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nikoruistyping · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! I saw Tony on your masterlist and clearly you are a person of taste *chef's kiss* I would love to request a tony x avenger!fem!reader where he helps her design/make her avengers suit, I'll leave the rest of the details up to you

Fits Like a Glove || Tony Stark

Tony Stark x Avenger!Fem!reader

Summary: Tony knows you have been stressed lately about having just gained powers accidentally leading you to be put onto the Avengers team in such a short amount of time so he decides to surprise you with one of his lovely creations…

TW: Fluff, Playful/Teasing Angst, Suggestive Kissing & Banter that is an Allusion to Sex, Semi-Established Relationship

Word Count: 1,618

A/N: I had so much fun writing this especially since my friend and I were talking about this scenario recently and I even used some of the dialogue we came up with together for this!

The clacking of your heels alone was a signal that you were on your way to Tony's lab. Your white lab coat swaying back and forth as you made your way down the various corridors and extremely unnecessarily long hallways of the Avengers Compound. You hear a ringing in your earpiece and double-tap it to answer.

"Hello, Dr. Y/LN speaking." You say in a professional manner as the pace of your steps started to speed up.

"Why hello there Dr. Y/LN. Have I told you yet that every time you pick up the phone that line just keeps on sounding sexier?" Tony says nonchalantly over the phone.

"You may have mentioned it a few times by now. Come on Tony, what's the status update on the lab samples?" You ask the tone in your voice still keeping a serious manner.

"Lab samples? Hmm, I don't remember anyone mentioning lab samples." He says trying to hold back his chuckle since he always liked to tease and joke with you on a daily basis.

"Tony, I'm being serious. Do you have them or not?" Your brows furrow in the process.

"Don't worry I have them, no need to get your panties into a twist, I mean unless you’re not wearing any then that’s a different story sweetheart,”

“Tony!” Your face flushed red at his comment, sometimes you still weren’t used to his flirting ways.

“Oh come on it was funny! Well anyways are you on your way or not? I haven't got all day Dr. Y/LN." He says glancing over at what he has laid out in front of him on the lab table and smirks to himself.

"Yes, I'm on my way. I'm actually just around the corner. See you soon, Mister Stark." You say double-tapping the earpiece to end the call without even hearing him say goodbye.

"See ya soon Y/N-" He gets cut off by you ending the call early and he scoffs looking over to Dum-e.

"Did you see that? I can't believe she just hung up on me!" He says annoyed while the robot just beeps and boops, it’s arm moving in response.

You were under a lot of stress recently and it wasn't helping that Tony had just promoted you to lead scientist on the latest Avengers Project. You were happy about the position but it was a lot of hours spent in the lab and well not enough time sleeping. You were cranky and clearly frustrated half the time since all the test results from experiments have all been failed or inconclusive. It also didn't help whatsoever that you were trying to deal with your newly found powers. It was a little over a week ago that you had an incident in the lab and well let's just say you ended up obtaining powers by accident. The news was a shock for the whole team but thankfully they welcomed you with open arms to be a part of the Avengers and now you were one of them but also one of the few that was a brainiac too. It was hard to process at first but with time and a little bit of training, you were sure that there wasn't anything you couldn't do, it was just going to take some time to get a handle on it.

You finally arrive at Tony's lab and you swipe your ID card to get inside, F.R.I.D.A.Y greeting you while the doors open. Your eyes dart around the room not seeing Tony anywhere in sight. Not by his computer, not by the lab tables, and not even in the kitchen making himself a cup of coffee. Your footsteps became lighter and quieter as you slowly stepped into his space knowing how sacred the whole lab was to him.

"Tony? Are you here?" You questioned, your voice seemed to echo all around you as you made your way over to his computer and dragged your hand across the tabletop, your eyes were scanning the files he had pulled up on the hologram screen. Before you could even question or glance more at the information you felt someone's presence behind you, big hands covering your vision.

"Tony? Is that you? You know how much I mildly hate surprises." You say while your back seemed to be pressing into his chest as he stood behind you.

"I know you do but just come with me, I have something to show you." He says with a smirk covering your eyes and leading you over to one of the lab tables.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess that you don't have the samples I asked for?" You say rolling your eyes while his hands were still covering them, your steps careful walking forward, following his lead.

"Forget the samples will ya, I have something even better. 3...2...1..." He counts down and takes away his hands for you to see what's in front of you.

You let out a loud gasp at what you were looking at and it was a mannequin who was wearing a female suit prototype. Had he really gone through all this work to make and design a suit just for you?!

"Is this what I think it is?" You question looking in awe at the suit and walk around it to get a full 360 view of it.

"I went ahead and created the base for your new suit. Now look, I still have to make a few minor adjustments especially since I didn't know how it will exactly work with your powers. I just finished uploading and updating the AI for it, and-" He gets cut off from his technical rambling when he feels your arms wrap around him immediately giving him a hug and he was taken back not expecting you to hug him so close and tight like that.

"Thank you, Tony...I love it." You mumble underneath your breath while you kept hugging him tightly not getting the hint to let go.

"Technically it's not finished just yet. I need your help to pick out the colors and some other small parts. Also we need to come up with a name for the AI-" He keeps rambling on while you pull away from the hug.

"Tony, seriously, enjoy the moment for a minute and shut your trap about the technicalities." You say turning around and taking another full glance at the suit appreciating the fact that he thought about you for more than just one minute. He really was paying attention even when you didn't think he was, he definitely was.

"Fine, but there is still is a lot of work left to do on it before you take her for a spin," He says pointing at the parts that still needed work and adjusting.

"I know that you have been stressed lately and you haven't had much time to think about your new powers or how exactly you're going to use them in combat so I thought having a suit might be useful to protect yourself with. Plus every Avenger needs a suit, duh." He admits pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

You turn around to face him once more, the smallest of smiles coming across your lips at how thoughtful he was. Tony had his moments and well this was definitely one of them. It just reminded you of how much you truly were falling in love with him more and more by the day. He thought about you when no one else seemed to pay attention and even though at times he was a smart asshole he was your smart asshole.

“I just hope it fits like a glove.” You say with a small chuckle looking once more at the suit and seeing how sleek and tight fitting it would be as you tried to imagine yourself wearing it in your mind.

“I’m sure it’s going to fit you perfectly. I have a photographic memory of your body.” His eyes were clearly scanning over your body up and down as they were peeking through his glasses.

"Oh really? Hmm...I guess I’m going to have to put that knowledge to the test.” Your footsteps making their way to him as he leaned against the lab table with his arms crossed.

Your hands delicately placing themselves on the very edges of his glasses and slowly taking them off for him. Normally he didn't wear glasses but when he was hard at work he would use them as a way to protect his eyes from all the computer screens.

“Have I told you Mister Stark how much sexier you look without glasses?" You say with a smirk, your fingers gently folding the glasses closed and placing them on the table.

"You might have mentioned it a few times..." He trails off using the same line you had earlier.

"Well...what are you waiting for? I want to test how well you really know my body or are you afraid of failing the task?" You raise your eyebrow awaiting a response from him, you could feel his hands place themselves on your waist without hesitation, drawing you closer to him.

"Are you really doubting my genius right now Doctor? How much time do we have?" A smirk on his face as you take a look at your smartwatch seeing the time.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, I'm gonna need you to cancel my meeting and reschedule it." You say out loud quickly while you felt Tony's lips touch your neck giving you painfully slow peppered kisses, his hands already helping you slip off your lab coat.

"Ok, Dr. Y/LN. Is there anything else you would like me to do?" The AI asked.

"Please lock the lab doors immediately. It looks like Mister Stark and I are going to be...” You voice paused while a moan escaped your lips.

“Pre-occupided..." Your voice was weak while he continued to kiss your neck and lead back up to your lips.

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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago

Text

utopia- peter maximoff

yeah... im back being in love with Peter <3 enjoy loves <3

word count: 3k

warnings: angst and fluff, wandavision spoilers

id be open to writing more parts if anyone was interested <3 (I wrote this at 4am if it’s all over the place im sorry)

masterlist

You didn’t know much, but one thing was for certain; you didn’t belong here.

This morning you had opened your eyes and were met with a town that seemed like the very definition of the suburban dream. Your mind screamed at you as soon as you came to in the strange and indisputably new environment, telling you that this town was your home. The fact that you couldn’t remember anything before your eyes had fluttered open didn’t fill you with the utmost confidence about the legitimacy of the voice in your head, or the utopia that surrounded you.

All you knew was that you came here to look for someone. This someone was someone very important to you and you had a feeling that you were exactly where you needed to be to find this someone. There was one minor problem though; you didn’t have a clue who this special someone was, just that you needed to find him.

Cautiously, you found yourself wandering the town that seemed to be lost in time. All of its residents dressed like they were all attending an 80s themed party, yourself included. You couldn’t recall pulling on the ridiculous getup but that voice told you not to worry about it. It wasn’t long before you were in the middle of the town square, people bustled around you happily, all of them eerily going about their day as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Nobody looked stressed or sad or anything other than animatedly happy.

The realisation caused a slight panic to begin in your chest, there was something very wrong happening here and you didn’t know what. The very second you began to show anything that didn’t come across as positively blissful, the voice you’d been hearing since you opened your eyes sounded in your brain, louder than ever.

You are happy here. WestView is home. You are home.

Despite her soothing tone, you weren’t convinced.

“Who are you?” You demanded out loud, whipping your head in all directions, eyes set in a glare as you watched the citizens of the town acting none the wiser to your question.

Within seconds a woman appeared before you, a sweet smile on her face and two children by her side. “Hey there, you must be the new neighbour.” She spoke kindly, something familiar about the woman caused you to immediately relax in her presence although that relaxation felt somewhat… forced.

With a hesitant nod you looked around again, you brought your eyes back to the little family and offered them your best friendly smile, “It seems I must be, yeah.”

The lady giggled and held her hand out towards you, “Nice to meet you, I’m Wanda. And these two are Billy and Tommy.” You took her hand in yours, suddenly overwhelmed with an influx of thoughts that didn’t seem to be yours. Suddenly you were giving Wanda the most sparkling smile you could manage, not entirely sure why your mouth had formed such a smile for a complete stranger.

“Pleasure to meet you all.” Were the only words you could manage, still riddled with confusion as to what was going on.

Wanda returned your smile, Billy and Tommy seemed almost enamoured by you as they both stared at the new arrival. Glancing at her boys, Wanda knew she’d have to keep a very close eye on you, you were a mutant and stronger than even you knew, hard to control. But she had let you through her barricade as soon as she realised who you were and why you came.

“What’s your name?” Billy had asked and Wanda grew nervous as she noticed your eyes lose their smile for a second as you blanked on the simple question.

What was your name? It took you a moment or two before you regained your composure and extended your arm to the little boy in front of you who shook it excitedly, “Y/n. My name is Y/n, it’s really nice to meet you two.”

“Say, would you like to come and have dinner with us?” Wanda offered and you nodded your head gratefully.

“Dinner would be lovely. I’m feeling quite airy today, a good feed might help.” You told her with a laugh.

You walked to what you assumed to be Wanda’s residence, Billy and Tommy spoke excitedly to you as you walked, the pair of them strolled on either side of you fighting for your attention and entertaining you as they constantly tried to one up each other.

“You’re so cool! I can’t wait for uncle piet to meet you!” Tommy commented, prompting a soft smile from Wanda and an agreeing nod from Billy.

With a laugh you ruffled the boys’ hair, “Uncle Piet, huh? I bet I’m way cooler than that guy.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Wanda laughed, her hold on you lessening as you began to relax on your own accord.

It only took a few more minutes until the four of you arrived at their house. As you entered you took a second to take in the interior, the 80s theme not as glaringly out of place to you as it had been earlier.

“Vis! Pietro! I’m home and I’ve brought a guest!” Wanda’s sweet voice sounded from the kitchen.

“Uncle Piet hurry up! Come meet our new friend!”

“Come on! Come on! Hurry up!”

Billy and Tommy yelled up the stairs impatiently and you smiled fondly at the boys, crossing your arms over your chest as you anticipated meeting ‘the funnest guy in the whole world’.

“M’coming! Jeez.” The deep voice made you freeze. For the first time since you arrived in WestView you could finally say you recognised something.

The thumping of feet running down the stairs had your heart beating out of your chest and when you finally came face to face with the man the twins had praised so highly you thought your ribs were at risk of breaking from how rapidly it was pumping.

The man looked at the twins, expectantly, “Alright. Where’s the one making you two so excited?” He hadn’t noticed you yet.

With a shaky breath, it bagan coming back to you, he was the someone you were looking for. He wasn’t just someone special, he was your love. And there he stood, silver hair unkempt as usual and his signature grin painted his lips.

“She’s-“ Billy started but Peter cut him off.

“She? You guys get yourself a lil girlfriend? Huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you couldn’t help the breathless laugh that left you. He was still your Peter. Funny, lighthearted, great with children and not completely thoughtless behind his gorgeous doe eyes like the rest of the town’s residents.

The airy laugh caused a shiver to run up his spine. No, you couldn’t be here. Not you. But he knew without even turning his head that it was you, his girl, the love of his life. The loyalist person he’d ever had the privilege of being able to love. Of course you’d follow him to a whole different reality.

He whipped his head in your direction, his mouth falling open as his eyes landed on your form, your eyes shining the way they always did when you’d see him after a long mission.

“Peter?” The boy felt his heart crack as your expression dissolved into something between confusion and panic. He quickly zoomed over to you and pulled you into him, pressing your head into the crook of his neck to hide your expression from Wanda who had yet to return from the kitchen.

His lips hovered close to your ear, “Pietro, you have to call me Pietro. I’ll explain everything, I promise just act natural for me, alright?” He murmured, moving his hand comfortingly up and down your back, aware that the twins were watching Peter pulled away but wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you forced yourself to smile as the pair of you faced the boys.

“How’d you guys manage to find my girlfriend in this dump?” He asked jokingly, smirking proudly as their faces dropped.

Billy glared and raised his little eyebrow at his uncle, “Your girlfriend?”

“You were right, you two. He definitely is the funnest person but I still win in the cool department.” You said, laughing nervously and hoped you weren’t being too conspicuous.

“Oh come on,” Peter groaned, “I haven’t seen you in forever and you’re already making fun of me in front of my nephews? That’s cold.” He pressed his lips to your temple, keeping them there for a few seconds, they were firm and sure and they let you know that he was really with you, you’d found him and he was real.

When Wanda re entered the room you felt your shock ebb as if it were being drowned beneath the surface before you could calm it naturally. You allowed your body to melt into Peter, your unintentional, sitcom worthy smile making his way across your lips again.

“Oh good, so you two have met then?” Wanda grinned, knowingly. Peter gave her a grin of his own.

“We’ve done more than meet.” He told her suggestively and you poked his ribs gently.

“You should’ve told me you were a Maximoff,” You giggled out as Peter littered your face with kisses while the twins gagged, the silver haired man pulled away from you for only a second to stick his tongue out at his nephews before he returned his attention to you as you chastised Wanda softly, “I would’ve been able to prepare myself to see this loser.”

Peter scoffed and gently pushed you away before speeding to catch up with your body. He wrapped his arms around your torso from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder, “She loves me really.”

Peter knew exactly what Wanda was after; a perfect family. He understood that’s what she wanted but he didn’t know how far she would go to achieve that goal. He had to make sure you played along, he couldn’t lose track of you again.

Your next words caused a stir in the hearts of both the siblings, your head was turned and your gaze was locked on Peter’s face, eyes free of any outside emotion as you broke out of Wanda’s hold and what Wanda read off your face wasn’t fear nor confusion, it was nothing but pure adoration for her brother.

“I do. I really do.” You told him, eyes becoming glassy before Wanda managed to regain control of your mind. You cleared your throat and gave Peter an airy smile, gently placing your lips against the curve of his jaw and he bit the inside of his cheek as he held you, allowing the conversation to flow easily and trying his best to support you as you unknowingly exhausted yourself fighting against his sister's hold.

He had a feeling you hadn’t remembered your mutation yet. You were one of the most powerful mutants Xaviers School had ever seen, your powers similar to Jean and Charles himself. Telekinesis was a tricky game, especially when you weren’t aware of it.

He remembered when he’d met you, you were with Charles and Hank, in his basement and asking for his help. He smiled to himself when he thought of how you’d been just as confused as him at the time.

You had no control over your telekinesis back then, similarly to now as you sat playing a board game with the twins, lights would flicker when you laughed and the very ground you walked on would shake if you got angry enough.

“Her mutation, it’s strong.” Wanda commented breezily as if it were nothing, floating through the kitchen going about her business as Peter’s eyes never left your form.

With a sigh he murmured, “She’s powerful, Wands. Trust me when I tell you that this whole thing could come crashing down if you don’t let her access her mutation.”

Wanda paused, her jaw clenched. With a flick of her wrist the panel that was allowing Peter to gaze at you from his place in the kitchen shut in his face. He turned to face Wanda then, an incredulous look on his face.

“What do you mean.” Peter only let out a tired laugh.

He shook his head, “Why did you let her in in the first place? You could’ve kept her out if you didn’t want her here.”

“She came for you, Pietro. You were the only thing on her mind. I didn’t realise she had power until I’d let her in.” She seethed, glaring at Peter.

“Maybe this was a mistake…” Wanda began, clenching and unclenching her hands as she considered her next actions. Noticing her uncertainty, Peter stood up and approached her as she spoke, “I should send her back.”

Panic flooded the speedster and before his sister could so much as move a finger he grabbed both of her hands in his, “No!” He shouted, desperately.

“Please don’t. I’ll look after her, just… just don’t take her away from me. Not again.” He begged, shaking his head frantically and Wanda knew in that moment that sending you away would create more problems than it would solve.

With a steady nod Wanda squeezed her brother’s hands, “She’ll stay here. But she’s your responsibility now. If she becomes a problem she’ll have to go.” His sister explained causing Peter to once again nod his head frantically.

