throat.

“I need to move, can I? Please—”

Frankie desperately nudges his face between your chin and neck, laying eager kisses all over your skin. You moan out your approval, both men twitching deep inside you.

Frankie, being edged for a while now, fucks into you with an indescribable need. He knows what he wants, and he wants it now. He bites wherever his lips can reach, he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, licks the inside of your mouth. Meanwhile, Dave takes his time, leisurely thrusting his hips, watching you both collectively tumble down the edge of pleasure.

The corners of your vision go dark and you close your eyes, the contrast of the two men burning you from the inside out. You cry out both of their names, completely surrendering yourself to them both. Franki snaps his hips upward, urging you to open your eyes. When you do you see him moaning with an open mouth, Dave’s hand tugging on his hair (when did that happen?) with a comforting smile you lean and press your mouth into the corner of his lips.

“I’m gonna come,” Frankie slurs, squeezing at your hips. “Oh fuck—Fuckfuckfuck—”

“Not yet,” Dave growls, his own movements losing their stability. “You two come together, ‘want to feel it,”

“Daveee,” you whine, your inside pulsing. “Can’t we just—”

“No,” he snaps as he grazes his nails down your back. “Together.”

Frankie looks up at you with wide, desperate eyes. He moans before he starts to beg, he knows what gets you going, he knows you can’t say no to him.

“Please baby, please please please—” he whispers frantically. “I’m so close. You feel me, don’t you? Feel the way my cock is throbbing? I need you to come too. Tell me you’re close. We don’t want to disappoint him,”

“N–No,” you answer, voice and thighs shaking. “I don’t want to disappoint him,”

“Are you close?”

“Yes.”

It all happens so fast. You feel Frankie spilling into you, your own orgasm crashing into you a second later. Dave’s moans echo behind you, slamming his hips into you as he chants both your names. You collapse into Frankie’s chest, breathing heavily, he continues to come. He kisses your head, cheeks, nose, and lastly lips. No hunger under the soft gesture, only love, and adoration.

Dave pulls out, fucking his fist over your ass while letting out lewd groans of his own. You tremble at the feeling of something warm splashing against your back, your ass raising into the air of its own accord. His fingers delve in, spreading himself over your skin.

“You two are ridiculously good,” he says. “God, I’m lucky,”

He’s sad. You hear it in his voice. Thankfully you’re not the only one because Frankie pulls him down, placing Dave in the middle of the two you. Frankie somehow manages to wrap his arms around you both.

“We’re the lucky ones,” you whisper into his skin. “You always take such good care of us.”

He lets out a content sigh.

Content for now, your mind nastily whispers. You ignore it.

You all carry a hint of sadness, that was what made these moments even more special.

Frankie’s lips find Dave’s forehead, and you, the top of his spine.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #frankie x reader x dave #dave york imagine #frankie catfish morales #dave york x female reader #triple frontier fan fiction #triple frontier fic #the equalizer 2 fic #4.5k baby #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

192 notes · View notes

wundergeek · 3 months ago

Text

New FFXIV fic: Research: the Most Fun a Catboy Can Have Without Taking off His Clothes

Length: 2 chapters, 8.5K words total Alisaie (trans) / G'raha (trans) / Warrior of Light (non-binary) (Eventual) very smutty smut As always: (1) I don't care what the devs say, Alisaie is absolutely not 16. By 5.3, she'd be about 23. (2) In a world where no one is explicitly gay or trans, that means anyone can be.

- - -

Alisaie shifted and looked down at her hands. "I had several classes with Raha at the Studium, but we were never anything other than friends there. At that point, he still thought his precious Allagans could do no wrong, and he spent all his time with a nose in a book while I was always skipping classes. Then, when we met again in the First, he'd been the Exarch too long, and he was so paranoid and secretive. Not to mention the way he was always manipulating everyone around him."

"He had to," I felt obliged to point out. "The stakes were too high."

"They were," Alisaie acknowledged, then took a deep breath. "But this new Raha..." Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head, obviously unsure how to finish the sentence.

"He's like a fusion," I offered. "With the best qualities of both of the previous versions."

"Yes!" Alisaie's eyes flashed with relief as she looked up to meet my gaze. "He's... he's experienced. Confident. Not so desperately, irritatingly eager to prove himself, because he's already done it! And being able to set down the Exarch's mantle has made him so much more open and... trusting. He believes in everyone, and trusts people to do what they're good at." She sighed and scrubbed a hand over her face. "Hells, I don't think I'm doing a good job of explaining it."

"Believe me, I get it," I said, putting my hand over one of hers. "The new G'raha is walking competence porn."

Completely caught off guard, Alisaie burst out into loud peals of cackling laughter. Finally, she was able to wrestle back some control and gave me a conspiratorial grin as she wiped her eyes. "So what would you think of maybe making our V into a triangle?"

I grinned. "It would make my life a lot easier, honestly. It's been a bit awkward trying to juggle separate one-on-one time with everything that's been going on." I paused and leaned forward as I lowered my voice. "And assuming he's on board with it, I'd love to see that pretty cock of yours in his mouth while I fuck him."

Alisaie actually blushed. "So how should I... you know. Talk to him?"

"Wow," I drawled, grinning teasingly. "Look at you not marching up to him and flat out demanding to get your mouth on his junk. You must have it really bad."

"Shut up, you," she growled, turning an even brighter shade of red.

I widened my eyes innocently. "I thought you were looking for advice?"

There was a loud thunk as Alisaie banged her forehead on the table. "I hate you. I hate you so much."

"Too bad. Guess I'll just keep him to myself then."

Alisaie lifted her head and glared at me in a way that promised I would absolutely pay for this later. "Fine. Please. Give me some advice."

I smirked. "Offer to help him do research."

It was a struggle not to laugh at the dismay on her face. "I hate research."

"So do I. And yet, my advice stands."

Alisaie scowled at me suspiciously.

"You'll get to impress him with how many books you can carry," I teased.

"You're holding out on me," Alisaie hissed, poking me hard in the shoulder. "What aren't you telling me?"

I leaned forward and held her gaze as I dropped my voice to a whisper. "He always gets horny when he's really onto some hot bit of research, and he claims that getting fucked helps him put the pieces together faster."

Alisaie's face lit up like a Starlight Tree. "Really," she breathed.

"Oh yeah," I whispered back. "It sounds wild, but several times now I've fucked him over his desk, and then he's filled an entire blackboard with notes. Clearly something about it works for him. So I help fetch and carry the books he needs, which saves him time, and I bring something to work on when he doesn't need me. After a few hours, he starts babbling about something it would take three Doctorates to follow, and that's usually about when he starts begging me to fuck him."

Alisaie's was practically salivating by the time I finished. "How do I get myself invited to one of these sessions?" she asked, enthralled.

Read the whole thing on AO3

#writing #creative writing #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #g'raha tia #g'raha/wol #alisaie leveilleur #trans smut #eventual smut #writing share

3 notes · View notes

shivunin · 1 year ago

Note

So I saw your tags on the types of love ask and I'm also obsessed with the first weeks and months after Fenris and Hawke break up lol!! I would love to hear more of your thoughts about what Maria and Fenris are feeling/thinking esp wrt fighting together, how the kirkwall group sees them, and just generally how they cope with not being "together" but still being around each other all the time.

Oooh anon, I tried to keep this a reasonable length and I failed haha. In my defense, I have 30k words of unfinished fic answering this very question and I pared it down as best I could.

So:

I think the immediate aftermath is, of course, the most painful--but it's also the most careful on her part. Analysis sets in for her pretty quickly about a day later, when her head is more clear: she loves him and she doesn't believe that loving him gives her a right to take his friends and home away. Hawke is very aware that she has the power to do this if she isn't careful.

What can she do about it? Give him space. Make sure he knows he's still welcome. Keep inviting him to things where many of her other friends are present. Never touch him unless she has no other choice, because she knows she'll give herself away. Look at him directly as little as possible (this one is for her own sake---watching him is like putting her thumb on a bruise to make sure it's still there). Be alone rarely, if ever, and if alone then at a great distance. No more walking home together; no more late nights reading in her library before the fire; no more long goodbyes at her door. She tries so hard to be careful with him and instead she is stiff and overly polite.

It hurts. For both of them. I've talked before about how friendship is the bedrock of their relationship to me, and for a while they lose that, too. Maria's fatal flaw is that she thinks she can perfectly read everyone around her. She assumes that the boundaries she's drawn are good for both of them and she never, ever asks Fenris what he thinks or wants---because that would mean talking about it.

Fighting is rough for a while, because one of them is now dedicated to not paying attention to the other. They both get hurt, badly, in the few weeks immediately after that night. Fenris occasionally slips and calls her Maria (he can't get it out of his head no matter how much he'd like to). Hawke occasionally slips and pats his shoulder or elbows him to make a joke before she remembers and pulls away again.

At last, they get in a really big argument over what Fenris says to Merrill during Mirror Image. Maria loses her temper (she usually keeps a very tight leash on it) and says some things she doesn't mean---the subtext being, if she is a monster then I am a monster. If you knew that before, then why did you ever pretend you wanted me? She does not say this explicitly, because I think she doesn't actually want to know the answer. She apologizes as best she can without actually acknowledging what happened, but now that is festering between them, too.

All of their friends definitely know what's going on. They had front-row seats to the budding flirtation, the tiny gestures of affection...and now they also get to see Hawke putting herself as far away from him as possible, Fenris's absolute refusal to discuss any of it, the pained way he looks at her when she isn't watching, and so on. How can they not know? I think Varric and Isabela try to discuss it with Maria, in their respective ways, and she laughs it off. I think Anders probably makes a pointed comment and she bats that away, too. (Actually, Aveline might be the only one who's still oblivious, judging by the dialogue in her Act 2 quest.)

She does eventually confide in Sebastian, because he's supposed to take confessions, isn't he? Surely this is not so bad a thing to carry, in comparison to everything else. In the end, all she really wants is her friend back and she doesn't know how to get back what they've lost. She blames herself far more than she blames Fenris (Hawke should be able to fix everything always, obviously). Before she can come to any conclusions about how to patch things up, Leandra dies and she really starts spiraling.

When she finally emerges from the big blank space immediately following the funeral, Hawke is erratic. She gets drunk and sloppy, she throws herself into fights she couldn't possibly win, and she stops being careful with Fenris.

(For the record--I think he prefers the minor arguments to Hawke being polite with him. Maria is polite with Meredith and Marethari and the Viscount and the Arishok. She is friendly or charming or crass with everyone else. Being on the receiving end of cordiality was far, far worse than anything she pulls while she's grieving.)

Again--it takes something big to knock her out of this spiral. Luckily, Kirkwall has no shortage of shitshows. Hawke faces down death, comes to terms with the fact that she's just going to have to be in unrequited love with Fenris forever, and acquires a new title, not necessarily in that order. Fenris watches her die, acknowledges privately that he would rather be with her than without her regardless of what they are to each other or what dangers they face, and is there with her when she needs him the most.

Some of those boundaries stick around--she doesn't look at him often or for too long, which he hates, and they don't spend much time alone together. But slowly, slowly, they rebuild their rapport. Hawke and Fenris respect each other deeply; I think that's what makes the rest of it possible. Love is one thing---messy and busy and too heavy by far---but respect is something they both understand, and it's a good enough foundation to build on. She does love him; if she could make it into a purely platonic love, she absolutely would. More importantly, Maria trusts him and he clearly feels the same. It takes time, but they get back much of what they lost.

I want to be clear: she never thinks of any of this as biding her time for him to realize he wants her; she knows that he never will. She also knows she has to be okay with that if they're going to be friends again, and that matters to her most of all. It would have broken her heart to lose him because she couldn't move on.

For Fenris's part--I don't know how much of his reaction is guilt and how much is being caught essentially flat-footed. I cannot imagine what it would be like to work up to wanting to be emotionally intimate with someone (physical intimacy entirely aside) and then have that comfort entirely ripped away because of something he feels solely responsible for.

So, anon, to answer your question:

They deal with it by letting what happened between them be the third party in the room, ultimately. They both know what happened; they know that talking about it by now is more likely to open up wounds than it is to heal them. What they have is immeasurably valuable to both of them. If he still dreams about holding her, if she measures every suitor at her door against Fenris, well---that's for them to handle alone. Nobody else needs to know.

#good lord this is long. i really saw no way to cut any of it #again: i have most of a whole-ass fic about this written currently #and i left out all of the really compelling bits to get here #long post #maria hawke #ask response #thanks for asking anon!! I appreciate your curiosity c:

14 notes · View notes

singofsolace · 2 years ago

Text

Thoughts on the end of "National Treasure: Edge of History" (*Spoilers*)

I'm pissed, so here's a rant while the emotions are still high (because I never learn my lesson about waiting until my emotions have settled before sharing my thoughts, and I'm not sure I ever will).

That ending was one of the most unsatisfying endings I've experienced in a long time. It's up there with the Ocean's 12 the-heist-already-happened-off-screen-and-the-one-you-saw-was-fake ending. But this one makes me even angrier, because I trusted that the big reveal of Billie Pearce's true motives was going to be something juicy and personal and complicated, but instead, it was... fascism? Racism? White supremacy?

I was hoping that the old white businessmen at the company, Cras est nostrum, were the fascists, while Billie was going to be revealed to be a sort of... double-crossing independent agent, or something? like she works for the bad guys, but is ultimately working for herself, you know? I held out hope that she was going to be an anti-hero, or at least not an outright villain, so the reveal that she's actually a fascist just... disgusts me.

