#one day destruction entered the front door of my house

[youngjedisubs]

Doom at Your Service

[TVING WEB-DL]

COMPLETE (16 Eps.)

[muschiettistrashmouth]

Push, Push - Egon Spengler | Ghostbusters

Warnings: SMUT!!! There's some time since I last wrote some smut, so... yeah

Requested? No

Words: 1231

Summary: Reader is dancing and all Egon wanna do is fuck her right there.

For those who thought that Egon was not sexually active because he was so focused on the laboratory, they were completely wrong. Ever since he started dating the fifth member of Ghostbusters, he started to loosen up more. Going out with friends more to the bar, even though he wasn't 100% sure that it was something he loved doing, but if it made his girlfriend happy, he was happy too.

This was one of those nights, where Egon was at the bar table with the other ghostbusters, his hand was lovingly holding y/n's, and he was having a friendly discussion about how they were getting on with their individual jobs now that they weren't ghostbusting anymore.

The bar's radio was tuned to the 1986 charts, when a song by the band Cinderella started playing. Push, Push was a song that y/n really liked, whether to sing or to tease Egon with the completely suggestive lyrics. She got up from where she was and dragged Winston's girlfriend with her to dance nearby where more people were dancing. With each beat of the song, her hips moved sensually, making Egon swallow hard. It's not like he was paying attention to what Ray and Peter were saying at that moment.

Winston was drinking his beer while facing his girlfriend, Cinthia, across the bar, raised his glass in a sort of toast and smiled. The scientist swallowed again, his glasses were slipping down his nose and he felt his pants tighten more than they already were. Every moment the girl danced, the harder he became. It was like a spell.

“Egon has gone bye-bye, Ray.” Peter mocked his friend who kept his mouth half open still in shock.

“Spengz?” Ray passed his hand in the air in front of Egon's eyes, making the man shake his head to wake up from the trance and look at the smaller boy.

“Yes, Ray?”

“You’re drooling.” He mocked Egon with a laugh when the older man put his hand over his mouth to wipe away some saliva that obviously wasn't there.

The scientist rolled his eyes at the joke.

“You’re as funny as that comedian ghost we faced a few days after we saved the world from complete destruction.” He said in one breath before his girlfriend returned to the table, breathing heavily.

“What are we talking about?”

“About how funny Ray is, apparently.” Winston laughed, opening his arms to accommodate his own girlfriend.

“It’s a little late, don’t you think?” Egon asked, completely changing the subject. His girlfriend's hand was resting on his thigh as she used her free hand to bring her glass to her mouth, taking a sip of her beer.

“Okay, we have to wake up early tomorrow.” y/n he said innocently. “I have to visit my parents and Egon is going with me.”

Egon raised his hand to get the waiter's attention, mentally thanking the table for covering anything that could embarrass him at that moment.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

When they entered the house, Egon wasted no time in pinning her against the wall, closing the door with his foot.

“Wow, calm down, big guy.” The girl's voice contained a tone of laughter in the background as Egon's mouth explored his neck. “What got you like this?”

“As if you didn’t know…” The brunette murmured against the her ear, leaving her with goosebumps.

“Was it the dancing?” She held back her laughter, this wasn't the time to make him think she was laughing at him. He just shook his head positively, he didn't trust his voice to speak.

She bit her lower lip, running her hands down Egon's chest to the waistband of his pants and pulling him impossibly closer.

“Do something about it then, Dr Spengler.” Now she was on tiptoe, speaking into the scientist's ear. The man picked her up and took her to the room they shared, with each step she took, she felt more and more how hard he was.

“Egon-” her voice was no more than a sigh. Anything the man did drove her crazy.

Egon took the heels off her feet with all the delicacy in the world, that was one of the things that the girl loved so much about him, the delicacy he had with her, even though he was as desperate as he was.

She spread her legs with her feet against the mattress, her skirt riding up and getting around her thighs, giving him a full view of her wet panties and thighs. The scientist held her by the thighs, leaving light kisses on the area, sometimes he left bites there, making her gasp.