“There’s an empty house next door. It’s yours, take her home, she’s tired I can tell.” Peter left the kitchen without another word, a smile on his face as if the conversation with Wanda hadn’t shook him to his core.

When he entered the living room he watched fondly as Billy tried to impress you and Tommy sat contently beside you. Wanda had released you from her influence and you were simply fighting sleep while simultaneously keeping the twins occupied. Even without your mutation, Peter knew you were a superhero.

“Alright, nerds. Stop bugging my girl.” Peter walked casually to the couch and pulled you up gently, kissing your temple like he had done earlier, “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

When he pulled away you were looking at him, your expression somewhat defeated, “Home?” That’s right, he reminded himself, you didn’t know where home was.

He nodded gently, interlocking your fingers with his and led you to the front door.

“Bye boys!” He called over his shoulder, not bothering with a proper goodbye tonight.

True to her word, the house next door was vacant and ready for the couple to move into. As soon as the front door was shut Peter attached his lips to yours, feverishly moving his hands to your cheeks as you melted against him.

“I’ve been looking for you for so long.” You croaked, pulling away, select memories had began to return upon meeting his lips.

Completely overwhelmed you nuzzled your cheeks into his palms when tears began to leak from your eyes. Peter pulled you closer, bringing his forehead to rest against yours, “I know, baby. But I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

His words had only served to push you further towards the edge and you gripped his wrists to keep his hands in place, using him as an anchor. He shushed you gently once the picture frames nailed to the wall began to clatter against the plaster while you struggled to even out your breathing.

“I couldn’t think, Pete. I couldn’t- I couldn’t keep her out. There’s something so wrong here, we need to get out- we have to get out.” You rambled, tears streaming down your face now as the panic Wanda had pushed away from you earlier now manifested into a full blown panic attack.

“Hey, hey, hey, Y/n, look at me, okay? Neither of us are under her control right now, you’re safe, you’re with me and I’m not going to let her so much as flick her wrist at you, do you understand me?” He spoke steadily and sternly, caressing your face so gently as if he was afraid you’d break.

After a second or two, the walls stopped shaking and you let Peter guide you to the stairs and into a double room. Carefully, he undressed you and redressed you into the shirt he’d been sleeping in, something in him just knowing being surrounded by his scent would calm you down.

Your hands snaked around his waist after he finished getting himself changed, with a content sigh you pressed your lips against his shoulder before pulling away to look into his eyes, “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Peter nodded his head, eyes softening at your concern, “M’better now.”

Before you could respond Peter had zoomed the pair of you into the floral double bed. He lay on his back, his silver hair sprawled against the pillow and his eyes looking at you contently. You gazed at him from your space against his chest, your body completely flush to his, the arm he had wrapped around your waist making you feel safe.

He hummed in approval as your finger lazily traced his jaw, he grinned dorkily, he watched your eyes fluttering open and shut as you struggled to stay awake. Peter wrapped both arms around you tightly, pulling you up ever so slightly to let your face rest against the crook of his neck.

“I love you, Y/n.” He whispered when he felt your fingers toying with his hair gently.

You hummed, pecking the skin of his neck, “I love you, Peter. Or should I say Pietro?” He couldn’t stop his chuckle when he felt your lips form into a smirk as you continued to peck lightly at his neck.

Peter shook his head, his hands moving up and down your back, slowly and softly as he told you, “Nah, I just wanna be Peter with you. You’re the only person in this wacko town who knows who I am.”

“We’ll get out… and then we can go back to being whoever we were before we ended up here.” You spoke sleepily, but honestly, he knew you believed what you were saying.

He wanted to ask why you’d put yourself in this situation but he knew why. And he knew he’d follow you into anything like this too.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been proud of the love the pair of you shared, considering it had landed you in a borderline tyrannical suburbia. But even a barrier that wiped memories, a witch who could bend time, space and the very reality around her couldn’t keep the two of you apart.

Neither of you knew what would happen in the future but that didn’t matter so long as you had each other. As your breath evened out against his neck Peter promised himself that he’d find a way to get you both out, get everyone out.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision

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monodipita · 4 years ago

Text

COPE (Yandere!Getou x Reader)

Word count: 1,914

Warnings: Yandere content warning, drug-related themes (curse used as a drug)

He couldn’t cope with the rejection. You wouldn’t see Getou again—maybe weeks or months would pass of constant no-contact with him, until suddenly, your phone rang with his name as the caller ID. “I want to see you again,” he said smoothly into the phone.

This was your chance to make things right. “Yes, I’d love to. Where would you like to meet?”

”How about the usual cafe? If you remember where that’s at. I know you'd like to play with the cats and kittens. They recently told me that Narnia gave birth to some kittens a few weeks ago, and that they're already attached to the customers that come in.” The cafe that you frequented with him when you were with him. “Of course.” You responded with a small, oblivious smile pressing into your lips and cheeks. Kittens were always fun. “I’ll see you there.”

This was exciting and anxiety-inducing, wrapped into one meeting. You couldn’t wait to see how he was doing, but you were also nervous to see how he was faring after… well, after you rejected him. Your friendship was far too valuable for a relationship to come in and possibly ruin that, and plus, you were dating someone now. You just couldn’t date your best friend. You couldn’t.

You threw on something casual and nice, and began to head that way, toward the cafe. It was a cutesy cafe for cats. You always dreaded coming to this place because of your allergies, but the cats and their cute presence always made it better when you were there. After taking the subway station and hailing a cab, you were staring down the face of the building. The sign read ‘OPEN’ in large, adorable paw-print letters. You looked in through the window, but there seemed to be no sign of Getou. Curious, you step inside.

The sound of the familiar bell jingling overhead you while you stepped through the door gave you a strong sense of nostalgia. A soft, homely sigh escaped your lips and a smile spread across them. It was so long since you two last came here. If you had the gall to come here by yourself, you would’ve.

”You must be [Y/N]! Welcome, we’ve been expecting you. Right this way, please!”

You hesitantly looked up to see a smaller woman speaking to you. You nodded at her words and followed her over to a table that was already set-up. Getou sat in the seat facing the wall, with his back away from you, but you could tell it was him. That jet black mane of his, and those large ears, were unmistakable characteristics… or just characteristics you happened to associate with him. “Getou?” You called his name sweetly to call his attention, bringing another smile to raise itself on your lips. You see him turn to face you.

He’s as handsome as ever. It’s hard not to swoon at the sight of him—he always had that about him where he was so devilishly handsome. And the smile on his face was equally charming as it spread from corner to corner of his cheeks. “[Y/N], it’s good to see you,” he was relieved. He turned before he stood completely and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a tight embrace. You kissed his cheek welcomingly before pulling away and staring up at him to absorb more of his features up close, marveling in his beauty. He was so gorgeous! To go with that beautiful personality of his, he was truly the perfect man!

You pulled away and went to take your seat. The woman who lead you here was long gone by that point to go aid people who wanted to play with the cats that all lounged in the center of the beautiful cafe. Meanwhile, your eyes looked to the drink that he sipped on. “Looks good,” you hummed.

“Thank you. I got it for you.” Getou stiffly responded. You raised a brow with surprise. “You did?” You took the drink off of the table and observed the top of the cup. “What’s in this?”

”It's your favorite.” Oh… he still remembered. That was so cute. It was months ago, yes, but you truly expected him not to remember or care about what your favorite drink was. It was a kind gesture, though. You took his offer to drink it and did so. It was nice, and it made you happy.

Silence overcame the both of you. You didn't mind, though. Your eyes wandered to those who played with the kittens, primarily children. It was an adorable sight. The cafe itself wasn't packed, but it was still enough to make an introvert uncomfortable. Moments had passed when you realized that you were far too caught up in enjoying the sights, and not a word had been uttered between you two. It must've been awkward for him, right?

“So, I…” you started.

“I was hoping you could reconsider everything. About our relationship.” Getou overrode whatever you had to say. You stared at him, baffled by his words. Reconsider what? Not being in a relationship with him? “Why is that?” You asked. Getou folded his hands over his lap. His head hung a bit while his eyes lingered on the drink on the table. ”I just don’t think that there’s anyone else in this world that is worthy of being in the position to be with you,” he responded, “I don’t think anyone can protect you like I can. Like I would be able to if it was necessary for me to.”

You sat back and absorbed this information. Your eyes looked everywhere before landing back on his, and to your surprise, he was staring right back at you, as if his gaze was on you the entire time. Why were you even considering this? You had a partner.

”Getou,” you quietly cooed. “It’s a bit too late for that, now.” You assumed a worried expression. “I’m… dating someone now—“

His expression remained unchanged. “Break up with them,” he said bluntly. Your eyes widened with shock. Did he not respect what you have and what you were, now that the two of you weren’t together? “What the hell, Getou?” You furrowed your brows. “You don’t mean that—“

“I do. Break up with them.” He interrupted you.

”Did you invite me here just to say this?” You narrowed your eyes. “This isn’t funny.”

”I didn’t realize I was saying something that solicited a humorous reaction,” He was being completely serious. How terrifying. "Umm, no," you folded your arms over your chest while you glared at him. "If this is all we're going to talk about, then I'm leaving." You checked him over for any signs of a reaction before you reached down to grab your belongings. "It was nice seeing you," you said. However, Getou grabbed your wrist and squeezed it firmly, making you look up at him with an exasperated expression. "Please don't do this." You say softly. "Not in front of all of these people. Not in front of these children."

Your eyes began to feel heavy. You were beginning to feel heavy, like the world was putting all of its weight on you.

"Then I'll make it easier for us both,"

Getou stood with you, making the both of you rise. Instant attention came your way, as it often did when someone did something out of the norm. Behavior that was introduced to humans as children, where they'd watch someone walk in and out of a room. As you were older, it didn't make you any less uncomfortable. You smiled worriedly and forced yourself to grab his hand, threading your fingers together while a smug grin rested over his expression. He reached into his wallet with his free hand to produce the yen necessary to tip off the waitress who would be attending to the table, and then he began his trek away from the area. You were forced to follow him out of the cafe and into the street.

At this rate, you were depending on him to keep yourself afloat. You found yourself leaning into him and clinging to him. His hand squeezed yours, and you looked over at him. "It's just like the old days," he spoke softly, a gleam in his eye, and a smile on his face. You felt the entire opposite. "I'm feeling unwell..." you meekly coo to him, "I need to go home."

"Then I'll call a cab for you. It's the least I can do, right?" He said cheerfully. "You are going through a lot right now."

"Thank you..." you gently moved away from him. He let your hand drift away from his. You stumbled to the side, nearly into someone else. Getou pulled you back to his side, just as the person spoke up to voice their concern. "Are they okay?" They asked Getou, referring to you. He looked down at you and wrapped his arm around your body. "Feeling unwell. I'm getting a taxi, don't worry."

"Alright... well... I hope you two feel better." They say and wave their hand goodbye to you as they stepped away. You watched, feeling much like Tom while he was drunk, your eyelids lazily blinking as a car pulled up into your peripheral. Oh good, your taxi. "Thank you so much, Getou. I don't know what's come over me..." you utter.

He helps you into the taxi. You utter your thanks and focus on seating yourself and strapping yourself in. Thinking on it now, having your significant other pick you up would've been the better option, but you trusted Getou enough to help you leave.

But to your surprise, Getou gets in the car. "W-what..?" You stir from your tired state and sober up a bit to glare at him. "What's going on?"

"Did you think that I was going to let you have a say in this?" He asked you. He held his hand out to your nose and waggled his fingers in a beckoning motion. "The curse did a good job, didn't it, [Y/N]? Now I don't have to see you put up a helpless fight. You can come out now, Kiri."

You only caught a glimpse of the mischievous blob of black that resembled Kiri before your world went black.

Your eyes opened. Groggily, you rise and scratch your head. "[N]?" You call for your significant other. There was no response. This was your home, right? "Doesn't it look cozy?" That answered your question. You could see Getou emerging from around the corner. "I made sure to copy it down to the smallest detail. Anything for you and the life that we could've had together, [Y/N]."

"Could've had..?"

"I've been pining for this exact moment. To be able to finally call you mine in a house that I'll no longer be alone in!" He made his way over to the bed you laid in. You started to move away from him. "No!" You shouted at him. "Get away from me!"

"Don't deny me this moment! I have spent months, months trying to get into this exact position!" Getou snapped at you. He clambered over your body and forced you to stare into his eyes. "You don't get a say in anything. We're going to live as we should've lived. I'll take [N]'s place as your beloved. We'll live happily together, you and I."

He couldn't cope with the rejection.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere getou #getou suguru #getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen #gender neutral insert #reader insert

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years ago

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When the Chips are Down

part 14

masterlist

Happy Mother’s Day, my darlings!--- Chaotic puff

It had been an incredibly bad day for Namjoon. Taehyung had been stabbed. Iyla had run away, and he had an increasingly irritable, very pregnant wife at home that was going to crucify him if anything happened to her little sister. Taehyung would be fine, and Iyla would be apprehended and brought back home, but neither of those things were going to mollify his wife. Y/N was nothing if not protective when it came to her little sister.

All in all, he was very close to snapping and shooting someone out of sheer spite when his phone rang again, the caller ID informing him it was Jungkook. His blood ran cold. Jungkook was the one keeping an eye on Y/N, and he knew better than to call when Namjoon was busy with something as important as this unless it was something of equal or greater importance.

“What happened?” he demanded, answering his phone earning himself a concerned look from Hoseok. There was a jumbled and panicked stream of words from Jungkook, but Namjoon picked out the important bits, Y/N and baby. Y/N was having the baby. “I’ll be right there.” he promised, cursing under his breath. “Call Jin and have him get everything together. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asked, eyeing the other man warily. It was unusual to see Namjoon looking so shocked.

“Y/N’s in labor.”

---

Jungkook was in a frenzy. He knew nothing about babies let alone birthing babies, and seeing Y/N in pain was making him nauseous. Luckily, Miss In and the maids seemed to know exactly what to do. They’d lept into action as soon as he’d told them what was happening. Miss In made a phone call to Jin who apparently would assemble the medical staff, and the maid, Miran or at least that’s what he thought Y/N had called her, ushered both him and Y/N to the back of the house where a birthing suite had been prepared for just this occasion.

He’d been swiftly kicked out of the room so that Miran could get Y/N into the delivery gown which gave him time to call his hyung and tell him what was happening. Namjoon had already had a stressful day, but there was no way he would want to be away from Y/N while she was in labor.

“It’s going to be okay, noona.” he smiled shakily, watching her pace back and forth with her hands braced against her lower back. “Hyung is going to be home soon.”

“Did they find Iyla?” she asked, looking at him briefly as she turned in her pacing.

The younger man flushed knowing full well he didn’t have an answer for her let alone the answer she wanted. “I don’t know.”

“I’m going to kill him.” she hissed bracing herself against the bed as she was hit with a contraction.

“He’ll be here soon.”

“I’m going to kill him.” she repeated with a groan as she began pacing again.

Jungkook smiled. At least her fighting spirit was still burning brightly, and soon enough he’d have a little niece to play with, one who was hopefully less grumpy than Yoongi’s baby. Yoonho tended to get fussy when anyone other than his parents held him which was a huge deterrent when trying to be an uncle especially to a bunch of men who didn’t have a whole lot of experience with kids. But if this little girl was anything like her mother, they were going to get along famously.

“Do you know what you’re going to call her?” he asked as she turned to cross the room again.

“I have a few ideas, but I’m waiting to see her before I pick one.” she smiled softly. “I could take one look at her and decide I don’t like any of the names I picked out.”

“I’m going to be her favorite uncle!”

“Probably.” she nodded. There were five other options, but Jungkook was like her little brother. It felt natural to think of Jungkook being the favorite uncle. “Just don’t get her into too much trouble okay?”

“No promises.” his nose scrunched up in a mischievous grin just as Namjoon came barreling into the room looking every bit the frazzled father to be.

---

Namjoon had never been more exhausted or excited in his life. It had already been a long stressful day between Taehyung’s stabbing and Iyla’s attempt to escape, but their baby was finally on the way. But even with all the excitement, there was lingering worry as well. Even with all the medical personnel wandering about and Jin’s reassurances that everything was fine, he couldn’t stop the panic that shot through him every time Y/N hissed in pain. Logically, he knew that child birth was painful, but he hated to see her in pain, and it only seemed to get worse the longer her labor progressed.

It had been a long labor, nearly twenty hours and still going. Jin assured him that since it was her first time, a prolonged labor wasn’t unusual, but that didn’t make it any less worrying. Ever since he’d brought her home, she’d shied away from his touch as much as possible, but twenty hours in and she was exhausted and slumped against his chest, her hair mussed and a little sweaty.

“How many centimeters?” She whimpered looking up at him pleadingly.

“Still five, jagiya.” He whispered pressing a kiss to her forehead and bracing them both as she was hit with another contraction. They weren’t regular yet, and the nurses said they weren’t very strong yet either, but to Y/N and Namjoon they seemed horrible. He was sure that both of his hands were going to be bruised by the end of this, but his pain was nothing compared to hers.

He had thought that the baby would be here by now, but she’d progressed slowly and had been stalled at five centimeters for what seemed like ages.

“It can’t still be five.” She groaned leaning further back into his chest. “It was five an hour ago, and the hour before that.”

“I know, jagi. I’m sorry. Just a little longer.” He promised shifting them back so that they were a little more reclined on the hospital bed. “Try to get some rest, jagi.”

“This is your fault.” She hissed.

“I know, jagi.” He cooed soothingly. This wasn’t the first time she’d said it. “Get some rest.”

“I can’t.” She groaned, burying her face into his shoulder.

“I know you’re not feeling great now, but just think, we’ll have our baby soon.”

She groaned again, rubbing a hand across her belly. “No. She’s never coming out. She hates me.”

“Our baby doesn’t hate you.” He chuckled, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “She’s just taking her time.”

“Tell her to hurry up.” She grumbled shifting again as she couldn’t get comfortable.

