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simp-ly-writes · 6 months

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A Shadow Company Visit (pt.4)

PSA: This can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Commander Philip Graves x Reader & Shadows

Summary: What happens when you get kidnapped?

Warnings: 1500 words, ANGST with a HEA. a bit of overprotective themes, mentions of children.

A/N: We are in for a long one folks with this chapter, thank you @unicorngirly1, for the ideas!! it appear that this series just keeps on giving ahahaha; my asks are open as of the publication of this chapter for those with ideas as well!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

A Shadow Company Visit Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

↳ Waving the driver goodbye, you enter the home and lock the door behind yourself, a beep sounds as the door opens and closes: signalling your entrance.

↳ Getting your child ready for bed, you curse underneath your breath as you notice a light left on in the bathroom. Thankfully Philip was not tonight home to see this since it was a major pet peeve of his

↳ Removing their little shoes and socks as they stir slightly when changing them into their nightwear, you flick the baby monitor on alongside some white noise before tip-toeing out of the room so you could bunker down for the night as well

↳ Placing your phone on to charge on your nightstand you undress, wash yourself up and place yourself into some home clothes before making your way downstairs. The security system beeps to your presence once more as you cross over the front door sensor and make your way towards the kitchen

↳ Feeding the dog alongside yourself, you finish your day by sneakily watching the next episode of some reality TV show you and your partner were addicted to before finding yourself falling asleep on the couch with the dog laying at your feet

↳ Yet unknowingly, as you were sleeping a group of masked figures triggered the alarm system that night- waking you up with an abrupt fright to the beeps as your dog roared to attack, their past training flooding their system before they fell to the floor and you heard yourself scream in tune with your child upstairs

↳ Your hands went to secure the gun taped underneath the coffee table, Philip had placed various weapons around the house for a moment like this yet he was not there that night as your limbs got tied together and a bag was placed over your head, the system beeped one last time upon your exit

↳ Philip was on a mission with task force 141, left unknowing as to the panic that had been brewing at the headquarters awaiting his return

↳ Shadows move around in a panicked state, preparing for a war; The night patrol that was supposed to secure the perimeter of the commanders home-lot had not returned alongside the assisting squad sent later in the night and as the higher-ranking unit appeared, the situation and the child kneeled over in grief from atop the stairs had spelled destruction and overwhelming grief amongst the Shadows

↳ Many of the high ranking shadows were already praying as they awaited the commanders outburst. Yet the mental torture of trying to stabilize the dog found in the home while sending the child to the hospital over their minor bruises was already taking a toll and would forever outweigh anything else coming their way

↳ The intelligence service teams were already working overtime as they called in a favour from the British SAS and to say that Laswell lost her shit on them was an understatement over her best friend...

↳ As Philip shook hands with Farah as another mission was completed successfully, smiling and giving his fellow Shadows each a pat on the back alongside some words of praise they all cheered while boarding the plane for the ride back

↳ Yet Graves stopped when he heard your name being yelled down the phone line by Laswell, he knew something had to be up and as she blew up on him for not protecting you better, the commanders eyes darkened as he took in Kates outburst while he strapped himself into communications while boarding the plane set for home

↳ "Shadow-01 how copy? Shadow-01? Commander? Commander Graves Sir?!" The voice yelled down the line, pure panic stricken in their vocal cords.

↳ "This is Shadow-01"

↳ The line goes silent as dread hangs in the air as Graves' mind floods with possibilities and images of pure horror flash to the surface as he grips the gun tighter to his chest

↳ "Commander... we have your child in recovery alongside the dog. Both are alive and breathing. Your partner... hasn't been located since 19:00..."

↳ The information laughs mockingly in Philips face as he cannot believe what he heard earlier to be true, looking around the plane, all shadows refuse to make eye-contact with their commander as they witness pure rage overcome his form

↳ "FUCK" is screamed in distain as the commander rips off the headset and breathing becomes laboured. His chest rig feels all too tight against his form as does the metal of the seat digging into his thighs and then coldness rushes over his entire being

↳ Placing the headset back on with a whiplash of emotional outburst to downright composure, the commander signals back to headquarters, "I want a full report as soon as I am off with god-damn plane, not one detail misplaced with Laswell and her crew waiting in the boardroom. Shadow-01 out."

↳ Once arriving back on base a hoard of members are awaiting for their Commander, papers in hand and speeches, they get Philip back up to date as he rallies squads together, addresses the intelligence services and suits up in angered silence waiting to strike

↳ They had to wait until night for the technical advantage, and to say that the commanders wait was restless would be an understatement, this man was pacing up and down the halls and punching walls, ripping apart his desk while sitting and silently crying at your own as he bandaged his shaking hands

↳ The watch you gifted him beeped as he stood up from his chair and hurriedly marched over to the awaiting vehicles. Slapping the roofs car thrice and wheels spun out the gate that he didn't have the heart to laugh fondly in remembrance at

↳ The cleaning of the alleged house was swift as was Graves deadly precision, their pleads for forgiveness fell on dead ears as he calmly made his way through the house, Shadows following his every order as task force 141 shook the place in search of the ringleader

↳ Entering the office space, Graves sees red as you have a guns barrel pointed into your skull as the grip your hair, moving your body into their compliance

↳ Your captor opens his mouth, showing the yellow teeth and chapped lips that were soon overridden with blood as a shot rang out in the room, another followed soon after through their heart as you partner didn't have the patience to hear any of it

↳ Your legs gave out for under you as the final shot was placed. Your skin being corrupted with blood as Philip shoved his gun into an awaiting Shadows hands as he knelt down beside you and signalled for the team to secure the perimeter of the house for evac

↳ You reached your hand up to his face, unlocking his helmet as it fell on to the floor, your bloodied hand rushed to settle his hair in comfort as his eyes closed and he moved to kiss your palm

↳ Taking some supplies from his vest, he cleaned your hands and wiped your face of the blood it held, apologizing softly as you winced from the bruising that had formed from the captors strong hold on you

↳ Helping you to stand, you wobbly made your way to the doorframe, holding it to steady yourself before becoming swept off your feet by the commander, the Shadows waiting by the door smiled brightly at you as you gave them a small thumbs up causing them to chuckle back at you

↳ Being placed in the back of the SUV, you saw Laswell with her arms wide open awaiting your presence. A tear falling softly down her cheek as she felt you in her arms, whispering how thankful she was that you were still in her life

↳ While being checked up on at the hospital, Philip refuses to leave your side as you pressure him into taking basic meals and a shower, guilt eating him alive as his memories flash back to those moments.

↳ In the meanwhile, task force 141 hand you a plethora of kind messages both through texts and letters for your speedy recovery, Laswell is happily taking over as godmother- watching over yours and Philips child and dog happily

↳ The Shadows place balloons, flowers and other small offering around your room as a couple stand watch outside and move on rotation even though their commander has asked them to take their leave many times by now, you feel loved by their devotion to protect

╰┈➤ A/N: thank you all for the support on this series!

A Shadow Company Visit Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

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penvisions · 4 months

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return the favor {chapter 21}

Pairing: Post-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader

Summary: After an explosive fight the night before, your trio gets ready to depart from Jackson. Finding yourself back on outside the gates, everything seems different. But then again so are you, so are your circumstances.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: canon typical language, canon typical angst, canon typical violence, use of weapons, use of guns, use of machete, fighting, violence, reference to previous injuries, reference to past traumas, ptsd symptoms in both joel and bean, self-depreciation, super fucking sad moment in scene two of this one, MAJOR ANGST, yelling, conflict, emotional baggage, talk of outbreak day, medical jargon, reader has a lot of thoughts on a cure for the virus, existentialism

A/N: inspiration for this chapter was 'let it burn' by shaboozy. these two have grabbed a hold of my thoughts and i am writing pages like a mad woman. bean and joel mean so so much to me. hopefully it's all coherent, please let me know what y'all are thinking! i know it's a mess for these two right now an the content is angsty and may be triggering in this part of the story. my inbox is always open, love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

The morning came quickly, no sleep having been found under the cover of night.

You couldn’t have dosed off for more than a few minutes at a time, an hour at the most spent on the cusp of awareness. That in-between state where you were immobile, and your mind tried it’s hardest to let you slip under but just shy of lying about. It was warm, that was the only consolation of the house offered to you for the night. It wasn’t another night sleeping on the frozen ground and hoping the temperature didn’t drop or the windchill robbed you of breath and feeling. Of constantly waking to check if the other sleeping bags were still rising and falling with the even breaths of those inside.

Sighing, you reached out across the empty bed to stretch out your arms from the curled up position you had adopted. But you sat up suddenly when the spot your hand had reached was warm. As if someone had been sitting on the edge of the bed. As you did so, a thick blanket you didn’t recall seeing when pulling the covers back pooled around your waist.

You heard the front door open and close, but no footsteps came further into the house. Not Tommy coming over to begin the day, but his brother departing on his own.

He must’ve returned after you hid away for the night, biding his time until things calmed down enough for him to enter the house undisturbed. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you pictured him laying the blanket over you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as you slept.

Of him setting on the edge of his own bed, consumed by his thoughts and feelings that had to be so overwhelming he had decided to self-destruct and tear everything around him down in the process.

It hurt. It hurt to picture him alone by his own creation, but still feeling the desire to make sure you were comfortable in wake of that.

But it didn’t mean anything, it couldn’t. He had made it his mission to find the words that would hurt you the most and use them against you. To use your own insecurities against you, point them out and use them as a way to rationalize this course of action. Rationalize abandoning you, you and Ellie.

Joel.

Joel was standing beside one of the horses, the stall gate open as he fastened a saddle to the tall creature, tightening the buckle to make sure it was secure. The horse snickered, signaling to him that you were approaching if your footsteps hadn’t reached him quite yet. When he turned to look over his shoulder, you felt your body twitch, fight or flight activated in a visceral way.

You immediately dropped Ellie’s hand. She reached for it even as her own emotions fluttered up and became overwhelming. But you stepped away, nearly knocking into Tommy in the process.

When he looked up from his task completely, his eyes met yours and you turned on your feet and walked away without a second thought. Your name followed, but you didn’t turn back. A chorus of your name sounded all around as you fled the stables on shaky legs, face hot and heart thudding painfully hard in your chest. Head dizzy with the brief encounter of a man who you hadn’t expected to see ever again too much after a fitful night.

A hand closed around your arm and you thrashed against it, whipping around and landing a punch on whoever it was right in the middle of their chest.

“Get off of me!” Terror colored the air, the pure feeling of being trapped. Of being touched by someone who you didn’t give permission to. But the person moved toward you, grunting from the force of the hit you had landed on them, breath being drawn back in to recover. Their arms came around you, cradling you to their chest and hands holding the back of your head as you lost the feeling in your limbs. Body going slack in a last-ditch effort of self-preservation.

The person didn’t expect that, and they lost their footing, knees hitting the ground hard when you jostled along with them. But they tried their best to not let you land on your own numb limbs. You could barely hear anything over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears, your own name being called out softly not breaking through. Eye blinking rapidly, you tried to clear your blurring vision, though it wasn’t from tears. You had exhausted all of those last night.

“We gotta stop, darlin’.” Joel’s somber tone finally broke through, his voice thick with tears he wasn’t letting fall. They were a shine in his beautiful eyes when you looked up at him with an unfocused gaze. Vision blurring and sharpening in a rapid succession. His own softening when he realized you were barely there, barely present under the direct attention he was giving to you now. You watched the wrinkles around his brow furrow, deepening as he tried to coax something, anything out of you.

But you were unable to comply, unable to give him anything else. He had taken everything already, burned down what he didn’t like with vicious words that had festered all night. Taken ahold of you and ruined the rest. You had nothing for him anymore.

“I-I can’t keep feeling like my chest is gonna cave in every time I lose sight of you.” He murmured into your hair, leaning down to speak only to you. Distantly, you were aware of the watching eyes of Ellie and Tommy, just inside the threshold of the stables. Both uncertain of what to do, if they should separate you from each other or let this play out. Joel was holding you with such care, such caution and it made them both pause. “My breathing gets stuck, it hurts, darlin’. Feels like knives when you get hurt, spreads all over my body, it numbs me. When I can’t help you, when I can’t see you or reach you, call you back to the present. And that’s not good, we both know that.”

“Joel…” You cautiously treaded, voice sounding foreign and so unlike your own even to your own ears as they steadily cleared. Unsure why he was doing this. Now, of all times. He had already made his case, tore you down as he self-destructed. But he was trying to explain now the reason he had done so in such a catastrophic way. Just like how he was trying to make amends with Ellie, giving her the choice he had so selfishly stolen from her on the same path of destruction just the night before.

“It’s not…it’s not easy. And the further we’ve traveled, the more time we spend out here. It’s just…it’s not something that can last. And for that, I am sorry. I-I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I fired at you yesterday, you have to know that was all projection. You are strong, you are capable, you are so god damn smart, darlin’. But…it’s not…” His gloved hands were strong on the back of your head, on the small of your back despite the way they ached in the cold of the early morning. One last hold on you before he let you go. You knew him, you could read him, and it was too real of an understanding that he was trying to spell out for you now, even through the fog taken over your entire being.

You had known, deep down. That the feelings didn’t mean anything, even if you acknowledged them. They didn’t change anything, didn’t alter the dynamic, only gave it a depth that was dangerous.

“I’m the one who isn’t strong enough, can’t move fast enough. Can’t keep up with everything thrown our way to get here or what’s to come. But I would try until my last breath, darlin’, please believe that. And that’s the problem.”

“Because you do feel something for me.” You didn’t argue, didn’t try to call him out. You simply wanted to understand, the hurt of his words still rooted deep in your mind and heart.

“…yes.” He finally admitted, finally decided to be honest with you about what had begun to develop over the journey here. But it didn’t bring you any joy now, to know that the man felt for you the way you had begun to felt for him. It was damnation, he had been correct in his description. Because you both knew that clinging to that spark was far more dangerous than trying to cultivate it into a fully grown tangible thing. It would prompt the most resilient of things from you both, violent in their tendencies and ugly in the worst ways if picked up upon by others. Leverage to use against one or both of you, something that would bring about death.

“Okay.” Was all you could say, face calm despite the storm raging inside of you. It was breaking, beginning to wane and soon it would disappear. It would leave you empty, a gaping hole in the thick plaster you had slathered and smoothed over yourself in order to make it in the world as it was today. Having already been torn down once by a man with careful words and hands, capable of helping you to create something when nothing seemed to matter.

He had given you hope, but the man standing in front of you now was different. Joel wasn’t feeding into the same notion, instead adding his own layer of solution over the walls he had stumbled through in clumsy motions. He wouldn’t be helping you to dismantle it, too afraid of what it would mean. Too afraid of what it would symbolize in this world. So unlike the man before him, but so similar in the ways that he had nestled himself into the confines of your heart.

Your arms didn’t feel like your own as they reached up and snaked around his neck, your legs didn’t feel like your own as they moved to straddle one of his own and give you purchase to embrace him back. Your lips didn’t feel like your own as they met his in a chaste kiss. A goodbye that wasn’t bittersweet, but venomous. His tears finally fell, dampening the skin of your neck.

Overcoming the disastrous events of yesterday would take time, something of a luxury neither of you had. He was trying to make amends, trying to make you understand. That’s all he could do, was try. And all you could do in return was take the heavy stones he had tied around his limbs and loosen them. Let them fall away and take them on yourself so he wouldn’t have to carry them. You had before and you could do it again.

“I can’t go with you.” You whispered, lips brushing against his as the words sprouted from you. The truth too painful to admit at full volume, too painful to say at all. But you had to. You had to tell him you understood it was the right thing, that he understood it was the right thing. Distance. Perhaps long-lasting separation that turned into only once knowing each other.

“I know.”

He helped you to stand back up, putting distance between you both as he walked back into the stables. Tommy trailed after him, both men giving you a moment with a confused and concerned Ellie. She was too young to understand that despite the apology, the bridge had been burned and it was only one of you who would take her to where she needed to go.

You turned to her, not wanting to do this, not wanting her to see how hurt you were but knowing that whatever she did glimpse, it was absolutely not aimed at her. “I’m not mad at you, Ellie. I just…I’m not good enough to get you where you need to go if he’s there. And he’s not good enough to do it if I’m there. He made it clear as crystal he has one care he’s allowing himself in the world and it’s you.”

“You’re being selfish! I know he’s an ass. He yelled at me too, but look! I’m trying, I’m giving him a second chance. Why can’t you?” Her words were sharp, cutting into you like the blade you wielded and you took each one without a grimace.

"Ellie, that man is your future. He will protect you until his last breath. But we can’t all travel together again.” Your eyes moved from her deep frown and her hands gripped tight on the second bag that dangled by her legs to the figure of Joel leading a singular horse out of the stables. “I have so much care and love for you, but it’s not a good fit. All three of us, it was always supposed to be him, Ellie.

I’m not able to protect you, I’ve been out of it most of our trip, unable to do anything without his help. He’s the one who can get you there, he’s the one who is capable. I’m so sorry for making you feel like you could count on me, I’m not the one to place your bets on. He is.”

"So what, it all meant nothing? The whole fucking journey here didn't mean anything to you?"

"Ellie, please listen to me and hear me, it meant everything to me. but it's past and there are some things I have to take care of."

“You’re just gonna leave me? Like he tried to, like he regrets trying to do. But you’re actually gonna fucking do it, huh? You’re a real piece of work. So much for sticking with me. Fucking liar.” She stalked off, refusing to hear anything else you had to say. “Go, get the fuck away from me! I never want to see you again!”

Joel’s hand curling around her shoulder as she crossed the threshold of the stables made them the perfect wounded pair and you turned your back on them as they began to walk away, hoping that this was all for the best. That you were making the right move.

You were still at the stables when Tommy returned, his pack still over his shoulders but his rifle was missing. He was silent as he entered the stall you were readying a horse in. It was a beautiful animal, with white and brown patches all over. You figured the coloring would help you to blend into the landscape easily, having a long journey ahead of you.

“Where will you go?” Tone so unlike his brother, though the twang of a Texan accent curled around his words all the same.

“Home.” You grunted as you tightened a bag to hang from the saddle, the pack holding a small collection of camp kitchen supplies. Maria had tried to give you as much to work with as possible, not wanting you to starve or be without a source of heat should more storms greet you outside the gates.

“And where is that?”

“California. Should’ve gone back a long time ago, but…things never worked out.” You could sense the curiosity in him, so unlike his brother who hid his emotions. He had been nothing but kind to you, even if you hadn’t directly interacted with him. But if he was related to Joel, he was a good man. Indulging him, you found yourself opening up to him with more directness than you had with anyone before. Wanting a lifeline here in Jackson should you find your way back here. “Tennessee was home when the Outbreak happened, stuck around there for a while….then found myself in Boston. I remember catching glimpses of you with Joel, every so often. And then suddenly you disappeared. Wasn’t ever sure what happened, but I figured a loss is a loss.”

“Yesterday was such a hectic day. With falling on your arm and everything…will you be okay?” He followed you out of the stall, out of the stables, the horse letting you lead it leisurely along. Two shadows waiting close by, a horse already saddled and ready beside them.

“I hope so.” You offered him a soft smile, grateful for his concern.

“Will you be okay?” His inflection changed, eyes looking between both of your own as he moved closer and placed a hand on your shoulder. You sighed, trying to shake the thoughts of what happened today from your mind, knowing they would be revisited tonight when you try to rest.

“I’ve done pretty good so far, think I can manage to get over your big brother.” You knocked his shoulder with your own. His arms suddenly came around you in a hug, his chin hooking over one of them and nearly knocking your hat from atop your head. But you didn’t flinch, too worn out to fight against comfort if someone wanted to offer it to you. With warmth blossoming in your chest, you let your head lean into his own and closed your eyes.

