#i wish her and the group the best but i'm so removed from this group now
Text
And they call me crazy (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only
Word Count: 5.8k
Warnings: SMUT, Rough sex, Non-con elements - reader is drunk and a (very eager to fuck) hostage, Light bondage, Oral, P in V, Unprotected sex, Edging, Canon typical mentions of murder and violence
Summary: You're a new intern at Senator Goff's office. It's going great... that is until Vigilante abducts you after you've been out drinking, celebrating the end of your first week. (Based on this ask from anon.)
A/N: I'm fucking impatient as usual and I couldn't wait until Sunday to post this. I've added non-con to the warnings but honestly, reader is so desperate to fuck him she DOESN'T GIVE AF if it's morally questionable that she's a hostage.
Masterlist
Join my tag list: @likeficsinthewnd, @she-wolf09231982, @pretendfan, @lolitstiana, @chiaraanatra
Chapter text:
Your gasp is stifled when a black glove covers your mouth and an arm wraps tight around your body. You stumble on the sidewalk, teetering back in your high heels into your assailant’s body but he holds you firmly upright.
“Don’t scream,” says a man’s muffled whisper in your ear.
Your whole body freezes up. God, you wish you were more sober. Why did you insist on walking home after those celebratory drinks? This is not the perfect ending to the first week of your internship that you’d envisioned. Is this why Senator Goff didn’t turn up for work today? They said he was sick.
“I’m not gonna hurt you if you keep quiet and get in the car.”
It’s a man’s voice. Not one you recognise. But you can barely hear it anyway over how loudly your heart is beating in your chest. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, it seems to say, battering frantically against your rib cage.
“Nod if you understand me.”
You jerk your head forward - his tight grip doesn’t make the movement easy.
God, why didn’t you listen to your Mom? She told you earlier to get a cab home and stay safe, you’d just dismissed her advice as usual because you knew best.
He removes his hand and pushes you into the open passenger door of a beat-up old Chrysler Sebring. It all happens so fast that you don’t even think to check out the license plate.
Shit.
The man shuts the passenger door after you and hops into the driver’s seat on the other side.
It’s him.
You’ve seen his masked face on the news, wanted for carrying out his own brand of retributive justice on criminals across Evergreen. You heard people talking about his latest crimes at work today. Hell, you’ve even made stupid memes about having a crush on him in your girlfriend’s group chat.
It’s Vigilante.
You were ready to beg for your life a second ago. But now all you can do is stare. At the forefront of your admittedly inebriated mind is the fact that you’ve fantasised about the masked Vigilante of Evergreen before. But in your fantasies, you’d always been someone that he’d saved from a robbery gone wrong or some other sticky situation. Not his abductee.
And this is no fantasy. He’s here - he’s real. So intimidatingly tangible and human. You can hear his breathing through his mask, see his eyes darting around your dark surroundings checking for passersby, and you can even smell the sharp, fresh scent of his cologne when he gets close to you, reaching behind you to grab a length of rope from the back seat.
“Put your hands out.” You swallow thickly, looking at his masked face. There’s no point in arguing. “If you make any indication to anyone we pass that you’re you’re here against your will, I will kill you.”
“Listen, I don’t know what you think I’ve done but I-”
“Hey - don’t make me gag you and put you in the trunk,” he says, finishing the knot around your wrists as your stomach does a little flip. Not out of fear. Something else. He turns his keys and starts the ignition. “Oooh, seatbelt! Sorry.”
You breathe in as he reaches across you to grab your seatbelt and clip you in. Your hands sit uncomfortably on your lap as the car drives out of the dark street and onto the main road.
He pulls out his cell phone as he drives to wherever you’re going and you hear the other end of the phone ringing in the silent car.
“What is it?” You strain your ears, listening as a woman answers aggressively.
“I’ve got Goff’s assistant. I’m on my way to the video store.”
Goff’s assistant? That’s a stretch. You’re an intern. And not even Goff’s intern. You’re his assistant’s intern.
“I’m not-” you start but he cuts you off.
“Quiet!”
“What?!” says the woman on the phone.
“Sorry, Harcourt. Not you.”
“No, I mean you did what?! Vigilante, you need to run this shit by me. You can’t bring her here.”
“I did you a favour! We’re way ahead of schedule now.”
You hear the unidentified woman grumble. “We’ve got Judomaster here, dumbass. Take her someplace else.”
Goff’s funny little bodyguard. Now you know that Vigilante and the woman on the phone are responsible for Goff’s absence. Shit, what’s he going to do when he realises you know nothing?
“Where am I supposed to take her?”
“That’s what happens when you go rogue, idiot. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. She’s your problem tonight.”
You hear the line beeping as the woman hangs up.
“Fuck!” says Vigilante and he does a U-turn. “Hey, close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“I’m gonna have to take you to my place. I said close your eyes or-”
“Yeah, you’ll kill me. I got it,” you say resignedly. You close your eyes feeling the car turn left, straight for a while, right, left… you lose track. You have no idea where you are or how long it takes you to get there when finally you arrive at your destination.
You hear him get out of the car and still not daring to open your eyes, you feel the cool night air when the passenger door opens.
“Can I open my eyes?”
“Nope.”
You feel him reach over you to unclip your seatbelt and he hoists you out of the car by your upper arm. He roughly steers you across what you guess is a parking lot by the way your high heels click on the asphalt.
His vice-like grip on your arm still doesn’t relent, even when you reach the stairs.
“Not so fast - I can’t see!” And you’re still kind of drunk.
“Shh! Not here,” he whispers urgently. But his hold on you becomes more gentle as he helps you up the stairs, more slowly now. A sliver of empathy.
The sound of keys jingle as he unlocks a door and guides you inside. You hear him locking and bolting the door behind you. Great.
“Can I-”
“Yeah, you can open ‘em.”
You open your eyes. The small apartment is sparsely furnished, obviously decorated by a single man. No artwork on his walls, a small dining table, a clean but worn leather couch without even so much as a throw pillow.
The screech of wood on laminate makes your arm hair stand up as he pulls over a hard wooden chair into the middle of the living room.
“Sit.”
You do as you’re told. He pulls another chair over and sits down opposite you, leaning back, with his arm resting on the back of the chair. Vigilante’s intimidating form relaxes casually in front of you.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he tells you.
“I - do what the easy way?” You shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together. What wouldn’t you want Vigilante to do you right now? Stop it, you scold yourself.
“You’ve got information and I need it.”
“I really don’t have any sort of information.”
He edges his seat closer to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne again. Fuck. “Hey, I get it. I was tortured for intel a few days ago and I didn’t crack either-”
“Torture?!” You panic now. “Look, I’m not lying - I’m not Goff’s assistant! If I knew anything I’d tell you.”
His eyes narrow behind the mask. He pulls out his phone, looking through it for something. “Shit.” Vigilante looks from his phone to you. “This isn’t you.” He holds up the screen and shows you a blurry picture of your boss walking out of the office. Sure you look alike - you have the same hair colour and both wear suits to work but she’s significantly older.
You shake your head.
“What were you doing coming out of the senator’s office?” He accuses, as if it’s your fault he’s kidnapped you.
“I’m an intern. It’s my first week.”
“So you work there? Right?” he asks desperately.
“I just get coffee and take notes, dude.”
He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Oh man, Harcourt’s gonna freak out when I tell her I fucked up again. I can’t believe I picked up the wrong hostage.”
You sit, wrists still tied together in your lap staring at him. Now what? Maybe he’ll just drop you off outside the bar where the grabbed you.
“Look, we all make mistakes. It happens to the best of us. No harm done so-”
“Stop.” He looks up at you. “You know I can’t let you go.”
You take a deep breath and look at him silently for a few seconds. “So now what? Are you gonna kill me?”
“I-”
‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’
Vigilante looks at his phone, apparently confused that it isn’t the source of the music.
“It’s mine,” you sigh, embarrassed by your choice of ringtone. You try to pick your phone out of your suit pocket with tied wrists.
“Your ringtone is Barbie Girl?”
You nod.
He pauses, giving you an unreadable look from behind his mask before reaching into your suit pocket. “I can’t let you have this.” He declines the call. Your phone pings as a message arrives. “Someone called Melanie says ‘Your boyfriend is on the news again’,” he reads.
Fuck. Your best friend Melanie knows all about your stupid crush on the man sitting in front of you right now.
“Hey- don’t read my messages!”
“I need to know if your boyfriend is gonna come looking for you.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, I swear. She’s just making a stupid joke.”
Your phone pings again. “She’s sent you a picture - what’s your passcode?”
“I said don’t read my messages. I’m not telling you my passcode.”
Vigilante sighs and turns your phone around to face you and your Face ID unlocks it. He freezes when he opens the image.
Oh, god.
He turns the phone back towards you again and you groan. Melanie has taken a picture of the news on her TV. Vigilante is on the screen. Shit.
“I told you, it was just a stupid joke,” you mumble, feeling your face turning scarlet.
“I didn’t realise you were a fan,” he says, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he has a stupid grin under his mask.
“Well, I’m definitely not a fan right now.” You hold up your wrists.
“She can see you’ve opened it. What should I say back?”
“Hmm... say LOL…” He starts typing. “Call the police. I’m being held hostage.”
He deletes what he just typed and gives you a stern look. “Fine, I’ll just go through your messages and see what you said before.”
“No, wait! I was kidding!” You try to snatch the phone from his hands but his reflexes are too quick for your tied hands. He doesn’t have to scroll very far back through your messages to find what he’s looking for.
Vigilante laughs and starts reading aloud. “OMG, he is so fine… I’m just gonna say that again.” He sends the message and you hear the notification of Melanie responding almost immediately. He reads it aloud. “She says ‘Knew you’d appreciate it - wink emoji’.”
“Can you just kill me already?” you ask sarcastically.
He puts your phone in his pocket. “I’m not gonna kill you.”
“So what am I doing here then?”
“Waiting. For now.” You stare at each other for a few seconds. It’s hard not to feel like you’re in immediate danger. “Do you want a beer?”
Perhaps your life isn’t in danger.
You blink at him incredulously. He walks over to the refrigerator and returns with two beers. He opens yours and hands it to you.
“Can you untie me so I can drink it?” You ask, testing the waters.
“Are you gonna try and attack me and escape?”
You’ve never been in a fight in your entire life. There’s no way you’d be able to win in a physical altercation with him, not with his reputation for massacring criminal gangs.
“No.”
Vigilante looks you over, and you stare up at him, waiting for his assessment. “I could take you, anyway,” he says casually and puts down his beer on the coffee table so he can untie your wrists.
You feel yourself blushing again at his words. Vigilante could take you. He means in a fight. But your mind immediately thinks of him taking you in another way.
When he unties you, you rub your wrists, feeling the sweet relief of having them free again. Vigilante kicks back on the couch and gestures to the seat next to him. You move over and perch uncertainly on the cool leather. He lifts the bottle of beer, and then realising he’d need to remove his mask to drink it, puts it back down.
“You can take it off if you want,” you suggest.
“And let you see my face? No way. I have a secret identity.”
“Well, I bet you’re handsome under there.”
What are you doing?
The sensible voice at the back of your mind supposes that flirting with him might convince him to free you. Another slightly louder, drunker voice in your head suggests that flirting with him might convince him to fuck you.
He looks away, flustered. “I dunno about that...”
“That’s why you wear that mask, right? You’re probably so good-looking you’d be easy to spot in a line-up.”
He lifts the edge of his mask - you think for a second he’s about to reveal who he is but instead, he takes a long drink of beer. You watch his sharp jaw and exposed neck as he swallows and get a brief glance at his wet lips before he pulls the fabric back down over his face again.
“That mask doesn’t do you any favours, hiding a jawline like that.”
“Stop it, okay. I know what you’re doing.” You raise your eyebrows. “You think because you’re pretty, you can seduce me into letting you go. It’s not gonna work.”
Pretty.
You try not to smile, to keep your expression blank. You wish you could text Melanie - she’d lose her shit right now. But you’ve laid it on a bit too thick. Even though it is true - he does have a ridiculously nice lower half of his face.
“I’m just passing the time. Believe it or not, I’ve never been abducted before.” You shrug. “So what’s the plan? Stay here until your boss on the phone tells you to kill me in the morning?”
“She’s not my boss.”
“Sounds like she is.”
“I work alone. Mostly. Or with Peacemaker.”
“So let me go then. I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”
“It’s not that simple. I can’t just release a hostage.”
You think. Hard. “What if I could get you the information you need? Then I’m an accomplice. Not a hostage.”
“I thought you just got the coffee?”
“I know where my boss keeps her laptop. And her password.”
“What kind of boss tells a brand new intern her password?”
You purse your lips, wondering how much you can safely reveal to him. “She trusts me.”
“The way you want me to trust you?”
“It’s different… I just don’t want her to get kidnapped too.”
He tilts his head. “That could work.” He hesitates. “But I’ll need to double-check with Harcourt in the morning.” He spins his bottle of beer in his hands.
“I’ll give you the laptop’s location and password if you let me see your face.”
“Uh, no. You’re giving me the location and password in exchange for letting you go.”
“This is a hostage negotiation, right?” You give him a coy smile. “Let the hostage do some negotiating.”
“No way.” He lifts the bottom of his mask up again to take another drink.
“What if I suck your dick, will you show me your face?”
Vigilante chokes on his beer.
“Jeez! I’ve already told you that you can stop coming onto me. I’ve agreed to ask Harcourt to let you go.”
“I know. I’m just shooting my shot,” you smile, resting the beer bottle on your bottom lip. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“Yeah, right.” He says though you can’t help but notice the way his visor-covered eyes linger on your lips.
“Dude, you saw my messages. I’ve always wanted to bump into Vigilante. Under different circumstances, obviously.”
This intrigues him. He turns in his seat, resting on the arm of the couch to face you. “Uh, what kind of circumstances?”
“Well, if you really want to know - they’re in my texts with Melanie.”
He looks at your phone again, opens your messages and starts scrolling up. His eyes widen as he pauses, reading. “Damn…”
“Which one are you reading?”
“There’s more than one?!” His voice is higher pitched this time and you grin. “Uh… ‘I wish we’d bumped into Vigilante when those guys were harassing us leaving the club last night. He would have kicked their asses and I would have-’... Holy shit.”
He adjusts himself in his seat and you can tell he’s hard just from reading your text exchange. You tilt your beer towards him encouragingly. “You can say it.”
“...‘I would have sucked the fucking soul from his body.’ Girls say this kind of shit to each other?”