“I’ll try.”

Rest had been a rarity throughout the ordeal. Y/N was in constant discomfort, and Namjoon was at a loss of how to help.

Namjoon didn’t move an inch until Y/N had drifted into a fitful slumber. He eased her back onto the pillows and got up to stretch and to get himself some coffee. This was going to go on for a while yet if her earlier progress was anything to go by.

“Jin,” He sighed walking over to where his friend was also grabbing some caffeine. “Is it supposed to take this long?”

“She’s stalled. First time labor can take a while, but it’s going to be a long one even for a first time mother.” He sighed giving his friend a tired smile. “I should have known your kid would be difficult.” Jin teased lightly bumping Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Not for the moment.” Jin shook his head tiredly. “She and the baby are fine, just tired, and she’s still in latent labor. The best we can do is keep her comfortable and hope things get moving soon. If she or the baby is in distress, we’ll intervene. Is she sleeping?”

“For now.” Namjoon sighed flopping down into a chair exhausted. It had been a long day.

“You should get some rest too.” Namjoon was going to argue, but Jin cut him off. “You’re no good to her if you’re dead on your feet. I’ll have them set up a cot for you in her room.” Jin cut him off again as he was about to open his mouth. “Don’t you dare interrupt her rest. She needs every minute she can get. You’ll take the cot.”

“But…”

“She’ll be three feet away. Take the cot, or I’ll send you up to your room.” he threatened.

Y/N had never been more exhausted in her entire life. She was tired. She was cranky, and she didn’t have the one person she actually wanted with her. It didn’t help that the labor seemed to stretch on for eons. The gynecologist, a kind if not stern woman that she wanted nothing more than to rip the throat out of, assured her that things would start moving again soon, but she said that every time she came to check in. The labor and delivery nurses that had been summoned were far more honest. They explained that first time moms could be in labor for sixteen to twenty hours, but it had been twenty hours, and she still wasn’t even close to having her baby in her arms.

The epidural helped, but contractions still hurt. Everything ached really, and she had to grudgingly admit that even if he wasn’t who she wanted with her, Namjoon was a fairly good birth partner. He put up with her whining and crushing his hands. He fetched ice chips and rubbed her shoulders. Namjoon had held her hand and kept her calm when they’d given her the partial epidural. She was fine with needles usually, but there was something about a needle that large being inserted into her spine that made her extremely nervous.

Miss In had been more than ready to usher her away to a birth suite that had been prepared in the depths of the mansion that she hadn’t even known about. Namjoon had been summoned home in a panic and immediately brought to her side in the suite. It had to be the nicest hospital type room she had ever been in, and she had been studying to be a nurse before Namjoon had thrown her life off course. She did clinicals though, and they never brought her to the VIP wing of the hospital. The hospital she did clinicals at wasn’t even fancy enough to have a VIP wing.

Namjoon’s position had its advantages. It was nice to have such a comfortable room when she was in so much discomfort. There were even real pillows instead of the thin pathetic ones that normally occupied hospital rooms, and normal pillows were so much more comfortable. Even the hospital gown she’d been forced into was more comfortable than the normal ones. It was made of a soft material that didn’t irritate her skin and allowed her to keep her modesty even though there were monitors hooked up to her belly. Every comfort was appreciated when labor stretched on so long.

It took another thirteen horrible hours for Y/N to be fully dilated, and as much as both she and Namjoon hoped that it would all be over after thirty-three hours of labor, but their baby was a stubborn one who was refusing to drop so that Y/N could finally start pushing. If Namjoon had thought the last thirty-three hours were bad, he had another thing coming.

By the time the baby was crowning, another three long painful hours had passed, and both parents were exhausted.

There had been screaming, crying, cursing. Y/N had threatened his life at more than one point. He couldn’t blame her for that after the labor she’d been through. No one could blame her.

“You have to push, jagi.” Namjoon encouraged holding his poor exhausted wife up as the doctors waited for the next contraction to come.

“I want Mark.” she sobbed, exhausted and sweaty against his chest.

“I know, jagi.” he whispered, soothingly even though the words cut him like a knife.

“Where is he?” she whimpered. “He promised.”

He hated seeing her in so much distress, and he knew he couldn’t blame her for anything she said right now. She was in so much pain and exhausted, but he hated hearing her call out for another man. He hated it with every fiber of his being.

“You’re alright, jagi. I’m right here.” he winced slightly as she squeezed his hands. “You’re doing so well.”

“I’m so tired.” She slurred, her head lolled back against his shoulder.

“I know, jagi, but the baby’s almost here.” He cooed feeling her tense up again as the next contraction hit.

Namjoon did his part keeping her braced as she did the real work hunching forward with a scream as the next contraction ripped through her. There was nothing else he could do for her at the moment.

“And we have the head.” The OB, Dr. Yang if Namjoon remembered correctly but there were a lot of doctors milling around, announced cheerily seemingly unaffected by his wife’s pain.

“Almost done.” He hushed as Y/N flopped back against him again. “Just a little more.” He promised even though he didn’t know if he should be relieved or worried that she was no longer screaming profanities at him. There had been a solid two hours of that once the contractions had gotten bad. Even with the partial epidural, she’d been in a great amount of pain.

A few more pushes and their baby was born. A strong little warbling cry filled the room much to the relief of both parents.

“Congratulations!” The doctor beamed showing them the red scrunched up face of their baby. “You have a healthy little girl.”

“She’s beautiful.” She sighed smiling through her exhaustion as she stared at the face of her little girl.

“What should we call her?” Namjoon asked, running a gentle hand up and down her arms.

“Nara. Her name is Nara.” Y/N smiled tiredly.

“We need to check her over, and we still have the placenta to deliver. We’ll bring her right back though. Okay, mom?” The doctor smiled, looking incredibly relieved that the ordeal that had been this delivery was almost over.

Y/N whined reaching out shakily for the baby as she was whisked away from her, but one of the nurses urged her to stay in bed. Even Namjoon knew she was too weak to get up quite yet. She looked like she was going to pass out from exhaustion at any moment.

“Don’t worry, jagi.” Namjoon shushed, gently shifting out from behind her settling her gently against the pillows. “I’ll go with her. I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

Namjoon was more than a little curious to take a better look at his daughter. He had hoped for a boy, an heir, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed. He had a little princess. After thirty-seven hours of waiting, he had Nara. His Nara.

The doctor checked her over and cleaned her up before handing him the little girl. He was amazed as he stared down at her. She stared up at him with dark eyes, and the tiniest bit of hair stuck out from under the little hat the doctor had put her in, and she was the most perfect thing that Namjoon had ever seen, tiny and perfect and his. Namjoon was half convinced that he was going to break her if he moved to quickly or shifted the wrong way, but there was something indescribable about having this tiny perfect being in his arms and knowing she was his that he had helped make her even if it came with the crippling fear of dropping her.

Namjoon knew immediately that he would do anything for her. She’d have nothing but the best, and nothing would ever harm her. She’d be the most spoiled little girl there ever was just as it should be for his little princess.

“Y/N?” He heard Jin’s panicked voice from across the room. “Y/N!”

Namjoon immediately whipped around searching for Y/N among the doctors and nurses that were now buzzing around her bed.

“Jagi?” He asked, approaching her bed and seeing a concerning amount of red on the sheets before Jin ushered him away. “Y/N?” He called again more frantically as he struggled as much as he could against Jin while he had Nara in his arms. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong with her?” he demanded as Jin pushed him further back.

“She’s bleeding... a lot.” Jin explained in a rush. “She tore, and it looks like she might be hemorrhaging.”

“Hemorrhaging?” Namjoon panicked once more trying to move forward to get back to her side.

“We’re going to do all we can, but we can’t work with you hovering over us. Besides, you have the baby to think of.”

“But…”

“I will tell you as soon as I have something to tell you, but you need to let us work.” Jin urged casting a concerned glance back at the bed. “Take Nara outside. I’ll tell you more when I know more.”

“Jin...”

“We’re prepared. We have blood ready to transfuse, and the equipment we need. If things get bad we’ll move her to the clinic.” he promised.

“She can’t die, hyung. I just got her back.” Namjoon growled, staring at the doctors buzzing around her. “She can’t. I need her. The baby needs her.”

“She won’t.” Jin assured even though there was a grim set to his mouth that told Namjoon that the situation wasn’t good despite his assurances.

“I can’t… I can’t lose her.”

“Go. Take care of your daughter. We’ll take care of Y/N.” Jin pushed him out the door only for them both to freeze as the sound of one long drawn out ‘beeeeeep’ filled the room.

part 15

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handsmotif · 4 years ago

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The Queercoding of Pinky and the Brain

This originally was just me infodumping to my friends on discord, but I decided it might be interesting to some people on here, so I polished it up and made it an actual essay lmao

To start, we’re going to break this into 2 sections -- the relationship between the mice, and Pinky’s relationship with gender, because queercoding doesn’t just mean gay!

For a 90′s show, Pinky and the Brain (and its mother show, Animaniacs) was very progressive for its time! But there were still lots of things that they couldn’t slip by censors, and thus, that’s where we have to read between the lines. And that is something I wanted to clarify here before we dive in, the actual meaning of queercoding. It’s NOT the same as queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is when the people producing certain media purposefully dangle the possibility of queer representation to lure in audiences (most prominent examples are BBC Sherlock, Riverdale, and Supernatural I GUESS? who knows abt that last one anymore), but never follow through, purely for profit. Queercoding is when media producers WANT to write in queer representation, but can’t, usually because the censors won’t let them. So, they must resort to subtext. (example: the policemen from Gravity Falls) It could also be unintentional, simply assigning certain characteristics associated with the LGBT community to characters. (example: Bugs Bunny, many Disney villains) Either way, it heavily relies on the audience picking up subtext, but whether it’s malicious or not varies, depending on the media. Bugs Bunny is an example of positive accidental queercoding, while a lot of Disney villains are negative examples.

Now, to actually discuss the gay little mice! Pinky and the Brain, whether it be intentional or not (based off comments from Maurice LaMarche, Rob Paulsen, and Tom Ruegger, signs strongly point to intentional, but it’s never been explicitly confirmed), is an example of positive queercoding.

There are many moments that I could pick out to discuss here, but we’ll start with some VERY on the nose gay metaphors.

Remember Romy? If you don’t, that’s their actual biological son! Romy came about due to a cloning accident, where their DNA got combined and spat him out.

There’s SO many things I could say about Romy. Every appearance he makes has an overarching gay metaphor as the plot. His first appearance in the episode Brinky (yeah it’s literally titled their ship name), it deals with his dads (WHICH I ALSO WANT TO POINT OUT, he DOES call them both dad, and they do both call him their son) disapproving of the fact that he wants to leave home and not follow in their footsteps of taking over the world. Brain even goes as far as disowning him whenever he tells him, which is certainly something a lot of queer people can unfortunately relate to. Also seen a lot in this episode is Pinky and Brain arguing even more than a married couple than usual, which pushes Romy away even further. Later, when Romy eventually does leave, and Brain starts to regret chasing him away, he tries desperately to reach out to him, but Romy doesn’t want anything to do with him. They end up tracking him down to an apartment building, where Romy is now living with his human girlfriend. When questioned about their relationship, the girlfriend, named Bunny, goes off on a tangent about how people shouldn’t judge others based on labels or relationships (hello?), and that Brain needs to be more tolerant. Brain apologizes and Romy forgives him. Happy ending.

Romy’s only other appearance is in the comics. Essentially, the plot of this one is that Brain wants to become the president of the local high school’s PTA, but he needs Romy’s help to make it look like he has a normal home life. He also enlists the help of Billie, the obligatory Woman introduced to make sure Brain doesn’t look as gay as he actually is, that he has a crush on. She pretends to be his girlfriend, and Pinky pretends to be Romy’s uncle, while they make up the story that Romy’s actual mother was lost at sea. Because if the organization found out that Brain has a son with a MAN??? THINK of the controversy! Anyway, the plan works, and Brain actually manages to get elected as president. Throughout this though, Pinky gets WEIRDLY jealous that Brain keeps brushing him aside for Billie. To the point where during Brain’s inauguration, Pinky actually dresses up as the wife/mother lost at sea and storms into the room.

[ID: Comic panels of Pinky, Brain, and Romy on stage at the inauguration ceremony. Pinky busts into room wearing drag, saying, “Yoo hoo! I’m back from years lost at sea to be with my son and ungrateful husband! Narf!” He then hugs Romy, while glaring at Brain. He goes on to say, “I’ll stand by your side, even though you left me behind!” The people in the audience begin to question this, saying, “Oh great fuzzy bangs!”, “What’d she say?!”, “He deserted her to be with that other woman!”, “What kind of monster is he?!”. Brain then rips off Pinky’s wig and says, “This isn’t my wife! This isn’t even a woman! It’s my roommate, Pinky.” Pinky replies, “Well, yes... But Romy really is my son! Poit!” And Brain responds, “N-Nonsense! He’s my son!” More people in the audience angrily speak up, saying, “What’s that?”, “He lives with a guy who likes to dress up in women’s clothing and the both claim to be that kid’s father!”, “Grumble! Mutter!” /END ID]

Needless to say, this doesn’t end well for them. What we can conclude from this is that homophobia exists in the Pinky and the Brain universe, and our characters are directly affected by it.

Moving on, And-There-Was-Only-One-Bed is a pretty common occurrence with these two. Their cage is big, they have plenty of room for two beds, but? They choose to sleep together? Even in some times where this has been inconsistent and they DO have separate beds, they’re always RIGHT next to each other. (what if we put our minecraft beds together ❤😳)

I would like to mention the episode, You’ll Never Eat Food Pellets In This Town Again! This episode is interesting to say the least. Deals with a lot of the meta of the show. Anyway. In this episode, Brain has a nightmare that he’s in a loveless marriage with Billie. You know, the woman he’s supposed to have a crush on. In the end, he wakes up from the nightmare in the same bed as Pinky.

Speaking of female love interests, Pinky is seen having multiple relationships with characters of different species. Any time this is brought up by Brain, Pinky counters with Brain being too intolerant. An honorable mention with this is in Wakko’s Wish, when Pinky is with Pharfignewton, and Brain’s constant pestering about their relationship could be read as jealousy. Pinky needs a mousy date, after all!

Something else I would like to mention is in one episode (I forget what it’s called, I’ll try to look it up later and edit this), Brain is applying for a job. The employer asks Brain if he’s married, and Brain hesitates before saying he “has a roommate,” but that he’s occupied with his own things, which then cuts to a shot of Pinky applying lipstick.

Leading into part two of this essay, Pinky’s relationship with gender! Pinky has always been very gender nonconforming, and loves to wear dresses, do his makeup, and make himself look pretty. For the most part, this is played pretty straight, and not as a gag, like a lot of shows tend to do! It’s just a casual fact about him that he likes to present femininely sometimes.

This does play into their taking over the world plans pretty often, where Pinky wears drag, usually either to sneak into somewhere. Like in one of their earliest appearances on Animaniacs, Noah’s Lark, where they pose as a couple to board Noah’s, and I quote, “love boat.” After boarding, Noah says to himself, “Who am I to judge?” Okay. Yeah. Alright. Anyway.

I actually had less to say on this than I thought I did, but I wanted to make sure to emphasize that Pinky at the very least is coded as being Not Quite Cis, and that he’s played a key part in helping a lot of people watching the show figure out that they’re also Not Quite Cis.

Wrapping this up because I’m hungry, but I want to throw in some more honorable mentions that I really do not see any type of cishet explanations for:

They literally go on a romantic date at a very fancy restaurant in Brain’s Night Off. This is played extremely casually, and the only remark from anyone that they receive is that they are “much smaller than the usual clients.”

Pinky, on at least one occasion, daydreams about him and Brain being a married couple, and wanting to be a housewife (the original malewife ❤)

There’s an issue in the comics where Pinky has a crush on another male mouse, and when Brain gets annoyed, Pinky reassures him that he thinks Brain is cute and quite the catch too

Brain attempting to kiss Pinky in the reboot??????

Brain actually did conquer the world once in the Halloween special, because Pinky made a deal with the devil for it, and thus Pinky got sent to hell! Brain actually went to hell and gave up the world to bring him back

Brain was extremely close to conquering the world once more in the Christmas special, but after reading what Pinky’s feelings for him were (nothing romantic, just Pinky basically just praising Brain for being so hardworking and an amazing mouse, and lamenting that he never gets anything for it), he gets so emotional that he sabotages himself and wishes everyone a Merry Christmas instead

TLDR; these mice are very queer and need therapy, and are probably the most heavily queercoded characters that I can think of in children’s media.

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #patb #brinky #FLOPS ON THE FLOOR this took a long time to write

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aubreyprc · 3 years ago

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four hands bloody

summary - entropy but, its hotch and emily. and they’re in love. that’s it.

part seven of my sour series

‘all the things I did,

just so I could call you mine,

all the things you did,

well i hope i was your favourite crime’

Ten Years Ago

One year, five months and four days. That's how long they had been together when she announced she had been offered a job in Europe. Interpol, to be exact, and that she was leaving for Brussels in less than two months. There was no argument, nor was there a discussion, he simply takes her out for dinner, a celebration on her success so fresh out of college and they spend their last two months preparing for their separation. They pack up her apartment, they place certain things in storage and other things in her Mother's house in D.C, one that was empty for most of the year anyway and they enjoy their last few weeks together. Confessing love under the sheets, whispers of promises they know neither are going to be able to keep and they pretend as though there's a chance they'll meet again, even though in reality, they know its unlikely. Her love for Europe one he's very well aware of, and he knows once she's there she will never leave and he wouldn't want her to, and she's aware that he would never move, too fond of the city, his heart set on a job in the FBI, and she wouldn't ask him to give that up, just like he'd never ask her.

He takes her to the airport, cupping her face, wiping her tears with a sad smile as he holds back his own when they stand at her gate, parting way's for the first and final time.

