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tteokdoroki · 4 months

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THE PERFECT SHADE OF PURPLE - suguru geto.

✩ — about. “i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.” suguru geto never thought he’d end up here. in a new city with a new job and a new life. he never wanted to lose his little sister to his best friend. he never wanted to replace her. never wanted to fuck someone who looked exactly like her. but here you are, and geto can’t help but want you the same way he wants her. he just had to get that off his chest… ( 11.4K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! dark content, nsfw, smut, hurt-comfot, open ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au (read part one here !), bakery!au, italics mean the characters are speaking in japanse, situationships, co-dependency ( on suguru geto ), manipulation, gaslighting, praise, use of oni-chan/nii chan/imouto, fingering (f!receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, creampies, bilingual!geto, japanese speaking + fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hehe hi everyone!!! pls im reposting this again :( it was written as a gift for @todorosie and the very idea spawned from her love for geto in my AITA gojo fic !! it’s sort of a continuation and set in the same universe so you might need to read to understand the plot. special thanks to @antizenin for beta reading n helping me come up with some ideas !! enjoy guys, mwah mwah - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

look, i know it’s bad… but my adopted sister and i were always close. she looked up to me and needed me for everything, up until a month ago when she betrayed my trust and fucked my childhood best friend. i got a therapist, went low contact and moved to a completely different country in order to avoid w everything. but nothing helped, i think of my sister every day and sometimes… i picture bad, dirty things. recently i met this girl, she’s the spitting image of my adoptive little sister. they look the same, act the same — i think i’ve started falling for her. i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.

TLDR: i’m fucking and have feelings for a girl that’s a carbon copy of my adopted younger sibling.

the city of new york is meant to be the city of dreams.

at any given moment, your fate can change. anything can happen here, you can make it big and live out your life or you can go home and lead one of regret. suguru geto feels like neither are true for him. the bustling city and flashing lights, busy concrete streets and honking taxis bring the dark haired man anything but joy. suguru isn’t happy here, in new york, despite all the wonders that it holds — irregardless of the grand job opportunity he has waiting for him just around the corner.

suguru geto had the chance of a lifetime to develop his career as a criminal defence lawyer in one of the most opportune cities in the world. his dream since he was old enough to understand the wrongs of the world.

but that’s merely not enough to keep him content, to make him want to stay.

he doesn’t want to go home either, he’s sure he would hate himself for thattoo. it would be a waste of suguru’s talents to return to japan prematurely, with its nauseating air and sense of betrayal that follows him everywhere he goes. home is supposed to be where one is happiest and safest — it’s where his family is, where he was raised and first opened his eyes. but for the lawyer, japan no longer serves to comfort him and only constantly reminds the man of his little sister, who’d fucked his best friend just a month prior.

that very instance was enough reason for him to leave the country in the first place — he had to get out, had to escape the very fact that haunted him day and night.

like any other adult with a shit load of trauma, suguru invests in the best therapist his money can buy — especially now that he can’t spoil is younger sister with it. the older woman with her stuffy office, beady eyes and chipped painted nails had prescribed the man with a short break, a change of pace from the life he was used to, to give himself the grace and time to heal from the heartbreak of losing the two most important people in his life. his best friend, satoru gojo, and his adoptive little sister.

he had no idea where gojo was now, thirty days later, and suguru knew his little sister had probably moved out of their hometown by now to kick start her career. so even if all of that meant that suguru geto could go home…he wouldn’t. he would use the vastness of new york to give himself the breathing room he needed to heal, fill his bloodstream with fresh oxygen so that it would clot and cover up his fresh wounds of betrayal, turn scabs into scars and let him slowly recover.

at least that’s what his therapist had told him to do — in the suffocating purple walls of her office.

yet, so far, suguru’s escape to new york hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. every corner of the city painfully reminds him of the hole in his heart, where his innocent little sister should be. after her graduation he’d planned on taking her here as a reward for all of her hard work, but now, suguru faces his own bitter reality — every landmark has her face etched into its side, skyscrapers and their glass windows refract the light of her smile, while famous dinner spots tie to the endless list of reservations she’d reminded suguru to make. hell, even his daily routine of hailing infamous yellow taxi cabs reminds him of her precious excitement to go.

new york was a city big enough for both geto siblings, but too large for just the one.

it’s a wonder that suguru has been able to live without his sister for this long — it’s only been a month but he’s spent his entire life looking out for her. protecting her. he hardly knows what to do with himself now that he has all this extra time.

suguru knew that she was way too dependent on him, it was bad — he was painfully aware of that. but he couldn’t help it, she needed someone to protect her and nurture her, she needed someone to teach her about the dangers of the world. she needed her big brother. perhaps if the dark haired man had been less protective of his sister and given her some sort of independence… then maybe he wouldn’t miss her so much, he wouldn’t have lost his best friend as collateral damage in the process. he would still have the two of them, and she could be happy with gojo.

the guilt of what ifs and what could have beens tirelessly weigh down suguru’s heart at the thought — he caused this. this rift between the soul-bonded pair. if he had raised her better, let her spread her wings like a free bird, then he would still have her in his life.

at this point, he’s realised something dire. suguru can’t live without her, his little sister. her bright eyes in the morning and the sweet tune to her voice when she calls out for him — it’s weird, it’s bad…how much he misses and needs her. borderlining on strange, it’s only now that suguru realises how unhealthy their dynamic as siblings had been. how reliant he was on his baby sister to need him. it should have never been that way, he shouldn’t need her so desperately to function. keeping her under such a close watch was probably what drove her into the arms of satoru in the first place.

the concrete wilderness of suguru’s new home provides no relief from these epiphanies and the chambers of his heart that slowly seem to be dying without his sister. instead he feels trapped in his own addiction, as if he’s going through the withdrawal after dependency on drugs.

whenever suguru feels immense waves of guilt, like a tsunami that might pull him under and replace the clean air in his lungs with the murky water of his own sour thoughts and emotions; whenever he misses home a little too much; whenever he feels like the world his crashing down on him once more — his therapist and her purple nails tapping against her clip board comes to mind. she tells suguru to take a walk, especially when he’s overcome with thoughts of the situation back in december. when his chest feels too tight and feels like picking up the phone and calling his sister before he’s ready to.

so geto does just that, lugging on his winter coat as he prepares to take a walk downtown while the sun sets.

suguru tends to think that his therapist is full of shit.

she believes in the colour purple, she believes that there is purpose and meaning in concepts like colours that are based on fact and science. the light reflects, and people see colour.

as she had explained to the man in an hour long session just two weeks ago, purple is supposed to be the colour of healing; though to suguru, purple makes him feel sick. it’s everywhere, in the lavander-ish off-white walls of his new york-rented apartment, the flowers in the stalls on his way to work, the skies at night. suguru thought he was a rational man, that he was calm and collected — able to see the reasons behind everything he comes across…but he still doesn’t understand the significance of colours like purple and its connection to healing.

all suguru knows is that he did like the pretty hollow shade that formed a ring around satoru’s bright blue eyes. of course, after having the shit beaten out of him for touching what belonged to suguru. for corrupting his innocent baby sister.

aside from that, tonight’s walk is mostly uneventful, full of couples getting ready for date night and business people heading home to their happy families for the night. suguru despises them, strangers on the street minding their own business. he hates these passer-bys for their happiness, a joy he can no longer experience. going home. it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

he misses his family. the warmth and love from his mother, the poor jokes from his father… the looks of adoration and hugs from his sister. it’s not fair. he shouldn’t have had to give that up because of the selfish actions of his ex-best friend.

suguru decides to turn back and head for his apartment when the street lamps start to flicker and turn on.

however, on his commute, a familiar scent tickles his senses and brushes over his nose. the man finds himself following, enchanted by rich flavours that he recognises from his youth — sweet red bean and spicy curries overlay the city’s natural smells and suguru makes an attempt to track it down. like a fool, he sprints after the scent like a hound dog tracking a hunt and stops a few strides short of a quaint japanese bakery with a set of deep indigo flowers climbing up it’s worn down exterior.

suguru recognises the flowers to be shobu. irises.

standing before the sliding doors, geto inhales, overwhelmed and overcome with emotion. the sweet smell triggers memories of home and how his parents would take him and his sister out to get treats when they were small. how that became a tradition for the geto siblings when they were old enough to go out on their own.

he remembers how his sister would beg him for a box of sakura mochi every time they went, and how he would so easily relent — even if it meant spending all of that week’s pocket money. suguru is so carried away with his thoughts that he hardly notices himself taking steps into the bakery, or lining up at the counter, or you.

calling him up to the counter.

you’re a pretty girl. that’s the first thing suguru notices. your eyes are beautiful, a deep brown that reminds him of roasted chestnuts and warm chocolates, your face is round with a soft edge of youth. the uniform that you wear hugs every dip and curve of your body and the braids you have are lengthy and black, perfectly framing your face. when you speak, your voice carries gentle dulcet notes that make suguru’s heart flutter — like music to his ears.

you are one thousand percent suguru geto’s type and everything about you, this little bakery attendant, reminds suguru of his younger sister.

right then and there, everything clicks into place for him.

“sir, can i get you anything?” you ask him kindly, not wanting to push or scare away a potential customer. nor pressure the handsome stranger, since he’s holding up your line. “sir?” you repeat, finally garnering his attention after squirming under his intense stare.

not that you mind being stared at by him, for this particular customer is right up your alley.

from his milky skin, desperate to be marked, to his lengthy dark tresses that you’re dying to pull at and tug. his jaw is angular, sharp enough to the point where you fear you would cut yourself should you have the chance to touch it. despite the razor edges to his features, he looks kind…almost wistful, at most. a quality that does nothing to calm the hungry flame catching light in your lower tummy.

the two of you remain admiring one another until a customer in the queue clears their throat impatiently — causing both of you to jump.

“s-sorry,” geto mumbles the apology quickly, his pale cheeks tinged with a subtle pink despite how hot they feel. he’s suddenly become all too aware of the line that he’s holding up. one that he’s not even supposed to be in, since he’d walked in here on instinct anyway. his dark, narrow eyes sweep the counter in search for something, anything to order so that he doesn’t look like a complete idiot in front of you or the rest of the customers.

more specifically, yourself.

“i would recommend the sakura mochi,” then, like an angel sent from the heavens, you try your luck in conversing with suguru in japanese. his nervous and skittish gaze shoots up to your face, shoulders sagging in relief and familiarity. you truly are like a piece of home. like his little sister. suguru likes that more than a normal man should. “they’re popular amongst our customers, it’s taken our owner years to perfect her recipe with the ingredients here. especially since leaving japan.”

suguru grins and nods, spotting the dessert he’s so accustomed to buying in the display cabinet. his heart lurches, yearning for his little sister. “these?” he whispers to you, the syllables of his native language curling around his tongue naturally. “they look just like the ones from home.”

there’s a sparkle in your eyes when he responds, and you continue to speak to him in sugary tones. “they taste just as goodtoo, i promise!”

“then, i’ll take a box.”

“how many? they come in boxes of four, eight and sixteen pieces.”

“just the four, please.”

taking your tongs from the metal counter behind the cabinet, you fish out four of the best pieces of sakura mochi and tentatively place them into a pre-folded cardboard box for the handsome customer. as he dives deep into his pocket for his card to pay, you quickly add an extra piece — uttering something about it being on the house under your breath.

the action leaves both of you bashful and suguru taps his card on the machine you’ve set up for him to pay. “ah, thank you…” suguru searches for your name in the candy scented air and you tap your badge with a cute acrylic nail to draw attention to your name which he breathes out in a husky tone, failing to mask its curious lilt as he returns to english.

“no worries, have a good evening, sir.” you giggle shyly, still managing to bid him farewell.

on his way home, suguru can’t help but to replay the entire interaction in his head over and over again. in his brief three minutes of meeting you, you’d managed to fix the hole in his heart, help it beat properly again. you’re just like her, his little sister, and that is a dangerous fact.

he reaches his apartment with a flushed face, feeling a little flustered, but a lot better than he was before the start of his walk.

after work, a few days later, geto finds himself back in front of the bakery, working up the courage to go inside and see you.

no matter how hard he tried and how much of his work he tried to throw himself into — suguru couldn’t get the vision of you out his head. your saccharine laugh haunted him as he reviewed case files, your timid smile chased him through his lunch break and your small act of kindness (speaking with him in Japanese) has him all worked up and blushing by the time he’s able to clock out for the day.

the dark haired man feels insane, he knows that this is weird — projecting the image of his adoptive sister onto you, but like a man on drugs he can’t seem to quit. he needs to get his fix. he needs to see you again. entering the bakery once again is like stepping into a new domain, and suguru damn near forgets his simple plan to talk to you. order sakura mochi, say thank you, and leave. while he waits in the queue, his courage mounts in slow stacks and anxiety fades, but by the time he’s up front and face to face with you again — suguru’s brain is completely wiped of every word he was going to say.

“ah, it’s you again!” you greet him in japanese once more, instinctively reaching to brush your braids out of your face in order to look more presentable to the handsome stranger who’s been plaguing your thoughts as well. suguru thinks you’re cute, regardless of the rice flour smeared across your cheeks and the various mysterious (though surely tasty) stains that decorate your uniform. he even finds it endearing, the way that you share the same nervous gesture of playing with the ends of your braids like his little sister. “i was just wondering when you were going to come in from the… mmm, cold? you’ve been standing and… uh! staring from out there for a while.” you continue to tease the man warmly in his native tongue, choosing your words carefully and avoiding eye contact with him while you prep the tongs for his order. “what can i get for you today?”

so much for not humiliating himself in front of the pretty girl. “i’m sorry… i’ll just take some sakura mochi again,” suguru begins, this time in english to spare you the trouble of overthinking everything that you say. “i was trying to figure out how to do this,” he places a wad of cash on the counter while you prepare his order. your chocolatey eyes blow wide, sweet glazed lips parting softly at the mere sight. you’re sure there’s enough money in the stack to cover an entire week’s worth of your wages and if a stranger can just give away such a large amount… it makes you wonder what he’s even doing at a humble place like this. “it’s a tip from last time. i never got to thank you.”

“oh… i was just doing my job!” you stammer out politely and prepare to reject the tip, but suguru refuses to let you refuse his gift — forcefully pushing the ‘tip’ over the edge of the glass. he really couldn’t help but to give the money to you, hardly fighting the urge to spoil you with cash like he would with his little sister. besides, the man earned more than enough to drop it on you without putting a dent in his pocket.

“you did more than that… just the simple act of kindness in conversing with me, a stranger, in japanese. that was nice of you.” suguru counters. “thank you. how did you know?”

you work on preparing a thin and white cardboard box for his order before walking along the dessert counter, followed by you. “i had a feeling, a lot of people come in here when they’re missing something,” he frowns and your eyes finally meet his. “someone.�� you breathe out, quietly. “i took a guess, figured you might have been from japan.”

“well, you were correct…”

your heart skips a beat at the sound of your name on his tongue as he says it. it’s so gentle it makes you feel faint and you’re absolutely charmed by a man you hardly know. “does that earn me brownie points…?” you trail off, wanting to capture his name.

“suguru.”

“ah, suguru meaning…” giving the man a once over, you drink in his tall frame and dark eyes, the small quirk to his plush lips as he smiles at you… and think. he’s the perfect man in every way, soft spoken and clement, even if he did have flaws or a dark secret — you would definitely choose to ignore it in favour of spending more time with him. once you find the word you’re looking for (and snap out of staring at the poor guy) you speak again. “excellence…it suits you.”

geto chuckles quietly in response, amused by your take away. “your name suits you too, darling. it’s just as beautiful as you.”

when you giggle and grow shy at his compliment — the honeyed melody only serves to remind suguru of his little sister once more. in that moment, he feels something bad and almost wretched stir in his gut just from watching you turn bashful over him. a dark thought in the back of his kind tells him to keep you, so that he can see you like this more often. it urges him to make you need him. like he would have with his little sister.

he’s starting to project, he’s sure, but you make it easy for him, with your puppy dog eyes and tiny little smiles. once geto’s order is packed, four little squares of sakura mochi wrapped in emerald green and brined sakura leaf — smelling of spring and red bean, he pays (with a hefty tip) and inspects the box. “you’ve got to stop giving me things for free, darling. we’ve only just met.” he chides fondly, scolding you like a child as if to make sure you won’t get in trouble with your job. he’s counted five mochi instead of four — just like last time. “won’t this hurt business?” he coos down at you — sending your body into a fit of shivers despite the warmth of your uniform.

“well, i’d consider us friends now that you’ve come specifically to see me. friends can’t give each other gifts?” you quip cheekily — much like suguru’s sister would. “you got to spoil me today, no one is going to notice an extra piece of mochi going missing.”

“friends it is,” surugu purrs right back in satisfaction, preparing to take his leave. cautiously, as though not to spook you like a hunter after a deer in the woods — he reaches over the counter to pat your head affectionately, internally pleased with the way you keen into his touch. “i hope to see my new friend around more often, then.” he hums with pride, and you nod your head eagerly.

like a puppy. like you want to please him.

it reminds geto all too much of his little sister — who only ever wanted to make the dark haired man proud.

over the coming weeks, suguru finds himself at the bakery more often than not. as though it’s a part of his daily routine.

he’ll take his walk after work, stop by and purchase some sakura mochi, before leaving you with another little gift. at first, his gifts started out as wads of cash in place of tips, then slowly turned to more materialistic things, items that you could hood or wear as if they were to geto’s his claim on you. like flowers, jewellery or clothes. things you couldn’t afford on your own, things he’d like to see you in, things his little sister would like to receive if they were still in contact with one another.

suguru knows that you can’t afford these things because you’ve let it slip over coffee and mochi that you rent the apartment above the bakery from the old woman who owns it and can barely afford the new york rent as well. he also learns that you were hired because of your ability to speak, read and write in Japanese.

as much as suguru has spoiled you in the last few weeks, you won’t let him pay your rent though, so tips have sufficed for now.

nowadays, the time spent moping around his apartment while mourning the relationships that he lost are spent growing increasingly obsessive over you. hours upon hours are wasted on thoughts of what gift he might buy you next — like more comfortable work shoes, an umbrella to get you home safe during the rain that just so happens to be designer. suguru spoils you under the guise of just being your friend — at least that’s what it is to you.

to him, he’s spoiling his baby sister. someone who is feeble and needs his help and his protection. he doesn’t tell his therapist any of this, of course, she would deem it unhealthy to see how much of his money and time he’s blown in a little cafe worker.

a cafe worker who’s important to suguru, who haunts his dreams with her perfect curves, and pouty lips whenever he brings you a small gift of his affections. “sugu,” you’ve resorted to calling him, just like his sister would. the nickname was the result of a time where you’d written his name on a coffee order, and customers complained you were taking too long. so geto had told you that you could call him ‘sugu’ instead. however, he would omit details on how badly it affected his brain chemistry …to hear someone he cared for call him that again. “you don’t have to get me an expensive gift just because i make you coffee and get you sweet treats.”

“it’s not just because you get me sweet things or make me coffee,” he had responded, leaning over the counter flirtatiously. “it’s because you do such a good job. you take care of me and my order every evening. make sure i get the best of the best. how could i not thank my sweet little barista.”

you wouldn’t say it, but he knew you liked the praise. he wondered if you felt as dirty and as thrilled as him during these little exchanges between the two of you. on that specific occasion, geto decided to gift you with a pendant, similar to the one he’d gotten his sister — only this time, a purple amethyst sits in its centre rather than the blue gem all too familiar to satoru gojo’s piercing eyes.

maybe this is what his therapist meant by healing. suguru is healing by getting over his sister and replacing her with you.

you are the one that haunts his dreams now, makes his cock stir inappropriately. another thing that suguru woulda never tell his therapist — is that sometimes when he really needed it, he would think of his little sister while fisting his cock into the night air. they weren’t really related, only by adoption so it wasn’t too wrong. sometimes he’d think of her getting railed by satoru, but nowadays he would think of you on his cock instead, calling out for suguru like you need him to function.