You sip your drink and say nothing.
Vigilante looks at you like you’re a piece of cake he really, really shouldn’t be thinking about eating. “It would be morally wrong for me to sleep with a hostage.” He looks into your eyes.
You edge closer to him on the couch. “Accomplice, remember? I’m not a hostage if I work with you, right?”
“Listen, you are so hot. And if I met you in real life… fuck. It would be a different story.”
“This is real life.”
“You know what I mean.”
You get on your knees and crawl over to him between his legs. He shrinks back into the corner of the couch cushions. “C’mon. I won’t tell your boss.”
He swallows nervously. “You’re making it really hard for me to say no right now.”
You run your fingers over his belt. “Say you don’t want me to and I’ll stop.” Vigilante groans. You crawl forward again and press your forehead against his masked one, looking into his visor. “Tell me you don’t want me to suck your dick,” you whisper.
“Fuck…” He breathes. “And they call me crazy.”
“Maybe you should be more careful who you let in your car.”
His gloved hand grabs your wrist and for a second you think he’s going to make you stop but instead, he guides your hand onto the bulge through the fabric of his pants. Vigilante leans his head back, exposing a tiny glimpse of his neck between his mask and his suit. Your tongue finds the skin there, sliding across it and you feel him shiver underneath you.
It’s like he’s at your mercy now as you slowly, agonisingly slowly, undo his belt revealing the v-shape of his lower abdominal muscles covered in a smattering of brown hair. You slide your body down between his legs and kiss the trail of hair below his belly button while your hands work, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxers down.
Vigilante’s cock slaps his stomach when you release it from his boxers. Shit, you have a lot to work with. You’re already wet between your legs just from your conversation but the sight of him sprawled out in front of you - his entire body concealed with the exception of his hard cock - sends blood rushing to your pussy.
You lick your lips and the moment your tongue slides across his head, you feel his whole body tremble.
“Holy shit,” Vigilante whispers raggedly from behind his mask. He lifts his head to watch as his length disappears into your mouth, and you look up at him with wide eyes and hollow cheeks, sucking and running your tongue along the underside of his cock.
He grunts as you pull back to run your tongue slowly around his head again. His reaction makes your pussy ache with longing, thinking about how he’d sound with his mask off, moaning like that in your ear.
“Fuck, that’s it. Thaat’s it,” he says through gritted teeth as you find a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down. He threads his gloved hands through your hair - you think he’s going to start fucking your throat but you’re surprised when he doesn’t apply any force, letting you maintain your pace. Vigilante watches you on all fours, your ass in the air behind you as your mouth makes the wettest, sloppiest sucking sounds he’s ever heard.
Then he sees it. A glimpse of your hand under your tailored work skirt, confirming to him again that this isn’t just a ploy for early release. You’re really fucking turned on by being here, sucking his cock.
“Wait…” he whines, tugging gently at the base of your scalp. You pull back, replacing your mouth with your other hand so you can look at him. “Can I fuck you?”
You pull away and bite your lip, still pumping your hand up and down the length of his cock.
“You said you’d show me your face.” Time for your one last bargaining chip.
“I…” He hesitates, propping himself up on his elbows. “I can’t,” he pleads.
“You’ll have to cum here on your stomach then,” you grin, your wet fist picking up pace as he tenses his thighs and tries to stop his hips from jerking up into you. “If you show me your face I’ll let you cum inside me.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groans. You stop jerking him off and watch him as he pulls his mask off, tossing it aside on the coffee table. He takes a pair of glasses out of his pocket and puts them on.
You stare at him in shock. You were mostly just teasing him earlier- you hadn’t actually expected him to be this good-looking. Sure, you knew from him drinking his beer earlier that he had a nice jawline. But even in your fantasies, he was faceless - he never had gorgeous green eyes and tousled curly hair.
“You’re hot?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. “What the fuck!?”
He smiles. And you can see it this time. It’s beautiful. He has dimples.
The intimidation you felt before when you first saw the masked killer in front of you is nothing compared to how you feel now. You practically melt, turning into putty. Feeling lightheaded you realise you’ve been holding your breath and begin making a conscious effort to breathe again. Seconds ago you were convinced he was at your mercy but now…
“Do whatever you want to me,” you say abruptly. Your underwear is flooded thinking that this man, this ridiculously beautiful killer wants to fuck you.
“Oh… I’m gonna.” He raises his eyebrows and lunges forward, pinning you to the couch and kissing your neck. His rough exterior armour digs into your chest. Your hands wander along his shoulders, trying to find the mechanism to unclip it. He feels your movements and pushes himself off of you so he can undo them himself.
You lie back, watching him remove his suit, revealing a host of white scars and purplish-yellow welts across his toned chest and abdomen. You undo the top two buttons of your blouse.
“Nuh-uh,” he says, tossing his under armour onto the floor. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabs the opening of your shirt and rips it open, sending buttons scattering across his floor. He pushes your bra up, not bothering to take it off to suck on your tits.
You run your fingers through his curly hair, feeling him sloppily run his tongue over your nipple. His teeth clamp down on your breast - hard - and you squeal and yank his hair.
“Ow! Not so rough!”
He just gives you a mischievous smirk and you release your grip when he sucks the spot gently, in a sort of silent apology. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise tomorrow - a secret souvenir of your night with the masked man from the news all your friends know you have a crush on.
But Christ, what have you let yourself in for?
Vigilante moves down your body, kissing your stomach and pulling off your skirt and underwear in a single movement, throwing them haphazardly on the floor. You gasp when his mouth returns to your body and a soft, wet heat envelopes your pussy. He drags his tongue slowly, carefully along your slit.
“Oh fuck…” you whine, arching your back. “Vigilante, I- wait, fuck, what do I call you?”
“Vigilante,” he says between achingly slow licks. Every nerve ending seems to light up, sending blissful signals to your brain.
“No, I - I mean what’s your name?”
“Vigilante.”
God damn.
You look down and lock eyes with him, his pupils blown so wide his green eyes almost look black as he stares up at you, swirling his tongue in wide circles against your swollen clit. The entire lower half of your body tightens up and the walls of your pussy clench, desperate for something to squeeze around. His fingers, his cock - anything.
You reach down to find his large, gloved hand and tug at the fabric, trying to pull it off him.
He pulls his mouth back and removes his glove with his teeth.
“Is this what you want, baby?” He asks, running a single finger through your slick, wet folds and over your clit.
You nod.
“Beg for it.”
“Please, Vigilante.”
He sinks two fingers deep in your cunt.
“Is this what you fantasise about?” His questioning makes you tighten around his fingers as he draws them in and out of you. Your breathing quickens in time with his fingers pressing against that sweet spot deep inside your pelvis.
He stops abruptly and the whine that escapes you is pathetic.
“Answer me.”
“Y-yes,” you moan. “Every night.” You wriggle, trying to fuck yourself on his stationary fingers.
“Finger fucking yourself like this?” He curls his fingers up into you again.
“Mhmm.”
“Use your words.”
“Yes, fuck, just like… like this.” You bring your hand to your clit and start rubbing yourself in an obscene demonstration for him as he watches from his kneeling position, one hand between your thighs.
You’re close now, you can feel your orgasm burning up inside you as your cunt starts pulsing more consistently around his digits and your breathing gets heavier. Just as your release is about to crash over you, he withdraws his hand and grabs your wrist, moving your hand away from your clit.
“Wha-?” You pant dazedly. “I was just about to-”
“I know,” he smirks. “Not yet.”
Fuck. He’s fucking edging you.
His lips meet yours for the first time and you moan softly into his mouth. His tongue rolls against yours and you can still taste your sweet and salty juices on him.
Then, without warning, he flips you over and you gasp wordlessly face down on the leather couch in stunned silence. He pulls your hips back and up towards him.
“Fuck, Vigilante,” you choke, lifting your head up and arching your back, your brain working hard to regain awareness of its surroundings.
The weight of his body presses down on top of you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna forget my face in a line-up.”
Fuck.
He takes his cock and drags it over your soaking wet entrance, flushed and swollen for him and the broken sob that escapes you is desperate.
“Please,” you beg again. “Just let me cum.”
Vigilante sinks into you with a forceful jerk of his hips and your pussy seizes up tight around him as your face is forced onto the cold leather again. You try and push yourself up onto all fours.
“Nuh-uh, I like seeing you like this,” he says with another forceful thrust, knocking you off balance. “Hands behind your back.” You huff and do what he says, his still-gloved hand pinning your wrists behind you. “I shoulda just kept you tied up, huh?”
You can’t answer, you can’t move, you can’t do anything except just take him. Sparks of electricity reignite inside you, the deepest you’ve ever felt it as he pounds into you, hitting just that right spot again. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder and when you see Vigilante biting his lip in concentration your walls start pulsing and squeezing around his cock.
“Not… yet.” He grunts. “Not ‘til I say.”
He pushes down on your wrists and it feels like all the air is being knocked from your lungs with every roll of his hips.
“Fuck, you’re such a… pretty… little… hostage,” he groans through gritted teeth, each thrust punctuated by his praise.
“Yes…” you whine because it’s all you can manage to say. It’s all you can think. That one singular confirmation repeating over and over again in your head - it’s all you want to be for him. Fuck, you’d happily spend the rest of your life locked in his apartment, letting him use you like this every time he came home after a night of murdering criminals.
Your eyes roll back in your head, fireworks rocketing and exploding into a million bright pieces. If there’s a heaven, it would look like this - a beaten-up leather couch in a shitty apartment in downtown Evergreen.
His other hand that’s free of his glove and not pinning you down reaches round and starts working your clit with rough, calloused fingertips. You squeeze your eyes shut, not realising they’ve been watering. Real tears leak from the corners, leaving your face a wet mess on the leather seat. You choke out a sob, not sure how much longer you can fight against your orgasm.
“Shh, shhh… it’s okay, baby. You can cum. Let it all out for me.”
And you do.
Everything goes dark and you’re lost in the pleasure that takes over your body, your climax wiping your mind blank of all thoughts except Vigilante. Your pussy clamps down hard like a vice around his cock as you squirm on his fingers. It’s only when you feel him shudder and collapse on top of you that you realise he’s come undone too.
You both lie there for a second, feeling the warmth of your combined mess leaking out and the sound of him panting, exhausted.
“Vigilante…” you say in a strained voice, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?” he exhales and takes another gulp of air.
“You’re crushing me.”
“Oh.” He hoists himself off of you. “Let me get you a towel.”
With difficulty, you sit back upright to wipe your eyes and fix your hair. Vigilante returns with a towel and you sit on it, grateful for the barrier between you and the wet, sticky couch cushion.
He throws himself back down beside you. “Whoo, I’m beat!” he says cheerfully. “What do you wanna do now?”
You look at him uncertainly and glance at your watch. “It’s one in the morning.”
“Right, cool. Do you wanna sleep on the couch or-”
‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’
Who’s phoning you this late?
He picks up both of your phones from the coffee table. “It’s mine,” he says and accepts the call. “Hello?”
Wait - his ringtone is Barbie Girl too?
“It’s me,” says the same voice of the woman who called him earlier. “Have you dealt with the hostage yet?”
Vigilante looks at you and hesitates. He swallows. “Yeah. It’s done.”
“So she accepted the bribe? You’ve got the laptop?”
His eyes widen. “The bribe? Oh! Yeah, sure! The bribe...”
“Vij, you didn’t kill her, did you?”
“What?” He lets out a maniacal laugh. “You’re crazy, Harcourt, of course I didn’t kill her. What’s the, uh, budget again?” He winks at you and makes an ‘ok’ sign with his thumb and forefinger. He’s insane, you think.
“I dunno, like five grand?”
“Phew! Then yes, it is all dealt with. Done and dusted. I will get that laptop.”
“You don’t have the laptop yet!? Vigilante, you need to get the laptop before you hand over the money, idiot.”
“Copy that,” he grins.
“Vigilante, what the f-”
He hangs up, cutting her off and tosses his phone aside.
“Good news. I can let you go once you give me the laptop.”
“And the five grand?” You raise your eyebrows.
“Wait, you heard that?!”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Well not until you give me the laptop.”
“I can get it tonight if you need it? We just need to swing by my boss’s house before you drop me off.”
He frowns. “Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. I need to… need to take you home.”
You tilt your head to one side and look at him fondly. You fix his messy curls and he closes his eyes at your touch. “Or… I could stay here tonight? Pick up the laptop tomorrow morning once you’ve fixed me some breakfast?”
He perks up. “I could do that! …You’re one hundred per cent sure you can get it though, right?”
You sigh and extend your hand. “Give me my phone.” He does and watches you go through your contacts.
The line rings and a familiar but slightly croaky voice answers.
“Honey, it’s one in the morning. Is everything alright? Did you get home okay?”
“Hey Mom, I’m fine. Listen, I think I forgot to send an email before I left the office and I can’t sleep worrying about it. Can I pick up your laptop first thing tomorrow?”
She yawns. “Sure thing. Don’t get stressed about it. Just go get some sleep.”
“Thanks, boss. I love you.”
“Goodnight sweetie. I love you too.”
You grin as Vigilante gapes at you.
“Goff’s assistant… she’s your-?”
“Yup. Now c’mon, show me where your bedroom is.” You stand up and reach your hands out, waiting for him to guide you. You step on one of your shirt buttons as he leads you towards the hallway. “You owe me a new shirt, by the way.”
“I just made you five grand. Use that to buy a new shirt,” he says, opening the bedroom door.
“Hey, what happened to the hostage negotiation? These are the terms of my release.”
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” he smirks, shutting the door behind you.
#vigilante x reader#vigilante#adrian chase x reader#vigilante peacemaker#adrian chase#vigilante x you#freddie stroma#fanfic#peacemaker#vigilante x female reader#adrian chase x female reader#adrian chase x you#adrian chase imagines#adrian chase x y/n
567 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Wish You Would | N. Hischier
1989 tv masterlist
pairing: Nico Hischier x fem!reader
word count: 1.1k
warnings: none?
summary: After you and Nico had an argument, you two are brought back together.
not my gif!
“Nico please-”
“Please what, schatz?”
“I just wish you’d-”
“What? What do you want?”
“I can’t do this right now.” The call ended quickly, pressing the end call button within seconds before immediately regretting it.
“Shit.”
The call back you sent went straight to voicemail, the next five after that too. All of your messages left unanswered, all calls sent to voicemail, all your follows removed from his socials.