"I love you." he whispers to her, and the happy laugh she lets out as she sniffles has his own small laugh escaping his chest. She hooks her hands to the back of his neck as she kisses him softly, the cold of her tears latching onto his skin as he pulls her closer.

"I love you, too." she whispers as she pulls away, gently resting her forehead on his, closing her eyes while she takes a small breath. "I—" she says but she stops herself, opening her eyes as she pulls away from him, her eyes on his as they stand there, feeling as though they were the only two people in the area.

"You're going to miss your flight." he tells her gently as the last calling for her plane echo's through the airport.

"I can't say goodbye to you." she whispers sadly, lacing her fingers through his as they rest in the middle of them.

"Then don't." He says, squeezing her hand as he entwines it with his, wiping her tears with the other, and she leans her face into it with a sad smile. "Think of it more as an... I'll see you later." he smiles to her and she laughs.

"Okay." she nods, "I'll see you later." she smirks.

"Go," he tells her, nodding as she slowly backs away, "I'm a phone call away."

"I love you." she tells him again as she steps back.

"I know," he says, "I love you too."

And just like that, with one last smile, she turns, her dark hair moving further out of focus until she is just a memory he can look back on, a woman he loved once.

Had he known just who that woman who turn into, he would have never let her get on the plane. Would have kept her in his arms, and then maybe none of this would have happened.

JJ runs into the briefing room, relief running through her veins as she finally has an ID on the killer they had been chasing for four months, a woman, who had a signature that matches one of an International terrorist, Ian Doyle, their first suspect as soon as the first two body's dropped, two Interpol agents, Clyde Easter and Sean McAllister, until he was found dead, and had been dead, a week longer than the two Agents, as well as his entire inner circle. His son still a missing person.

"I have an ID on her," JJ says as she rushes in, dropping the files on the table as she grabs the attention of the team. "All the Agent's who worked The Valhalla case last year have all been killed, apart from three who have been placed into witsec, using the the same signature Ian Doyle used," she tells them as she clicks on the screen. "Which made me think that it had to be someone Ian knew, right? Someone he trusted."

"What are you getting at?"

"Ian had a fiancé," JJ says, "Which we already knew, I know, however this is where it got interesting." she tells them as she clicks on the screen, "Ian, had a son, Declan, and everyone in Interpol had come to the conclusion that he and his inner circle were killed by another terrorist group and that his Fiancée would have taken Declan at his orders. But," she stops, “His Fiancée was a CIA agent, deep undercover, the Agents on the case just assumed he had killed her the moment she was made, her cover blown just the day before he was killed but there has been no record of her death anywhere."

"Who was she?" Morgan asks, looking through the files.

"Her cover name was Lauren Reynolds, and all files, pictures… everything was completely wiped when the case agents were found dead so its been impossible to find her real identify, to know if she had been found, dead or alive. So, I had Garcia work her magic..."

"Yes," The blonde says, standing up, clicking a few buttons on her computer as she pulls up the files she had recovered. "Lauren Reynolds, arms dealer, you know, everything that would be needed in a fake identify to get into the big leagues, but after searching around and doing several face recognitions, the same woman appeared, and its her. There is no doubt." Penelope tells the team.

"Who?"

"CIA Agent, Emily Prentiss." JJ says and the room goes silent as they stare at her picture on the right of Lauren Reynolds, the similarity leaving no questions, the only difference being in hair colour.

"She's the killer?" Reid asks.

"She's the only one from JTF-12 who's still alive, has the training, knows how to vanish, would have intimate knowledge of Ian, which is why the kills are exactly the same as his were."

"Do we think she's killed other people apart from the Agents?" Morgan questions

"She's vendetta driven, she'd kill anyone who came under that vendetta." JJ answers, "She fits the profile."

"Prentiss..." Rossi mumbles, "Why does that sound familiar?"

The room is silent, neither noticing Aaron pale as he stares at the picture in front of him. His mind running wild with questions.

"You worked for Ambassador Prentiss, right?" Dave asks Hotch, "Before you worked here?"

Hotch just nods, unable to trust his voice as his eye's move from the picture of her to the descriptions of her crime.

"Did you ever meet her?" Morgan asks, but Aaron doesn't answer, just simply stands.

"Excuse me." he says, before basically rushing from the briefing room and to his office, the sound of his door shutting echoing into the room.

"I'll take that as a yes." Morgan says, looking back at the picture on the screen. "That's her, huh."

"That's her."

"Now what?" Reid asks, and Rossi stands.

"I guess that all depends on what Aaron knows about her."

Slamming his office door shut behind him, he closes his eyes, taking deep breathes as his stomach turns to the point where he thinks he might be sick, the image of her on their board making his head spin with reasons, questions, but mostly, it just shows him flashes of the woman he knew, all those years ago, the woman who would smile at him from under his covers when he brought them back breakfast from his morning run, the woman who would kiss him so gently he theorised right there that she could never hurt anyone, the young woman he loved so much and who he knew loved him back just as equally now painted as a murderer, profiled, as a murderer, probably a murderer and he can't wrap his head around it, how someone so innocent and full of joy and happiness could switch so drastically and become of the most notorious and well known killers the BAU had looked for, how someone so light and full of life could become someone who took it from others, killing higher commanding agents from all sorts of government positions, leaving no trace except an M.O that leads back to a man he realises she knew well, probably even loved and he can't understand it.

"Aaron." Dave says as he opens the door, "I gather you knew her, back when you worked security?" he asks almost gently. He closes the door behind him, heading further into the office while Aaron stood at the window, staring out of it while he caught his breath, forcing the sick feeling to vanish.

"Something like that..." he mumbles, looking down to the floor as his heart rate lowers, his breaths evening out.

"How well did you know her?" Dave asks, taking a seat; Aaron turns, looking at his oldest friend with a face that tells him all he needs to know and the older man just looks at him with shock, before nodding his head. "Very well, it seems."

"Dave—" he begins but the older man shakes his head.

"This was years ago, the woman she is now wouldn't have been the woman you knew, there's no reason for explanations, not to me."

Aaron just nods, "So, what now?"

"Now, we come up with a plan of how to get her out of hiding, she hasn't been seen by anyone, that were aware of but she has to be somewhere, right?"

"She's CIA. She could be anywhere, she knows how to work the system better than anyone."

"Then we use something personal, give her a reason to show up, let her play her game."

"She never got on well with her mother I doubt anything like that would bring her out—" he stops when the older man looks at him, "What? Me?"

"Do you think it would work? Were you involved enough to have you be someone she'd want to see?"

"Dave, it was ten years ago."

"Yes," he tells him, "Which is why I'm asking how involved you were..."

"We were— It was..." Aaron says, before sighing, "Using me as bait might not work, she could be—"

"Did she love you?"

"What?"

"Emily, back then, did she love you?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then using you as bait will work." Dave says, standing up, "Trust me."

"You have a plan?"

"Sort of, but we have to tell the rest. All of it."

Aaron rolls his eyes, turning again to look out of the window.

"She needs catching, Aaron, she will find the last three, and she will kill them. We need to know why."

"I know," Hotch tells him, "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

He explains it to them, how he and Emily had dated ten years ago, before she got offered a job at Interpol, he explains that he hasn't heard from her in years and that he isn't even sure the plan will work, but they have to try. Said plan, being putting out their first press conference since they got the case, with Aaron, who will explain they have an ID on the killer and that they are close to catching them, their hope being that Emily will see it and reach out to him, knowing that with her ties to the CIA, she would have no issue finding his number.

"And if she reaches out?" Morgan asks, "Then what?"

"We let her set the terms, but we'll get her. If she calls, if this works, we'll get her. We would have found a weak spot." Reid tells them, "Love."

It does work, it take's a few days, but it works.

He's in his office, running through some reports when his phone rings.

"Hotchner."

"You have my attention," The voice on the other line says and he tenses, before he stands, clicking to the team as they follow him to the briefing room. "If I knew you were the Agent on the case I would have called sooner. I always did love it when I was the centre of your attention." she tells him just before he puts the phone on speaker.

"So you know we've figured it out? That it's you who's killing these agents?"

"I'm not worried." she says easily, they can hear her walking around somewhere, as though they were having a causal conversation, as though she wasn't an international killer, an assassin.

"Why's that?"

"Because, if I hadn't have called now, you would never have found me. I'm still two steps ahead." she says with a smirk. "That was the plan, right? For me to call?"

"It was." he says, looking at Garcia as she tries to trace the call.

"How about dinner?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Dinner, you know? Two people at a restauran—"

"I know what dinner is." he grumbles, hates that he can envision the smirk on her face, hates that it gives him butterflies. “What's your game?"

"No game," she tells him, "but, I figured if I'm going to be interrogated it might as well be over a nice three course meal."

"How do you know you won't be arrested on the scene?"

"Because if there was any evidence against me at all, I'd already be in your interrogation room." she tells him, "All you have is Ian's M.O, the death of my old team, and the fact that I was undercover... I'm CIA, Aaron, I know everything."

"So, you want to get dinner?"

"Sure," she says, as though she was accepting an invitation. "How does Saturday fit in with your schedule?"

The team nod at him, so he accepts.

"I have one condition." she tells him, "It's just you. No wire. No team."

"You know we can't do that.”

"Not even if were just two old friends catching up?" she teases, "Where's your sense of adventure, Aaron?"

"It's a wire or my team."

"Dealers choice," she teases, “if I get away don't feel too bad about it, I just don't think orange is my colour." she tells him, before the line goes dead.

"Anything?" Morgan asks Garcia, who shakes her head.

"Somewhere in Italy, no pin point location."

His phone beeps on the table then, and Rossi gently turns the screen to him.

"The name of the Restaurant and a time."

"Do you think this will work?"

"I think it's the best chance we've got."

His phone beeps again.

"Your team or a wire, not both, and if I find out you lied, someone will die, Aaron. I don't play games." Morgan reads aloud.

"You have to have both."

"You read the message—"

"No wire and there's no recorded confession, and we lose her, no back up and she could do anything." JJ tells him.

"We'll figure something out." Dave says, clasping the man on the back. "We're this close."

Aaron nods, but something tells him this wont be as easy as they predict.

Despite his protests, he's told he has to wear a wire, explanations of needing both eyes and ears on him (them) at at times. He steps into the restaurant, noticing JJ and Morgan sat at the table three away from his, sending them a nod as he sits down, he then notices Reid sat at the bar, then Dave sat at the table on the other side.

"You ready sir?" Penelope says down his ear piece from the unmarked van out front, "She's on her way in."

His heart hammers in his chest as he prepares himself, nerves racing through his body as he see's her for the first time in ten years and its nothing like he thought he would. He always imagined they'd get called to a case in Europe and she'd be there, or she would move back to the US and they'd bump into each other in the supermarket. But this? Meeting her in a restaurant because she's killed more than ten people in the span of a year? This he never imagined, because who would?

She's smirking as she walks over, the slit of her dress showing of her left leg and it almost leaves him breathless. She reaches the table in what feels like slow motion, every head in the place turned to face her as her heels clack on the hard floor, each one entranced by her. Even members of the team. Even him.

He stands once she's a few inches from him and soon she's right there, it’s then he realises he's just as enthralled by her as he was ten years ago, it has his stomach tightening. He nods at her as she smiles at him with the tilt of her head and a twinkle in her eye that he's seen before and suddenly it's ten years ago and there's no FBI, no dead Interpol and CIA agents, just them.

"No hug?" she teases, but he just stares, watching as her eyes move around the restaurant before back at him. "I see you went for team. Good choice." she says, taking a seat in the booth. "That mean's no wire, correct?"

"Correct." he lies, taking a seat across from her, watching as she grabs the wine menu.

"Good." she says casually as her eyes cast over the menu. "The one at the bar looks ten, are you sure he's qualified?"

It takes all of him not to laugh, her humour unchanged, the one thing that caught his attention in the first place all those years ago.

"I'm sure." he nods, looking down at his own menu as he rolls his lips.

"You can laugh, you know." Penelope tells him, "She's funny."

He simply clears his throat.

The waiter come over, she orders them a bottle of wine, before looking right back at him.

"It's been awhile." she tells him, "It seems we have a lot to catch up on."

He raises an eyebrow at her, "Yeah, I'd say so."

"Tell me about your life, Aaron." she smirks, knowing full well it's a game he isn't interested in playing.

"You want to have small talk?"

She just smiles, thanking the waiter as he places the wine on the table.

"Like you said, we have a lot to catch up on."

"That's not why were here."

"Then why are we?"

"Emily—" he says and her eyes catch his, her name coming off his tongue catching her off guard; she clears her throat as she picks up the glass.

"You have a tan line on your ring finger," she points out while bringing the glass to her lips, "either you took it off for my benefit, or you're recently divorced." she smirks, raising an eyebrow as he clenches his fist at the table, running his thumb over where his ring used to be, "Does it make me a bad person to hope its the latter?" she whispers to him, leaning over the table to trance her finger across his arms, laughing when he slowly pulls away, bringing her hand back to rest around the glass. "Divorced or game playing, Agent Hotchner?"

"Why?" he asks, "Does it make a difference."

"Yes." she tells him, "Either you're divorced, or you thought you could flirt your way into getting me into the back of a SWAT van, which just insults both our intelligence at this point." she says, before looking at him, "I'm not a toy, Aaron, you cant play with me till I give you want you want."

"I never planned to." he tells her, "Divorced."

"Kids?"

"Yes."

She nods, leaning back on the chair as she throws her eyes over to the blonde woman, an agent, she knows, and waves, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

"Your team aren't very good at blending in, Agent Hotchner." she mumbles, looking back at him, "Aren't you supposed to be profilers?"

"You already knew they were coming, why hide them?"

"Hm," she shrugs, "A challenge, maybe."

"Is that why you killed your old team? A challenge?"

"Really keen on getting down to business aren't we..." she chuckles, leaning her chin in her hand as she rests her elbow on the table. "No small talk?"

"Isn't that what we've been doing for the last half an hour?"

"Here I thought we were just reacquainting."

"Why did you do it?"

"I have my reasons."

"Then share them." he says, "You called me, Emily. You came here, why?"

"Maybe I just missed you." she muses, "Would that be so bad?"

"Not if it was the truth, but it's not."

"How do you know?"

"Because I don't think you're capable of those feelings anymore." he tells her, watches as her face falls for a moment before she smirks, her mask back in place, "You were, but something happened and it changed you. You've killed eleven people, five of which you considered friends... I don't think anyone is capable of feeling anything after that, how could they be?"

"Maybe I can compartmentalise." she offers with a smirk.

"Not this well." Aaron sighs, "Why come out of hiding? Why come here knowing there's a chance you could go to jail, why risk it.. If it wasn't to talk?"

Emily looks at her glass, rolling her lips as she sits straighter and clears her throat.

"Like I said," she tells him, "Maybe I just missed you." her voice is more soft as she says it this time, a voice that brings back memories from ten years ago, when she was the woman he loved, when they were happy.

"What happened to you?" he asks gently, looking at her as she catches his eyes, her mask falling and a look of pain staring back at him. She lifts up her glass, brining it to her lips.

"They got me in too deep and left me to die," she tells him, "Karma's a bitch."

"Undercover? As Lauren?"

She sighs, dropping her glass, looking around the restaurant at the other Agents slyly looking in her direction.

"I said no wire," she mutters under her breath and he tenses, "I said you could have your team but no wire. Those were my conditions."

"I'm not—"

"Don't lie to me, Aaron." she tells him, watching as the Agents in the room start to move, another hint that he is in fact wearing one. She looks at him with a head tilt, "I said no wire."

"Rules are rules—" he starts, and she nods, dragging her tongue across her front teeth before she looks him dead in the eye, yet this time it isn't pain that looks back at him, it's something else entirely, something he has never seen from her before and it has terror climbing through him.

"They sure are," she agrees, "Do you remember mine?"

And he does, they all do, if i find out you lied, tricked me in anyway, someone will die, Aaron. I don't play games. Her words running wild in everyone's head as she looks around the restaurant.

"Emily—" he tries but she's already standing as is the rest of his team, their guns aimed at her and she laughs almost viciously once she's on her feet, the team surrounding her at all angles.

"No one shoot." Aaron tells them as they stand, gun's aimed at her.

"You should listen to your boss." she smirks, pulling her own gun from her inner thigh from a slit in her dress, clicking it as she grabs a man from the table behind her, gun to his head as she smiles.

"Now," Emily sighs, "Are you going to let an innocent man die because you couldn't follow my simple instructions?"

"Emily, just, everyone out their guns down." he says, "Now." he orders and the team lower their weapons cautiously. "You want the wire gone the wire can be gone."

"Too little too late for that I'm afraid."

“You wanted to talk, right? You came all this way. You risked a lot.” he tries, “I’ll remove the wire and we can talk. Just us.”

Emily stares at him, catching her eyes on his before she pushes the man down, placing the gun back on the strap on her tigh before she takes small steps towards him, smirking as she the others agents watch her carefully.

She places her hand on his chest, feels the wire and before he knows it she’s yanking it from him, the device falling to the floor and everyone in the room jumps as she slams her heel into it.

“You broke my trust.” she tells him, their eyes meeting. “You want to talk?”

“Yes.” he nods.

“Then come with me,” she smiles, “No team. No wire. And I’ll tell you whatever you want.”

“Emily. You know I can’t do that.”

“Why?” she asks with the tilt of her head, “You're going to act like there wasn't a plan B? I'm sure there's a voice recorder...” she stops, raising an eyebrow as if to challenge him, before she rolls her eyes, pulling the voice recorder from the back of the booth and throws it at him.

"Shall we?" she smirks.

He’s silent for a moment, before he accepts and she smiles, holding her hand out for him to take and he sighs before placing his own in it.

They walk out of the restaurant, as they pass Morgan and Reid she smiles.

“Don’t wait up.” she winks, and they’re out of the building.

“I’ll drive,” she smiles, pulling his car keys from his back pocket with a wink.