‘nii-san!’ - this and ‘please sugu! ’- that, each word uttered in his sister’s voice would quickly morph into yours — the quivering sweet sound always resembling his little sister’s when she cried. suguru, the dark haired man, imagined you would react the same. and more often than not, it was your face that he pictured when he was about to cum.

every single gift suguru got for you were the result of him dreaming about how much he needed you, someone to spoil and protect. someone to need him.

tonight, suguru is a little late for his daily visit to your bakery.

tonight, an important case at his firm had rolled in at the last minute and required attention before a preliminary hearing — but even his job couldn’t keep suguru geto away from you. when he arrives at the bakery, you’re still there, having left the doors unlocked for him to come inside.

tonight, there is no long line of customers out the door to build up the anticipation between you both, the lights have already been deemed and there’s not a trace of life inside of the bakery. aside from yourself, of course.

tonight, you’re on the closing shift instead of the owner’s grandson, choso. who you reassured suguru you weren’t interested in the first time they’d met. with gentle eyes that masked the dark haired man’s fury, geto had told you that he was the only man you’d ever need and you believed him — suguru had a charm for making people dependent on him.

the tiny silver bell stationed at the door jingles and signals geto’s arrival, but you hardly look up from your work — keeping your back to him while you sweep at nothing. you’re hiding the excitement that prickles down your spine, you’ve been waiting to get the man alone for weeks and now that you’re able to… you can hardly contain yourself.

“excuse me, uh…” he says your name so sweetly, as though the words on his tongue are laced with honey. pretending not to know you only makes tonight more thrilling. “are you open? do you have any sakura mochi to spare?” it’s only then that you whirl around to face suguru, your deep brown eyes still bright despite the dimness of the empty bakery — they sparkle with elation, and the plump curve of your lips spike up into an easy smile. you’ve been waiting, suguru notes, like a good little girl.

like a puppy waiting for her owner.

you’ve been waiting to see him.

anticipation claws at the air, sending ripples of kinetic energy into the space between you both — where suguru waits at the door and you stand front and centre in the middle of the room. his murky eyes slink down to your neck where one hand fiddles with the silver chain of your pendant, your nails tapping at the amethyst in its centre. in the same way his sister does when she’s nervous.

neither of you know what’s going to happen tonight, now that you’re finally alone.

“we have some in the back,” you swallow down the heartbeat in your throat you nod shyly when you finally speak. it’s weird how your body has started to react to suguru after weeks of getting to know him, being spoiled by him. the clothes you wear are now covered in traces of him, the jewellery you own is paid for by his dime. this…stranger, who you hardly know yet feel like you know everything about, has invaded every inch of your life… and you’re not even mad about it. you’d rather die than let this go. “i just need to lock up first. if you’ll give me a moment.”

you approach him cautiously, practically pressing your breasts against his chest as you reach behind the man to lock the doors he stands in front of. suguru can already tell that the mood today is different — full of hunger and expectations for something less polite than evening chatter and gift exchanges. his dark eyes follow your every move across the bakery like a wolf tracking the scent of prey.

“why don’t you come with me to the back? and if you don’t mind, could you carry a bag or two of that rice flour? it’s too heavy for me on my own?” you ask him after backing away with a glint in your eye. naughty, naughty. geto likes the fact that you’re asking him, that you need him and he can be your strong suguru.

“sure, anything for you.” he agrees a little bit too quickly, removing his work jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. suguru discards his tie as well — before lifting a sack of rice flower with ease. he pretends not to notice the way you ogle the bulge in his biceps as he does so.

“thanks.” you utter, leading the way to the back of the bakery.

once the two of you arrive in the kitchens at the back, you give suguru some time to set down the sacks of flour and retreat to the many shelves of sweet treats and baked goods that you’d prepared for your shift the next day. you’re sure choso, nor his grandmother, would mind if you stole a plate of mochi for the two of you to share. they trusted you enough, but you decide to forgo telling them for now.

“i was starting to think you weren’t coming.” you say as you set the desserts out on the metal table for him, suguru hates the guilt that he feels for leaving you for so long. “seeing you is the highlight of my week.”

“are you sure it’s not the gifts that i give you?” he teases, rounding the table to take a piece of mochi from the plate at its middle. he practically moans at the flavours of cherry blossom and crystallised sugar bursting across the palette of his tongue. and for a moment, his mind slips to other territories — wandering what you’d taste like as well.

“n-no! sugu!” for the first time that night, you break character, bashfully tucking your pretty face into your shoulder as if to hide it. “i, um… i genuinely like seeing you and when you come to see me. i-it makes me feel better. being around you. i feel safer and happier.”

putting his weight onto the metal surface, suguru leans forward and cocks his head to the side in faux curiosity. your answer is just what he wanted to hear. he finally has you where he wants you, like a sweet deer in a hunter’s trap. “is that so, darling?” you shake your head yes in affirmation. “well then, you’re awfully sweet.” geto takes to praising you, licking the traces of candy from his lips and maintaining eye contact while his hand dips into the pocket of his slacks for something. “i have a gift for you, little one.”

“oh yeah?” youtoo, take a bite out of the treats you’ve laid out, munching on them casually while keeping suguru under your watchful eye.

it’s only then that pulls out a matching item of jewellery, this time, a matching anklet to the item that sits heavy at your neck. the silver chain is dotted with tinier, purple gems. a showcase of suguru’s appreciation for how much you’ve healed him — a nod to how much better he feels around you too.

“you sure do love purple for me, sugu.” you joke, laughing incredulously at the expensive gift. “it’s beautiful, thank you.” you let him circle the table to take hold of your soft hips, lifting you onto the cool surface so that geto has some leverage to put the anklet on you.

after kicking out your left foot — suguru sinks to his knees before you, and something about the way he looks up at you, with his eyebrows drawn to the centre of his forehead and his milky cheeks slightly flushed, has your heart racing and your head all dizzy. “purple is supposed to mean healing. i’ve had a tough time, being away from japan and my family…” he begins quietly, his voice is calming with lilts and drops of hunger that slips through the cracks of suguru’s caring resolve. “but you’ve made it better,” one of his large hands encircles your ankle, lifting your foot higher so that geto is easily able to remove the strap of your mary-jane shoe and replace it with the chains of your new anklet. “ah… a perfect fit.” he announces in japanese, fixing the clasp.

the whole ordeal is intimate, inviting and you feel like you might slip under the surface of dark, dangerous waters if you’re not careful. you don’t know how to swim, but something tells you that suguru will keep you afloat. “anyways, little one…” suguru continues with his monologue, whispering his words against your talus bone at the base of your leg, where it meets your foot. “you wanting me here and needing me… it heals me.”

once he’s checked that the anklet is secure, suguru reaches a hand upwards, and brushes a thumb over the swell of your glossy bottom lip to swipe away a smudge of powdered sugar from the mocha. you will yourself to speak, but you feel as though you can’t even breathe. “i’ve…healed you?”

suguru stands up, towering over you now as he moves to suck the sugar from your lips off of his thumb. “of course, little one. what else do you think you’ve been doing this whole time?” his pupils dilate, obsidian black drowning out any other colour in his eyes while closes the gap between your heated bodies. your thighs instinctively jump apart to make room for him too, allowing him to loom over you even better — following the biological call of your hearts.

the world comes to a standstill when suguru’s lips finally meet yours in a sloppy yet coordinated kiss. while his movements are messy and hungry he remains gentle with you, as though you might break from too much force. the sweltering heat of his tongue swipes eagerly but not aggressively over the seam of your mouth, dying to be let in and taste the sugar that glazes your own pink muscle. his large, unusually soft hands grasp, and squeeze and pinch at your thighs, then the fat at your hips until his thumbs are tucked under your breasts, soothing circles over the point at which the fleshy mounds join up with your rib cage.

goosebumps break out across your skin from underneath your clothes and you feed suguru a needy little squeak when he finally breaks into your mouth, his tongue lapping circles at every crevice. you sound just like her, his angelic little sister, and he treats you so gently because he would never want to hurt her. suguru has always wanted to kiss his sister, but you’ll have to do. he likes you just as much as her.

it’s that sick and twisted desire to devour his younger sibling that fuels his next movements, along with the dulcet and darling sounds you make for him. carefully and between sticky lip locks, suguru pushes you onto your back — humming in amusement when it arches away from the cool metal of the silver counter. “s-sugu,” you whimper wetly, catching your breath while his smooches cascade down to your neck and his fingers work their way through the buttons on your uniform. your own take residence in his firm and broad set shoulders, as if to steady yourself. “i haven’t… i don’t have much experience with these things a-and they’ve not been the best—“

the dark haired man chuckles softly, the sound sending a spark of lust down your spine and causing you to arch up into him as he cages you against the table. “i’ll be gentle,” he tells you firmly, in a tone that smooths over the doubts in your mind and helps you to relax. suguru will take care of everything. “you don’t have to worry. i want this to be all about you feeling good, okay?” you nod in reply and suguru sucks his teeth. “i want a verbal answer, little one.”

“yes, sugu…”

he places a chaste kiss to your collarbones then, a pleased hum vibrating against your temperate skin. “good girl.”

the next few moments are a blur as suguru geto strips you down, kissing every inch of your exposed body with each article of clothing he removes from your shaky frame. all that he leaves you with are your soiled panties after reaching around the curve of your spine to unclip your bra with one hand. it’s all so nerve wracking and invigorating all at once, you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in for more.

between the chaos and rustling of his own clothes coming off, suguru presses two digits to your budding clit and your world tilts on its axis — he’s hardly touching you and yet you feel so good, especially when he rolls the swollen little nub between a thumb and forefinger. your nails form crescent moons against his shoulder in response.

you’re so overwhelmed by the patterns he traces over your clit, his name, his promises to you and your body, as well as the blood rushing to it — that you hardly notice geto’s descent on your body, the hot trail of kisses he leaves between the valley of your breasts and over your soft tummy. you just about manage to feel him over the haze in your brain when his lips hit the scalloped edge of your panties, and you jolt when the tip of his tongue forcefully traces the outline of your un-used, soaked hole from over the gusset of said garment.

the fabric darkens as your juices pool against it, mixed with the wetness of suguru’s tongue.

“will you let me pleasure you, little one?”

it’s not like you can say no (not that you want to), especially with the way geto manoeuvres your thighs to hang over the backs of his strong shoulders as he settles between your trembling legs. while he waits for your reply, he takes your wrist into his grasp and pulls one of your silk scrunchies from it — using it to tie back his luscious black hair.

you look down at him through your lashes with a painted expression of want and worry.

suguru pushes the pads of his thumbs into the globes of your ass against the cold table — massaging the flesh with mischievous eyes as your pussy gushes and leaks a fresh wave of nectar right down to the puckered ring between your ass cheeks. “just tying my hair back as a precaution,” he whispers, voice lowering an octave as his face slowly nears your clenching cunt. “i’m a messy eater…”

“a-ah! sugu!”

at first, suguru delivers a single lick to your awaiting pussy, drawing a stripe with his tongue between the length of your fat and sluice folds. then, when you cry out his name he can’t help but to latch his heated mouth onto your unattended sex, chuckling at the realisation of just how good you taste. it’s a natural flavour, with a twinge of sweetness suguru could have only hoped to imagine. he’s been waiting for this moment and to have you like this for weeks — to replace his prior daydreams of fucking his baby sister with you…and now he finally has the material to do so.

a sinful giddiness infiltrates geto’s bloodstream as he kitten licks at your pulsating mound — feeding in your arousal as it grows before inhaling deeply, nastily taking in your scent so that he can commit it to memory. “how does that feel?” he coos his words out as he hungrily nips at your sopping folds, rolling them raw between rows of perfect white teeth until you’re choking on a breath and your face scrunches adorably. “is that nice, love?”

a wet whimper lies on your kiss-swollen lips, and your hips naturally buck up to follow the warm trace of suguru’s mouth encompassing your sex. “f-feels so good! b-better than i… could have imagined,” you struggle to get out, gargling on each syllable while your chest heaves and arches away from the chilly table — giving suguru the perfect view of your bouncing breasts and only motivating him to pleasure you more. “f-fuck!”

if you were his baby sister, suguru isn’t so sure that you’d curse in front of him. she wouldn’t, she was too docile and sweet to utter a bad thing in his presence. but you, you’re both of those things and more — you lose yourself easily to the ecstasy in your veins; liquid pleasure spewing from your blistering hot cunt like a free-flowing river, painting suguru’s high cheekbones with your body’s riches. he feels blessed to be between your thighs, defiling the blossoming flower of your cunt with his eager mouth.

“you’re so…you’re so pretty when you gush like this for me. i want you to give me more.” his tongue darts along the length of your weeping slit, catching what you leak before it can go to waste on the icy table beneath your hot skin. drunk on your taste, suguru forces his flexible tongue past the tightness of your fluttering entrance. “can you do that for me?” he mouths, though whatever he says is slurred as he slowly begins to tongue fuck you.

“a-anything,” you say, breathing shallow and eyes beginning to grow teary. suguru’s tongue slips in and out of your creaming hole with rhythm, preparing you, using a pseudo sensation, for his fat cock. “anything for you! i wanna feel good for you. wanna please you!” he languidly strokes at your ribbed insides as a reward, chasing your honey nectar taste while your hips canter up and chase bud hismouth.

suguru intends to destroy you, own you and unleash all of his darkest fantasies onto you. he’s dreamed of ruining his adoptive little sister, making her cum all over him — it just so happens that you look and sound like her, you match every single one of his dreams about her, you make them all a reality. it’s only right that he pleases you and makes you see stars for needing him and relying on him so well.

he wonders if his sister would cry like you do, or if she would try to stave off her orgasm like you do. would she scream his name over the saliva pooling on her tongue like you do. eyes in the shade of deep, chocolate brown start to flutter shut at the sound of your desperate pleas as you writhe under suguru’s attention of your swollen pussy. your back sticks to the table and your thighs shake either side of suguru’s head, but he doesn’t relent on sucking the juices that cling to your pussy lips until all he can breathe is you.

his tongue twists happily against your lush walls, grasping at the essence that lines them.

“you’re doing well for me, little one, so well…” he praises you, knowing how close you’re getting. it’s in the way your body twitches with every suck to your hardened clit and the way you try to push him off of you. you need it so bad, you need him to make you cum. suguru thrusts deeper, harder and faster using his tongue — catching what dribbles from your tiny hole after it slips between your ass cheeks and pools in a puddle on the table. “i want to taste it. if you’ll cum for me, that’ll make me happy. so let me…”

suguru can’t even finish, dizzy on the taste of you like the buzz of a high. he could spend an infinite number of days between your legs. no matter how sore his knees get from kneeling between them — all he wants to do is slurp down everything that you give him, focus on making you reach pleasure of only heavenly limits in order to evade the guilt he feels. the one that causes knots to twist in geto’s stomach.

how could he do this?

how could he want this?

to fuck someone so reminiscent of his little sister.

to manipulate them into fucking him?

suguru’s name is hot on your lips, spiralling into the husky evening air. “come on, little one. cum for me,” meanwhile, his breath on your cunt makes your hips wiggle and hole spasm — a new wave of juices staining his face. it’s scent and taste coax the man into diving back into your sopping heat, the point of his nose bumping against your pleasure nub as if peeks out from beneath its hood.

“m-mph… m’kay,” comes your hushed whisper as you thread your fingers through the black roots of geto’s hair, keeping him pinned to your precious creamy core as you rut against his agile tongue. “f-feels funny!” you gasp and warble, filling the man’s mouth with your raw folds and liquid lust.

“hm?” geto hums lazily in acknowledgment, licking up to your clit so that he can replace his tongue with two digits. he works at your dripping hole, stretching it over them through the haze in his mind. he swoons at the thought of replacing those same digits with his cock next — they speed up with excitement, squelching and echoing throughout the room, overlapping with your high pitched breathy moans.

with your heart rattling against your ribcage, you can hardly fight off the urge building within your lower belly — your hips are frantic as they chase after the feeling and the burning high that crackles across your neurons. geto groans wickedly, feeling your sex spasm against his soaked lips and clench down hard on his fingers. it’s not long before he feels you succumb to your first orgasm. it washes over him in heavenly waves — clearing away his guilt and desire for his little sister while simultaneously drowning you under sinful pretences.

your entire body is racked with the case of the shakes, your eyes shooting back into the dark depths of your skull while white noise fills your ears and overlays the sound of suguru lewdly slurping at your release. speaking off, clear streams of your arousal spurt from your quivering cunt…and for the first time ever, you squirt. everywhere, all over the place, making such a mess that suguru is left gargling over everything that you give him and there’s a crude splatter as your juices hit the floor.

he doesn’t stop, however, licking you clean with his fingers continuing to curl languidly against your g-spot — over and over again.

“sugu p-please! s’too much,” you plead in the form of a heavy sob — but only god knows that you don’t want the man to stop.

“just one more for me?” he asks you tentatively, releasing your throbbing clit with a wet pop. suguru stands and you look up at him — noting the way his bangs stick to his cheeks from how wet you’ve gotten him. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of you either, dragging the tips of them along your overstimulated and stretched walls. “you can do it, and if you can i’ll reward you. how does that sound, little one?” he slows his pace just enough to only have the seat of his palm salaciously grind against your clit, not wanting to hurt you.

he wouldn’t want to hurt his adoptive sister if he ever had the chance to get her spread open like this.

your face is stained with mascara, your brown eyes big and wobbly and your braids are askew — but still, you’re the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, next to her. your fingers threaten to snap shut around his wrist, but with his free hand he forces the wet and doughy flesh back open, and with a few more thrusts if his fingers, nice and tantalisingly slow, you’re cumming again in another cute, clear stream — dowsing suguru’s hand in another wash of your cum.

leaning down, suguru’s lips tainted with your arousal lean down to meet your own — capturing them in a sweet kiss to help bring you back down to earth. “what’s your colour, darling? red for bad, yellow for okay and green for good. how do you feel?”

“g-green,” you mumble, keening into his touch and craving his affection. “i feel fine, my legs won’t stop shaking. i’ve never cum like that before…”

pride blooms like a wildflower in suguru’s chest.

“well, i don’t intend on stopping, little one,” brushing your braids back into place, suguru carefully pulls his fingers out of your stretched hole and swiftly sucks them clean. “your pretty pussy is so tiny, must not have been used properly,” the vulgarity of his words have you arching for more from suguru, and you’re lucky that he’s not done with you yet. “don’t worry, love. i’ll fix that.”

you’re weak in the knees when suguru manhandles you from the table onto the floor, making sure that you’re comfortable on your tummy — he even goes as far to nestle a bag of rice flour under your hips. you pretend not to notice the way his strength makes you flutter around nothing, smearing your juices onto the bakery floor.

“i’ve been holding back quite a bit,” he murmurs against your naked shoulder blades — the dark tresses of his hair tickling your skin. “so i might not last long.” you hear a belt clink before suguru kicks his slacks off and away, rewarding your patience with a kiss against your spine. “i hope it’s okay if i just give you my all.”

from this position, it’s easy for suguru to picture his younger, adopted sister instead of you — he’s dreamed of having her present for him like this countless times, but it doesn’t compare to the way it feels having your hot body underneath him like this. your ass is so soft and pliant in his hands as he drags your hips up a little higher. another hand grasps at the hardness of his cock that’s been dripping and aching ever since geto first got his mouth on you.

with stuttering hips, he positions himself at your needy entrance, chuckling in approval when you attempt to wiggle back on him — just as hungry for this as your lover is. both of you hiss as his veiny shaft comes into contact with your sticky folds, suguru using the remnants of your orgasms to slick himself up again and make it easier for you take all of him. you can’t see him, but the dark haired man’s cheeks are tinged pink with pure desire — his gaze turning woozy as he looks from your gaping hole to his cockhead, tapping it against your souse entrance a few times for good measure.

fuck a condom, he thinks, if given the opportunity — he would have fucked his sister rawtoo.

“whatever you give me, i-it’ll be enough for me, sugu,” you sniff, fisting the floor in anticipation — laying your hot, tear streaked cheek against its cool surface. “t-thank you for treating me so well.”

“i promise,” geto heaves, words a little too rushed and eager. “i’ll make you feel so good, so fucking…h-hah—“ without warning, he thrusts all the way inside of you with his hips driving all the way forward until his pelvis is flush against the curve of your ass. geto is chubbier than you thought he would be, and just the right length — plugging you full. every vein wrapped around his shaft presses up against your most sensitive pleasure spots, and he’s weighty against your gummy unused walls.

suguru’s breath prickles at shell of your ears as he collapses on top of you, all of his weight keeping you pinned to the cold hard floor. “can i move?” he lets out a wavering gasp, fighting the instinct to fuck down into you. your cunt ripples around him deliciously, the heat from your body making him drowsy. “you need to be fucked, little one. need someone to stretch out your tight pussy… i can do that for you. if you let me…”

he hates the part of his brain that wonders if his baby sister was this tight when gojo fucked her.