“Please…” She pouted as she stared at him between her legs. That was her mistake, as he was looking her straight in the eyes when she ran her tongue over his soaked panties.

"Fuck!" He smiled sideways, holding the cloth to the side to access the wet intimacy more precisely. He might seem shy at first, but the man was a god in bed, all the anatomy books and magazines that Peter had lent him when he was in college made him understand the subject like no one else. The girl's moans filled the room, her hand pulling Egon's hair tightly as he devoured her like a starving man. When he felt that she was almost giving in completely to orgasm, Egon removed his face from where it was, getting up from the bed to quickly take off his clothes.

He threw all the pieces of clothing anywhere on the floor, his tomorrow self could take care of that alone, and climbed back onto the bed to help her take off her blouse and bra. His smile grew wider when he saw her breasts exposed.

He left a small hickey on each of her nipples and took off her clothes again, finally leaving her completely naked.

“I could live with this vision every day.” He commented before kissing her, letting her taste herself in his mouth.

The girl's hand crept between their bodies until she found the man's pulsing member and guided it to her entrance. He entered slowly so as not to hurt her, it was no wonder she called him big boy.

As he entered her completely, Egon pressed his temple against her neck, waiting until she told him to move when she was ready to do so. When she moved on the bed, he got the message, starting to move his hips quickly against her. They both moaned as if they didn't have neighbors, at this point it didn't matter.

“I'm almost there-” she was breathless, one of her hands grabbed the back of his head, while the other scratched his back. Egon thrust a few more times against her intimacy, his thumb moving against her clitoris as she liked best.

“Cum for me, baby.” He murmured against her ear with a completely hoarse voice, making her let out a little scream when he finally came. Egon spilled himself inside her almost at the same time, leaving a small bite on a part of her neck that he knew she could cover with her hair.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡

When they were finally lying in bed, her head on his chest while he caressed her arm, she began to laugh softly.

“I need to dance to this song more often if this is going to be your reaction every time…”

[aayakashii]

touch starved

small fic after I saw @berrygoodjob hc about Alan being touch starved...... couldnt stop thinking about it afterwards. This might have a part 2 if I get more ideas, but we'll see.

Gender neutral MC mostly (mention of a skirt). English isn't my 1st language so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

Also, I usually post on ao3 so this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr, if the formatting is wonky, I'm sorry!!

Edit: changed it to 2nd person pov to match the future chapters.

"Captain?" you knocked gently on the hardwood door right on front of you. It looked sturdy and way too thick for a normal bedroom door, but then again, this is the room of a ghoul.

You wiped the sweat of your palms on your skirt, afraid you'd somehow smudge Professor Dante's careful handwriting as you clenched the papers against your chest.

You hated doing this. Not necessarily presenting another batch of mission papers, no. Even if a mission puts your neck on the line, there are some ghouls you could trust in a heartbeat, like most of the boys from Frostheim and Jabberwock.

What you hated is being right there. In that exact place.

You hated being in Vagastrom.

"Captain? Alan, are you there?" you knocked again, a bit more forcefully this time, since maybe he just didn't hear you behind the door.

The smell of musk and sweat was everywhere in that place, suffocating you, making your heart race with anxiety and fear for your safety.

There were men everywhere, wherever you looked. Scary, burly, big, probably-loose-with-their-morals men who followed you, hungrily, with their eyes, whenever you strode inside the garage and into the dorm rooms.

They wouldn't come near you, though. They knew messing with you was messing with not only their captain, but the captains of other houses and Darkwick itself. Being cursed an honor student had its perks.

What you dreaded, in fact, was seeing Vagastrom's vice-captain. The cunning, untrustworthy, venomous, undeserving of his position as vice-captain, Kurosagi Leo. You shivered thinking about his lifeless eyes and smile filled with hidden intentions – he was the true reason why you despised being in Vagastrom.

The door opened right before you lifted your hand to knock a third time as your anxiety peaked as you thought about Leo.

"What are you doing here?" the man in front of you gasped in surprise upon seeing you before him.