He doesn’t dare look back as they get into his car, and as they speed down the road, something tells him this won’t end well. He doesn’t see how it could.

She parks the car on the streets, turning the engine off before she looks at him.

"Do you know where we are?"

He turns to face her, his expression soft as he nods.

"Of course." he tells her, "We're a few blocks from-"

"The car has a tracker," she smirks, "Come on."

She jumps out of the car, all but slamming the door before she ventures down the street, a carefree stride as her heels click against the floor, he follows suite.

As they reach the old building she stops, turns to face him.

"Its a shame they closed it down." she muses, "We used to hide out here all the time."

"It was out of town."

She laughs, before she heads towards the ladder to the roof, ignoring his clear detest to the idea.

Once she's on the floor she inhales, looking up, listening as Aaron came up next to her.

"How long do you think we have?"

"Half an hour, tops."

"That'll do." she smiles, walking aimlessly. "Ask away, I know you want to."

"I want to understand..." he tells her, "Why you did it?"

"I told you."

"Tell me again."

"They— All of them," she starts, "They left me to get killed."

"What do you mean?"

She turns, facing him as she sighs.

"I'd been under for...just over two years and Ian started...asking questions. Normal ones, about kids, and marriage." she explains, "And when I couldn't answer he got suspicious, starting asking around if they knew me, and he was... I don't know but I knew I needed to be pulled out before he found out anything."

"They wouldn't pull you out?"

"Worse," she laughs, "Clyde refused to pull me out, Sean was planning on having the whole organisation Ian was running killed, me along with them."

"Thats—" he stops, "They can't do that."

"They can if they lie to higher ups, claim I've started working against them."

"Why would they do that?"

"I don't know. I don't care." she tells him, "Tsia, who I thought was my friend was the one who came up with it, the whole plan to have them all taken down, Jeremy helped her."

"So you... Killed them?"

She smiles as she looks at him, "Yes."

"And the higher up's who let it happen?"

"Everyone." she tells him, "Apart from three, who by the way, I was on my way to when I heard your press release."

"You—" he says but stops, shaking his head. "And you... Don't feel any guilt?"

"Why should I? They were going to kill me." she answers, sitting on the edge of the roof, her legs dangling as she lays back, looking at him with a head tilt as it lays on the floor. "Join me."

He sighs, before dropping next to her, the both of them staring at the stars.

"I heard you got stabbed." she says softy, turning to face him as he turns to face her with a frown.

"How?" he asks but she raises an eyebrow and she just chuckles. "I did." he answers.

"The reaper, right? George?"

"You know him?" he asks with wide eyes and she laughs, looking back up at the sky.

"No." she tells him, "I'm sorry about your family."

"Me too." he sighs, and before he can say anything else the surrounding area is lit with blue flashing lights, sounds of sirens echoing in their ears.

"That was quick." she laughs, sitting up. "What's it going to be, Aaron?"

"What?" he asks as they both stand, "You're going to jail."

"No," she says, slowly moving towards him and he want's to move, he should move, but he can't. She reaches out to cup his face, before kissing him, grabbing a needle from her pocket before jabbing him in the shoulder and he goes instantly, falling into a hump in her arms. She lowers him, resting his head gently on the ground before grabbing the voice recording and stroking his cheek.

"I'll come back for you." she whispers, before quickly standing, rushing off the roof and down the streets before the FBI even figure out where she and Aaron were.

Once they find him, once he's given the all clear by the medics, he's asked questions about what happened and he says only that he can't remember, that she'd said something about her team leaving her to be killed and the rest is a blur. It isn't true, and he refuses to think about whether or not they believe him.

His lips feel hot with the pressure of her own lingers on them, the ghost of her hand on his cheek feeing like a burn. He lays awake that night and wonders if he’d never see her again, and he hates that he hopes he does.

Over the course of the next three weeks, she remains on his mind constantly, a mixture of what they used to be, the time they spent together feeling like a life time ago and yesterday all at the same time, but what she became, who she became, reminds him that meeting her again, being reminded how much he had loved her, means nothing. There is no more them, no more hopes for a future with her, no more wonders about her life, just the facts. And the facts are that she’s a murderer, an international serial killer and makes him hate himself more than he is ever thought he could when he realises that he doesn’t even blame her, that he understands why she became who she did, why she did what she did, and it has him unable to look at himself in the mirror, leaves him wondering that maybe he’s just as bad as she is, that if he was given the opportunity to kill the person who had ruined his life, taken his family, he wouldn’t even hesitate to put a bullet through his head makes him her equal, rather than someone who had the right to arrest her.

He doesn’t expect to hear her, when he’s on the phone begging for Foyet to spare his family, racing back to his family home with prayers that he makes it, in fact it’s the first time she’s been off his mind since their reunion, so when the gun shot echos down his ears, the silence on the other end defending as he hits his fists against the dash, it takes a new moments for her voice to even process, to even hit his ears, but when it does his broken heart hammers in his chest.

“Hello George.” she says, and he can see the smirk on her face, can imagine the startled look on his.

“who are you—“ he starts, before there’s a crash, and he’s left with the dial tone, the incessant ringing sounding like a siren as he speeds down the road.

He arrives at the house not twenty minutes later, not even turning the engine off as he rushes into his old home, the home where he ex wife, the mother of his child, lays dead, murdered by a man he brought into her life. He expects there to be shouts, screams, raised voices from the two of them but the house is silent as he walks through it, the only thing he can hear is the sound of his heartbeat as it races in his chest, his whole body on edge, his hand on his gun.

"It's over." her voice say's from across the living room and he turns quickly, his eyes meeting hers from across the room and it takes a few seconds for him to notice the blood on her hands and her shirt, the knife more red than silver as she twists around in her hand, her eyes staring right back at him, a twinkle of something in them that he just can’t describe.

“Where’s my son?” he asks, “what did you do?”

“I didn’t touch your son, Aaron. I have no idea where he is.” she tells him, sitting up, “I did however get into a little bit of a brawl with the man who—” she stops, “I was about three seconds too late. She was dead when I got here…” she says, an almost sadness to her tone that catches him off guard. He's stood in shock, trying to work out his next move, looking around the living room in a sort of haze as he tries to piece together what the hell he's supposed to do now, when she stands, the sound of her heeled boot on the hard floor making his head snap towards her, the sight of her covered in someone else's blood one he never thought he would have imprinted in his brain, and he wants to yell, he wants to scream at her, but he can't because he's grateful. Grateful that she got here in time to stop him from killing his son, grateful that she put an end to his torment, killing the man he would have spent the rest of his life hunting for if he got away, grateful that she took it upon herself, to end the man's life, leaving him free of the burden of taking one, no matter how much he would have been justified, no matter how much it would have been deserved. But then she's walking towards the front door and even though he is grateful, even though he wants to let her go, whisper a small thank you to her as she leaves, he can't because he has a duty, a duty he has sacrificed too much for to let her slip away now, and he find's himself grabbing her wrist as she sips passed him, and is taken aback when she freezes, her eyes snapping up to his.

"I can't let you leave." he tells her, his eyes burning into hers, regret filling them because this is the last thing he wants to do. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," she whispers, and her words have him tensing, unsure of what exactly she could do, knowing far too well what she was capable of, knowing she does not deal well with betrayal, he starts to think that she never really has, even then. He feels her go to pull from his grip and before he knows it, he has her pinned to the door, a gasp leaving her lips as her back knocks into it harshly, his side pf his arm resting on her chest, keeping her pinned as he looks at her. "Ouch." she tells him, smirking as he meets her eye, his face inches from hers.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks her softly, "How did you even know?"

"I was in the area." she tells him, a lie, he knows, and he simply just stares at her. "I was... doing you a favour." she whispers, hating that her mask was slipping, that he still had this hold on her.

"A favour?"

"You've been worried about your family, I thought if I could give you some... If I could insure you that they were okay that you'd, I don't know, stop beating yourself up about it."

"You were with them?"

"Haley didn't hate you, Aaron." she whispers, "If anything she was grateful that they had the option of witsec at all."

"Stop." he growls at her, pinning her to the door more harshly, letting his anger take over. "How did you—"

"I saw him talking to them and I knew... every single one of us are the same, Aaron. I knew. I was just too late." she whispers, lifting a hand to his cheek to wipe the tears she's sure he isn't even aware has fallen. "Go and get your son." she tells him gently, smiling sadly at him as he looks at her.

"You saved his life," he whispers to her, "getting here when you did." he says, "you weren't too late."

Emily smiles softly, running her thumb across his cheek, "Go and find your son, your team will be here soon."

"I—" he says, conflicted between his duty and his love. "If I let you go... you have to promise me that you're done. That you will settle down in a small country and that you will be done." he tells her, "the anger that you're holding, the killing... it won't do what you think it will. If I let you go you have to promise me you will stop, and let yourself be happy."

"I don't think happy is in the cards for me," she whispers, "But I promise." she tells him.

He looks at her, seeing the woman he loved all those years ago, the woman he knows he does and never will stop loving and he tells himself that if this is the last time he ever see's her this will not be how it ends, and he kisses her, his arm moving from across her chest to around her waist, pulling her into him gently as her arm hooks around the back of his neck.

"Go," he whispers against her lips when she pulls away slowly. She meets his lips once again for a chaste kiss, before she drips out of the door, the sound of another one slamming a few yards away making him jump before he heads for his son, the sound of the team arriving outside echoing through the walls.

She walks right passed the team, watching as they rush into the house and she wonder's what he will tell them. She sits in the empty house across the street, looking out of the window as she sips on a glass of whatever wine she had found in their pantry and she watches. Watches him leaving the house with his son in his arms, watches him pass the little boy to the blonde agent, watches as he speaks to officers, lets her mind ponder about just what story he's spinning to them and she's caught completely off guard when he looks up at the window of the house across the street, like he knew if he looked she would be there, and as their eyes meet, he just nods slightly, and looks away, following the older agent into the back of an SUV, he son reaching out for him, and then they're gone.

He tells the team how she slipped right passed him when he went to get his son, that he has no idea what her game is or where she went. He lies because he has to, he lies because he can, he lies because he can not find it in himself to care anymore, and he thinks maybe if he sees her again, he might just run off with her.

Two months and eight days, that how long she waits until she calls him, hidden away in a small city in Paris, her heart hammering in her chest every time she remembers that fateful day. Every time she remembers that kiss.

"Hotchner," he says, half distracted by the paperwork he's filling out on his desk, she remains silent for a few moments, wondering what to say, wondering if he'd even want to speak to her.

"Hey," she says simply, and the silence that follows makes her stomach turn.

He leans back on his chair, the sound of her voice through the phone filling him with something like comfort and he cant' help but smile, even now.

"Hi," he says, "It's been awhile."

"I had a few things to sort out." she teases, smiling to herself. "How have you been?"

"It's been hard but, I think we're through the worst of it." he tells her, "it seems as though you kept your promise."

"Only for you." she jokes, "I needed a break anyway."

"Hm, sure. " he plays, the sound of her easy laughter on the other end making his heart flutter, "where are you?"

"That depends," she says.

"On what?"

"On who's side your on." she whispers, he can hear the pain in her voice, the hurt, and it makes him want to throw up that someone who used to be so free, and kind, has been made into this, forced into this, and he speaks before he even realises he wants to.

"Yours," he tells her, "always" he adds quietly, and the small breath she takes on the other end makes him smile.

"I'll call you again when I can," she whispers, "There's one more part of the promise I need to keep."

"I look forward to it." he smiles, and the line goes dead.

He knows he should feel guilty, dirty, for feeling like this for her, for hiding her like this but he just can't. He loves her, and why shouldn't he?

He hears of Emily Prentiss' death through JJ as she closes the file, and it has his heart snapping in his chest for a moment, until he finds himself thinking that maybe she just created the best get out of jail free card he'd ever seen.

"I heard you died." he tells her over the phone when she calls a few days later, a small smile on his lips. Her laugh sends waves through him.

She calls again two weeks later, it's a short conversation as he sits in a hotel room, whispering soft words of how he’s growing to hate the job he works, missing his son, wishing for a new life, one where his failure doesn't follow him around and she listens, soft words of advice falling from her lips that make his heart warm.

They talk for hours, days, weeks, months and soon enough he breaks.

“I can’t stay here anymore." he confesses as he watches his son play in the living room.

“Then move,” she tells him.

“Where?”

“Where do you want to go?"

“Where are you?" he asks softly, and he can feel the smile on her lips.

"A small town... somewhere in France." she whispers.

"Maybe I'll move there." he offers, a smile on his lips as he listens to her try and hold down her nerves.

“I...suppose that’s always an option,” she agrees after a few moments of silence.

“Are you an option?” he whispers, his true connotation not lost on her, and the question has her heart thudding against her ribs.

“Yes.” she tells him softly, and he knows its the right decision when his heart flutters.

He and Jack move three weeks later, a soft apology to Jessica, who promises to visit once they are settled, a conversation with the team on his last case, a simple explanation that he's moving for Jack, for a better life, and everyone stands in shock when they realise he never did tell them where he was going.

He follows the directions on his phone to a small little town outside of Nice, the sound of Jack's laughter as he steps out of the car and into the sun a sound he'd been wishing to hear for months. He reaches up as they're walking and he scoops the boy into his arms. They're just at the gate of her home when she steps out, leaving agasint the door. He walks, unable to hold back his smile as he heads towards her.

"Hey," she smiles when he reaches her.

"Hi," he smiles back, "Jack, this is Emily." he tells his son, who looks at the new woman with wide eyes, "can you say hello"?

"Hi." the boy smiles, his hand coming out in a small wave and she laughs.

"Hi." she says back, "Come on." she says, opening the door further to let them through. He stops at the side of her, before kissing her softly, the feel of her smile making his heart jump. He smile when he pulls away, before heading into the house, whispering to Jack as the boy points to things around the new surroundings.

Emily walks beside him as they reach the overly large garden and he looks at her.

"Nice place," he smirks and she shrugs.

"I killed the owners." she says nonchalantly, before heading off towards the large garden furniture in the middle of it, the feel of his eyes on her back making her laugh. "Are you coming?" she says, holding out her hand and he takes three steps, grabbing her hand in hers as they walk.

"You didn't really.." he whispers and she holds back a smirk as she looks at him.

"A lady never tells." she answers, and the sound of Jacks happy laughter as he jumps into the pool has the questions dying on his tongue.

She lets him ponder about her words for two weeks before she whispers in the dark that it was her mothers home, one she visited frequently when they were in France, and that after her mother passed it was sold, to her, but the name she put it under is one she'll never share.

fin

#hotchniss sour series #hotchniss fic #hotchniss #the thought of hotch and emily being cat and reid would ? not leave me alone #and so here this is <3 #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #this will be on ao3 when i finish work lololololololol

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justjuiceyboy · 4 years ago

Text

new beginnings

in which Happy is the readers tattoo artist

word count: 1,637

warnings: swearing

(a/n: I’m basically becoming a blog for Happy, will get back to writing Juice soon, just got this idea and knew I had to run with it. Hope you all enjoy and if you ever want to request my asks are open! Love you all, thanks for supporting!)

———————————

7:45 p.m. The sun was setting, causing an array of colours over the buildings of Charming, lighting up the place like a movie. The air was fresh, warm as it was the middle of July. You strolled along the footpath and kicked a small rock as you walked, to calm your nerves. You had made the quick decision with your friend to get tattoos together on this day. But you were walking alone, friendless.

You were not ever going to get a tattoo alongside your ’friend’ who you had caught sleeping with your boyfriend of two years. Two years and he threw it down the drain. With your best friend nonetheless. You just packed your things as he tried to claim his innocence, even though you caught him in bed with her. You were lucky to find an apartment that day that someone was trying to get rid of. At least you had somewhere to stay, even if the entire situation wasn’t ideal.

You still decided to go through with the tattoo, wanting to use this as an opportunity for new beginnings.

You were brought out of your daydream by the pinging of your phone, google maps telling you that you’ve reached your destination. You looked around, wide-eyed, not really knowing what to expect. But here you were, standing outside a small shop adorned with a sign stating “Mallen Tattoos”. This was the place you were looking for.

Pushing open the door, you were instantly met with the smell of cigarette smoke and disinfectant. At least they use disinfectant, you thought to yourself, trying not to show any emotion.

You walked promptly up to the front counter and coughed to get the man's attention. He looked up at you from where he was sitting and gave you a warm smile, accompanied by “You alright Darling?”

You were insanely put at ease by his kind demeanour and you smiled back at him, “Hi, I have an appointment for a tattoo at 8, booked it a few weeks ago?” He started flipping through a book that was on the desk and stopped, raising a brow, “says here that there’s gonna be two of you?”

You sighed, having forgotten that obviously, your best friend was in on the booking too. You told that man that it was just you and handed over some ID, hoping he’d still allow you to be tattooed even though it was only one client. You handed over the money for the tattoo in hopes that that may persuade him further. But once again he smiled and got up from his seat, bringing you through a small hallway to a spacious room with four big leather chairs for tattooing. He gestured to one of them and you sat down.

He brought over a clipboard full of waivers for you to sign and then spoke once again. “Oh, I forgot to tell you Miss, but the artist you wanted, well, he’s sick today. Real bad infection! But anyways, we have a different guy here who gets tattooed all the time, very talented too, if you’ll take him instead?” You could tell he was nervous as to how you’d react. You’d spoken to the other artist on the phone and he’d done practice drawings of the tattoo and sent them to you so you were pretty nervous to let a new artist just take over but before you could weigh up the pros and cons you just nodded. New beginnings, right?

He let out a sigh of relief that he had been holding in and apologised for all this which made you laugh. But you stopped laughing as soon as you saw your new tattoo artist.

A tall figure entered the room, walking over to the man who had led you here. They seemed friendly with each other as they talked. Your nervousness was now back in full force as you surveyed the man who was about to ink your body. He was bald and you could see the tattoos going up his arms. He had an extensive collection which you assumed went much further than just his arms but your view was covered by the plain white T-Shirt he was wearing. He was quite scary, never creating a smile the entire time the other man was talking to him. Your tattoo artist was handed a few pages and he nodded after looking through them, finally making his way over to you who was sweating in the leather chair.