“Thank you.” His low voice was strong, emotions strong as you hesitantly returned the sudden embrace. “Thank you for helping get him here.”

“Thank you for being alive,” You whispered back, the worry of how this all could’ve turned out weighing heavily on you even in of luck and chance. Of the sheer determination Tommy must’ve exhibited to not only leave with the Fireflies all those years ago, but to actually leave the organization and not find himself on a hit list. That he found refuge here in Jackson, a life here in Jackson, it was all so overwhelmingly wonderful. For a man who had been down so many wrong paths to find a good one to travel on after so long. That it allowed him to not only survive but live, given him the opportunity to reconnect with his brother.

Given him the chance to make something out of the wreckage of this world that would last.

“You have a home here.” He leaned back, arms still around you as he looked down at you, trying to find the right words for a goodbye that wouldn’t add weight to the events since arriving. “Maria likes you, sees you. I like ya just based on the fact that you’re not afraid to holler back if someone comes at ya. Can throw a hell of a right hook too. We’ll be here for you, whenever you decide to return.”

You nodded once, allowing him to help you mount the horse and followed that morning’s patrol through the town and toward the gate.

The railroad was easiest, so you stuck close to it when you could. The open land setting your nerves on high alert, there was no coverage out here on the plains. But you were hoping that the advantage of having a horse now would allow you a good head start if someone tried you, the rifle on your shoulder too. Maria did well, giving you everything you might need. More help than you could have ever hoped for, including the map you had found in the pocket of your new coat, detailing the route Joel and Ellie would be taking.

You had stood still for a long while, beside the horse you had let loose to get a drink from a small creek. The map tight in your gloved hand as you stared out toward the expanse of Colorado. The state line between Wyoming and Idaho close by, only a few minutes travel. Torn between moving in the opposite direction of them, worried for them and the possible threats that awaited them. But they were strong, stronger without you. They would be okay, you had to hope they would be okay. Tucking the map back into your pocket, you clicked your tongue to get the horse to come back to you.

Mounting it easily, you made your way west and crossed the state line.

Night fell and with it you hunkered down in the mild protection of the woods. The horse laying down and allowing you to lean up against their warm body, one blanket thrown over his neck to help stave off some of the cold. You had your sleeping bag curled over your shoulders, unzipped to make a small shield against the biting chill, but even with all the supplies and advice and kind words Maria had offered you, you were still utterly and completely alone. The fire crackling in front of you did nothing to warm the cold that had taken root in your chest, not born of the weather. It would only defrost with the snickering laughter of a sarcastic teenager, in the rumbling chuckle of a stoic man, in the lightness they both inspired in you despite the endless circumstances that decided to rain down upon you all.

Your heart ached for the gruff grunts Joel would make when settling down for the night, either in front of the fire for an imitation of a family dinner or for the attempt at getting some sleep for the evening. But it was a thing of the past, something you wouldn’t hear again. Alone. Completely and wholly alone. A sentence of your own making, a reality brought on by your foolish naivety that you were now subject to. Journey now shrouded in the selfish need to seek answers to questions that had plagued you for far too long. No longer intertwined with that of a brooding older man who had space in his heart enough for a girl who hid her pain behind terrible jokes. No longer a part of that dynamic, unsure if you ever were supposed to even be a part of it in the first place but having forced yourself into the fold when faced with returning behind the walls of the quarantine zone.

Spit back out in such a damning way.

Sighing, you stretched a boot out to stamp the small fire out. Shrugging tighter against the horse behind you, prompting them to turn their head and snuff against your hat in a teasing way. He was a good animal, easy to direct, willing to follow, gentle. But still, you were alone. Surrounded only by the bare trees of the wilderness you had to cross.

It was the fifth day after departing from Jackson when the universe decided you were ready for it to pick back up the punches. Tracking your progress on the map as you tried to calculate how many hours or steps it would take to trek through the dense woods that would get you through the state of Idaho and into the desert landscape of Nevada. It had been a discussion, between you and Maria, which route would be the most logical.

Either to gear up impossibly so in order to endure the remaining time of winter through the pacific northwest and make your way south through the long state of California to your hometown. Or to put up with the snow and ice for the duration of traveling through a corner of one state before finding relative refuge in the desert landscape that made up most of the south west part of the country. It would mean more exposure through the desert, but it would also mean lesser chances of running into people or Infected. More reliance on supplies and rationing.

After admitting that you weren’t very fond of the cold, of winter in general, maps of different states had been brought out from where they were collected in the council’s meeting place. She had allowed you to look them over, wanting to give you the best chance she could at accomplishing what you were set out to do. To help you, to help you find what you needed to in order to move on and begin to heal on your own terms. A journey she did not envy, but one she would do whatever she could to give you the best chance of returning to Jackson someday.

She liked you, came her admittance over a cup of coffee. You had sought her out in the early morning before Tommy had awoken to ready himself for the task his brother had desperately asked him to take over. Maria had been awake, her kitchen light visible from the house you were in across the street. Not having the courage to bother her otherwise in the wake of being torn down so completely by someone who you thought had accepted you. Hesitant to reach out and force a connection with the woman who had a literal commune’s worth of worries on her shoulder, paired with the ups and downs of pregnancy in a time where every aspect of it was washed in uncertainty.

But she saw you. Most likely told of the disastrous confrontation that had happened by her husband. Perhaps seeing you more then than she had previously.

You had initially planned to take Ellie to where she needed to go, staying with her for however long it would require hearing the Fireflies out. To apply logic and statistics to their case of proposed action with Ellie now in their hands. With her blood and tissue at their relative disposal in order to run tests, to assuage that she truly was immune in tests and medical procedures that would warrant a solid base to work off of. You weren’t being honest though, with either Joel or Ellie. You didn’t think it was possible. You didn’t think the creation of something so expansive that it would eradicate the very real and adaptive being of cordyceps would be easy, if at all possible. In this lifetime or the next.

The world had shifted. And there was no way to turn back the hand of time on something so complete and expansive. The world had decided what the new order was, the best way to endure it was to adapt. Alter ways of thinking to align with it, accept it. Hell, cordyceps had found a way to adapt in a relatively short twenty years. Evolution almost fast tracking in order to preserve itself for a longer duration. Another thing to consider when thinking about overcoming it. Adaptability meant survival, and if it was fast acting then surely it would find a way to take on elements of a vaccine or cure and circumvent the attempt.

The issue didn’t lie solely in the science and medical proficiency of the staff, but in the resources that it would take to even jumpstart such research. Ellie was only one person, so young and developed into her own mindset, she would’ve listened to them. Turned to you for your opinion, your guidance.

And you would’ve been honest with her then. In the face of whatever plan the Fireflies had concocted up while playing the waiting game. Playing the hoping game. That she would have to most likely remain at their facilities, if they even had any up and operating on the level they would require for such an egotistical task of altering the shift the world had deemed to make. That she would have to give herself over wholly to them, to their ministrations. That she could weaken her immune system in the process, fall victim to some other illness or virus in the efforts to find one for the outbreak. That it would be a shadow of a life, with no guarantee that it would make a difference, let alone a universal one.

That you believed it was hopeless.

And then you would’ve told her of your hometown, beginning the journey in that direction with the determination to show her the other coastline. To help her find another meaning for her life to have worth. Even if it was simply being alive. It meant so much these days, to simply be alive.

Though your thoughts were zoned out on an endless play of ‘what if’ ‘then what’ that didn’t matter anymore, you were on alert as you continued on. The sun trying to break through the cloud coverage in the last dredges of the day.

Just as your foot came down in another, countless step you swooped down to cloak yourself behind the fallen trunk of a pine tree. Ears straining and chest hurting with the effort to quiet your breathing, you could hear the distant sound of branches crunching, people walking among the wooded area just like you were. One voice sounded feminine, the other masculine. It was an easy conversation between them, a simple request to gather kindling for a fire since night would fall within the hour.

They weren’t speaking English, as least not completely, the voices sounding in a mixture of it and Spanish. Familiar but yet so wedged into the crevices of your mind after years of not using your household language. Such a tantalizing siren song that would allow for easier connection with the people you otherwise knew nothing about. Closing your eyes, you felt more than the pull of a weak desire to announce yourself, take a risk of introducing yourself in much the same way.

As soon as their voices seemed to move away, you pushed yourself up from where you were hidden and turned the other way. Not wanting to be around people after the disastrous attempt of connecting with someone so fresh and painful, a weight that you’re not sure would ever lift from your mind and heart. Resigned to be a singular soul wandering around the desolate landscape of what was once the world.

You were about to turn away when you heard a shuffle far too close for comfort. Followed by the hesitant call of something you hadn’t heard in over two decades. Your name. Your full name.

Head jerking around, rifle aimed at the ready; you gazed into a pair of eyes so similar to your own.

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zero00kiryu00 · 10 months

Note

Hey bestie! Fic swap? 👀✨️ specifically a super soft x reader with kiri? - ur bestie ghost 👻🩷

Pairing: Pro-Hero! Kirishima X Quirkless! Fem! Reader Length: 4.5k words || ao3 link || Genre: Hurt & Comfort, Romance, Nsfw, Aged-Up Characters (Pro-Hero!Kirishima) Headliner created by me. Warning tags: Praise, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, orgasm "denial", breeding kink, some nipple play, oral (f receiving), creampie, cockwarming. Synopsis: Y/N has had an awful week. To top off losing her job, Y/N's feeling of inadequacy as a quirkless individual bubble up to the surface. Fuelled by jealousy over her boyfriend's quirk, Y/N vents her insecurity to Kirishima. Kirishima comforts her as best as he can, making sure she knows she is more than enough.

BY CLICKING "READ MORE", YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT, AS STATED IN THE WARNING. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

“In today’s news, we explore recent happenings within the City…”

The quiet voice of the newscaster from the television speakers held your attention. The drone of the air conditioning mimicked the quiet mean-spirited voice in the back of your mind, ever present, but not a focal point until you thought about it for too long. It had been a terrible week, and somehow an even more terrible day. You had lost your job at the start of the week and things just went downhill from there. So, in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you sat on the couch, cross-legged and clutching onto a pillow, a blanket draped over your shoulders, and a half-finished bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of you, hoping to cheer yourself up with a girl power movie. It hadn’t really worked so you were just flipping through channels mindlessly until the news popped up.

“Another villain was successfully captured this afternoon. Pro-Heros Red Riot and Dynamight apprehended the tornado villain…”

The newscaster’s voice died away, blending in with the sounds of the air conditioning in the background. A film clip from that afternoon started playing on screen, the camera panning from building destruction to two burly young men high-fiving. You recognized them immediately, not just because they were famous heroes, but because you knew them personally. The young man with the spiky red hair and toothy grin, Eijirou Kirishima, better known as Red Riot, was your boyfriend. You stared as the camera zoomed in on his face, a couple fresh scratches on his right cheek from the battle, grinning ear to ear. It made you happy to see him doing so well as a pro-hero; to see his success. And yet, you couldn’t help the familiar, growing pit of jealousy that sank in your stomach.

You didn’t want to resent him for his success. He was so kind and caring with you; really, he was the perfect boyfriend. It wasn’t him you hated. It was yourself.

You continued watching the clip that played on the television. One of the reporters on scene asked the heroes to show off their quirks. Kirishima did it so effortlessly, smashing his fists together to emphasize his hardening quirk. You clutched the pillow you were holding just a bit tighter when the crowd on tv started to cheer for him, chanting over and over Red Riot. Your jaw tightened, your teeth gnashing against each other out of frustration.

“Stupid quirks…,” you muttered to yourself. “I’d be way better than any of them if I had my own…”

You trailed off just as the latch of the front door clicked open. Instinctively, you turned off the TV and tossed the remote beside you, burrowing further into your blanket, pulling it over your head and leaning onto the pillow.

“I’m home!” Kirishima shouted as he entered the house you shared, sounding more cheerful than he ever had before, or so it seemed to you, anyway.

“Hey,” you mumbled just loudly enough for him to hear from the entryway. You heard him kick off his boots and shuffle quickly down the hallway. He slid into the room heroically, striking a pose with his hands on his hips and grinning down on you.

“Guess who saved the city again?” he proclaimed loudly, following up with a boisterous laugh. You just rolled your eyes and sunk further into the pillow, letting out a long sigh.

“You?” you guessed monotonically, just to amuse him. Kirishima’s smile started to disappear as he got a closer look at how you were sitting. He knew that hunched posture meant something had happened; usually it meant he had done something, but he couldn’t think of anything he had done wrong this time.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice soft and gentle as he scooted onto the couch beside you. He leaned forward, placing his elbow on his knees to peer into the blanket, clasping his hands together. You turned your gaze to meet his only briefly, darting it away after just a few seconds of contact. You couldn’t look at him for too long, didn’t dare stare into his comforting eyes for fear of breaking right there. Your insecurity wasn’t his fault.

“Nothing, you wouldn’t get it,” you denied, turning your head away from him and staring at the wall instead. Kirishima frowned, scooting over a little bit closer to you and wrapping his arm across your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. The warmth radiating off of his body onto yours was comforting, as always, but his proximity at that moment was not helping as much as you had wanted it to.

“Is this about losing your job on Monday?” he mused, noticing the way you tensed up under him as soon as he mentioned it. “I know that position meant a lot to you. Are you worried that you’re not contributing enough or something, angel?”

You just sighed and shook your head, refusing to acknowledge him any further than that for now. Kirishima continued to ask a couple questions, trying to pry the information he was looking for out of you. He knew how stubborn you could get, how you’d refuse to admit anything was wrong until it was too late and your emotions boiled over. He didn’t want you to get to that point again, he had been so worried for you the last time it had happened. He was trying to get better at noticing when you were struggling, but he had been away so much this week with missions and patrols that he couldn’t gauge how close you were to falling apart.

“I can take care of you, Y/N.”

Those were the words that made you snap. You gripped the pillow in your lap and shoved it into Kirishima’s stomach, throwing the blanket off of you when you stood up off of the couch, whipping around to face him.

“I’m not some stupid civilian that needs saving, Eijirou!” you shouted angrily at him. Kirishima simply held the pillow against himself, staring up at you in surprise while you paced in front of him. “I don’t want you to take care of me like I’m some helpless housewife, okay? I want to take care of myself. I want to be like you!”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be like me in this world? To be without a quirk? You don’t know the unrelenting bullying I dealt with in school. You have no idea how many jobs I dreamt about wanting that I can’t have cause I don’t meet the quirk requirement. You don’t understand how I felt, waiting, praying that my quirk was going to show up one day; that I was just a late bloomer and eventually I’d get to be the hero I had always wanted to be. You will never understand the humiliation and ridicule I face in my life every single day. I’m not enough; how I am, how I exist is not enough to live peacefully in this world.

“You’re praised to high heaven because of your quirk while I’m just- just,” you paused, searching for the words to express precisely how you felt. “I’m worthless.”

You huffed, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, finally having said everything you needed to in that moment. Before Kirishima could say anything, you turned quickly on your heel, rushing up the stairs and heading towards your shared bedroom. The slam of the door behind you made Kirishima jump a bit. He sat there in silence for a while, processing, ruminating, trying desperately to understand what had just happened. He had never seen you so angry, so... Hurt. He sighed, tilting his head back to rest on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He really didn’t understand how you felt. He tried to imagine how he would be without his quirk, how it would feel to be in your shoes, but it always came up blank. He couldn’t think of what he would do besides being a hero; it was just so natural for him. He had never wanted to be anything else. And maybe, he thought, that was the problem.

Kirishima sighed again, shaking his head and tossing the pillow to the side, pulling himself off the couch and shuffling around the living room. He mindlessly found himself at the bottom of the stairs, his gaze climbing to the top landing and staring at your bedroom door. Without second thought, he went upstairs. He waited a bit longer at the door, not entirely sure if it was right for him to knock and be with you right then. Did you need more space? Did you want space to begin with? He took a deep breath in and made a decision.

Kirishima knocked quietly on the bedroom door, his gaze focused on the silver door handle.

“Go away…,” you muttered, just wanting to be left alone. And yet, you craved his presence, his comfort. You wanted his arms wrapped around you, whispering that everything would be okay, that you were his everything, that you were perfect to him.

Kirishima sighed, ignoring your dismissal and turning the doorknob to let himself in. His heart sank when he saw you curled up on the bed, back turned away from him so you faced the wall in the soft light of the setting sun. He didn’t say anything, just shuffled over to the bed and crawled in beside you. He scooted in behind you, pulling you over from your side of the bed to meet him in the middle, wrapping his arm across your stomach to keep you from pulling away. You lay there together in silence for what felt like an eternity, with only the ticking alarm clock on Kirishima’s bedside stand filling the quiet air.

“I’m sorry for being so insensitive earlier,” Kirishima began to say, speaking softly against your ear. It sent a small shiver up your spine, feeling his breath against your neck as he spoke. “I didn’t mean to make things worse. I promise to try and be more understanding of your situation, angel. But I promise, promise, you are more than enough. You are so intelligent, and so patient and compassionate. You’ve got no clue how many people you make smile when you walk into a room. I could go on and on and on about how amazing you are, angel.”

He nuzzled his nose into your shoulder, taking in a deep breath, enjoying the sweet smell of vanilla on your skin. His grip tightened around you, his knees curling underneath yours in an attempt to get even closer to you than he had been before.

“You are enough,” he repeated, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Repeat it to me, angel.”

You could feel your face growing flush, nervous knots tying together in your stomach. You didn’t want to repeat the words back. You felt you didn’t deserve to repeat them. But you would, for him.

“I…,” you began, voice quivering with uncertainty. “I’m enough.”

“Again,” he asked of you gently, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“I’m enough,” you repeated, this time with more determination in your voice. You could feel Kirishima smile against your skin.

“One more time. Third time’s the charm, y’know,” he joked with a slight chuckle. You couldn’t help but let a small smile slip across your lips.

“I’m enough,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, confirming to yourself the sincerity of your own words. Kirishima gave you a gentle squeeze. He shifted behind you, propping himself onto one arm and leaning around you to press a kiss to your cheek.

“That’s my girl,” he praised with a smile. Kirishima’s hand traced small, slow, comforting circles along your stomach with his fingers. You took in a deep breath, enjoying his proximity, his warmth, the feeling of his breathing against your back. You turned yourself back to face him, warmth gleaming in your eyes when you looked up at him. Kirishima met your gaze immediately, looking down at you with a proud smile. His hand trailed further over your hip, resting on your thigh. “Can I show you how much you mean to me?”

His hushed request made your cheeks burn and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You knew exactly what that question meant; and you were craving it. You were craving him. You didn’t say anything, just brought your hand up to pull him down into a sweet kiss. A quiet, satisfied hum left Kirishima’s lips while he kissed you. He never really was good with words; he found he somehow always messed something up when trying to say something sincere. He knew he’d be able to get his message across through his actions.

Kirishima pulled away from the kiss only briefly, giving himself enough time to shift backwards and roll you onto your back. He climbed overtop of you, his arms resting on either side of your head. He took a minute just to survey you, to watch your lips as they parted with a slight hush of air, to meet your eyes, still a bit irritated from the tears you shed. He smiled softly.

“You’re so perfect, angel,” he complimented you with a sweet whisper before leaning forward to resume kissing you. You leaned upwards into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, greedily drinking in his careful attention to you. It made you feel wanted, needed. Kirishima’s kisses were filled with warmth and comfort, speaking words to you he could never say out loud. His tongue trailed against your bottom lip, silently begging for permission to deepen his kiss.