“i want you to,” you slur gently, purposely squeezing down on the base of suguru’s cock and practically creaming around it. you wriggle back on him until he’s completely bottomed out inside of you — balls deep while you ooze against his pelvis and heavy balls. “need you to fuck me…”

that’s all it takes for your stranger turned lover to give his all to you. he drops his sweaty chest to your back, pulling his chubby cock from the snugness of your heat as his teeth take purchase in your shoulders — leaving a litter of love bites your uniform will barely cover once the night is over. suguru is possessive of his belongings, like you and his little sister — the bites are his claim on you.

in one powerful move, you’re full to the brim with rock hard cock — deep in your guts, churning them up and spreading lust like a wildfire through your weak body. you feel dwarfed underneath him. despite being pinned to the floor, you still manage to rock your hips back against suguru and suck more of him into your cute, quivering cunt. it just about helps him set a steady stream to his meaningful thrusts.

wet slapping sounds echo throughout the back room of the bakery, accompanied by your meek mewls and gasps for air the faster suguru pounds into your warmth. fat droplets of precum smear along your soaked and ripe insides, ready to be bred by suguru. ready to be marked by him. you feel like you belong to him like a treasured pet and you don’t even mind it. your pussy blossoms for him like that of a japanese cherry blossom in the spring time — or iris flowers, shobu, in their iconic shade of purple. like the bruises he’s left on your back.

oh, you’re just perfect for suguru. you fulfil all of his sister-fucking fantasies, even your moans sound like hers when she would get off in her room — thinking no one could hear her. he loves this, he might even love you — the way you feel wrapped around him, reaching for the stars in your eyes. it feels like you’re made for him, with the way you clamp down on his oozing mushroomed tip and squirm about underneath him.

your pussy barely lets go of geto when he draws his hips back, but every time he fucks down into him — your fluttering hole stretches to accommodate his creamy thickness. it creates the perfect pathway for the dark haired man to bully your g-spot in a way that makes you scream for more. “you’re perfect for me…fuck, you’re so perfect,” suguru intimately whispers into your skin from behind, his hands smoothing over yours as you claw at the floor to ground yourself from the overwhelming ecstasy. he thinks he understands why satoru had fucked his sister now — there’s something so satisfying about corrupting someone. taking their innocence with your dick. “should i keep you like this? on my aching cock forever?”

“y-yes please!” you squeal, succumbing to your body’s biological will, cunt spitting droplets of arousal all over suguru. he’s barely able to pull out of you, his dick on lockdown inside of your core. there’s hardly any space between you both any more, the air vibrating with electrifying lust and the scent of sex.

you coo and cry out for your newfound lover, your ass and the backs of your thighs burning from how hard his skin slaps against your own. you hardly care about the pain for its overlapped with ecstasy like sea water on a sandy shore. “you’re such a good…good fucking girl for me. for your big brother,” suguru loses track of his words, his mind lagging behind his mouth and his hips that relentlessly pound you into the ground. over the sound of sex you think that you’ve misheard him, but then his voice rises an octave and in volume as he continues to moan out your praises — succumbing to your gratifying and ichorous cunt latching onto the veins spiralling around his dick. “oh my precious little sister… taking me so fucking well—!”

in that moment, all of the guilt suguru has ever felt for leaving his sister, for ruining her relationship and fleeing to new york, for thinking of her while fucking you… it all comes rushing back. he stops thrusting, freezing in place above you while his cock twitches along your insides.

“f-fuck i—“ he starts to apologise, but the cry you let out stops him.

“nii-san,” you whine petulantly, fat tears gathering in your lash line. “d-don’t stop! please keep fucking me, fuck me harder. make me cum, make me scream, make me—!” your words are cut off by suguru’s fingers wrapping around your delicate neck from behind, giving it a gentle squeeze. he resumes his thrusts, a little harsher and more carelessly coordinated than before, once he realises that maybe you’re just as sick and twisted as him. calling him big brother while he uses you for a dirty fuck in place of his younger adopted sibling…

you like this just as much as he does.

suguru knows you’re perfect, perhaps even more so than his little sister. he uses his grip on your throat to tug your head back while he fucks you silly, slotting his mouth against yours in a salacious and sinful kiss. “onii-san, hm?” he forces his tongue over yours, moaning into your mouth pathetically as he reverts back to his mother-tongue. “you want your onii-san to fuck you, imouto? make you cum again?”

“please, please, please onii-san! g-gotta cum f’you…g’na cum. c-close!” comes your brainless babble while you fall into a cockdrunk state.

“you beg so pretty for your big brother, sweet little thing. i should fill you up, breed this greedy little cunt for all its worth, right?” suguru’s mind grows as foggy as yours, copious amounts of his precum pouring into you and dripping down your swollen slit. it’s a mess, everything is disgustingly messy — this situation, the fact that you’re so eagerly calling him your big brother, the fact that he’s fucking you because you remind him of his sibling. but neither of you give a shit, not when you feel so fucking good you swear you’re seeing the pearly gates.

“g-god! please sugu, please nii-san, i need it. need you!” the slow roll of your hips contrasts with geto’s ever increasing slap of skin on skin, your mix of arousals crudely seeping down his balls and to the floor below. the point at which your bodies join starts to forth as well.

“is that so…?” suguru hums attentively, grinning ear to ear at how you play into this immoral dynamic. it fuels the fire of lust burning through him, setting his lungs alight and ruining his chances at breathing. his thrusts become erratic, his cockhead married to your g-spot, and he finds himself growing more and more excited about the sight of his cum leaking from your ravaged hole. “you must really like it when your big brother fucks you — hm, lillith baby? do you like how deep i can get, deep in your tummy?” he continues to ramble, grabbing your ass cheeks to peel them apart — letting out a deep and wild gripe from his chest at the sight of strings of your clear arousal glueing the fleshy globes together. “love how you throw it back on me. keep coating your nii-san’s cock in your pretty juices. gush for me, make me shine with your cum.”

you nod and do as geto says, simpering out for even more while you work yourself back on his swelling girth as it shines with milky white. you can no longer keep up with what’s happening, your brain actually lags at the way your faux big brother coos your name while your sexes sing a lewd song of pap, pap, pap. lust courses through your veins and burns at your nerve endings, you should feel disgusted with yourself but nothing makes sense. you feel like you’re high, and you don’t want to come back down. at this point, all you can do is lay down and take it, clenching around suguru’s hard cock where it counts — pulling more precum from his heavy breeder’s balls.

“nii-san…more, ‘m right there—“ you sob, reaching back with bambi eyes that plead for another kiss. you allow suguru to fuck you at his own free will, too weak to keep up.

“right here, imouto? against this sweet spot, baby sis?” you get a little tighter every time he calls you his little sister, creaming around his base and crying out his name as if it’s a fucking prayer. “you want me to breed you that bad, baby sis? want my cum deep in your little sister cunt?”

you beg for it through tears and suguru makes you cum again just like he promised. your third orgasm of the night renders you completely useless, a silent scream tearing in your throat while you seizes up and trap suguru deep inside of your fluttering cunt. it’s so fucking cute to him, how much you gush when you orgasm, like a rushing river that never stops flowing. it’s almost as if the flood gates have opened up or heaven has rained down on geto’s fat cock.

that’s all he needs for his own orgasm to be triggered, he collapses on top of you from behind as he empties his balls inside of your womb with a shout of your name. “‘m sorry little one, ‘m sorry… so fucking sorry.” he says hoarsely, cock pulsing while a wave of his cream lines your pussy from the inside — he doesn’t ever let up, fucking you through it all until both of your sexes are raw and abused beyond repair. “i love you, baby sis… imouto. s-shit, i love you so much.” your hole burns by the time suguru comes down, and you swear he feels bigger now that his dick is swollen with his orgasm.

suguru is still cumming in spurts when he pulls out of you with a hiss, painting your puffy folds white, the rest leaking out of your entrance. “im so sorry… I have no idea where that came from…” he starts to apologise tiredly. “that was…”

you remain silent for a moment, mulling over what to say next as suguru rolls off of you, and lays by your side quietly. you flip onto your back, staring up at the artificial lights hanging from the ceiling. you liked this, whatever the hell it was… even if it meant he was fucking you to fuck his unresolved feelings out for his sister.

“amazing… yeah.” is the response that you settle on.

“that’s…that’s not what i meant.”

“and i know that! you don’t have to apologise,” you cut him off abruptly, keeping your voice softly. “i liked it, whatever weird kink this is, it made me feel good.”

geto flushes hot all over, sheepishly running a hand through his sweaty black locks. “my sister… she’s not seriously my blood sister. she’s adopted and—“ he’s so sheepish and right after ruining you beyond belief that it makes you laugh in pure amusement. “a-and i like you! quite a bit. i know this was… strange… but with your permission. i’d like to keep seeing you.”

“and fucking me?” you tease, tucking yourself into the man’s side while nuzzling your face into his neck. he smells like you, he smells like sex…but you’re satisfied.

his arm loosely wraps around your waist, thumbing over any bruises he might have left there. “that too.”

“what about the gifts?”

“those won’t stop either.”

finally, you sit up, looming over geto as you tuck your braids behind your ear and out of your face. cupping suguru’s jaw, you lean over him and place a somewhat upside down kiss to the man’s lips — then brush over their cherry red bruising. “then you have yourself a deal — now please help me clean up, sugu. i don’t want to get fired.”

it’s his turn to laugh next. “i’ll just take care of all your expenses if you do.”

you roll your eyes.

this new dynamic, this new fling…it’s unhealthy, yeah. but as long as suguru has someone like you to look out for and need him. he thinks he’ll be okay.

getting over his sister was the key to healing. just like his purple nailed therapist had said — so focusing on you was healing him. before either of you can move to help clean up, suguru reaches up slowly and cups your neck tenderly. he brings you down to his level, his fingers wrapping around the silver chain swinging loosely from your neck before pressing a kiss to the amethyst pendant there.

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utterlyazriel · 2 months

Text

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: here she is... chappie four <3 thank u for ur patience and 1000 kudos to the anon that made a plot suggestion that i had already written lmao-- as always let me know what u think! things are heating up....

word count: just under 4k

synopsis: You return to regular training for the first time in a month. Azriel asks a favor from Rhys and finds you in a less than stellar condition when he returns to camp

CHAPTER FOUR :: FRIENDS

Velaris is a sight for sore eyes.

After nearly a month of endless white scenery, of the blinding glint of the sun against snow, paired with endless pine, the sight of a city is a reprieve in itself.

And because it’s Velaris — because it’s home — something else settles within Azriel.

A hackle that always stays on high alert finally lies down. The constant agitation of his shadows falls into a calming hush. He breathes easier.

He's back with his family and can be here to keep them safe if need be. He's back to the closest semblance of comfort he's ever known.

Where do you find comfort?

Azriel blinks a little, taken aback at the abruptness of the thought.

The lone shelter in the mountains, spaced out from the circle of buildings, every bit representing your isolation from the people of the camp — that was your home.

Where you resided and took solace from the world in, the place you felt safest. But... it's no place of comfort. It's a crutch. A necessary support. Somehow, Azriel has no doubt that if you could survive out in the snow, burrowed amidst the elements, you would, if only to have one less thing to maintain.

You've never even seen a city before, he thinks. All you know is the mountains.

Suddenly, eyes cast across the breathtaking beauty of Velaris, the hum of the Sidra carving its way through his beloved home, the buzz of people on the streets, Azriel recalls the very time he lay eyes on it himself.

It never stops being breathtaking. That much is true, but then again, there was no comparison to the first time.

The warm feeling that had grown in his chest. The way something he hadn't known ever existed within him had unfurled, like a flower blooming in the sun. Something Azriel now knows to be hope.

He hadn't known a place this beautiful could exist.

Wouldn't have been able to dream it up when all he had known for so, so long was darkness and shadow.

Even in the time after the cage, all there was to see was the white of winter and the cold bite of the harsh mountains. He learned how blood looked melting into the snow, how to sleep with one eye open, and all the different shades of cruelty.

Azriel remembers being unable to comprehend the sight, the stumble in his heart at the indisputable proof before him. That despite what had been drilled into him by his father, his brothers, by every Illyrian warrior who punched down on bastards, there was a place where peace reigned above all.

People who lived in harmony. Where Art and music are considered a treasure alongside other skills, each equally important. And Azriel belonged there, as much as any of them.

It had been one thing to walk through the city, to marvel at every cobblestone, at the trims lining each and every window, to have people regard him with such a polite and casual manner — not a second glance at his wings or his hands.

It had been something else entirely to fly over it as night fell.

Mountain ridges illuminated by his most constant friend, the rising moon, watching the moonlight spill over the dark red rock of the mountain and paint it ever softer. Sweet ocean air and the very perfume of the city intertwined within the current as he soared above it, mighty wings beating.

Azriel could remember that first day and night in Velaris vividly, like an unforgettable dream. How easy it had been to fall in love with it, to let its arms unfurl and to allow himself to make a home within them.

Looking out across it now, as Faelights begin to twinkle and blink to life as the night creeps in, all Azriel can think of is how much he wants that for you.

To bring you here. To have both of you fly above the city and wander down the streets aimlessly, to show you that there were places far kinder in this world than all you had known before.

He yearns for you to have the same dawning realisation he did—that so much more existed outside of those gods forsaken mountains.

Azriel knows you're a very guarded male. You have more than enough reasons to be. He's already pushed a thousand boundaries you have and each time you let him into your sanctuary in the mountains is a sign of enormous trust.

Maybe for that reason, Azriel wants to be the first to extend that kindness to you.

A twinge in his chest sings a different, golden answer.

Azriel ignores it and steals one more look out at his home, swallowing down how all logic seems to be pointing to the same thing, time and time again.

He finds the High Lord in his study, papers stacked high on his desk that have only grown higher in Azriel's absence. His dark hair is tousled in a way that means he's been running his hand through it too much.

Azriel lifts the shadows from beneath his feet as he enters, letting the other hear the sound of his soft footsteps. Rhys looks up at the new arrival. Despite his tired appearance, it does nothing to dim the grin that overtakes his lips at the sight of his brother.

"My, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Azriel grins back, stepping forward Rhys pushes back from his desk and stands. His usual wings have been hidden away through his magic and Azriel notices their absence when he pulls him into a brief hug. Rhys lingers close, his violet eyes raking over his friend.

"Not bad to see you either."

"You flatter me." Rhys purrs, his voice all buttery and smooth. "You've got new eyebags. Overworking yourself as usual, are we Az?"

"I presume you make such lovely comments about Feyre too?"

"And risk her wrath?" Rhys smiles, eyes glittering at the mention of his mate. "Never."

Azriel rolls his eyes, letting his obvious endearment at his brother's happiness show. They truly are a perfect pair.

He crosses his arms across his broad chest tightly, if only to hide the fleeting flicker of wanting the spools tight in his chest. A ribbon of envy, woven between his ribs.

If Rhys notices, he doesn't comment. Instead, he says, "Usually, you're itching to escape the mountains but not this time I see."

He pauses, eyeing up the Shadowsinger to see what response it'll give. Azriel yields no comment back. Expecting this, Rhys smiles.

"Either way, you'll be happy to hear that Cassian has returned from his time off and is ready to resume his usual duties."

Azriel stills at the words.

He knew that Cassian would at one point return to his usual positions and that Azriel himself, would return to his spymaster post. But it's come sooner than expected. Perhaps, time with you has been passing far quicker than Azriel thought.

"I found the cause of the rumours."

"Yes, I assumed you had," Rhys says, wandering back around the deck to slump into his chair. He leans one arm against the armrest, his knuckles against his temple.

"I also assumed that you spent all that time dealing with it. Much of a problem?"

Azriel considers his words carefully. The trust he's managed to garner with you is fragile, though he knows his friend would not severe it or interfere if he asked.

Another part of him knows it's unusual behavior of him, to offer his skills so willingly to a stranger. But, well, you're not exactly a stranger anymore.

"There's a male.” Azriel begins, choosing his words carefully. “A bastard, the one causing all the stir-ups. He feeds the other bastards when he can. It's what had Lord Mylind kicking a fuss."

Rhys curses lightly at the realisation of just which camp they are dealing with.

"He's learning to make healing tonics," Azriel continues, noting how Rhys' head straightens up a fraction. Interested. "In hopes of slipping them to freshly clipped females. To see if it can reverse the damage."

Rhys sits back in his chair completely, his hand brushing over his mouth in deep contemplation. For a moment, he says nothing.

"I suppose I don't need to ask if there's been any female training then."

Azriel feels himself glower instinctively, his wings hiking up an inch higher without meaning to. He thinks of Lord Mylind and the conversation he had on the first day in their camp. The sheer display of male arrogance, snarling, and threatening violence outright.

"No.”

Rhys curses again, his eyes crushing closed. He seems to filter through a pained reaction, his face contorting until it lands on a tired resignation.

“The camp of Exordor made very good on a bargain struck during a very hard time.” Rhys grits the words out.

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes at the mention of the deal that had turned sour. A cold ripple of night shudders through the room.

No amount of soldiers supplied during the war had been worth the suffering that camp Exodor alone produced— or continues to produce if the whispers that came out of there held an inkling of truth.

It’s a rotten place, tucked deep in the mountains, and some of the worst brutes Rhys has ever had the displeasure of meeting were born in the bowels of that place.

“It doesn’t lift for another 50 years." Rhys sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of shame. "I can’t touch them without slaughtering them all— innocent or not.”

Azriel didn’t say anything for a moment. This information is not new. He watches as Rhys digests his silence, leaning back in his chair as the wheels spin in his head, dizzyingly fast.

For the second time, Rhys' brows jump.

“You’re helping him.”

Not a question.

Azriel nods.

"You don't want Cassian to take back over."

"No," Azriel murmurs. "Not yet. The male is... He's guarded. Isolated. It has taken time to earn his trust. I believe in what he wants to do and I believe he has what it takes to achieve it.”

He thinks of the quiet evenings within your shelter, your patience as you taught Azriel what you could — how you took every piece of information from him on the chin, not one complaint of ever tiring. He thinks of the heaving in his chest, the tug on his heart.

"I ask that you let me see this out." Azriel finishes, his shoulders rolling back as he stands tall. Let Rhys understand how this had become more than just a mission to him; it’s a personal calling, one he must answer, one that he needs to see out to the end.

Rhys surveys him intensely, unblinking for a moment. Then something devious crosses his face, catching in a smile.

"That's not the only thing you want to ask me, is it?"

Azriel looks to the ground, suddenly bashful. This would be entirely too revealing of the closeness he felt, to ask this, to offer this. He asks anyway.

"I wish, with your permission, to take Heartstriker." Azriel's voice rumbles lowly. He forces his eyes back up, meeting Rhys' strong gaze. "To gift to him."

Something dips into Rhys' smile, threatening a smirk and for that reason alone, Azriel feels his ears tinge hotly. His face remains calm, however, giving nothing away.

"Heartstriker? As a gift?" Rhys repeats, with a sly smile. "Pray tell Brother, when's the wedding? Since when have you ever been known for gift giving, let alone something as dear to you, such as a sword? I might just have to meet this bastard."

Azriel’s ears only get hotter, betraying him. He prays it doesn't show on his face, though he's sure the increased swirlings of his shadows give him away. And Rhys’ infallible ability to read his flustering each and every time.

"Is that permission?"

Rhys, seemingly realising he won't be getting any juicy details, quits tormenting his brother with a flourish of his hand. He leans back in his chair relaxed, a softness creeping into his expression.

"It's been yours to take all these years, Az." Rhys finally lands on. "You did earn it, after all."

—

The shelter looks bigger without him here.

Betrayingly, it’s the first thought you have when the door swings open, letting you into your nest of safety. You heave in a breath that rattles loudly and it gets swept up in the foul whistle of the Mother's Kiss.

On your side, your blood-soaked hand clutches your abdomen tightly. Pain spiderwebs up your body, fraying every nerve with a burning agony.