“Come on, one night, you’re always with Nico anyways you can leave it for one night to have a few drinks with us!” Your best friend encouraged, holding your arm as she begged for you to join.
“Fine.” You agree, grabbing your wallet from the nearby counter before following her out.
Your group of friends meeting up at a random bar in the city, dancing the night away in the bar, sipping drinks all night. 2am was when it really hit you, it had been three days without Nico and it was torture.
The ringing of the call in your ear, your head in your hand as your other held the phone to your ear.
“Nico?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as he answered.
“Schlatz?” His voice was groggy, clearly having just woken.
“I’m sorry, it’s two am you don’t deserve this. I'm so sorry I miss you and I want to go home.” Your words slowly progressing to a sob.
“Where are you?” You could hear the shuffling on the other side of the line as you muffled a sob.
“Blitz.” Your voice barely audible but Nico knew, he knew your friends, he knew where they’d take you.
“I’ll be there in five.” He spoke quickly, moving to gather his keys and clothes as he ended the call.
Your body sat, shaking, on the sidewalk, waiting for Nico. His car pulling forward quickly, his body jumping from his seat to you instantly.
“God, Schlatz, what are you doing? Let’s go.” He urged, his arms pulling your body against his.
The car was quiet, the windows down while you drove past your street. The memories flooding your mind, glancing at Nico from the corner of your eye.
“Nico, I’m sorry, for that night-”
“It’s in the past.” His voice interrupting yours, continuing to drive straight.
His hand on his back lead you inside, giving you his spare room until the moring. Until you’d leave not knowing how to handle it. Nico’s thoughts running wild with the assumption of your hatred towards him.
Two am, your room filled with the light of the street, lying on your bed willing sleep to overcome. The passing of headlights grabbing your attention, returning your thoughts back to Nico. Two weeks had passed and he still flooded your mind.
Wishing he’d come back, wishing you’d never hung up that call, wishing Nico knew that. Wishing he was right there.
It was the only way the nights would go, wishing on every star that he’d come back, he’d hear you out. Wishing that you’d both remember what you were fighting for.
I wish we could go back and remember what we were fighting for. Wish you knew that I miss you too much to be mad anymore. And I wish you were right here, right now.
The message was never meant to send, typing it out as tears flooded your waterline at the dreaded two am. Yet, it sent, you couldn’t even remember hitting send until the morning when you saw the words delivered underneath.
“Oh no, no.” The panic urging your voice to rise, staring at your phone in defeat. The message quickly turning to read in front of your eyes, throwing your phone off to the side when it hit.
Your phone buzzing from its place on the floor, across the room now, while you sat with your knees to your chest.
And you stayed like that for as long as you could, waiting half an hour before moving, your head in turmoil as you moved. Leaving your phone in favor of making food, making far too much to condone your stress. The choice was made early to stay in all day, it was a sweet off day that you had no plans on, so the plan to binge all your favorite movies was perfect.
Your phone stayed discarded on your bedroom floor, ignoring all messages of the day, ignore Nico’s reply.
The banging on your door waking you, groaning as you moved from your spot on the couch, the space you had fallen asleep while watching your movie earlier. Glancing at the clock on the stove as you passed, two am flashed your vision.
“No way,” Your voice was quiet, growing louder to yell at the door as you approached. “Whoever is here at two am you better have a death with!”
The sound of his laugh echoed through the door, stopping you in your tracks. Your next steps slow, opening the door quickly to see him. His body leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
His movements quick, standing up and uncrossing his arms, his body pushing into your house. Moving you from in the doorway, pushing you back into your house as he shut the door behind him. The only light coming from the soft light above the stove emitting from the kitchen, flooding through the doorway that lead to it.
“Nico.” Your voice was a breathy whisper, getting caught in your throat.
“Did you mean it?” His face in the dark, his hair falling in his face, he was something out of a fairytale.
“Fuck Nico, I wish you’d come, wish I’d never hung up the phone like I did, wish you knew that I’d never forget you as long as I’d live. I wish you were right here, right now, it’s all good. I wish you would.” You paused, catching your breath before continuing, Nico’s hands holding your waist now. His grip tightening with each word. “You always knew how to push my buttons, you gave me everything and nothing, this mad,mad love makes you come running.”
“Schlatz,” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper as his hands gripped your hips. “I’m here, I’m never leaving.”
His lips found their place on yours, melting your body against his. Your hands running through his hair, his hands moving to lift you, carrying you to your room.
“I can’t believe you didn’t answer me this morning, I could’ve had you all day.” He mumbled, breaking the kiss before peppering your face in more.
“I was scared! That message wasn’t supposed to send!” You grinned, tugging at the end of his hair.
“Well I’m glad it did.” He grinned, hovering over your body where you laid on the bed, where he’d thrown you.
“I’m glad it did too.”
His lips found their home against yours again, pressing his body against yours. His wordless promise to never leave again.
#nico hischier#nico hischer x reader#nj devils#new jersey devils#mads writings!#nico hischier imagine#nj devils imagine#nhl imagine#mads' 500 celly!
382 notes
·
View notes
Note
AITA for hiding a new relationship from our friends?
My friends (A (F20), B(F18), and E(F18)) and I (F18) are freshmen in college. A few weeks into the beginning of the year, E & I started hooking up (FWB situation) and A & B got together (more serious, but an open relationship). Eventually E clearly got fucked up about some stuff happening at home and we stopped having sex because I was concerned it was affecting our friendship/was uncomfortable with how we were interacting-- this was amiable. shortly after B became very irritated with E's behavior (mostly her behavior toward me), started being rude to her and attempting to remove her from our group (made E's anxiety worse-- she was throwing up constantly).
One night the three of us were drinking without E so that B could have some vent space (I disagreed with a lot of what she was saying, but this was the situation I was in) and when B left to go to their dorm for the night I stayed in A's room for a while to sober up. During this time A and I hooked up for the first time. A told me not to tell E or B until she felt more sure of her feelings.
The next morning, E asked me point blank if I had been with A + B the night before and I told her I hadn't. Later, she saw us kiss (while we were all drunk)-- I panicked, kissed her too, and told her not to tell B. She asked me later if anything was happening between A and I and I told her no. Throughout all this, A + B were still together, although A was spending more and more time with me. I'm a naturally flirty person, so B suspected something and started being cold to me.
Finally, about two weeks later we tell B and then A. B takes this very badly and doesn't talk to any of us anymore (she spoke with A shortly after but spent most of the time calling the two of us names), while E sort of shrugged it off but has been a little weird. E says that she thinks B has a right to be upset because part of B + A's open relationship was an agreement that they would say if they started hooking up with other people, and B saw me as her best friend here after her relationship with E fell apart. A + I think that it's fair to want time to explore a brand new relationship before you tell your friends, plus I was just respecting her wishes about who we told and when. I never lie, and told E that I would never lie to her outside of this situation, which was just because A asked me to. B + E don't talk and A + E have a tense relationship now. E (still my best friend after A, although we r much more distant now) says that she's worried about A hurting me because of how our relationship started.
I'm worried that our friend group falling apart is my fault. AITA here?
(Bonus-- A + I are together now and still hang out with E a lot. A has ADHD and is really slow at getting ready to go places. Sometimes that means that, even with my best efforts, we're an hour+ late to plans with E and she has to wait for us alone. AITA for this?)
What are these acronyms?
190 notes
·
View notes
Note
HI! 🤍
Mick + (loving) Fan + fluff
I know you said just one Word but i was thinking about how would be if Mick Falls in love with a Fan 🥺
Fan | MS47
⸺ the one where it's her birthday and besides the paddock passes, she got a date.
✓ mentions of throwing up and anxiety, but nothing graphic or major.
⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (closed)
⁕ my masterlist and my taglist
When Yn's best friend told her their friends came together to get her a birthday gift she had been waiting for her whole life, she did NOT expect it to be paddock passes. Vip and all.
It took her the whole trip to Austin; she was still in awe even then. Still trying to gather how loved she was, even though a little nagging voice would try to tell her otherwise. Her friends knew she loved Formula 1, knew she wanted to go to a race for a long time, and knew how this would be the best birthday she ever had.
That's how Yn found herself wrapped in her favorite coat, wearing her favorite pair of jeans and beat-up Converse, trying to keep her body from jumping excitedly like a little kid who's about to meet their famous Disney character.
In reality, she was just a young adult about to meet her favorite driver if the circumstances helped her.
"Tell everyone how you're feeling, Yn!" her friend, Debra, who volunteered to come to Texas with her, was recording everything to their friend group chat.
"I'm actually feeling sick, I- what if I throw up on Lewis' shoes??? Omg- and what if-" Her mind started to go places and Debra chuckled with the camera in her hands, holding Yn's shoulders with her free one.
"Yn, calm down! It's gonna be alright, you'll see," Debra reassured.
And off they went. They were able to meet Russell and Carmen who was a sweetheart with the pair of friends, they thought it was cute how nervous Yn was, so nervous she called George by Carmen and started rambling about how much she loved Mundt's Instagram account. Then it came Charles Leclerc and even Debra was a bit thrown off by how handsome and friendly he was. They met a bunch of other drivers and members of their crews, everyone but Yn's favorite duo: Lewis and Mick.
Luckily for her, Debra was on a mission, and she practically dragged Yn to the Mercedes garage before it was impossible to get a glimpse of anything. And as it happens, it only took twenty minutes after Lewis was spotted for the small garage to start gathering some people in its front. He was extremely attentive, wished Yn happy birthday, and went as far as to tell her he would try and get her a birthday podium to which she almost burst into happiness.
"Are you ok?" Debra asked right after the exchange with the eight-time world champion.
Yn nodded, but her friend saw the way her chest puffed in a deep breath, "I'm just- a bit anxious... too many people around now," Yn explained, pointing behind her back, "I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick, wait for me in here. I'll be back in a sec."
Off she went, but instead of running to the restrooms, Yn made a beeline in the direction of the motorhome. Behind it to be more precise. Where no one was around, and all the noise seemed to lessen a bit.
She sat on the ground, back propped against the wall of the motorhome. The hum helped to calm her nerves. Yn took off her shoes, feeling the cold ground under her feet, and taking small breaths.
"This is real. It's really real, and I deserve this nice reality," she whispered to herself, thinking back about how lucky she was in that sea of fans.
"Huh- hi?"
"Ok, now that's not real, total creation of your anxious mind," she mumbled to herself, staring up and down the blond guy in front of her.
Mick snickered.
"What's with the shoes?" he asked, and Yn moved her hands to the ground now.
"I'm just trying to ground myself, to make my body believe what's happening is real. My fingers are pretty cold now, but for some reason, I still can't wrap my head around this minute right here.' She ranted nervously, and Mick removed his signature black Puma shoes, sitting right beside her.
He carefully bumped their shoulders, "It does feel nice, I have to give you that."
Yn nods, bracing her knees in front of her body and staring ahead.
"Were you anxious?"
"A bit. I don't know why, I'm usually good with too many people." She explains.
"I get exactly what you're saying."
"Is this really happening or am I hallucinating? Can you pinch me?"
Mick chuckled and pinched Yn's arm.
"Do things like this usually happen with VIP people?" Yn asks after a beat. She wanted to question Mick about a bunch of things outside racing, she wanted to know his favorite color for real, his favorite food, and something he liked to cook, and if he collected something from his travels, she wanted to hear something random about him that people probably did not bother to ask or didn't care enough to pay attention to, yet that was all she could manage: is it common? those interactions?
And his answer surprised her. Not only his spoken words but his roaming curious eyes, "nah, the passes usually just grant you a picture and a quick 'how are you' if you're lucky."
"What am I then? Since we're exchanging more than the small talk.."
Mick's pink lips curled in a smile, "I can think of a few things I wanted you to be." He glances down at her, eyes scanning her face, before adding, "My date to watch today's race, for example."
There was silence for a beat and then Yn's booming laughter embraced them, "Ain't no way Mick Schumacher is flirting with me. I really must be hallucinating. Oh- what if I threw up on Lewis shoes and passed out and now I'm dreaming to make myself feel better while Debra tries to wake me up?"
It was Schumacher's turn to laugh.
"You have a beautiful laugh," she pointed.
"You too," the blonde shot back.
This time when their eyes met neither of them tried to shy away, instead their lips curled in a smile. Something passed between that stare, and Mick and Yn knew with certainty that was the start of something new and beautiful.
― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: HI, I AM BACK, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT <3 Make sure to reblog and leave me a comment, love y'all *mwah*
#millies inbox#mrscevans#ms47#mick schumacher#f1 x reader#One word a thousand stories blurb night#op: blurbs#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher fluff#mick schumacher blurbs#f1 blurbs#millie writes#f1 fandom#f1 fanfic#requests#f1 imagine#mick schumacher imagine#mick schumacher x you#mick schumacher one shot#queued post
243 notes
·
View notes
Note
How did you and B meet?
I'm sure I've talked about this before, but here's the Official Story from our reception invitations:
Erica met B through their mutual friend G while rock climbing at the Austin greenbelt in April of 2019.
Erica had just purchased a new camera and 80% of the photos she took that day were of B. She shyly sent B the best ones and noted he was a lovely subject. B said, “thanks bro” and used those pictures for his Bumble profile.
It was an auspicious beginning.
At the time, B was living and working in Austin while Erica was a PhD student in Dallas. She often visited “home” to see her parents and climb, so they met up regularly over the next two years.
When the pandemic hit, Erica moved back to Austin to work on her dissertation, and isolated with a small group of climbers that included B. They also started playing D&D together.
Erica’s character was a chaotic neutral half-elf bard who cast spells and cantrips exclusively via limerick. Her go-to solutions to problems they encountered were seduction, inciting political rebellion, befriending monsters, and stabbing.
B played a lawful good half-elf paladin who found Erica’s character extremely vexing.
In real life, however, they had quite a bit in common, and started spending time alone outside of group climbing and D&D meetups. Later, they would discover they had a mutual romantic interest at this point, but neither acted on it since Erica had accepted a visiting professorship in Colorado. She moved in July.
When Erica returned briefly to Austin over spring break the following year, she spent most of her time with B: climbing, hiking, grilling at her parent’s place, and staunchly denying there was anything happening between them even if she wished there was because honestly, mom, he's never shown the slightest bit of interest in me (her father scoffed loudly from the other room).
She decided to move back to Austin at the end of the school year. When B (and G) came to visit her a few weeks before she moved, Erica decided to be brave and make her intentions known. While watching a UFC fight with B on the couch, she tucked her toes, lasciviously, under B’s thigh.