You closed your eyes and allowed him the moment, leaning into him and pulling him closer. Your lips met in the most tender and passionate moment yet. Your hearts beat in sync, your breaths heavy with desire. He pulled you closer still, kissing deeply and softly, his tongue slowly exploring yours. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers curling into the red spikes, refusing to let him pull away as you basked in the moment, holding close to the person you loved most; to the person you felt safest with.

Kirishima hummed into the kiss, signalling to you to pull away for a minute. He didn’t waste any time when you eased your grip in his hair, leaning forward and leaving a trail of soft kissing along your neck. You could feel your face getting warmer with each kiss, starting at the underside of your jaw, crawling down your neck, flitting against your collarbone. Kirishima pulled aside a strap from the tank top you wore, continuing his mission, kissing along the curve of your breast until his lips captured your nipple. A soft moan escaped your lips as he tongued and toyed with you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, building in anticipation of what was to follow. Kirishima’s hand trailed down the side of your body, fingers following the curve of your waist, curling into the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them away, discarding them to the foot of the bed, leaving you partially exposed. He sat back a bit, mouth leaving your breast and his eyes met yours. He toyed with the edge of your tank top.

“Take this off for me, angel,” he commanded gently. “Let me see how beautiful you are under this shirt.”

You flushed bright red at his request, but obliged, sitting up slightly to pull your top off, discarding it to the floor. Kirishima hummed pleasantly, taking in every inch of you.

"My god..." Kirishima muttered, his eyes drinking you in. Your body was truly a work of art. His gaze trails up your frame, from your breasts to your shoulders and back down to your stomach. His hands swept against your sides, his whispering touch sending shivers down your spine. You leaned back to give him room to continue, your pussy dripping with anticipation at what was to come.

Kirishima wiggled back towards the edge of the bed, stationing himself between your legs. Gently, he pushed them apart, crouching forward and pressing kisses to your inner thigh, teeth catching skin with every other kiss. You squirm slightly, a soft groan encouraging Kirishima to continue. Instead of giving you what you so desperately craved, however, he moved to your other thigh, repeating the same ritual he began, kissing and nipping at your sensitive skin. You whined in protest.

“Eijirou, please,” you begged, making him chuckle. Finally, he relinquished your request, adjusting his position before pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit. You moaned when his tongue began to trace slow circles around it, heat pooling into your core and making you even wetter. Kirishima continued to tease, you running his tongue up your velvety slit, licking up any slick he could and relishing in the taste of you. You were perfect to him in every possible way. He leaned deeper into you, pushing his tongue into your pussy, running it along your walls, coaxing a louder moan from you, before turning his attention back to your swelling clit. Your hands gripped the sheets, toes curling as you got closer to your release. Your back arched, alerting Kirishima to the proximity of your orgasm, and he immediately pulled away. You groaned, whining and squirming with want, annoyed at him for denying you when you were so close.

“I want to get you built up a bit more, angel,” Kirishima began, hands trailing up your legs. “You just look so gorgeous when you cum for me. I want to make sure I can see it. I want to see you writhing for me, begging for me. I need to see you enjoying my touch.”

Kirishima leaned forward, his right hand moving back down towards your leaking pussy, coating his fingers in your slick. He slowly ran it up and down your slit, briefly rubbing circles along your clit.

“Look at me,” he whispered, watching to catch your gaze. As soon as your eyes met, Kirishima slowly pushed two fingers into your pussy. He watched as your lips parted, watched as your chest heaved with sweet gasp, and enjoyed the satisfied moan that followed. He gave you a minute to adjust to him before moving his fingers inside of you, curling them in just the right way so that they hit your g-spot with every stroke.

“Eijirou,” you whimpered. Kirishima leaned forward, pressing kisses against your neck as he continued to fingerfuck you, increasing his pace.

“I make you feel good, don’t I, angel?” he mused, trailing kisses along the column of your neck until he got to your ear. He nibbled gently at the lobe. “It feels good when I fuck you like this doesn’t it?”

You nodded your head, agreeing wholeheartedly. It felt good, so good. You wished it would never stop. You wished to feel the heat of his touch, to feel the whisper of his breath as he spoke in your ear, to feel his comfort, for as long as you possibly could.

“My pretty girl…” Kirishima continued, his thumb finding its way to your clit while his fingers continued to pump inside of you. He could feel you getting closer; he could feel how you tightened against his fingers, enjoyed the sounds of your breathing getting heavier, your moans getting louder. He leaned up, watching your brows furrow in pleasure. “Is my pretty girl ready to cum for me?”

You huffed, an amused chuckle leaving your lips as you turned your gaze to meet his.

“I’ve been ready,” you whined through a moan. “Please, please can I cum? Please, I want to cum for you, Eijirou.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, signalling his permission. In a matter of seconds, you were cumming against his fingers, legs shaking, tears pricking in your eyes with the intensity of the pleasure you felt. He slowed the pace of his fingers, letting you enjoy the feeling of him for just a while longer as you finished your release.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, kissing your temple as you rode out your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out of your sopping cunt, making you whine. You missed him already. “Don’t worry, angel, I’m not going far.”

Kirishima lifted his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a smirk as he pushed himself off the bed. He quickly discarded his shirt, pants following suit. You watched as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off of his hips. You followed his fingers, watching as his cock sprang free from its containment, precum already dripping from the tip. A dark stain flushed your cheeks bright red. Kirishima went to rummage for a condom in his bedside drawer, but you rolled over to take his hand, stopping him. He looked over at you, a bit surprised.

“You don’t want one?” he asked, making sure. You shook your head.

“I need all of you, Eijirou, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got your hint. Kirishima’s gaze hazed over with lust. He slammed the drawer back shut and shooed you back further on the bed to give him some more space.

“Lay back, angel,” he directed you and you obliged, resting your head on the pillows in the middle of the bed and spreading your legs for Kirishima. He took in a deep shaky breath, practically vibrating in anticipation. He had been waiting for this all week; in between your job loss and his job demands, there hadn’t been time to properly connect. He couldn't wait to ravish you.

Kirishima ran his cock up and down your slit, lubricating it with your slick before he maneuvered your legs over onto his shoulders, crossing your ankles around his neck. He lined himself up at your entrance, holding your legs steady with his other hand. He looked down at you, pausing just briefly to meet your gaze. Finally, he slid his cock into your entrance, a shaky groan leaving his lips as he pushed deeper inside of you. The warmth of your pussy alone was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he greedily wanted to make you cum for him again. He could hold on, but he needed to make it so you couldn’t anymore.

Kirishima began rocking his hips, keeping a slower pace, moaning at how tight your wet cunt was. You moaned along with him, eyes rolling back at the pleasant stretch of his thick cock in your pussy. He fit so perfectly inside you, fucked you so wonderfully. He kept an even pace, fucking into you so deeply the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every other thrust, making you wraith beneath him and edge closer to release with every movement. His pace quickened, making you moan louder.

“Come on, angel, I know you want to cum,” he teased you, giving your ass a quick slap. “I know how good I make you feel. I know how much you want me to cum inside your cute little pussy. You want that, don’t you?”

You whined at that, nodding your head feverishly, getting closer and closer to release with each and every one of his words. You gazed up at him, watching as his lips curled into a pleased smirk.

“Good girls cum, don’t they?” he continued to muse. “You're gonna be a good girl for me, right, angel? You’re gonna cum all over my cock? Go ahead, sweetheart, cum for me.”

With those words, you found your release, gripping at the sheets, legs tightening around Kirishima’s neck, the walls of your cunt clenching on his cock. Kirishima groaned, enjoying the intense rush he felt while you milked his cock. He listened to your continued moans, thrusting faster, until finally he reached his own release. He thrust into you twice more, punctuating each twitch of his cock as he came inside of you. Finally, he stilled, matching your laboured breathing as he brought himself out of the adrenaline high. He chuckled breathlessly, his hand gently tapping your leg, wordlessly asking for you to loosen your grip around his neck. You obliged, removing your legs from his shoulders and resting them back onto the bed. Kirishima leaned forward, crawling on top of you for a passionate kiss. You reached up as he pulled back, wrapping your arms across his neck and your legs around his hips to hold him close. You didn’t want to let him go just yet. Kirishima took the hint and snaked his arm around your back, holding you close while he turned the pair of you over so he could lay down for a minute and catch his breath.

With you on top, and his cock still deep inside of you, Kirishima took in a deep breath, exhaling heavily as he got used to the new position. You squirmed around a bit in an attempt to get more comfortable, which only caused the both of you to shudder from the sensitivity the movement caused. You giggled a bit, finally settling down and resting your head on his shoulder, burying your nose into his neck and taking in a deep breath. You loved the way he smelled after sex, a sharp musk mixing together with his sweat. Kirishima’s hand trailed slow circles on your back, just enjoying your proximity as you both recovered.

“Are you feeling a little bit better?” he asked. You hummed pleasantly. You did, in fact, feel a little bit better. Still not completely healed from the events of the week, but better than you had been.

“I’m sorry for blowing up at you earlier…” you mumbled into his neck, wanting to say more, but Kirishima just gently shushed you.

“It’s okay, angel. I know I won’t ever totally understand your experience, but please be open with me about it when you’re struggling, okay?” he replied. You nodded a bit, feeling a bit ashamed at your reaction. The pair of you lay there in silence for a bit longer, just enjoying each other’s company. The sound of Kirishima’s heartbeat was incredibly comforting to you. Kirishima was the one to finally break the silence.

“How about a movie and some takeout? You can choose what we watch,” he suggested, combing his fingers through your hair. You smiled.

“I’d like that,” you agreed. Kirishima grinned and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You sounded more relaxed now, and happier too. He knew there would be times where your insecurity got the best of you in the future, too, but that was a bridge the two of you could cross when it arrived; hopefully, with more understanding the next time it happened.

“Good. And what did we learn today?” he asked, gazing down at you. You giggled a bit, feeling more sure about what you were about to say than you ever had before.

“I am enough.”

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theladyofbloodshed · 9 months

Text

You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter 4

This Nesta POV chapter comes from a tiny portion in ACOMAF that I am running wild with

And they had wanted the exact geographical location of the house. The layout and size of each room. Where the furniture was. Where the windows and doors were. What room, likely, we would greet them in. Azriel had provided it all, with my sisters’ help.

The face staring back at her in the looking glass was sallow and unwell. Shadows had taken up residence beneath her eyes and her thin face had only become worse in the last couple of weeks. It was an effort to eat anything at all. At any moment, Nesta expected the door to be broken down like the Spring High Lord had done.

After many days of tedious waiting that only knotted her stomach further, a letter finally arrived from the mortal queens. The meeting would take place at eleven in the morning in two days’ time. They demanded to know the exact geographical location, the layout and size of each room, the positioning of the furniture, the location of windows and doors, where they would likely be received. It felt more like a military interrogation – one she wasn’t prepared to respond to alone.

With no knowledge of how to contact her sister, Nesta had waited until the staff had left for the night before placing the letter on the front step. If a guard was here, she had never seen them, but sometimes she thought she saw shoeprints in the soil near the house as if somebody had been treading lightly. Sometimes, at night when she could not sleep, she thought she could make out the faint rustle of wings in the distance.

If the queens arrived in a few days and her sister did not, Nesta was not entirely sure what they would do. As best she could, she would relay Feyre’s words, but she had never been one to rouse morale.

A soft knock sounded at the door then Elain entered.

‘You did not sleep at all.’

She had been surviving on broken shards of sleep that her body took for itself whenever it could. Nesta turned back to her reflection and smeared her thumbs beneath her eyes.

‘Do I look so terrible?’

Elain joined her on the rectangular stool and touched her cheek. ‘Nobody could ever accuse you of that, Nesta.’

I’m scared. I don’t know what to do to keep us safe. I wish none of this was happening. I hate father for leaving us.

‘If you would prefer, we could organise for you to go into the village when the queens come. A letter could be sent to Graysen and Mrs. Laurent can chaperone. He would be glad to spend time with you, I’m sure.’

Elain smiled, her beauty showing no signs of diluting with worries. ‘I want to be here.’

If Nesta wanted her to grow, she had to let her do these things even if she wanted Elain far from faeries and their quarrels.

Nesta dressed quickly in a pale blue gown. Despite the tremor in her hands, her hair was braided and pulled tight into her favoured coronet. She dabbed perfume onto her neck and wrists. It was important to look as though she could take on anything even if it felt as though a fist was clenched around her trembling heart.

The unmistakable sound of a knock sounded on the window of the parlour where she sat tinkering with the pianoforte. Her fingers stilled on the keys. She held her breath, hoping it was the wind that had tricked her although the day was beautiful with no wind to be found. Elain was deep in the garden somewhere tending to the weeds that were proving impervious to her attempts at destruction. Her finger grazed over another ivory key when the sound came again, harder this time. A definite tap-tap on the glass.

Reluctantly, Nesta raised her eyes to the window. The quiet Illyrian held the letter in his hands and inclined his head towards the front of the house.

Out of the two, Nesta wasn’t sure which one she’d prefer to deal with. The large one, Cassian, had proved to be arrogant and uncouth when he delivered the letter, but this one had an intensity that scared Nesta. Being alone with any man was not appropriate. She risked her standing to have either one of them in close proximity.

She swept through the house, pausing when she reached the elderly cook who was rummaging through the pantry. ‘I feel a little under the weather still. I will take a rest in the lounge. Please ensure that nobody disturbs me.’

The cook’s face fell in concern. ‘Shall I prepare a tea for you, Lady Nesta? You have eaten little for days.’

‘No. None of that is necessary.’

Nesta tried to turn on her heels, but the cook continued, ‘Should I fetch Elain?’

It was difficult not to lose her temper when the poor lady meant well, but Nesta’s tether was fraying quickly. ‘I need nobody.’

With the cook’s eyes burning into her spine, Nesta could hardly continue down the corridor and open the front door to welcome in a faerie. She retreated back to the lounge, locked the door, then propped open the windows. It sent the sparrows spiralling towards the hedge. Nesta could not see the faerie in the grounds. She leaned forwards until practically her entire top-half was hanging out into the garden. Then he appeared directly in front of her, making her jump back.

‘I must enter through the window?’

‘Through the window or not at all. You came here unannounced. You cannot expect me to banish my staff yet again for your convenience.’

He surveyed the window frame then grimaced. ‘My wings may be an issue.’

Gingerly, he cocked a leg up and over the windowsill then stooped low to try and pass his wings through. The sharp talon on top of the left wing scratched the paint of the frame, but Nesta did her best not to flare her nostrils. Her anger was likely a trifling thing compared to a warrior of five centuries. He bent as low as he could to the windowsill in an attempt to bring the second wing through but it snagged on the clasp. He leaned forwards a handful of times trying to free himself to no avail. All it did was make the window shake and he could not reach around his wing to remove it.

The noise would rouse attention.

Nesta leaned towards him, ignoring the scent of night-chilled mist and cedar on his skin, and settled her hand upon his wing. The frame was bonier than she was expecting it to be – and far less flexible. She pushed down gently, fingers grazing against the membrane as she eased it through the frame. She wondered how it would feel to touch the tendons running through it. The sun filtered through the wing, casting it almost in a reddish hue. They were strange. Not entirely in a bad way, but strange nonetheless.

When Nesta turned back to Azriel – that was his name, wasn’t it? – he had a hand covering his heart. A wedge of sunlight beamed across that face carved from marble; his hazel eyes were ringed with brown and flecked with green. His lips were pursed, not with annoyance but something unreadable.

‘Please, sit.’

He exhaled slowly, hand still pressed against his heart. She wasn’t sure if he had heard her despite the closeness of their bodies. Too close. Far too close to be polite, but she had just moved to help without considering it. Remembering herself, Nesta took a step back. Still, he watched her with that intimidating intensity.

‘Azriel.’

Nesta said his name softly to prompt him into action. It was a beautiful name. One that fit with his great, magnificent wings.

‘Nesta,’ he breathed.

‘Sit,’ she repeated.

As if an enchantment had been lifted, the man blinked his eyes back into focus. His wings shuddered as he exhaled.

‘I do not know how long we have until a nosy member of the household rattles at the handle so we-’

‘I can shield us.’

Her brows drew downwards. Shield? As in hold a shield aloft for the entirety of their discussion?

Azriel added, ‘If you permit it.’

At her hesitation, he stepped near the pianoforte tucked into the corner of the room then both he and the instrument disappeared from her view, as if they had never been there at all.

‘The magic from my siphon,’ he gestured to the large, blue gem on his chest, ‘allows me to shield.’

‘Oh. Nobody will know you are here?’

‘Only you,’ he replied with an elegant dip of his head.

Although logic argued with her that it was woefully irresponsible to trap herself inside a magic shield with a man she hardly knew – a man who was far older, far more powerful, and far more dangerous – Nesta agreed to it. To put a little distance between them, she waited until Azriel took a seat which took a long time as he seemed to be waiting for her to do the same. At least he had manners.

Nesta was not one for small talk. Minimal contact with these faeries was for the best lest they be accused of sympathising with a cause like the Children of the Blessed. It was better for everybody if their business was handled swiftly. Still, it did not stop her from asking, ‘Feyre?’

‘Well. Happy.’

They reached another strange standstill. Nesta wasn’t sure if he was waiting for her to take the lead or not. The shadows that flocked around him seemed to be peering at her from over the top of his wings.

‘Do you do that with your siphon?’ She tapped two fingers over her chest to ensure he understood her then gestured to the shadow grazing against his jaw.

He swatted it away. ‘No. I am shadow singer. There are few in this world like me.’

From the classic beauty to the obsidian ink on his muscled arms, she did not doubt that.

‘Will you talk me through the lay out of the house, Nesta?’

Oh. She liked the way he said her name. It resided on his tongue as if it belonged there.

As best she could, Nesta explained the history of the manor. The previous owners had kept it in their family for many generations so there had been little work done. He made meticulous notes as they spoke, but often Nesta would feel his gaze caressing her face. Azriel was very different from the other one who had visited a few days earlier. He was reserved, using as few words as possible, preferring to let her prattle on about the furniture that Father had ordered from the Continent. Indeed, this one was different from any man she had ever met because she was used to men who dominated the conversation leaving no room for her. Despite what he was, Nesta felt at ease around him. He had a deep drawl to his quiet voice that seemed to lure Nesta in, so she had to remind herself to stop leaning towards him.

‘If you’re comfortable, would you be able to walk around the house a little so I can commit it to memory while I follow. Nobody will see me,’ he reassured her.

‘The siphon.’

A hesitant smile curled in one corner of his mouth as if he wasn’t used to it. ‘The siphon,’ he repeated.

When Nesta had conjured a suitable reason to be sweeping through the house, they departed. Although there was no sign of Azriel, she could sense him there like a phantom presence that was just out of reach. If any of the staff wondered what she was doing, the lie would be that she had misplaced a book. Thankfully, none but the cook stopped her and that was only to ask if she felt better.

They returned to the lounge, a randomly selected book from the shelf stowed in her arms. Azriel materialised from thin air in the same seat had been in before. Hazel eyes tracked her movements as she returned to her own seat.

‘Have you been unwell?’

On instinct, her fingers flexed, ready to push against the constant ache in her chest only to find that it wasn’t there. Nesta stilled her hand. She hadn’t noticed that it wasn’t there until now.

‘No.’

The heat of his gaze seared against her skin, reading the lie too easily.

‘A little worried,’ she conceded.

How had he made her give up the lie so readily? Nesta never gave ground like this. She held firm, digging her heels in even when she knew she should give up.

‘I will do anything I can to keep you safe.’ He blinked rapidly, shaking his black hair from his face, then amended, ‘We will. For you and Elain. I must return.’

She stood with him, ready to see him out. When Azriel moved towards the window again, Nesta gestured to the door.

‘I will seek my sister amongst the roses. You may follow me into the garden to depart that way.’