"I told you to send me a message before coming to Vagastrom if you ever needed to talk... You're not supposed to walk alone around here" the Vagastrom Captain sighed after lightly scolding you "Come, you can enter."

Alan was different, though.

You followed behind him, staring at his broad back, while his right hand massaged his left shoulder. His room smelled like eucalyptus, a welcome respite, and you breathed in deeply the comforting scent while he turned around and looked at you.

Alan was nothing like Leo.

People would talk and talk about his past, about how he was a scary deliquent who might have killed someone; about how he must be terrifyingly powerful if he controlled all of those delinquents on his own for so long; about how his stigma is made for destruction and pain; but every single day, all you could see were the way his eyes were kind and gentle as he looked at you.

"Are you okay?" he said, stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his pants, shoulders stiff as ever "No one messed with you?"

"No, no," you shook your head, smiling to prove you were in one piece. "Everyone always leaves me alone in here. You don't need to worry. They know I work with the ghouls, so I guess that's all the protection I need. The only threat here is Leo, but he only threatens my mental health, to be fair." you said, laughing humorlessly.

Alan winced and looked apologetic at your comment.

"... Sorry. I still gotta learn to control him."

You shook your head once again.

"It's not your fault, Alan. You're a great captain." you smiled. "Speaking of being a captain, Professor Dante asked me to deliver these papers to you. It's a bureaucratic mission though, no outside work. Apparently, there are some student records missing, something in regards to personal information being omitted by some students."

Alan gently grabbed the papers from your hands, surveying the information as he sat down on the couch in the middle of his room.

He sighed deeply after scanning all the papers, rubbing his temples in a manner he probably have picked up from Frostheim's vice-captain, and slumped against the back cushion.

"Um... Is everything okay, Alan?" you asked, sitting beside him.

"... Yes. Just... a bit tired." he murmured.

You hummed in thought, surveying his face as he stared blankly at the ceiling. The dark circles under his eyes were very obvious under the fluorescent lights.

"Have you been sleeping properly? Resting?" you asked, tilting your head, trying to make eye contact with his reddened and tired eyes.

"Can't. Work has been piling up."

"You know you won't be able to work well if you're burnt out, don't you? Even ghouls need to rest, no matter how strong they are."

"..."

The extremely stoic man stayed silent, avoiding your gaze at all costs. For someone everyone called scary, he could act like a kid who had been caught with their hand inside a cookie jar at moments.

You sighed.

Your hand moved on its own before you could even register what you were doing. You felt the unexpected silk of his hair against your fingertips as you patted his head to comfort him, much like he had done to yourself many times previously.

Except, instead of gladly accepting it like you usually do, Alan flinched and scooted away from you and your hand, staring at your face, mouth agape and eyes wide in shock.

"I'm sorry!" you said, not sure of what you had done wrong, while shutting your eyes and putting your hands up like you were a bank robber who just had been caught by the police. "I was just! I didnt... I mean... I'm sorry!"

"Ghhh!"

You tentatively opened your eyes, hands still up, after hearing Alan emit what could only be described as a choking sound.

The Vagastrom Captain, Alan Mido, one of the scariest men in Darkwick Academy, had one of his hands covering his face as he stared wide-eyed at you.

And he was beet red.

"I. Uh. I'm. Uh..." he gasped, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

Your head raced, a million miles per hour, as you saw him look away from your eyes, trying to put distance between the both of you on the sofa and get into terms with his own sudden embarrassment.

'Huh? Is he worried about hurting me? But… I thought his stigma only worked on his hands? Maybe my enhancement ability makes it work wherever I touch? Is that why he's so worried? But he wasn't even moving when I patted his head, maybe he was just caught off guard by me touching... him... Oh.'

Alan tried to recompose himself, still looking everywhere, but your direction. His cheeks still flushed red, while he scrunched his eyebrows in what appeared to be confusion, as if he wasn't understanding his own reaction as well.