“This is Happy! He’ll take great care of you don’t worry! If you need anything you know where I am” the overly jolly man as he waved goodbye to you both and returned down the hall. Happy. The man in front of you was anything but Happy, with his scary look and overly built body. You knew he was a part of the Sons Of Anarchy biker gang.

You finally made eye contact with Happy and your nervousness increased once again. He was a good-looking man and you knew this tattoo could take some time. Being trapped in close contact with a man like this would terrify anyone. Also, he has some menacing eyes that you felt nearly bore holes into you when he looked.

“Do you know where you want it?” He questioned suddenly, you hearing his voice for the first time. Your mind instantly went to the wrong idea of what you want where and you choked out an exclamation of “what?!”

“The tattoo, where do you want it?” He stated not changing his expression. You mentally hit yourself in the face for going to the dirty side of things and once again was only barely able to speak when you said “ribs.”

He nodded and set up with the pre-made stencil as you lifted your shirt over one shoulder, half your body on display now. He focused on the task at hand and lay the stencil whilst you tried to look anywhere else but at him, knowing that he’d make your knees go weak and you’d say something stupid again.

Once you agreed to the positioning, he began the process of the needlework. This was the first time you’d been tattooed and you didn’t know what to expect in regards to pain. The second he hit the skin, you jumped. He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly so he continued on again. There was no small talk which you were thankful for. You were trying not to make a big deal of it but you could feel every touch, especially when he brushed off your boob whilst doing the linework.

He began filling the shape and shading and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ and a breath. The man finally broke the silence as he stopped tattooing for a quick minute and rustled around in the pocket of his leather kutte. He pulled out a packet of cigarettes and held it one out to you. Talk about a hygienic practice, but you couldn’t judge right now, anything to take your mind off the pain.

“It helps, especially first time,” he concluded, lighting the cigarette and bringing it up to your lips. You took a drag and felt more relaxed now so he continued on again, placing the cigarette in between his own lips. But this time he kept talking, probably to distract you.

“Why the tattoo?” He asked, without looking at you of course, as he was busy staring at the skin beside your breast. You decided to give in to the small talk, mainly because you wanted to see what you could find out about the man who held a needle to your ribs and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“I booked it with a friend but I found out she was sleeping with my boyfriend so I’m not really sure why I still came if I’m being honest,” you told him, not being wary that you were spilling the truth to a stranger.

“Sounds like a dick” he stated point-blank, making you laugh quietly. “Yeah, she was.”

“Meant the boyfriend. He was obviously stupid,” he mumbles, one eye flicking up to you as he pulled away again. He took the cigarette from his mouth and reached up to you again to let you have a puff. You weren’t sure if it was the air or the cigarette smoke clouding your judgment but the entire scene felt slightly erotic to you now. Hot man, feathery touched on your body and sharing a cigarette between both of your mouths.

Happy seemed to have unwavering confidence as he watched you take a long drag as he spoke again, “You need a real man.” Now it was your turn to mumble, “beats me when I’ll find one of those.” It only took him another five or so minutes to finish on the tattoo and he then wrapped the area for you in silence.

He wrote a few things on a piece of printed paper and handed it to you, telling you it was just the care instructions and told you how to wash the area. You thanked him and he nodded again, signaling that you can go. You left the room and walked out the door of the shop, waving to the friendly man at the front desk.

The air was now brisk as you turned on your heel, ready to walk home. You were about to stuff the paper into your pocket as you noticed what he wrote at the bottom.

‘If you’re still looking for that real man, call me’

It was accompanied by his phone number and a small smiley face, which in turn made you smile. Looks like you’ll be seeing him again soon and not just for another tattoo. As you said, new beginnings, right?

#happy #happy lowman #happy imagine #reader x happy #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman imagine #soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #sons #imagine

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thekatebridgerton · 3 years ago

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Someday I'm gonna wake up, check my social media and I will not see comments about Sophie being deminish, insulted or erased, Someday I'm gonna wake up and there will only be good and positive comments about her and how brave she was by not letting Araminta brake her spirit in anyway and always manage the way to stood up against everything she went through because I'll never accept her being called weak for her quiet strenght and surviving mechanism, that day will be a good day for me

First of all Anon who do I have to kick? Because some people go around disrespecting our Sophie and that's not nice. Come on give me names, I'll get my vodoo dolls.

Second, I rarely see Sophie hate in my dash because I use the block button liberally and I'm not on Twitter. Because angst is not my thing. (Unless we're talking fanfiction aus with a happy ending) this is an angst free blog. Safe for all of you who want angst free content.

That aside, this IS a blog where one is free to rant about fictional injustice so thank you for coming.

I know a lot of people don't like to hear this but Sophie Beckett is a perfectly fine character! She is not passive, or weak or a coward. I've said this in previous posts, only a person who's been trough the kind of abuse Sophie suffered under Araminta knows exactly WHY she's such a strong character in the first place. And why her quiet defiance is admirable.

If you don't know what it's like to be stuck since childhood with nowhere to go, in an abusive household, where the main abuser is a woman, traditionally seen as a caregiver who instead of offering warmth or love, holds food and shelter over Sophie's head to make her behave, while Sophie had nowhere to turn to and no friends to support her. Then you don't know why she's such a strong character.

Sophie's backstory is super tragic and this is a fact. Araminta was a gaslighter of the highest caliber. And Sophie's status as a bastard meant that she virtually had no rights and wasn't entiled to demand anything from anyone. So her surviving within her circumstances, without becoming an abuser or a cold unemotional asshole, was an act of superhuman mental strength and courage .

Sophie haters are like those people you meet when you're clinically depressed who ask 'But why don't you think more positive?' and 'why don't you smile more'

And you want to tell them 'I don't know Brad, maybe because it's hard? Ever thought about that??? Must be nice living in your head, without self criticism voices telling you that you suck, wonder how that fantasy land feels like'

For those of you who don't know what being a bastard was like in regency england (the following also applies to Gareth Sin Clair, if you're wondering). It was like having a stamp in her national ID, right next to date of birth and natal country, an ugly stamp that said 'born out of wedlock: Do not treat with respect' by all intents and purposes commoners had it better. But Araminta gaslighted Sophie so bad since childhood!!

And I really don't know what's up with people these days and victim blaming. But here's a tip ANYTHING THAT ISN'T KINDNESS AND SUPPORT TOWARDS A VICTIM OF ANY KIND OF ABUSE, IS UN-WEL-COME.

So those people that say Sophie could have gotten out of there, that she could have done this and that or left Araminta, or punched her sooner etc. Check your victim blaming at the door please. It was not Sophie's responsibility to get out of that abusive situation when she was virtually powerless. It WAS ARAMINTA'S RESPONSIBILITY TO TAKE CARE OF HER. Why aren't more people talking about what an absolute asshole Araminta was to do that to little Sophie, for her whole life?? Let's put the blame where it belongs, in Araminta's door and in the Earl of Gunningworth's ass.

Guys Araminta was the bad guy, I know it's obvious enough in An offer from a Gentleman, but let me spell it out, Araminta was an abuser, a gaslighter, a psychopath, the kind that lives under the beds of abusive homes and makes the victims of her criminal behavior call her 'mommy' a ne'rdo well asshole who treated a little girl with the utmost unfairness, who bullied and humiliated Sophie for half her life, just for funsies! She was evil and got away with it.

So when we meet Sophie in an offer from a Gentleman, we meet her after years of THIS 👆 And what we meet isn't a jaded, depressed girl. We meet Sophie, Sophie who is a kind, stubborn, warm-hearted person with only her integrity to comfort her against the world that has hurt her. By the time Sophie meets Benedict, Araminta has already taken everything else she has.

The psychopath she's lived with her whole life probably used the words 'your mother was nothing more than a _____' to further verbally abuse Sophie all the time.

When she meets Benedict, Sophie is clear that the ONLY thing she has that can't be taken from her is her agency. She's constantly using her agency around Benedict. Because it's something Araminta denied her for so long!. So of course she refused to be his mistress. She CAN, that's the whole point, she's been robbed of choices her whole life.

And now that Sophie sort of escapes, now that she can make her own choices she's saying NO! Call it morals, integrity or simply Sophie expecting Benedict to respect her use of agency. Saying No to Benedict might not look empowering for us but it IS empowering for her! And that makes Sophie Beckett awesome.

And I know I know, Benedict is a product of his environment and ya di dah. but the Book is titled 'An offer from a Gentleman' for a reason! It's a sarcastic dig at the fact that Benedict doesn't behave as a gentleman for almost all the book. Because a true gentleman would never ask any woman to be their mistress under any circumstance. Virgin, married or widowed.

Benedict SHOULDN'T HAVE ASKED. Had he truly been thinking like a gentleman he would have done that gentlemanly thing and rescued Sophie chivalrously, worked towards bettering her life circumstances and eventually asked her to marry him like a character out of an Arturian legend. But Benedict is no sir Galahad. The whole irony of the book title is right there. That people in the ton call him a gentleman but in reality he's a total poser. He's faking it, he's pretending, he's of as ungentlemanly as his brothers! Sophie's just calling him out on it!

And Sophie who is a woman and a bastard, who is penniless and is by every means supposed to be inferior than him. STILL HAS MORE INTEGRITY. Her morals are better than his, she keeps her word, she feels more guilty, has more patience and definitely takes more responsibility! Sophie in every sense of the word might not have been born a Lady but she IS better than Benedict. Who's the brother of a Viscount.

Go Sophie! You Rock!

I'm just glad Benedict recognizes what an absolute goddess he married and spends the rest of his life worshipping the ground she walks in because it's what Sophie deserves.

I hope she's already been casted, I hope it's an incredible actress that brings us the mix of absolute innocence and fierceness that is Sophie Beckett. Because it's what I want to see.

And you know me #JusticeForSophie4k I'll always be here to support our one only non problematic fave. Sophie has done nothing wrong ever, she's a fun chaotic sister in law and we love her just like Benedict. End of story

#bridgerton #sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton #benedict x sophie #Benophie #justiceforsophie #Sophie slander is so unless like why #she's perfect

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zv5x · 3 years ago

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ok ok... so if ur familiar with the character, id just like to raise you this concept... phobos trying to manipulate a reader w/ a lot of political power through flattery, gifts, general advice, etc. but then him slowly realizing that hes falling in love with reader, and they practically consume his every thought, until he can't fucking take it anymore and kidnaps them.

listen im sorry i just have a hunger for yan! phobos....

Alright, I think I got this one right!! Let me know if I got any information wrong, I'll be sure to correct myself ♡ I really hope you enjoy this, and feel free to come to me with any more requests in the future! Stay safe!

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

The world around you saw you as a glimmer of hope for the community. Your stances on the economy and government were relatable and humble, your intentions were nothing but pure, and your heart was of pure gold. They saw you as one of the only politicians without the burden of corruption, someone to look up to and idolize. You were adored from the start, gifted with the love of the people and a positive future.

Phobos, on the other hand, started out as seeing you as nothing more than a tool. You were cute, the way you ate up his gifts and advice like some starving animal, and the way you always seemed to come to him when the political world was just getting oh-so stressful, looking for some kind of break. He wanted what you had. He felt he deserved what you had. The power, the adoration, the lavish lifestyle, as well as everything in between that you held in your pretty hands. He kept you around, and soon, your name started showing up a lot next to his on headlines and news broadcasts. He was getting exactly what you wanted, and he was already planning on how exactly to dispose of you.

But, you kept coming around. You kept showing up by his side with that pretty smile and that bright expression, just oh-so excited to see him once more. He, for once, didn't know what he was feeling. He just felt so different and vulnerable. The way that alien feeling of butterflies came out of nowhere everytime he heard your voice, the way he too became happy to see you each time the two of you crossed paths, the way your eyes sparkled with happiness everytime he handed you yet another gift.

Phobos found himself doing things he would have never guessed he would have been doing before. He started cherishing the times he spent with you, he started being more genuine in what he said to you each time the two of you spoke, he started taking secret pictures of you to capture your natural beauty to encase around his room. If his past self looked at him now, he would have been sick, disgusted even. But, why should he care? Why should be burden himself with such critical thoughts when he could be paying more attention to you? He was never one to focus on things that didn't make him happy, so why should he stop now? It wouldn't make any sense to him.

His little puppy-crush felt like nothing more than a fairytale fantasy at first. That was, until the more burdening part of affection came to light. He despised the times that you weren't with him, and desperately felt as if he needed you by his side. Phobos began making various excuses for himself and his actions.

'Being a political figure is just so dangerous, I'm sure they won't mind me taking advantage of that break in their security to make sure nobody comes inside their home' and 'They call me a good friend of theirs, don't friends want to be around the other?' became common thoughts of his, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You were a weak little thing. Anyone could just come up to you and kill you without any effort. He, on the other hand, was strong. His power equated to that of a God as he saw it, so surely you needed his help with keeping yourself safe and well.

He saw the news. He saw the way political figures were picked off like flies by extremists that didn't equate their beliefs, he saw the way you trusted basically everyone you came across like they were just as close with you as he was.

He hated it, and he would do something to change that.

You were coming over to his house under the pretence of just simply hanging out, like the two of you always did. But, little did you know, Phobos was nervously pacing back and forth in his basement, which was prepared just for you. First impressions were everything, and Phobos couldn't handle it if your new home was anything but perfect.

You came over quickly, and before he knew it, you were knocking at the door and calling out his name oh so adorably. He rushed upstairs and allowed you inside, smiling right back at you as soon as he saw the happiness on your face.

Finally, he'd satisfy that seemingly unscratchable itch for you, and finally, he'd be able to shield you from a world that never deserved you.

He'd be the perfect host, just like he always was.

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midnightsconspiracy · 4 years ago

Text

Out Of The Blue

Out of the Blue - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: After experiencing a hard day at work, your boyfriend decides to treat you to some of your favourite things. Although he may or may not have another surprise in store for you

Warnings: Non-Major Character Death

Word Count: 1683

Requested: Yes!

'What about one in which one of them had a horrible day at work and the other found out and decided to prepare a little surprise to make the day better? Just fluffy thing?'

A/N: Keep sending in your requests whilst my inbox is open and drop me a message if you're bored, id love to talk to some of you about Chicago PD, Med or Fire!! :)

Masterlist

Working at Chicago Med was stressful, to say the least. Every day was filled with what felt like hundreds of patients, running around to make sure you were taking care of them to the best of your ability. For the most part being an ED doctor with fulfilling, seeing people come in sick and come out good as new. But other times it was draining, either from being swept off your feet every minute of the day or doing all that you could for a person and it still not being enough. That was what had happened today.

You were content as you entered the ED that morning, having spent the night at your boyfriend’s. Everything about your relationship was absolutely perfect, with everyone around you noticing your positive change of mood since getting together with Hank. Walking towards the nurse's station to log into a computer, Maggie and April came over to greet you, both commenting on the large grin that plastered your face.

“Someones happy,” April teased, watching your cheeks glow, as you looked down in mock embarrassment.

“Couldn’t have anything to do with the Sergeant boyfriend of yours could it?” Maggie lowered her head as well, trying to catch your eyes to find the truth within them. Opening your mouth to reply, you were interrupted by an incoming patient being wheeled on a gurney, the paramedics beside it holding a grim look on their faces.

The patient turned out to be a six-year old girl, she had suffered severe trauma to multiple areas of her body, including broken ribs, a collapsed lung and a mild concussion. You immediately took the case, being the only ED doctor available at the moment, but also specialising in paediatrics alongside Dr Manning. Looking the girl over, you noted each of her injures, seeing it was consistent with a severe car accident, and proceeding to insert a needle into her lung to allow it to re-inflate, before sending her upstairs to the OR for surgery. To an adult, the injuries wouldn’t have been fatal, but for a girl this size, the extent of the trauma didn’t bode well for her chances of survival. Praying for her as she was wheeled up to surgery, you felt a tear come to your eye, hoping that this little girl would actually be able to live her life to the fullest. An hour had passed and you still hadn’t heard any news on the little girl, so instead of dwelling on it, you busied your mind, taking any patients Maggie would give you, from a broken leg to a baby with a fever. But finally, as you were leaving a low-level emergency case, your pager buzzed, signalling you to the PICU, nodding to Maggie on the way up, knowing it would be the girl who had just come out of surgery. Speaking to her surgeon, you waited for her anaesthetic to wear off, knowing it wouldn’t be too long because of the low dosage she was given. It seemed as though she had no family with her, either injured or dead from the car wreck and so you sat by her bed, not wanting her to be alone when she finally woke up.

As she woke, you held her hand, introducing yourself, trying to make her as comfortable as you could. You spoke to her for a long time, completely forgetting about your other duties downstairs, instead, trying to make her laugh, telling stories and attempting to get her to recall the events that had happened earlier that day. Building trust was important to you, knowing she would need someone who she was happy with before all the other doctors and DCFS got involved. But time got cut short as your pager once again demanded you downstairs to deal with another patient. Quickly saying goodbye, you dashed downstairs to deal a man with a GSW to the abdomen. Checking his wound thoroughly, you tended to it before sending him to specialists upstairs. Content with the job you had done, you continued with your work in the ED.

After your shift had finished, you headed upstairs to say a final goodnight to the girl, bringing a small teddy with you that you had purchased in the gift shop, hoping it would keep her company overnight before you returned the next day. But as you walked towards her room something didn’t seem right. The lights were turned off, the bed empty. Maybe she had just been moved to a different room or ward, you thought to yourself, knowing there was probably a good explanation for this. Turning towards the nurse on duty behind the desk, you questioned her on the whereabouts of your new friend.