Her fingertips held the head of the cold, metal key as she began to turn it in the lock.

Unannounced, Azriel asked, ‘Do you play?’

His eyes flickered towards the pianoforte.

Their bodies were too close. The curve of his wing shielded her and only a whisker stopped it from touching her shoulder.

‘Poorly,’ she admitted.

‘I do not think you do anything unless it exceeds expectations.’

Why couldn’t she move? Her hand was poised to wrench open the handle to expel him from her home; her body was waiting for the signal to move. But she could not. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Once more, she took in his image. Until the stars winked out, Nesta might have remained there, but then a cold shadow snaked over her cheek. Azriel’s eyes widened in alarm as the shadow returned to him.

It broke the spell on Nesta.

‘They’ve never done that before.’

She wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or himself, but Nesta had pulled the door open anyway and marched over the polished floorboards. The skirts of her dress caught between her legs from the pace though she continued on until her feet met soft, spongy grass.

Nesta did not look round. She didn’t need to. She knew the moment he had departed.

#nezriel

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 3 months

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My Guardian Angel ~Broken!Rita Calhoun xFem Younger!Investigator!Reader (Liz Donnelly x Alex Cabot) feat. Rafael Barba & Olivia Benson

Summary— AU where Rita has an abusive husband, and one night, after he storms out, Rita calls Reader. Reader brings Rita to the person who helped her with her own haunted past, Elizabeth Donnelly. Alex, Barba, and Liv makes appearances. What does the night have in store for Rita and Reader…?

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, a little fluff, dead dove: do not eat, implied abuse, implied sexual assault, implied abusive husband, comforting, crying, alcohol consumption, anxiety attacks, a little self destructive behavior, mentions to prostitution, SVU things, Elizabeth Donnelly, Alex Cabot, Rafael Barba, Olivia Benson, Liz and Alex are a bit of a power couple, gray ending, etc.

Enjoy (;

You didn’t know Rita Calhoun well. At least not originally. From the moment you did meet, you both couldn’t deny the connection between the two of you. You had always lived in coinciding worlds, she was a New York defense attorney, and you were an investigator for 1PP, occasionally lended out to SVU.

Originally, she was the lawyer whom you had hired for your idiot of a brother when he had been caught and charged with soliciting a prostitute. You had met with the high class woman on a couple of occasions, to discuss your brothers bail, probation, trial, payment, and anything else pertaining to his case.

You saw yourself intrigued by her elegant manner, high end fashion, and confidence. Soon you saw yourself get hooked to the tiny smiles and chuckles you managed to pull from her when in private. You found yourself fighting to make the woman laugh as much as you could, her laugh always seemed to make your day. And during the trial, your eyes were on her the entire time. You lived off those days outfits that Rita would strut into court in.

So when you checked your phone late Friday night, the last thing you expected to see what a very many handfuls of missed calls from Rita Calhoun. You saw that she had left a voicemail in the last call, so you pressed play.

“Heyyyy Y/N… S-sorry to be bothering you so I know it’s^^late… I… I just… I don’t know what to do, call me back k bye”

It was Rita alright, but something was very wrong. She had been stammering and hiccuping throughout the entire voicemail, and had broken into sobs by the end. She sounded like she’d been crying and drinking for far too long… Her sounds triggered memories of your own life, memories that you had gone to great lengths to bury.

You immediately called the woman back. The dial rang for a couple tones, then it shut off. You hit call again. The second time, she picked up. You heard a sniffle and then a choke sob.

“H-hey…” she practically whispered.

“Rita, Hi, is everything alright?”

“I…” She stammered, before the call went silent.

“Rita?” You asked, your concern growing.

“N-no” She whispered, then letting out another choked sob.

You took a deep breath and your instincts kicked in once more. You got Rita to give you her address and told her that you would be over as soon as possible. That night you broke the made the most traffic violations in your entire life.

You entered the house, the front door having been unlocked which was mildly concerning to you. You walked through the lavish, lofty apartment, until you found Rita curled up facing away from you in the living room on the floor with a full bottle of wine in her hand. Your heart sank and a lump came into your throat. You hated how normal and used to this sight you were. Because not too long ago, this had been you…

You dropped to the floor, immediately going to comfort the woman. You carefully removed the alcohol, setting it aside. Rita let out a choke sob, immediately curling up into your lap. As she turned to face you, you saw the massive black eye that she had. Your eyes scanned her entire body, finding more red, raw skin marks along her arms and some blue bruising on her neck. Your heart nearly broke as Rita sobbed into your lap.

“I—im s-sorry… I didn’t-didn’t know who t-to call…! It’s it’s stupid, nothing really—” Rita choked out, muffled as she cried into your chest.

You knew this behavior. You knew it all too well.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. I’m here Rita… It’s all going to be okay. Can I touch you, honey…? Would that be alright…?” You very gently asked the woman, coming a little closer to her, trying to show that you were no threat.

Rita nodded as her cries were muffled by her face being in the crook of your neck. She clung onto you like her life depended on it.

“Ok, good… you are doing so good for me, Rita. Take some deep breaths for me? Can you try to do that?” You comforted the woman, bringing your hands around to hold the woman in your lap.

You could hear Rita trying to take some deep breaths as she nodded, although her hiccups made it more difficult.

“Good, very good, Rita.” You praised, then bringing your hands to cup the woman’s cheeks and direct her scattered gaze to you.

“Now Rita this is important… I need you to come back to me and think, okay?”

A slow nod.

“Is he going to come back anytime soon…?” You softly asked.

Rita’s eyes widened and she began to panic at your question. Your hold on the woman only tightened and you insisted on her answer.

“I know you don’t want to think about it, but I need to know if you’re safe staying here Rita.” You explained firmly yet lovingly.

Rita took some more deep breaths before stammering,

“I… he he’s gone out… drinking…” she gulped, “Be back late…”

Her eyes were red and glossy, and they only panicked more at the idea of her husband returning. You rubbed her back and caressed her check in comfort.

“Ok. We need to get you to a hospital, Rita…” you gently said, knowing the possible outlast that your words might cause.

Rita practically jumped out of your lap and was quick to stand up and start pacing in the living room. Her fingers were red and raw and fidgeting. Her gaze scattered everywhere. You slowly stood up and tried to corner the woman into your embrace.

“No no no hospitals… hospitals means cops and that means court and no no—” Rita rambled, her thoughts spiraling more and more.

You grabbed the woman’s hands, clasping them in your own to ground the woman. Her sobbing gaze finally met yours once more.

“Okay. That’s okay. Rita, listen to me, is there anywhere you can go to stay for the time being…?” You softly asked.

Rita’s lip began to tremble and her knees buckled, her body falling into yours. Luckily, you managed to gently catch and carry the weight of the woman while she regained partial strength.

“N-not RAF—Rafael… he can’t know, no no no one…” Rita choked out in gasps.

When she wasn’t able to come up with any other options, your mind went to the person who had helped you.

“Okay okay, that’s okay, Rita. How about Elizabeth? You know Judge Donnelly? She’s a close friend and I know she can help…” you spoke with understanding and reassurance.

Rita looked up to you from collapsing in your arms and nodded slowly. But her eyes told you that she had sunken too far into her thoughts, that you would have to start making the decisions in her best interest until she came back to you.

You gently placed Rita back on the couch, quickly going to the kitchen to grab her a water, while you then ran around the place, trying to pack her a weekend back. After about 15 minutes, you had the bag in hand and you were leading the woman out of the house and into a cab. The entire cab ride, Rita was snuffling and silently sobbing in your shoulder.

Once you reached Liz’s brownstone, you violently knocked on the door, Rita protected being you and holding your hand. The door flew open but it wasn’t Liz, it was a blonde. Your eyes went wide and you gulped, suddenly regretting not having double checked with Liz beforehand.

“You’re Y/N, right…? I’m Alex.” The tall blonde spoke slowly yet confidently.

“Yes, um is Liz home?” You said, quickly getting to the point while trying to hide Rita behind you to the best of your ability.

But Liz had told you about Alex, she was sharp, didn’t miss a thing.

“Yea, she’s in the kitchen… Is that Calhoun…?” Alex hummed, leaning against the doorway.

You took a deep breath and brought Rita to stand next to you. Alex’s jaw dropped and she took a step back in shock.

“I just… we needed a safe place to go for the night and Liz always said her door was always open and I’m sorry if we intruded, I just can’t handle this, I mean I know Liz can handle it, and so I thought—” you rambled.

Before you could say another word, the blonde was pulling you and Rita into the brownstone, closing the door behind her and marching straight up to Liz in the kitchen.

“Is that our take-out, bunny…?” Liz hummed, while sipping some wine before her gaze met yours and then Rita’s disheveled state.

“Oh my god.” Liz immediately put her glass doing and rushed over to Rita, her hands wandering all over the woman, her gaze scouring the woman’s injuries, “Rita, Darling, what happened…??”

Rita’s lip trembled before more violent sobs came out. No coherent words were possible for the woman at this point, all she could do was embrace Liz and sob into her chest. Liz happily consoled the poor woman before her gaze meet yours along with the go bag.

“I’m sorry…” you mouthed, referring to breaking up her and Alex’s obvious night together.

“Hush now, you did the right thing, take Rita’s things to the first bedroom on the second floor.” Liz told you, waving off your unneeded apology.

You immediately nodded and went to go up the stairs. Then Luz turned to Alex.

“Go run a bath, warm not too hot.” Liz spoke firmly.

Alex was off to the master bathroom after a quick nod. When you both returned, you found Rita clung around Liz like a Koala, clinging on for dear life and continuing to sob in her chest. The sight brought flashbacks of the night you had stumbled up on Liz’s doorstep, in an eerily same condition as Rita…

Liz soothed Rita while guiding her to the master bathroom. The older blonde sent you a comforting gaze with a nod, telling you that she had it. You placed a hand on your heart and took a shattered breath, nodding slowly.

It was then that you noticed Alex coming up beside you. You turned your head to her slightly.

“I… I just didn’t know where else to go… I’m sorry if I ruined your night…” you breathed out.

Alex brought a hand to your shoulder and reassuringly squeezed your skin lightly. Her eyes twinkled with sympathy and care.

“Hey, it’s okay. You made the right call. And hey, I’m glad to finally meet you.” Alex sighed, “Can I get you anything…?”

You nodded and then sighed yourself.

“Tea maybe…? Or fuck some scotch now that I think about it…”

A deep chuckle reverberated throughout Alex’s chest as she nodded in agreement, going to the kitchen and pulling a bottle out of the liquor cabinet. She poured two glasses and handed you one of them.

“Thanks” you muttered.

Alex hummed an of course in response, before going to sit down in the classy living room. You sat across from her, sipping your scotch lightly. The blonde looked you dead in the eye, as she sighed.

“Liz told me a bit about you and that night.”

You gulped and struggled to maintain the intense eye contact. You knew that Liz and Alex were close, really close, however it still was hard to reconcile another person knowing something so vulnerable about you. But if Liz trusted Alex with it, so did you.

“Yea… I was and am still so grateful to Lizzie for all that she did for me…” you confessed.

“Lizzie…?” Alex chuckled dryly with a cock of an eyebrow.

“Yea…” you breathily chuckled, “Her and my dad worked together…”

Alex smiled lightly in understanding, nodding along, waving her hand in the air and prompting you to continue, knowing from what Liz had said that that wasn’t the whole story.

“Yeah they were colleagues, and so I saw Lizzie at events and she’d been at my childhood home a couple times… I’d always been pretty independent, both my parents working all the time, and me being the oldest led to me getting used to being on my own. And then my parents divorced, and I got even more alone…” you sighed.

Another wave of sympathy washed over Alex’s face, as she sipped her scotch and listened intently.

“I’m sorry. I definitely know the pains of divorced parents…” Alex sighed.

You smiled lightly and nodded, before continuing you tawdry tale,

“Anyways, Lizzie was one of the only people who reached out to me, to y’know check on me and stuff. She’s always been in my corner, and she’s practically filled the role of a mother ever since the divorce…” you spoke out softly.

You could tell that Alex knew most of this, and that she was waiting for the part about how this all connected to Rita, so you cut to the chase.

“Anyways, about two years ago, I meet and started to see this guy… Looking back, he was a lot like my father, and I should have recognized the warning signs earlier… But I didn’t. And I let it go on for an entire year… Until…” you sucked in a breath, “I wound up on Lizzie’s doorstep, heart broken and bruised…”

You saw Alex’s audible gulp at your last sentence. You saw how her hand tightly clutched her glass, her knuckles almost white. With a deep breath, she nodded and prompted you to continue with her hand once more.

“Anywho, Lizzie helped me get my shit together and throw him out of my place and my life. I’d taken his abuse for a whole year, and I’m still recovering to this day from the number he did on me…” You concluded your story.

Alex then stood up and came to sit next to you on the couch you inhabited. Her hand came to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly.

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of that…” Alex sighed, “I hear you, recovery takes time.”

You took a breathy, deep breath with a shaky nod, all the memories of your past coming up as you talked about it all. But her touch was soothing. It was then that Liz emerged from the hallway and came into the living room with a sigh. The older woman sat down next to you, a hand running up and down your thigh in reassurance.

“She’s okay, Rita is going to be fine.” Liz hummed, before stealing your glass of scotch and sipping away at it.

You didn’t mind the cheeky gesture, lord knows she needed the relaxation, merely humming and nodding in response.

“She’s in the bath, and she’s asking for you…” Liz spoke once more.

You sucked in a breath and nodded, starting to stand up. As you went to leave and find Rita in the master bath, you turned back towards Liz and Alex, who were now snuggling lovingly on the couch.

“Thank you Lizzie… Really, thank you.” You breathed out shakily.

Liz met your gaze, her eyes filled with love and care, and the older woman nodded.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

You nodded lightly with a small smile, before turning around and making your way to find Rita. By the time you reached the bath, you found Rita passed out in the warm water, snoring lightly and peacefully. You noted how graceful and content Rita looked asleep. Coming up to the tub, you sat down next to the rim, and proceeded to tuck a stray hair behind Rita’s ear.

She must be exhausted… you thought. And your suspicions were confirmed as the woman continued to sleep until the water in the tub threatened to go cold. It was then that you gently nudged the brunette out from her slumber. She snorted lightly as her eyes fluttered open. Her gaze still looked shattered and sad, and her lip was still lightly trembling.

“Fuck I’m mm sorry, I must have fallen asleep—” Rita rambled in a quiet mumble.

“Hush, none of that. It’s completely alright…” you comforted the woman, raising your hand for her to stop.

Rita shut her mouth and blushed a little, then shivering in the now cold bath water.

“Thanks…” she whispered.

“Of course. Now let’s get you out and into something warm…” you hummed, grabbing a fluffy towel from the bathroom cabinet and then reaching your hand out towards Rita.

Rita happily took your hand, then climbing out of the tub, then you proceeded to wrap the woman up in the warm towel.

“M-my clothes…” Rita murmured, looking to the ground as fear lurched in the pit of her stomache at the idea of having to wear her bloodied clothing.

You gently rubbed her towel wrapped shoulders with a light smile.

“I grabbed some things before we left your place, the bag is on the toilet. It will have to do for now, until we figure out what to do…” you cooed caringly.

Rita blushed lightly and muttered a thank you. You told her it’s was the least that you could do, before giving her a kiss on the forehead and leaving her in the bathroom to go through the bag and change.

As you exited the room and walked back into the living room, you found Liz and Alex right where you had left them, with Alex curled up in Liz’s arms. Liz’s head popped up from her gaze on Alex back to you as you came into the living room and took a seat on an opposing couch, with a pondering look on your face.

“I know that look…” Liz hummed cheekily, taking another sip of your scotch, “What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

You bit your lip, pulling out your phone, before looking over to Liz.

“I was thinking about maybe calling Barba…” you mused aloud, your mind questioning on what to do next.

At this, Alex perked up to. Liz’s eyes widened and her expression was a knowing one, one that quickly understood your line of thought.

“I see… What did Rita say?” Liz hummed, placing the scotch back on the table and much to Alex’s delight starting to massage the young blonde’s shoulders.

You looked away from Liz at her words, and back to your phone.

“When I asked where she could go, she said not Rafael… I know that their friends, she’s mentioned him before… But he could help…” you sighed, inwardly conflicted.

Liz sighed at your admission. And she seemed to be in deep thought for a moment before she spoke,

“When you came to me, did I call anyone…?” The older woman asked you.

You bit your lip and sighed.

“No…”

“Exactly. Even though I wanted to… Probably would have called Liv, but I didn’t. Because you didn’t want me to.” Liz spoke,

You once again looked to the ground instead of meeting the older woman’s gaze.

“I’m not saying that Barba is a bad idea…” she slowly explained, “I think that it would be best if we ask Rita first.”

“Ask me what?” Rita’s timid voice echoed through the expansive living room and kitchen.

All three of your heads swiveled with extreme speed to the end of the hallway where the brunette stood. She padded her way through part of the kitchen and then into the living room. You immediately scooted over and lightly waved her over to come and sit. Rita did exactly that before repeating her question, more vocal this time.

“What did you want to ask me first?” The woman spoke.

Liz and Alex immediately eyed you, quirking their eyebrows and very clearly telling you that since this was your idea, you were the one who was going to say something. You gulped, turning your body more towards the group. Your gaze met Rita’s and you reached your hands out to grasp her left available hand and reassuringly squeeze it.

“I… We were talking about maybe calling Liv… or Barba…” you shakily breathed out, squeezing her hand lovingly while speaking to comfort the woman.

The same panic from earlier this night came rushing back to the woman’s gaze. But she was a little more collected now, and she seemed to handle the surge of emotions better this time around.

“I…” Rita stammered, “I don’t know…”

She slumped forward a bit and closed her eyes, a singular tear escaping her eyes. You immediately extended your arm and brought the brunette into your soft embrace.

“That’s okay. We can deal with all that later… How are you feeling…?” You gently spoke.

“Exhausted…” Rita choked out, “and stupid… like it’s all my fault…!”

The broken defense lawyer turned completely towards you, clinging to your frame as she began to cry into your shoulder. You gently caressed her back and shoulders reassuringly.

“That’s it, it’s going to be ok, Rita… It’s all going to be okay…” you soothed the woman.

“B-but how do you know that…?”

You sighed.

“Because… I’ve been through something eerily similar…”

At this, Rita pulled back and looked at you with eyes full of empathy.

“I’m so sorry…” she uttered, fully processing the words you had just spoken.

You smiled lightly and cupped Rita’s face.

“It’s okay… I’m past that now. Now I’m here for you… Now how about bed…?” You hummed caringly.

Rita nodded and hummed a soft thank you, before you guided the woman up and to one of Liz’s many guest bedrooms. You stayed with her until she was asleep, which didn’t take too long, but you stayed nonetheless, before then turning in for the night yourself in another guest room, which Liz had so kindly offered you.

Rita spent the rest of the weekend at Liz’s. Liz and Alex were more than happy to host, and they graciously let you stay as well to keep an eye on the broken brunette.

Then come Monday morning, you were walking into the SVU squad room with Rita anxiously by your side. You grabbed her shaky hand and squeezed it reassuringly, as your other hand rapped on Captain Liv Benson’s office door. Neither of you expected Barba to swing the door open, and he sure as hell didn’t expect to see Rita.

Liv ushered you in, and Rafael could immediately sense something was wrong. Rafael simply closed the door behind you, not bothering to leave.

“Rita, Y/N, how can I help you?” Liv spoke.

Rita shuffled her feet and looked to the ground. You squeezed her hand again and whispered that it was going to be okay.

“Wait what is going on��?” Rafael cut in.

Liv sent Barba a warning glance for him to be quiet to let you or Rita speak. You gently looked towards the brunette, whose lip was now trembling.