Shockingly, he did not respond to this unequivocal romantic overture. But he did help her remove all the temporary wallpaper on her ugly rental cabinets before they left, so that was nice.
The following month, when Erica moved back to Austin, B asked if she’d like to come over for dinner after climbing. She agreed because she wanted to procrastinate unpacking and also she was slightly in love with him. The following day, he asked if she wanted to have dinner again. She did.
“Wow,” Erica said to her mother that morning, “I guess B is really lonely since G moved. He’s been asking me to hang out with him a lot.”
“You're an idiot,” her mother said.
That night, B asked Erica if she'd ever thought about them dating.
“I’m thinking about it now,” she said, cavalier, suave, blasé, and not nervous at all.
This wasn’t a lie, but she had also thought about it once or twice prior to that moment as well.
“Great,” B said, “How would you feel if I kissed you?”
And Erica said, “Yeah, I’d feel pretty good about that.”
A few weeks later, B casually showed Erica an empty shelf in his bathroom cabinet and an inviting space in his closet and a couple spare drawers in his dresser and she, equally casually, moved in with him.
Over the next year, the apartment’s decor and Erica’s diet improved drastically. They traveled, they climbed, they spent time with each others families. They lived, laughed, loved and reduced, reused, recycled. Shortly after moving into their new house, combining bank accounts, making each other their medical powers of attorney, solidifying their retirement plans, and discussing whether getting married would have tax benefits, they realized most people got engaged before doing…a good portion of those things. So they planned to propose to each other.
Christmas of 2022, they took a road trip across Colorado. B proposed to Erica on the gondola in Telluride; two days later, Erica proposed to B on the Train to Cascade Canyon in Durango. They both said yes.
In August 2023 they will elope, with their dog Deacon as a witness, to Mt. Rainier national park.
In November 2023, they’ll celebrate with their friends and family at a backyard reception that will include food, drinks, swimming, croquet, corn hole, axe-throwing and a bounce house (the axe-throwing and the bounce-house will be on opposite sides of the lawn; if it's cold, the pool will be heated). They hope you’ll come and share their joy with them.
189 notes
·
View notes
Text
His Diamond: Chapter 6 (Anthony Bridgerton x plus size!fem!reader)
✨Masterlist✨
✨Previous Chapter✨
Anthony and Y/n's honeymoon was filled with fun, relaxation, and many conversations.
The last week of their honeymoon, Y/n felt as though she'd miss this time with Anthony. She enjoyed having his undivided attention, but she knew it couldn't last.
On the second to last day of their honeymoon, the couple was taking a stroll through the garden together. Y/n leaned her head on Anthony's shoulder as they strolled. Anthony gently squeezed her hand, "Where is your mind, dear wife?"
Y/n smiled softly up at Anthony, "I'm here, just feeling conflicted."
Anthony raised an eyebrow at that, "Conflicted?"
Sighing softly, Y/n nodded, "I have enjoyed our private time and I wish it could continue, but I do miss our family."
Anthony understood, he felt the same way, "I understand."
The trip back to the Bridgerton estate felt far too long to Y/n, near the end her knee was bouncing. Anthony rested his hand on her knee, "We are almost home, Viscountess Bridgerton."
Y/n placed her hand over his, "I guess it's just dawning on me that I'm a viscountess, I do not know how to be a viscountess, your mother and I didn't have time for that between the wedding planning."
Anthony kissed her deeply, doing his best to quiet her mind, delighted when she kissed back, "Darling, my mother will teach you everything you need to know. You were born to be a viscountess, I know it."
Their kiss had helped Y/n feel grounded, "Thank you."
The new couple's arrival home was a joyous one. They were enveloped in a massive group hug the moment they stepped out of their carriage. After a minute or so, the group let them go and hugs between individuals were shared.
Y/n hugged each sibling; Colin squeezed her tight, Hyacinth and Gregory both told her how much they missed her, Francesca hugged Y/n close, Eloise gave Y/n a soft hug, as did Daphne.
Benedict was the last sibling to embrace Y/n, he whispered to her, "I haven't seen him this happy since our father passed, thank you." Y/n pulled back from the hug, nodding that she understood.
Y/n smiled softly, "Thank you." She was glad that she could give Anthony any kind of happiness.
"Dearest, where is my hug?," Violet asked, causing Y/n to turn around.
Y/n quickly wrapped her arms around Violet, "I missed you."
Violet laughed softly, holding her daughter-in-law close, "I missed you too, my darling girl. Tonight we relax, but tomorrow I will start teaching you how to be a viscountess."
Everyone retreated inside, where Y/n and Anthony were the center of attention, being asked many questions about their honeymoon.
Later that evening, after a lovely dinner, Anthony had gone to his study to get some work done.
Y/n tried to rest, but it felt odd, different bed and all alone. She couldn't sleep without Anthony next to her. Y/n stood up from bed, ready to persuade him to come to bed.
Y/n softly knocked on the door of Anthony's study, poking her head in, "Anthony, are you coming to bed?"
Anthony looked up from the ledgers he was working on, "I have a lot of work to do tonight."
Y/n walked behind his chair and rubbed his shoulders, "You've been in here for hours, come to bed."
Anthony sighed, "Y/n, I can't, and I hate to say it, but our honeymoon is over. I have important work to do, more important than sex." He wanted to take that back as soon as it came out of his mouth.
Y/n removed her hands from his shoulders, "You mean more important than me." She walked to the door, she'd had enough.
Anthony quickly got up from his chair, "That's not what I-," he was cut off by Y/n closing the door. He groaned, wishing he'd just gone to bed.
✨Next Chapter✨
Taglist: @unholyhuntress @faatxma @sarahskywalker-amadala
171 notes
·
View notes
Text
Finn Wolfhard x F! Reader
Fluff, Actress/Famous AU ☆
Florescent
It was a normal interview so far for the Stranger Things cast. Regular sly questions trying to find out more on the upcoming volume. The whole time you found your eyes drifting to Finn. His smile and stance are so intoxicating.
"So what about you, Y/N?" The interviewer cued the cameras toward you. Everyone's eyes glanced over at you, Finn included. The corners of his mouth slightly turned up when he made eye contact with you.
"Uh- Yeah. Filming this season has been an adventure...sometimes you think you become a part of the viewers because you are also watching the story unfold" You removed your eyes from Finn and towards the camera.
"Are you implying the Duffer brothers don't inform you fully?" The interviewer adjusted his voice. "Yes and no. It's like watching the show, you hear the script, and have your predictions, but you still are following that storyline" You smiled, feeling Finn's breath on your ear.
'Fuck why did he have to sit next to me?" You bit your bottom lip keeping the emotion from showing on your cheeks.
"I agree, even though I'm the actress playing the character, I feel like I connect to the story" Sadie chuckled, causing a chain of "Me too's". The man, positioned in the interviewer chair, shifted his index cards.
"With this new season comes sprouting romance. For instance, Will pining after Mike and we even get a glimpse of Argyle and Susie's older sister. Some fans have noticed--more like created a thing called screen tension, where the 2 actors in a scene have tension rather than the characters"
You're eyebrows quirked at the new phrase. You glanced around to look at everyone's reactions. Finn's eyes seemed trained on you, he smiled when you looked at him. Almost as if time stopped and your heart sped to the future.
You studied his expression, adornment no, infatuation no we're just cast members. You swallowed the lodge in your throat, pulling your attention away. Finn's smile slumped down in confusion, he wished he could read your thoughts.
"Kind of like Y/N and Finn~" Millie teased, her voice perking up. You smiled, feeling your cheeks temperature slip from your fingers. "Perfect example!" Noah clapped while laughing.
The group exchanged looks. "No me and Y/N are the opposite of scene tension. I don't even think about her that way or look at her that way..." Mike furiously blushed as he awkwardly scratched his nape. His eyes going to you, looking for reinsurance.
"I don't know- Season 1 and 2 Finn would say differently" Millie chimed, grinning. "What would 12-year-old Finn say?" You questioned out of pure curiosity.
"Can we please move on?" Finn flexed his jaw, looking at the interviewer. Everyone (besides you) seemed to have past knowledge on this joke. They laughed, mutually agreeing that flustering Finn on LIVE tv wasn't the best decision.
_________________________________
You're body guards helped your walk out the crowded door. Fans lined the street, waving, throwing notes and flowers. "Oh Y/N!" Finn grabbed onto your arm, pulling you at his side. "Can we talk?" Finn looked up at a person pointing a camera at you.
You nodded, taking his hand and pulling him closer for the photo. The photographer shared his gratitude. You waved toward the last group of fans before reaching your black SUV.
Finn reached for the door, holding it open for you. You got in, turning in the seat to wait for Finn. "So what is it?" You pushed his brunette curls out of his face. "What Millie said in the interview-"
"It was just a joke, we are very close friends it was bound to happen" You shrugged. "...It wasn't and you deserve to know at least. But when I was younger I had this stupid crush on you" Finn laughed, rubbing his palms over his pants.
You went stunned. "Really?" Were the only words that could mutter out. "Yeah. And I still do" Finn's smile faltered when he saw your eyebrows raise. "I wanted to tell you myself before Millie did"
Finn grasped the door handle. You tugged his shirt, pulling him back with one hand and cupped his cheek with the other. Your lips touch his, they were soft, slightly thin. But the emotion swirling through one exchange had your heart racing.
You poked your tongue at his bottom lip, pushing your lips deeper onto his. His hands lingered over your waist. "I do too" You mumbled, averting your eyes away from the contact.
"Can I kiss you again?" Finn stuttered, pulling your face back into his view. "Anytime" You replied, leaning into his touch.
Masterlist
#x reader#fanfic#fluff#finn wolfhard#finn wolfhard x reader#finn x reader#finn fluff#mike x reader#mike fluff#finn wolfhard x reader fluff#stranger things fluff#stranger things x reader#stranger things mike x reader#stranger things mike#actress au#famous au
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
andy barber + halloween = ? 👀
it's fun being bad
Pairing: College!Andy Barber x female!reader
Summary: matching halloween costumes leads to Andy showing you a fun time
Warnings: pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart), slight sir kink, use of handcuffs, smut; unprotected sex. Cop and robber costume.
Authors note: Okay, we’re having some college!Andy because Halloween with him would be the spookiestsexiest time. (word count: 1.5k)
Kinktober masterlist 2022 / college!Andy masterlist
“Could you have found a shorter dress?” your friend laughs as you walk into the crowded kitchen.
Halloween on campus was no joke and everyone took it seriously. And by seriously, it meant the girls wore something revealing and the boys wore something tight.
You laugh back as you take the drink she offers you, “who’d have thought the ideal outfit to wear whilst robbing someone was a dress that shows your ass and tits?”
She laughs with you, stopping when her eyes glance over your shoulder, a sly smile spreading her lips “oh I get it now. Heads up, think you’re about to be arrested.”
With that, she leaves you standing alone. You try to contain your smile, knowing exactly what she was referring to.
“Excuse me, Ma’am?”
You giggle quietly before composing yourself and turning around. Your eyes drag slowly up his body from the tight black pants that hug his thighs and the handcuffs hanging from his belt loop to his overly tight blue shirt whose buttons are practically tearing at the seams.
Your eyes travel further, biting your lip at how much his beard has filled out and wishing his beautiful blue eyes weren’t shielded by a pair of aviators.
Giving him your best innocent look, you clasp your hands behind your back, your breasts almost spilling out of the low cut of your dress. “what can I do for you, officer Barber?”
He clicks his tongue, removing his sunglasses so he can take you in. His eyes linger a touch on your chest before travelling down your body. You watch as lust takes over his eyes when he takes in your black fishnet thigh-highs and knee-high boots.
Andy sighs before his eyes are meeting yours again, “I’m afraid you’re under arrest.”
“Is that so, can I ask what the charge is?”
He steps closer to you, one large hand settling on your waist as he pulls you against him. “You’re under arrest for being too fucking sexy,” he growls in your ear.
You throw your head back with a giggle as Andy begins to chain kiss across your jaw. He makes his way to your lips, capturing them in a searing kiss. His other arm wraps around you, lifting you off the ground. You don’t even care that your dress has ridden up and you’re pretty sure your ass is out.
The sound of whistling and hollering behind you has Andy reluctantly pulling away from your lips and placing you back on the ground.
A roll of his eyes and a curt "shut the fuck up" has the rowdy group of frat boys behind you going back to minding their own business.
You reach for your drink on the side, holding his gaze as you drain the contents, "you gonna put me in cuffs, officer?"
A shiver runs down your spine at the way Andy's eyes darken. You damn near collapse when he bites his lip.
"My naughty girl," he purrs, "I'm gonna have you in nothing but the cuffs."
Before you have a chance to take in his words he lifts you over his shoulder and heads straight for the stairs. You give your friends a little wave as he carries you past them like you're nothing more than a ragdoll.
"You might want to turn the music up."
"Andy!" You laugh as he swats your ass and continues up the stairs, grinning at the cheers coming from your friends.
"It's 'officer' to you, honey."
You can’t contain your giggles as he carries you towards an empty bedroom, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the thought of what's to come. Andy keeps you on his shoulder as he locks the door to the room he’s found before dropping you onto the bed.
Another round of giggles escapes you as you bounce on the soft mattress. Leaning up on your elbows you bite your lip as you take in the sight of him.
“What are you going to do with me, officer?” you tease, brushing your heeled foot slowly up his leg.
“That depends, honey,” he begins, his hand coming up to slowly unzip your boot. Pulling one off before doing the same with the other as he continues, “are you going to be good for me?”
He begins to take off your fishnets, his lips brushing each bit of revealed skin tenderly. You have to bite back a moan at the feel of his beard scratching your skin. You wait until both your legs are bare to give him your answer.
“Why would I be good when being bad is so much more fun.”
The smile he shoots you is wicked and his next movements happen in a flash. He kneels on the bed, pulling you up into his lap and claiming your lips with his own. Andy breaks apart from your lips only to pull your dress off, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he takes in your dainty lace underwear.
His lips connect with yours again, it’s less rushed but no less passionate. Andy gently lowers your body back down to the bed before he begins slowly kissing and nipping his way down your body.
Your back arches as he bites and pinches your nipples through the thin material of your bra. He continues down your body and by the time he’s pulled your panties off and thrown them somewhere in the room, you’re a withering mess.
Before you’ve even had time to catch your breath, Andy flips you over onto your stomach. He pulls your hips back until you’re resting on your knees with your shoulders resting against the bed. You yelp when he lands two hard smacks on your ass, feeling your arousal against your thighs.