“Didn’t you hear? She coded and was pronounced dead an hour ago. Sorry Doctor Y/LN, I thought someone would have told you already.” Staring at the women, your mouth dropped open, stumbling backwards a bit to brace yourself on the doorway behind. Tears fell from your eyes, why would the universe allow an innocent young child to be taken so earlier in their life? Moving back downstairs you felt numb, just wanting this tragic day to be over. You texted Hank telling him you were on your way back and that you had the most horrible day, not going into any details on how or why.

Unbeknownst to you, Hank was already preparing your favourite meals, as he knew you were already getting increasingly stressed at work when your text came in. He felt bad for you, knowing the type of tragedies you saw daily, experiencing similar in his line of work, completely aware of the repercussions people felt being surrounded by death constantly. On top of making dinner for you, your text had prompted him to drove to the store in order to go above and beyond to try and boost your mood, buying things he knew would make your day better. Returning home he had about ten minutes before you would be back to try and set everything up, rushing about the house making sure every individual detail was perfect for your return. The table was prepared beautifully, accessorised with fancy silverware and candles, that were flickering slowly, ready and waiting to provide you with a romantic dinner. He had bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, already placed in a vase of water so you wouldn’t have to deal with the fuss of it on your arrival, and rose petals scattered along the floor in the direction of the table to add an extra romantic touch. Finally, he had one more surprise for you, hidden away in his back pocket, one that was guaranteed to make you smile.

Pulling into the driveway you exited your car, noting the darkness within the house, uncommon for this time of night and the fact that Hank had said he would be in all evening. Opening the door you called out to him, hoping that he hadn’t been pulled into another case, spending the night in his office once again. But as you took off your coat to place it on the hook you noticed the flowers on the table, to be specific your favourite flowers. You called out to him again, hoping he would appear to explain what was happening. Looking up, he stood in the doorway, a slight smile on his face, as you finally looked round properly noticing the rose petals, candles and your favourite food on the table.

“You did this all for me?” You asked.

“Of course I did sweetheart, I know you’ve had it hard at work recently so I wanted to surprised you with some of your favourite things.” To most peoples surprise, Hank was a true romantic at heart despite the cold exterior he held, just wanting to pamper you and treat you like the queen you were. Whether that be buying you your favourite sweets or complimenting you whenever possible, he did everything in his power to make sure you were happy.

Leading you towards the dinner table, you both sat down, quickly making conversation about everything, except work, that being an unspoken rule between you. Conversation flowed easily, both of you just happy to be in the presence of each other once more. Dinner had been polished off, with Hank fetching the dessert from the fridge after as you uttered the millionth ‘thank you’ to him. You both tucked in, moaning at the flavour that tasted like heaven after the day you had had. Looking up you noticed your boyfriend's demeanour had changed, no longer joyful but instead nervous, staring at his hands in his lap.

“What’s wrong Hank?” You asked, worried you had done something to set off this mood change. Instead of replying he lifted his hands from his lap onto the table along with a velvet box, slowly opening it to reveal a ring.

“Y/N, I know we haven’t been together that long and we haven’t discussed this that much but I’m getting old, and whilst I was thinking about that, I realised you really are it for. I can't even imagine myself with someone else or not spending the rest of my days with you. So Y/N Y/LN will you marry me?” Tears pricked your eyes, never in a million years would you have expected this, but instead of being angry about it, you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more.

“Only if you do it properly and get down on one knee,” you countered, watching as he got off his chair and onto one knee.

“So will you?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed throwing yourself into his arms.

As the evening winded down, you laid in Hank's arms on your shared bed thinking about everything life had given you. You couldn’t have met anyone as perfect as the man beside you. The man you would spend the rest of your life with, bear children with and grow old with. So as you drifted off to sleep, you pictured the little girl, hoping she was in heaven looking down on your life and smiling

#hank voight x reader #hank voight #hank voight imagines #chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

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Andrius, Venti, and Dvalin: General HCs [+ unhinged Venti]

Oh no, not strange at all! I love seeing the art people have done on human Dvalin and Andrius. I’m not entirely sure if you wanted a Venti x Dvalin x Andrius pairing but I’m going to assume so. But just in case, I added a few points of all 4 of your hanging out. How my desk is positioned with my window, the sun is shining directly into my eyes so I have to type in this weird position unless I want my eyeballs to melt.

Also, if any of this is wrong just look away. This took forever because holy crap there is so much lore on these 3. Not sure what exactly you had in mind so I made some general/friendship HCs

Alright, today’s appreciations post is for maagdalen. Super lovely person with some lovely emotes. Oh and your english is really good btw^^ and ty for chatting with me 💕💕💕

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz

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Andrius, Venti, and Dvalin: General HCs

Andrius

Andrius, also known as Lupus Boreas, was tasked with protecting the nation of Mondstadt under the request of Barbatos. He had a noble soul and mainly stays in the area of Wolvendom. He was strict, to the point, and never really partakes in whatever “foolish” activities Venti or Dvain get themselves into. But it’s all just a front because as soon as one of them get’s hurt or is in danger, his fangs and teeth are out. Even if it’s a cute hydro slime. Then he’ll take them by the scruff of their neck back to Wolvendom to get their wounds checked. On Venti it works, but with Dvalin’s dragon form. It’s amusing to see a pouting dragon getting dragged off by a wolf that wasn’t even double his size.

Not many Mondstadt citizen’s know but Andrius isn’t actually a wolf. He chooses to take the form of a wolf and should any of the wolves in Wolvendom be threaten, that’s the form he will appear in. But in truth, it was because Venti suggested it. If he was going to stay in Wolvendom and protect wolves then it made sense that his form would be the big bad wolf. Really Andrius just believes that Venti has a secret vendetta against cats and Andrius wouldn’t talk to Venti if he suggested that he take the form a dog.

There is a bit of discourse between Andrius and Venti due to Venti’s human-like appearance since Andrius views human society as a disappointment. Only accepting abandoned infants that have no where to go. But he does respect Barbatos and helped in his efforts to rebuild Mondstadt and protect it as one of the Four Winds.

While he doesn’t completely enjoy Venti’s extravagant personality he’s glad that Barbatos adopted the name and is living his life in freedom. Despite being the anemo archon, he chooses to live as Venti. Having fun in taverns and doing what he loves.

Venti

Venti always brings stories and sings for the two whenever he decides that it’s been too long since he’s seen his friends. He usually brings a bottle of wine even if he’s the only one that ever drinks - which is probably why he brings wine - which leads to Andrius scolding Venti to try and act civilized when he gets drunk and saying “No Dvalin, you cannot have some. The last time we let you drink you cried so much that Springvale still has a waterfall.”

It’s amusing to hear that after the war, the biggest problem Venti has right now is getting constantly ID checked. Dvalin takes this quite literally, since he still isn’t fully aware of taverns rules and regulations, that it takes both Venti and Andrius to hold him down before another Stormterror incident happens.

Venti has always been bold, never afraid to say anything, which was a trait that Dvalin and Andrius liked about the anemo archon. It was what made him the archon of freedom but sometimes Venti is a bit too bold and pretends to play fetch with Andrius wolf form. He is not amused. When he tries it with Dvalin, Dvalin will participate but he get’s confused and ends up just sitting beside Venti when the archon throws the stick. Which causes Venti to make a walk of shame to get the stick back.

When Venti acts as the Wind Archon it’s always a bit of whiplash when he talks in his philosophical state that it reminds Dvalin and Andrius that despite his childlike appearance and attitude, he was still the anemo archon. But it get quickly covered up when he says it’s time to switch back to Venti time.

It’s hard for them all to meet up in the present day. Dvalin stays in his domain while Andrius stays in Wolvendorm, all alone in their own domain. Venti prefers lively places than those quiet and solitude areas so he’s either in the City of Freedom or under the Windrise tree. But on occasions where he feels lonely he’ll swing by Dvalin’s lair and use the winds to carry their conversation to Andrius. Just so he isn’t left out.

If anyone asks where the ballads that Venti sings that are about a strict wolf and a nervous dragon, he’ll just say it was a passing tune he made up.

Dvalin

Dvalin, same as Andrius, lost his faith in humanity and the city of Mondstadt. He was released as his role as one of the four winds but continued to remain in Mondstadt. Similarly to Andrius he is distrustful around humans after being betrayed by them, chose to avoids human contact but he tries to adopt a more friendly side when Venti visits him.

Dvalin cares about Venti more and isn’t as standoffish in showing that he appreciates Venti compared to Andrius. Venti explained to him and showed him what freedom truly was he felt connected with someone for the first time. He did want to be understood and loved by the humans for who he was and what he wanted to protect. But that’s still a long road ahead.

He’s a curious but clumsy dragon. He’s pure of heart and steadfast in his goals which Venti is full-heartily cheering him on while Andrius disagrees but allows Dvalin to continue on this own path. Even if Andrius is on the other side of Mondstadt, he still tries to keep an eye out for Dvalin should the Abyss Order ever try and take his friend under their control.

However, due to how almost naïve the dragon is, he get’s into rather...interesting situations. While Andrius groans and Venti loses his absolute shit when Dvalin, still in his dragon form, lands and tries to observe the wolves. He only hides behind a thin tree that barely covers even 2% of his entire body and ends up scaring the wolves who run back to Andrius for safety. It takes a lot of consoling from Venti that the wolves didn’t like him, they were just scared and perhaps he should adopt a smaller form?

He’s still a bit sick from the aftermath of the Abyss Order and the poison of Durin so he can’t travel as far as he would like so Venti keeps him company. Telling him what the citizens of Mondstadt have been up to and playing music with his lyre.

---

I love writing Venti, he’s so much fun. :) I say this but I live for Venti who hides behind this happy persona but is actually unhinged or deluded. I have many thoughts on this but I didn’t want to break the pace of the fic (plus this is getting pretty long anyways). So feel free to skip the rest of this if that makes you uncomfortable. I’m just spit balling right now.

But nervous and shy dragon Dvalin plus mother hen Andrius is canon. You cannot convince me otherwise.

This week has just turned into “what will we awaken today?” In other news, Lisa and Diluc. But it might be a bit late since this took some time to finish. In extra news, solo leveling just updated. Oh and jjk is (hopefully) getting a new episode tmr^^

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Barbatos

Andrius and Dvalin trust Venti to fulfill his archon duties should anything ever happen to Mondstadt. The same way Venti trusts the Four Winds will protect Mondstadt should anything dangerous arise. With the carefree nature of Venti making a sudden appearance after Barbatos’s year long nap, they both got a bit too comfortable with this happy-go-lucky version of their archon.

That is until Venti brings a fourth person into their trio. Someone who knew how to play the lyre and wished to fly and see the birds. Andrius and Dvalin share a quick look of anxious tension and it’s confirmed when Venti makes a small slip of the tongue and calls you by a certain boy’s name. They aren’t sure what to do or if Venti was starting to regress back into Barbatos and what that could mean for this innocent traveler.

“Barbatos defeated the previous ruler and left the city to rest because he didn’t want to become the same tyrant. But an archon is still an archon with responsibilities. Those responsibilities can be warped to the point that they believe they are helping and guiding their followers, but are actually trapping them in their cage. He is an archon that believes in freedom so his cage is just a bit bigger. Big enough that you can’t see the walls. Be careful traveler.”

Venti goes to greet you the next day you see him but his words seem to fade away when he approach's you. He asks if you’ve been talking to Andrius lately. You nod and ask how he knows. He says that you just spell like wolfhooks and that you shouldn’t worry about anything.

The next day Andrius apologizes to you about his words and that he was mistaken. There was nothing to worry about and to trust Venti. You can see Dvalin a bit off to the side looking away nervously and a bit guilty.

Venti always makes sure that Andrius and Dvalin keep an eye on you, especially Dvalin when you’re in stormterror land. It was a pretty dangerous landscape to trek through. As for Andrius, he doesn’t want you to get hurt during your weekly practice fights. It wouldn’t do you any good if you got hurt and couldn’t explore this vast world with him.

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 4 years ago

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ILLICITUS: CHAPTER 4

Prompt: Y/N is a respectful narcotics agent, she worked hard to have her work recognized in a prominently male work field. She‘s assigned to the most important case of her whole career, investigate and apprehend the biggest drug dealer of U.S.A, the only thing she didn’t count on, was for the bastard to be so damn charming.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, blackmail, cursing, conspiracy.

Tagging: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @nicolewoo , @bayley-no-friends , @lilred91 , @auawdo , @lustyromantic

Notes: Where is this going to?...To catch up with the previous chapters just hit my Masterlist! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

I walk from Matt’s office to my desk in utter shock.

*What the hell is going on?* Is all I can think about. What seemed to be the opportunity of a life time (career wise) is becoming a true nightmare. One I couldn’t wait to wake up.

“Hey, kid! My office, NOW!” Jeffrey screamed

*Oh God, that’s all I needed right now*

“Yes, Jeffrey?” I reluctantly asked

He urgently closed and locked his office’s door

“Why did you locked the door?” I ask suspicious

He ignored me and motions for me to sit down. He was so nervous that it would be irrelevant to try to do anything but obey him.

“Happy?” I said bitterly

“Did you knew I was being tracked?” He whispered

“What do you mean?”

“Someone wiretapped my house!”

“Wait, wait. What? Are you serious Jeffrey?”

“Do I look like I’m joking to you, kid?” He angrily whispered

“Why would someone wiretap you?”

“How the fuck would I know? The only thing I know is that it came from the Bureau”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we are the only ones who use that type of technology. You can’t find that shit on the streets! Which makes me think why the fuck is somebody from this building minding my business?”He whispered screamed again

“Ok, first of all, you need to calm the fuck down! You’re little temper is not helping me to think at all. And you’re practically demonstrating to the person who did that, that you know about the wire. So take a deep breath, old man” I whispered and in an attempt to calm himself down, Jeffrey lit up a cigarette.

“Alright, where did you found the wiretap?”

“On the cable modem. We leave it at the leaving room”

“Ok, have you had any problems with your internet signal?”

“No. Why?”

“Sometimes in order to place a wire inside the house, they cause an external problem in the signal so you’ll call the cable company and someone from investigation will get inside the house to put the wire, pretending to be someone from the cable company” I explained and he gave me a puzzled look

“What?” I ask

“How do you-“

“They did that in New York to catch the Mob bosses. What kind of cop are you Jeffrey that doesn’t know about the biggest take down of the five biggest mob families of New York?” I tease

“I’m getting old, that’s my excuse” He laughs

“So if nobody came to fix anything, they must have came in normally then....has anyone from the Bureau came to your house recently?”

“Oh fuck. Everybody, kid”

“Everybody?”

“Yeah, two weeks ago, remember?”

“Shit, your birthday party” I dropped my head in defeat

“We have at least 30 suspects” He mumble

Something tells me whoever is doing this is trying to put me against Jeffrey so I decided to come clean with him

“Jeff, someone requested for a tracker on Roman Reigns”

“Please tell me you’re shitting me” He murmured “Who signed?”

“Apparently me”

“WHAT?” He screamed

“Shhhhh, someone will hear you!”

“What do you mean with ‘apparently you’?”

“My DEA ID number was in the requested by space”

“And how could someone get that?” He asked

“According to Matt, anyone who’s smart enough. He said is not that difficult, you just need to know where to look” I sighed

“Do you know when it was installed?”

“Yesterday, as I was there. Whoever did it wanted to make sure the timing matched perfectly....My biggest fear is for him to find out before I can remov-“ I was cut off by my phone ringing with an unfamiliar number.

“Y/L/N” Was my greeting

“Good morning, agent Y/L/N.”

*Oh fuck no!* I thought

“Good morning Mr. Reigns, how can I help you?”

“Well, I would like for you to join me for lunch, I have a subject I would like to discuss with you”

“I’m afraid I can’t, sir. I have a lot of work and-“

“Oh I’m certain your work can wait agent Y/L/N. Since you have some explaining to do”

“I beg your pardon?” I was already preparing myself for what I knew it would be inevitable

Roman laughs amused “Y/N. Did you really thought you could put a tracker on me and I wouldn’t find out? C’mon baby, I thought you were smarter than that!”

“Mr. Reigns, it’s not what you think-“

“I’m not gonna discuss this through a phone call. Be here at noon!” His voice colder than a bucket of ice

He hung up, before I could even protest it.

“What is it?” Jeffrey asked

“He found out and wants me to explain it” I faintly whispered

“Fucking great!” He grunts “Are you gonna go? Do you want me to go with you?”

“I have to go, I got no choice. And no, if I show up there with you is just gonna make things worst”

He nods “What are you going to do, kid?”

“Pray Jeff...pray like a fucking nun!”

......................................................................

“There she is! The little sneaky spy” Roman smirked at me “Please, sit” He motions to his office chair. The same one I sat the first time I was there.

“So, are you going to explain to me about this little thing?” He dropped the tracker on my lap

“Mr. Reigns, I know how this looks to you but I can guarantee, I didn’t requested this”

“You didn’t? Then how come is your internal identification number upon the request by line?”

*Of course he knows about that too*

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, sir”

“So what? You’re not trying to pull up the old trick that somebody is setting you up, right Y/N?”

“I know is hard to believe and if was in your position I would have the same disbelief as you right now, but unfortunately that is the pathetic truth”

“Do you expect me to believe that, agent Y/L/N?” He chuckled

I stare at him, responding “No, Mr. Reigns. I expect you to be reasonable, I would be naïve to think that I could do such an immature move like putting a tracker on you and expect you not to find out about it. As a matter of fact I would be straight up dumb if I thought that, that would ever work. So no I didn’t do it, somebody else did and that’s the reality, now whether you want to believe it or not it’s not my problem” I was taking a big risk talking to him like that, but it was the only thing I could do right now, bluff.

Roman places both of his hands on my thighs, leaning down until our faces are uncomfortably close.