Every step feels loud and clumsy.

You cough as softly as you can, yet still feel the warmth of blood on your lips. The familiar metallic tang overwhelms your mouth.

You must be dripping blood behind you, dragging a slushy mess of crimson snow in on your boots. Fuck, what are you doing again? Your head throbs. They must've knocked your head hard this time if you're losing focus this quickly.

The Mother's Kiss howls fiercely, a reminder of the cruelty outside your little haven.

Right. You remember you need to close the door— and you shove the deadbolt closed along with it. If your ribs were aching a little less, you would reach up and do up the second deadbolt too, at the top of the door. You try to anyway.

Your arm gets mid-way up before you freeze, pain lashing every nerve in your midriff, enough to make you wince loudly. The bindings on your chest aren't helping. For a moment, dark spots dance before vision as you quickly tuck your arm back down, moving too quick.

Fuck. Fuck. One deadbolt will have to do.

It feels as if the whole world lurches when you take your next step, blurring like thick taffy for a split second. You stumble towards your bed and realise as you sink onto your knees on the edge of it, you need to dress your wounds.

Another bloody cough. Has your nose stopped bleeding yet? It's impossible to tell between each and every other ache.

What were you doing again?

Without meaning to, you begin to slump over, nearly lying down in your bed.

Dressings! That's right, you need to make sure the wound on your side isn't still bleeding, need to make sure it's clean when it finally begins to clot, need to...

Need to... what did you need to do?

That's right— you need to sleep.

Your head crumples against the pillow like a dead-weight as you collapse against it, exhausted. As your consciousness wanes, you cough again, a splatter of red spraying your pillow.

Not good, you think absentmindedly. Eyes slipping shut, you miss the familiar figure out the window, approaching through the storm.

—

You're wincing before you even realise you're awake.

Crackling. Logs spitting out little snaps fill the air, the quiet roar of a hearty fire; the first things you hear when you come too, far too slowly for your own liking. Your left ears hum loudly in discomfort— no doubt a result of one of the harsh hooks you had caught in the face earlier today.

Next, you smell something... clean?

Your tongue comes out gingerly, licking your cracked lips and you realise quite suddenly, there's an absence of blood on them. The thought slams into you at the same time you realise; you hadn't been able to stay awake for long enough to even light a fire.

Panic reaches through your ribs and grips your heart, tight, and you sit up without thinking.

Pain follows you closely like a lazy afterthought that slams into you, soaking into your body meanly and making you regret moving so fast. Your head swims heavily, throbbing dully.

A pained noise threatens to leave your lips and you force it down. Then force your head up, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to assess the threat, trying to do something.

Panic squeezes your heart painfully again when your hazy vision clears just enough to reveal the shape of a body before you— your blood chilling in your veins as you realise there's somebody else in here with you.

The whimper you held back before slips out before you can help it, your body squirming backward without thought. Your breaths comes out in sharp pants, bursts of pain accompanying each one, and right as you hit the wall, your vision focuses.

Your lungs empty in relief.

It's Azriel before you, on his knees, his scarred hands are held out in front of him.

They aren't touching you, just hovering, his palms up to indicate he means no harm. His wings are tucked back, hunched down to be smaller than usual, and all around him, his shadows whirl about animatedly.

There's an expression on his face you've never seen before.

"—on't move," He's saying, his low voice finally registering in your ringing ears. His hazel eyes are fixed on your face, darting about quickly. "You'll re-open your wounds."

He's talking about your wounds but for some gods forsaken reason, all you can think is how surprised you are that he came back.

The thought loops endlessly, like a holy mantra —he came back, he came back, he came back— and you realise that you were both terrified and also sure that he wouldn't be coming back at all.

That somehow, somewhere along his trip back to his home, he would have realised you weren't anything worth coming back for.

"Azriel?" You wheeze.

Just to check—you have to check.

Maybe he's a mirage. He certainly would be the kindest mirage you can think of.

You think you see something soften on his face, his wings dropping an inch lower behind him. His hands are still held out before you, still waiting. He's endlessly patient. His shadows seem to slow a bit, less frenzied.

"Yeah," He murmurs gently in response. His hazel eyes burn as they take in the sight of you again. "They got you pretty messed up. huh?”

You're sitting on your bed still, you realise. Blinking slow, you take an inhale, trying to put together how he got here— your eyes fly to the door. It's locked, this time with both deadbolts secured.

Azriel follows your gaze, turning his head slightly. "They're a good precaution. Don't be dissuaded that the spymaster of this court managed to get past them."

You wheeze again, some delirious laugh that gets cut off when pain splinters through your side. You groan lowly, unable to hold it in and your hand creeps slowly to paw at your side.

Faintly, you can feel the scrape of bandages on your skin, covering the wound, and sigh in relief. It makes your diaphragm sink down, the bindings around your chest shifting and that sends a frantic bolt of alarm through you once more.

“You—” The word scratches out your throat and you cough weakly. Every instinct starts to light back up, hackles rising— there has never been someone else around when you're too weak to defend yourself. It takes a moment with eyes closed and measured breaths to lean into your trust. You trust him, you know you do.

“You... patched me up?”

The question comes out wary and pointed despite your efforts. Though that might just be the gravel in your throat from having your face beaten in.

You don’t know how to covertly ask if he saw— if, that when he pushed your bloody shirt up to nurse the slash in your side, he noticed the gauze around your ribs.

It's an alien and terrifying thought, Azriel finding out. A worry deep in the marrow of your bones warbles in response, a thousand hairs standing up on end at the possibility.

How a revelation of that magnitude could sever the first trust you've had in years.

How it could lose... the first friend you've ever truly had.

A string of nausea tugs in your throat, bile threatening, and you have to swallow it down with the crippling fear that's been thrust into your system.

This is how it goes. The intrinsic balance of the world —to be gifted closeness and friendship, is to submit to the possibility of losing it.

Back against the wall, it settles into you very starkly, a thought sharp and clear; you do not want to lose him in any way.

Some part of you thinks he must see you as some kind of starving mutt, growing far too attached to the first hand that feeds it. But looking at him now, his shadowed face and kind expression, the depth of his eyes... you're convinced he sees something more to you.

And you want him to, desperately.

In a way you can't comprehend, can't begin to understand— how can you be so tied to someone you've known for so little? How can it hurt so much to be parted from him when you're barely friends? When he doesn't even know who you truly are.

Perhaps, you think, this is what all friends are like. You wouldn't know, you haven't had any before.

Azriel nods mutely, a strand of his dark hair falling over his forehead. He seems to be considering his words carefully and you take the moment to steal a few deep breaths.

When he speaks, his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard. "I understand that might be... crossing a line. But—" A waver in his voice. "— but I could smell the blood from out in the storm."

There's something left unsaid in his sentence, his tone clipped. Whatever it is, you're far too tired to discern it. Your body, overwhelmed with tension, abruptly loosens as the perceived threat of danger seeps away. It drains you, a sudden wave of tiredness cresting upon you— because you know, undoubtedly, you're safe now.

Not quite meaning to but unable to stop yourself, you sink down and fall limply against your bed. Your wing curls over you defensively, a blanket and shield all in one.

Azriel's hands finally lower, resting gently atop his thick thighs. His shadows dim their chaotic activity, almost lazy with how they whirl about his neck and shoulders. You wonder absentmindedly what they feel like against his skin.

Looking back at his face, you find his eyes haven't broken their watchful gaze on you— intense enough to stir up an unfamiliar warmth within your chest. You avoid it and his eyes, your tired eyes catch sight of something behind him.

"You brought...?" You can't quite finish your sentence, a vicious shiver wracking your frame, making you curl up closer. Tiredness chases it, the threat of sleep looming closer and closer.

Your eyes close without meaning. In the darkness, Azriel's voice swims before you, muted and far away.

"You have to get better before I can give it to you." His voice has dropped to a whisper. It makes your lips twitch in an attempt of a smile. It's funny, hearing a legendary Illyrian warrior like him whispering.

"Okay," You might say back— though you're not sure if it sounds like a word at all.

It doesn't matter. You're already asleep.

—

tags <3

@strangerstilinski @janebirkln @itsswritten @mischiefmanagers @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @idkitsem @illyrianbitch @jeweline16 @fightmedraco @iamjimintrash @maeandering @spideytingley @aneekapaneeka @cassianswh0reeee @viciane @astarlitsoul @mybestfriendmademe @archiveofcravings @reputaytionn-13 @bionic-donut @chessebookgirl @itseightbeats @littleblackcatinwonderland @twsssmlmaa @fanworrior @skysayhi @vintageoldfashion @tequilya @fabulouslyflamboyant5

#azriel #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x you #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #whom the shadows sing for #whom the shadows sing for (and the thief’s echoing hymn)#OKURRRR #LETS GO #I HAVE TO LEAVE FOR WORK IN 10 MINS SO IM JUST POSTING #if theres things wrong with it.... well ill deal w that later #enjoy! <3

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darlingdekarios · 4 months

Text

until the stars leave.

RATING: m for canon themes — LENGTH: 4,782 — Rolan x Tav [reader]

CONTENT: hurt/comfort, set shortly after the final fight, fluff, somewhat unspoken admission of feelings, first kiss, cuddles because they both earned them, brief indecent thoughts

when the celebrations are through a harsh realization sets in - with your companions returning home or answering to their new purpose and the city in ruin, you are alone with no where to go. as you wander in the night, your mind recalls a certain sentiment that was extended.

Your heart had decided what it wanted before your mind had the chance to catch up, and your feet had carried you to the location you were drawn to - really, to the one place you felt was an option for you at the moment. At least, it was the safest and most comfortable option for you at a time like this, and the one you felt confident wouldn't turn you away.

Entering the main doors was hardly difficult - you'd picked up enough lock picking skills along the way to make quick work of the lock, slipping inside into the darkness around what walls and books remained and releasing a sigh of relief. The stairs you had to climb were familiar - a comfort in some way, at least.

What would happen when you stumbled through the portal? In all likelihood at this hour you'd enter the Tower to remain alone for several hours yet, until its new inhabitants woke for the new day. It didn't matter - you'd happily sleep amongst the books propped against the wall knowing you'd get through the night without any surprises.

But that wasn't quite fate's plan.

"Tav?"

Could his voice be considered a surprise when he was the Master of the Tower you'd snuck into? Could it be considering sneaking when you technically had an invitation - albeit not one specifically for tonight?

"Oh, hells," fell from your lips in surprise nonetheless, scrambling backward and into a stack of books until you fell flat on your ass. Your face burned as your mind wrapped itself around the situation, huffing out a deep breath as you fought your way on pained bones and muscles to your feet again.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, rising from where he sat atop a throne made of books to walk closer to you, meeting you where the ceiling allowed the moon to illuminate the two of you. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's…fine," you breathed out again, reaching upward to remove your headwear and view him completely unobstructed. Your stomach fluttered at the sight of him - the bruises from Lorroakan had faded more since you'd seen him in-person last, something that brought a light smile to your face. It was easier to focus on the freckles that decorated his skin when you weren't distracted by hatred for his former "teacher." “Cal said I had a room here…anytime. And well, I don't quite think he meant at this hour but…”

“Of course you do, there's no question about that in the slightest," his expression was still perplexed, eyebrows furrowed together with one slightly raised as he continued to await any answer you were willing to provide.

Not that you'd intended it, but his careful - and clearly caring - scrutiny made your eyes start to water, one of your shaking hands quickly lifting to wipe away a tear just as it fell. Your voice was meek but you tried to maintain the level of sass and confidence he was used to hearing from you - as you spoke, you were certain it was hardly a convincing performance.

"Only if you don't mind, Master of Ramazith Tower."

He tried to smile his signature grin but his mind focused too hard on you using such a title for him, his cheeks burning several shades of red darker. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze quickly to re-center himself, though it was probably a laughable effort.

"Are you alright?" his voice was just as gentle as you'd needed it to be, your appreciation growing with each word. "You don't even look like you've been healed an-"

“I am…alone. My family is scattered to return to their lives and I'm…"

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, this level of vulnerability and amount of sharing with the Wizard Tiefling entirely new - territory much better explored with a clearer mind and healthier body. Inwardly you worried even that was too much emotion between the two of you for the type of relationship - if you could even call it that - the two of you had maintained up to now.

Another surprise for the night - his eyes were only incredibly understanding as he shakes his head in your direction, dispelling your feelings in the politest way possible.

“You're not alone. Obviously."

There was that agitation in his voice you knew had nothing to do with you. Rolan, complicated man as he was and growing more so by the day it seemed, was not one to share his feelings, few exceptions being made throughout his hardened life. But the truth was undeniable in that single word - four syllables that told you everything you needed to feel more at peace tonight in knowing you were wrong.

You have me.

It was silent - it was all you needed.

Your lip began to quiver again as another tear fell, but this time it was his hand raising to catch it on your cheek, his hands soft and warm and delicate in all the ways you'd dreamed they would be…far more times you were willing to admit. He hadn't thought about the movement before it was carried out, yet he couldn't bring himself to regret it, savoring the way your head seemed to lean toward his touch more.

When was the last time you'd been touched in comfort…in need? Had it been just as long as it had for him? He found it was hard to pull his hand away from the softness your cheek presented beneath his thumb.

“You’ve been through quite a lot recently,” he removed his hand as he spoke again and you immediately wished he'd return it, that you could continue to memorize the feeling. You focused your attention instead on his eyes, falling even harder as you gazed into his eyes. You found only honesty met you in those yellow flames. “You’ve always been here for us…for me. My home - and everything in it - is yours. For as long as you need it."

"I didn't help you to be owed a favor," you reminded, always the one to ensure everyone around you knew they owed you nothing. "Thank you."

"Only you could just save the world and feel you're not owed anything," there was a subtle laugh to his voice that you were happy to hear - that you were certain you'd never been gifted with before and eager to hear much more in the future. "When's the last time you ate?"

Just the word made your stomach growl - it'd been a while, that much was clear.

"We donated our leftover supplies," your answer was hardly a real answer and yet that told him exactly what he needed to know - whatever the truth was it was completely unsatisfactory. He sighed in response, shaking his head slightly as he reached upward to pinch the bridge of his nose briefly in frustration - it only meant he cared.

"Unsurprising," he breathed out, returning his gaze to yours again when he removed his hand from his face. His tone offered no chance of argument. "I'll show you to a bath, and I'll find something for you to eat and wear while you're in-"

His tone offered no chance of argument, yes - but that still wouldn't stop you from trying.

"I'd be okay not eating. You don't need to go out of your way."

His eyes narrowed and he shook his head again, though you could see the hints of amusement at your usual heroic antics flickering in his eyes. You'd starve if it meant you didn't inconvenience someone else. He was hardly going to let that happen, and he was more than willing to repeat himself to you after the interruption - but likely only just the once.

"I'll show you to a bath, and then I'll find something for you to wear and something for you to eat," his tone was more assertive now, dominant - you couldn't deny the way it made your mouth go slightly dry and your palms sweat. "Take your boots off at least, I can't have you tracking…whatever it is on them all over the Tower."

You nodded in agreement knowing he wouldn't agree to anything else now that his mind was made up, beginning to lower yourself down to the ground. Your weary bones were struggling from fatigue and you ended up falling into a heap on the floor instead. He was quick to follow you, dropping to his knees at a speed you knew would result in a bruise, one of his arms coming out to support you.

You thanked him by looking at him like he'd answered a prayer, an expression he'd refer back to frequently. For now, however, he was too focused on your condition to fully appreciate the sweet moment for as long as it deserved.

"Gods," he spat, clearly not in your direction whatsoever - as if he could ever truly feel that anger at you. "I suppose none of your friends could perform healing."

"It seemed selfish to ask at a time like-"

"Just…stop," he sighed out again, waving his free hand in the air to dismiss your piss poor explanation - unwilling to hear the excuse he knew was reasonable and yet didn't bring him comfort. "There is such a thing as being too heroic. I hope the next time you're faced with saving the world you remember that."

"I hope there isn't a next time."

The confession came fast and took him by surprise - he offered an understanding nod and the briefest rub to your lower back where he still held you. He began to remove your armor, gently pushing your hands away when you tried to help. Any amount of relaxation he could offer you now he would without being asked, if he knew it was acceptable.

"Why are you awake at this hour, anyway?"

Your voice was soft and much less upset as you just watched him care for you, trying to navigate the conversation away from yourself. His eyes flickered up into yours again as he worked the laces on your sides free, fingers brushing over the thin fabric covering your sides gently.

You were touch starved and it was hard to ignore - in the way that every cell in your brain was screaming with the desire to hold his hand. You were hopeful the conversation could distract you before you made your desires known.

"I have a lot on my mind," he confessed, placing what had covered your torso to the side. You could see the conflict in his eyes returning and growing, whatever his mind had trailed to as he came up with an answer disturbing the peace that had fallen over the two of you. "I'd like things to be normal for a long time, whatever normal looks like now, but…"

It was your turn to nod in understanding as he removed your gauntlets, fingers lightly brushing against your arm as the skin was exposed. Goosebumps raised where his fingers touched, a fact that he didn't miss. He wondered briefly if it was the reaction he'd get from any part of your body he touched.

"But? Something else worth sharing?"

He had to lie…

"I'm afraid not."

But unfortunately he wasn't very good at it.

"If it's from your mind, it's worth sharing."

Such a compliment took him off guard momentarily, his eyes widening with genuine surprise as he allowed them to soak in, hoping he'd remember how that sentence sounded from your lips forever. It was impossible to lie when faced with the weakness of his intellect being appreciated, especially when it was by you.

"I worried it would be a long time before I got to see you again."

With his confession of the truth both of your faces heated up - his face turning shades of red that only seemed to make him glow. It made both of you feel silly, this giddiness which neither of you were particularly good at hiding at the moment. He helped you to your feet again as you made a mental note of the subtle flick to the tip of his tail.

Being a little bashful wouldn't stop you from flirting with him altogether. It was far too tempting to tease him just a little more.

"So that's what keeps the Wizard of Ramazith's Tower awake at night," your tone was light and playful and he was thankful you were able to diffuse the tension with your personality. He wasn't certain if his efforts to flirt had ever been even remotely successful in the past with others, but he was becoming increasingly hopeful they might work with you.

"It's what was keeping me awake tonight. Who's to say what tomorrow will bring?"

Your eyes flashed with surprise that Rolan was capable of flirting in such a way and found you could only smile, his heart fluttering at the sight. Behind him his tail twitched again, and he quickly moved to ensure you weren't catching onto the quirk. An arm gently slipped around your waist as he began to lead you to the bathroom where the promise of a relaxing bath waited for you. On the way, you still wanted to fill the silence.

"Are you going to tell Cal and Lia?" you questioned, realizing quickly you needed to clarify. Forming a concise question proved to be difficult when you were becoming intoxicated by the smell of him that was flooding your senses at this proximity. "That I'm here."

"Of course I am, but in the morning. Tonight you need to rest."

You nodded in agreement and remained at his mercy as you made your way to the destination he'd chosen for you. The bathtub filled before your eyes with a simple wave of his hand, a smug expression forming on his face as you looked on in wonder despite all you had seen in the recent weeks. Reaching for a shelf he walked beside the tub to empty several vials of herbs, once again waving his hand so some of the candles decorating the room flickered to life.

When he turned to face you he realized all that was left was for you to remove the rest of your clothes…the thought alone returned the blush to his face. This time, however, it was joined by several beads of sweat breaking out across his brow, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck as he nervously cleared his throat.

"I'll find you some clothes," he announced, trying to maintain the composure in his voice. "And food."

And like that he was gone, disappearing in a flash to remove himself from any further opportunity of indecent thought.

The bath alone did you wonders in returning your body to a somewhat lucid state, though you still stumbled when you raised yourself from the relaxing waters. A simple robe in a shade of blue he so regularly wore awaited you on the vanity, which you dressed into slowly to ensure you didn't have any accidents.

It felt odd to dress for the day and not cover yourself in as much powerful armor as possible - even odder not to grab a weapon. You were thankful for the oddity.

An illusionary duplicate of himself waited outside the bathroom door to direct you to your next location - you weren't surprised at all to find Rolan hadn't bothered with giving it much of a script beyond what was necessary. Still, you found your mind focused on all the power he was displaying - Rolan became more impressive by the day, more powerful and capable of caring for himself and his family.