“Hands behind your back.”
You do as you're told, biting your lip when you feel the cool metal clasp around your wrists. You welcome the weight of Andy’s body as he leans over you, brushing your hair to the side and whispering in your ear, “just say the word and I’ll undo them, okay?”
You smile, turning as much as you can to look at him, “okay.”
He smiles back, leaning in to give you a soft kiss before pulling away again.
You feel the bed shift and hear the sound of Andy’s belt coming undone. The anticipation is killing you and you can’t help the whine that slips past your lips.
“Still going to be bad?” he asks, kneeling behind you again. You can feel the material of his trousers against the back of your thighs and the image of him fucking you completely naked whilst he’s still fully clothed has another wave of arousal flowing through you.
“Well, I don’t know, officer. You’ve not really given me a reason to be good,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis.
You expect him to shoot back some witty retort but instead, he knocks the air from your lungs when he thrusts into you in one hard stroke. He doesn’t give you time to adjust and to be honest you’re so turned on he doesn’t really need to. His pace is slow and hard, letting you feel every inch and every vein.
“Fuck, Andy,” you moan, fingers grasping at the sheets.
He slaps your ass hard, “think you’re forgetting your manners, sweetheart.”
“Sorry, sir,” you whine, clenching down hard at the resulting growl.
“Fuck, keep calling me that, baby.”
His request is surprising but not unwelcome and you make sure to add it to your pleas and gasps.
Andy’s hands have a bruising grip on your hips as he pulls you back to meet each of his thrusts. Your muscles ache from the position and the tension of your upcoming orgasm and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Please, sir,” you beg, desperate for him to push you over the edge.
“My naughty, filthy girl,” he grunts, planting another smack on your tender ass, “you gonna be good, baby?”
“Yes, sir. Promise, sir,” you sob when one of his hand's curls under you, his deft fingers connecting with your clit and sending shockwaves through your body.
“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, mesmerised by the way your thighs begin to shake, “be a good girl and come for me.”
“Fuck,” you almost scream as your orgasm tears through you, “thank you, sir.”
“Fuck,” Andy growls, his hips stilling against your ass as he comes deep inside of you.
Once he’s caught his breath he slowly pulls out of you, smoothing his hands over your tender skin. He quickly unclasps the handcuffs, rubbing your sore muscles as he guides you to lay on your back.
“How was that?” he grins, laying beside you, his hands never leaving your body.
You smile up at him with a lazy grin, “it was perfect… Sir.”
He chuckles, leaning down to kiss you, “keep that up and we’re going again.”
You join in with his laughter, your fingers toying with the plastic badge pinned to his shirt.
“Why did you want to dress as a cop? I thought defence lawyers were supposed to hate cops”
He laughs, kissing your wrists tenderly, “I just wanted a reason to handcuff you.”
I love college!Andy so damn much! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. As always comments and reblogs are super appreciated ✨🖤
#kinktober 2022#andy barber#college!andy barber#college!andy#andy barber x female reader#andy barber x y/n#andy barber x reader#andy barber x you#andy barber fic#andy barber smut
672 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nobody's Girl - Chapter Eight.
Fuck it, it's Friday, I'm feeling generous, have another chapter! Enjoy, besties!
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven
Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed
Words - 3,145
Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!
Hundreds of times. Hundreds? She didn’t know why, when infidelity was infidelity, but having the assumption that he’d only partook of a few extra marital dalliances shattered by the fact that it had been over a hundred women throughout the eighteen-year span of his marriage, was suddenly so much worse to bear. Especially when he’d surmised it as “a few” when confessing that to her.
Hundreds was far from few.
Not really knowing what to do or where to go, she wandered through the rooms, hearing her name called eventually when she got to the sprawling lounge.
“Dolly, hey. You alright?” Greta asked gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned, the woman feeling her heart sink. “No, you aren't. Come on, come here.” She let herself be pulled into the hug, crying further, feeling tumultuous inside. “Scared, huh, that he’ll do the same thing to you.”
“No... maybe... oh, god, I don’t know,” she sniffed, pulling back, thanking Greta for the handkerchief she offered. “He says it’s different with me, that he hasn’t cheated and doesn’t plan on doing so either. Am I stupid to believe that? When he told me he’d been unfaithful in the past, he left out the part detailing exactly how much. He said a few, Greta. Hundreds is not a few!”
Her friend sighed through a sad smile, her eyebrows drawing up, eyes full of sympathy for the poor girl. “I can’t answer that question for you, toots. All I can say though is, and I dunno if this is wishful thinking or not, but maybe he’s got it outta his system now? He’s forty-three, more grown than he was back in his twenties when he and Fil got married. Maybe he just didn’t wanna scare you by being so candid with the exact number?”
She was attempting her best to stick a dressing over her pain, and while Emily thought such charity was very indicative of Greta’s kind nature, it wasn’t what she needed. “Do leopards ever really change their spots?”
Shrugging, Greta called upon a few examples. “Well, the man used to chain smoke like a chimney, but quit two years back since he said, and I quote, ‘I don’t think my chest is meant to fuckin’ rattle when I breathe’, which he noticed went away the less he smoked. S’why he always has the...”
“Toothpick,” Emily finished for her, “to distract himself from wanting to light up. Yeah, he told me about that. It isn’t the same, though. Smoking is a habit.”
“So’s fucking other women, dolly. Habits can be broken, if you want it badly enough.”
Sighing, she looked down at her feet for a second, lips pursing as she twisted them from side to side, still under the duress of discomfort though her tears had finally stopped. “It’s the fact he glossed over it that bothers me more than anything.” Leaning to Greta, she kissed her cheek. “Thanks for being a good friend. I’m going to take a little walk; I need to calm down.”
Her walk took her across the property over to a long line of trees, a dirt road that looked to lead down to a group of outbuildings. She’d have taken the lake, but she didn’t want to run into Luca on his way around it with the kids. Besides, she wasn’t ready to face him yet.
It was conflicting to her, having virtually no temper, always preferring the calm approach regarding conflict and now being left with nothing but fury in her belly and the desire to slap his face for downplaying his infidelities. Why had he lied? If he’d opened up enough to tell her in the first place, be candid, then why was he hiding the complete truth?
Her mind could only go to one place; the place of him knowing deep down, he’d probably do it again. That was, if he hadn’t already.
Fear shunted through her veins like a freight train, the distressing thought of losing him because he couldn’t be faithful to her. The pain of it crushed her fragile spirit, and that was only in imagining what it would be like to discover his deceit. It flew in stark contrast to the fact that Emily well knew his gaze towards her was fonder than anybody else, save his children. Love came in at the eyes and took a path directly to the heart, and every time he looked at her, she felt it beam his adoration right into her chest.
Truly, she had no reason to doubt his sincerity, and she honestly had believed him when he’d sworn he hadn’t ever been untrue to her. Funnily enough, she was perhaps the only person in his life who knew when he was lying. He didn’t do it often, but every time he did, his thumb stroked over the crucifix tattoo upon the middle finger of his right hand, as if silently asking forgiveness from god for his sins. It was a barely noticeable tell, but she’d picked up on it when witnessing him bullshitting people.
Reaching the outbuildings, she saw that it had once housed a stable block, the structure now crumbling from rotted wood, in no fit state to house a living creature. It was a shame, she thought, imagining what it must have looked like back when it was built, which she guessed was likely in the eighteen seventies, going on the overall design of the property.
He said he lost count when he hit triple digits.
Filomena’s words smacked her sharply again, raking a hand through her curls as she sighed, kicking a pebble across the dusty ground beneath her feet. Would he, though? Was the man who was all hers truly looking to seek out an alternative to it just being him and her? The man who confessed his sins to her in the dead of night as they lay talking, truly, would he forsake the bond they shared for the dalliance with a warm body that was not hers?
She’d truly liked to have thought she was much less naive than she had been in the almost six months she had been in his life for, learning from him how not to let anyone take her for a ride, learn how to be shrewder, wiser, less easy to manipulate. Why teach her to be anything else, if he indented to hoodwink her? Surely, the man would want her to remain the unworldly little waif who always put her trust in the wrong people, should he have planned to be deceitful to her?
It didn’t make sense.
A frown knitted her dainty features, turning to slope off back the way she’d come, her ears picking up on the sound of a cawing coming from one of the huge trees to the side of the path. Looking up, there upon the branches slowly becoming thicker with the lush green of spring, sat a pure white crow. She’d never seen one before, stopping to look up at the bird, its blue eyes staring back at her before it began to caw again, ruffling its feathers.
A second bird then swooped down, its coal black wings wide, folding neatly as it landed beside its white counterpart, the creatures making soft noises of greeting to one another. She witnessed it, the little display of affection, the black one beginning to preen the white, gentle beak clicks sounding its contentment.
They reminded her of she and Luca; the light and the dark, bonded effortlessly despite being so different.
Walking back towards the house, she still had no idea what on earth to say to him when they came face to face, picking out the figure of Filomena still sitting outside, hearing the sound of the children screaming with mirth as they ran up from the lake. She thought he’d maybe gone inside already, but as she took the stone steps that led back up the rolling garden, she heard him shout behind her, telling Guiseppe not to throw rocks at his sister.
She hurried her pace, wanting to move back into the house and avoid him, but that wasn’t easy when her man had legs longer than the average Derby winner. “Hey, where are you rushing to, amore?”
The face he was met with took him aback, her expression hardened a little as her eyes darted and she dropped her chin. “Inside.”
Of course, he persisted. “What’s wrong, huh? You’re not your usual self.”
His hands prevented her movement, Emily pulling herself from his grasp, her hand moving to strike him sharply across the cheek. It was the first time she’d slapped anyone, and she hated it, especially watching the confusion and anger flit across his face, his mood darkening rapidly. “I never am when I’m lied to. A few, you told me of your affairs. Not over a hundred women, as I learned.”
He bit his back teeth together, his head snapping to look up at the house, where Filomena sat, a very captive audience to it. “I told you not to listen to her poison, Emily. I explicitly told you that.”
The fact he couldn’t meet her eye confirmed it. “It isn’t poison when it’s true though, is it? No matter how malicious her intent was. It’s still true, and you still tried to hide that from me.”
Walking away, she was just stepping back into the house again when she heard Luca explode like a bomb, hurling insults towards his ex-wife in savagely delivered Italian, his fury let loose. “Excuse me, please can you show me up to the bedroom?” she asked Catherine, the housekeeper who had come with them, the woman nodding as she changed direction immediately.
She looked relieved to be escaping the immediate proximity of the Italian hellfire being flung back and forth outside, Emily closing her ears to it as she trotted up the many steps comprising the marble staircase behind the woman who looked like she had seen the two people they’d left in their wake becoming furious with one another one too many times before.
“End of the hallway, miss. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and help chef prepare dinner.” Pulling her shoes from her slightly sore feet, she carried them while padding along the carpeted hallway, again studying her surroundings as she went, trying to take her mind off her current predicament.
Entering the bedroom, her mouth fell open, the space absolutely beautiful. It was all art deco, the decadence actually very simply done, black walls with white mouldings and ceiling, the hardwood floor furnished with fluffy white rugs, and as Luca had already revealed, a very big four poster bed in the centre. Sitting on the edge, she fell back into the comfort of the fresh, white linen, her eyes picking out the details of the ornate moulding around the chandelier that hung above, glad she was surrounded by silence.
Needing something to do in order to keep her mind occupied, she moved to where their belongings had been placed, Luca bringing very little with him since he of course already had everything he needed right there. She began to hang up her own items in the large, sparse wardrobe, knowing that she’d packed too much, remembering back to that morning when he’d told her that, too.
Just as she was placing her jewellery away, her peace was disturbed by a tightly wound looking Luca, coming in and clicking the door shut behind him.
“Emily, I’m sorry for what she said to you.”
An interesting choice of words. “You’re sorry for what she said, but not the fact you tried to hide the extent of your philandering from me?” She spoke tersely, fingers untangling her multi-stranded pearl necklace. She knew she should have brought it up in a box as opposed to the silk bag she’d stashed everything in to save space.
He moved to her, standing there in imposition, giving her no choice but to eventually look up at him once she’d finished her task. “Please, honey. Don’t let her get between us. This? It's exactly what that fuckin’ rattlesnake of a woman is lookin’ for.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. “It might be what she’s looking for, I don’t deny that from what you’ve told me about her. She isn’t coming between us, though. I asked you straight up, how many times you’d been unfaithful to her and what was your reply? A few. A fucking few! Losing count when you got to a hundred isn’t a few, Luca. Jesus god!”
Moving to the window, she needed space between them, irritated when he followed her. “Emily, just listen...”
“To what?” she snapped, “more lies?”
“I didn’t tell you ‘cuz I wanted to spare you it, the fuckin’ ugly truth of the man I was with her.” He reached for her cheek, stroking it, his chest a field of sharpened glass when she knocked his hand away. “I ain’t that man anymore, baby. Not now I have you.”
Her nostrils flared, eyes fixing him sternly. “You still lied to me. I needed to know the whole truth, Luca.”
“Oh, you fuckin’ did, huh?” he replied, his agitation winding once more, like somebody weaving thread into a loom. Why wasn’t the fact he wanted to be better for her enough?
“Yes, I fucking did!” she yelled, tipping him to explosion.
“What is it that you want me to tell you, Emily? You wanna hear it all, huh? How I was fuckin’ everything with a pulse from day one? You wanna hear how I took a waitress into the bathroom at my own wedding and fucked her over the sinks? Or how about when nobody could get a hold of me when Fil was in labour with Milania, because instead of bein’ a good husband and waiting outside for my first child to arrive, I was at a private sex club in Manhattan in the middle of an orgy? How about that, huh?”
It hit her in cold waves, to hear of such behaviour, delivered so loudly too. He never shouted or went on angry tirades, and she hated bearing the brunt of it. It wasn’t her he was angry at, though, and she saw it so clearly. He couldn’t meet her eye, pacing slowly as he dropped his head and ran his hand over the back of his neck.
She moved to him, reaching for his arm, stroking the lean muscle beneath the white shirt. “It isn’t Filomena you’re mad at, is it?”
His eyes locked onto a point in the distance, jaw tightened, offering only silence.
“Luca, you can’t make amends for how you acted in your marriage by being flawless in your relationship with me. And I love that you are, I believe you when you say you haven’t and won’t stray from me. I’m not the one who needs your apology, though. She does. She’s still hurting because you hurt her.”