There's no morally gray area of white supremacy, in my mind, and yet, CZJ made it sound like Billie wasn't all bad...? Was she confused? Or was she just trying not to let anyone figure out the ending before the last two episodes, and purposefully misled the audience while promoting the show? Because, I'm sorry, but her brother dying while pursuing the treasure doesn't outweigh her/their original motive to find it? And why on earth would anyone put their life on the line to destroy a treasure that most people assume doesn't even exist...?

It just isn't a good enough explanation for me as to why Billie was so passionate about the treasure hunt in the first place, if the ultimate goal was simply to destroy it? Like, what the actual fuck? The treasure would've stayed lost if Billie just... hadn't done anything? like, the "status quo" she was so keen to enforce would've been maintained if she simply removed herself from the hunt altogether, and didn't devote millions of her own dollars and resources to try to find it...?

Her motive makes absolutely no sense, considering her passion for history and characterization as someone who collects antiquities, but ensures she makes replicas of artifacts like Cortez's sword, so as to ensure the real one remains in a museum...? I just think it's incredibly confusing and/or lazy writing to undo all of her characterization up to this point, because if you ask even a couple questions about why a woman would go to these extreme lengths throughout the show, just to destroy the treasure, when doing nothing would be the smarter choice... the whole plot of the show just... falls apart?

And even if I were to ignore that, and say, yes, okay, fascism makes sense as the motivating factor for Billie here, and she is just a white supremacist who wants to destroy artifacts and erase Panamerican accomplishments/history... wouldn't it have been smarter to just kill Jess Valenzuela from the start, when she was getting too close to finding it, and then destroy the three relics as they were discovered, rather than collecting them? Nobody would've even found the treasure, if Billie had just destroyed the relics the moment they were found, which she had ample opportunity to do...?

And what's more is that she didn't even personally have to be on this hunt at all..? She had plenty of people working for her who could easily carry a bag of dynamite and blow the whole place up when they found it...? There's no point in solving any of the riddles at the location of the treasure, either, if you could just blow the whole place up...? like why did she personally have to be front and center in this treasure hunt, getting her hands dirty, committing crimes out in the open, and risking her life at every point, if she just wanted the treasure destroyed, and obviously didn't want the credit of having done so, because then she would be arrested? She's a billionaire; she can hire people to do all that dirty work for her! She could use a drone to search for and bomb the whole place! She could buy the marshland of the Devil's Swamp and either shoot anyone who trespasses on it, or just blow the whole place up while she sips her tea, safe and sound on her private jet!

My point is, without a motive to explain why Billie herself needs to find it, the entire fucking story falls apart...? And her brother dying along the way just isn't a good enough explanation to me, because destroying the treasure isn't something she's doing "for him"; she's doing it for "the status quo" and because, as Salazar so bluntly puts it: "tomorrow belongs to [white people] because yesterday belongs to [white people]."

It also doesn't make any sense that Salazar and Billie work for the same secret society, with the same goal, but are actively trying to hinder each other along the way? If both of them want to destroy the treasure, why do they have such an adversarial relationship from the start? Why do the businessmen worry that Salazar might get in Billie's way, when Salazar is literally the head of their secret organization? None of that makes any sense, unless they were planning a reveal that Billie and Salazar are actually on opposing sides...and then they just...decided not to go that direction...?

...and that's not even touching on the fact that Billie's brother worked so closely with Rafael, but then, when the writers needed a fake-out, Jess "disproves" the photo of them together with the whole "the buttons are on the wrong side of the shirt" clue. Shouldn't the photo have been authentic, since Billie was telling the truth about that part? And why wasn't Billie with them for that part of the treasure hunt when her brother died?

I'm just so pissed, because Billie's backstory and motives don't make any sense to me, and I was holding out hope that that was because the writers were smarter than me, and had it all planned out. It feels like a major betrayal to discover that that isn't the case. It's like the writers didn't think even a little bit about where the story was going to end up, and just kept throwing plot twists in, without keeping track of when Billie was meant to be telling the truth, and when she was meant to be lying.

To wrap this rant up, I just want to say that my issue isn't that Billie is an outright villain, when of course, the whole show is about her being a villain; I can get on board with antagonists having unjustifiable motives, and being horrible people. (CZJ played a German spy in Dad's Army and I loved it, being a case in point). What I can't get behind is nonsensical, incoherent, illogical writing that makes me throw my hands up at the end of a show and go: "what?!"

#national treasure: edge of history #national treasure spoilers #billie pearce #jess valenzuela #catherine zeta jones

19 notes · View notes

the-project-and-the-ghost · 2 years ago

Text

[HEARTBURST]

*after a bit of time passing and having recovered fully, mewtwo decides to meet the rest of the fam*

*he finds a rather attractive human woman cooking something... Must be something new since she's kinda fucking it up not gonna lie-*

????: God- fuck- i put too much... I'll just scoop out the rest, it's okay, not a big deal...

Mewtwo: uh hello?

????: Holy- helloooooo..? Whoever you are?? Who are you aaaaand... What are you??? I don't think i've ever seen anything about you anywhere.

Mewtwo: *sigh* Arceus give me strength- you're familiar with Mew, right?

????: Y-yeah???

Mewtwo: i'm like-... ughh god i hate even speaking of it- a clone? Something superior?

*the woman's gears are turning...*

*...and suddenly the light bulb is turned on*

????: Ohhhhh mewtwoooo okay i got it-

Mewtwo: goodness i hate that name-

*he gags at the mere mention of his name and anything related to it*

Mewtwo: uhhh what's your name, human? I'd like to meet everyone here and get familiar since i'm staying.

????: I'm...

*She thinks about it for a second... what is she hiding?*

Mary: i'm Mary, Mary Lavender, you?

*mewtwo is. Confused™, by her name...*

Mewtwo: are you really named "Mary Mary Lavender"???

Mary: no i'm- fucking hell- just Mary Lavender, nothing else! Fuck-

Mewtwo: language-

[THE POST CONTINUES WITH NO POTENTIALLY HARMFUL CONTENT BUT IT'S STILL UNDER THE CUT DUE TO IT'S LARGE AMOUNTS OF LENGTH]

Mary: anyway- who are you?

*mewtwo cringes at the thought of saying his name, it really brings up terrble, terrible, just horrible, terrible, terrible... horrible memories...*

Mewtwo: ... Hmmmm...

Mary: you don't like your name, huh?

Mewtwo: ughhh... Can you tell?

Mary: oof... If i had any ideas for a new name, i'd tell you, i'm sorry...

Mewtwo: it's alright, i'm kind of getting used to it anyway... Honestly i wish i didn't.

Mary: i'm sure you'll get the one you want soon, for now we'll call you bald snrk-

Mewtwo: Arceus that's worse- i have seen hairless Meowths in my life in the wilderness so NOOOOO THANK YOU.

Mary: yeah it's confirmed, we're calling you bald-

Mewtwo: NO.

*Mary laughs a bit, then focuses back on the cooking... Now i'd say "chore" because she was suffering trying to learn new recipes, but she actually managed to pull it off, slay queen*

Mary: oh shit i did it-

*someone steps through the backyard entrance door, carrying a basket full of fruits... GOD NO THEY DON'T HAVE A FARM IN THEIR BACKYARD, IT'D BE FUCKED BEYOND REPAIR BY THEIR PETS JESUS CHRIST*

???????: Hey everyone! I got all the fruits available!

Mewtwo: oop- holy-

*oh- OHHHHHHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOH LOOKIE HEREEEEE~!*

*a shiny gardevoir with green vitiligo has entered the stage with fruits, and lordy me would you look at that... There's a reason mewtwo fell for this chick*

Mary: oh my god Celeste these look awesome! Thank you so much for the fruits!

Adam: ah we estan rebuenos estos! (Oh wow these are so good!)

Mary: snrk- when fruits look so good you bust out full paldean-

Adam: Ey™

Celeste: And i have few that you might like to try, too!

Adam: TELL ME YOU GOT THOSE ONES, I LOVE THEM SO MUCH-

*while everyone's talking around there with each other, mewtwo over here is... OVERFLOWING with thoughts*

Mewtwo in his mind: (HOLY ARCEUS GOD HIMSELF SHE'S ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL WH-)

Mewtwo: goodness gracious- /////////

*Mary, Adam, and the shiny gardevoir with green vitiligo look at mewtwo in confusion... The gardevoir stares for a different reason obviously*

Adam: what? Yo Mewtwo you good??

Mewtwo: yes i'm fine, now if you excuse me i'm gonna need some time alone so i can recollect myself be right bACK- ////////

Adam: ah- wait- wait mewtwo? Mewtwo that room isn't... Finished.

*mewtwo quickly leaves and goes to the guest room...*

*Adam sighs in "WELP" and promptly gives up on life*

Adam: good thing he's a psychic type, cuz i don't think he'd like how it looks currently...

Celeste: Does anyone think that thing's hot?

Adam: say what now-

*cue the glass shattering sound effect*

*Adam quickly turns to look at Celeste with a face of surprise, what did she just say???*

[end.]

#mewtwo #adam johnson #Mary Lavender #celeste gardevoir #main story #chapter 1: new home

5 notes · View notes

feathers-in-the-night · 1 year ago

Text

reading through the story so far was a good idea. Im definitely realizing a lot of the dialogue is a bit stilted. This mightve been bc i was reading a Lord of the rings fic while writing some of the sections, so the formality of the language rubbed off on me. But yeah, they not always talking like young, 21st century people! Need to fix that.

Also I'm realizing HOW OFTEN i use shrugging when describing bodylanguage lmaooo. Need to go back and edit that.

I'm doing that same thing that i did in Feathers where the first three chapters are like.. Almost entirely comprised of small expository scenes, meant to catch the reader up to speed from when we last left them. Not so much the first chapter, but definitely the second and third. I'm also setting up stuff for the future plot at a break-neck speed. Like theyre not BAD scenes or chapters, but the excitement definitely doesnt pick up fully until chapter 4. I'm thinking about merging a few chapters together, because some of them aren't that long. Maybe if i combined chapter 2 and 3, it wouldn't feel as bad because it would get all of the exposition over with in a single chapter, instead of it being stretched out?

Anyway.. The development of their strained relationship seems to be at a good balance. Very early on in the story, due to some circumstances, theyre forced to work together in isolation for a few days and its a pretty angsty time bc theyre both still hurting a lot and theyre having a hard time getting along for a big part of it. But then they get better as time goes on, and that carries over pretty effectively into the rest of the story (that i read so far). I think the chapters where this goes down, I may merge. Not all of them, but some. We'll see. I dont mind the flow as it is, but some of the chapters seem a bit shorter than some of the later stuff. Like, this stuff all takes place over 5 chapters, which is a LOT. Thats 25% of the chapters so far. And some of the chapters seem a lot shorter than necessary

I've read through about half of the story so far and i'm hoping as i read further, i see that i've manage to bridge the gap between "I'm still in love and i think i made a mistake" Morgan and "I'm fine, he's just a good friend" Morgan (Who, to be clear, is in Denial). Bc at the beginning shes VERY conflicted, and by chapter 20, shes fully keeping him at an arms length because shes absolutely sure that shes over him and shes desperately clinging to her "we're friends" mantra.

Anyway those were jsut some thoughts i had. This is mostly something i wrote down for my own benefit so i can remember it for later when i finish the story and go through my rewrites and edits!

1 note · View note

brummiereader · 1 year ago

Text

😂 that gif made me giggle 🤭! Thank you so much for this amazing reblog Shark, your support of this series has warmed my heart. I've loved every comment every rage every reblog you have sent, thank you hun ❤️😘!

Tommy, Tommy, Tommy 😔 * shaking my head. This man had no limitations in the lengths he would go to have her love him. I'm not sure he expected to get sick from his gunshot wound but I know for a fact his sick twisted little brain thought it was a good way of getting Y/N to feel pity for him when shooting himself didn't work 🙄.

Yep back to the gaslighting! The funny part about that sentence was I actually made a spelling mistake and put "your" instead of "you're" 😂...I shamefully went back and edited it after your reblog 😅. Tommy has invaded my brain, and is now speaking to me through my own story 😫!

Oh he absolutely couldn't help himself with the small touches and looks down to her stomach. He was really happy at the idea of her carrying his child, probably the only genuine and loving thing he did throughout the whole series.

I just loved writing that part! His brothers enjoying themselves while Tommy just watches on in the corner observing everything. Yes! If only he would have taught her to aim properly 🤦‍♀️😅. I think he has a soft spot for Y/N, he knows how his brother can be and ultimately feels sorry for her 😔.

😂 I can totally imagine you screaming at your laptop! Dark!Tommy has no problem in making us all rage 😬. Yep exactly that. She wasn't pissing the doctors and nurses off, she was pissing Tommy off, asking questions about her daughter and her wellbeing.

Ooh I love your analogy of her being a laying hen! She has a life ahead of her only filled will seclusion and despair. It's definitely a date worse than death.

I knew from the very start that this was going to be how it all ended. I honestly dreaded people's reactions to the ending, because I knew people wanted closure for Y/N. But this is a dark fic, and they rarely end good. Tommy was always going to win, I just dragged it out over 10 chapters to torment you all 😂😈. Never trust Brummie 🤫🤭.