'Oh. He's... incredibly touch starved, isn't he?' The thought dropped into your mind, like a single coin dropping into a fountain. Drip. And you were fully unable to shake it off.

It made sense despite it all, you figured. People barely approached Alan, as he was seen as a God by his house-mates and as a criminal by those outside Vagastrom.

He was incredibly hard to approach, his quiet personality making it hard to talk to him and his stoicism making it hard to figure out what he could be thinking.

Yet, there he was, like an open book. His red cheeks, stuttering words and wandering eyes saying exactly what he was thinking – what he wanted.

Before you could talk again or act on any more impulses, Alan forced a few dry coughs and cleaned his throat, picking up the papers once again as he got up fast from his seat. His face gradually went back to his usual color, and so did his stoic expression.

"Well, I will get to work on this as soon as I finish my job at the garage. Thanks for the delivery." he shook the papers way too eagerly. "Will message you once we can start working. Please close the door once you leave."

Alan strode away fast, still avoiding any and all eye contact, and quickly left you alone in his room. You stared at the diligently closed hardwood door that seemed to create an ocean of distance between him and yourself, barely forming a coherent thought.

Outside, two little Like Doves peered inside the small windows near the ceiling, daring you to start creating scenarios in your head.

You shook your head, trying to get rid of any speculations of your own. Creating scenarios was a job for the you before sleep, the one who had time to feel anxious and overthink your daily situations.

And if your phone beeping was any signal, right now you had other ghouls to assist.

[fastlikealambo]

holy crowns || paul atreides x black! fem reader

it was supposed to be your sister, your bene gesserit trained sister molded by the great houses, spy for the imperium. with no warning, paul chooses you instead and changes your life forever. some call him messiah, others an abomination, but you will call him husband. 18+only, minors dni note: hello! this takes place after the events of dune part two and Paul is about to become emperor. Irulan and her father are in exile and Chani is gone. i'm so sorry for the wait, I've been writing and rewriting this chapter, and even now I'm not sure if I have Paul's voice right. I hope you like it!

tw: paul has some quick naughty thoughts!

if you wish to see the story continue on beyond this chapter, please comment or reblog!

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

CHAPTER THREE

THE STEEL IS THE WATER.

Paul Atreides did not dream, he augured.

What great and terrible things existed beneath his eyelids, a pocket world of hope, atrocities, and hopeful atrocities all at the command of the young emperor. 

He was still young, wasn’t he?

There were times when he looked upon his own reflection and saw a thousand Fremen faces, no eyes nor mouth, just Paradise.

 In the corner of his lips, he stole a glimpse of Chani.

At night, in the very edges of his vision, Paul stared at himself and his father stared back.

Yet now, the emperor’s visions turned to you  in bed, still adjusting to the heat, sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning.

He could hold you still to rest if he wanted to, flatten the stress crease between your brows. The sweat between your breasts would not be wasted water for Paul, the tongue of the outer world would lap quick and perhaps venture further south-

No, it was not time.

Paul's sight moved from sleeping you to hundreds of thousands of visions in a single second, your past and futures laid out before your soon to be husband. 

He saw your daughter learning to sandwalk, he heard the laughter of his grandson echoing from Caladan and through his mind’s eye. 

So much love and destruction in between then and now.

  “You give the sister absolute power over the Bene Gesserit, why?” Jessica asked, not bothering to knock before entering Paul’s rooms, ripping him back into the present.

  “So the sisterhood falls in line under me, as you have done, as Alia will do. The sister is the key but I am the door, Mother.”

“Power over the Bene Gesserit is earned, the choice of Mother Superior takes planning yet you give it like a wedding present.”

 “Why does it bother you? You created the prophecy, I led the Fremen through it, the holy war has ended. You have everything you want, and now my bride and her sister are the future of the empire you desired. Is it because you can no longer whisper in my ear?”

Paul loved Lady Jessica.

But long gone were the days of Jessica’s son and he caught the way she looked at him now.

 Reverence, amusement, and just a whiff of fear she believed to be hidden from him but there was nothing anyone, Bene Gesserit or desert mouse, could hide from him, The Water of Life had seen to that.