There it was, the truth his ego had successfully stuffed down for the last year, tried to mask behind the lie he told himself that his wife didn’t care about his infidelity when in fact, she did. She simply didn’t want to break her heart or her marriage by confronting him over it, until she was literally confronted by his adultery right there in their bed.
He’d never be a good man, not truly. He was the head of an organised crime family, after all. He could, however, be better to the people who cared about him, though. Even if it was now in past tense. His pride still swelled, much too strongly to come out and tell Emily she was right in that moment, his eyes finally finding hers as he turned, taking her hands in his and squeezing them.
“Gimme a minute.” Striding out of the room, he moved through the house, Emily looking down at the lawn below where Filomena stood, Luca joining her after a few moments.
She turned around, her eyes glassy, looking up at the man who had torn her heart out, Luca opening his arms and wrapping her in a hug. He stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head multiple times as she wept against his chest, finally - and earnestly - delivering the words she’d so sorely needed to hear.
“I’m sorry. For everythin’ I put you through. Wasn’t your fault, it was all me.”
She cried harder upon hearing the apology, looking up at him, her eyes pleading as she stroked his face. “Then if you’re sorry, come back to me. Please. We’re you’re family, Luca. Send the girl packin’, let’s start again.”
Her statement took him by huge surprise, seeing the sudden vulnerability in the woman so formidable, so embittered by her need to hurt him as much as he had her. It truly rocked him for a few seconds, letting out a long sigh. He covered her hands for his own for a moment, removing them from his cheeks. “No, Fil,” he spoke, shaking his head, “my future is with her now. I’ve been angry at myself all this time, not you, and you needed to know that. That’s all. I ain’t ever gonna be no one else’s but hers.”
“She won’t love you like I do,” she tried, Luca shaking his head again.
“She won’t, no. She loves me differently, holds me fuckin’ accountable, makes me wanna be better. I shouldda been better to you, though. Just know that I know, but we ain’t tryin’ again. It’s not what I want.” He walked away then, knowing she likely wouldn’t take his rejection lying down. It wasn’t the woman she was. The man he’d become, though, was somebody he intended on remaining, going back into the house, finding Emily still within the bedroom, and taking her in his arms to plant a passionate kiss upon her mouth.
“What was that for?” she asked, a little breathless from it, her cheeks flushing.
He rested his forehead to hers, hands stroking her neck. “For being you, cara mia. I ain’t ever gonna be a good man, but I will be to you. Because of you.” His mouth met hers again, fingers beginning to tease the buttons of her dress undone, their need and longing for one another flickering into greater heat, his big hands grasping her narrow waist and carrying her to the bed.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” he began, lips planted kisses on her neck, “and I’m sorry I yelled at you.” His lips rained hot over her breasts, pulling her brassiere from her after flicking the clasps undone, “and I need you to know how much I fuckin’ love you.”
“Don’t tell me,” she gasped, hands all over him, desire charging over her skin. “Show me.”
Oh, how he showed her.
#luca changretta fanficition#luca changretta#luca changretta smut#luca changretta x ofc#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fic#luca changretta fanfic#luca changretta fic#nobody's girl#luca and emily
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Curse of being a Gojo and the Blessing of Death
summary: losing the will to live and accepting death as Gojo's sister
genre: angst, no happy ending
words: 1k
Being a Gojo was an absolute curse, and even worse was that I was born a woman. Eventually, you get used to the neglect, the hurtful words they strike you with all because you're his weaker sister.
Adding more to this sob story, the higher ups absolutely despised me and if it wasn't for my cursed energy, they would have done what they did best. Eliminating those they fear because they know they can't handle power.
All I've ever wanted was to feel like I belonged somewhere. Where someone could just, understand how I feel and appreciate the things I do. A group of people to laugh and spend time with.
"Why did I have to be his sister" is all that ever comes into my head. I try to hate my brother, but how could I hate the person almost everybody loves and cherishes so much. I just wish we could be like family instead of being rivals I never wanted us to become.
After all that's happened in my life including the event here in Shibuya, maybe I can actually be worth something for the community for once.
Maybe I can finally give up my dream of creating a stronger connection with my older brother.
Give up on the dream that I could live happily among them
Letting go of the thought that they'll accept me as a woman.
Laying on the floor right now, it's pretty cold. Never been colder in my life before even after experiencing all their stares. Can't feel my legs, they're heavy, too heavy. And my fingers don't move too. Am I dying?
But why does it feel so... calming. I've always thought was death was a terrifying experience.
No one in my life ever cared expect for Fushiguro-san. He knew I was capable of being strong and even said that he wanted to duel when I was on level with him. He said I could do it, which implied that he believed in what I could do. Tears were always brought to the back of my eyes. He cared for me.
I could only talk to him a few times, and it would always be in the most discreet places where I could come across him. But despite only having a few conversations with him, I treated him like a friend, a brother, and even like a grumpy dad.
I laugh at the thought of him driving me to school, which would never happen. But does it really matter what I think right now? The blood is leaving my body really fast, and Toji isn't here anymore. The only person who ever cared and appreciated my existence.
My brother's sealed in a box, and I couldn't help at all. He'll probably hate me so much when he gets out. No, he will hate me. Give me that stare that I fear everytime. His voice cold unlike his usual tone to everyone else. Why does brother hate me so much.
No one's around, last person I saw was Shoko, right before I left where her and Yaga-sensei were located. I wasn't even informed of the disaster but now I'm a victim of it. I guess this was the biggest blessing of my whole life.
Yaga-sensei removed the collar suppressing my cursed energy and told me I wouldn't need it when I get there. These moments only happen when I'm out on a mission to kill curses of higher grades. Always being accompanied by someone who has the ability to unlock my collar, like I'm some kind of dog.
The lights are getting brighter, what's taking so long. Why can't I just die already, it's hurting so much. I cry at the pain, I never wanted pain, no one does.
"GOJO-SAN!!" a voice yells in the distance.
Oh, it's that strawberry haired boy, with tiger stripes.
They've always refrained me from meeting him, probably cause he's got the soul of an angel. They didn't want me forming good connections with everyone fearing I'll get too comfortable and possibly overcome and be stronger than my brother which doesn't make sense at all.
I've only ever caught a few glimpses of him, he's hella cute, and his iconic red hoodie specially designed just for him that makes him stand out. I'm thinking a lot right now, I guess this is what happens when you die slowly and try to relieve the pain by having your mind busy with thoughts.
"Gojo-san, what happened?! I'm bringing you to Shoko-san right now, stay with me!" Yuji says as he picks my body up carefully, securing my limbs in place before he sprints to where we're heading.
"Thank you yuji, for caring. It feels really nice, to receive your kindness. You're a good kid" I tell him, my voice hoarse and light.
I don't even think he heard it, but I can't deal with the pain anymore. Almost like, I can't feel anything too. Can't hear his heavy breathing hoping to get me there on time, the wind rushing by us, the sound his feet make when it comes into contact with the ground.
"Gojo-san?..." Yuji slows down
Gojo Y/N sleeps eternally, in the hands of a boy who holds a curse within him
Gojo Y/N is finally at peace, after being neglected all her life
They lay in in Yuji's arms, a soft smile displayed on their lips with their eyes closed.
#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#yuji itadori#gojo angst#jjk angst#shibuya arc#gojo!reader#can someone make a fic out of this shit post please
105 notes
·
View notes
Text
First | Previous | Next
Part 4: Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust
The pull returns as soon as Jason steps foot outside the cemetery gates. Something in him urges him to hurry.
It doesn’t make logical sense. It’s just a dead body in an unmarked grave. That’s certainly nothing new or surprising for Gotham. Jason is not about to let it slip through the cracks but right now he has other more time-sensitive things to get done.
He slips on a comm.
“Hey O, you there?”
Her response takes less than 3 seconds. [What is it, Jaybird?]
“I’ve got an unmarked grave in a back corner of the Gotham City Cemetery. It’s at least a couple years old.” He pauses on the street corner to glance back at the cemetery gates. For just a second he thinks he spots a set of glowing green eyes but it's gone in a blink.
[And?]
Bab's question pulls Jason back out of his head.
“And I want to get a look at the body and everything so that the cops don’t conveniently miss anything.”
[You know what B is gonna ask,] she warns.
He sighs and drags a free hand down his face. “I know and I don’t have a good reason for why I was there. Just…gut feeling I guess.”
[We can keep this from him for now, at least until we go digging,] she replies.
This is why she's Jason's favorite pseudo-sibling. She's good at keeping secrets from B. He doesn't even have to ask most of the time. She just understands how much of a nosy bastard Bruce can be and more importantly, she understands that some things need to come out in their own time.
"Har har, O. You're hilarious," he deadpans back.
[Of course I am. Someone had to inherit Alfred's impeccable sense of humor.]
"Oh please, you wish." Jason snorts. "I gotta get back to business. Catch you on the flip side."
[I'll set up an algorithm to try to run through and narrow down footage from around the cemetery, but you better bring me some donuts when you next come by. The good ones from that shop near your place outside Burnley,] she orders and hangs up before Jason can respond, leaving him smiling as he removes his comm.
He has a few crime-time things to work out but then he can focus on the unmarked grave.
Things are a mess in his crew right now. Things are just not going Jason’s way today. A seller got spooked and dumped the product in the harbor. Bill’s wife went into labor prematurely, so there went one of Jason’s best henchmen.
What? He’s not a monster.
He did catch one of the new guys selling to kids and had to deal with that. By the time he finishes up a plenty eventful patrol, he is exhausted and pretty much just collapses in a pile of goo on his bed. Not even the insistent tug can keep him up beyond a passing thought to try to find more information later today when he wakes up.
The opening chords of Holding Out for a Hero -but not the original Bonnie Tyler version, oh no, it's the version from Shrek the musical- greets Jason's newly conscious mind. There's only one person in Jason's life with enough access and the gall to change their ringtone in his phone to this specific song.
"Dickwad, what do you want?"
[Awe, someone's grouchy. Not happy to hear from your favorite brother?] Dick's whine almost gets a chuckle out of Jason, but he'll deny that to his dying undying? breath.
"Holding Out for a Hero? Really?" Dick's cackle is a deranged sounding thing, especially over the phone. "What warranted a call this early in the afternoon? If it were for the laughs you would've done it where you could see my face when my phone rang."
[Ugh,] Dick complains, [this is why I hate being in a family of detectives.]
"So says the detective."
[Fine, fine. I just got some intel on a group trying to move a new strain of speed. It's some extra nasty stuff and they're looking at Gotham, specifically Crime Alley. I figured I'd see if you want in on it.]
"I'm busy right now, dead body."
[Oh shoot. How fresh?]
"Dunno," Jason sighs. "I found an unmarked grave, definitely old enough for the ground to have settled."
[Oh, if it's that, can't it wait? Body won't go anywhere. Better yet, tip the cops and let them get the initial legwork done,] Dick says lightly. [You can take it after that.]
The tugging in his gut protests at the thought of leaving the body in that grave to the cops, or anyone really.
"Gut says no."
[Jaybird...]
"There's something more here. I need to be the one digging it up, even if I leave it to the cops later on," Jason insists.
[How much of a risk is there of someone finding it in the meantime?] Dick has dropped into his professional voice now and it's weird how reassuring that is, Dick taking him seriously on something that seems so illogical.
"Low. It's tucked back in the far corner of the cemetery, surrounded by trees," he replies.
[Jay...you hate the cemetery. You hate going within three whole blocks of the cemetery. What were you doing there?]
"I needed to check something and that led me to the grave," Jason states vaguely. "Don't ask me how. I'm not sure I even have the words to explain it, especially not over the phone. It feels important Dickie. Logically I know it's just a long dead body, probably bones, but The Black Dog was there for a reason."
[The black dog? What black dog?]
"I think it's an actual church grim, or I guess a barghest in this case since it's a cemetery and not a graveyard.” He can practically feel Dick’s questions bubbling to the surface in the silence between them. “Just, go do some research. Look up Church Grims. I’ve got work to do, plans to dig up the cemetery.”
[Jay, I really think you should wait on this,] Dick begins softly, [take a step back to look objectively.]
“With all due respect Dickerson, shove it up your ass." Jason takes a breath to release the unreasonable annoyance. His voice drops to a soft rumble. "You didn’t see Spooky, the way they looked at me.”
[Oh no…you’ve already named it? We’re doomed!] There’s a pause before, [if you want help with the grave, I’m willing to help dig it up.]
Jason sighs softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks Dickiebird. You take care out there. Don’t let that ass get shot, your rogues will cry.”
Dick scoffs but Jason hangs up before he can retort.
Thus Jason begins his day, light pre-breakfast snack, warm-up workout, breakfast, the rest of his usual prep work for going out as Red Hood.
Jason swears, anytime he goes over with the intention to ask his information dealers about the unmarked grave, something comes up. None of the camera footage he's been sent to review so far has turned up anything. This whole week has been a bust and he's about ready to break out the shovel and go dig that grave up now. He knows it's illogical but he can barely sleep, the thought that he's missing something, that he needs to hurry hurry hurry, keeps him up and he's starting to feel like he's going insane.
It's as he decides he going to return to the cemetery that his comm goes off. It's the emergency frequency, the emergency frequency specifically chosen for major Arkham breakouts.
Fuck...
It takes the whole next week and a half for them to track down and re-lock up Gotham's worst offenders, even with Jason and Dick's help. Hell, Cass even flew in from Hong Kong. The chaos in the streets and destruction left in the wake of this event are taking even longer to resolve.
What few hours rest Jason has been able to snag are plagued by dreams of Spooky and the unmarked grave. There's dreams of everything from the dog dissolving to someone trying to claw their way free of the grave. The latter one spooking Jason the most despite how his logic reminds him that such a thing is impossible. He and Babs have already ruled out the body being dumped recently. She checked the footage when Jason woke from the dream, of the victim being buried alive, for the first time and called her in his paranoid panic. They both understood that it was most likely the trauma, but she'd been kind enough to check just in case.
Jason wakes in a cold sweat to the sharp absence of that soul pull to the cemetery. It's very telling of how used to it he's grown that the absence of it nearly sends him into a state of panic. He's throwing on the closest clothes and nearly half-way out the door before he remembers that he should probably talk to someone. He races back for his phone and jabbing his finger at Alfred's contact before snagging his keys and throwing himself out the doors.
[Young Master Jason. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?]