Thank you so so SO much for your analysis of this last part in Killing Me Softly! The fact that this is one of your favourite stories of all time honestly has me teary 🥺! Your are an incredible mutual and friend, love ya hun 😘❤️!

So here it is everyone, the last part to my Dark!Tommy series "Killing Me Softly". It has been a wild ride with lots of twists and turns, but like all things we've sadly come to the end. I want to thank every single one of you for your comments, reblogs and likes. I have been overwhelmed by the love and support you have all shown this series! I really can't thank you enough. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments, if you liked the final chapter, if it finished the way you expected it to or even the way you wanted it to. Thank you to all of you once again, I couldn't have finished it without you!

Brummie xxx

PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (DARK!TOMMY/ PART TEN)

Summary: After the troubling discoveries you made the previous night in Tommy's office, everything finally comes to an end when you learn of one more sadistic act your husband made in his cruel crusade to make you love him.

Warnings: Language, toxic marriage, psychological abuse, controlling behaviour, manipulative behaviour, psychological mind games, Dark!Tommy ( This is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

" Phenobarbital, fuck where is it?" you mumbled under your breath as you sat on the sofa, frantically searching through a dictionary you had found in the study the next morning, your head turning to the door every other minute afraid your husband would walk in.

Rubbing your forehead you brought your fingers to the space between your brow, pinching the skin as exhaustion started to take over. You hadn't slept last night and had been throwing up on and off all morning. The strain pulling behind your eyes from searching through countless books for the past hour had started to give you a thumping headache, you were drained, desperate to close your eyes and sleep. Trying to relieve some of the tension throbbing against your head, you massaged one of the sides of your temple as you continued to look through the book resting on your lap. Turning the next page your eyes scanned down the text until finally, you found it " Phenobarbital from the barbiturates family. A white crystalline powder often used by patients suffering from epilepsy. Also used in small amounts to subdue those suffering with anxiety and sleep deprivation in the form of a sedative" Sedative...there it was again. Your mother didn't suffer from epilepsy and neither had sleep or anxiety problems. He was having her sedated, but why? Had she angered him? Had he grown tired of paying for her care? Or was it simply another way to get back at you? Running your hands through your hair, fear and panic started to quickly rise within you, your stomach turning at his unforgivable actions. You was scared for your mother, not only for her ongoing care but now for her life. He had played you again, fooled you one last time. If you was ever going to escape this marriage you would have to play along until you found a way out, if there even was one.

"Y/N, what are you doing in here?" You heard your husband say walking into the room. Quickly shutting the book you pushed it under the cushions beside you as you reached for the newspaper in front of you.

" Just reading" you said looking up at him as he sat down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Reading?" he cocked an eyebrow as he took the paper from you." Daily Mails business column" he said clearing his throat as he read the page." Y/N you can barely fucking spell, yet your reading this" he scoffed throwing it on the coffee table in front of him. Turning your head away you brought your fingers up to your mouth as tears threatened to escape, his childish dig at you striking deeper than you thought it would. Already in a heighten state of emotions you felt that you was on the verge of breaking at any given moment. All you desperately wanted was for someone to comfort you and and take you away from the hellish nightmare you was living. Yet here you was, stuck with a man crueler than the Devil himself, all hope within you being crushed with every word he spoke.

" I've made an appointment for you" he said as he turned to face you lighting a cigarette. " A doctor downtown" he finished leaning into the sofa, his thumb brushing down the back of your neck." You listening to me?"

" Hm?..oh, yes. A doctor. Why would I need a doctor?" you questioned pulling yourself away from your worries, your fingers digging into the soft fabric of the sofa as you looked up into his insistent stare. It took every part of you to hold back the questions burning within you, the revelations you had learnt last night forming a knot in your already uneasy stomach.

" Why would you need a doctor?" He repeated as he lent forward tapping the ash from his cigarette into the glass tray in front of him. " Well darling, i think you might have come down with something. Heard you throwing up most of the morning. Now what could possibly cause that, hm?" he asked, taunting you, waiting for you to crack and tell him what he already believed he knew.

" I'm fine Tommy it must have been the champagne from last night" you dismissed unable to look at him as your eyes fixated on your fingers playing nervously with the hem of your dress.

"We're going Y/N. Tomorrow at noon" he said taking your chin with his thumb, lifting your head to face him.

" We? Tommy..."

" Yes we, you're my wife. I'll be in the room with you, that's not a problem is it? It's not like I haven't seen everything already" He said as his eyes quickly darted down to your stomach then back to you. Shaking your head you brought your hands into your lap, as you mentally tried to figure out how to get out of your now impending appointment.

"Good" he said as he let go of your chin. " I'm going out, I won't be long. Some men will be arriving soon to do some work around the property" he told you as he stubbed his cigarette out.

" What work?" You questioned as you watched him stand up, straightening out his waist coat.

" Fencing for around the house, and a new gate. A big one" he said as a small chuckle left his lips. "You should rest darling, your little late night reading session looks like it's warn you out" he advised as he bent down placing his hand firmly to the back of you neck, pressing his lips to yours as his tongue brushed into your mouth. " Oh sweetheart, you really do get me going" he laughed darkly as he looked down at his trousers, sending you a wink. " Ta-ra!" he said as he strolled out the room with his hands in his pockets, leaving you in a state of worry and confusion at his sly comments and clear change in behaviour. Had you angered him?

For the better part of an hour you had been walking aimlessly around the property, one of Tommy's henchman back surveying you, his eyes never leaving you. Leaning against the cold stone of your home Arrow House you nervously bit your nails as you watched the workmen Tommy had hired to build the fencing around the house stack bricks on the ground. In less than twenty- four hours everything had dramatically changed, Tommy's calm loving temperament along with it. Did he know you had found out what he had been doing, what he had been doing to your mother? Or had he discovered that you was carrying his child? As you watched one of the large metal gates being lifted, one or both of the questions you had been mulling over had to be the answer to his sudden change in demeanor, why else would he be doing this. It was now a race to see which one of you was going to break first, which one of you was going to confront the other.

"Harry!" you shouted as you watched the stable boy walk into the barn in the corner of your eye. Jogging over to him you held your coat around your chest from the cool autumn breeze, Tommy's man watching your every move. "Harry?" you said again as you entered the barn when he quickly turned around taking his flat cap off.

"Mrs Shelby" he replied glancing up quickly only for his eyes to dart back to the hay he was breaking up in front of him.

" How are you?" You questioned, seeing the hestiation in him to even look your way. Walking over you tried to catch his line of sight as he continued busying himself, ignoring your attempts to talk with him. " Harry, is everything ok?"

" Oh yes Mam, very well. Mr Shelby wants me to clean the stables out, lots to do" he said as he picked up a handful of hay placing it in a large tin bucket.

" I can see that" you replied with a chuckle as you looked around the barn. " What's this?" You said as you picked up a strange looking black barell on top of a stack of hay.

" Don't know Mam, found it as I was mucking out. Looks like part of a gun" Harry said as he walked over to Tommy's stallion.

"It does doesn't it" you replied as you furrowed your brow, turning the object around in your hand. "Oh please, let me help" you said putting the unusual find back down without giving it a second thought as you walked over to Harry feeding Tommy's horse.

" Can I ?" You said as you put your hand out for the bucket, which harry handed over with a small smile quickly returning to his other jobs.

" Hello you" you said as you stroked down the stallion's mane. He was a beautiful horse with the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. He had gained quite the reputation among the people working at Arrow House. His temperament was unpredictable, the only person he would let ride him was Tommy. Reaching into the bucket you pulled out a handful of hay, stroking his neck as you fed him.

" Fuck, he bit me!" you said as you pulled your hand away, staring back into the darkness of his eyes as he flared his nostrils at you.

" Mrs Shelby!" Harry said, dropping the broom he had been using to sweep the floor as he hurried over to you.

" It's alright Harry, he didn't draw blood" you said as you looked back at Tommy's horse staring at you, his eyes as dark as coal.

"I'm sorry Mam, he's been acting up all morning. I should've warned you" the young stable boy said as you turned to face him.

"Maybe he misses my mare" you told him, trying to ease the worry in his eyes " But nothing could be done, she was lame the poor thing" you said as you looked over to her empty stall.

"Lame? She wasn't la.." Harry started to say until the voice of your husband interrupted him.

" Darling, there you are" Tommy said entering the barn, as your eyes widened at the words you was sure the stable boy was about to say. " What happened there?" Tommy said approaching you, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he took your injured hand into his.

" Your horse bit me" you said bluntly pulling away from his hold, tears welling in your eyes at the latest exposed truth in Tommy's cruel unstoppable mission to torment you.

" Well did you upset him?" Tommy chuckled as he stroked down his horse, whispering words into his ear.

" Fuck off Tommy..." you said pushing past him, cradling your hand as you glanced one last time at the black barell still sitting on the side, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by your husband.

"What did you just say, eh?!" Tommy shouted as he stormed out the barn grabbing the object Harry had found, placing it in his coat pocket. " Hey! What the fucks a matter with you?" Tommy said as he caught up to you, taking you by your wrist.

" You killed my horse!" you said turning around, pushing him away from you.

" Fucking hell" Tommy muttered under his breath. " Darling, we've already gone through this. Yes, I shot her, she was lame"

" She wasn't though, was she Tommy? Is that what you do? Drug and kill when something becomes an inconvenience to you?" you shouted letting the information you had learnt slip out as Tommy tilted his head in response. You had read more than his black book, he quickly thought to himself. "You're a bastard " You said bringing your hand up to slap him, when he grabbed you by your arm.

" I wouldn't do that if I was you darling. You're In no place to judge me. Not with the news I received last night. You want to tell me about it or shall I just wait until I get confirmation tomorrow hm?"

" Don't know what you're talking about Tommy, didn't see it written down in that secret little book of yours. You're slipping!" you shouted back, refusing to answer his question, your own anger at his twisted behaviour boiling over.

" Tut tut tut, well haven't you been busy. Have you been going through my things sweetheart? Tommy said pulling you into him, his eyes piercing down at you.

"Tommy lad!" Arthur shouted out the car window, honking the horn as he and John pulled up beside you. Letting go of you Tommy stepped back, turning to face his brothers.

" I need whisky, and a lot of it after the bellowing I just go from Esme" John said as he got out the car walking over to you both.

" That makes two of us. Must be a full moon tonight brother" Tommy replied with a laugh as he looked back at you with a smirk whilst him and John walked into the house.

" Y/N love, come on" Arthur said putting his arm around your shoulder as you reluctantly followed them in. The last thing you wanted to do was endure a night of watching the three of them all drink themselves into oblivion, but once again it looked like you had no choice in the matter.

For the past two hours you had been sitting on the sofa begrudgingly listening to John and Arthur talk about all the various women they had been with and men they had killed, tallying them up to see which one of them had the most, the whisky clearly doing the talking for them when the conversation turned even more graphic in every sense. But Tommy...he was quiet, he had barely uttered a word the entire time. Instead he had been watching you, staring at you relentlessly as he sipped on his whisky. One sharp look to him had him scoffing at you as he shook his head, downing the rest of his liquor whilst he walked over to you. Just as you reached for a glass of whisky yourself Tommy grabbed it from your hand, throwing the alcohol into the fire next to him.

" I don't think so Y/N" he said looking down at you as your face reddened in embarrassment.

" Here, I'll make you a gin and tonic" John said as he stood up, nearly falling over, the warm lull of the whisky numbing his movements.

" Or just the tonic" Tommy sneered as he stared you down once more before walking away.

" I'm fine John, thanks" you said as you collected your hair to one side, bringing your knuckles up to your mouth as your elbow rested on the arm of the sofa. He knew, he had to. Why hadn't he confronted you?

" Right, everyone shut up and take a look at this" Arthur said as he pulled out a gun. " Brand new, never been shot, acquired under... illegitimate circumstances" he sniggered, holding it up for everyone to see.

" Bloody hell here he goes again, nobody cares about your new gun Arthur" John laughed as he leant back into his armchair looking up at the ceiling.

" Well I bloody care!" Arthur replied stubbornly as John continued to laugh." Y/N, take a look. Beautiful ain't it?" Arthur said as he walked over to you, presenting it like someone would their newborn child.

" Yeh, it's erh...nice Arthur" you replied smiling back to him.

" You ever held a gun before Y/N?"

"No" you shook your head as he held it out for you take.

" Go on, hold it, she won't bite" Arthur chuckled as Tommy and John watched on. " Heavier than you'd think ay?

" It is" you said, surprised by the weight of the cool piece of metal in your hand. "What does this do?" you asked as your thumb rested over a small lever at the top.

" Ooh, no no don't touch that" he laughed looking back to his brothers. " That's the safety, we don't want to shoot anyone's balls off tonight" he chuckled as he clicked it up and down showing you how it worked. " Hold it like this" Arthur motioned to you as your eyes quickly darted to Tommy leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, his chin lifted as his eyes narrowed in on you, watching your every move. "Good" he praised as he helped you up, turning you to look at yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. " We'll soon make a Peaky out of you" Arthur laughed winking to you as he walked off in search of more whisky.

Lowering your hand you looked at your reflection in the mirror as Tommy walked behind you, wrrapping his hand around your stomach.

"Like this" your husband said, placing his hand over yours, moving your finger under the trigger as he raised it back up to both of your reflections.

" Bang" he said quietly in your ear, aiming the gun at your heart in the mirror as his thumb rubbed over your stomach. " You think you could take a life sweetheart?" he asked as he turned his head into your neck, his lips inches from your skin.