Lady Jessica had birthed Shai Hulud in human form and yet still wondered why he swallowed the world. 

      “You turned away the most powerful family for an alliance and have given a nameless house two seats at our table. Your new  bride has no training, no rank and you bestow upon your almost assassin the sacred sisterhood.  I’m worried for you, Paul.” Lady Jessica said, kneeling in front of Paul, her son, her product.

   Paul took his mother’s hand gently and looked her in the eye.

THERE IS NO OUR TABLE.

 I AM THE TABLE.

 I AM THE WOOD THAT CARVED IT.

 I AM THE STEEL BENEATH YOUR FEET.

WHEN YOU CRY FOR LETO I AM YOUR WATER.

THERE IS ONLY ME.

“Do we understand each other?”

Jessica was gone before Paul could blink.

He turned his sight back to you, present you, but you were not there.

Lady Jessica had not brought worry to her son, but a distraction.

You had been taken. 

Again, I’m sorry this took so long but I hope it is worth the wait! Thank you for reading!

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[heartfullofleeches]

Hiii can you please revive my dearest lovely human husband x monster reader?? I had a thought that maybe while Evan was working, monster reader decided “mmm my husband deserves a nice fresh catch for dinner” and dips???? I wanna see angsty insanity LMAO

Coming back home dragging a mountain lion or something, so innocent so sweet I love monster reader

Your alarm goes off.

Roused from slumber, you wipe drool from your chin as you strech; hunger hitting you in the same vein as consciousness. You check the clock for the time. 1pm. Lunch time.

You climb off the couch, getting out those last few nicks from the uncomfortable position. Your husband would scold you for such, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. You scurry into the kitchen, ripping the refrigerator doors open to retrieve your food. Containers for the next few days fill the compartment, separated by color coordination and times written in bold cursive. You grab the one for the current time and place it in the microwave; your stomach twisting pain from the thought of your upcoming meal alone as it starts to heat up. Roasted meat and a floral soup. That man spoiled you.

You take your spot at the table and flip through the notebook placed on it for your note of the hour.1

"Hey, Precious! Today's main course is leftovers, but I hope the soup makes up for it. I added some cauliflower because you need to eat more veggies when you're able. Love you, make sure the doors are locked and you're taking care of yourself. I'll be home by nine today because I wanted to get a little overtime in before our vacation, but I'll make it up to you this weekend."

You close the book, looking down at the band around your fourth finger. Your stomach still howls, but a different feeling takes over as you twist it around. Evan really did spoil you. Even before you became his spouse he made sure you had a proper home and were always fed. You went from eating every other week, to three meals a day plus snacks. It was small at first. You lived in a shoebox apartment and could only go out at night, but now you lived in a nice big home and the world is your oyster. There had to be something you could do in return.

Cleaning up the house and taking care of shopping was one thing, but they paled in comparison to everything he's done in your six years of partnership. Taking the first bite of your food, the idea hits you. You'll make him dinner! Not with the store brought stuff, but with meat you caught with your own two hands. He'll surely love it and it'll be the perfect start to your long week together on vacation.

You finish your meal quickly, making your escape through the backyard to avoid the public eye.

-

"One.. Two.. Three.. Okay."

Evan unlocks the last lock on your front door with a sigh of relief. You had to be careful even in the best of neighborhoods. He pushes the door - but it doesn't open all the way, blocked by a chain.

"That's still in? Normally they unlock it before I get here." He mutters to himself, raising his voice as he shouts. "Sweetie? You up? Can you open the door?"

No answer. You must be dreaming good then. Evan wedges his hand through the door and undoes the chain himself. He doesn't even take off his coat when he enters, gunning straight for your location. Seeing the couch empty raises a few flags. He told you not to sleep there, but it was always a new opportunity for another lockscreen photo.

"Muffin?" Evan ascends the stairs, gently knocking on the walls in hopes to stir you from your slumber before he reaches the bedroom. The cold steel of the knob only increases his worries which sky rocket as he opens the door; the room completely void of life.