“I… I was raped…” Rita shakily breathed out, as a small tear rolled down her left cheek.

~~~

Part 2 with a happy ending…? Or maybe something more angsty…? 😏

Alex Cabot Masterlist

Olivia Benson Masterlist

Rita Calhoun Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

Elizabeth Donnelly Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

Rafael Barba Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

51 notes · View notes

panickedpenguin · 7 months

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@shieldofiron gifted us with a list of soulmate ideas, here is my expansion on one.

Soulmates are rare but have matching fingerprints. Doctors obtain fingerprints at one year of age, where they are government regulated and cross-checked between countries. If a print match is found, the parents will be notified. No further information is revealed until the younger match is eighteen. In the event you have a soulmate who is a criminal, you are monitored by the government for public safety.

Steve had known he had a soulmate for as long as he could remember. His mom would hug him tight and say "oh your soulmate will love you so much" and his dad would say, "be good, still have a soulmate to meet" and Steve would just beam. He couldn't help but to be ecstatic. He was the only kid in his entire school to have a soulmate until the fifth grade when some kindergartener came. But everyone in his grade was jealous, and that felt good, he felt so cool. Girls would giggle about how he is destined for someone and then they would suck him off at parties to prove they are better than any ol soulmate. Boys would tease and laugh about what Steve's perfect soulmate must be like, the size of her boobs and forehead and teeth. Steve gobbled it up, basked in the attention, the popularity.

When Steve's eighteenth birthday came around, he was ready to receive the official letter of soulmate introduction, to learn who his soulmate was. He wanted to know if they liked scary movies or comedies, if they failed any of their high school classes too, if they were sweet or stubborn or smart. He wanted to know if they would be on top during sex and kiss him softly at night. But the letter didn't arrive on the day of his birthday, or the next day, or the day after that.

His mom said "you know she is probably just younger than you. you won't get to meet her until after her eighteenth" and his dad said "hopefully you won't have to wait too much longer son, you're pacing a hole in the grass to the mailbox"

So Steve got a job while he waited, figured he could save up some money of his own to set up a future for him and his soulmate. He spent much of his day thinking about who it could be, what kind of house they would want, how many kids they will have. Steve smiled and smiled just thinking about it.

Finally, many months later, Steve got the letter he'd been waiting for. He got home from work and his mom was right at the door, holding out the thick envelope with his name on it. Steve yelped and cheered and ran to his room to open it. He kicked off his shoes and threw himself onto his bed, ripped open the envelope and skimmed past all the jargon to reach his goal. The name of his perfect soulmate! His soulmate--

William "Billy" Hargrove

Born to Neil and Sarah Hargrove in Santa Cruz, California

Wanted for the murder of Neil Hargrove

What?

Steve continued to read, re-reading again, confused and then horrified and then firmly denying every word in front of him and then reading it again. His soulmate, Billy, had been arrested for breaking and entering, theft and destruction of private property on multiple occasions. He has a skull tattoo on his shoulder and two long scars across his back. He has blue eyes. He is wanted for the murder of his father, killed four months ago with a gun. Three shots to the body, dead.

Steve didn't come out of his room for a long time. He closed the door and cried and fought with the letter in his hand, trying to reason with its atrocities, it's lies. When he showed it to his mom three days later, she cried too. His dad said "that isn't your soulmate son" and went away to make phone calls.

It was awful. But Steve still thought to himself, they're my soulmate, I was made for them. I was made for Billy. Maybe-- maybe-- one day, I can visit him in prison and we can--

He didn't know. He didn't have time to figure it out. Not even a week after receiving his soulmate letter, he stopped at a gas station just out of town, ready to drive and drive and hopefully clear his head, when he met a boy. A boy with blond curls cut short and ocean blue eyes and a skull tattoo just under the sleeve of his ratty tshirt, asking for a ride to anywhere.

Anywhere is just where Steve was going.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #soulmates #soulmate au #criminal billy #and then they were both on the run

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astarionslittlejuicebox · 6 months

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The Promise of Eternity (Part 3)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery

Word Count: 1234

Imagine Series List

Side Notes:

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3. Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

TAV POV

As I walked out of the castle I called home, I was greeted by the gardeners tending to the landscape. Each of them received a smile and a small greeting from me as I proceeded on my journey to the one place that could help me uncover who had stolen the blood. A stone path lead away from the pearl white mansion and into a small forested area that separated the city from our sanctuary. I continued to follow that stone path until it turned to dust and then returned to stone as I arrived at the outskirts of the bustling city. Most of the city’s patrons took no notice of me as I waltzed through the city streets. Walking through the city had become a comfort for me in the last century, and it has only grown to be more of a comfort to me in the last few years with the tiefling parading about the castle. With the changing of the season, the scents of the city had changed. In the air, spices like cinnamon and clove hung heavily in the air as bakers in local bakeries baked fresh apple pies for the season. Cinnamon brooms hung in several store fronts that I passed by on my stroll, and I reminisced on the days when Astarion would let me decorate the castle for the upcoming holidays. Nowadays, the only room in the house that remained decorated for all the holidays was my bedchambers.

Some parents nearby laughed as their young child did a cartwheel in the grass off to the side of the pathway. An all-too-familiar feeling pulled at the muscles in the dead organ within my chest at the sight, and I quickly turned my attention back to my task at hand. The library in Baldur’s Gate had some of the best selections of books on all sorts of magic and spells. In my younger years, I had heard about a handful of rituals that could prove useful in shedding some light on who the blood thief was. Worse case scenario, I could use one of the rituals to locate the vial of blood itself.

The familiar ashen gray stone building stood before me with its long flight of cream stairs beckoning me up to the large stone double doors; standing guard on either side of the stairwell was a pair of slate gray gargoyles, whose eyes followed your every move. Giving them a small wave as I passed, I entered one of the few places in Baldur’s Gate that still felt like home. Shelves upon shelves occupied most of the space on the first floor of the enormous building. Books of all shapes and sized filled every shelf your eyes could see. Above the venter of the room, a circular opening gave away to the upper floor of the library, where more shelves stand awaiting the arrival of the next avid reader to pick a book from their shelf and peer between the book’s cover in search of the knowledge hidden within the sheets. Walking to the center of the room, a large circular desk demanded all attention as a golden dragonborn stood behind its daunting wooden structure. Vunxar Drakax was an older male dragonborn who loved the books as if they were his own children, and I had come to be great friends with him over the last few decades.

“Now, why would someone bend the corner of a page in Ascension and the Stars? Does no one have any respect for the pages anymore?” His exotic voice whispered as he worked to unbend a dog-eared page in a book with a sparkling purple cover.

“Most people do not care for the books like children, Vunxar.” I whispered as I stood in front of the desk where the librarian was working.

“That is precisely what is wrong with people nowadays. I remember when books were treated with respect and no one bent the pages.” He sighed heavily as he turned to look at me with cyan eyes. “Ah, (TAV’s name), what can I help you find today?” He gave me a toothy-smile before he continued to examine the returned library book’s condition.

“I am seeking knowledge of rituals that could either help me see a past event that happened in the last couple of days, and I believe there is a book that could help me track something that has been lost as well.” I gave the dragonborn a warm smile as he paused, contemplating my request.

“I do believe that I may have a few books in here that could hold the knowledge you seek. In shelving unit T21, there is a book with an emerald green cover called Ruination of Reality that details the dangers of timetraveling and alternating events of the past. Another book in shelving unit A4, Queen of the Lost and Found, may hold a story or two of the ancient Queen Coshi Talae and her ritual to find a lost relic of her late husband, who died at sea. The only other book I can think of off the top of my cranium is hidden away from the public, but for you I will allow to read. It is Inception of Yesterday, and you will find that book contains valuable information on the Weave’s ability to receive energy from events of the past. In there, I believe you could find some information about observing the past. Here, allow me to go get the book for you while you search for the other two.” Vunxar stepped away from the book in front of him as I started to make my way through the maze of shelves to find the books he had told me about. After searching the library for a couple of hours, I returned to the desk to check out the books Vunxar recommended. A book with a plain midnight blue cover laid on the desk next to his arm.

“I hope you were able to find both of my recommendations.” He said as I placed both of the books on the counter in front of him. “From the looks of it, you were able to. You wouldn’t believe the amount of incompetent people who are not able to locate any book in here, even with me telling them the shelving unit number.” He let out a soft, hardy laugh that quietly echoed in the otherwise silent building. “And I have found the book I promised you as well.” He wrote quickly on the ledger the names of the books, the date, and my name before handing me all three books. “As always, please return to me once you have had your fill of knowledge from the books, or if you find you no longer need the knowledge within the pages.”

“Of course, Vunxar.” I gave him a warm smile before grabbing the books and taking my leave. I kept a brisk pace back to the dungeon of the castle I called home as I eagerly awaiting the knowledge hidden within the pages of the books that were hugged close to my unbeating heart.

Hopefully I can learn what I need to in these pages to catch that damn blood thief. I thought to myself. Perhaps, then, Astarion would at least speak to me cordially again. With a newfound pep in my step, I could not wait to delve into the books.

#astarion imagine #astarion x reader #baldursgate3 #baldursgate3imagine #ascended astarion #the promise of eternity

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eruden-writes · 1 month

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Self-Destructive Life Choices - Part 1

Boss x Employee Orc x Human May not continue

This started off as a self-indulgent boss x employee little smut fic - wherein the boss just propositions the employee one day - but went a completely different direction.

Summary: Estrella Marsh has worked for Kizru Vit, CEO and owner of Storybound Publishing House, for five years. For most of that time, she has harbored a crush on him. A crush which she has, effectively, crushed down and refuses to address.

Three months after Kizru and his romantic partner separate, he propositions Estrella to - ahem - help him scratch an itch. Which, in turn, leads to a bigger proposal.

xxx

Stopping outside her boss’s office, Estrella Marsh took a deep breath and readjusted the litany of papers in her arms. An excited apprehension always came with entering Mr. Vit’s proximity. It had been five years since Estrella started working at Storybound Publishing House and her nerves had never deadened.

Mr. Vit had been the one to hire Estrella as his personal assistant, which was just a more PC way of saying secretary. She answered calls and emails; scheduled and reminded him of appointments; and, less commonly, often read and “red penned” some of the potential manuscripts looking to publish under SPH’s logo. Likely the job should have gone to an actual copy editor or something, but the boss seemed to trust Estrella with the “special” option the most.

Estrella was not sure what made them particularly special, other than the fact they were written by the company’s #1 Best Selling Romance Author, CR Onamai.

Steeling herself as she pushed the door open, she half-hoped he would be gone. It was later in the evening and, since his long-time partner’s departure, he’d taken leaving early without notice. Keeping her head down - certainly not daring to look at the door that once connected Kizru’s office to Ryeleigh’s - she trudged into the office and made a beeline for his desk.

She barely got two steps in when Mr. Vit’s voice greeted her, “Hey, Red, want to help me with something?”

Her head snapped up, finding Mr. Vit leaned back in his chair. His green eyes on her and his eyebrows raised in an inquisitive fashion.

The nickname he gifted her wasn’t particularly imaginative, coined upon her talent for “red-penning” manuscripts. There was no other reason for it, considering she had neither red hair nor a penchant for wearing the color.

Fighting down the heat of being seen, Estrella moved closer to his desk and placed the stack of documents down. Task complete, she stood straight and clasped her hands in front of herself. “What is it, Mr. Vit?”

She was careful to keep the curiosity from her eyes when she looked at her boss.

Kizru Vit was not necessarily someone she had imagined sitting at the helm of a publishing company. If Estrella hadn’t worked at the publishing company, she would have pictured the head to be someone older and bespectacled. Perhaps possessing a distinguished air. Someone no nonsense and particular.

Kizru, on the other hand, was tall and broad with a seaweed green skin tone and features that could be called sculpted or craggy, depending on his mood. His style of dress waffled between business-casual to, on predicted slow days, sweatpants and a tank top. A scar streaked down the right side of his face, turning his right eye a more milky shade of green. Despite the injury, he assured Estrella he could still see out of the eye.

His age was beginning to show in his black beard, peppered with white, and at his white-streaked temples. During her employment, the rest of his hair had subtly shifted from deep black to a lighter shade, undoubtedly becoming lighter with age.

Admittedly, he did wear glasses and at times he could be distinguished. Though thanks to how closely Estrella worked with him, the distinguished air was often undercut by his scatter-minded tendencies.

“It’s been three months since my partner left me, right?” He braced his elbow on top of the desk, leaning forward as his chin rested in his palm.

His position reminded her of a schoolkid, staring longingly at the clock as it inched closer to dismissal time. However, the reminder of his ex almost made her jolt. Ryeleigh, her boss’s ex, had been his romantic partner for longer than Estrella worked at the publishing house. They’d always been pleasant and kind, though professionally distant. Something Kizru could have taken notes on when Ryeleigh was present.

Further, they had always been one of the reasons Estrella had clamped down on the fond thoughts of Mr. Vit, keeping her admiration from becoming more than workplace appropriate.

“Yes, I believe it’s been about three months.” In an attempt to swallow the feelings that threatened to flutter through her, she gave a stoic nod.

Kizru’s green eyes watched her carefully for a long moment, fingers toying with the short beard at his chin. Estrella couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking. Had Ryeleigh contacted him to renew their relationship? Was he considering getting back out into the dating world? Neither of those thoughts seemed like he’d need her input.

He was a grown man, capable of doing his own research or taking his own ass out on the town if he so pleased.

“Alright, putting all the cards on the table,” Kizru finally sighed, pressing both of his palms flat to the desk as he leaned back. She noticed how his chair slid backward as his back hit the cushion. “I’m really horny.”

Her attention shot to his face, her eyes widening at the three simple words. He was horny? Heat churned through her, confused and wary. As much as she admired him, as much as he made something inside her squirm, that was not in her job description. And she wasn’t about to let it become entangled in her professional affairs.

With her eyebrows furrowing and her lips twisting into a frown, she replied, “You have two hands. Use those.”

“Believe me, I have been. It’s an itch that needs another person to scratch.” Kizru groaned, throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling again. He didn’t even have the decency to be flushed at his ridiculous request, Estrella noticed.

“Mr. Vit, this is sexual harassment,” she sighed, her tone a hard warning. He shouldn’t need this reminder. These words alone could ruin him. Only the fact she liked him and felt grateful for this position really saved him from the scandal.

As expected, he nodded and turned his gaze to her. “I know.”

“Then why ask me that!” It was more of an exclamation than a question on her part. She was glad she had already deposited the papers to his desk, otherwise they would have been thrown into flight. While not the first time he had spoken openly - unprofessionally - in front of her, this was by far the worst he’d been. Had the break-up really affected him so badly?

He gave a single shoulder shrug, too lackadaisical in Estrella’s opinion. An infuriatingly light grin tilted at his lips. “You didn’t say no right away.”

“And I didn’t say yes,” she snapped back, trying to convince herself the heat on her cheeks was ruddy anger rather than mortification. Or something worse. “You could get in a lot of trouble for this.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kizru gave another careless shrug that made Estrella want to slap the everloving shit out of him.

“You are risking your career, your livelihood to scratch an itch, Mr. Vit.” It was only by the gods’ grace that Estrella managed to say the words at her regular decibel, albeit in a ferociously clipped tone. She put her hands on her hips, scowling at her boss. Something in his smile twitched a little wider and, not for the first time, Estrella felt like an old-time schoolmarm being sassed by a precocious adolescent.

Which honestly should not have been the case, given the fact he was older than her. But she had always been an “old soul,” as her mother said. Of course, Estrella later realized that was just a more polite way of calling her stodgy.

Kizru shrugged as if he didn’t care about the problems his proposal could cause as he got to his feet. Her mind raced, one question rotating around her thoughts. How could he not care? All the while, part of her watched as Kizru moved out from behind the desk, closing the distance between the two of them.

“Are you having one of those mid-life ‘oh no my partner left me so I’m going to make destructive life choices’ moments?” The words would have had greater impact had Estrella not backed away from her boss with his every step forward. She couldn’t risk Kizru getting closer to her. The heat on her cheeks and the pounding in her chest were already distracting enough. Just catching the whiff of his cologne made her knees wobble.

He paused, looping his thumbs into the pockets of his pants as he regarded Estrella. She could only imagine what he saw. A frumpy woman, dressed in her usual black slacks and white blouse and grey cardigan. Dark brown hair so threaded with grey, it was becoming a lighter, dustier, color. She barely resisted the urge to bashfully push her glasses up higher on her nose.

Did he think she’d be an easy lay? Was that why he was breaching the legally allowable parameters of their employer-employee relationship? Estrella tried to let that thought fuel her anger, but a hidden part of her knew it wasn’t exactly incorrect. She had, in her moments of weakness, fantasized about that very breach of conduct herself.

As if hearing her thoughts, a crooked grin parted his lips, making her insides burn. That particular smile always brought her attention to his tusks, often filed down to nubs. Since the separation, she thought he may have eased off on the ritual, but it was hard to tell.

“Maybe I am being self-destructive or maybe I’m just horny and decided to shoot my… shot with you, Red.”

Estrella narrowed her eyes at him again, somehow feeling the other word he had hanging on his tongue. His smile twitched, a spark of mischief dancing in his green eyes. Shoot his load with her, indeed.

“Look, you'll be all within your rights to go to HR about this. You can walk out that door now and I won’t stop you.” He raised his hands, palms facing Estrella in a non-threatening motion. She had to bite her tongue to keep from ogling his forearms, the sleeves of his button-up shoved to his elbow. This situation was not one where she should gawp at her boss. She should be offended and disgusted, on her way to HR right that moment.

When his next words registered in her head, it froze her thoughts. “But I can smell the arousal on you. I have for a while. Just figured, what with me being single now and the opportunity…”

Cold shot through Estrella, making the heat on her cheeks burn all the worse. Her wide eyes pinned him with a wild look. “How long?”

“Excuse me?” Her tone of voice caused him to pause from creeping closer, cocking his head to the side a little. There was a little spark of amusement in his eye, an odd smile barely quirking his lips at the corners. Somehow, he was taking her words down an inappropriate line of thought.

Estrella swallowed, forcing her tone to come out calm rather than frantic. “How long have you been able to smell arousal on me?”

She had smashed her feelings the moment she met Kizru with his partner at the holiday party, five years ago. She had shoved them so far down, they were flatter than a pancake. There was no way he could have known. Estrella didn’t even allow herself to dally on her… appreciation of him for too long. A wall had been built!

“Oh!” Whatever Kizru had been thinking had apparently been wrong. The wry grin faded a little as his eyebrows quirked. “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t take too much notice of it until Ryeleigh left me?”

Well, that was a little bit of a relief. Her shoulders eased, admitting that arousing attraction was different from whatever else threatened to stir in her chest. Kizru was attractive and nice. The occasional daydream was natural.

Still, Estrella glanced at the exit, uncertain what to do. He was circling behind her and her heart wasn’t truly looking for an escape. Hells, her mind wasn’t even telling her to move. Being propositioned by her boss wasn’t unappealing.