How very lucky Cal and Lia were to have someone in their lives like him.

You found him in the kitchen, amused at the flustered expression on his face as he plated whatever he'd whipped together - for the two of you it seemed, judging by the matching plates in front of him. With a pop his mirror image disappeared and Rolan's head lifted to meet your gaze, both of you smiling just at being reunited again, though it'd hardly been long since you separated.

(In fact, this would become a trend for the two of you very soon - minutes would feel like hours, hours like days, days like eternity until soon you'd find being apart at all was unbearable. When that day came for the both of you, you would hardly be far from his side again.)

He'd made a simple meal for you - something he somewhat bashfully admitted he used to make for Cal and Lia when the three of them were growing up. As you ate together in comfortable silence you decided it was the best meal you'd ever been made, and one you would ask for again whenever you needed an excuse to see Rolan.

Not that you truly needed an excuse.

Thankfully, it was still dark when it was time to retire to bed for the night, something you were already hoping you could manage despite everything that was still on your mind. As he escorted you to the room you'd sleep in he offered a quick explanation knowing there was an argument to be had when he'd finished.

"You'll sleep in my room tonight, and I'll take the spare bed in Cal's room," his words were coming quick in the hopes that your exhausted mind would have trouble keeping up with them, intentions pure as he hoped you would just allow him to extend this kindness. "Tomorrow we'll be sure one of the other rooms is furnished to your liking."

"You don't need to go to all of this trouble for me."

The genuine offense that passed his features at your phrase was chased quickly by annoyance, his eyes narrowing again as he imparted his next words onto you.

"You've gone through far more for me. Please."

He opened the door and motioned you inside fluidly, following after you to light the fireplace with the wave of his hand, providing more light to the dark room. Even in the dim environment you could see his bed looked oh-so-inviting…despite the books that littered the top of it. Realizing the mess he rushed forward to begin moving them, shooting you a grateful look when you joined. A gentle brush of your hands together as you both reached for the last book caught both of you off-guard, his movements entirely freezing at the feeling of your skin against his again.

In the privacy of his bedroom, there was something about the touch that just felt more meaningful than anything that had come before it.

"Sorry about the mess," he quickly filled the silence with an apology before he got too lost in your hopeful eyes, before he thought too long on how exhausted you must be after everything. "You should be plenty comfortable here for the night."

You nodded in agreement and climbed into the bed, quietly moving to the opposite side and finding comfort in the first position you found yourself in. Taking in a deep breath you continued to gaze up at him, mind running through a million options as to what to do now and hoping he could see your desire written in your eyes.

Instead, he took a step back as if to leave.

"I'll see you later this afternoon, I hope, after you've gotten plenty of rest," his voice was quieter as he was conscious of you entering a relaxed state, truly hopeful it wouldn't be long before you were asleep. "Goodnight."

But as sweet as it was, it wasn't what you wanted.

"Wait," you called, reaching out to grab at his arm before he was too far away. He turned to look over his shoulder, a puzzled look on his features bringing a small smile to your own. A smile - a genuine smile. How very good it felt to do so without guilt again. "Stay…please? It's just…quiet. So quiet in my mind since the parasite is gone. I don't like feeling so…alone."

Thankfully, he'd never make you beg. He simply nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, breathing out deeply as he mentally talked himself into remaining calm - sleeping in a bed together was hardly something to get all worked up over.

"I suppose I will sleep much better knowing you are."

For as nervous as he now felt, he was thankful he was still managing to form coherent and articulate sentences. He was still living through the embarrassment of tripping over his words in front of you the first time you'd met.

"Then please.""

Eager to ensure you didn't have to repeat the plea again he only gave in to your desire, climbing into the bed next to you and trying not to feel overwhelmed by your scent flooding his senses. He stayed on his back for a moment deciding it was for the best as he decided exactly what he wanted to do - what the best way to continue the night was.

What didn't take much thought was the feeling that crackled in the air around the two of you, an undeniable mutual want drawing the two of you nearer. And yet, neither of you knew how to seize the moment that was presented to you, new worries taking root in your minds.

He was so thankful when you were the one to break the eilsnce.

"You said you worried it would be a long time since you saw me again."

"Yes, I did."

"Why did that worry you?"

"I suppose…"

His response trailed off as he elected to consider his words carefully, taking a moment to form them in his brain to ensure they were exactly what he wanted. No words - even magical ones - would ever be enough, and even if they were he was hardly the type of man willing to express them.

But for you? He'd do whatever h could manage.

"I suppose I am quite fond of you," he breathed out, admitting to himself inwardly that it did feel good to finally admit it aloud. "Though I find your heroics insufferable and wish desperately that you could practice a little more selfishnesses quite a bit more often, I…enjoy your company. I did not want to go long without it."

He was certain he'd chosen the right words when his eyes found your face again, greeted with the sight of complete and utter adoration. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him this way - it was instantly a sight he wanted to see forever.

"I was selfish…after the battle," you explained, biting at your lip nervously - a habit he found quite cute, no matter how many times he'd reprimand you in the future for it. "Everyone offered me a place beside them. I could be helping in so many places - I had so many choices."

He waited for you to continue your story, understanding that something like this may take extra time. If there was anyone that deserves it, it was you.

"I chose to stay in Baldur's Gate."

He could feel that you were burning beside him - your temperature had easily spiked. Were you embarrassed at such a confession? He hardly thought admitting to stay in the city warranted such a fuss, though he also wasn't going to be one to shut you down.

"No doubt you'll be detrimental to the city's rebuilding efforts."

"I intend to be, but that's not why I chose to stay," you offered a light smile and released a shaky breath before you continued with your confession to him, glad you could get it out now and that the suit hadn't died alongside you. "I chose to stay…for you, Rolan. To be near you. I wasn't ready to…to move on."

The realization washed over his face like a wave and he was very aware that he was burning now, unable to stop the smile that spread across his features - or the fact that he'd been moving closer throughout the lunch.

"It seems my worries were matched by your own."

He was mocking you playfully, in a way that only he was truly capable of. You adored when he was in a mood like this. If he was in the mood to flirt, you were more than happy to oblige.

"I'd love to not worry myself over you someday, Rolan."

"And I you," he agreed with a nod, his handsome smile still covering his features. It was lighthearted and peaceful yet serious and intense - you'd happily go mad trying to understand all the different sides to him. "Do you think that day will come?"

"Perhaps if we watch one another," you offered, knowing you had no intent of removing yourself from his side anytime soon if no one forced it. "Every day, to be safe."

Slow movement caught your vision from the corner of your eye as one of his hands reached up to cup your face in one hand, cutting what the conversation could've blossomed into short. Your joking expression melted away into serenity once again masked with bashfulness. You were nervous at what his next move was - you bit at your bottom lip to prove it. He adored seeing you behave so…smitten?…for him and couldn't resist the opportunity for more.

"I am so glad you are here," he breathed out deeply, unwilling to mask his thoughts from you anymore, feeling already that he'd wasted enough time. "That you chose this. That your decisions lead you here, to me. I wouldn't trade this moment for anything."

Your own hand joined his, laying atop his as your eyes fluttered shut. You held his hand against your face as you moved closer, propping yourself up on one elbow. When you were certain you'd be greeted with the exact sight you wanted you opened your eyes, taking in the sight of him gazing up at you patiently, waiting for whatever word you'd offer him next.

"You're quite a prize for saving the world.""

"And I haven't even thanked you properly," his thumb brushed across your bottom lip slowly, his hand then slipping to the back of your head to pull you downward, closer to him. Your faces were mere inches apart, the anticipation of a kiss waiting to be claimed growing by the second. "May I?"

It was a quick nod you offered that was barely finished before he was claiming your lips in his own. It was the sweetest, most delicate and heartfelt kiss you'd been given in your life thus far, all-consuming and addicting immediately. You pressed closer to him as you lost yourself in the kiss, singularly focused on how perfectly his lips moved with yours to the point his tail winding around one of your legs went fairly unnoticed.

The two of you only pulled away from air, both of you immediately breaking into a small fit of giggles, nuzzling your noses together in pure joy. As you laid your heads back down on the edges of your pillows so you could remain close you gazed upon one another with an adoration that could go unspoken for now - your shared devotion was perfectly clear. Your hands found each other between your bodies and he placed his atop yours in silence, enjoying the first true peaceful moment in so long for a moment, reminding himself it wasn't selfish to stop and appreciate you - particularly at this hour.

His tail released your leg to drape over your waist instead, pushing you closer to his form until you were burying your face in his neck. The warmth and his scent combined with how one of his arms also wrapped around you gently was lulling you to sleep before you'd even found the perfect position. Though really, any position with Rolan would be perfect in your mind.

"Goodnight, sweet hero."

You were already asleep, his hopeful sentence gone unheard by yours ears as the exhaustion finally overtook you and you succumbed to the comfort of resting beside him. Waving an arcane lock toward the door to ensure the two of you would go uninterrupted for as long as he could keep you in the bed.

The world and all its troubles could be forgotten awhile while the two of you found tranquility in your shared solitude - and neither of you would have it any other way.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 #rolan fanfic #bg3 fanfic

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persage · 2 years

Text

CAN YOU STAY WITH ME TONIGHT?- S. HARRINGTON

Summary: It's a rainy night when Steve Harrington knocks on your door for help. This time, however, it has nothing to do with the upside down and its monsters but that doesn't make things any easier.

Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Words Count: 2.5k

Warnings: None, just Steve's shitty parents, some angst with comfort and the breakdown our boy deserves. Hopper!Reader. Let's pretend Hopper never "dies" at the end of season 3. (set between s3/4)

He can see it in the distance, warm and familiar. At every step the Hopper house is closer and you with it. In the dark of the night Steve Harrington needs you like never before. The rain beats quickly against his jacket as he runs fast, regretting not having taken the car and having decided to run away on foot, like an unconscious stupid child. If he lived in a normal city, he might be afraid of catching a cold or a fever at most, but he lives in Hawkins since and November 6th 1983, the day Will Byers disappeared, he has much more to fear. He knows that rationally nothing has happened for months, that you are theoretically safe, that you have overcome the Russians and the Mind Flayer, but every time something terrible has been thrown at you it has been when you felt the safest. He trembles. He should have at least taken the bat, which he keeps under the bed, but he ran away from that hell of the house without thinking and immediately found himself running to you, like an unstoppable impulse.

To say you've had a hell of a night would be an understatement. His tear soaked face is red and puffed, his hair disheveled and even if he's been running he's cold, lips chapped and he just wanna stop moving and sleep. It seems like an eternity goes by before reaching the familiar doorstep. Though the hour, he knocks at the door and it doesn't even occur to him that the Chief Hopper can open it in your place. Also he is ashemed of being seen this way by you, but by your dad ... It would much more embarrassing.

Luckily what he sees after a few minutes and a few reminders is your sleepy and confused face.

"Steve? What's wrong?" You ask as you open the door. You haven't looked at him well yet, not enough to realize he just cried, you rub your eyes to wipe out sleep, your hair is unkempt, the pajama you are wearing is turned upside down and you seem to have the pillow still glued to your face . Guilt grips Steve's heart.

I shouldn't have come. He thinks. He needs to go away, is nothing important.

Sorry y/n, it is nothing, I'm going home. But what comes out of his lips is something else. "Can I stay here, tonight?" He asks, his voice trembling. Idiot Steve.

Your brows knit together with concern as you let the door open fully. "Of course. My dad is working late so it's just us. What happened?" You look him up and down, resting yout hand on his chest once the door is shut. You finally notice his eyes swollen with tears, despite the rain you can clearly distinguish his tears. Something between his chest and stomach tightens. A lump rises in your throat.

You never saw Steve cry, not when Billy beat him, not when Nancy left him, not when he was tortured by the Russians. Something very serious must have happened and you are afraid to know it, because the person in front of you, even if he does not know it, is the human you care about most in the world. The same one you were willing to die for so many times. When you stood between him and Billy, when you stood by his side in the tunnels, when you offered to take his place during the you never managed to stop him from hurting himself.

And now, again, something has already happened to him and you are here, helpless. You can only listen to him.

"I.. I shouldn't... I didn't know and... I just. It's raining." He avoids eye contact as his voice shakes as well as his hands. You grab them, squeezing them with both of yours. They are cold and wet. "You're all wet Stevie, you're gonna catch a cold." You say in the sweetest tone. He lets out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have come".

"No, no don't say that. We're gonna get you into some dry clothes and get that cut cleaned up, alright?" You rub your thumb over his cheek, pulling it away to show the trail of crimson liquid. Steve haven't even noticed he was hurt, he is just so used to it.

Even if you are shorter then him, you awkwardly try to put an arm around his shoulders to warm him. Steve lets out a little laugh and you let an arm slide along his side and bring him closer to you as if you need him to have both hands on him in fear that if you let go, he'll fall completely apart.

You walk him to your room signing him to be quiet for El who is sleeping in the near room. You pick out a red sweatshirt that he lent you once and you never gave him back and some unlikely basketball shorts that must have belonged to your dad when he was young and they certainly won't fit him well but as they are but it's your best option. Steve doesn't know how to describe the feeling while he hold the clothes in his arms waiting for you to leave him, it is just that they make him feel safe. They have your scent.

"You change and I'll get some stuff to clean the cut, yeah?" You say, gently caressing his face and regretting it a second later. Sometimes your releshionship confuses you: he's not your boyfriend, not even near to be, but you are way more tan friends. And he ran to you. In the moment of need he ran to you, it must mean something. But on the other hand then there's Robin ans this symbiotic relationship that she and Steve share that you don't understand and it scares you, also because she's awesome in so many ways and you really really like her. You don't wanna be jealous, you just can't help it.

Steve nods and watches you leave hesitantly. He knows he must have scared you, showing up out of nowhere, late at night, and he knows you must have understood something is very wrong. Steve feels weak near you, like he doesn't need to hide his fears anymore, like he can finally break down and that's what worries him the most. He doesn't want to be a burden and he doesn't want you to change your mind about him. When you return Steve is sitting shyly on your bed, twiddling with his fingers.

"Alright, here we go." You state, walking back into the room with hands full of band-aids, gauze, hydrogen peroxide

"What happened Stevie?" You ask sitting beside him, so close you can feel his still cold skin against yours.

He takes a deep breath and remains silent.

"I am ready to challenge my father's wrath and let you stay tonight and you know he will kill me for it but you must confide in me, please. You can trust me." You continue while with dedication you cleanse his cheek of stale blood.

"I hit a mirror. And I broke it." He explains in a low voice, finally finding the courage to look into your eyes.

"Yeah" You hold stare back at him, his eyes full of shame, fear, a broken heart. "And how did you hit a mirror with your pretty face Steve? "

He clears his throat to stop the trembling of his voice. "I had a fight with my father"

When will you grow up?

When will you work for real?

You make me regret having you, stupid boy.

You're useless

You're a shame for the Harrington name.

" He ... He found out that I'm not going to leave Family Video soon and ... He freaked out. You know my, my cousin Trent has just graduated he'll have to take care of the family business and I... I'm just too stupid for this shit."

"What did he do to you?" You struggle to control the anger in your voice and squeeze the gauze too tightly. This time it's Steve grabbing yours hands to calm you down.

"He didn't do anything to me. He didn't beat me Y/N if that's what you are thinking, he never did and he never would"

"But you hit a mirror" Your voice holds pieces of breaking heart and anger.

"He pushed me, I slipped. I swear to you"

"It's not that better anyway. He pushed you, he makes you feel stupid, he... Doesn't even try to understand you Steve. This is not fair, you deserve better" Your voice goes up an octave, you just want to scream at Steve's parents, to make them see how wonderful thier son is. You always knew that his family never protected, loved or valued Steve as he deserves but seeing him in this state annihilates you.

" You're the only one who thinks that y/N. Sometimes I've got the feeling that you don't actually see me for who I am" Steve chuckles, but behind that sound there is nothing happy, just a lot of loneliness. "Steve we all believe you deserve the world. Robin, Dustin, the kids. Me. I've seen you fight monsters, Russians, I've seen you save everyone. I know you, I've seen you take care of Dustin and the others and be the most generous and courageous person in the world. You don't want to run a company, and that's okay so it doesn't make you any less important, less strong or valuable. Please, please believe me "

"I can't" He murmors voice breaking. He brings his hands to his face to calm down. He feels like crying.

"I can't y/n" You hang your head slightly with disappointment, while caressing his soft hair.

"He kicked me out of the house." He adds, whispering.

His chin wrinkles, his eyes burn ready for tears to start streaming as your heart falls with his.

His pain is yours.

You no longer care about keeping appearances and distances. You throw yourself on Steve stepping him in the tightest of hugs, tying your arms around his neck and resting your head on his, kissing his hair while Steve Harrington lets himself go against your chest, collapsing into a cry that has been held back for years. He cries for Barb, for Nancy, for himself and the little boy he was. He cries for the blows he took, for the mistakes he made, for Jonathan with whom he was an asshole, for the mistakes he has not forgiven himself. For high school Robin. For the Russians, for Billy and Max, poor little Max. He cries because the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he is not even able to be a worthy son, to be strong and now he throws it all on you. He cries for you, because he knows that now he can do nothing to keep you away from him, to give you better. You love him, otherwise you would have already kicked him out, you would see his flaws. Like his father you would find him useless.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He whispers against your body, sobbing his heart out.

"No, no, no don't be. Ever.

We'll find a solution I swear my Dad will help us"

"I don't want ... I don't want Chief Hopper to get in the way ... I don't want ..."

"Steve my father adores you and is grateful to you and will be happy to help you. You have saved my life a thousand times. You save me every day to be fair"

You move away wiping his tears with your thumb, looking at him with admiration, as if he were the most precious thing on earth. Steve lets himself be lulled into this unknown sensation. "We will talk about it tomorrow with my father and we will solve everything"

"Yeah." He agrees softly. "I don't know what I'd do without you y/n. Thank you"

"Don't ." Your voice is soft but scratchy. "Don't ever thank me for this Harrington. This is what we do. We're there for each other, no matter what."

He nods once as you hold his head in your hands

"And listen to me, please. You are worth, you are precious and you deserve the world"

"It's you, you are precious" he leans to you, his forehead now touching yours.

Your voice shakes "You are loved" You murmor as you help him lay down on your bed, arms wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. "Now sleep, you need it Stevie boy"

"If your father finds us like this he'll kills us"

"Oh Harrington I'd be ready to die for a night with you"

You answer ironically. Or maybe not.

"I left him a note on the door. He'll know you're here and you need us." You continue.

"y/n"

"Yes Steve"

"You are loved too."

He smiles while closing his eyes, letting himself go to the peace you give him. He loves you, he really does.

You make him feel better even if he still has a dad outside who hates him and a mother who can't stand up for him and even if his problems are not gonna disappear this night, for a few hours with your breath against his skin and your hands on him the seem to weight less on his shoulders and he he feels a little less useless and unworthy. You're his saving grace and the light of his life and maybe one day he will be able to tell properly.

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ladymarycrawley · 1 year

Text

Man of the match part 1 - John Stones

Requested by a lovely anon, hope you like it even though its hasn't been proofread 🙈

Tag list: @masonxomount @prideofpd @johnstonesfc @stonesyy

(Gif credit to @johnstonesyy )

John has been in terrific shape lately: starting most games and scoring even two goals! He was happy and you were even happier.

Last big game in chronological order was the one against Arsenal, which was important to decide who would have gotten closer to the final result, winning the Premier League title.

Since you managed to leave your baby girl with his parents for a couple of days, you could make it to the Etihad, to cheer on him from the stands.

The most emotional moment of the night was when you saw him exploding with joy the moment the referee validated his goal. As a natural consequence, your heart burst with joy too, jumping in your spot as the chant "Johnny Johnny Stones" resonated through the stadium.

You only wanted that game to finish as soon as possible so you could wrap him in your embrace and tell him how proud he made you.

After the game he celebrated with his teammates and recorded some social content for City's Instagram, the only thing you could do was waiting patiently in the room where the footballers' families would usually wait for their beloved ones once the games were over.

You were chatting with Sasha when John finally made his appearance together with Rúben.

"Here's the man of the match!" Sasha cried as we all made a round of applause to compliment him on his brilliant performance. He blushed and thanked everyone before connecting his eyes with yours: the only thing that mattered were your own congratulations, how proud you were of him.