"The pull is gone," Jason says with no preamble. Alfred is the only person he's gone into detail about the pull of the cemetery to. Even though he hasn't had a chance to speak with him about Spooky, Alfred will understand better than anyone. "Dickie there?"
[Yes, Young Master Richard is currently helping Young Master Damian with his animals out back. Shall I fetch him for you?]
"No, no, have him tell you about Spooky and the grave. You can call Babs in too. She's been helping me with trying to find more info." Jason checks his key chain for the keys to his main storage unit. He has a shovel there. "Also tell Dickie that I'll take him up on his offer to help me dig up a grave."
[Certainly Young Master Jason. Might we be keeping this event "on the down-low" so-to-speak as well?]
"Alfie, you're a godsend. Thank you."
SO! Good news and bad news. Bad news, I had to split this chapter so this is what you get. Good news, I've been on a massive writing spree so the next chapter is well over halfway done. This was honestly the best place to cut this chapter. I'll continue making each chapter it's own post now too, but I'll still link everything together. This chapter and most of the future chapters will probably be titled with lyrics from Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage bc it's insane how well that fits.
First | Previous | Next
[Tag List] @emergentpanda-blog @my-perfect-storybook-love @gunebugfic @thegatorsgoose @thewondersoflebanon @bobred18 @d4ydr34min9 @ver-444 @redafi @echoednonny @greenmuffinofdoom @mentalcarebear @fisticuffsatapplebees @vythika96 @writer-extraodinaire @meira-3919 @yjfk @oddlydrawnpuppets @crystalqueertea @lazy-bouqet @darkthunder1589 @mnemovoid @keimiwolf @aarinisreading @love-has-no-labels @terzatheunderscorerima @idkmrpianoman @mur-ururu @chip-thief @kawaiikenna @rangerhorsetug @treepainting @thatonegirl10 @demiourgias @spooky-fm @antagonisticly @fluffy23sblog @manglethemingle @kyrianclawraith @layyeschips @shepardking @asphyxia778 @ballzfrog @fluffen-spooky @drowningroane @deathsdaisy @malaayna @mistyaltair @potatoeofwisdom @heartsong18 @nixthenerd @icedbluesoul @the-church-grimm @overtherose @sara0055 @banishedthumbs @tired-yet-awaken @dannyphantomphan @nonbinary-disaster @depressed-bitchy-demon @8-29pm @addie-lover-of-stories @lifefilledwithstories @apointlessbox @skulld3mort-1fan @katgirl05 @spookytragedyshark @mandyne-1001 @ascetic-orange
#dp x dc#church grim danny au#the black dog danny#dc x dp#jason todd#danny phantom crossover#red hood#buried alive
314 notes
·
View notes
Text
Come Back To You (Danny Walker x F!Reader)
Main Master List || Misc Master List
Link to AO3
Summary: Danny lives, but now he has to make some choices.
Warnings: 18+ Near Character Death, Language, Period Accurate Diction, Semi-Graphic description of injuries, Evelyn isn't pregnant but still has her heart set on Rafe and Danny and Danny has his heart set on her and reader
Author's Note: I had to guys, I just had to and I'm honestly thinking about doing a whole ass multi chapter story revolving around the movie. It's an itch in my brain and it's not getting out. Again... Darn you Josh Hartnett
Word Count: 1.9k
----------
The sun is bright in the blue sky by the time the plane lands on the asphalt and comes to a stop. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as your heart pounds. It’s been months since you’ve seen Danny and you feel like you haven’t been able to breathe normally since. Evelyn moves from beside you, nails shortened by her nervous biting. What’s going to happen now that Rafe and Danny are back? If they are back? Did Danny change his mind after he’s been away and wants Evelyn or is he still keeping his word and coming back to you?
“I feel like I’m going to faint,” her words are hushed as she tries to poke her head through the crowd of people and you try not to make a snarky comment. You and her were best friends, practically sisters, but she had broken your trust in a way you never thought she would. Since then, your relationship with the nurse has never been the same.
“Don’t be dramatic.” Despite your harsh words and harsh exterior, inside you are panicking. What if he died? Then what? What if he chooses her?
“I love him, you know? I love both of them so much.” If there was one thing you loved about Evelyn it’s that she’s a romantic like you, but not as much when she’s talking about the person who you’ve dreamt about for months on end.
“I love him too. More than you can know.” You grab her hand and lead her through the group of people toward the front as the door to the plane drops open. Doolittle comes out first and you watch as his wife rushes towards him, gripping onto him as others slowly start to trickle out. Most you’ve met before, Gooz, Red, Earl, Rafe. Rafe. At the sight of him, Evelyn bolts forward, running straight into his arms and your heart beats a little faster. Maybe it’s the sun beating down on you or maybe it’s the fact that you have yet to see his face, but you feel sick to your stomach.
Slowly walking towards the plane, you wait in high hopes as the remaining men come out, but still no Danny. Your heart sinks. Oh Danny, you stupid boy. Tears begin to swell in your eyes as your brain jumps to the worst possible situation. Evelyn takes note too, her hand reaching up to her mouth to hold back sobs, gaining Rafe’s attention. Noticing that Danny is nowhere to be seen, Rafe gently removes Evelyn from his arms and makes his way back to the plane. “Danny get your ass out here.”
“Boy s-s-sure knows how to make an entrance,” Red mutters, walking towards the group of people with a solemn look on his face, wishing Betty was amongst the crowd.
A boot steps onto the stairs from the shadow and into the light, causing your heart to drop for the second time. “Danny,” you whisper softly, wiping the tears from your eyes as you rush past the group and up the stairs of the plane, grabbing onto him and pushing him back into the shadow causing him to let out a groan of pain. “I thought I lost you.”
Danny lets out a choked sob as he wraps one arm around you and buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. God he’s missed you. You’re the only thing he could think about for those months. The way your skin lights up in the sun. The way your eyes twinkle from the lights. The way the wind moves your hair. Everything about you is what kept him going, even when he crashed. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he chuckles as you pull away, looking over him as realization crashes over you.
“Oh my God, what happened? We need to get you to a hospital,” you wince as you look over the extent of his injuries. His arm is in a sling, his leg has a long metal brace on it, and he has a big bandage over his neck.
“Wasn’t one of my better landings. The Chinese took good care of me and got me to this point,” he takes a step forward, pulling you back into him as he bumps his nose against yours. “They got me back to you.” He places a feather soft kiss to your lips before pulling back. “You’re as beautiful as the day I left you.”
“Don’t ever leave me again,” you comment, taking his good side and hoisting his arm over your shoulders, helping him down the stairs as people cheer.
“I don’t plan on it.”
“Danny!” Evelyn rushes to his other side, being careful to avoid hurting him further and a lump forms in your throat. The moment you and him just shared was intimate, loving. There should be no confusion about who he chose, but still, there’s always that probability.
“Evelyn. It’s good to see you,” he wears a smile on his face but he knows that the only woman he’ll ever love is the one on his good side.
“Yeah,” she pushes a piece of hair behind her ear, “you too.”
“Alright, let’s get Danny some proper treatment. Those Chinese nurses did a temp job, but he needs some actual medical care.” Rafe steps in, aware of your thankful gaze before the four of you walk off and get some medical help.
-----------
The hospital room is warm with a slight breeze coming in from the window as Danny lays on the bed, arm and leg in a proper cast. The tension in the room is visibly thick with you and Evelyn sitting on either side of Rafe, no one dares talking as the doctor and nurses work to make Danny comfortable.
Turning to the three of you, the doctor gestures for all to step out of the room before eyeing you and Evelyn in confusion. “Which one of you is the wife?”
“Neither of them are, sir. Whatever you need to say, you can say to all three of us,” Rafe comments as the doctor shrugs his shoulders in response.
“Captain Walker’s injuries were very severe. The doctors overseas did a good job of stitching his neck, but with the extent of his injuries to his arm and leg, he will have to be under watch for several months with several more months of physical training. We speculate that he will never be medically cleared to fly again.” Rafe’s head hangs in pity for Danny, but you see the look of relief that comes across Evelyn’s features and you feel the same way. “It was an act of God that he survived how he did. He should feel very blessed, but the pain is going to be tough. We will monitor it and give pain medicine as needed, but there is only so much we can do.”
“We understand,” you chime in, fingers picking at your cuticles. “Thank you Doctor.” He nods before walking away, leaving the three of you in the hall. “Now what?”
“We gotta be there for him. He’s not going to take this news well.” Evelyn nods along with Rafe’s words as a nurse steps out of the room and faces them.
“Is one of you Evelyn?” Evelyn’s eyes widen as she nods her head, stepping forward.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“He’s asked to speak with you.” The nurse holds open the door for Evelyn to go inside and sit down at his side, taking his hand. You can’t deny the feeling of hurt that encompasses you and Rafe notices. Taking your hand in his, he gives you a series of light squeezes
“He loves you. Don’t worry.”
“How do you know he won’t choose her?” The question is genuine and Rafe looks to you with exasperation.
“All he talked about was coming back home to you. Even in the thick of it, when we were surrounded by Japs, he kept praying to whoever to let him come home to you. I don’t think he once mentioned her.” Rafe gestures to where Danny lays and Evelyn sits, crying into her hands. “Believe me, he fucked up big time kissing my girl when he was going steady with you, but you’re the one he wants. The one he’s always wanted.” You let out a sigh of relief, giving his hand a reaffirming squeeze before letting go and letting your heart slowly mend. It’s true that Danny did kiss Evelyn while the two of you were seeing each other, but he had assured you that it was a one time deal and it would never happen again as long as he lives. She, on the other hand, made him her everything.
Evelyn storms out of the room and faces you, tears rolling down her face. “If you ever hurt him…” It’s an empty threat and you know it. Evelyn couldn’t harm a fly, much less one of her former closest friends. Seeking solace in Rafe, she buries her head into his chest as he wraps his arms around her, still not sure what to make of the entire situation. Taking that as a cue, you walk into the room, closing the door behind you and making your way to his bedside.
“Hey there,” his voice is raspy and you instinctively reach for the cup of water, bringing the straw to his lips for him to drink.
“Hey to you too. The doctor said you’ll be here for some months. Said your injuries were more severe than you let on.” He nods his head, pushing away the water and laying his brown eyes on yours.
“Did they say if I can fly again?” Hanging your head, you reach for his hand and grasp it into yours.
“I’m sorry honey, but probably not. The army won’t clear you after something like this. They said it’s a miracle you’re even alive.” Danny smirks and internally feels relief. Yes, he wants to continue and work for the war effort, but he also just wants to leave the world behind and move to a small house with you to live out a domesticated life.
“You’re the only thing that kept me going. When I was out there,” he pauses, looking away and trying to bat the tears away. He does not want to look weak, not when he’s already looking weak as is. “When I was out there, I thought I was going to die. I was bleeding profusely, losing consciousness by the second and the only thing I could think of was you. You’re my world, (Y/N), and I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you the way I thought Rafe left me. And I’m sorry that I kissed Evelyn. We were both mourning and needing comfort and she was the only one that could understand, not that it doesn’t excuse it. But I love you and I will make it up to you for the rest of my life if I have to.”
Your heart is hammering in your chest and butterflies erupt in your stomach. He chose me. It’s me who he wants. “Danny, what are you trying to say?”
Mustering the strength, Danny brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your soft knuckles. “What I'm trying to say is, will you marry me?”
“Oh Danny!” You surge forward, pressing your lips against his as tears roll down your cheeks. Breaking away from the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, his breath and your breath mingling together. “Yes, a thousand times, yes!”
“Yes?”
“Yes!” Your lips connect with his again and for the first time in a while, you feel that everything is just right.
people who had an interest: @phoenixhalliwell @waywardtigersandwich
#josh hartnett#Pearl Harbor 2001#Pearl Harbor movie#Danny Walker x reader#Danny Walker x you#Evelyn johnson#rafe mccawley#ben affleck#lacontroller1991
43 notes
·
View notes
Note
How do you cope with loneliness? My friends are so important to me but sometimes I feel like I can't fully relate to them anymore, and I just think about how they would hate me if they knew I was GC. I have TIF and even a few TIM friends that I love and cherish very dearly because I can see that they've just fallen victim to a toxic ideology feeding their body dysmorphia and self-esteem issues. But I can't tell them how genuinely worried I am about their mental health or send them detrans testimonies that I think they would relate to because they'd think I was some hateful violent monster that I'm not. Even the content creators that bring me joy and comfort are all so fiercely anti-TERF and it just makes me sad. I don't want to hurt anyone. I even distanced from the radfem community a bit because I felt like I was becoming too hateful towards men and TIMs when I truly believe many of the ones in my life are just trying their best and fell victim to a manipulative ideology that myself and other women also fell for. It's not that I wish I was still a TRA, because I feel much more at peace internally with my identity and my belief system, but I don't know if I can say peaking has made me happier overall. I feel like I don't fit in anywhere now. Making radfem friends helped a little bit but it's not the same as being around people I've known for years and gotten close to for reasons other than this one shared belief. I don't just want to abandon them all. And it's FRUSTRATING to see people spew misinformed fearmongered nonsense and not be able to actually help them dissect those beliefs. Feeling like the only one who sees things for how they really are, but forced to play along regardless, is just so restrictive and isolating.
To be completely honest with you, I don't have a great answer. I've been lucky to have one or two close friends at a time to whom I can tell everything, including my uncensored feminism-related beliefs. I've also been (and currently am) in friend groups with multiple people who identify as trans or are dating someone who identifies as trans, and have had to keep my thoughts and opinions to myself to keep the peace. I agree it's incredibly difficult sometimes, and I know a fair few of them would instantly drop me if they knew I was a "terf". It's kind of funny because I know some of them have an inkling of what I think about the issue, but say nothing so they don't have to fight with me. If anyone asked my opinion directly, I wouldn't lie, but I admit that I lie by omission.
It is hard to watch the ones who take the medicalization route hurt themselves. My ex girlfriend and I still talk, she's a they/them nonbinary now and despite always and still being very feminine and never expressing discomfort with her body before (including posting thirst traps often,) she wants to get a mastectomy soon. It sucks because of course after having looked into this phenomenon for so long, I'm well aware of the complications and side effects that can result from a major procedure like this: phantom pain/itching, extensive and restrictive scarring, the risks of infection and necrosis, and of course the risk of regretting having an entire organ unnecessarily removed from your body later on when it's no longer fashionable to do so. It sucks that voicing even the mere suggestion that it might be a bad idea is enough to have you shunned as an apostate. I genuinely care about her and I would feel similarly if she was having any other radical cosmetic surgery like breast implants or a BBL. At the end of the day, our friends will make their own choices regardless of how we feel about it, and the only thing we can really do is be there for them in the end.