“Last chance to leave, Red, before I…”

Once again, his words roused her from her frenetic thoughts. Her attention snapped back to his face, hating how wide her eyes were as she stumbled back from his approach. “Before you what?”

Kizru teeth flashed in a broader smile, taking another step closer. “Before I stop restraining myself.”

x x x

I've written a little bit more to this, but it's only available on my Patreon.

Again, not sure if I'll continue this.

#exophilia #orc #orc lover #monster lover #orc x human #boss x employee #exo writing #not sure if I'll continue this #monster fucker #monster love #monster romance #monster x human #kizru #estrella #self destructive life choices #sdlc

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ackerfics · 2 years

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pahinga (lock pt. 2) — eren jaeger

— eren jaeger x female reader (modern au | lock au)

— content: both a mother's and father's day special <3 just family time with the lock family without the chaos

— summary: pahingá [noun] rest; repose; a safe haven where you can feel the most peaceful, for some it is a place but for most, it takes the form of the person you want to see at the end of the day — someone that can make you forget the exhausting world. comes from the root word, hingá, which means breathe. (used in a sentence: ikaw ang aking pahingá.)

— word count: 7.2k

— notes: for those who want lock pt. 2, here it is !!! though, it doesn't contain the chaotic side of this family, it still shows the dynamic between parents and kids. i, for one, feel better when my mom or dad is willing to listen to me (when i don't find their moods disheartening, that is). fun fact: all of these scenarios happened to me in real life except for one (it's obvious which one it is dhjddj). this was supposed to be posted on mother's day but with me being preoccupied because of uni, i never got to finish it. soooo, enjoy reading this and have an amazing day <33

lock can be read here !!

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! masterlist

Everybody was already picked up by their parents but Ezra was still waiting by one of the canopied benches lining his elementary school.

Tumultuous raindrops fell on the roof of his little shelter as he was staring at a single point his entire wait. It has been an hour since his classes were postponed because of the unexpected storm. His classmates were gone so long ago and all little Ezra could do was sit by himself, praying that his dad or mom’s car rolled into the parking lot of the school. The top of his head became wet from running all the way to the front of the huge double door entrance because he left his raincoat by their living room’s low table. Ezra sniffed, his tears spilling on his cheeks like how the rain continuously pounded on the ground, and his fists wrapped around the straps of his Pochacco backpack while thinking of the worst things imaginable.

Did his mom forget about him? Was it because his younger brothers needed her more than him?

Ezra sobbed now. He knew that by entering elementary school, he would spend less time with his parents, the very people who he looked up to. He didn’t want to be far from you and Eren.

Aran was in his last year of pre-school and Caspian just started zooming through every corner of the house. Ezra was the only one among his brothers whose school was so far away from home. Was this going to be the day his parents left him behind? He continued crying, his fists covering his eyes and his sobs drowned out by the rain. It was getting cold and he wanted nothing more than to cuddle close to you, his mom.

He jumped at a sudden flash of light in the sky, covering his ears when the clap of thunder shook the earth.

“Ezra, sweetheart!”

Your voice was quiet in the thunder but Ezra heard it the moment you uttered the first syllable of his name.

The little boy looked up and saw you running towards him with a clear umbrella over your head. It looked like you came straight from work. Your appearance was frazzled — hair askew from the tidy bun you always sported every single day, locks of it tumbling over your shoulder unbound, and your suit jacket hastily put on your person. You looked so distraught at the sight of your baby sitting alone under a canopy with his wet clothes and teary face. Curse one of the higher-ups in your office for breathing over your neck every minute. You didn’t even manage to send a text to Eren because of your boss’ policy of no phones during work hours. With the storm slowly becoming destructive as the afternoon passed by, your boss had no choice but to relieve everyone from work. Which was why you hastily went out of your office, the first thing in your mind was Ezra. It was a stroke of luck that Aran didn’t have any class for the day. Thank his teacher for predicting the future.

Despite your frantic state, Ezra felt safe. “Mommy!” He cried while opening his arms and hopping off the bench.

You immediately kneeled under the canopy and let Ezra run in your arms. He cried on your shoulder, wrenching your heart in the worst way possible. You repeatedly kissed his temple, whispering, “Mommy’s here. I got you, sweetie.”

“I’m scared,” he kept saying.

You rubbed his back in rhythmic circles. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry for not coming sooner.” Ezra’s cries didn’t stop so you pulled away from the hug to meet his eyes. You cupped his chubby cheek with your palm and smiled. “Hey, baby, you don’t have to worry — I’m right here now. Follow my breathing, okay?” He nodded at your words. Then, you took a deep breath in, the little boy following your actions, and you exhaled alongside him. Even though it was a shaky sigh, he managed to calm down almost instantly. You repeated the actions until his breaths no longer trembled. “You’re doing so good, sweetie.” Your hands never stopped running over his arms, transferring heat from your palms to his icy skin. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

Ezra nodded with a small yet bright smile.

“Give me your bag and put this jacket on. Come here.” The boy wrapped his arms around your neck after you put on his backpack. With a steady hand over his bottom and head, you lifted him in your arms. “Up you go. Now, does hot chocolate sound awesome?”

“Yeah!”

“Hold tight on Mommy, okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Then, to home, we go!”

“Relax, honey,” Eren whispered to you, his large hand covering your shaking one. “If you’re going to cry, I’m crying, too. I don’t think these people will appreciate the two of us sobbing at our son’s graduation.” He stopped talking when he heard someone cry behind him. Guess it was okay to cry at this event, then.

“Look at him, Ren.” You wiped your teary eyes with your hand.

Eren followed your finger to Aran standing at the side of the stage clad in his elementary uniform thrown underneath his deep emerald graduation gown. The brunet grinned at the scene of his second eldest trying to straighten his graduation gown. Your husband knew that you were about to cry because this is the second time any of your children would have to go to a farther school. The more he stared at Aran talking to one of his classmates in the line for elementary diplomas, the more he understood your sentiments.

And it was all because of your hard work as the mother of his children that another one would be taking the stage as the valedictorian.

Very much like how you help Ezra with his homework and projects, you helped Aran with his schoolwork throughout elementary school despite having a full-time job at the local city hall. Not only did you teach them how to study, but you also reminded them that someday they'll have to do this alone — studying for their academics. You were never hard on them when they made a mistake in calculating their divisions or fractions nor were you too drilling about the theories necessary for a sixth-grader. Instead, Eren watched you by the counter island, a loving smile on his lips while you maintained patience like no other. (That was until Caspian banged one of the frying pans while waiting for dinner did Eren stop staring at you like a lovesick fool.)

“I’m so proud of him, Ren,” you gushed, hand on your chest. “I know we saw Ez up there a year ago but I think that fact made me even more emotional.”

Eren chuckled. “I know, Liebe.” He pressed a kiss on your temple. “Middle school may be a different world but that’s the thing. They’re growing up now.”

That alone made you pout. “They’re growing up, huh?”

“Yeah,” Eren agreed, rubbing his hand on your arm.

“I just wish I could prevent them from doing so.”

“Me, too, Liebe. Me, too.”

Aran met your gaze from the side of the stage. The boy brightened at you and enthusiastically raised his arm in the air to give you a wave. You returned the gesture with a warm smile. Satisfied with your response, he went back to talking to his classmate, the elated glint in his eyes reflecting his father’s.

Then, the graduation started.

Because J was a later letter, you could hear one of your kids whining even without them doing it yet.

“Mommy, how much longer?” Caspian complained beside you. He planted his head on your lap, which earned a squawk from Ezra, who’s beside him since his feet would dangle on his older brother’s carefully-ironed pants.

You laughed at his puffy cheeks, pinching them while answering, “Just wait a little bit, okay?”

“Will we go to that fancy restaurant with the tall ice cream sundaes after this?”

“Of course, it’s a celebration after all.” You ran your fingers through Caspian’s hair, making him nuzzle more onto your lap. That fancy restaurant was where you and your family frequented whenever there was something worthy of a celebration. Usually, your and Eren’s friends also tagged along, especially since the owner was an ex-boyfriend of one of your best friends. Some might say it was going to be awkward but Sasha was passed that and was happily dating Mikasa, not to mention Niccolo was such a sweetheart since you were in college. Plus, he offered free sides and dishes — you could say it was a win.

“It’s already the letter H, little man,” Eren chimed, leaning over you to poke his youngest’s nose. “You can have your ice cream parfaits sooner than expected.”

“Jaeger, Aran.”

Cheers erupted in your row. Connie, Jean, and Sasha all stood up and whooped with their hands cupped at the sides of their mouths. Mikasa even joined in the cheers, preferring to sit rather than follow her girlfriend and friends’ example. You and Eren laughed at the standing ovation while Armin only shook his head, still clapping nonetheless. Ezra managed a chuckle, thankful that he wasn’t the one looking at the crowd with an embarrassed face this time around. Cassie, on the other hand, jumped at the loud cheers and glared at the three who disrupted his dozing moment. Eren cupped his hands over his son’s ears because it looked like the little boy was plotting on using his toy soldiers against them. People were looking at your group as if they ate something remotely sour. As Connie said, it sucked to be them.

Aran shakily smiled at all of you after transferring his string to the other side of his cap. You could see that his cheeks were flaming at the whoops emanating from his aunts and uncles.

As the names dwindled to the last person in Aran’s batch list, it was now time for the top students’ speeches. Eren perked up in his seat, with you putting a hand on his arm while preventing a laugh. Your husband took out his phone, ready to record every single word of your son’s well-crafted speech (it was made with the help of Ezra, who took perfection to the next level among your children). Everybody in your friend group was excited to hear the valedictory address.

“And now for this batch’s valedictorian — please, kindly take the stage, Aran Jaeger.”

Polite applause enveloped the venue. Aran felt his chest pound along with every step he took towards the stage and at every clap echoing around him. His hands were clammy and he was gulping faster in a minute. The butterflies in his stomach were anything but fluttering, nerves pooling in every crevice of his body. His mind opened and his speech flew out of his head with the ticking hands of his wristwatch. It worsened when he finally stood behind the podium, hundreds of faces staring up at him in anticipation. Aran could see Ezra raising his thumb next to his face, an encouraging smile on his big brother’s lips. That didn't help.

So, he turned to the one person he knew would quell the woes of public speaking from his system — you.

Your warm gaze, a color that was similar to his yet so different at the same time, was trained on him. Aran knew he only stood there for mere seconds but time seemed to slow down as you presented him with a gentle, tender smile. You took a deep breath in and a knowing spark tickled his chest. He followed the action as silently as possible. The nervousness that he felt minutes prior with an exhale — magic only you could conjure without lifting a hand or uttering any incantations.

The microphone picked up the small gasp he did while closing his eyes.

Aran parted his mouth and started speaking.

“Mommy,” Caspian murmured, tugging on the edge of your blouse.

“Yes, pumpkin?” You faced your youngest after talking to one of the mothers attending the soccer tournament.

He fiddled with his gloved hands. “I can’t do this.”

“Oh, pumpkin,” you placed a hand over his fidgeting ones and looked him in the eye. “Why do you think so?”

Caspian looked around the grassy field that was transformed for the soccer game thrown by his elementary school. There were so many third-grade kids mingling with each other, sharing stories about how they got the newest Nerf guns or the latest phones in their matching uniforms. They all looked confident enough for this game. He then tilted down his head to stare at his cleats, brows furrowed and pout visible on his lips. “What if I mess up? What if we lose because of me?”

You turned to Eren, who was beside you, only to find him preoccupied with Aran’s Rubix cube and Ezra leaning against him while reading an assigned book from his English class. As much as the sight endeared you, you needed his help because he was the one who played a lot of sports the entirety of his life (well, since the moment he entered elementary school, that is). Letting your husband and other kids are, you focused your attention on your gloomy son. You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking the skin underneath his eye.

“Do you trust Mommy?” you asked him.

Caspian adorably nodded his head.

With your smile widening at his response, you continued, “I know you’re going to be so amazing out there. You practiced a lot with Daddy, right?” He nodded again. “Didn’t he tell you so many compliments because you caught every single ball he kicked? We’ve seen you play in so many practices, pumpkin, and there’s never a moment that we thought you were going to mess it up.” At your every word, Caspian’s face brightened until he was beaming in front of you. “Now, how does our little ace feel?”

Caspian giggled when you tickled his sides. “Better!”

Your son’s coach was doing the role call. There was no trace of nervousness on Caspian’s face when he faced you again, his puppy dog eyes staring at you with anticipation instead. You took a deep breath in and he followed the action. Both of you exhaled at the same time and you couldn’t have felt so proud in your life. “Are you ready, pumpkin?”

He looked so alive after the little gesture you two shared. “Yeah!”

You chuckled and showered his cheeks with so many kisses. “That’s my boy.”

Eren popped his head over your shoulder. “Hey, little man, are you feeling alright?”

Caspian’s hair bounced as he nodded. “Mommy helped me calm down, Dad.”

“How about this? After this game, we’re going to eat your favorite ice cream sundae.”

“Really?!”

“As many orders as you want, Cassie.”

“You’re the best, Dad!” Caspian exclaimed before kissing your cheek and Eren’s. “I love you, Mommy!” He then ran towards his coach.

You slowly turned to Eren, who was wearing a smile while looking at his mini-me. “I can’t believe he called you the best just because you offered to buy him all the ice cream sundaes for the afternoon.” Despite your words, your face looked amused.

Eren chuckled, leaning in to plant a kiss on your temple. “Nah, your encouragement for our little Cassie is definitely the best. I just used the most obvious tactic to make him even happier.” He sighed, a smile present on his lips. Eren placed his chin on your shoulder, humming a made-up tune while watching the first few minutes of the game. You both could hear Aran shout ‘go, Cassie’, Ezra joining him even though he was holding the camera. Eren grinned at his two other sons. “Look, our baby boy never takes his eyes off the ball. That’s our Cassie!” He lifted his head from your shoulder to yell the cheer.

And when you happily watched your son play the goalkeeper. He might not save every ball this time but you knew that he gave it his best. Your heart swelled with summer butterflies when Caspian’s brilliant viridian eyes met yours, pure happiness radiating around him.

There was no distinct chorus of ‘I’m home’ coming from the front door when Ezra and Aran came home from school.

As the door closed, pounding footsteps ran up the stairs. You were about to check what was wrong when Aran slowly walked under the opened arch of the kitchen with a troubled look on his face. You wiped your hands on your apron. “What’s wrong, sunshine?”

Aran gulped, not meeting your eyes as he stared down at the smooth wooden panels of the floor. His bag was still on his shoulders and his sock-covered feet shuffled as if he was buying time. “Uh.” He accidentally caught Caspian looking in his direction from one of the counter stools of the kitchen island, the younger boy expressing his curiosity with thick furrowed eyebrows and a frown. Aran only pursed his lips to answer the boy’s silent question. “You see, Mom, uhm.”

“Did something happen at school?” You carefully asked, giving Aran your full attention.

Your second eldest rubbed the back of his neck. “I think it has something to do with their honors list. Their class just got theirs.”

Your mouth formed an ‘oh’ in understanding. You quickly turned back to the kitchen cupboards, opening up shelves and taking out the necessary ingredients to make a certain snack. “Thank you for telling me, sunshine,” you told him over your shoulder. “You can use the TV to play games today, just make sure you’re wearing your glasses!” You shouted when you heard his footsteps receding and heading towards the family room. Aran yelled a ‘yes, Mom’, a reply that you found satisfactory before you busy yourself with making macaroni and cheese.

Usually, you weren’t around the house when the kids got home from school but when you were, you refrained from cooking anything at that hour because you would be at the grocery store in preparation for dinner and breakfast the next morning. Today was one of those rare days where you had an early off-time and Eren volunteered to do the grocery shopping. You also had more time on your hands since your higher-ups in the city hall didn’t assign that much paperwork for the rest of the weekend. While you waited for the macaroni and cheese to finish baking, you felt a homely embrace wrap around your waist, the smell of cinnamon and sandalwood making you smile as you cut some garlic bread. Eren’s chuckle tickled your right ear, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck. His smile on your skin ignited a swarm of monarchs inside your ribcage even after years of being married to him. He swayed you to the humming of a love song he just heard on the radio on the way home.

“I’m home, Liebling,” Eren tenderly murmured to your ear, his lips brushing over your earlobe.

“Welcome home, darling,” you replied with a huge smile.

Eren’s grin lit up his eyes. He dipped his head down and met your lips with his as if they were puzzle pieces that were made to fit with each other. His hold on you tightened, pulling you closer to his chest until you could feel his heartbeat on your back. The both of you separated for air, centimeters as the distance between your lips. The warmth on your face spread as Eren leaned again to slant his lips with yours. He playfully bit your bottom lip before speaking close to you so that you could feel his breath, “God, I love you so fucking much, Liebling.”

“I love you just as much, darling,” you hummed.

Eren giggled, flowers erupting inside him at those words. He watched you cut the garlic bread, his chin resting on your shoulder as if it belonged there. “What are you making? It’s too early to start cooking dinner.”

“This is for Ezra,” you answered, putting the cut bread pieces on a small platter.

Eren turned to her with a worried scrunch on his face. “What happened?”

“Their honors list came out.”

“Usually, he’d tell us if it did.”

You paused with your hands resting on the counter idly. “Well, this time, he went straight up to his room.”

Understanding dawned on Eren. Without you telling him outright about the results of the honors list, he could tell from your concerned expression that they didn’t align with Ezra’s expectations at all. He sighed, slumping on you more now that he knew the reason why you were cooking a container of baked macaroni and cheese. The smell was mouthwatering and it was still in the oven, for God’s sake. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

The look on your face was enough to make Eren swoon. Your eyes widened in a way that reminded him of an adorable cat — pupils blown and entire facial features set in a soft, cuddly state that had him clutching his chest in his mind. “Really? You would do that?”

“Well, you already cooked him his favorite food, I might as well let you rest.”

“Thank you, Ren.”

“Anything for our little family, Liebe.”

With that, Eren went up the stairs with a tray of macaroni and cheese, garlic bread, and a tall glass of iced tea (with a slice of lemon pinching the rim) half an hour later. He wasn’t one to talk to his boys when they were upset. It was mainly you. Which meant that they gained a much closer relationship with you rather than him. It broke his heart a little but it was downright heartwarming seeing Ezra, Aran, and Caspian cuddle up to you for random moments of comfort. He vividly remembered jokingly asking them which parent they would choose while preparing to drive to Disneyland in two cars. The three of them chose you. It was safe to say that Eren stood in front of the family’s second car with a pained smile on his face. In the end, you told him you five were riding in the same car anyway so he shouldn’t beat himself up over it even though he dug his grave.

However, that didn’t mean he never knew how to talk to his boys.

He stopped in front of Ezra’s door and tried to grasp the tray with one arm. With a full minute of him making sure that your hard work didn’t topple from the tray, Eren knocked on his eldest son’s door. The wait wasn’t that long because he heard a faint, “It’s unlocked,” from inside the room.

The sight that welcomed Eren upon entering Ezra’s room pinched the former’s heart.

Ezra rarely cried. It was something Eren observed on him ever since he outgrew the phase where the little boy mostly spent his nights between you and him in the master bedroom, especially on thundering, stormy ones. On days that he felt the need to let out a tear or two, the boy would simply look into space until he couldn’t feel the burning behind his eyes and throat. Most of the time, Eren would rub his back and in the rest of those times, your arm was wrapped around your eldest in a comforting manner. Eren never understood the concept of bottling up emotions and older siblings since he was the youngest in his family. One thing he did see though was Zeke and Mikasa doing the exact thing as Ezra — never showing emotions even when they knew it was perfectly okay to spill them, knowing that their home would be more than willing to catch them. Now, Eren respected his older siblings but he didn’t want their mannerisms plastered on his son. It hurt him just thinking about it.