You smiled, opening your arms to him as he he hugged you with so much strength he lifted your figure from the ground.

"You were amazing, babe" You whispered in his ear, trying to keep your pda as discreet as possible as none of you liked to make a show.

Shivers ran down your bodies as he planted a small kiss in the crook of your neck.

"Thanks. Shall we go home?"

You nodded as he put back on your feet.

You waved everyone goodnight before entering his car.

"I can finally scream about the excellence of my man of the match" You exclaimed in a high pitched voice that made him giggle. You placed your right hand on his cheek to kiss his giggly lips as your thumb gently caressed his cheekbone.

"You were so so good and when the ref said the goal was in, that was crazy!"

He loved hesring you so enthusiastic about the game, talking about it with so much passion.

"Yeah, that's was crazy" Both his hands were on the steering wheel, being busy backing out of the parking lot before he could place his hands on your thigh.

"Glad you could come to the game"

You smiled and squeezed his hand, brushing your thumb against his skin

"We have the whoooole night to ourselves to celebrate" You hitted wiggling your eyebrows.

"Mh?"

"Bub's at your mum, remember?"

"Ohh well" He smirked, moving his hand further down your thigh. "You were looking forward to this, don't you naughty girl?"

You sighed, looking out of the window. "Well, if you prefer go home, eat a snack and going to bed it's fine for me"

He moved his head to the side to glare at you.

"What? You won't get away with it so easily…you still owe me that lingerie set you teased me with thr other day"

"Not my fault your daughter woke up crying suddenly!"

"Blame it on a child? You're so mean"

You laughed out loud and batted his hand away.

"Stop it or won't see that set not even tonight"

"And threatening your man? You're such a bad girl"

"Oh you have no idea how bad I can be" It was your turn to smirk and he bit on his lower lip squeezing your thigh.

As you closed the front door of your home behind you, meaning you were now in the safest space possible to show each other all your love, you started kissing your way down his neck, gently nipping at his skin.

John hissed as he firmly held your body close to his. His grip was tight on your bum as you slowly moved further south, unbuttoning his shirt while doing so.

He tugged on your hair to bring you back to your height.

"Go put that set on now" He ordered you huskily.

Needless to say all your clothes were scattered all over the floor as the passion got the best of you and you couldn’t spend not even one minute more apart from each other.

In the morning John was the most similar thing to an angel you could ever think of: his head on the pillow bordered by his perfect curls tickling his forehead made him look like a cherub. His sleeping features made you fall in love with him even more, if that was something humanly possible.

You couldn’t resist the temptation to move his curls away from his forehead and kiss it.

He moaned and stirred his body, throwing his arm around your waist to keep you closer to him.

"Good morning"

He groaned, not wanting to keep his eyes open.

"We haven't used that set, not even this time" You giggled, pressing your lips against his cheek.

"Someone was too busy asking me for more"

"But there was also someone begging to fuck me if I remember correctly"

John slapped your butt before taking you over his body to cuddle you.

"We have to go take Iris in a couple of hours"

"I miss her running around the house screaming daddyyyyy"

You giggled and kissed his lips.

"Now she'll hug you and won't let go of you for the rest of the day, you know that?"

"I can do that, you'll have to be the one to deal with your jealousy"

"Now you're the mean one" You pouted, making him giggle as he kissed you back.

"But we still have a couple of hours…do you wanna see the set?"

#john stones #john stones x reader #john stones imagine #john stones imagines #football imagines #football fics #mcfc #manchester city #manchester city imagines #england nt #england nt imagines #footie fics #john stones fluff #john stones smut

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josefavomjaaga · 3 months

Text

Ida meets Ney in Russia

I dimly remember that somebody (Cadmus?) mentioned they wanted to read more from Ida. So here’s a brief snippet of Ida – for once – getting in trouble with her hero, of Ney scolding her and … being jealous of Eugène?

The meeting takes place somewhen in late 1812 or early 1813, as much as it’s possible to tell from Ida’s chronological rollercoaster ride. In any case, after or at the end of the Russian retreat. Because of course Ida had joined the Russian campaign as well.

And not only she. If any tumblerinas here plan on learning how to time travel and want to go back to see the Grande Armée march towards Moscow, they don’t need to worry about incognitos. Most likely they would barely be noticed, as apparently there were wagonloads of groupies following their heroes around.

Okay: four. But that’s only those ladies Ida travelled with. Plus, two of them died on the way back.

Ida was particularly fond of a Polish-Lithuanian girl named Nidia, as madly in love with general Montbrun as Ida was in love with Ney. Not that either of the two got to see their idol much during the march. As a matter of fact, the first thing Nidia learned before entering Moscow was that Montbrun had been killed at the battle of Borodino. Other than that, Ida claims to have had a bad feeling about this city from the start:

As we entered Moscow, occupied at last by our troops, this immense city seemed to us like a vast tomb; its empty streets, deserted buildings and solemnity of destruction were heartbreaking. Despite the pomp of victory, I felt struck by I don't know what new kind of melancholy when I saw it; the flags seemed to me gloomy and almost surrounded by funeral crêpes and black forebodings. We were staying in Rue Saint-Pétersbourg, near the Miomonoff palace, which was soon occupied by Prince Eugène. The sight of this young hero and the cheers of the soldiers, who adored him, gave us back all the illusions of victory.

Okay, so I just added this because it’s so rare to see Eugène receive some praise. (I should also mention that the adored young hero was growing bald at an alarming rate and that his bad teeth were killing him.)

As a matter of fact, Ida claims that Nidia was especially interested in Eugène because he was rumoured to maybe become king of Poland (yes, another candidate). These rumours did really exist, Eugène mentions them in a letter to his wife before the campaign started. (And he also makes it pretty clear that these are just rumours and that he has not the slightest ambition to stay in this country. He may have used different vocabulary than Lannes but he didn’t like the region any better.)

The following night, Ida and Nidia wake up to a burning Moscow and are saved by soldiers of 4th corps. On the retreat, they seem to have followed headquarters as closely as possible, which was their safest bet to stay alive (because where the emperor is, there’s food and firewood and a resemblance of order) but still witness horrible tragedies. After the crossing of the Berezina, they apparently followed the remnants of Eugène’s 4th corps to Marienwerder, before Nidia says goodbye and goes back to defending Poland.

But before, on the way, at Valutina (?), Ida finally sees Ney again

At this point, after the retreat, Ida at least starts to question her decision to follow the Grande Armée around. Or something like that.

I have just recounted my fatigue, my difficulties and my perils in a war beyond human endurance, because of the new aspects it seemed to give to destruction and death. A powerful feeling made me undertake everything and endure everything. Why was I going to face the hazards of a campaign? Why was I going to expose the weakness of a woman to the rigours of a climate of iron? In order to obtain yet another glance from the one whose smile had always paid me for my military errands. This look was always like a world offered to my hopes; the dream alone of this reward had made possible all the impossibilities of time, distance, sex and fortune. My life was thus burnt for a few hours, still uncertain. I was giving up everything for a moment in space. Alas! this time, how I was going to regret this moment that had cost me so much to conquer! I had just gambled my existence for a flash of happiness, and this flash, the quickest of my life, became the cruelest.

I had to spend three fatal hours in a miserable shack on the outskirts of Volutina. My dress was so horrible that it was a real disguise. In a person dressed like that, one could hardly suspect a woman. Ney, however, only had to look my way to recognise me. To have been seen was enough to have been discovered. I was about to rush to the front of this first happiness; I was about to testify to the soul of my life how proud I was of this divination of friendship, of this perspicacity of memory, when words of an energy which was far from that of the feeling of which I was possessed, intimated to me the order of the most positive dismissal: "What are you doing here? What do you want? Go away quickly." With this address and a few short, curt rebukes about my reckless rage and my fury at following him everywhere, I only had the strength to reply: "It is a rage, indeed, but it is not at least the rage of pleasure or vanity," pointing to my coarse clothes and my face burnt by the sun and faded by fatigue. He took no notice of either the harangue or the costume. He was off and running. His displeasure at seeing me there was so great; he let it out so vividly that I thought he was going to push me back to the opposite bank of the Dniéper in his anger. Stunned by the reception, struck by lightning, I remained motionless for more than an hour, staring at him, thinking I saw him; he had disappeared without paying any more attention to me or worrying about me.

From which we can deduct that Ney was not a reader of Jane Austen novels. Otherwise he would have known that whenever you have behaved in a way that made a woman fall in love with you that’s f-ing your fault, monsieur!

In 1813, when I recalled to Marshal Ney this scene of such violent fury, followed by such cruel silence and abandonment, he told me that he had been so mortally frightened by the extravagance which had pushed me into the midst of so many perils and the licentiousness of an army, that he had even been tempted to beat me. Truth requires me to admit that the temptation had been so strong that he had, I believe, yielded to it a little; it was without his knowing it, for the great passions know neither all they want nor all they do. Anger is therefore still love, since it is as blind as fury.

Girl, get help. Seriously.

When we crossed the Dniéper at Serokodia, I could have had another word with him. A new laurel had just hidden his wrongs and healed my wound. I could have, I wanted to say to him: You have just added to your immortal glory here; you alone have just saved Frenchmen lost in deserts of ice; I would have liked to express to him what all parties repeat today, what posterity will proclaim on the ashes of the brave... But I stuck to the joy of hearing the distant cheers. There was then a little fear in my delirium for him, and I almost have the idea that I idolised him even more by fearing him in that way…

Did I mention the thing about getting help?

Yes, even the reproach was appreciated by my heart, and still seemed to me a tender interest. I found I don't know what pleasure in hearing myself scolded later for my association with Nidia, my marches and counter-marches with the Viceroy's troops. No matter how many times I told the Marshal that Eugène's protection had been focused exclusively on the young Lithuanian girl, and that I had slipped unnoticed into this benevolence, he took it into his head to believe nothing of these sincere protestations. To make him reconsider such a strongly conceived idea would have meant exposing myself to a repeat of the Dniéper order and military correction. I had no intention of trying the same pleasure twice. Finally, he saw the evidence of my attachment, and he found the generosity to prove this belated but strong conviction to me [...]

By calling her his brother-in-arms, by the way. And this, I believe, really meant a lot to Ida.

#napoleon's marshals #michel ney #ida saint-elme #memoirs #napoleon's family #eugene de beauharnais #russian retreat #russian campaign #russia 1812 #also #we have a phone call by a certain vice-queen interested in the exact definition of the word “protection” in this particular context

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sochawrites · 2 years

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Can you making a Corey Cunningham fic fem reader omg please I love him

Hi there Anon!

I don't write for Corey for a) I don't vibe with him and b) becouse of my personal opinion, but I'd like to keep that off of this side blog (although he is kinda cute in a way).

!BUT!, since you're the first person to request anything, and I still haven't posted rules for sending requests in, I will try and make something up for you :)

And if you're looking for someone who will write for Corey in general, I'd suggest @trashyslashers, @slash-me-please and @murdrdocs

(sorry for tagging)

Fight for me

Corey Cunningham x reader

You were still relatively new in Haddonfield, moving in long after the Halloween night massacre and the tragic babysitting that took place the year after, but you never bothered to look into what happened. Which resulted in weird side looks from other citizens whenever you expressed unfamiliarity with these topics. But you got used to them after a while.

That might have been the main reason you never bat an eye towards the judgmental faces people threw at you whenever you were seen with the young Cunningham boy.

"Yeah, yeah, Corey over there is free right now, he will have a look at it. Corey! Come here kid!", that was the first time you ever heard his name, the first time you saw his face. You couldn't help but fall hard for his dorky smile and puppy eyes, only magnified by his round glasses. Corey, himself was taken aback by how polite and sweet you were towards him, as most of the city outright hated him. You decided to push your luck and ask him on a date, to which he happily agreed. Who knew a broken car could take you to such treasure?

You made your relationship official a few weeks later. His mother obviously disapproved, believing you weren't good enough for her boy, but she decided to protest silently since you were probably the only woman in town who wanted to talk to and spent time with Corey.

"You seriously don't know anything about the incident?" he asked you once after you encountered a rather rude waitress on one of your dates. "I don't. By any means, if you want to tell me, go ahead, but I don't think it's so bad that the whole town has to treat you like that." "Aaa… It's a long story… and I think you're better off not knowing."

It was very early in the morning, you stayed up all night preparing for the upcoming Halloween and were ready to go to sleep when frantic knocking at the front door stopped you on your way upstairs. Now, Haddonfield might have not been known for being the safest city, but its only serial killer certainly didn't knock, so you weren't worried about opening the door.

But you did become quite worried when you opened the door.

"Holy shit! Corey! You look awful, what happened?" Your boyfriend was slumping against the doorframe, looking all beat up, jaw tightened in pain. "It was those kids again, they cornered me up…" say less, you were already dragging him inside your home. "Did they corner you up in the sewers? You smell like shit… Go sit in the kitchen, I'll bring you something to change into and-" you were already running off to fetch a few things when Corey caught your wrist "Y/N, I have to tell you something."

You smiled and reached your free hand to his face, caressing lightly over the bruised skin "You'll tell me once I patch you up, ok?". And with that, you were off upstairs, rummaging through your partially shared wardrobe for clothes you then quickly brought to him, before going to look for a first-aid kit.

Once you got back, Corey, who has already changed, was sitting at the table. You walked up to him and pushed aside his soft curly locks to better assess the damage done. His dark eyes were looking into your soul, you could tell there was something heavy on his mind. You noticed some bruises forming on his neck. "Did the kids have tried to choke you?" you asked while you soaked some cotton pads in disinfection, "No, that was an unrelated incident, but, listen…". Corey flinched a bit when the pad brushed against his scratched cheek, "I'm listening…", you threw him a soft smile.

"I killed someone."

He told you about the kid he was looking after three years ago, the accident that completely changed his life. Corey looked so broken, definitely fighting with himself about whether or not he should've told you. It was safe to say it knocked the wind out of your sails. "Now that you know, can you face the crowd? Can you be seen with me and still be proud?"

You let out a heavy sigh and put aside the cotton pad "Corey… God, I'm going to sound soo cheesy, but… let me quote something… I will fight for you if you will fight for me.". He smiled at that. "I love you Corey, and if people are picking fights with you, they're picking fights with me."

You leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Corey looked up at you, "Can you hold my hand?". You did so without any delay. He squeezed your hand in his own hold, lowering his gaze and concentrating on your intertwined fingers.

"…Sometimes I want this city to burn…" Corey murmured, mostly to himself, but you heard him. "We can always move away, leave the city behind if that's what you want" you went on caressing his cheek with your free hand, careful to avoid touching the scratches. He laughed a bit and shook his head "It's too late for that, I feel like the fire has already started…"

You tilted your head to make him explain what he meant, but he didn't elaborate. It didn't matter, you were going to find out soon enough.

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #reader insert #request #anon ask #inspired by Fight for me from Heathers #if you can't tell

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i-care-4u · 1 year

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MY FAVORITE PART | J.HARLOW

PAIR: JACK HARLOW X READER

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST

the weather was at its raging point where a thunderstorm was about to hit the city. lucky for you, you found a home to stay in for the night.

unable to see the windshield, you turned on the wipers as an attempt to see the streets while the rain was pouring hard. you looked at the mirrors beside you, making sure that you’re in the right place. after seeing a familiar street name, you decided to drive over, as it was the safest place nearby.

as you got out, you began feeling the blowing wind pushing you. you rapidly closed the door, only bringing your purse and umbrella. but even the umbrella didn’t help you for shit as you opened it.

little by little, you tried to rush to the door. as soon as you ringed the doorbell, you started to remove your now wet shoes.

your friend, jack, opened the door. you and him have been close friends for four years now, and it wasn’t until last year that you started to get a little closer with him. “hi y/n, make yourself at home.”

“you’re so corny.” you jokingly smacked your lips as you stepped inside his home. normally, there would be his friends chilling around the counter, but today, there was silence. the dining room looked tidy and empty, likely that no one came over today.

you were wet because of the rain, so you couldn’t really take a seat. instead you walked to the bathroom and jack followed you.

“wait right here.” jack opened one of the cabinets to see if he had an extra towel that you can use. he passed the towel to you and ran to his closet, where he eventually gave you a fresh set of his clothes. in the meantime, you began drying yourself by using the towel given.

once you finished dressing up, you went back to the dining room and made talk.

“what brings you here?” jack leaned over the table, getting a closer listening to you.

you explained to jack, “well, i was going to get groceries, but the rain got me, so i went to your home since it was nearby.”

“i’m glad you’re safe now. feel free to come anytime.”

jack got out of his chair to put some snacks on the table. you, on the other hand, set up some candles in the coffee table from his living room, carefully lighting them. after the task was completed, you and jack turned all of the lights in case the lights go out. cautiously, you guys settled down on the couch, were you would be spending for the rest of the night.

the scent of lavender spread across the room, and jack thought that you had a good taste in candles. obviously, he didn’t used these candles as much as you do. “hey, you picked some good candles.”

your face lit up, feeling eager to take him to other places, “maybe i should start taking you candle shopping then. i think you’ll discover more scents from there.”

“do they have pumpkin pie?” jack said jokingly.

you blinked, “maybe save that for autumn.”

the conversation between you and jack was still ongoing, talking from candles to saying the most absurd things that seemed that it was pulled from your brain last minute. you felt comfortable talking about these topics, cracking some jokes every now and then.

“goat vaccination spot? what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you turned around and asked him in a sarcastic tone.

“it’s when…” jack looked at the ceiling. he had a hard time explaining what it meant, causing you to laugh at him.

“see! even you don’t know what it means.”

you moved spots, going from the couch to the floor. you sat down criss-cross, reaching your hands to where the candle is, seeking warmth.

“i’m right here you know.” jack said, but you only smiled back and patted the floor, signaling him to come join you. jack being a gentleman, he sat down beside you on the floor.

you sarcastically made a sound of relief, “it feels nice.”

“yeah, because i’m here.” he chuckled. you rolled your eyes at him in a jokingly matter.

the room was silent for a while. you continued to warm your hands while jack was watching. he started to notice your little features. you were focused at the candle, expressing it with a slight smile. jack’s sighting of you looked like a piece of art.

you turned around to make eye contact with his blue eyes. they were hypnotizing to look at at, you thought. jack reached his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “divine you look.”

jack knew that you were extremely beautiful, inside and out. however, you weren’t aware of your beauty like jack was. he loved the way you showed your true self when around him, you being his favorite part of his day.

you had a confused expression on your face. “divine? look at me right now jack.” you stretched his white t-shirt, showing off the basic, yet comfortable outfit.

jack made eye contact with you, “i’m not kidding y/n, you’re one of the most beautiful girls i’ve met in a really long time.”

what he said was nothing but his honest opinion of you. you were on his top tier of the most beautiful people. you didn’t look your best today, and you didn’t understand why he’s saying it right now.

“why are you telling me this now?”

“just a confession that i hid for some time now.”

“oh…” you didn’t know what to say. does he want to make things official with you?

the last time you were in a relationship was three years ago. it was a short period of time before it was called quits between you and your ex. even prior, you felt that your relationships were short and seasonal.

you loved jack dearly, but you were scared that it was going to last short just like the previous relationships.

“jack, i don’t know.” you sighed.

“did i do something wrong?”

“it’s not you, it’s me. i just don’t want to ruin another relationship that quickly like my last ones. am i doing something wrong?”

“no, it’s them. they don’t view you the same way i do.”

“how do you perceive me then?”

“i see you as my ideal woman. i love the way you act around me. you’re a little silly, but that’s what makes you authentic. you’re my favorite part of the day, and i always look forward to see you.”

you slowly changed from looking stressed to showing jack your affection. even in the past, you never heard someone confessing their love to you in a head-over-heels way. you listened as if jack read a love letter to you, which felt like a beautiful moment to you.

you slid your arms and wrapped them onto his neck, “i want to take things slow this time around, jack.”

“i promise you that i’ll make you feel as divine as possible.”

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anonymouscakeao3 · 1 year

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the best wingman is… cake?

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (coming soon)

The wind howled outside the small building, the sun setting casted a warm glow through the front windows of the shop.

y/n sighed, glancing at the clock before turning back to the partially decorated cake, ‘it’s not home time just yet’. The police commissioner had put in a last-minute request for a cake to celebrate the latest achievement of the ninja, they had just finished rebuilding most of the city after the events involving the sons of garmadon and figured now would be an appropriate time to celebrate.