" If my own was in danger" you replied turning to face him, a tear falling down your face. He was scaring you, his questions leaving an unsettling feeling in your stomach.

" Your life's never been in danger darling" he said as he lowered the gun in your hand, his other coming up to brush the tear from your cheek.

" But everyone I have known or loves me life is" you replied as you freed your hand from under his. "Tommy why, why would you do that to my mother?" You quietly sobbed as you stared back at him, searching his eyes for an answer, the first to finally break.

"You're tired Y/N, you don't know what you're talking about. Come on let's go to bed" Tommy replied ignoring your questions as he took your hand.

" No. Stop treating me like a child Tommy, answer me. Everything was perfect, but you just couldn't stop yourself, why?" You asked as you pulled your hand away from him stepping back.

" We'll talk about it tomorrow? Now come on" he said taking back your hand as you resisted once more. " You're making a scene Y/N. Do you really want to do this in front of everyone?" He said through gritted teeth as he placed his palm on your lower back pushing you with him to the door as you shook your head in response, reluctantly following him. The last thing you wanted to do was anger him, you knew what would happen if you did, and with your mother being in a vulnurable situation you feared what he would do next. " We're going to bed" Tommy announced as he put Arthur's gun down on the coffee table, his brothers chuckling in resposne.

" Alright Tom boy. Nighty night, have fun" Arthur smiled as he pulled a black barell out his jacket attaching it to his gun.

" What's that?" You said stopping, pulling your hand from Tommy as you turned to face Arthur.

"Y/N, come on" Tommy insisted his grip on your back firmly pushing you forward.

" It's a silencer love, so our little...missions go unheard" Arthur replied as you was half-way out the door when you turned to look at Tommy, his eyes darting between you and Arthur as he cleared his throat. A silencer. It looked identical to the object Harry had found in the barn. Why would there be a silencer in the stables? Tommy's sudden uneasy behaviour had you quickly believing whatever the reason was it was to do with him.

Sitting at the small kitchen table the next morning you buried your head in you arms. Another restless night, two days of almost no sleep, you was barely able keep your head up. Not only was you worried for your mother you had this ongoing feeling in you stomach that something wasn't right. The way Tommy reacted last night when you saw Arthur's silencer had unsettled you. Looking up at the clock you realised you was only a few hours away from the appointment Tommy had made for you, one you knew you had know way of avoiding. Tommy would soon learn you had been keeping the news of your pregnancy from him. Would he go easy on you with his punishment, now you was carrying his child? A part of you already believed he knew your was pregnant, the small touches to your stomach his eyes lingering on your belly, the remarks he would make. What you didn't understand was why he hadn't said anything, what was he waiting for?

" Would you like some tea Mam, let me serve you a cup in the dinning room" Frances said as she walked into the kitchen with an armful of items.

" Oh, no thank you Frances, I quite like being in here watching you all" you said as you lifted your head, the busy noise from the kitchen calming your nerves.

" Mr Shelby will be waiting for you though"

" Let him wait" you said as you brushed your hair back from your face as she gave you a small smile, placing the items on the table in front of you.

" Frances...where did you find that?" You said as you reached your hand out to a small bottle she had placed on the counter.

" In the guest room Mam, I've only just got round to putting it away"

" Which guest room?" You questioned as you held the bottle in your hand, your leg bouncing up and down at the sudden surge of anxiety coursing through your limbs.

" The small one, where Mr Shelby slept when he was sick" she replied as she scrunched her brow at the tears now welling in your eyes, your head shaking in disbelief. The bottle was still sealed, Tommy never took the medicine the doctor prescribed him that night. He let himself get sick. The silencer, the medicine, the vague explanation he gave that night...it suddenly all made sense. He shot himself.

"Mam are you ok?" Frances asked as she reached her hand out to you when you abruptly stood up, bolting out the kitchen into the foyer. Your head was spinning, the sudden realisation of events churning your stomach as a crescendo of panic overwhelmed you. He shot himself, the sick bastard shot himself. He said he was coming back from the stables that night. The same stables where harry just so happened to find the strange black object as he was clearing out the barn, the object you now knew was a silencer made for a gun. He shot himself in almost the exact same place from a previous bullet wound. He knew he wouldn't die, he survived it once he would survive it again. As you tried to make sense of everything, the words Tommy left you with that night suddenly rang in your ears "You will learn to love me again". The man who would stop at nothing to keep you under his control, to keep you hoping for the boy he once was executed the most ultimate act of desperation for your love.

Running to the phone you frantically tried to form a clear sentence to the operator on the end of the line as you desperately asked her to put you through to Polly.

" Yes Miss Polly Gray, try Watery la..." You started to say when you felt a warm hand take the receiver from you, placing it back down onto the table.

" What are you doing love?" Tommy said, breathing against the back of your neck as you slowly turned around to face him, his eyes boring into you as he watched the tears fall down your face.

" Stay away from me, you fucking stay away from me!" you shouted at him as you walked backwards to the front door.

"Y/N" he warned you, unable to hold back the smirk forming on the corner of his mouth.

" You sick twisted bastard!" You screamed as your back hit the large wooden door.

" Now I know you didn't mean that " he replied pointing at you as he started walking slowly towards you. Turning around you fumbled to undo the lock, pushing it with force as your ran out the house down to the bottom of the path.

" Should we go after her?" one of Tommy's men said stood in the foyer.

" No leave her, she won't get far" Tommy replied as he lit a cigarette walking out the front door. " Come back inside darling, it's cold!" he shouted as he watched you run to the large gate at the end of the drive pushing it back and forth as you tried to open it. " It's locked sweetheart" he said as he approached behind you like you would a wild horse.

" Get away from!" You cried as you started walking along the fence in the hopes of finding an exit.

" Alright then, we'll go on a little walk eh?" Tommy chuckled as he caught up with you, reaching his hand out for you to take as if you was going on a romantic stroll through the countryside. Slapping it away you glared at him as he laughed in response, amused by the whole situation.

" Stay away from me Tommy. You're fucking insane! What kind of person shoots themselves for their wife's sympathy" you said as Tommy grabbed you by the arm spinning you around to face him.

" You're loosing it sweetheart if you've convinced yourself of that"

" You're not so clever Tommy, I figured it out. Harry found the silencer in the barn. You shot yourself that night and you didn't take the medicine the doctor prescribed. Why...because you couldn't stand the fact I hated you, so you forced me to take pity on you, to give you a second chance, forced me to feel something for you again. You seethed, pushing his hand away as you stormed off.

" Think you've been reading too many novels darling" Tommy chuckled as he caught up to you, standing in your path, mirroring your movements with each step you tried to make.

" Im so stupid, I can't believe I fell for it. Fell for your lies" you said coming to a stop, brushing the tears from your cheeks.

" Lies? I never lied that night Y/N, when I told you that you kept me alive, kept me going in France I meant it.

" So much that you've been following me for the past decade. You're a freak Tommy!" You said as you pushed past him.

"Yeh alright, I admit it. Guilty" he replied putting his hands up in a mock gesture as he jogged up to where you was again " You did something to me in France, put a spell on me, bewitched me" he said with a smirk on his face as you scoffed at the ridiculous excuse for his madness.

" And my mother Tommy, what did she do to deserve your cruelness?"

" Your mother is fucking crazy, maybe it's genetic" he replied looking at you from head to toe, insinuating you was also" Your dear mother was being sedated because she was pissing everyone off, trying to escape the facility she was in, causing hell for all the doctors and nurses. But that's no longer a problem. She saw a new doctor you see, one found by me. She's been declared clinically insane, now she will spend the rest of her days locked up in the local madhouse." he viciously stated, knowing how much the news would anger you.

Grabbing the gun from his holster you pushed him away as you raised it to his face, your whole body shaking as tears blurred your vision. Chuckling, Tommy threw his cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out with his boot.

" You've got more attempted murders than me" Tommy laughed as he walked over to you, not caring you had a gun pointing straight at him. "Now give me the gun, we both know you're not gonna do anything"

" No!" You said pulling down the safety like Arthur had shown you, the expression on Tommy's face suddenly changing.

"What? You gonna shoot the father of that baby growing inside you" he said as he gestured to your stomach. " You're not so innocent Y/N are you, hm? Was quite the shock I had when one of my men told me you had visited that old hag in London. Was you going to get rid of my child eh, my fucking child?!"

" I...no Tommy" you cried, feeling the barrier of the gun protecting you suddenly evaporating as you unconsciously lowered the pistol in your hand, your secret now spoken, exposed.

" You thought about it though. See, I was waiting for confirmation from a doctor since you wouldn't tell me yourself, but you just did that for me didn't you? Now what you're gonna do right.." he said as he pointed his finger at you, his face reddened by anger. "Is give me that gun. Then we'll go home and talk about this like adults" he ordered as he stepped forward.

" No!" You screamed back as you raised the pistol in your hand once more. " You've ruined my Life, you've taken away everyone i love and care about. I won't let you ruin this child's life as well! You cried as you stood your ground your whole body trembling as a surge of adrenaline rushed through you.

" Give me the fucking gun Y/N! " Tommy shouted as he stormed over to you. " Now!"

It happened so quickly, you didn't think twice about doing it, you weren't even sure you thought at all when your finger pressed down on the trigger sitting beneath your skin. With your eyes firmly shut you listened to the last echos of the gunshot fade around you, the distant sound of autumn leaves blowing in the wind, and then silence total silence as if for a brief moment the world stood still and watched as everything played out. Lowering the gun, a wave of relief left your body as you stood there, the chilled breeze of winter approaching cooling the anger within you. Peace had finally descended on the grounds of Arrow house, or had it?

" You missed..." you heard through the crisp country air, your eyes darting open to see your husband standing in front of you, staring you down. Dropping the gun in your hand you collapsed onto the ground below you in tears as you watched him charge towards you, pulling you up from the grass. " Anyone could have made that shot" he said as he grabbed your head between his hands. " Yet you missed, you missed! See, you love me Y/N. I knew you fucking loved me!" he said reasoning with his own madness, pressing his lips to yours, his hands wrapped tightly around you, the only thing holding you up as the life drained from you.

" Fuck.." he said letting go, sighing as all the anger he was holding in left him. " We're made for eachother Y/N. You and me. It was always meant to be" he said cupping your cheeks once again, as you nodded, crying tears you no longer thought you had left, giving in, no more strength left to tell him otherwise. Pressing his forehead to yours Tommy brought his hand down to your stomach, rubbing his thumb over the small swell under your dress.

" When this one is born, I'll put another in you then another until that whole house is filled" He smiled unnervingly as his eyes darted back to Arrow House in the distant. " You and me yeh, our own little family"

" Tommy, I..I want to go home" you said as you looked up at him your eyes pleading one last time to be free of him.

" This is your home sweetheart. You belong with me you've always belonged to me" he said pressing your head in his hands his eyes inches from yours. " I will never let you leave, never. You're mine Y/N"

He will never let you go. He will hunt you down and live forever through you...the words you heard all those months ago would now cruelly haunt you until your last breath. It was over, your childhood love was gone, there was nothing left of you. You were shackled to him for the rest of your life, bearing his children so his legacy could live on. The game had come to an end, the ultimate prize won. He had played by his own rules for so long there was only ever going to be one outcome. An unchangeable fate had been sealed from the very moment you had met, it was always going to end this way. For you and everyone else knew, Tommy Shelby always wins, always.

The end.

Tag list: @litteltourtius (unable to tag) @aesthetic0cherryblossom @swordofawriter @casa-boiardi @muhahaha303 @fmo166 @call-sign-shark @priyajoyy @gypsy-girl-08 @missbeeentertainment @cryptidscool (unable to tag) @warrior-of-justice @runnning-outof-time @camilleholland89 @amberpanda99 @scarwxrld @pleasant-meadow @fleurfatale89 (unable to tag) @strnqer @hope4rain19

#Shark ❤️#The end.😩#Killing me Softly #Dark!Tommy Shelby #Tommy shelby #Thomas Shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine

509 notes · View notes

markidarker · 3 years ago

Text

We Meet Again; Part Four

Eventual pairing: Dark x OC (Merrick)

Authors note: Thanks to everyone that has liked or shared my story, I appreciate it! I'm basically using this to work on my writing after not doing it for so long. I hope to get better with time 😁

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

Almost a month went by since that night, and Merrick felt like she wasn’t any closer to being ready to see him again.

Even though she wanted to. As much as she tried to deny it, a day didn’t go by that she didn’t think about him. He also did not appear again, seeming to give her the time she needed.

Before he entered her life again, she could just be angry. Angry at his betrayal, angry that he left her alone, angry at a past life that she would never get to carry out. It was a weapon, one she wielded to protect the deepest, darkest part of her being. The part that was still the meek, kind district attorney who cared about the dashing, altruistic Mayor more than he would ever know. In this 'new' life, she could go as she pleased, keeping people at arm's length while doing what she wanted.

Then he had to approach her, different but not entirely, and the dam started to crack. Was he really just trying to protect her? Why did he lie to her then?

This had to be handled, she couldn’t run from it. As much as her chest hurt and her stomach seemed to twist into several knots, Merrick appeared outside of the house…well, more accurately, the mansion at the address listed on the business card. She made her feet move one in front of the other until she was at the front door. Grabbing the antique door knocker, she was barely able to knock it once against the wood before the door flew open.

She wasn’t expecting to see the pink mustached and suspendered man that greeted her happily.