However, the moment Eren closed the door with a push of his back, Ezra hastily sniffed and wiped his eyes. The teenage boy turned so that his back was facing his father.

Without saying a word, Eren walked toward his son’s bed. He let him be while placing the tray of food on Ezra’s nightstand. A small sigh came out of the brunet. This would be a tough afternoon. The bed’s mattress dipped at Eren’s weight. Ezra’s silent sobs colored the entire room blue and Eren knew it was better if he let him cry it out until he had no energy to. He simply raked his fingers through his soft hair — a thing he did for his boys when they were younger and dozed off on his chest in the family room. The entire time, his body was angled so that he was giving Ezra apt attention. If the man had to brag about something, it would be his patience because raising three boys with you would ultimately require it.

“You okay, buddy?” Eren asked Ezra once the boy sat against the headboard.

Ezra sniffed, staring at his lap with his fingers fidgeting. “Are you disappointed in me?”

The man sat up straight, his face blatantly showing how perplexed he was.

“I know I disappointed my teachers.” Ezra glanced at Eren from the corner of his eye. “They told me they couldn’t believe it.” Fresh tears start building up in Ezra’s eyes. “I mean … I couldn’t believe it either.” There was a pause and the boy’s voice wavered, “I studied so hard this semester.” I don’t know where I went wrong. I worked so hard, and knowing that it wasn’t enough in the end … It hurts so much, Dad. I’m so angry at the teachers, and my classmates who earned their spot on the honors list, but above all, I’m so angry at myself for not pushing myself harder to be there with them. All I want is to make you and Mom proud.”

Eren placed a hand on the back of Ezra’s head. “Buddy, buddy.” The boy was hyperventilating while spewing out words that made Eren’s chest clench. His son’s distinct irises met with his. Eren whispered, “Breathe, buddy.”

The two of them inhaled and exhaled at the same time.

“One more time, bud,” Eren told him.

Ezra followed his father’s rhythm of breathing until he felt freer than earlier.

“Better?” The man asked. Ezra nodded and that was enough for him to pull his son in a side hug. The boy leaned his head on his shoulders. “Can I tell you something?” A hum was what Eren received as a reply. “You always make me and your mom proud. Every single day since you were born — you are our pride and joy. Nothing can change that, especially a list of students from your school.”

Eren rubbed the teenager’s shoulder with a firm squeeze.

“We know that academic achievement is the main focus, seeing as you’re in school and all, and it’s true that you’re required to do well so that you can have a secure educational background in the future. But, Ez,” Eren locked eyes with a teary Ezra, “you are so much more than some measly remarks from your teachers or your grades. They don’t define who you are as a person. I, for one, think you’re the most hardworking kid out there and your teachers don’t see that — to hell with them. The fact that you stay up all night trying to learn a mathematical equation or memorize the entire periodic table, the fact that you do well and do not get distracted, and the fact that you also help your little brothers in their classes — I could not possibly be prouder.

“Now, are we cool? Are you feeling any better?”

Ezra’s lips wobbled but he still managed a smile. “You’re so awesome, Dad.”

The brunet’s heart swelled and a large smile became the result of it. He leaned down and kissed Ezra on the forehead. “And you’re so amazing, our little bean. Oh, and before I forget, your mom made some mac and cheese.”

Ezra had stars in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Eren handed him the bowl of mac and cheese. “She whipped it up the moment you got home.”

The boy stuffed his face with a spoonful of his comfort food. “She makes the best mac and cheese ever.”

“I know, right?”

“You wanna have a bite, Dad?”

“Nah, it’s your bowl — you deserve to have it all to yourself.”

Ezra was having none of that so he rolled his eyes. “Here you go, Dad.”

Eren laughed at a spoon filled with mac and cheese hovering in front of his mouth. He was about to decline but the teenager narrowed his eyes at him. “Okay, okay.” Your cooking never fails to feel like home. “Mmm. Still delicious the first time I tried it in her college dormitory.”

From beyond the door, you smiled, forehead pressed on the doorframe and hand feeling the mellow song being played in your heart. Tears were shed, feelings were bared, but you knew that they would be alright in the end. The person who held your heart was someone who loved too much and he would do anything for those who he showered them to, that included your children — most especially your children with him. All was well and it was because of Eren Jaeger.

“Mister Jaeger, this is the school doctor. I just wanted to let you know that Caspian sprained his left foot and wrist earlier during lunch. You’re his emergency contact in the student records and he requested to have you pick him up. Thank you.”

He was borderline going over the speed limit. The frantic, tumultuous beating inside his chest never calmed even as he overtook a truck in front of him. Maybe that contributed to how fast his heartbeat was. The polaroid of his family and air freshener was swaying like a pendulum at his speed. There was no way he was going to slow down when he received a call from the school about Caspian. Eren thanked the deities above that there was no traffic even though it was lunchtime. He definitely didn’t want the rush hour to make him late when his son was hurting inside his school’s clinic.

Eren already contacted you about the situation. He had to lower the volume in the car because you shouted so loud in worry, threatening one of your officemates to let you off work just to pick Caspian up. Your husband had to calm you down in a steady voice, telling you that he got it covered. He felt the same way as you but Eren was more on the frustrated side. Of course, his top priority was his son’s safety but the impulsivity from when he was young told him to bring this matter to the principal’s office. Caspian was the most careful child there was. Being the baby in the family, he was more on the sheltered side. With a doting mother, protective dad, and attentive older brothers, it was safe to say that Caspian was the most loved kid in the city. It was even a miracle that he joined the sports team in his school. The number of times you fuss over his injuries because he tried blocking a soccer ball using his face.

So, while walking towards the clinic in his dress shirt, his tie discarded before getting out of the car, he was plotting to hunt down the kid who hurt his little boy.

“Oh, no,” Eren breathed out.

On one of the many blinding white clinic beds was a little boy of ten. Tears kept making tracks on his chubby face, his hiccups coming every so often as he cried for his parents to be there faster. Caspian’s wrist and foot were encased in compression wrap, with his arm snug in a sling. It was seen that every little movement hurt him because he let out tiny yelps while trying to make himself comfortable on the clinic bed. His butt was starting to hurt waiting for his dad to come barging into the clinic. Right when he was about to sob, Caspian heard the door open with a bang, pants coming from the clinic’s entrance rang out the large room.

Caspian looked up from the daisy sticker on his compression wrap. “Papa,” he cried, which caught the attention of the school doctor.

“Mister Jaeger, you’re finally here,” the doctor greeted him.

“Yeah,” the said man numbly nodded, his eyes never straying from Caspian’s. He sighed while making a beeline to his son. “Oh, little man.” He sat on his hunches in front of Caspian, looking up at him with downturned eyebrows. “What happened?” Eren wiped the tears flowing on his son’s fluffy cheeks.

“It hurts, Papa,” Caspian cried. It has been a while since Cassie called him that. The boy claimed he was too old for it. As much as the term tickled his heart, reaching his lips in a smile; he knew that it was at the expense of his son’s safety. “I want this to stop.”

Eren nodded, his hand rubbing the back of Caspian’s head. “I know, I know, little man.”

He saw that Caspian was starting to lose air from crying too much so he cupped both of the boy’s cheeks with his large palms. The warmth from his hands made Caspian stare into the same viridian eyes you love seeing on Eren every day when you wake up to strawberry skies. Eren breathed in, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling it through his mouth. It would be unconventional to have Caspian follow through with breathing with the nose since the boy has been crying since before he came to his aid. The breathing exercises managed to stop Caspian’s hyperventilation, the drops of starlight dripping from the boy’s eyes turned into drying tracks as he shared a mirrored smile with his father.

The brunet man affectionately pinched Caspian’s chin. “Does it still hurt so badly?”

Caspian sniffled. “A little bit,” he murmured under his breath in a pout.

Eren lowly laughed. “Can you handle it?”

The boy nodded, the pout still present on his lips. “Now that you’re here, Papa, I can handle it.”

“That’s my boy,” Eren softly told him. “Can you wait a few minutes so that I can talk to the doctor?” Caspian once again nodded and Eren stood up straight from his hunches. He ruffled his son’s hair as tenderly as possible, pinching his ear just like when he pinched his chin. Eren sat down on the chair angled in front of the doctor’s desk. “What exactly happened?” He asked the man in the blinding white laboratory coat.

“He was pushed on the stairs, Mister Jaeger,” the doctor informed. “That’s what the witnesses gathered. Caspian’s class was going to the gym for P.E. and you know how rowdy elementary school kids are. One thing led to another, Caspian was pushed by one of his classmates while transferring to the gymnasium. It was a nasty fall, Mister Jaeger. He could’ve broken his foot if he didn’t prevent his fall with his hand.”

Eren’s eyes became hooded. “Who was the kid who pushed my son?”

“Don’t worry, Mister Jaeger, he is currently facing the principal for this matter. Most likely, he would be suspended from school for a month maximum. If it weren’t an accident, it would be a direct expulsion.”

“Hmm.” Eren crossed his arms over his chest, his arms straining inside his dress shirt.

“The child will be facing punishment, Mister Jaeger. As for Caspian, you can make an ice bath for his feet and constantly apply a cold compress on his wrist. Don’t let him do strenuous activities to prevent the injury from getting worse. The healing process should be within two weeks to a month.”

“Got it, Doc.”

“Caspian is excused for the entire day. You can bring him home now.”

Eren nodded before standing up, his hands patting his slacks from invisible dust. “Thank you for patching him up, Doc.”

“You’re welcome, Mister Jaeger. It’s just my job.”

The brunet smiled at the doctor. He then made his way towards Caspian and went back to sitting on his hunches to meet his boy’s eyes. “You ready to go home, little man? Is it alright if I carry you? Okay, up we go.”

Eren was a tall man with the right muscles sculpting his body. Carrying a ten-year-old kid who wasn’t that bigger than him when he was that age proved to be an easy feat in itself. With Caspian’s bag slung on one of his shoulders, Eren made sure he wouldn’t jostle Caspian’s injury. Even as he placed him in the passenger seat and securely put the seatbelt on him, Eren was still gentle. The entire time, he could see that his mini-me had been warily glancing at him, most likely expecting him to explode and scold him for being reckless��again. Eren wanted none of that. Yes, Caspian needed someone to tell him to be more careful but he was hurt this time. Real bad. And Eren was supposed to be the cool dad who never got angry unless his kids really did something horrendous like blow up a school building. Thank God that would never happen. (Except that one time Aran caused a fire in his year’s science laboratory. That was a different story. It was you who went to the school, not Eren.) His little boy needed comfort and probably more pampering from you.

The brunet regarded Caspian with a small smile. “How about we’ll order some takeout from the restaurant you love? We’ll get it with their ice sundae. How does that sound, little man?”

“With extra bananas and cherries?”

Eren grinned, pinching his son’s chin lightly. “With extra bananas and cherries.”

The first days of school were the worst.

Aran was jittering with nerves as he stared at the looming building at the end of the tree-lined pathway. It was imposing in the best and worst way possible. There was no other way to phrase it but it made Aran shake with anxiety. Middle school was a pretty big jump from elementary school. It felt so surreal to think that he was standing at the gates of one of the most prestigious institutions in their city. Aran couldn’t even fathom how he could pass such a difficult series of tests and applications (this school boasted two entrance examinations and two interviews — it was a wild yet horrific experience that had Aran crying inside the car by the time he finished the grueling second interview). These admissions were justified simply because it was the most sought educational institution in their state. It was more than just a science-based school, it was also an extension of the University of Paradis.

This school was pretty big time.

Not to mention that Ezra’s part of the student body and a member of the brightest batch of students to ever grace the school.

Technically, it wasn’t the first day of school but it was the first time he would step inside the gates without worrying about exams and interviews. The worry was more directed at keeping a brave face because Aran is freaking terrified of new beginnings. The school wasn’t even that far from their house (roughly a fifteen-minute drive) but it felt so far away from home at the same time … if that made any sense.

“Ezra, over here!”

Aran was jolted from his trance by a shout of his brother’s name.

Ezra waved a hand to his classmate. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going there!”

“Hurry up because the science club is gathering their members for the orientation! They’re looking for you — it seems like you’re the only one missing.”

The older boy huffed, hopping so that his bag was snugger on his shoulder. He looked up to Eren with a sheepish smile, “Dad, I’ll be going in first.”

“Go ahead, bean. Don’t run!” Eren shouted when Ezra started dashing towards the building, his backpack bouncing at every step.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Dad,” was Ezra’s loud reply.

The man pouted. “But you’re still my little kid.” Speaking of his kids, his secondborn was awfully quiet since they left the house for the new academic year’s orientation. One look from Aran and Eren could tell he was overwhelmed with nerves — Aran looked constipated as hell. Eren smiled a little while placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He pulled him in a side hug, “You okay there, nugget?”

“I’m nervous, Dad.”

“First days of school always got me, too, nugget.”

“Really?” Aran stared at the wistful air surrounding his father. There was a reminiscent facade creeping on Eren’s face as if he was viewing something that nobody could see — a highlight reel that only he could see. One thing that rang true to Aran was those reels might’ve included you and your years with him.

“Yeah,” Eren replied, pulling Aran into a walk underneath the canopy of trees creating tendrils of daylight between its leaves. “Your grandma had to calm me down every time. Apparently, I looked constipated while looking at the intimidating school I’m going to enroll in. Middle school was the worst, too. But your mom made it better. We went to the same school together, you see, along with your Aunt Mikasa and Uncle Armin. They made everything so easy. And when I thought I couldn’t last a day in my school, I think of them going through the same things, and instantly, my day would be better. Maybe you will find people in this school the exact way I found my lifelong friends — [Name], Mikasa, and Armin.”

“But it’s just so scary, Dad.”

“Change is always scary, nugget. But I like to think it’s only in the beginning. Once you adjust to this new school, you’re going to feel like you belong here. It might take you a long while or maybe a few days but trust me, when you do believe that everything is not as scary as it seems, it would feel so awesome.

“Now,” Eren beamed so wide that other people started seeing the sun up close as they glanced in the father-son duo’s way, “let’s take in the clean air in this part of the city and inhale,” he inhaled a large portion of air that the trees rustled with him and Aran, “and exhale it back so that the plants can make their food.” As Eren exhaled, Aran also expelled a large gust of air from his mouth before sharing the former’s large smile. “You feel like going inside there now?” He nodded at the building, which is just a step away.

Aran never noticed that they were getting nearer and nearer until his father pointed it out. His dad really had a way of making time flow faster than it already was. Aran intently stared at the pillars holding up the building, the name, Paradis Middle and High School of Science, gleaming against the just-right sunlight. He breathed deeply once again, his eyes closed, imagining you were here (you were at Caspian’s orientation). Feeling relieved, Aran looked up at Eren. “Yeah, Dad.”

“Then, let’s go!”

“Yeah!”

“You know, nugget, I’m looking forward to lunch. Do you think this orientation thing lasts for the entire morning or not?”

“Dad, we’re still walking towards the auditorium and you want this to end already?”

“Well…”

A lighthearted sigh came out of Aran. His dad is definitely the coolest out there.

It's safe to say that your three kids find solace in you and Eren. And it will stay timeless, very much like the love the three of them have for you two — a love that's reciprocated unconditionally and infinitely as the pinpricks of light in the endless midnight canvas of universes.

#rorywrites #lock/encanto universe ✨#aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan imagines #eren x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren fluff #dilf eren #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yaeger imagine

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daebakinc · 1 year

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Pretty Woman Finale

Pretty Woman AU

Pairing: Kihyun x Reader

Word Count: 2.6 K

Synopsis: Rich business man, Kihyun Yoo finds himself lost driving in Los Angeles. Stopping for directions he meets you, a prostitute on Hollywood Boulevard. What starts as a one night stand soon becomes a weeklong proposition, as Kihyun needs arm candy for his visit in the city of angels.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

~Admin V

You had trouble sleeping in your own bed. Partly because there were so many possibilities for you now and your mind was playing any and all ideas, and partly because you were spoiled by the Baverse mattress and couldn’t get comfortable.

As you lay awake, you worked out your plans for the next day. First, you’d have to stop by the library and use the computer to look up housing in San Fran. The idea of renting a car to get there seemed more comfortable with all your newly acquired belongings than toting everything on a bus.

Checking out schools for completing your G.E.D. was also on your list. You’d work on the job situation once you got there. The school could have programs to help you with that.

And Kihyun. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about him. His heartbroken face when you told him you weren’t going to spend the night with him. The way he nodded at the door when he screamed for K.Will to get the hell out. How his lips felt against yours the night before when you kissed him again and again.

At some point you’d finally dozed off. Frantic knocking on your door woke you. Looking at the clock it was a bit after 10a.m. The landlord must’ve been antsy for the rent. Sifting through the envelop from Kihyun, you grabbed what was due, but when you opened the door, it wasn’t the landlord standing before you.

His shoulders relaxed when he sighed with relief. “You’re here.”

Your jaw fell slack. “Kihyun? Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane to Korea?” You glanced around in the hall. “How do you know where I live?”

“Changkyun. When I was checking out, he casually mentioned that the limo driver took you home yesterday.” He took a deep breath. He must’ve run up all the flights of stairs to your floor.

Gesturing for him to enter your apartment, he took another breath of relief.

Facing you, he continued. “I’m an idiot.”

You smiled to that. “Yeah?”

He was flustered. It was clear there was so much he wanted, needed to express but didn’t know where to start. “You said this week changed everything for you. It changed everything for me as well. It just took me longer to realize it.” He began pacing in front of you, his words spewing out quickly. “Never, not in a million years would I have bought Honey Bear Records to save it. I was on the path of destruction and had absolutely no intention of ever getting off of it. But you,” he ran his fingers through his hair and looked you in the eyes. “You showed me I still have a heart. I don’t have to be the villain I’d turned myself into.

“When I told you I wanted to put you up in a condo and see you, that wasn’t my intention to have you waiting for me; waiting for money, waiting for me to use you. That was old me. How I dealt with past relationships. They’ve always been about me using them when I needed them.” He cringed at himself when he heard what he’d just said.

Stroking his arm to let him know it was okay and you weren’t running from him, you encouraged him to continue.

“I like who I am with you. And, it will be a learning process. I’m sure that I will still do and say things to fuck it all up, but I can’t let you go.”

Mouth agape again, you could only stare at him.

His confidence was back as he squared his shoulders and took your hands in his. “I can’t go back to South Korea, not without you. I don’t care if we stay here in Los Angeles, or even here in this apartment.” You noticed his grimace as he looked around but he quickly recovered to a face of sincerity. “I don’t care where I am, as long as I’m with you.

“I can understand if you don’t want me buying everything and doing everything for you. You’re a self-made woman and I respect that about you. But I do have money, and I don’t see why it can’t be used if it will help you.” He went back to pacing, seeming to have said something he hadn’t meant to.

“What’s wrong, Kihyun?”

He stopped and focused on you. “You’re not my personal prostitute or beck-and-call girl. I know you’re not.” Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer and looked into your eyes. “But I want you to be mine.”

Your heart beat sped and you felt a blush in your cheeks.

He lifted your chin with his fingers so you were looking him in the eye. “You said yesterday you wanted me to love you. Love you for you. I . . .” He took a sharp inhale, but it didn’t stop his lip from quivering. “I . . .” he tried again.

You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face. “I love you, too.”

Though he looked comforted, it didn’t stop another tremble of his lips and you saw tears sitting in his eyes. They closed when you leaned up and pressed your forehead against his.

“You don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready. We’ve only known each other a week after all.” You kissed the tip of his nose.