"Y/n?.. H-honey?" The pet name comes out in a quiver. He tears the pillows and blankets from the bed as if you were hiding inside. His rain of destruction rings through the entire house as he tears it apart in search for you. He's hyperventilating by the time he reaches the kitchen, fat tears rolling down his face. He sees your dishes left on the table and his fears take over. He tries to catch his breath through his sobs, pulling at his hair and patting his face.

"Calm down. Calm down. Y/n hasn't been taken from you. They haven't left you. They're probably just, fuck-... taking a walk! Y-yeah, they're on a walk. I'll call them, and they'll hurry back as soon as they can."

Evan pulls out his phone and does what he should've when he first noticed your disappearance. There's no answer, but ever so faintly, he can hear a familiar ring. He calls again, stepping towards the backdoor. He's reluctant to open the door as your failure to answer can't mean anything good, but a soft shuffling has him damn near tearing it off its hinges. He rushes outside-

"Baby?"

Eyes reflecting the golden moonlight stare back at him. Body riddled in scrapes and bites, you hold a mountain lion by its neck in your human teeth; your lower mouth still dripping with the saliva that brought the beast to its end. You drop your catch with a look of disappointment.

"I didn't even get it in the oven before you came back...."

"Y/n!" Evan runs over and picks you up with all the strength his workouts have given him; the sting of your flowing blood null against his trained body. He kisses up a storm over your face, making sure to give both mouths at least a dozen kisses before he places you down to look at the severity of your injuries.

"Dove, look at these wounds! You could've gotten yourself killed!"

You lick the scratch closes to your shoulder, closing it with your spit. "Wanted to surprise you with dinner... So I didn't feel like I'm taking you for granted."

Tears of happiness replace those of sorrow. "Oh, sweetheart- you could never take me for granted, because I could never physically express how much you mean to me. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."

You purr as he kisses your wet cheek. "I love you too."

Evan takes your hand, the grass around his feet dyed red. He laughs. "I really appreciate your hunt - but let's just order takeout for tonight."

[penvisions]

return the favor {chapter 21}

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

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

Word Count: 5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And where is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spit back out in such a damning way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That you believed it was hopeless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[cissyenthusiast010155]

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

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

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

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

Enjoy (;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H-hey…” she practically whispered.

“Rita, Hi, is everything alright?”

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

“Rita?” You asked, your concern growing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A slow nod.

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

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

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

Rita took some more deep breaths before stammering,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded and then sighed yourself.

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

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

“Thanks” you muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks…” she whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bit your lip and sighed.

“No…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…” Rita stammered, “I don’t know…”

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

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

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

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

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

“B-but how do you know that…?”

You sighed.

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

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

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

You smiled lightly and cupped Rita’s face.

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

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

~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

Alex Cabot Masterlist

Olivia Benson Masterlist

Rita Calhoun Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

Elizabeth Donnelly Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

Rafael Barba Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

[simp-ly-writes]

A Shadow Company Visit (pt.4)

PSA: This can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Commander Philip Graves x Reader & Shadows

Summary: What happens when you get kidnapped?

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

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

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

↳ "This is Shadow-01"

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[zero00kiryu00]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can take care of you, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am enough.”

[theladyofbloodshed]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A soft knock sounded at the door then Elain entered.

‘You did not sleep at all.’

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

‘Do I look so terrible?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘No. None of that is necessary.’

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

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

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

‘I must enter through the window?’

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

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

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

The noise would rouse attention.

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

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

‘Please, sit.’

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

‘Azriel.’

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

‘Nesta,’ he breathed.

‘Sit,’ she repeated.

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

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

‘I can shield us.’

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

Azriel added, ‘If you permit it.’

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

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

‘Oh. Nobody will know you are here?’

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

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

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

‘Well. Happy.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘The siphon.’

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

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

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

‘Have you been unwell?’

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

‘No.’

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

‘A little worried,’ she conceded.

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

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

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

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

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

Unannounced, Azriel asked, ‘Do you play?’