“My word, it’s you! Please, please, come in.” Wilford moves to the side and motions for her to step in. Merrick can’t help but smile as she moves over the threshold and in one quick movement, Wilford takes her by the hand and elegantly spins her in a circle. After the initial shock, she laughs…giggles, even. It surprises even her. “You are an absolute vision, sugarplum! Not to mention your sunflowers match my shirt,” he says with a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he takes in the a-line summer dress she is wearing. While the top half of the dress is black, the skirt is white and stops just below her knees, adorned with several pictures of sunflowers. He adjusts the collar of his yellow dress shirt.

“You’re too kind, Wilford,” she says, her face flushing slightly. “How are you?”

“Infinitely better now, Merrie-Berry. Things have been alright, though, otherwise.” He lets go of her hand and starts to move toward the large living area. “And you? Have you had time to, er…well, think about some things?”

"Ah. Of course, you spoke with Dark.”

“Mm, just a little. Sounds like things didn’t go so well.” He’s gesturing, then he turns to face Merrick, wringing his hands. “Now you must know, sweetheart, it wasn’t my intention to cause any trouble! It’s just that, after our wonderful talk, I thought it would be a good idea for you two crazy kids to work some things out. I've learned nothing heals like a good apology, and you were willing to hear me out, so-“

“Wil,” she interrupts and reaches out to touch his arm. She knew he was sorry for shooting her. He didn’t mean for it to happen…she could still see the look of horror on his face as she fell off the balcony. “It’s okay…really. It is a lot, but I’m here, right? I just want to do my best to understand everything.”

Wilford lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. In that case, allow me to escort you to his office. I’m sure he’s eager to speak with you.”

For whatever reason, Merrick had a hard time believing that, but she merely nods. Wilford offers his arm to her and she hooks her arm through, resting her hand on the crook of his elbow. Wilford must have sensed her nervousness as they made their way through the living area and up the stairs, his free hand resting over hers and giving a reassuring pat or two every once in a while.

They walked down a hallway and eventually Wilford slowed down to a stop. “It’s that door right there,” he says while gesturing to a large door on the right. “I know this is difficult, but just try and hear him out. He can be a bit prickly, but he’s willing to do the same.”

Merrick takes in a deep, steadying breath and looks over at him. “Thank you, Wil.”

“My pleasure, sugarplum. Good luck!” Wilford gives her hand a last squeeze before letting go and heading back the way they came. The hallway feels eerily quiet now, and after another moment, she moves to the door and gently knocks.

“Enter.”

She turns the knob, hating the slight shake in her hand, and opens the door. The scene before her takes her breath away, and she’s immediately lost in a memory. It wasn’t exact, but the layout of this office was close enough to how Damien had the Mayor’s Office that it made her freeze. Large, mahogany desk in the back center of the room. Black leather chair, with two smaller chairs across from the desk. The right side of the room had a coffee table, two leather armchairs and matching sofa next to a fireplace. There were a few bookshelves pushed against the walls, and various pieces of art. She’s admiring the piano on the left side of the room when she notices the painting.

Starry Night, hanging on the wall to the left of the piano. It was her favorite painting. When Damien had become the Mayor, she had given him a replica of it in…was that the same frame? The memory was hazy, the clearest detail was the grin that broke out across his face as he opened it. She had been so happy for him, he had many plans to improve his city and she wanted to help him however she could. Even if it meant keeping her feelings to herself, she didn’t want to jeopardize his position or hers if-

“Merrick.”

His voice cuts through her thoughts and she quickly turns her gaze to him. He’s standing at a smaller table next to his desk, a few assorted glass bottles of dark amber liquid and drink glasses sat on it. He appeared to be in the middle of pouring himself a drink, and again, she’s staring into the past. This time, his black suit was traded in for a cream color, the jacket slung over his desk chair. His black dress shirt was well fitted, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top couple buttons undone and no tie. They stare at each other for a few seconds, then his gaze moves to what she’s standing next to. Unknown to her until now, she had moved through the room until she was standing next to the piano.

“Sorry, I, um…,” Merrick stops and clears her throat, attempting to regain her composure. “I was just admiring your piano.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up faintly. “It’s quite alright. Please, have a seat if you want.” Dark faces her fully, his eyes moving quickly over her form before glancing to the side. “Would you like something to drink?”

As enticing as a stiff drink was at this moment, she decides that maybe that should come later. “Water, please.” Her heels clack against the hardwood floor as she moves to one of the armchairs and takes a seat, crossing her right leg over her left. The low warmth from the fireplace is soothing compared to the nerves working in her body, her right foot bouncing slightly up and down. Soon, Dark is at her side offering a water bottle and she gently takes it from him.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, looking up at him with a small smile. He merely nods with a smile of his own before taking a seat on the sofa across from her. Merrick watches as he takes a sip of his drink and leans forward to set it down on the table.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation,” Dark says, placing his right ankle on top of his left knee. He appeared to be mostly relaxed, the aura around him was faint. The ringing was negligible, more of a soft hum than anything. There was still a nervous energy in the room that couldn’t be ignored.

“I appreciate you giving me some time,” Merrick says. Her hands fold in her lap, fingers picking at the label on the water bottle.

“Of course.”

Merrick remembers Wilford’s words and takes a calming breath. “Where should we start, then?”

He contemplates her question for a moment, his eyes not leaving her. His usual stoic expression softens. “I’d like to apologize.”

She’s taken off guard and can only nod. Did she hear him correctly?

Dark continues, speaking slowly. “My behavior the last time we were together was…uncalled for. I allowed my emotions to get the better of me, and ruined what could have been an amicable discussion. For that, I am sorry.”

As sincere as he appears to be, Merrick gets the distinct feeling that he isn’t used to making such apologies. She clears her throat. “Well…my behavior certainly didn’t help the situation. I could have been less combative.”

He shakes his head, looking into the fireplace. “You have every right to feel angry, after what happened.”

Merrick watches him, the reflections of the flames dancing in the darkened color of his eyes. He seemed…a little sad, when he wasn’t angry. The few times she’s seen him smile or even smirk, it never quite touched his eyes. She had wanted to be so angry with him, she didn’t think about what he possibly went through.

“So do you, Dark,” she says quietly after a moment. He looks back at her and smiles faintly, but it’s gone just as quickly. “I want to understand, and I need you to help me do so.”

“Of course. Anything,” he says and leans forward, resting his forearms on top of his thighs and clasping his hands together. “What do you remember about being in the void, with Celine and I?”

“It’s…mostly hazy. I remember you saying Mark was responsible for everything, Celine said she could get me back to my body, but it was my choice.” She swallows hard and looks down at the bottle in her hands, the label hanging off at this point. “The clearest thing I remember is…you said to me, ‘this will work. I promise.’ And then I was in the mirror, watching you leave.” Tears threaten to spill over, but she takes in a breath, ignoring the pain of emotions held in her throat. She wants to ask him why again, but she doesn’t.

“That’s everything you remember?,” he asks gently.

Merrick finally looks up at him and nods. “Yes.”

“Do you trust me to tell you about the pieces of the story you’re missing?”

She’s quiet for a moment, the hum enveloping them. “I think so…yes. But there is another way.”

Dark tilts his head to the side, curious. “Oh?”

“If you allow me to…I can see the memory for myself. It’s easy to do with humans, but you’re a powerful being from what I can tell. You would have to let me in.” She trails off and watches him carefully, wondering if she has made a mistake. He narrows his eyes in thought, and Merrick is about to rescind the suggestion when he speaks rather seriously.

“Is it going to cause you harm in any way?”

She blinks, taken aback. That was not what she was expecting him to ask. “N-No, only if I tried to do it by force. Or if you push back.” She shifts in her seat, planting both feet on the floor. She was mostly telling the truth. If she is accessing a memory that she only has bits and pieces of, she imagined there would be some discomfort. Nothing she couldn’t handle, though. But why was she missing bits and pieces in the first place? She did have lapses in memory from her time in the mirror, so it could have something-

Her thoughts are interrupted when she notices that Dark is watching her. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?,” she asks.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile as he runs his hand through his hair. “You’re chewing on your bottom lip, and I don’t think that label can be torn into any smaller pieces.” His eyebrows raise, head tilting downward to point toward the water bottle in her lap.

Merrick looked down, and sure enough, there was a small pile of shredded paper in her lap. She huffs. “Just curious about what I’m going to see, I suppose.”

“Merrick-“

She sets the water bottle aside and gathers the paper, then in one smooth movement, she stands up and walks over to the small trash can by the desk and throws the paper away. Then she places her hand on one of the chairs across from the desk and looks across the room at him. “Do you want to do this?”

“…Yes,” Dark responds, then he stands up. As he finishes his drink, Merrick pulls the chair over until it’s across and slightly to the right of where she was sitting.

She resumes her seat, and Dark sits across from her and…my goodness, she’s a little too aware of how close they are. Their legs are mere inches away from touching, as this was the closest they had been to each other. A pleasant scent of sandalwood and some kind of citrus reaches her nose. She finds herself getting a good look at his face, and he was as handsome as she remembered. Stubble, disheveled hair, piercing eyes, strong jawline. He’s staring intently at her, his expression unreadable. and she raises her hands slowly until they are hovering on either side of his head.

“I will have to touch you…is that okay?,” Merrick asks barely above a whisper. Dark swallows hard and nods. She gently places her hands on either side of his head, thumbs resting against his temples as she stares into his onyx eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Yes…”

“Just focus on the memory…and keep looking into my eyes.” Her voice takes on a similar, sing-song tone as it did at the club as shimmery violet swirls and fills her irises. Then she’s thrust into the past.

PART FIVE

35 notes · View notes

peakyscillian · 4 years ago

Text

| The Sixth Month Date| Cillian x Reader | Mini-Series |

Summary: Six months after your first blind date you & Cillian have your sixth month date. Warnings: Age gap (Reader is in her 20's), Smut at the end. Request: Part one was a request. A/N: I got carried away this is a long one! Like always no disrespect to Cillian's family, this is basically an AU where he's single.

•The Sixth Month Date | Mini-Series•

Part one here, Part two here & Part three here Masterlist

The underwear was wrapped beautifully in the pink box, you'd spent hours pouring over the webpages of agent provocateur, you'd finally picked a delicate black lace, half cup bra with matching lace thong, you'd decided against the matching suspender belt after a discussion with Ella.

Ella was still shocked that your had waited this long before sleeping with Cillian, you'd stayed at his house so many times in the past six months but you'd both held off actually having sex. You'd spent the time getting to know each other, spending nights curled on his sofa and early sunday mornings dragging lazy moans from each other in everyway but the one you had been saving.

Cillian had text you that morning, with details of the restaurant he had booked for your date, you'd sent him back a simple text, telling him you were looking forward to it and you'd see him later.

Ella had come over as you were getting ready, she was so excited that a date she had set you up on had gone this well, you and Cillian had been officially together since the one month mark. She was also bringing some shoe options for you after you'd begged to borrow her expensive black dress.

***

Cillian was waiting outside the restaurant when you made your way up the road from where your uber had dropped you off, he was wearing a simple black shirt, darkwashed jeans and his usual tan boots, his hair you noticed has been slightly cut but still the length that suited him so well.

A smile broke out on his face as he spotted you, the black dress hugging your figure tightly, you small feet encased in the shoes you'd borrowed from Ella, hair half pinned and the rest down. "Hey beautiful" he swooped down to catch your lips in a passionate kiss. You linked your hand with his "looking handsome Cill" you nudged his jaw with your nose, only being able to reach his lips when you were on tiptoes.

Cillian held the door open for you, stepping into the restaurant it was busy but you knew you wouldn't be bothered by anyone recognising Cillian, he held out the chair for you to sit down, lips dropping to the top of your head before he took his own seat.

"You look absolutely stunning y/n" he had a massive grin on is face as he looked at you, you blushed slightly feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You sipped from the chilled wine "wanted to look nice for you" you shyly smiled at him, he linked his fingers through yours across the table. "You always look beautiful, you don't have to do anything for me" he stroked his thumb over the back of your hand.

You nodded "I know, but I wanted to do it for you" you confirmed tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

*** Cillian's arms wrapped around your waist as you stood waiting for the uber back to his house, his chin resting on your shoulder, fingers brushing over the satin material of the dress across your middle "m' I love you" he muttered against the shell of your ear.

You turned to look at him, his eyes shining as they darted around your face, you licked at your dry lips, heart only speeding up a little at his words.

"I love you too, Cill" you beamed, pressing your lips against his, he sighed as you pulled away.

"Thank god you said it back" he chuckled as the uber pulled up, you slapped his arm lightly as he moved to open the car door. "Why wouldn't I" you questioned slipping into the backseats, he followed suit, both strapping in and then his hand was on your thigh just above your knee. "I don't know, I haven't felt it in a long time for anyone but I've been feeling it for a while for you" he was talking low as the uber raced through the City. You nodded slowly, taking in his words "I've been feeling it too, almost said it a few times" you ran your hand across his jawline, he nipped at the tip of your thumb cheekily, causing you to giggle softly.