The cake itself was massive, it had 3 tiers and each tier was a different flavor. It was a risky move with deciding what flavours to use as the commissioner didn’t her much information to work with, “Just make it look cool!”. In the end they went with chocolate, strawberry and vanilla, the safest options.

They had decided to try and make the monastery on the top tier and decorate the rest of the cake with little props and figures of the ninja. They opened the box of figures and took the first one out, the green ninja, ‘where should he go?’, they moved the figure all around the cake, trying to determine the perfect spot before deciding on the top tier in the monastery gates.

They glanced at the clock again, 6:12pm, “It’s going to be a long night.”

11:37pm is when the cake was deemed finished.

y/n stepped back from it and stared at it, “For a last-minute request, it’s the best I can do.” The cake was decorated like a mountain, the mini monastery turned out better than what they expected, and they was extremely happy with how the landscape looked.

They separated 3 tiers from each other and placed them all in the fridge, they’d have to figure out how to transport it to the venue tomorrow.

The celebration was due to start at 5pm and at 4pm, y/n was still struggling to transport the cake. Even though the cake was currently split up, it was still large and was decently heavy.

By 4:30pm, they had managed to get the cake in their car and was now at the venue. The commissioner had arranged some venue staff to meet them outside to help transport the cake inside, they brought a food trolley with them. They quickly assembled the cake before wheeling it inside.

The inside of the venue was breath-taking, gold and black streamers hung from the roof while matching balloons decorated each table. There were about 30 tables in the room, all fitting about 10 people on them. When they had walked in with the staff, they noted the small handful of people that already arrived and were trying to find their designated table seats.

“y/n! Its so good to see you!”

The police commissioner came up and shook their hand, “I do apologise again for the late request, you’ve done an amazing job though.” He looked in awe at the cake, noting all the small detailing down to the grooves in the monastery’s walls.

“Just wait until the ninja see this! They’re going to love it!” He turned back to y/n and smiled, “I hope you’re staying for the celebration.”

“Am I?” they asked, confused, “No offence commissioner, but I don’t feel like I should be here. I haven’t done anything to help.”

“Nonsense! You made this cake, you deserve to stay, and I know for a fact that the ninja would agree! Besides, we’ve already allocated a spot for you.” He gestured to a nearby table, “You’re already dressed for tonight too.”

“I only dressed like this so I looked nice while bringing the cake in.” they laughed, smoothing out theur shirt, “But if you insist, I’ll stay.”

Soon everyone else started to arrive and by 5pm, the commissioner took to the main stage with a microphone in his hand, “Thank you everyone for making an appearance tonight, I know there’s still a lot of work that needs to be finished but this is a well-deserved break! So please take tonight as a chance to relax and to celebrate what we’ve already achieved.” A few people clapped.

Music started playing as the commissioner walked off stage and people slowly got up and started dancing, some went to the bar and others stayed at their tables, content on where they were. y/n decided to just stay put in her seat, rethinking their choice of staying. They was paying with her fork on the table, watching as people started to gather around the entrance. The doors opened and they watched as the ninja walked inside, the commissioner running up to greet them all individually.

Soon after, the party had gone back to normal. Half of the ninja were sitting at their table with the high-ranking officials, the others had either gone off for drinks, to talk to others or to join others on the dance floor. They were all dressed in matching suits, except Nya who was wearing a loose blue dress, the others all were wearing black suits and ties, which were their respective colours.

y/n kept glancing at their table, noticing how bored Jay, Cole and Nya looked. They looked around and noticed Kai dancing with a group of girls, Lloyd talking to the mayor and Zane at the bar, getting what looked to be glasses of water for the three at the table.

When they looked back at them again, they saw Jay and Nya had left, quickly spotting them with Kai. Zane had come back but he was talking with whoever was sitting on his right while Cole looked like he was about to die of boredom. Y/n glanced back at Kai, Jay and Nya before looking back at Cole. Who was now looking at them. He smiled and waved slightly while they smiled back and nodded their head at him before diverting their attention away to try and ignore his lingering stare.

8pm is when they announced that they were going to cut the cake, Slowly the ninja and police commissioner moved towards the stage. Y/n watched as they carefully wheeled it out on the little food trolley, watching the ninja’s face as they took in the details of the cake.

The commissioner was handed a microphone from venue staff and started speaking, “Thank you everyone for coming out tonight, I hope everyone has had a good night.” A few cheers in response, “This night wouldn’t be complete without a cake to wrap up celebrations. I had put in a last-minute request for a cake, and I must admit I was a little scared of the outcome, but it turned out way better than I could’ve imagined, and I’ve only got Y/n from Ninjago’s Baked goods to thank for that!” He pointed at Y/n gestured for them to come over, which they hesitantly did. As they made their way to the stage, people started clapping for them, they gave a small bow when they reached the stage and went to walk back only to be stopped by the commissioner, “I think its only fair that you get to cut the cake.” A staff member handed them a big knife and they tensed up.

‘Why did I agree to stay? Why did he have to call me up? Oh FSM, I don’t want to cut the cake in front of everyone.’

They gave the commissioner a nervous smile as their grip around the knife tightened, “It’s just a cake, you’ve cut many before..” they whispered to themself, placing the knife into the top tier of the cake, and slowly pressing down. A staff member soon joined them and held a plate out, which y/n placed the slice of cake onto, the staff member then handing the first slice to the mayor. They noticed everyone’s attention was no longer on her and they sighed, continuing to cut the cake and hand slices to staff members.

“Soo, what flavors do you have?”

Cole, the earth ninja was now stood beside them with a massive grin on his face, “Bottom is vanilla, middle is chocolate and top is strawberry. Any preference?” Another slice cut and placed on a plate. “Could you cut me a slide of chocolate please, I know they’re giving out slides randomly but I’m dying for some chocolate cake.” The knife was moved to the second tier, cutting a slice out, placing it on a plate and handing it to Cole. A staff member handed him a fork and he immediately started eating it, a groan soon following, “This is so good, you made this?”

A nod in response.

“I might have to stop by your shop more often then, what was it called again?”

“Ninjago baked goods, its located outside of the city, close to Jamanakai village.”

“What other stuff do you make?” They had stopped cutting the cake now and turned their attention to the ninja sitting on the stage, eating the cake. They took a slice of vanilla cake and went to sit with him, “Your usual run-of-the-mill pastries such as pies, bread rolls, jam tarts, sometimes cupcakes, brownies, a lot of cakes but they’re mainly for parties and such.”

“Now I definitely have to stop at your shop, a lot of the bakeries in and around the city had to shut down due to the sons of garmadon, which unfortunately included where I regularly stopped so I’ve struggled to find somewhere new, but it looks like I’ve just found my new bakery.” He smiled, placing his now empty plate on the stage next to him.

Y/n smiled back, glancing at the other ninja who were slow dancing. Cole followed their eyes and grinned, he held his hand out to them, “Want to dance?” Y/n shook their head, “I don’t know how to dance.” Cole grabbed their hand and stood up, “C’mon I’ll show you, it’s easy.” He dragged them to the dance floor. “Alright, left hand in mine, right hand on my shoulder.” They hesitantly moved their hands, which he noticed and laughed, “I’m not going to bite y’know?” They rolled their eyes and smiled in response, “I know but we literally just met and now we’re slow dancing, please excuse my hesitance.” He moved his arm around their waist and slowly started to move around, “Just follow my steps and you’ll be fine.”

Y/n freaked out a little when Cole started swaying them around slightly, trying to match their footing with his. Cringing when they stepped on his foot, “Sorry.” He looked down at them, “For what?” “Stepping on your foot?” Cole laughed, “It’s fine, don’t stress too much about it.”

The two continued to slowly move around the outside of the dance floor.

“You looked so bored at your table earlier.” Cole stated, “Yeah well i didn’t know that i’d be staying, the commissioner kinda just sprung it on me.” Y/n had briefly forgotten about the party surrounding them, all they were focused on was the hand holding theirs and also the hand around their waist. They could’ve sworn that they weren’t this close to each other when they started dancing.

“What was your excuse for being so bored mister?” Y/n teased, in response they got a shrug, “Parties aren’t really my thing. Sure it’s cool to go to one every now and then but when you constantly go to them, it’s the same thing over and over and it just gets boring.”

Y/n never thought of it like that, the ninja are always attending celebrations and parties held by the city, of course they'd be bored of them, 'well not Kai at least.' they thought, glancing at the fire ninja who was still dancing in the middle of the floor.

Cole followed their gaze and chuckled slightly, "Kai is probably the only one that is super excited to attend everything, especially if it's a party." He turned to look back at Y/n and smiled.

The two danced in silence, enjoying the company of the other.

Y/n became hyper-aware of Cole's hand when it started moving to the lower part of their back and was now rubbing circles with his thumb. They flushed slightly, noticing how close the two were now, 'How did I even end up here, dancing with a ninja. THE earth ninja for fsm sake.' They looked up at him, catching his eyes and smiling. 'God, Mari is going to go apeshit over this.'

Cole removed his hand from Y/n’s and pushed some hair out of his eyes, revealing the scar on the side of his forehead, "Can I ask you something? It might be a bit rude." They started, fingers interlocking with his once again when his hand returned to theirs, "Go for it, I don't mind." He smiled, tilting his head slightly. "The scar on your forehead, what is that from?" Cole was silent, not knowing how exactly to answer. Y/n bit the inside of ther cheek, 'Knew i shouldn't have asked that, now he's uncomfortable.' they sighed, "I'm sorry, that was rude of me to ask," 'Maybe i should just go home now.' They slowly started pulling away from him, unclasping her hand from his, "Sorry, I should go, have a good night Cole." He quickly grabbed their hands before they walked away, "No wait- I'm sorry. Did you maybe want to go outside?" They nodded in response.

Cole held onto Y/n’s hand as he led them outside to the balcony, he pulled himself onto the railing, holding his hand out to Y/n who gave a nervous laugh in response, "I think I'll fall If I go up there." Cole smiled, "Do you trust me?" His hand was still outstretched. They looked between his hand and his face before sighing, grabbing his hand and letting him help pull them onto the railing. They gripped onto the railing as they tried to steady themself and Cole laughed, "This isn't funny." They glared, sitting next to him, still gripping the railing as hard as they could. "Oh c'mon, you gotta admit it is a little." He winked, causing them to roll their eyes playfully. "Yeah yeah, whatever you say."

Y/n looked at the moon, noticing the rain clouds coming over the horizon. "The scar," they turned to him, "What?" Cole didn't turn his head to look at them, instead continuing to look at the garden below, "I got the scar when I was turnt back into a human."

"When were you not a human?" 'God that was so rude.'

"Do you remember when all those ghosts were attacking Ninjago?" A nod in response, "We had to get this scroll from this place and if you weren't out of there by a certain time, you became a ghost."

"Oh." Silence, "I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"That you had to go through that, and for asking rude questions."

He smiled, "It's not your fault and you didn't ask anything rude, don't worry. I honestly forget about the scar half the time because my hair covers it now and I didnt realise you could see it so it kinda just took me by surprise."

"I only saw it when you had moved your hair, I didn't notice it before that. Was that the reason you grew your hair out?"

"Yes and no, I never liked how it looked and would always try to cover it with my hair but when my hair started getting longer, it was easier to hide. I just didn't cut it because we didn't really have time to stop in Ninjago for a haircut and there was no way in hell that I was letting Kai near my hair with scissors again." They both laughed.

"Well, I know my opinion doesn't matter but I think it looks cool. Both the scar and your hair." They smiled, shifting their hand to rest on top of his.

"Ah- Well- Thank you." He stammered, slightly flustered at both the compliment and the hand now resting on his.

Y/n smiled, moving their hand to adjust themself on the railing. They let out a small scream as their foot slipped and grabbed onto Cole's arm, sighing as he pulled them up again. He wrapped his arm around their waist, causing both of them to flush, "I'm not going to let you fall again." He smiled, pulling them into his side.

"Thank you for tonight Cole." They rested their head on his shoulder, looking out at the garden. "No, Thank you. I thought tonight was going to be another boring party but it was nice meeting you and being with you tonight. Also, that cake was delicious, so I might have to stop by your bakery for another one." He laughed. "Wow, not even stopping by the bakery to see me, all you care about is the cake." They teased, nudging him lightly with their elbow.

"Maybe I might have to stop in to see you too I guess." He joked, turning to look at them. In the corner of his eye, he could see the crowd inside was starting to grow smaller, people were leaving. Was it really that late already?

Y/n noticed the crowd too, "Looks like everyone is starting to leave.. Is it really time to go already?" They laughed, turning to face Cole, "It's funny because I was thinking the same thing."

"I'm going to ask you something but you can say no if you want too." He said, his face becoming serious. "Okay, what is it?" they laughed slightly.

"Can I kiss you?"

Y/n stared at him in shock, he maintained eye contact with them but they could see his face getting redder by the second. They could feel their own face heat up when they nodded slightly, watching Cole as he moved forward until their lips touched. They both instinctively closed their eyes, too afraid to move as if the other was a fragile statue. He moved his hand up to their cheek, cupping it gently while they grabbed his free hand which was gripping his pant leg.

When they pulled apart, both of them were smiling, "That was... um.. nice." Cole chuckled, jumping down from the railing and holding his hand out to Y/n, who gladly took it and with his help, jumped down from the railing and started walking inside with him. They took note that his hand was still holding theirs and smiled, gently squeezing his hand.

The other ninja took notice of Cole and started walking over to him, all of them noticing his and Y/n’s hands, "Cole," Kai started, "Who's your friend here?" He teased, smirking as both Cole and Y/n’s faces turned red. "Um- This is Y/n, they’re... a friend.." Everyone greeted them before turning back to Cole, "You ready to head back now? It's getting really late." Lloyd said. Cole nodded and started following everyone else outside, still holding onto Y/n’s hand and leading them with him.

"Just friends huh?" They joked, laughing slightly causing Cole to roll his eyes, "Oh you know what I meant." The two laughed, quickly quieting as they stepped out of the venue, the other ninja now further ahead.

"So.."

"So?"

"Are you going to maybe stop by the bakery one day?"

"Of course, are you crazy? Why wouldn't I?" A shrug in response.

"Cole! Are you coming?" Nya yelled from the limo's window causing him to flip her off.

"You better go." Y/n laughed, "Yeah, but I don't want to leave you." he smiled, cupping their cheek gently. "Well you know where to find me, I'll make sure there's always a slice of cake put away for you." Cole laughed, "There better be or I'm suing you."

"You should really go before your friends kill you."

"Yeah, alright." He pulled them into a hug and placed his head on theirs, "I'll see you soon?" They returned the hug, "Of course." When they pulled away, he leaned down and placed a kiss on their forehead, "See ya." He smiled before turning to walk to the limo. Y/n stood there as he walked away and smiled, waving at the limo as it drove off.

"There's no fucking way that just happened, holy shit."

#cole brookstone x reader #ninjago cole x reader #ninjago x reader #ninjago #cole brookstone #ninjago cole

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hauntedwitch04 · 2 years

Text

Vampires

🎃Halloween party🎃

Azriel x reader

Words: about 0.8k words

Warning: a lot of fluff, mention of sex and sassy Azzy with Cassian + some swears

Author’s note: Hi loves! 4th day and here we are with our Azriel! Hope you like this!

✒️: “You know darling, it’s dangerous to walk around after midnight.”

Requests are open I Ask I My masterlist I Join the Taglist

All you can focus on is the sound of the clock moving around the room as you toss and turn in bed, unable to find the sleep you so long for. Defeated, you snort and get out of bed. You place a robe over your shoulders so you don't feel cold, and then walk toward the kitchen of the Windhouse. Once there you begin to make yourself some tea, but once you put it on the stove you are distracted by the view from the terrace. You step out the window and immediately the cold wind of the night envelops you. The stars above you watch over your steps as you approach the balustrade of the terrace, away from the window, since this terrace is immense.

Below you the view of the city at night disperses among the darkness of its surroundings. Its lights seem like a beacon for sailors lost in the fog, a symbol of safety, of home. You stay what seems like seconds to observe that spectacle, but is actually almost an hour. You feel a hand on your shoulder that startles you, causing you to turn away. Once you turn around you see that it is none other than Azriel looking at you with a puzzled look. You do not respond and turn back to the city, leaning with your elbows on the balustrade. He imitates you, placing himself at your side, looking, however, instead of the view, at your face.

"What is it?" You say finally, feeling his gaze on you.

"You know darling, it's dangerous to walk around after midnight." He says in a whisper near your ear. You feel chills run down your spine, but they are not from the cold.

"Az, we are in the safest place in all of Velaris. Do you think you will scare me with your usual monster stories you tell Nyx? If I'm not mistaken, last time Feyre was literally about to kill you." I reply laughing, as he chuckles with me.

"Monsters are everywhere, I just want to prepare him for the world ahead." He says turning serious again, bringing his gaze in front of him. "A monster is right next to you, looking at the stars with you."

At those words a deep sense of sadness permeates your chest, and you feel as if a boulder has taken the place of your heart. You look at him with teary eyes as you gently touch his shoulder. His shadows wrap themselves around your arm like a soft caress of the night, and a sense of anger pervades you toward those who made him suffer so much.

"You are not a monster Azriel." You say in a soft but at the same time firm voice, and he turns at your words, looking at you, seeing the tears that threatened to fall due to sadness and anger. "You are the sweetest, best, kindest, most loving person I know, even if you don't like to admit it." You continue, staring into his eyes.

For the second time tonight you lose your sense of timing by gazing into those beautiful chocolate-colored eyes, which remind you of the color of wet earth in autumn covered by the red and orange leaves that have fallen from the trees.

You don't know how, you end up being closer and closer until you are practically breathing the same air and your lips are touching. From that moment a dance starts between your tongues, with your arms and legs, coddling you all the way to his bedroom. There you spend a night of love, losing each other, while the stars from the open window continue to witness this love, all the way from your first kiss.

In the morning Nesta is surprised to see the teapot on the burning fire. She removes it only to wonder who had forgotten it there, when she sees you arrive in the kitchen with a big smile and obvious red marks on your neck, the answer is obvious to her, the only incongnity was who she had spent the night with. Beside her Cassian looks in amazement at the girl in front of them, until Azriel also entered the room with the same smile, but several more marks on his neck, not hidden by his uniform. Immediately you and the Shadowsinger fall into a routine, preparing your breakfast, circling each other like dance moves you've known for years. Nesta can't help but smile contentedly, while her partner can't help himself.

"Damn, are you two fucking vampires or what? Did you see what you broke up or what?" Shouts the Commander to his friend, who turns and with a small smile looks at you, before turning back to look at his brother.

"It's better than fucking in the dining room." He replies cheekily.

No one had ever heard Nesta laugh so much and so loudly before.

#Azriel Headcanons #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x reader smut #imagine acotar #acotar x reader #becky's writing #becky's halloween party

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angelsworks · 1 year

Note

hello can you make headcanons about yandere klaus mikaelson with a reader who is pregnant with his daughter (hope, the reader is his biological mother)

Yandere!Klaus Mikaelson x pregnant! Werewolf reader

Masterlist -> Here

Type: Headcannon

Requested: Yes

Summary: Being pregnant with Klaus’ daughter

Warnings: pregnancy, yandere themes, dark themes, stalking.

It was one night.

One brilliant night.

You didn’t expect it to lead anywhere. In fact you left town the very next day. You knew all about Klaus’ reputation. So despite the great sex, you didn’t plan on sticking around.

Unbeknownst to you that one night was a drop in the ocean of nights he’d spent with you.

He’d been watching you for a while now. It started when he was hunting werewolves to turn into hybrids.

He saw you and your pack. You looked so peaceful and calm. Like an Angel in the woods picking flowers.

It reminded him of his childhood, when he himself would pick flowers for paint.

For some reason something inside him said he had to have you.

So he waited and watched. He watched as you split from your pack and went travelling on your own. He followed you through town after town, finally introducing himself at the bar.

When he woke up and you were gone he was more than disappointed.

Yet he loved the thrill of the chase, so once again he followed you through city after city. Following your unique scent.

He stopped when he found you - like before - in a bar.

This time you were only sipping on a soda, with a solemn look on your face.