Sighing, he pressed away from you to look at you. “It’s not that.” His voice was squeaky and it pulled at your heartstrings. He’d finally slowed down his words. “When I’ve said it before in past relationships, I never meant it. Not like I mean it now.” The tears overwhelmed him as they now trickled down his cheeks. “I’m scared,” he breathed.

Carefully, you held his face in your hands. “You don’t need to be. I am yours.”

When he smiled, you couldn’t help yourself from giving him a soft, chaste kiss. He pressed back, and the two of you took the moment to just savor the feeling, the closeness. Pecking his lips a few times, you pressed one more smooch before leaning your forehead against his again.

Kihyun caressed your cheek. “I don’t deserve such a pretty woman.”

“Then you’re quite a lucky man.”

Six Months Later

You pulled your brand-new, sleek, cyan blue Dodge Viper in front of Honey Bear Records. Yes, you were a self-made woman, but you also needed a car. And with Kihyun offering to get you such a lovely one for passing your G.E.D., who were you to refuse?

Walking into a studio, Hyunwoo was sitting in the back of the room on a couch. He looked up when he heard your footsteps. “Hey, how’d the test in music production go?”

After retrieving the test in question from your bag, you handed it to him. His face instantly lifted. “Yeah! Look at you, big time college girl!” He gave you a high five then you plopped down on the couch next to him.

“How’s our boy doing?”

Both of you turned your attention to the front of the room. Jooheon was sitting in front of the sound board and recording equipment. Behind the laminated glass, Kihyun was in the zone, warming up his voice before the music started.

You couldn’t hide your smile as you watched him. He was so passionate as he got into the music. Then his lyrics started.

I can suddenly feel something has changed I am becoming an adult I don't hate myself Even when I see my weakness I tended to get anxious Thinking about me after a few years Rather than how I feel today I was like that at that time

I feel like I will miss those foolish Days, which made me work harder The days when I was young and cheerful And the heart that was pumping so fast after dancing hard I feel like the sky is beautiful nowadays

His voice cracked and he indicated for Jooheon to stop the music. Once he had a few swigs of water he kept repeating the note he couldn’t seem to get right.

Jooheon spun around in his chair toward you. “Queen! Tell me you aced the test!”

Getting up you handed it to him.

His face beamed when he looked at you. “That’s my girl.”

You nodded your head in the direction of Kihyun. “How many takes has he been doing for this one?”

“Just a few. You know he’s a perfectionist, so if it doesn’t sound the way he wants it, we start over.”

It was part of his passion for the music.

A mischievous smile appeared on Jooheon’s face. “You know, now that you’re here, I’m sure if he were to relieve some of that frustration, he’d be able to get his notes right.”

“Jooheon,” Hyunwoo warned, embarrassment causing him to blush.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that so?”

Hyunwoo got up and slapped the younger man in the shoulder. “Please excuse him. All this time in the studio has clearly deprived him of oxygen to the brain.” He pulled Jooheon from the chair and pushed him towards the door. “Go get some fresh air.”

Jooheon laughed and faced you. “I’m gonna get some coffee, you want your usual?”

“Yes please,” you couldn’t help but laugh with him. Once he was out of the room, Hyunwoo looked apologetic.

“Though I don’t agree with my partner’s exact suggestion,” he then motioned toward Kihyun, “I do think he could use a bit of a break and some words of reassurance.” The blush was still present as he bowed. “I’ll give you two some time.” He too left the room, leaving it to just you and Kihyun.

Knocking on the studio door, Kihyun looked a little surprised to see you.

“Hey,” he smiled. He looked through the glass and noticed the others were gone. “Where’d they go?”

“Coffee break. Jooheon heavily hinted you could use a release.”

His face turned red. “What did he say?”

You closed the distance between the two of you. “Oh, just that you might sound better if you let some of that tension go.”

The blush was gone and his confident power took its place. “What did you have in mind?”

Smiling, your hand reached down to touch him through his pants. “I was thinking blow job.”

A smirk formed on his face. “And what if you screaming my name will relieve the tension?”

Before you could answer, the studio door flung open. Both you and Kihyun watched as Jooheon walked in, hand over his eyes. “I forgot I had the headphones and the sound still on. Don’t mind me.” It was very clear he wasn’t at all ashamed of interrupting and he even peaked through his fingers at one point, trying to catch any action. When he dropped the wireless headphones in the chair, and made sure all the sound equipment was off, he left. Kihyun and you burst out into laugher. You each laughed so hard you had to sit on the ground until you calmed down.

When you were both back to normal breathing patterns, Kihyun moved so his back was against the wall and pulled you into his arms. He played with your hair as you played with his fingers. The laughing worked to get rid of his stress.

Looking up, you smiled at him. “The song is very pretty from what I heard.”

He smiled back at you. “You think so?”

“I’m very biased, of course, but yes.”

His grin widened. He looked from your eyes to you lips then bent down to kiss you. The musk of his cologne mixed with his sweet tastes made your head spin. You kissed him back until you felt breathless. If it were up to you, you’d never stop kissing him. When he bit against your lip, you couldn’t help the low groan it caused.

Shifting your position, you turned to better face him, crawling in his lap. You deepened the kiss as you breathed him in and he slid his tongue into your mouth. Your new spot in his lap allowed you to grind against him, feeling his growing hardon against your growing wetness.

Kihyun’s hands snaked up your back, under your shirt to unhook your bra.

You jumped when your phone vibrated in your back pocket. He grabbed it for you and you both looked at the screen. It was Jooheon.

He put it on speaker. “Wasn’t it your idea for her to help me blow off some steam?”

Jooheon laughed. “She ordered a coffee. I just wanted to know if it was safe to bring it in to her.”

“Unless you want to clean up the love stain we’re about to make, I suggest you and Hyunwoo leave the building. Now.”

There was stunned silence on the other line, and before Jooheon answered, Kihyun hung up.

He then held you as he again shifted your positions so that you were on your back and he hovering over you.

“A love stain, huh?” you chuckled.

“A big one.” He brushed hair from your forehead.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t have a condom.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Well, I’ve changed my profession. I no longer have need to carry around a buffet of safety.”

The sad, puppy pout you gave made you crack up with laughter. You reached into your bra and retrieved a condom. Old habits die hard.

His pout was replaced with a smirk. “You’re going to be punished for that.”

Matching his smirk, you replied. “I better be.”

Kihyun nipped at your nose. His face switched from playful to serious. “I love you.”

Your hand reached to caress his cheek. “I love you, too.”

He leaned down to kiss you again. It was short lived as you pushed him away. “If Jooheon and Hyunwoo are going home, how are you gonna finish recording when we’re finished?”

“Didn’t you have a production test today?”

“ . . . Yeah?”

“Then maybe you can give it a shot.”

You pushed him off so you could sit up. “Are you sure? I’m still unsure about some of the equipment. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

Brushing a stray hair behind your ear, he gave an earnest smile. “The best way to learn is trying. I can help, too.”

He sounded certain, but you weren’t as confident as he was. “I just don’t want to mess it up. I know how you like everything. I don’t want to get lost in the equipment.”

He grinned wider and shook his head. “We’ll figure it out together. I promise to be on my best behavior and not snippy like I am with Jooheon. And if we get lost in the equipment, I do recall getting lost in Hollywood is how we both ended up here.”

Finally convinced, you smiled back at him. “Okay. But now I’m not in the mood to create a love stain with you.”

He jokingly groaned, but you could tell he was also more interested in getting back to the music. Helping you up, you both left the sound booth and sat in front of the recording equipment. Luckily, you did know a good portion of what to do, and what you didn’t Kihyun handled.

With everything ready, he went back into the other room. You spoke into the intercom. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

Shaking his head while chuckling, he gave you a wink. “Let’s do it.”

The End

#kihyun #yoo kihyun #monsta x #kihyun fics #kihyun scenarios #monsta x fics #monsta x scenarios #kpop fics #kpop scenarios

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tinfairies · 1 year

Note

Okay, but hear me out: Aemond X Sister!Reader. It's modern-day and, instead of being royalty, the Targs are one of those families that pretty much unofficially own the entire city/country. Also, this wound up being a damn novel and I'm so sorry.

There's no real set family business, but most of the family works in business, legal, or political fields.

There may also be some ALLEGED mob connections, but shh, we don't need to talk about that.

ANYWAYS, on to the good stuff.

So Reader is what the general public calls one of the "good" Targaryens; sweet, gentle, not overly prone to destructive outbursts or ending up on the front page of the local tabloid, you get the idea.

However, there's something the public doesn't know: sweet, innocent little Reader has a MASSIVE older brother fetish (honestly, it may even border on being an obsession)

Whatever it is, Reader's never acted on it and had thus far gotten by with just fantasies.

However, that all changes one night.

The house is empty, everybody but Reader has something going on, so she's all alone in the great big Targ-Tower mansion.

Naturally, she decides to spend the night "petting her kitty" if you catch my drift.

Eventually, she's spread-eagle on her bed, clothes flung off to some forgotten corner of her bedroom, absolutely going to town on her clit. She has some toys laid out at the foot of her bed that she plans on using later on but, at that moment, she's just going to enjoy her own hands. After all, she has all night, why bring out the big guns right away when she can go slow and really savour things instead?

At first, she's biting her lip, trying to keep quiet since she's so used to having like fifteen-thousand people milling about in the adjacent rooms but, eventually, she realizes "hey, I'm home alone, I can be as loud as I want."

And loud she gets. The sounds coming from her room are downright obscene, but she doesn't care, it's not like there's anybody around to hear them.

Or so she thinks. Little does she know that Aemond has just returned home from wherever he was and, despite the entryway being on a completely different level of the house from Reader's bedroom, he can hear everything.

He knows he shouldn't, but she's just making the sweetest little noises. And besides, there's no harm in him simply watching for a bit. He'll be quiet, she won't even know he's there.

So Aemond sneaks upstairs and, much to his surprise, Reader's door is wide open. It's almost as if his sweet little sister is begging for an audience. An audience that, upon seeing her flushed form writhing on the bed, he is more than happy to provide.

Reader doesn’t even realize that Aemond’s there. He’s there in her fantasy, of course, but she’s so far gone in her own imagination that she doesn’t notice him ACTUALLY standing in her doorway.

Though, things change when the sounds Reader’s making change from unintelligible whines and cries, to clear moans of Aemond’s name.

Aem decides to make himself known at this point, and poor Reader just freezes like a deer in headlights when she sees him.

However, Aemond is not fazed and, after a moment of deliberation, he fully enters the room, makes his way over to Reader’s bed and, once there, he gently removes the hand that was on her pussy and replaces it with his own.

Aemond just teases her for a bit; his thumb barely brushing against her clit, his fingers dipping into but never truly entering her hole, all while whispering absolute FILTH into her ear.

It isn’t until Reader’s a whimpering mess that Aemond decides to actually slide his fingers into her. He starts with one finger, then moves up to using two. Three fingers seem to be Reader’s limit for now, but Aemond isn’t complaining, especially not when he has his precious little sister cumming all over his hand.

His name sounds so lovely falling from her lips, like a hymn that he wants to hear over and over again.

Aemond starts kissing his sister everywhere, slowly working his way down her body as he presses his lips against every exposed piece of skin he can reach.

Once he reaches the apex of her thighs, he reaches up and guides her head so that she's looking down at him, making direct eye contact as he slowly, oh so slowly, licks up and down her dripping folds before throwing all restraint out the window and absolutely burying his face between her thighs.

Aemond feasts on his sister as if she's his last meal, a sweet little forbidden fruit that tastes like heaven. His hair's a mess, and his mouth and chin are probably covered in a mixture of his sister's wetness and his own saliva but, at the moment, Aemond couldn't care less about anything that isn't his sister's cunt.

Quite literally nothing could pull Aemond away from his spot. Fire, global apocalypse, the entire family coming home, he won't budge for any of it. Even when Reader climaxes, he just keeps going and going and going.

Surprisingly, Aemond keeps his clothes on the entire time, far more focused on his sister's pleasure than his own. He doesn't actually fuck her that night, but he does use a few of her toys on her (perhaps with a bit of teasing, something along the lines of how a certain dildo's making her squirm, yet Aemond's "much bigger," hmm?)

But yeah, that's all I got. Actually, that's a lie, I have a whole other idea involving a penthouse window, but this is it for today, sorry if it’s horrible, okay love ya byeeee ❤️❤️❤️

Ooo stunnin! ❤️

#tin talks

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onceuponastory · 2 years

Text

come with me - nick fowler x reader

Plot: Nick Fowler's assassination mission was going so well...until he found Y/N hiding in the closet. Pairing: Assassin!Nick Fowler x Female!Reader Warnings: As always, 18+ Only Please. Mentions of death, murder, guns, shooting, graphic mentions of blood, gore and violence. Also kidnapping, manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome and dubcon. And of course, Nick Fowler because that man is a warning all on his own. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: I rewatched The 355 a few days ago, and I wanted to write a small thing for Nick Fowler, cause I love that asshole so much.

This is not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own. Also, thanks to @yarnforbrains for helping me out with the ending!

Sinking into the soft duvet of the bed, Nick Fowler keeps a steady, trained eye on the door in front of him as he waits for his target to return home. Nick runs his fingers along the gun in his pocket. And then he can finally silence him for good.

Becoming an assassin wasn’t Nick’s first choice for a job. But since he was outed as a double agent, the CIA unsurprisingly didn’t want him to stick around, and most work prospects dried up soon after. In all honesty though, Nick enjoys being an assassin. Deep down, he knows he's at his best when he’s causing fear and destruction, and when blood stains his hands and his suit. Becoming an assassin was second nature to him. All things considered, maybe he should’ve been one from the beginning.

As Nick waits, he glances around the room. It’s a nice room, in a normal house in an ordinary neighbourhood. And now, Nick is about to destroy everything. The target today is some dumbass who kept talking about seeing something that he shouldn’t have. So Nick was called in to deal with him, and to shut him up for good. Just like he always does.

Soon, Nick hears a car pulling up, followed soon after by the front door slamming shut. Nick takes the gun out, his finger resting on the trigger. It’s showtime.

After a few minutes, the target enters the room and spots Nick. Nick watches him curiously as the man tries to figure out what he’s doing in his house. He looks like a kid, someone who can’t be much older than his twenties. And now he’s about to die. Nick doesn’t care about that, though. He couldn’t shut up, so it’s his own fault that Nick got called in to make him shut up.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man frowns.

“Nobody of your concern.” Nick replies. “I’ve heard a lot about you though.”

“Listen, I don’t care if you’re a-” Nick sighs, rolling his eyes.

“God, you are annoying, aren’t you? I can see why my client wanted you dead so much.” Nick cocks the gun and shoots him without another word. The shot splatters the walls with a deep crimson and brain matter. The target’s body falls, landing with a thud at Nick’s feet. Nick stares down at the body with a shrug. By this point, being confronted by so much death has become second nature to him, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelid anymore.

All he’s thinking about is going home and washing all this blood off of his nice suit.

But as Nick turns to leave, a whimper suddenly sounds from the closet. Even though the sound is soft, it still piques Nick’s interest. Slowly and silently, he moves towards the closet, wondering what he’ll find. And how he’ll deal with it. As he opens the doors, light streams in, illuminating the form of a woman. She’s huddled in the corner, and her body is shaking like a leaf. Warily, she glances up at Nick, her eyes going wide in fear like a doe’s. Nick grins and kneels down beside her, watching her shaking form.

She’s gorgeous. It’s such a shame he has to kill her.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” He whispers.

“Please…don’t kill me.” The woman begs. “I saw nothing, I swear.” Nick leans in, tracing along her jawline with his gun, smirking as she quivers in fear even more. He can’t get over how stunning she is when she’s so afraid. Of course, Nick knows that a woman shaking in fear shouldn't be so hot to him. Especially when he’s the one causing her fear.

But then again, Nick never cared too much about his moral standpoint.

“I’m afraid I have to, sweetheart. You might tell someone what you saw, and I can’t take that risk.” He sighs. Something resembling a cry and a squeal sounds from the woman, and she curls herself into an even tighter ball. The sound of her fear makes her even more attractive to Nick. “If it helps, you’re the first witness to my killings that I’ve had to get rid of. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s over nice and quickly. And I’ll try not to damage your pretty face too much.” He whispers. Unsurprisingly, this does little to quell the woman’s fears.

“Please! No.” she begs through her tears. “I won’t say anything! I swear!”

“Despite how much I love the sound of you begging, I told you already, I have to do it.” Nick snaps slightly, cocking his gun. The sound makes the woman’s fear and tears increase, and she braces herself for the impact. Yet before he pulls the trigger, an idea enters Nick’s mind first. One that sounds incredibly promising. “Actually…I have an idea. One that means I don’t have to kill you.” The woman frowns, peering up at him with curious eyes.

“You don’t?” Nick shakes his head with a smirk.

“I don’t.” He repeats. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Y/N.” She murmurs.

“What a beautiful name.” The woman nods warily. Nick knows she’s confused about why she’s sparing her, but it’s okay. She’ll know soon enough. “What are you doing here, anyway? How do you know him?” He presses further, gesturing to the body still bleeding out on the carpet outside. When Y/N doesn’t reply, still too scared to answer, Nick chuckles. “Go on. It’s okay.”

“He’s um. He was my boyfriend. I found out he was cheating on me, so I came home early to confront him in case he had someone over. I heard you come in, so I hid in here.” She explains, still refusing to meet Nick’s eyes. A girlfriend. Nick was never told about a girlfriend. What a pleasant surprise. Her voice sounds so timid, so upset. He sighs. A beautiful woman like her deserves someone to treat her well, not break her heart like that asshole.

Thankfully for her, Nick knows just the person she needs.

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you Y/N. My name’s Nick. Nick Fowler.” He lifts her chin with his fingers, tilting her face so she’s looking him in the eye. Big tears flow down her cheeks, and Nick sighs. “There’s no need to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

“What are you going to do to me?” She asks, her body still shivering.

“You’re coming home, with me.” He grins, and Y/N frowns.

“What? No. I can’t. This is my home.”

“It was your home.” He corrects. “But if you’d like to join your boyfriend and have your brains splattered all over the wall and floor too, then be my guest.” Nick shrugs, holding up his gun again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, especially not after you just killed my boyfriend!” Y/N tries to pull herself free, but Nick keeps a firm grasp on her chin, causing her to cry out in pain.

“Yes, you are.” Nick insists, hissing through his teeth. When she still tries to fight him, Nick sighs frustratedly. With his free hand, Nick pushes open the closet doors, showing the body of Y/N’s boyfriend still laying there. A pool of deep crimson surrounds him. Harshly, Nick twists Y/N’s face around so she can see her boyfriend’s body. Y/N’s face goes pale, and she screams. Nick immediately places his hand over her mouth, muffling her cries. “If you don’t shut up and come with me…you’ll end up like him. And trust me, even though it would be terrible to put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours, if I have to do it, I will.” Y/N stops struggling then, and Nick grins. “Good girl. Shut up and do as you’re told. Now, let’s go.”

A Few Years Later.

“Darling, I’m home.” Nick calls, dropping his bag and jacket by the front door.

“In here.” Her voice sounds. “Dinner is almost ready.” Nick goes to greet her. Y/N turns around, and a big smile grows on her face once she sees Nick.

“Hello handsome. How was your day?” She asks, pecking his cheek. Nick groans.

“Don’t ask. I could do with a-“ Y/N passes him a bourbon glass before he can even finish his sentence, and he grins. “Thank you, darling.” Y/N’s eyes flicker down to his shirt, and at the little spots of crimson staining it. A strange look crosses her face for a moment, almost as if she’s remembering the moment that led to her and Nick meeting. And the blood spots staining his shirt back then. However, it’s gone pretty soon after, and her face is fixed in a smile again.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” He gives her a small kiss, and Y/N moans happily. “Aren’t you glad you came with me?”

For a moment, something else flickers within Y/N’s expression. A look of lost happiness for her past life. What she could’ve been. However, once again, it’s gone pretty soon after, and replaced with another wide smile.

“Of course I am.”

TAGLIST: @buckysboobs, @ccmarvelxx, @bearly-koalafied, @xoxoloverb, @simplybombshell, @phildunphyisadilf, @loudchaosjellyfish, @littleeuphoriaelf, @livstilinski, @hallecarey1 and @charmed-asylum.

#nick fowler x reader #nick fowler #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #nick fowler x female reader #the 355 #nick fowler the 355 #fanfiction #fanfic

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