*** You stood in the ensuite, taking a deep breath as you pulled off the dress revealing the underwear you'd picked especially for tonight, pulling your hair from the clasp you shook it out down your back, you suddenly had a feeling like it was your first ever time, shaking your head to get rid of those thoughts you took one last look in the mirror you opened the bathroom door, turning out the light. Cillian's eyes flicked up to you, as you stood in the doorway of his ensuite, he was in the bed already like you had instructed him to do, he'd done it whilst protesting that he didn't want to leave your lips for too long. His eyes widened "fuck, how did you get even more stunning" he chuckled lightly running a hand through his hair, you smiled coyly at him taking a few steps across the wooden floors. "You like it?" you asked, finally standing at the side of his kingsize bed, hands on his shoulders as you swung your legs either side of his hips, his hands fell to your waist stroking down to your hips. He drew in a deep breath "very much" he dug his nails into the soft skin of your hips, your hands were running up and down his arms, your breath shaking in anticipation.

"Kind of don't want to take it off you" he admitted fingers trailing over the thin lace of the bra, hooking the straps with his fingers, pulling them down to rest loosely above your elbows "but also want to get to whats underneath" he laughed conflicted with how good you looked in the underwear, but knowing you'd look just as amazing out of it. "I bought it so you could remove it" you pressed a kiss to his lips, "wanted you to take it off me, finally have me" you sighed out a breath as his fingers hooked the elastic of the thong you were wearing. Cillian nodded quickly, turning so you were laying on your back, crawling over you, lingering his hands over your breasts, squeezing at your thighs, fingers ghosting across your already wet pussy through the lace of your black thong, lips nipping at your neck before pulling the thong down your legs, lifting each leg and discarding the material on the floor. Lifting you up from the mattress to unclasp the bra, you lifted your arms so he could remove it fully and let it join the thong on the floor "Fucking beautiful" he rasped in his thick irish accent. Cillian tugged your legs gently so you were flat on your back, he settled between your legs, he was peppering kisses up your thighs, hands curled around your ankles planting your feet flat on the mattress, pushing your knees apart, his eyes devoured the sight of your glistening pussy as the pressure on your knees opened you up to him. He sucked in a breath as he felt his cock straining against the material of his black calvins, the sight in front of him making his mouth water, his breath fanning across your throbbing heat was causing electic to run through your whole body, the feeling heightened from the tension between you since you'd entered his house. Your body was reacting to his touches, propped up on your elbows so you could watch him, as he slowly but surely moved his mouth over your sopping cunt, sucking first, tounge darting out occassionaly to flick in between your folds, licking up your juices, his blue eyes locked with yours, darkened with lust, his nose was nudging over your clit already sensitive and pulsing causing a shiver to curse through your body. His tounge pressed flat against you, dragging up placing a kiss to your freshly waxed mound, the strip of hair left running down the centre to the flesh covering your bundle of nerves, he ran his nose down the course hair dipping his tounge in as he pulled back the hood with a two fingers, exposing the most sensitive part of you to him, he blew a cool breath across it making you yelp in surprise head falling back. Your hands tangled in his hair, soft between your fingers "fuck, Cillian this feels amazing" you whined, body writhing below his mouth "Want to make you feel good" his lips still against you as he spoke, causing vibrations to ripple through you. Cillian wrapped his tounge around your clit, varying pressure on it as he slid a finger into your soaking entrance, right to the knuckle, pulling out he added a second finger to the mix, sucking your clit into his mouth before letting go with a pop. You were in a state of bliss, legs threatening to close around his head, his free hand held your knee in place, keeping you spread for him, so he could continue his skilled attack on your throbbing cunt, his fingers pumping into you, his tongue lapping around his fingers, up to you clit, down your folds with a slight nip at you swollen lower lips.

Your mind was in a frenzy, the feeling of the need to reach your orgasm and wanting to hold out was making your breathing laboured, Cillian's mouth expertly working you to your release, his fingers coaxing it along quicker. You pulled his head up "Cill, I need you to fuck me, fill me up" you whined. He licked his lips your juices coating his chin, the tip of his nose "you want that, yeah?" he asked a smirk on his face as you nodded frantically. "please, please" you panted, his fingers were settled in you not moving, he tapped them upwards making your legs shake. Cillian crawled over you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, as he pushed his boxers down, his hard cock springing free, you reached between your bodies to pull his foreskin back, exposing his head leaking with precum you swiped your finger over it. He was watching you as you sucked your finger into your mouth the taste of him salty but sweet on your tounge you moaned around your finger causing him to scrunch his eyes closed with his own moan. Cillian reached over you to his bedside table "please don't think i was planning this, I just wanted to be prepared" he sighed as your hand curled back around him while he tried to grab for the condom. He knelt between your legs, opening the foil packet and rolling the condom down his hard length, causing you to moan at the sight of him doing so, he leaned back over you, you opened your legs inviting him to take you fully. You guided him into you, he was stretching you as you sighed, his face falling into your neck he bit at your warm skin, you pushed your feet against his bare bum signalling for him to move. Cillian snapped his hips towards yours, hands either side of your head so he could get the right angle to fill you completely, his head dropping to watch as he disappeared into you. Your hands curled around his bicep "can you feel that, love? deep inside you" he groaned as you nodded. "told you I wanted you to fill me up" you whined pushing his hair off his forehead. Cillian pressed his lips hard against yours, nipping at them for access into your warm mouth, you allowed him sucking at his tongue, as he curled a hand around your thigh lifting your leg up against his hip. "You're so tight" he sighed pulling from your lips momentarily "feels so fucking good" he added, nuzzling into the warm sticky skin of your neck. You threw your head back into the pillows, exposing your neck for him, he grazed his teeth against the thin skin, biting gently at it before soothing the marks with his tongue. "Cillian, Cillian" you whined his name, causing him to thrust into you harder. You smirked at him "like hearing your name huh?" you asked hand cupping his face as he nodded turning his face to kiss your palm. "Fuck, yes, like hearing how good I make you feel" he sighed as your hips moved to meet his, nails moving over his shoulders to dig into his back, his soft freckled skin warm under you touch. "Feels amazing, you feel so good, stretching me like this" you moaned. He dived back in for another kiss, lips moulding together in a heated exchange, he pulled away the sight of you ruined below him causing him to speed up his pace. "Right, uh, fuck there" you wrapped your legs around his waist, as he pounded into you. Pulling out slowly, resting his tip in between your folds, covered in your juices, your thighs slick with your excitement, he thrust back in sliding effortlessly into your throbbing cunt, repeating the action a few times over. Cillian buried his face into your neck, as he felt your release clench around him, his hips sloppily moving as he pushed you towards your orgasm, your wet walls milking him to his to the edge, he toppled over with you, both moaning and panting trying to grab onto each others skin. You lifted your head up to kiss him as he rested on his forearms either side of your head, trying to catch his breath. "that was something else" he sighed dropping kissing to your chest, hands cupping at your breasts. Your fingers were tangled in his hair as he coaxed you down from your

high, with gentle kisses and tugs of your nipples "well happy six months Cill" you laughed lightly your legs falling from around his waist.

He rolled off you, both hissing at the lose of contact, he removed the condom, leaving the bed to discard it in the bathroom bin. You made yourself comfortable on the side of the bed that you had now definitely claimed as your own in the past six months, making yourself comfortable on the stack of pillows. "What did I do to deserve you?" he climbed back under the covers, both of you bare as he turned to lay on his side, you done the same moving closer to him. "We both deserve each other" you smiled pushing his hair from his forehead, your lips pecking his in gentle butterfly kisses. You both fell into a deep sleep, his arm around you keeping you against his chest.

*** Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!) @queenshelby @elenavampire21 @datewithgianni @lawfeys @janelongxox If i've missed anyone who asked to be added please message me!

#cillian x reader #cillian murphy #mini series #the date #the second date #cillian murphy mini series #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #my writing #ntmynouis is my main account #request #taglist #fluff #potentialboyfriend!cillian #cillian fluff #cillian x fem!reader #female reader #the sixth month date

170 notes · View notes

countthelions · 3 years ago

Text

Dear Operator, what’s in a name?

a continuation of [this piece], taking place near the beginning of the timeline after Gaster makes the impulsive decision to take home the elemental he accidentally created. Dedicated to @/plantpretender for their support when I was feeling very low about this AU. I don’t know what else will be created for it, but like our two here, it’s worth sharing for the joy of it existing.

Gaster tends to call the operator in his apartment stairwell, ‘cause he’s got six flights to trek up and he gets tired lugging all his books and equipment and whatever else he tries to bring up from the labs up all those steps. His magic could be used to help carry things, but it’s honestly not the strongest and he’d rather save it for delicate lab work instead.

So he usually takes a break on the third level 'cause no one lives in the rooms right by the stairs on his side of the building (he doesn't know why, but it's why rent is cheap despite being in walking distance of the subway, so he'll take whatever he can) and it gets surprisingly good cell service. Usually. There was one time it was just garbage noise until he switched to the other side of the space then it cleared up just fine. But during this pause, he asks about Names.

He’d been talking but not-really-talking to Alphys about the elemental - not-really-talking because he doesn’t want her to get in trouble either, but still desperately needing someone to hear what’s going on - and about her class because her undergrads were a really neat bunch this quarter. As always, she was very worried about their needs and making sure they understood what she was teaching them, and when one came in with an interpreter, she knew she needed to brush up on her signing with Gaster. Since y’know, skeleton talk is his first language and monster-speak is his second and sign was the bridge between them.

That then sorta rolled into the idea of Names, because of name signs and Gaster kinda stops and is like, well. shit. The elemental needs a name. I can't just keep waving to get his attention. He seems used to that sort of greeting already for reasons Gaster doesn't want to think about. It feels... wrong, and so Gaster calls the Commission line, and doesn't try to think too hard about Papyrus yet again being the one who picks up.

"Welcome to the Monster Commission Helpline, Papyrus speaking, how may we help you on this fantastic day?"

"Hi Papyrus." It might be karma or something that it's Papyrus every time actually. Gaster's trying to hide this monster who isn't supposed to exist outside of war efforts and something wants him to get caught. Not Papyrus at least. He hopes. For as rule following as the other monster is - he does work for the Commission after all, it’s probably some sort of requirement - he's never actually asked for any more information, just excited to share his knowledge.

"Mr. Elemental Research!" Well... Maybe..... Gaster tries to not fidget in concern, or look around like someone suddenly started monitoring them.

"That's me aheh..." He rubs his free hand on one pant leg, trying to get out the jitters. These calls were worth it, he reminded himself, it was worth learning more about this elemental and about what he needed and - "I bet you can tell why I'm calling?"

"Absolutely, I've got the book out again and everything." There was a shuffle, like some sort of elemental tome had been pulled from the shelves. It'd be easier if Gaster could just... get that somehow, but he was already in deep enough trouble with hiding an elemental and there was no way Papyrus would just hand it over. Also seeing him? Seeing the operator? Yeah that was a really bad idea. He did not need Papyrus to know who he was or what he looked like because then he'd tell Stratus and she would - "you still there?"

"Uh, yes. Yes! Sorry, I was," Gaster jolts, pacing the length of the little landing platform as he tried to think of a good lie. "uh, getting out my notebook to write this down." yeah that's.... that'll have to do. "Uhm, I wanted to ask about... names?"

"Oh! Give me one moment." There's another shuffle of pages, Papyrus humming quietly to himself instead of putting on the hold music which Gaster appreciates. The hold music for one is boring and two, it means Papyrus maybe isn't telling someone about these calls when Gaster can’t hear. Gaster can continue to hope and fret that that’s why Papyrus is humming.

He doesn't recognize the song either but something about it is familiar? He taps his foot along as some sort of beat - and to continue to get out the nerves until Papyrus finally answers. “Thank you for waiting! I don’t really see anything on names here. As tools, they were easily replaced by the units assigned to needing an elemental’s destructive strength, usually the frontlines, so you could look up specific units to track any historical significance between these weapons. The practice of not naming them appears to have kept up to this day.”

Papyrus keeps talking about where Gaster can look up the different commanders and units and battalions and all this other military jargon Gaster has dumped immediately into a mental box of "really not good news probably" when these calls first started but he's not listening anymore. A ringing fills his skull he knows is an increase of magic because everything in his vision goes blue and there's a static crack to the air that feels like a thunderstrike about to crush him to bone dust.

No name.

No name?!

"I'll be sure to look those up, thank you." Gaster cuts Papyrus off, hanging up. He barely resists the urge to throw his phone - if only because he unfortunately still needs it and doesn't have the money to replace it - and instead shoves it in his pocket and gathers all his stuff to hike back up the stairs. He takes them two at a time, unburdened by his load in the fury that rises.

What sort of monster creates a living creature and doesn't name them?

They're not tools, they must've had lives and beliefs and things they liked and didn't like and favorite foods - he knows what this elemental likes - and different voices and flame patterns surely and - it doesn't make sense. The heartlessness wedges beneath his teeth, and all his magic tries crushing the idea with each grind of his jaw. It doesn't make sense.

He'll have a name. Gaster thinks. We'll spend all week looking for a good one, he's gonna have one no matter what.

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

He'd been thinking.

Usually he thought about the books Gaster had brought him, because whenever he came home, Gaster would ask about which ones he liked best so the next books he brought the elemental would be about those topics. He was working up through the younger monster books to stuff with less pictures and more words in them too, so there were a lot of topics to pick from as language clicked more and more in his mind. This week was almost half and half words and pictures, and that felt like a really big accomplishment, especially seeing how the stack on the left - the one he put the read books in, that he understood - grow compared to its neighbor, the one where he'd have to ask Gaster for what certain words meant. The dictionary he was given helped with figuring out words too but it was more fun to ask Gaster instead, to see what the skeleton knew and if it was something related to his work. Those were the best topics he discovered, because it made whatever core that made up Gaster's magic - a soul, he thinks Gaster had called it, but it was bigger than that single word could define. His own felt bigger at least - glow like fire. When it glowed, he seemed happier too, less worried.