Your eyes widened when you caught scent of him. Making a move to leave the bar.

Outside you were caught by Klaus, he pushed you against the brick wall and demanded to know why you ran.

You broke down as you told him you were pregnant and that he was the only person you’d been with in months.

Doubt wasn’t even a thought in his mind. He was too ecstatic at the news to question its authenticity.

He was nothing but kind to you as he held you while you cried. Nothing but kind as he offered you to stay at his house during your pregnancy. Nothing but kind as he insisted you stay in his room. All for the baby of course.

The baby was proven to be his by a group of witches. The were all swiftly killed to ensure news did not reach his enemies.

During your pregnancy you were kept safe in his families home. Any desire you had was met by Klaus. It would be a lie to say you weren’t growing fond of him.

When the baby was born, the protective feelings he had for you were no different for the baby.

He convinced you that the safest place a hybrid baby can be is at his home. Where you’ve got plenty of originals to keep you both safe.

He doesn’t let you do anything alone, being more than thrilled to become a parent.

With Klaus being your baby’s father, you have no way to leave or run from him.

This baby will tie you to him forever.

#yandere tvd #dark #klaus mikaelson headcanon #tvd yandere #angelsworks post #klaus headcanons #klaus mikaelson

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sgt-morgan · 1 year

Text

🩸Blood and tears💧

Summary: You’re put in danger, and it dosent sit very well with Matt. Nobody fucks with his Robin. Part of the Robin verse.

Warnings: violence, lots of violence, blood, tears, anxiety attacks, villence against a pregnant woman, no death though I promise. Cannon typical shit. AFAB! And female identifying reader.

A/N: I was put in a really scary situation a couple weeks ago, and this is me working through it. But also, giving myself the comfort and the support I wanted and didn’t receive.

Daredevil Masterlist

No amount of time, energy, or preparation can ever really prepare you for the worst. You go about day to day just living, and then one day, boom. Your face to face with a snarling demon, and nothing to show for it other than some false hopes, and false promises of safety.

Theoretically, you should be one of the safest women in the city. Being the wife of one of New York’s toughest vigilantes has its perks after all, one of them being that you weren’t normally in a lot of danger no matter what it is you were up to. Tonight though, tonight was seemingly the exception.

The offices of Murdock, Nelson, and Page were pulling an all nighter-ish. You’d been at the office working on a case all day, only stoping for you to pick up Jackie and Michael from Daycare (Foggy and Marci’s baby boy, who was fittingly named after his godfather Matthew Michael Murdock). You and the others perused files, evidence, witness statements, and an obscene amount of previous cases, attempting to put together the most intelligent and compelling argument you could manage for a case you didn’t think should be going to court in the first place.

“There is actually zero reason we should be going to court next week.” You sigh, dropping your head to your desk that everyone had crowded around. “Sure, Bucky caused some property damage to that building, but the building manager shouldn’t be letting his super run drugs out of the basement.” You groan, looking at the pictures of the dented steel support beam, and the drugs, and a bank statement from his building superintendent that looked suspiciously like hush money if you did say so yourself. “The only reason the court is entertaining this is because people still have a vendetta against the winter soldier. Property damaged be damned.” You grumble and hims of agreement followed.

“No, I definitely believe you’re right there.” Foggy sighed reaching out to pluck up both kids and set them in his lap. “Marci and Karen should be finishing up with that call soon, so why don’t we take a break and grab dinner, do you wanna go pick up Thai food?” You watched as he quickly placed the order on his phone, pretty sure the website auto populates your usual order now.

“It’s getting dark Robin, I’ll grab it.” Matt sighed, and stood with a wince that he tried to disguise with a stretch… which only really served to make him look like his spine was snapped in twelve places, he had a rough night daredeviling, and your shitty office chairs weren’t exactly helping, you could see it in his hunched shoulders and shuffling steps. You couldn’t have your man hobbling all over the city like that, he looked like he had the back of a civil war veteran who lived through the zombie apocalypse.

“Sit down Batman, you look like you just got the Dark Night Rises treatment.” You scoffed, shoving him back into his chair gently as you could. “Let your Robin handle this one.” You do a silly little salute and flex your bicep, causing Foggy to giggle and Matt to roll his eyes. You kiss the side of Matt’s head, and gather up your things.

He does that head tilt thing you enjoy so much, and you lean down to kiss him on the lips. “Okay Robin, just… be safe.” You squeeze his shoulder, and you turn to the babies, blowing raspberries on their cheeks just to hear them giggle then you’re out the door in a flash.

The walk to the Thai place isn’t a long one, it’s two blocks, approximately a twenty minute maybe thirty minute affair all together. Ten minutes there, possible ten minutes for wait time if needed, ten minutes back. Matt conjured the familiar route in his mind. He passed the coffee shop and the dry cleaners then he hooks a left, the deli, the bodega, and a nail salon and he makes a right. Then it’s a straight shot to the end of the street and he’s at the Thai place. It’s perfectly timed, and factoring in the possibility that they forgot something adding maybe another fifteen to twenty, it should take you at most an hour. Which is why when the hour thirty mark passes, he starts to panic.

“Robin isn’t back yet.” He says, cutting out the chatter of the adults in the room who were taking the time to admire how adorable the kids are.

“It’s probably fine Matty, they probably just forgot something.” Karen shrugs, turning back to Jackie who is showing off her little bingo and muffin toys, while Michael grabs at Foggy’s nose.

“Yeah bud, also gotta factor in the pregnancy bit, she’s gonna be a little slower.” Foggy soothes, and playfully nips at his son’s fingertips.

Matt dosent believe it though, something feels… off. He can’t put a finger on it, but it’s no good. That’s when he realizes, if you were late, you would call. You always call, whether it’s to complain about the walk, or when you think something is taking too long, you always can him so you’re not bored, and he hadn’t heard anything from you. “But if it was just that she would ca-“ his phone starts ringing and announcing your name throughout the room and his shoulders slump in relief.

“See?” Foggy smiles, “Told yah buddy,

Your Robin is a tough cookie, nothing to worry about.”

Matt took a deep breath and picked up the phone, but the voice on the other end made him ridged with terror all over again.

Everything was going fine. You had the Thai food, you had stoped to get a hot chocolate, it was all good in the hood. You were walking back slowly but surely, wondering if you could hold all of your goodies in one hand and call Matt, when you were yanked into a back alley. You let out a yelp and were slammed against a wall, instantly dropping your food and drink in favor of cradling both hands protectively over your stomach.

“Drop the case.” A gruff voice grunted, pointing a gun directly at the center of your forehead. You blanched and stuttered, praying that somewhere out there maybe Matt got worried and your personal hell hound of a vigilante would save you… but you doubted it.

“Wh- what?” Your head whipped to the side and you slumped as the guy bashed you across the head with the butt of his gun.

“Now. I’m not playing, pregnant or not it’s all the same to me, and I want the case dropped, and I want your purse.” You trembled from your place on the ground, ridged with terror. You reached a shaky hand to your temple and felt it coated in blood. Your assailant yanked you by the hair and forced you to look up. His nose and mouth were covered by a black bandanna, he was wearing a black hat with his black hoodie pulled over it. None of his clothing had any particular markers or labels, but his eyes. His eyes were what made your skin crawl they were brown, but not the soft warm brown of your husbands eyes, they were like hardened pools of obsidian, dark, terrifying, and immovable. He smacked you again, bludgeoning your cheek, then he pulled cocked the gun and leveled it squarely between your eyes. “I. Said. Now.”

The next few seconds were a blur, you ripped the bag from your shoulder, handing it to him and as soon as he had it, he grabbed your hair again. He threatened you, you were sure. Some macho, threatening, bullshit, to try and back you down. When he was done, he ran, and you were… immobile.

The first feeling was fear, your body shook, silent tears streaming, your hands covered your mouth as you stared wide eyed at nothing. Complete and utter shock and terror causing your whole body to freeze in place. You feel as if one little wrong move could send you shattering to pieces and it’s such foreign feeling you barely breathe with the weight of it.

The next tidal wave swells and the panic settles in. Your hands flying to your belly in sheer horror. You press gently, tears streaming and your sniffing them back and sobbing and trying to feel something, anything from your baby.

“Mh- Ah- it’s okay! You’re okay!” You talk half stammering and half shrieking trying to calm yourself enough to concentrate on your little bump. “Okay, okay little one, just- kick, move, at this point I don’t give a shit if it’s hiccups jus-“ a tiny kick pressed into your palms and you dissolved once more into heavy, wrenching sobs, half in relief half in terror. “Oh- oh God. Okay!”

Then you were hit with a feeling you didn’t expect. Shame, hot and visceral bouts of shame. Who were you just then, freezing up like that. You’ve been drugged by vampires, you’ve sown up your husbands knife wounds, hell, you have tased Frank Castle for fucks sake, why were you freezing up now. Why didn’t you defend yourself? What the hell is wrong with you? You hated yourself for this reaction. You sat, trembling for god knows how long, just staring blankly at the wall and sobbing silently into your trembling palm while the other rested over your bump. Then you heard a soft ‘thwip!’ and you were in the presence of Spider-Man.

Peter was horrified. He was flipping through the neighborhood when his spider senses started tingling. He ran into the alley and there she was. Robin.

“Peter. Why do you have Robin’s phone?” Matt practically growled down the line, and he could hear the panic in the kids voice.

“R-Robin! Sh-she- I- I found her in an alley! She’s not talking, she’s got a cut on her face a-and a giant bruise! You gotta get here Matt it’s- it’s bad and I’m scared. We’re right by the Thai place.” Peter stuttered and Matt immediately stood and ripped off his tie and shirt revealing his Daredevil suit to those in the room.

“Stay where you are Peter, I’ll be there.” Everyone in the room looked terrified, Marci and Foggy clutched the children and Karen scrambled to call Frank. “Watch the kids, Robin was hurt.” He roared, rocketing out of a window the moment he was changed.

The whole way there Matt was almost numb with fury and terror. What happened to you? Are you hurt? Is the baby? He ran I’ve buildings with blinding speed, back he damned, he would be hurting later, but you were worth it, your safety was worth it. When he finally found you, Spiderman was holding you firmly to his chest, whispering words of comfort as best he could, and trying to help you stop sobbing through his own tears. Matt could smell the fear coming off you both in waves, and he found himself immensely thankful that you were able to consider Peter a friend.

“Oh my Angel,” Matt gasped finally pulling you from Peter and softly feeling at your face with the tips of his fingers to find any possible damage. Your tears only seemed to fall harder when you collapsed into his arms and it was gut wrenching. Nothing was broken, but the heat of the bruises and the acrid tang of your blood was prominent in his nose and mouth, the taste and smell of it in the air making him want to gag. “Shh, it’s okay now. I have you.” Matt curled you into his chest, your legs wrapped around his waist. Your forehead rested against his, and he had one hand fluttering around your lower back and stomach listening gratefully to the two rapids but steady heart beats that thudded under his palm, and the other hand held the back of your neck, massaging in tight circles while he let you cry.

“I- I didn’t- he- he pointed a gun at me! I panicked! I’m so sorry! I couldn’t move! I tried though I did! I was frozen and I was so scared!” You sobbed and stuttered, clutching desperately at any part of Matt you could reach, and he could hear the hysteria in your voice. “He- he took m- my pur- purse! There wa- was court documents in there! He took them! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t- I should have- I’m so scared!” Oh how his heart broke. He could hear the thudding of boots down the alley and from the bull reaction from Peter, he would assume it was more of their friends. From the smell and the pattern of footsteps it was most likely Frank and MoonKnight. “I’m so scared Matt! I didn’t know what to do and I was scared!” You wept then and he could hear the gasps and shocked silence at his back and he didn’t know wether to hate it or be grateful for it. “I was so- I was so scared!”

“Honey- no! Hey! No need to apologize!” You had gripped at your roots, and Matt slowly reached up to unclench your hands from your hair, making you release your fierce grip before you hurt yourself. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did fine, you protected yourself, you protected the baby. That’s all you needed to do.” His voice broke on his last assurance and you gave a strangled cry in your throat before you started to shake your head again.

“I just let him hurt me, I didn’t fight back I should- I should have fought back. I’m a fighter, but I couldn’t- I.” You started crying again and behind him he heard Frank get low and approach as if he was cornering a wounded and terrified animal, and for all intents and purposes he was.

“Hey sweetheart, look at me.” Frank grumbles low in his chest and waited patiently until your eyes met his. “Nobody here is saying you aren’t strong, that you’re not capable. The only thing we care about right now is that you’re ok. Are you ok? Can you move?” You nodded, unsure but unwilling to admit otherwise. “Hey tiger, I know you wanna say yes, but I’m asking because we gotta move and if you’re hurt and we start gunning like you’re not, we could get caught. So tell the truth now, are you hurt?” Matt sighed and let out a strangled moan when you finally nodded the affirmative. “Okay, okay. So let’s get up, and get to your place, and then we can go about figuring out what to do about whatever son of a fuck did this to you.” Frank stood, and they all followed. Including Matt, who didn’t even think about letting you down. “Okay, I’m gonna take the girl, because I’m the only guy not in Spandex right now.” He reached for you and Matt growled. “Listen to me Red, I wouldn’t let her go either, but you’re in red and gold spandex, and you can’t get a cab, and walking will be too slow. You will get caught and then you would leave her hurt and alone.” They had a stare off and at this point you had half passed out and Moon knight was diligently talking and asking you questions and lightly shaking your shoulder to keep you awake. All the excess stimuli was not helping him calm down but then Jake but in as well.

“Listen amigo, my cab is just around the corner. Frank and I are gonna walk her there, we’re gonna get in, and we’re gonna take her back to your place. We cant risk getting seen or pulled over. So, ¿Qué va a ser?” He looked Matt in the eyes, hard, and eventually he handed you to Frank.

“N-No! Matt!” Frank half you as you tried to struggle and panicked. Matt put his hands on either side of your face and shushed you to try and calm you and ran his hands through your hair.

“Hey! Sh sh sh sh sh! Don’t fight okay? It’s ok Robin. We gotta move careful ok? We gotta be safe. We’re splitting up, because I can’t risk us getting stopped.” He nodded, and you started shaking your head, you’re exhausted, you’re a bit delirious, and you were still terrified. “Hey, hey! You gotta stay calm. You gotta go with them. I’m right behind you. It’s gonna be fine. Go with Frank.” The way his heart shattered when he pried your fingers from his suit was absolute torture and it broke his heart all over again.

Then he was flipping across Hell’s Kitchen, throwing himself from place to place until-

“I warned her off. Banger her up reeeeal nice. She’ll think twice before her little buddies at the office go through with it.” He heard the guy chuckle, “I even got her purse. Had some good eve since in it too. You almost went down man.” He cracked his neck, and waited. Spiderman had the forethought to follow and stop, listening to what he was hearing, and doing one better, pulling out his phone and Matt’s. He dials Frank and starts filming. Once he feels he’s heard enough, heard enough bolstering about the incident, he ends the video, and stands to tell Frank what’s going on, and then he leaves Matt with a nod.

“Do your worst. We’ll see you when you’re done.” With that the kid disappears, and the devil? Well, the devil smells blood.

Matt takes a deep breath and cocks his head to the side. Listening. Three heartbeats, six guns. Two in use four laying around. No back up upstairs. There was coke and weed, two were on their way to drunk, the perp was taking a bump. He still smelled like your perfume. He was sure if he was a shark, his pupils would dilate. Like blood in the water.

He hit the breaker, and when the buzzing stopped, he went in.

“What the fuck? Why is it dark?” Matt took a deep breath, then he attacked. Crony one was a one hit wonder. One good hit to the back of the head, he was out like a light, and he could hear his jaw and nose fracture as he hit the table in front of him on the way down. Guy number two, two hits and he was gone, a bloody eye and lip for all his troubles. Guy number three though? Oh, that was where the game began.

“What the fu-“ Matt kicked him to the ground without a thought, then he drove his fists into his stomach over and over and over, until the man was heaving blood onto the cement.

“Do you feel big?” He growled, his boot grinding into the man’s testicles as he stood above him, hope the guy didn’t want kids. “Hurting that woman, did it solve some shitty little power trip for you?” He spit in the man’s face and the asshole whimpered. “How about now, how’s this feeling?” He kicked the man in the temple, right where the bastard had hit you with the butt of his gun. Then he got low and pummeled him over and over where your other bruise would be until his hands were covered in red. “Well, now you’re fucked.” He growled, snapping the man’s arm. Then blowing out his knee, then busting his nose. “You’re lucky I don’t like to play god, or you’d be meeting your maker a lot sooner than expected.” Once the asshole had passed out, Matt tied all three men to chairs, then called the police. He gave them the location, who was calling, and told them he had escorted you to safety, and where they could find you to interview you. He waited just long enough for the police to show, then he left. These men deserved not one more ounce of his time, you were the only thing that mattered.

When he arrived back home, you had passed out with your daughter on the bed. Claire had apparently looked you over and patched you up, and a cop had already taken your statement. The others were all gathered in his living room. Their faces were pale, and he felt their wide eyed stares like static electricity arcing off his skin. Foggy, Karen, Peter, Jake, and Frank had all just stood silently when he came in and shoved through them, once he saw that you and the baby were safe, he stood and waited for their assessment.

“Hey Red, did you get em?” Frank started, reaching out a hand gently, as if tempering a rabid dog. He nodded stiffly, and when he heard Jake move to the kitchen, his head snapped in his direction and the man paused. “Hey, no enemies here man, just friends. He’s gonna get you a rag, your hands-“ he gave a sardonic chuckle. “They’re dripping blood, and knowing your old lady? Well, as soon as she wakes up and is back in fighting shape, she’ll kick your ass.” His shoulders dropped, and he allowed Frank to pat his shoulder. “There he is, did you get em?” Matt gave another jerking nod, and his laser focus narrowed in on Karen and Foggy.

“Go home, inform the Judge of what happened and get this dropped. Spiderman emailed a video of the perps openly discussing the assault. The case is over.” Foggy nodded and patted him on the back in his way out. Karen nodded, and gave him a hug. She never did mind the blood. Frank gave her a kiss on the head, and assured her he would be home soon. Jake gave him the cloth, then offered to drive Karen and Foggy home. Foggy declined, saying he had drove them here, and Karen took him up on it. He patted Matt’s back, and whispered him an affirmation in Spanish before leaving. Peter told him he would make sure that everything was okay at the office before heading home, then it was just him and Frank.

“Now listen Red, go shower off, take a deep breath, pour yourself a drink, then be prepared for a shitty night of sleep. She’s gonna need you. We will take care of everything else in the morning. Karen and I will come get the kid at 9 for daycare, you focus on her.” Matt hardly heard him, but he knew enough to nod in gratitude before locking up behind Frank.

Then he took his advice. He meticulously scrubbed the blood from his hands, from under his nails, from his face. Then he got out, and he walked and stood by the bed, resting a palm on Jackie’s back and listened to you both breathing, straining his ears for the thump thump thumping of three heart beats, then he checked all of the doors and windows, and drank a glass of whiskey. When he was sufficiently calm again, he picked up Jackie and carefully carried her to bed, staying for a while to listen to her peaceful slumber. Then he heard your heart rate speeding up, and he made it back to your room just in time to catch you as you flailed awake.

“Shh, I’m here Robin, you’re safe, the babies are safe. The guy is gone. He won’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.” He soothed as you began to cry again, and there you sat for a good thirty minutes, clinging to each other until your tears subsided.

“Goddamn Batman,” you finally rasped, feeling all cried out, “That was-“

“Yeah. Yeah it was Robin. But we’re ok. I promise.” Your trembling had slowed, and Matt continued to rub soothing circles into your back and scrunched his hand in your hair and gently scratched your scalp.

“Thanks for getting him Batman.” You sighed, burying your face in Matt’s neck, mm, warm cinnamon and leather. Your favorites.

“Oh Robin, my Angel, for my family? I’d burn the city to the ground.”

You sat in silence with that statement for a second, and while it should have been a little bit frightening, instead your shoulders relaxed, your body calmed, and you felt at peace for the first time in three hours.

“Oh my sweet devil man, for you? I’d burn the world.” Then you sighed, and fell asleep on his chest, and Matt took a deep breath, and smiled.

“I have no doubt of it sweetheart, I have no doubt.”

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