I feel similarly to you in that I don't want to hurt anyone, only to protect people and especially women from the harms that are intrinsic to trans ideology. Unfortunately, you can't help anyone who doesn't want to be helped. Sometimes though, you can play dumb and ask questions that might get them to think a little bit more about the rhetoric they're repeating. For example, I often go out for drinks with coworkers, one of whom is a she/they nonbinary woman. One time she said something about how she couldn't be a full they/them because she's still 'girly' sometimes. I said something like "doesn't it seem kind of regressive to associate how feminine you are with how much of a woman you are? what about butch lesbians?" She didn't have an answer and brushed it off, but I could see the cogs turning a bit. Playing the uninformed normie pointing out the obvious sometimes gets them to realize how twisted the logic in trans echo chambers can be. And I think sometimes expressing your disagreement with the dogma can show your friends, who know you well and know you're a good person, that, contrary to what they've been told, not everyone who disagrees with gender ideology is an evil nazi out to slaughter transwomen in the streets.
But yes, in general, it is very very isolating to hold radical feminist beliefs. I'm sorry you're going through it. One thing to remember is, there are tons of women even in your general vicinity, who like you, don't buy into gender rhetoric but aren't saying anything in order to preserve their safety and social lives. I do believe that as the world seems to be becoming more aware of the reality of the situation, more and more people will feel able to be open about their dissent, and it will become less of a fringe opinion as the flaws in the ideology are exposed. Here's hoping I guess. Keep your chin up anon.
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi
you've mentioned that sparrows would have reincarnated as a slugcat?
would you mind elaborating on that?
also would they have met caper again after becoming all scuggy?
heehee
hoohoo hee :)c of course i'll elaborate! it is Her ✨ Fish's little best animal friend
wonderfully enough, Sparrows and the Tinkerer were developed completely removed from each other in my head, so Tinkerer still feels like a rather separate character from Sparrows even though they somehow wound up havin a lot of similiarities. exactly how the reincarnation stuff should feel like
the Tinkerer is Sparrows! and no character in-universe will ever find out. it isn't important. nobody but Tinkerer is affected by this, and Tinktink doesn't really have the means to speak about it. but for us behind the screens that know about this it will make Tinktink's interactions with the world just a lil bit more juicy
you've sent this at a good time, too! the day ur question came in i was actually pondering how to somehow make use of this reincarnation fact and not just let it float about as a lil bonus for the people that would know about this lil tiny ultimately unimportant connection
so, the idea:
as we (probably) all know, Euros is going to end up developing the Rot. this is distressing for a large amount of reasons, but the main point rn is that Euros is also a secret archive of folklore of the lower circles in the Eo group, plus maybe even a little bit over the range's borders to the east (after all, there's two more groups right next door to him n he's a phone operator chief). Euros is going to die a slow painful death and he won't be able to care for or save his collection of knowledge, which somehow manages to hurt him more than the reality of his impending doom
maybe not so surprising, considering that in his archive are the stories, the history, the spirit of his late lover's home- a place he clung to for as long as he could, the one he spent the most time in with his overseers, the one that held people he constantly wished could be his citizens instead of the vile and fake *things* soiling the streets of Ales
so one day after the Fish has properly reconnected to the Eo group, is caught up on current events and trying his *damnest* to revive Mission Self-preservation even though it is guaranteed to be useless, Euros mentions the nightmare that he's living through
"I'm a dead man walking, carrying precious treasures of people that were never heard crying out. I've held them close and safely within myself for over two thousand years. And now, when I'm fated to rot through and splatter on the ground, I fear all this time will be for nought. That I will kill what I've been protecting for so long."
"Even if nobody ever reads these- learns of them, hears them out from above their graves- I can't bear the thought of losing them."
and well Fish DOES have a lot of beef with Euros, but at this point this bitterness is starting to give away to desperation and horror of the terrible torment waiting for them in the future. he might be stubbornly still trying with the Mission, but he would go against what makes him himself if he didn't acknowledge that they are all damned for good no matter what he tries. so he gives in to the pity and hails Tinkerer to his chamber
he explains to her what he needs her to do and tells Euros about the plan. Tinktink has to travel all of this distance
to get to Euros (basically walk through the whole Europe), but dammit, she helped one Iterator that became her closest friend, she will help another one (a different Gen 2 that she loved and dedicated her whole life to in a different life)
Fish sends her on her way with a hug and a plead to keep herself safe
it takes her over a month to get there even with the help of vehicles like the barely working trains and a remshackle sky-sail that Fish guided her through fixing in their free time together. when she gets on top of Euros' structure, the dejavus start to hit. she visits the Mechanics' home, her feet carrying her to the bedroom as if it was just another end of the workshift. she looks in the cupboards she- opened millions of times- never even touched. she walks outside and then down the path to the entrance into the Iterator she's- taken countless times- never set a foot on
she saw these halls so many times she can pin point where every screw is- she's never been here, she can't understand these giant beings, they are too complex for her animal brain. that specific rhythm of beeps and pumps and water rushing through metal veins has haunted- comforted- her in many of her dreams. the Tinkerer makes it to the chamber almost like on an auto-pilot
when she enters the chamber, the slugcat finds itself disappointed, scared, confused- this isn't what this place is supposed to look like (but how does she know what it is supposed to look like-?), this isn't how she left it (this is the first time she stands here, what are these thoughts). it's supposed to be brighter. warmer. why is the puppet's plating and skin damaged by time, where is it its vibrancy, why are its eyes so tired? there are panels missing from the walls ("it's got to be the results of that Fever i once made a proj- i can fix thi-! what?"), glowing artificial bronze robins fly about or sleeping on his shoulders, tiny Rot cysts pulsate from the cracks in the umbilical arm. where has the firebird in that halo gone off to?
Euros greets her joyfully ("oh what are you trying to play at, you goof. i've known you for so long, i can tell when something's wrong. what's hurting? why are you tired? i'll get you back into shape, doncha worry love.")
"Ah, you made it! Welcome to my chamber, adroit little thing."
"Please. Your journey was a long one. I hold no doubt a very dangerous one, too. I won't march you into the job immediately. Rest up."
Tinkerer thinks he's strange. but her legs are indeed hurting, the bag strapped to her is heavy. she curls up in the corner of the room and tries to get some shut eye. she almost falls asleep when Euros starts mumbling under his breath, shooting nervous glances towards the birds. five fingered hands tremble so badly the joints rattle like a child's toy. he's scary, when his shoulders hunch up like that and those tired eyes turn frantic. but it hurts so much to see him like that for some reason, more so than it is scary. so against the better judgement of a survivor, she softly coos at him
the puppet's head snaps to her, gaze cold. the mumbles increase in volume, allowing her to understand
"...I'll tell you what. I have another mission for you, little messenger. But it has to stay a secret between the two of us. Nobody would approve, especially not the one you belong to now."
something whispers that the puppet closing in is supposed to be a comfort. the larger part of the Tinkerer instead finds itself wishing to run away
"Are you aware of the Memory Crypts that lie beneath all of us City Bearers?"
cautious nod, back pressed against the wall
"Good."
#Spot says stuff#rw#oc tag#oc: the tinkerer#oc: caper of euros#euros has fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun at the end of his liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
wish I hadn't left ☆ koga yudai
Genre ⋅ angst Wordcount ⋅ 870 TW ⋅ reader is dead (suicide), separation, regrets, reader is now 23 but died 19 Masterlist ⋅ here
Author's note ⋅ this is a bit different from my other works so if it's kinda bad it's because i'm not used to writing stuff like this! :[ I literally cried myself while writing this lololol
© 2myl0ver Copyright 2024. Do not copy, repost, or translate without my permission. ♡︎ and ↻ are very much appreciated !
every year, on the date of your death anniversary you come down to the land to stand guard of your grave.
whenever this time of the year comes around, you like to play a game with yourself – you guess who'll stay on your grave the longest.
it's been 4 years now, you've won a couple of times in the span of those 4 years. usually, it was your mother or one of your siblings. the one time you were wrong was when you guessed your sister but your best friend stayed the longest.
now, it was that time of the year again. February 17 – your death anniversary.
you sat on the grass beside your tomb and waited for people to arrive, each year the numbers of people that come to visit you get lower, but this was something you had expected the moment you wrapped the rope around your neck.
it was a cloudy day, will anyone even come? the day had just began and you were already thinking negatively, you get snapped out of this the second you start hearing foot steps and the voices of 2 familiar people.
you looked into the distance and saw it was your mother and your sister. this immediately lit you up though you knew they wouldn't last long because they hadn't brought anything with them like a picnic blanket, food or anything but it was nice to see them.
they talked to you or a bit, explaining why your father and your brother couldn't make it, updating you on things that has happened since the last time they came.
they lasted about 25 minutes before leaving, your mom didn't cry this anniversary – this relieved you. you didn't want to burden herself and this was the first year she visited without crying, this made you feel like you could move on and stop worrying about her.
an hour after they left, your group of friends from highschool came and spent 3 hours with you. seeing them again felt like a breath of fresh air, it seems like they've spent the longest today even though it was only 2pm. this year you hadn't guessed anyone as the amount of people coming to see you had lessened, it felt pointless.
but this particular day isn't the day you chose to burden yourself or drown yourself in regrets.
without notice, it was already 6pm and so far they have been the only ones to visit you. just as you were about to get up and look at other graves you heard footsteps coming towards your tomb.
you look up and see a tall, pale man dressed in black pants and a black turtle neck.
he sits down in front of your tomb before laying down a bouquet of red roses and removing his mask.
that's when realization hits you.
Koga Yudai. your first love, your best friend, your everything. in the span of 4 years, he has never visited you. you were childhood bestfriends, he left to pursue his dream when you were 15, he swore to comeback in a couple of years but being without him and having other mental problems consumed you which is what lead you to ending your life. you never got to confess your love to him
he brushes his hair out of his face, he looks hesitant – like he has so much to say but can't get any words out.
just as he opens his mouth – he breaks down crying, moving his hands from his lap onto his face.
"I-Im s-so sorry." he sobs out, it doesn't take you long to follow, tears quickly forming in your eyes.
you just sit there, staring at him with pity.
"I'm s-so sorry it took me so long to visit, I'm so sorry for leaving I-I.." he pauses, he knows he wont be able to say another word if he doesn't calm himself down.
he calms down in the slightest, wiping his tears away while more come pouring down. "I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't left, then maybe none of this would've happened. m-maybe to you we were bestfriends but to me you were everything. y/n, I was in love. maybe this is too late, and it's stupid to tell you now that- that you can't even listen but I can't live knowing I never told you. I love you, in every way you can imagine. I love you and everything about you, I wish right now I could be telling you this with you alive, in front of me but it's too late. If this is how I have to do it, I will. I went everywhere to find these flowers, I remember-" he lets out a laugh before continuing, "I remember I used to pick out the same roses from school because you'd always talk about them. remember the mystery person that left roses on your table? that was me."
you sat next to him while he rambled, telling you everything that he's achieved, also telling you secrets he did in highschool just to get you your favorite things.
he left at 11pm, just before your time came at 12am.
you lost guessing this year, but it was worth it.
#&team#&audition#&team imagines#andaudition#&team k#&team scenarios#andteam#andteam reactions#koga yudai#yudai koga#k &team#&team K imagines#k &team imagines#koga yudai &team#&team koga yudai
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
alright, this might be a doozy so hear me out.So my partner is staying with my family and I until March.My friends know this and pretty much all of them are friends with him. They all get along pretty well. My best friend adores him. Like she gets excited when he asks her to hang out with us.Anyways.So usually I just hang out with my 3 girlies. All of them start of them with A so I can't use initials so I'll use emojis.🐯 Is my best friend (the one mentioned previously)🦔 Is our other friend she's really chill and basically just always busy cooking and dealing with her many chaotic students And finally there's 🐱 this one is very intense and the one I'm having a bit of an issue with.So the first time my partner and I had everyone together we were all getting ramen together. It was going well until 🐱 coerced 🐯 into trying a heavy edible at my house and it made 🐯 get sick and have a panic attack. 🦔 And my partner were comforting 🐯 in the living room while I was keeping 🐱 away from her cause she was stoned as fuck and was pissed that 🐯 wanted to watch some very chaotic dork she likes watching for her calm down. 🐯 Is okay by the way. She still feels guilty but we've been assuring her it's not her fault.And then the second time we all hang out 🐯 can't make it bc stuff but tells us to have a good time. It was going well until we were all hanging out in the food court, splitting a pretzel cup and then 🐱 basically tells us she was stealing while we were all together and 🦔 called her out on it. Look none of us don't give a shit abt it but don't drag us into that. And it got brushed aside because 🐱 had to rant about her 4-Chan friend group. Who she doesn't like but she cries when they hang out?? 😭 I accidentally butt dialed one of my friends during this and it ended up causing SO MUCH DRAMA 🗿. Because that's when 🐱 demanded we go home despite saying we can all go out to dinner after the 4 chan rant. And on the drive home, me and partner were scared to even speak to each other on the ride home with 🐱. And a few weeks later, 🐱 calls me up. Her family member had suddenly passed. Which is horrifying. I'm so sorry oh my god. And my partner overheard and he said his condolences. And 🐱 got mad and hung up and then didn't speak to me for a week. When she did, she told me that I should know no response is a response and that I was wrong for letting my partner offer condolences and that it was immature for him to butt in, and this is why she isn't friends with 21 year olds. (Note: she's 28, my partner is 22, 🐯 and I are 25 and 🦔 is 26). Which is hypocritical of her because she's friends with our mutual friend who is 21. Not the point. And then she takes my partner and I out to sushi. And she was ranting about her job. She works with disabled or mentally ill kids as a teacher's aid. And her one kid has a lot of issues. 🐱 Was venting about her and called her a c*nt because she was self harming and her schizophrenia was acting up. We were appalled. How can you call a 13 year old little girl that? Especially a little girl with issues like that. My partner was disgusted for the little girl and also the fact that his little sister is also 13. Luckily 🐱 got removed from working with that little girl but that's still horrible. :( Last weekend 🐱 called and we caught up and she told me she wishes she never ranted to my partner about her work cause he didn't seem like he was listening? He was listening he was just angry?? Which I was too. I was boiling internally. I work with middle schoolers when I tutor, those kids have enough on their plates how can you call them that wtf.
21 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