The worry made the elemental wonder if there was something he was supposed to do to help. There was an urge that told him he needed to protect and fend off whoever hurt his creator - but something too told him that urge had no actual target. Gaster hadn't really made him, at least, that’s what he kept saying. But he still wanted to protect Gaster from whatever was worrying him.

This worry though was his own.

Sometimes Gaster would go out to the balcony when he thought the elemental had fallen asleep and talk with someone. An Alphys. He hadn't met her yet but she sounded like Gaster. Excited about their shared topics, and worried about other things. Her worry this week was about a student of hers who needed signing. He wasn't sure what that was, but Gaster did, which helped whatever worry Alphys had. Then they were quiet for a long while, the elemental actually falling asleep before Gaster had come back in. That worry wasn't what he was focused on though, it was the names. They called each other Doctor, and these shorter names from their names, Gast and Alph - and he wanted one of those. The characters in the books he read had names. Every item seems to have a name of some kind too, like book and pan and well, elemental.

But Gaster wasn't Skeleton, he was W.D. Gaster. If the elemental was a creature like him then... shouldn't he have a name too?

The books didn't really tell him how to get a name. The characters already had theirs when the story began, but they must've come from somewhere. So he looked through all the books from this week. The stacks moved sides again, the right one to the left, then back again as he sifted again. It seems names could be given, like the nicknames were, like Doctor seemed to be too, but also the characters could choose their own. Sometimes they shed old names.

One of the fantasy books had a hero who did that, proclaiming it in front of the gathered supporters who saw how their work saved their burrow by blocking up the flood waters with their really fluffy fur, that had been something they were made fun of at the beginning of the tale. I'm not the scruffy bunny anymore! I'm the fluffiest one, and everyone will know me as that!

Their change was celebrated, and the elemental had nodded in agreement. They truly were the fluffy bunny.

So could he do that too? He didn't do some big thing like save his home but... he existed, and that felt like a good reason.

Today when Gaster left for school, the elemental did the start of his regular routine. He cleaned up after breakfast, putting those all to cool off to the side, but instead of doing the next part of his routine - looking out the window to watch pieces of other morning routines - he sat back down where his books where, and pulled all the ones he had marked especially for this day. He hadn't told Gaster he was doing this, wanting to surprise him. There were a lot of words on his list so far, the pages carefully folded in the corners - dog eared as Gaster called it when he saw the elemental doing it - so he could flip quickly to his favorites.

The books formed a neat semi-circle around him as he examined them closer. Names could be anything - they could even be an object name, but he already had one of those, so it was time for something more specific. He liked to cook a lot, so most of the ideas surrounded that line of thinking.

Pepper was the top contender. He liked adding it to their meals, liked the smell of it, how it made Gaster sneeze. He liked too how it could be multiple things - a spice, a vegetable, a color - but that also made him hesitate to choose it. It might be too broad. He was just one thing.

Maybe an action word would be better. There's peppery but I don't like that as much, he thought, setting aside the books with Item Names. He aligned their spines carefully, using small nudges to check in between each touch for any burn marks. He hadn't burned anything yet, but he knew he had to be careful anyways. Gaster is kinda an action-y word. G is a nice letter too.

He sorted through the G words, more books back to their proper stacks until a much smaller list was before him. He scanned through it, saying each name aloud to feel how it sounded, and to continue to practice speaking.

"Grinder." Hmm no.

"Glaze, Glazing, Glazed." No, he liked the 'gr' better.

"Gravy." Closer. But it was a bit off. He was... kind of gravy? Fire gravy. He made a face. Nope.

"Griddle." .... that was, getting there. The next one on the list was, "Grill."

"Grill." Oh he liked that! That had the 'Gr' and it was a cool action thing. The books about grilling food were really neat too. "Grill." It just... need something. The Y on the ends were nice, could he...? "Grilly. Grillsy, Grillty, Grill... Grillb... Grillby."

Oh.

"Grillby." He said again, fire warm, warm, warm inside his soul. That was it. That was it! That was him, he wasn't just an elemental, he was Grillby the elemental. Grillby! Grillby grinned, I can't wait to tell -

The door opened, making Grillby jump at how sudden and wide it flung, before Gaster hooked a foot around the bottom edge, and shut it behind him. A little click said he used some magic to lock it.

"Gaster!" Grillby greeted, getting up to collect whatever Gaster had chosen to take home for the day. It looked like this time it was a box of wires and tubes, probably connected to repairing the device he had been working on with Alphys. There were definitely more pieces though, Grillby peering into the box as he took over carrying it the half of the table they designated as "the work zone" with a long piece of tape to split the sides up. His soul was all fluttering, giddy to share his news but knew to wait first. It was best to stick with the routine, the schedule, before changing it up. "Tonight I was thinking we could try enchiladas for dinner. The books you got me this week had that recipe repeat a few times across them, and I think we have all the ingredients except for maybe tortillas. We might have used the last of them with breakfast - but we still have the green peppers and the cheese."

"Maybe if they're good you'd be able to take them for lunch. I mean," Grillby scratched the side of his head in thought, before pulling off his glasses to resettle them. "I can still make you sandwiches if you want those but this could be something more filling maybe? I feel like something more filling would be good."

The box was easy to unpack and place all the items into their designated areas, Grillby staring at the organization with a bit of pride making his fire curl delightedly, before turning back to Gaster who hadn't answered his question or responded to his greeting, who... who hadn't moved from the doorway actually. Grillby paused. He didn't know what that expression was on Gaster's face, still not the best at figuring out what the physical changes meant when the magic was right there for him to feel out for instead. Grillby definitely felt the magic. It wasn't the excited feeling or the worried one - maybe a little bit? - but something... sharp. Kinda like pepper. It made that protective urge bubble up.

"Is everything alright?" Grillby asked, moving away from the table towards Gaster, starting to scan around for any magic he didn't recognize, going through the motions that were as ingrained as the beat of his heart. Gaster locked the door so if someone followed up him, they'd have a hard time getting in - like I'd even let them get this far. This was his home. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to Gaster.

"Wh wait, wait, I'm s-" Gaster interrupted Grillby's thoughts with a sigh of frustration towards himself. "I'm sorry, it's. We're fine. Everything's.. well, everything's not fine but not something you need to defend or fight against. It's..." He stopped with another short sigh, a forceful one that tried to push the magic out of the air with little success.

Oh. Grillby relaxed his stance, confused. "If it's bad but not something I can fight, then what is it?"

Gaster stares for a moment, and that was familiar at least. That look said he had talked to that person on the phone, and learned something. With careful, exact words - that specific way of speaking he used to let Grillby know his frustrations were never aimed at Grillby - Gaster said, "I learned elementals aren't named, when they're - when they're created. And. You - all of them but, you - "

"I chose one." Grillby interrupted before those careful words got off track. Gaster stared again. "I uh, heard, I heard you and Alphys talking and wanted a name and chose one."

"Oh." Gaster kept staring, the rush of his frustrated magic vanishing in a little blip of surprise, as if whatever plan he had thundered in with was completely derailed. His next words suggested the same confusion as what Grillby felt in the skeleton's magic too. "Well that's. Good. I'm - really glad, that's. What is it?"

"Grillby." Grillby said, smiling in pride.

"Grillby." Gaster repeated, softly. Then he smiled too, a burst of magic that felt just like fire. "That's perfect, Grillby. You found the perfect name."

Grillby beamed, pulling Gaster further into the apartment as the warmth grew brighter and brighter from their combined delight. Gaster laughed, willingly pulled along, turning their motions into a little spin in the open living room space until they were moving and dancing just for the joy of getting to move.

"It's absolutely perfect Grillby!" Gaster repeated, and Grillby was certain his soul never felt so bright.

#undertale fanfic #grillster #grillby x gaster #grillby #gaster #w.d. gaster #lionwrites #operator au #yes this is 100% a trans analogy #because that's important to me #esp in this au #dehumanization tw #yeah there's not a lot of context thus far but I'll write a master post up of all that was going to exist for it #so it'll stop tearing pieces off my heart #but this one needed to be in full

8 notes · View notes

allegra-writes · 4 years ago

Text

“Heartfelt”

Bar musician! Harry styles x Bartender!Reader

General audiences

Warnings: None

Just some Valentine's day fluff with our favorite green eyed boy. Dedicated to @gaycinnamonrollgirl for giving me the idea, and @tomsrebeleyebrow for patiently listening to me endlessly gush about Harry Styles and still being my friend. Happy belated Valentine's day 💖

"You don't have to say you love me

I just wanna tell you somethin'

Lately you've been on my mind..."

Adore you - Harry Styles

...Oh, she looks so good, oh, she looks so fine

And I got this crazy feeling that I'm gonna ah-ah…

"Bartender, my good friend! I'll have my usual and a plate of your finest chips, if you would be so kind"

It was closing time when Harry, the local musician, sat in front of you, elbows on the bar you were wiping down while humming to Patti Smith's "Gloria".

You raised an eyebrow at him, but the willowy man could see the slight tremble at the corner of your lips, a tell that you were suppressing a smile.

"I'm afraid the kitchen is closed, mister Styles. Sam left an hour ago."

"Yes yes, but I have it from a very good source he left you a big pile of leftover chips before he did," He accused, "you know, as he does every night..."

You frowned in confusion,

"I thought you hated cold fries. That you found them to be, and I quote, soggy and disgusting"

"I guess you can say I acquired a taste for them" He shrugged, mischievous green eyes sparkling, "Just like you did for this lowlife songwriter in front of you and the heartfelt conversations you share with him"

"Did you now?" There was an edge of scepticism in your voice, but you were already disappearing inside the kitchen.

Harry's heart did a little jump as you didn't immediately deny liking him.

"Hey, Joe" he called out, "why don't you go home? I'll help Y/N close when we're done…"

There was a deaf noise as a young waiter, the only person left in the bar beside the two of you, set the last chair on top of a table.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I got this" he reassured him, "did it dozens of times. Go home to your girl"

"Thanks, mate!" The second brit practically skipped on his way to the backroom, but turned around just before reaching the door. "Listen, you know I like you, but if you hurt y/n in any way…"

Harry smiled, genuinely. He could never get mad at anyone that protective of you.

"You know where I live. Pick my sister on the way, though. I think she would like to join you."

Joe rolled his baby blues,

"I know you're not a creep. I meant her heart"

"Yeah, me too…"

Whatever your friend saw inside Harry's eyes was enough to convince him. He nodded and left, as the musician got up to lock the front door and turn the "open" sign off.

If you noticed Joe's absence at your return, you didn't comment on it, simply setting the giant pile of chips and two cans of cherry cola you were carrying, down in front of Harry, who had returned to his seat.

"Ah, you always have the good stuff!" the sigh that left his lips as he took the first sip of the soda was not unlike the one any of your regulars made after the first taste of something strong after a hard day.

"Rough night?"

"Kind of. Good show though, so at least I have that going on for me…"

"It really was, I'm actually impressed" You had to confess, "And surprised too, it was a bold choice going acoustic on a night like this, with such a big audience," So many people had gathered to see the show that the bouncer had to start rejecting people so you wouldn't have trouble with the fire department "but it definitely worked"

There was a slight blush on the singer's cheeks when he replied, far more humble than you were used to,

"Well, you know, Valentine's day and all that. The band, all have boyfriends and girls they wanted to spend the evening with…"

You tilted your head,

"And you didn't?" It was hard to believe, when almost every night he played there you would see him leave with a different, always sculptural, painfully perfect girl. Or man.

Harry didn't reply, choosing instead to stuff his face with stale fries.

"Alright then" You raised your shoulder in surrender, "keep your secrets…"

He squinted in disbelief,

"Did you just quoted The Lord of the Rings at me?"

"Did you just recognize my Lord of the rings quote?" You countered.

"You are such a nerd!"

"Look who's talking, chicken little!" You gestured at his powder blue sweater with a yellow baby chick at the front and herringbone pants.

"Oi!" His manchester accent popped out, like it always did whenever he lost his cool "I'll have you know, this is Gucci"

You scoffed,

"That doesn't make it any better, it just means that you spent a shit load of money to look like my third grade teacher, mister Harrington!"

"Ok, first of all," he countered, "your teacher sounds awesome and second-"

An inelegant snort escaped your mouth. Harry's emerald eyes pinned you down.

"Second of all, you're no one to talk either, kitten hoodie"

You could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks. Praying he couldn't see your blush in the dim light, you took a mouthful of soda to cool you down.

For a moment, none of you said anything, the sweet notes of Fleetwood Mac's "Dreams" the only thing filling the silence.

… Players only love you when they're playing

Women, they will come and they will go...

"Listen, y/n-"

"If I'm being honest-"

He chuckled,

"I'm sorry, ladies first"

"Now I'm not sure if I wanna tell you…"

"Come on" A grown ass man pouting should not be that cute, "I want to know"

You feigned a long suffering sigh,

"Fine, if you must know- If you must know, I actually like your new style. It's way better than that... rock and roll cliche... thing you had going on when we first met" You gestured vaguely in the direction of his body, "You know, the long hair, black clothes, doc boots…"

He flinched,

"Ugh, Don't remind me. I was trying too hard back then. And not only with my clothes, with my music too"

"Oh, yeah, I remember. All you used to sing about was" You chose your words carefully, "frisky girls and being horny…"

"Well, to be fair, I still sing about being horny"

"Yeah, but now you're…"

You trailed off, unsure of how you could explain the difference, the change in your feelings towards his music, without explaining the change in your feelings towards the man that made it.