“You play a dangerous game, Y/N. A very, very dangerous game” He licks my bottom lip “But I like that, it turns me on” Roman dragged his nose upon my neck, breathing in my scent

“You turn me on” He whispers in my ear “The things I can see myself doing to you are pure torture because that’s all what they are: imagination, and I want them to become reality. I want to see you spreading your legs for me, I want you in all fours on top of my bed, I want your pretty lips around my cock, I want my face in between your thighs, I want to fuck you in whatever pace I feel like it, I want you to take every inch of my cock, I wanna feel you stretching around me baby, moaning for me to go deeper and harder”

This man...The things he says, his voice so deep, his cologne filling up my nostrils and intoxicating me on his scent, on him.

“Roman” I whispered, but he continued

“You know there’s a chemistry between us, I know you can feel it too babygirl, so why hide it? Why suppress it, when we can put this stamina to good use, baby? I want it, you want it, it’s a simple math”

“That wouldn’t be very professional, I’m afraid” I mumbled

He leans back to look me in the eyes

“The tracker isn’t very professional as well is it?”

“I already told you it wasn’t me”

“And do you think a judge in court will care? There’s your personal DEA number in there, a number that technically only you have access to it and as far as I’m concerned that little tracker would be considered an invasion of privacy, I could sue not only you but the DEA for that. I mean, I signed an official document allowing you to search for anything you want in my professional life, not on my personal one and that tracker was installed on one of my private cars. Do you see my point, Y/N?”

“You want me to fuck you in order for you to keep your mouth shut” I angrily murmured

“Well, biologically speaking I would be the one to fuck you not the other way around” He smirked

“You’re so low, Roman” I spat

“Roman? No more formalities I see, I like that” He smiled

“Not happening” I shake my head vigorously

“What? Do you find me so repugnant that the thought of sleeping with me is that horrifying?” He asked amused

“It’s not that-“

“Oh, so you do find me attractive?” He asks pretending to be surprised

“Modesty doesn’t suits you, Mr. Reigns” I mocked

“So what is it?”

“If I do it, it’s gonna be like signing my guilty sentence. I would be screwing you to somehow make me innocent” I answered

Roman pulled me up from the chair, hugged my waist resting his hands mere inches from my ass.

“No baby, screwing me would be the equivalent to not getting fired, not having a billionaire lawsuit filled against you and not spending the rest of your life in prison” He smiled, now caressing my butt cheeks

“So babygirl, what’s gonna be?”

TO BE CONTINUED

Please let me know your thoughts on this series so far, feedbacks are always nice and appreciated 🥰❤️

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #illicitus series #masochist writes

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widowsofchaos · 4 years ago

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Poor Little Rich Boy

summary: you find out your boyfriend isn’t all that innocent as he seems.

warnings: yandere behavior, violence, and gore. dub-non con. Ya know the filthy vibes.

Pairing: dark college!Tony Stark x black!reader

a/n: this is my first time writing Tony so be gentle with me <3

do not respost my works!

“I, Howard Anthony Walter Stark, being of sound, mind, and body do hereby declare that this document is my last will and testament. I bestow my legacy in the hands of my only heir, my son, Anthony Edward Stark. All my assets, finances, and chair as CEO of Stark Industries are now in his hands.”

Buzz.

A dull silent vibration shook in the confinement of Tony’s jean pocket, pulling him out of his sullen trance. Instinctively ignoring the notification, as he listened onto the blurred words of the lawyer reading his late father’s will.

Biting his lip to contain his swirling emotions -- aggravation to just collect his inherited earnings, and head home to you.

Buzz.

With a hazy eye-roll, Tony casually sneaked his palm into his pocket, retrieving the phone. As the family lawyer droned on reading, aged eyes glued onto the paper; Tony peaked at the screen, with the quick analysis of face ID -- his pupils dilated like saucers.

His nostrils flared, inhaling deeply, his chest heaving -- he gotta get home immediately. An iron grip onto the phone, he roughly dug it back into his pocket, his foot tapping against the carpeted flooring. Antsy.

God, please make time go faster.

Buzz.

His fingers itched to snatch the cellular device, internally screaming for another peak at the salacious cheeky messages.

Messages from you -- photos of yourself seated on his bedroom floor, in only a high-waisted thong, and his custom tailored blazer.

The creamy beige against your buttery smooth bronze skin was divine, Tony swears anything you wear is pulled off with elegance. Your brown areolas are slipping out just a tad bit from the flaps, a hint of what’s awaiting for him.

His cock hardened against the denim fabric, Tony salivates whenever you wear his clothing, his scent imprinting onto your flesh - of you in compromising positions, your neatly manicured fingers inside your panties, rubbing your swollen nub. Biting your plump bottom lip.

Buzz.

Another picture with a text, you were sipping from a glass, his best Scotch, with the typed words, “I miss you. I know my favorite boy is blue, come back home so I can take care of you.” Signed with a kissy face emoji, and a red heart.

You were leaning on your elbows, your bouncy ass in the air, legs bent upward with your ankles playfully interlocked in the air.

The glass of ale leaning downward against your teasing lips, and sultry eyes through the reflective mirror -- Tony’s cock twitched, oh he’s gonna eat you up when he gets home.

- It was midnight, the full moon shining bright in the inky indigo sky -- beaming upon the Stark manor. The white fluorescent solar satellite glistening upon the grand bedroom where two lovers lay satiated in bed.

Rubbing random circles by the pads of your fingertips on Tony’s sweaty broad chest, taming the beast into a purring feline.

“I love you.” Tony’s mild slurred speech infiltrated the serene silence, your nose scrunched up in glee. “I love you too.” you murmured in his neck, a lazy grin stretched on your face.

For hours, Tony, and yourself haven’t left the bedroom, stringing release after release -- letting Tony pinch, pull your hair, bruise, slap, and choke your soft flesh-- that’s what he loves about you, trusting him wholeheartedly with your body, and soul.

A lot of tears of euphoria, and fear of abandonment. Reassuring Tony that you would never leave him, breathy hymns of I love yous in his ear.

It’s been a couple of difficult few weeks, Howard Stark has passed at the age of 74. A fatal car crash taking his life, leaving behind his only son. It was only freshly five months ago that Tony lost his mother, Maria. Uterine cancer - multiple tumors.

Maria Stark, the matriarch of the family, was the light of Tony’s life. Maria was a saint, even at death’s door, she had a positive perspective. You can still recall her calling her tumors fruit bowls of pain - her tumors were the size of miniature melons; grew from the size of strawberries.

And when she died -- the already fractured relationship of father and son deteriorated to ash. Howard started becoming colder, more stricter on his son -- his disappointment fueling by the second.

Clayed into a modernized Narcissus -- guising his trauma with bloviating chatter to impress the little people. Boasting his youthful genius with no shame.

Tony may have been born from the finest cloth, a silver-spoon wedged in his mouth -- but he oozes the work ethic of a blue-collar joe.

Under the molden gait of a promising demigod is a fragile boy -- yearning for affection. A neglected child desperate for attention.

Sending nudes to your boyfriend while he’s attending his dead father’s will hearing -- many would deem that as distasteful -- tacky, even. But, you knew Tony’s coping mechanisms.

Frat parties, drinking excessively to the brink of oblivion, and copious amounts of sex.

Tony was raised in a household, where any emotional turmoil expressed to his father was shot down, except with his mother -- he needs a womanly touch.

He never saw his conquests as ladies, only whores to get his rocks off, but once he laid eyes on you -- sweet, and bubbly -- that little rich boy was a goner.

Succumbing to a dazed half-slumber, Tony’s cell phone rings at the bedside table -- you groaned at the intrusion. Flashing on the screen was Happy’s goofy grin, one of Tony’s closest friends. You mumbled a ‘of fucking course’, Tony cheekily chuckled at your frustration.

“Don’t worry, sweetcheeks. This won’t take long.” With the wisp of a lingering kiss on your hairline, Tony begrudgingly detached himself from you--proudly strutting his naked bare firm ass, picking up his boxers from the floor shamelessly displaying his hung cock, and balls.

“Nice ass.” you teased. Tony snorted, “Nice? Toots, it’s the finest ass. And you love it.” He winked at you over his shoulder, you giggled. Tony’s footfalls faded down the hall, his conversation blurring into the distance. You laid back down, sighing as you stared up at the ceiling, quickly getting bored.

Without Tony to entertain you, you had nothing to do. Maybe I could get a head start on my thesis? Your eyes languidly rolled to the corner of your lids, staring at your opened crumbled book-bag mocking you at the corner of the room, Fuck that. You grumbled.

Mindlessly deciding to get dressed, and search for substance. Hours of unadulterated love-making can take out a lot of energy.

Nimble quiet feet tip-toe down the stairs, covered in only Tony’s wrinkled white button-down, brown statuesque legs gracefully head to the kitchen -- but you halt in your tracks. A dim light seeps from the crack out of an office -- Howard’s former office.

Curiosity overwhelms you, biting down your tongue, you check your surroundings, making sure Tony is nowhere in sight. Earlier in the day, the office was locked -- why is it now open?

Open-palm press against the door, a tiny creak of the mahogany makes you cringe internally. Stealthy you walk into the office, nothing seems to be out of place. Maybe Tony was in here? Fidgety fingers skim against the polished wooden desk, at the corner of your eye, a mess of papers sit idly by.

You pick the papers up, fastly flicking through it. Statements declaring Tony as the new CEO of Stark Industries, royalties, and -- mechanic blueprints?

Your chest began heaving, breaths still choppy fuming out of your nose, your left eye twitched from the stressing bile rising. Here in your hands are the blueprints of a familiar vehicle -- Howard Stark’s car. Descriptive details on the full functionality of the car, why are these here?

Warm palms clutch your shoulders, soothingly rubbing, you flinch by the surprise, “You weren’t meant to see those.” A hot breath fan against your ear, you whimper, his voice sounded husky, menacingly.

Not daring to look him in the eye, frozen in your spot as if the soles of your feet grew roots in the flooring, Tony’s grasp on your arms tighten. “The old man was going to take me off the will. I know he was.”

A chaste kiss on your temple, “As if I didn’t take his shit over the years just for nothing. Blaming me for my mother’s death.” He grumbled against your skin, your blood running cold. There was no remorse in his voice, a hint of satisfaction.

This isn’t the Tony you knew.

A beast of his father’s making.

“Tony - I - I won’t tell anyone, I promise--” Tony shushed your stuttering, his rough hands snaking its travel to your waist, slithering his forearms around your torso, ensnaring you.

“I know, baby. I know you wouldn’t. You’re my good girl.” He spoke in your hair, small lingering kisses on your scalp. Tony was rocking your body back and forth, cradling you -- he can sense your fear.

With trepidation, you held his arms, a little shaky. “Tony, let’s just go back to bed.” Your voice was cracking, this isn’t the man you fell in love with, and you wanted to just run away as far as you can.

“You’re scared of me?” Although it was an intended question, its tone came off as a fact. Indeed you were terrified of him.

“No.” You spat too quickly for your liking. Tony gripped your chin, and twisted your head to face him, “I would never hurt you. I love you. Everything I do is for you.” Your breath hitched, his face was morphed into a sad feral puppy.

“I know. I know you do.” You feigned a weak smile, “I just didn’t think --” you stopped yourself before you vomited any other words. “Do what? Kill?” Tony cocked a brow, with a shit-eating grin. “I did it before. For you.” Tears were forming at the brim of his eyes, your doe-eyes widened, you began squirming in his arms. “Tony, what did you do?!” you shrieked, limbs failing.

Tony’s iron-grip didn’t let up, refusing to let you go, “He wasn’t right for you!” Tony bellowed on the top of his lungs, impulsive rage seeping through, fumbling feet colliding.

Both of your bodies falling to the carpeted floor as Tony tried to restrain your wrists, fumbling feet slipping. A miscalculated misstep sent you, and Tony colliding downward.

Tony’s weight pinning you down. Confusion making your head go dizzy, “What do you mean?” You whispered. Tony smashed his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks, “You know what I mean.” His brows furrowed, gently his forehead on yours, his eyes staring into your soul.

Realization hits you like a freight train, flashes of your ex, the cops alerting you of his disappearance, Tony’s lingering shadow always appearing to provide comfort -- “Brock?” a lone tear trickle down your eye, down your temple, and hitting the carpet below. Tony nodded frantically.

Tony’s lips peppered against your face, your cheeks, your forehead, your eye-lids, your nose, your chin; mumbling affection against your tear-stained face.

It’s been three years since Brock vanished, rumors flew around campus from students believing he killed himself in some remote location, you lost him in the first years of university.

You were grief-stricken, but Tony, being the ever-present close friend lend a shoulder -- then soon, it blossomed into much more.

“Now, it's just us. We can start a new dollface.” Tony sniffled, hot tears drip upon your flesh, “We can start our own family” he rasps, “I can be a dad. A better father.” Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

A family? You both were just shy of twenty-one, and already Tony is mapping out your entire futures. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was futile.

Tony murmured nonono to your bodily request of escape, chasing clumsy blubbering kisses against your chavile. Your body began to be wrecked with sobs, your chest heaving.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s better this way.” Tony’s brows were furrowed sorrowfully, his tremor low with ache. “You killed Brock, how could you?! I loved him!” Tony gripped your jaw, painfully his fingers kneading,

“Loved him?! He wasn’t right for you! You need me! I need you! No one is going to love you like I do. I loved you the first day I met you.” Harsh fingers rip off the fabric, exposing your breasts to the elements.

“You’re mine! No one can have you! I will kill anyone who tries to take you away!” Tony’s mouth plunged, fangs nibbling on your nipples, his entire mouth suckling your left breasts.

Tony’s left hand pinching your right nipple, twisting and slapping it roughly. You yelped, shutting your eyes closed. Your skin crawled, Tony’s brown eyes peered at you, dissatisfied that you refuse to look at him.

A sloppy pop echoed, “Look at me!” he slapped you, the crack of it pounding in your ears, the heat of the sting scorched throughout your cheek. Your eyes popped open, watery from the hit, Tony has never once laid a hand on you -- until now.

Nose to nose, “We’re gonna be a family--” one of his hands traveled down to tug down his boxers, his hard swollen cock is man-handled in his palm, you struggled to get away, but Tony clutched your wrists in one hand, and pinned it on the carpet.

Tony spit on your cunt, rubbing it within your velvety folds by the base of his veiny cock, earning a hiss out of you. “You’re going to look so hot swollen with our baby.” Your thighs twitched, Tony roughly forced your thigh to wrap around his torso, positioning himself.

“Please - Tony, please don’t”, you cried, Tony shushed you. Lining himself to your hole, with no hesitation, plunged his cock inside your pussy. You screamed, your back arching, “Feels lovely, right? Feels so fucking delicious - you were made for me.” Tony snarled, biting your chin, his tongue trailing your jawline, pistoning his cock inside you.

Dripping slick smears against your thighs, clenching onto his cock, a broken groan slips from Tony’s lips, “Fuck - yes, do that again.” You were blubbering tears down your cheeks, the inevitable pleasure Tony strings out of you is undeniable.

“You’re so tight, and warm.” He growled in your ear, “I can’t wait to have a baby with you. You all swollen, waddling around with bare-feet. You’ll be a great mother - just like mine.” He whispered, biting on your lobe.

You murmured muffled whines in the crock of his neck, bruising is slowly forming on your hips, fucking you like it’s the last time. Shivers run down Tony’s spine, time slows down.

Sweaty skin slapping against skin spurred him on, taking all of you. Your nails scratch at his palm, still bounding you down.

“I love you.” He whimpered, you bite your lip, refusing to sink into the instinct of saying it back. Tony perked his head up from your neck, growling, “Say it back!” he thrusted his pelvis against you, a cattle wail hit you, “Say -” thrust “it-” another thrust “-back!” his smile falters slow, a bruising touch.

He can see you slowly yielding, small pants of electric euphoria, “No!” you bite back.

Wet lips slant against yours. Your entire body jolting from his unforgiving pace, your back burning slightly from the rug beneath you.

Releasing your wrists, his rough hand find it’s way to your back, hiking you up, squeezing your ass in his fingers, bucking your hips; fucking you onto him, your nails dig into his sculpted back -- scratching for him to stop, but it felt too good.

You’ve become dizzy. Your teeth sink into his shoulder, hoping the pain makes him halt his actions, but it makes him harden inside of you.

There’s no space between you, melting into one, the friction, the heat; the tethers of reality blur into nothing.

“Please - say you love me.” Tony pleaded, his weary eyes sinking into yours. A robbery -- a heart-wrenching robbery of your soul, in an instant, you didn’t see a cold-blooded killer, but the mire of a lost boy.

He slowed down his thrusts, leisure movements, his brown orbs are glossy, “Say it, please.” Tony gently kisses you, not feverish, but you can taste the sweet commitment. Like he doesn’t own you, but he worships you.

“I love you.” you mumbled against his swollen lips, his eyes dilated, rubbing his nose against yours, “I love you” maneuvering your hips, squelching can be heard - sticky as honey, as the pace picked up.

Your fingers grip his soft fluffy hair, his balls slapping against your ass, “I love you, Tony.” You sucked on his bottom lip. He whimpered. His cock was coated in your juices, you can feel the swelling of his balls, and his uneven jerking movements -- he was close.

“Cum for me, baby.” Tony’s eyes were shut, he mewled, “Cum inside me, give me a baby, Tony.” The dam breaks. The window bursts open from a gust of wind, the full moon gleamed upon your sweaty sheen bodies, a howl erupts from Tony -- as the wolf within has been unhinged -- primal, feral fueled lust.

Toothy grin, all fangs lunged for your pulse point, devouring you. Squirted juices spray from you, splashing against his toned stomach, not once stopping, riding through the orgasm. Tony’s tongue peaked out, droplets of your cum sprinkling his mouth.

Your vision turns white, an inhuman scream leaves you, Tony collapses onto you.

He’s trembling, frightened, you massage his dome, “My sweet boy.” Tony sobs into your chest, ensnaring himself around your torso. You hugged him, cradling like a baby, as he cried water-falls.

“It’s okay.” You kiss his head, a lingering one, “It’s going to be alright.”

You’re all he has.

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