However, Harry would not let it go that easy. He was used to you being sharp, opinionated, guarded. Now there was a crack on that armour, and he wanted to see what was underneath it.

You hadn't even realized how close you had leaned into each other until his hot breath fanned over your face.

"Now I'm what, y/n?"

More real. More mature. More emotional, as if he had finally found the link, made the connection between sex and love.

"More open"

Harry smiled,

"Open. Yeah, I like that…"

So close. He was so close now, his malaquite eyes were out of focus. So close you could feel his magnetic field, the gravity of his atoms pulling in yours.

"Harry…"

Never in his twenty seven years of life and over ten as a musician, had he heard a more beautiful sound than his name, breathlessly falling from your lips.

"Yes?" He murmured, lips ghosting over your soft, perfect ones.

"No"

"No?"

"No" You repeated, more firmly, taking a step back, putting as much space between the two of you as possible, "I know what this is"

"And what is this, y/n" To your surprise, he didn't sound mad, or demanding. He sounded confused and sad. Dissapointed but unsurprised, as if he had expected it to go south or… never had dared expect it would actually happen at all.

"A bad idea" You explained, "with guys like you, is always the same: You have beautiful women throwing themselves at you every night. And you take them home with you cause why wouldn't you? You are young, and free and hot. There is nothing wrong with taking what's being offered"

"Y/n-"

"I'm not saying it's your fault" You went on, ignoring him, "And I'm not saying you don't fall in love, sometimes. But that's the exception, not the rule, and I… I'm the kind of girl that's the rule. Not the exception"

Harry had always thought the worst that could happen to him was losing your friendship. Finally making a move, a real move, and getting rejected by you. He thought that was the definitive pain, the one that would obliterate him, if things were not to work out. And he was almost certain they would not work out.

But sitting there, in front of you, separated by a wooden bar that might as well have been the great wall of china as you stood there, arms around yourself, small and defenseless as you explained to him all the reasons why you wouldn't allow yourself to love him… that was way worse.

"What if you already were my exception?" He blurted out, before he could stop himself, "What if I was in love with you?"

You laughed, bitterly.

"Harry, I'm not even your type. I've seen you leave night after night with models and socialites and actors, each one more surreally stunning than the last one…" You didn't have a bad self esteem, you didn't. You considered yourself attractive, but the people Harry usually went for were on a whole different level.

"Yes, but that's only because the most absolutely perfect woman in the world for me, keeps me at arm's length!" He rubbed his face in frustration, "And it's so maddening, so fucked up, the way I can't even get away from her long enough to get over her, because even the pain of seeing her every night knowing I can't touch what I see, that I will never have her, is better than the pain of being away from her.

So I keep on taking home the hottest people I can find hoping they will keep me distracted long enough to fill the hours until I can see her again… until I can-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Never, in all the time you had known each other, had Harry given you a single signal indicating he had any kind of feelings for you. Your relationship had always consisted of friendly banter and quip battles. Sure, you could get flirty sometimes, but you were a bartender, flirting was pretty much your customer service voice, and he was a musician, he would flirt with his own shadow if he could.

Harry opened his mouth to explain, but a familiar melody started coming from the still working speakers.

Walk in your rainbow paradise

Strawberry lipstick state of mind…

"Hey, this is my song!" You didn't quite understand why he seemed so marveled, "You never added any of my songs to your playlist before!"

Oh. Oh.

"Yeah, well" Harry could now clearly see your darkened cheeks as you stumbled over your words, "I guessed I never liked one of your songs so much before"

This time, he was the one blushing and avoiding your eyes.

"What would you say if I told you-... If I told you I wrote this one for you?"

"I'd say you're full of shit" You scoffed, "Didn't you tell me you only ever wrote about girls you had dated?"

"No," he corrected, "I said I only ever wrote about women that had broken my heart…"

"How did I break your heart?"

Harry sighed. Your walls were back up, higher than ever, and he didn't know how to break through them. It wasn't your fault -and had it been your fault, truth was he could never blame you either, there was something about you that made it physically impossible for him to get mad at you- you spoke from experience, he didn't need to unlock the secrets of your past, didn't need the details. It was obvious you had been burned before, and though he hated it, hated them for whatever they had done to you, he couldn't fault you for trying to protect yourself.

Not when he wanted to protect you too.

"You didn't like me, back when we first met"

"Harry-"

"No, it's ok. You didn't like me, and you were right not to like me. I know you probably didn't realize it but, that first time you rejected me, when I flirted with you that very first night and you rolled your eyes at me… you changed my life"

"What? How??"

"You weren't wrong, I was a cliche. And I was trying way too hard, to be cool, act like a rockstar… but you took a look at that guy, at that though, playboy, sex, drugs and rock 'n roll guy… and you hated him" Harry snickered. You didn't understand what about all that was so funny, "I had created that guy so that everyone would like him, and you hated him. And the funny thing is-" He finally met your eye. No, he caught your eye and imprisoned them, "The funny thing is, you hating me for what I wasn't, somehow allowed me to start being myself a little bit more, because if you already disliked me… then I had nothing to lose"

You didn't quite know what to say to that.

His bright green eyes were unable to face yours, choosing instead to focus on the palms he was picking at,

"Is that why you… uhm…" You pointed at his sweater.

"Yup" He admitted, "I showed up here one day, on laundry day, in one of my old nerdy sweater vests and you smiled, when you saw it"

"I remember that!" You chuckled, "It was the brown striped one, it almost looked like a crop top, cause it obviously didn't fit anymore"

Harry nodded,

"I may have had a couple grow spurts since I got that in high school"

"Ok, but, you made it work somehow…"

"Thank you. The point is…" he turned serious again, his deep, rich voice even more hypnotic than usual. Or maybe it was just you, for the first time allowing yourself to enjoy it without reservations. "The point is, you didn't like cool Harry, but you liked the real me. Even if just a little bit, and that meant the world to me. I… I adored you because of it. So I wrote a song for you, cause even if I couldn't say it to your face, I had to get it out. Just like I had to get this out tonight"

He opened his arms wide, in his typical ta-da gesture, sad, resigned smile on his face, before getting up from his stool, grabbing his jacket and guitar case.

"You don't have to say anything, I don't expect you to love me back" He declared, "I just- I thought I'd let you know. Valentine's day and all that."

He turned to leave, his own voice still signing in the background,

I'd walk through fire for you, just let me adore you

Oh, honey…

"Harry, wait!" You almost fell on your face, trying to jump over the bar, but managing to stop him right before he reached the door. His poorly concealed smirk told you he might have seen your little show, but you didn't care.

"Did you mean it? That you'd do anything for me?"

"I did" He confirmed, earnestly, "I still do. Anything you want, just say the word"

"Well then," you took a step towards him, that he mirrored without even noticing, "what about a date? A daytime date. At a public place." You clarified. Harry did smirk at that.

"What's the matter, afraid you won't be able to keep your hands off me?" He teased, leaning closer.

"Don't ruin this, Styles" You warned, raising to your tiptoes to meet him eye to eye.

His smile faltered, replaced by the most sincere intensity you had ever seen on his handsome face,

"Wouldn't dream of it, bartender" He whispered, before capturing your lips with his.

#harry styles #adore you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #valentines day special

171 notes · View notes

hinatastinygiant · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter Thirty Two

Pairing: Mitsuya x Fem!Reader

Wicked Games Masterlist

For the night of the rehearsal dinner, you had asked Hakkai to give you a ride since your bike is absolutely demolished. He agreed and explained that along with him he will also have Yuzuha and Mitsuya.

You step yourself into a pretty ruffle dress you found laying in the back of your closet just in time before the doorbell rings. When you're ready, you walk over to the door and open it up to see Yuzuha's bright smile beam on the other side.

"Oh my God, Y/N, you look super cute!" she gasps as she takes your hand and spins you around. She's got on a knee-length light blue dress that looks just like something Mitsuya would design.

After the two of you exchange compliments, you look past her and see Mitsuya through the driver's window. He's closely watching the way you move as you show off your dress to your friend.

Once you grab your belongings and lock your door behind you, Yuzuha begins to lead you towards the car. "Do you think you could talk to Takashi tonight?" she hums in a whisper.

"Huh? I'm not ignoring him or anything... Did it seem like I was?" you ask worriedly.

"No, no, it's not like that. He's just been kinda... down lately. I'll explain more later," she tells you as she opens the car door for you.

You slide in and smile at the two guys in the front while Yuzuha shuts the door. Then, on the way to the dinner, all you and Yuzuha can talk about is how exciting it is that Emma is actually getting married. It makes you happy that you're able to be genuinely excited for your friend without having guilty thoughts plague your mind any longer.

When you arrive on site, a new, modern-looking brewery, you are absolutely awestruck. The inside is lined with green and pink flora throughout the walls and furniture while four round, wooden tables are spread out across the private room you're walking into.

The first people you meet are Emma and Draken. Emma squeezes you tight and whispers a "thank you for all of your help and support" while the hug you give Draken is still somewhat awkward. However, the compliment that he gives you causes your cheeks to swell and heat up.

"Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate how you did your best to look out for me even after I called you a traitor. Like Mitsuya said, we really should have put our faith in you more," he breathes.

"It's nothing," you smile up at him as you pull away.

You're then suddenly ripped away from him as Yuzuha takes your hand and guides you over to an empty table. The second you sit down, an employee comes by and places two champagne glasses before you.

"Thanks," Yuzuha giggles as she accepts the unexpected drink.

"Thank you," you hum as the employee nods and walks away. Almost immediately, Yuzuha takes a sip from one of the small glasses. "Do you think it's a good idea for you to be drinking?" you ask, a bit worried that she might get carried away after the insane week she just had... Not to mention that this was supposed to be her rehearsal dinner.

"Please, Y/N," she sighs. "With the week I had, I need it."

"Just don't go too crazy, alright?"

"I won't," she promises. "But if you're going to be worried about someone, you should worry about Takashi. He's been staying over at my and my brother's house since the incident. The worst part, though, is that he hardly says a word.

She then takes a second to look around before lowering her voice into a hush. "I've been trying to comfort him as best I can, but I don't know what to do. I thought maybe you could get him out of this funk. Maybe you even know what's bothering him."

"I have no idea," you admit to her. All this time you thought that he was the one comforting her, not the other way around.

Just then, Hakkai sits down beside Yuzuha with a glass of wine and a big smile across his lips.

"Woah, look at you Hakkai," Yuzuha teases. "Plan on getting wine drunk?"

"No. I'm going to drive on the way back so it's just this one glass for me," he nods before taking a sip from the glass.

"What about Takashi?" you ask. "He drove us here."

"That dude needs a drink more than anyone else. I mean look at how worked up he is over here," Yuzuha nods to him behind you.

The three of you look over and see Mitsuya desperately attempting to talk to Mikey, who's just not having it. Could they possibly be having the same conversation you wanted to have with Mikey?

"I'll go talk to him," you tell the two of them as you rise from your seat. "I'll be right back."

You walk over and interrupt the conversation between Mitsuya and Mikey with an innocent "Hey, guys. What's up?!" Something that sounds totally fake considering that the last time you saw Mikey he almost punched your lights out.

The two of them both look back at you with a deadpanned expression, as though you really did just walk in the middle of a weighty conversation. However, you do your best to act as though you're completely oblivious to it in the hopes that maybe you can casually ask Mikey the questions you're yearning to ask.

Mitsuya nods. "Uh, hey, Y/N."

"What're you guys talking about?" you wonder politely.

"Nothing," Mikey shakes his head. "The conversation was over."

"No, wait, please," Mitsuya calls to Mikey as he grabs his shoulder, a gesture that makes you stiffen in fear. "Mikey, I really need to know."

"What's, uh, goin' on?" you chuckle nervously, wanting to hear the answer as well.

Mikey looks directly at you as he chooses to ignore Mitsuya for his own benefit. "The Second Division Captain needs to get it through his head that the incident from the other day is over. Hanma got rid of Chikao for us and Kisaki is gone. It's over."

With that, Mikey ripes his shoulder out of Mitsuya grabs and walks off.

"What was that about?" you ask Mitsuya who sighs in disappointment.

"Something's off about Han-" he begins, only to stop as he looks over at you. At just about the same time, an arm wraps lazily around your shoulders. You look to your side and find Hanma hovering right above you.

"Hey, you two. What's goin' on?" he grins. Mitsuya narrows his eyes at Hanma. "Calm down, dude. We're cool now, I've righted my wrongs. And Mikey, Emma, and Draken are all fine with me being here, so you should be, too. Besides, I missed my inconsiderate little girlfriend who didn't ask me for a ride tonight."

Your blood begins to boil but evaporates into thin air as Hanma pats you on the head before just casually walking off. Mitsuya, however, still looks as though he'd love to punch him again.

"You got a second?" you then ask him, secretly hoping to calm him down a bit, too. "It's been a few days, I think we should catch up."

He collects his breath as he turns back to you and nods politely. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Wicked Games Masterlist

Taglist: @darkmess0 @wakasa-wifey @plaggi @daiserenade @lunastellanova @sseorin @jinchuriki-hunter @sh4gree

19 notes · View notes