His eyes flickered towards the pianoforte.

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

‘Poorly,’ she admitted.

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

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

It broke the spell on Nesta.

‘They’ve never done that before.’

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

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

[eruden-writes]

Self-Destructive Life Choices - Part 1

Boss x Employee Orc x Human May not continue

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

x x x

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

Again, not sure if I'll continue this.

[panickedpenguin]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

William "Billy" Hargrove

Born to Neil and Sarah Hargrove in Santa Cruz, California

Wanted for the murder of Neil Hargrove

What?

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

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

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

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

Anywhere is just where Steve was going.

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

The Promise of Eternity (Part 3)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

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

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

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

Word Count: 1234

Imagine Series List

Side Notes: 

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

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

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

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

TAV POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[daebakinc]

Pretty Woman Finale

Pretty Woman AU

Pairing: Kihyun x Reader

Word Count: 2.6 K

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

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

~Admin V

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled to that. “Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

Mouth agape again, you could only stare at him.

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

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

“What’s wrong, Kihyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then you’re quite a lucky man.”

 Six Months Later

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

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

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

“How’s our boy doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Getting up you handed it to him.

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

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

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

It was part of his passion for the music.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A love stain, huh?” you chuckled.

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

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

“That’s not funny.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ . . . Yeah?”

“Then maybe you can give it a shot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End

[factorydefaultlu]

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

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

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

ANYWAYS, on to the good stuff.

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

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

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

However, that all changes one night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ooo stunnin! ❤️

[cj-ghostemoji-destielpie]

Here's chapter one! Hope it's not too terrible. Wanted to write it in first person but found it easier to write it like this. Link to my original post is above (I hope, I'm not use to posting things on here yet lmao).

Chapter one below!

The Only Spell We Need Is Time

By: Dragonborn_Eldenlord

Links to read elsewhere:

Here's the chapter....

Chapter One: Hufflepuff:

Ophiuchus meets Snape for the first time during the first day of school for Hogwarts when the first years are all doing the hat ceremony going to their house's tables and meeting the older students. Bledsoe and Snape don't exchange words, just Snape raising a brow curiously at Bledsoe when he takes a seat on the other side of McGonagall at the teacher's table.

Snape had known that Dumbledore had hired a new teacher but he wasn't expecting someone so young and naive looking.

The first time they actually talk is a few days later when Snape stops by Bledsoe's classroom (a beautiful building with large arched windows and a glass ceiling, the building attached to a large greenhouse via a circular door in the back of the classroom beside Bledsoe's large black desk) to collect some herbs from the greenhouse for his Potion's Class; some students had managed to plow through his supplies by using far too much in their potions, which of course ruined their potions and made a disastrous mess in the classroom.

Bledsoe greets Snape with a kind shy smile, typical of a Hufflepuff Snape thinks to himself, and allows him to enter the greenhouse without much discussion before he returns to grading papers. Snape notices books on the small bookcase behind Bledsoe's desk before he enters the greenhouse.

Books about things he wouldn't typically associate with Hufflepuff's. Darkness in the Herbs, Poisonous Plants, Loki's Guide to Mischief and Magic, and Forbidden Knowledge of the Herbalist. All the books look well-read and worn, with sticky notes between multiple pages. Perhaps not all Hufflepuffs are the same, he thinks....

Snape is reminded not to judge people for their houses by the second week of school...

It was Snape's free period of the day and a student forgot to go collect some herbs that were low in the class from the greenhouse so he figured he'd go ahead and go to the greenhouse, knowing Bledsoe only had a handful of first-years so there wouldn't be a bunch of people to deal with or the possibility of awkward forced conversation with Bledsoe. He's seen the young man chatting with Hagrid and Minerva plenty of times and he's somehow managed to avoid speaking with the man more than necessary; socializing isn't Snape's strong suit.

A few students, two Pureblood first years (Ravenclaw and Slytherin), had found out that Bledsoe was a Muggle-born and decided to kill his favorite plants (bachelor buttons, a common muggle wild plant from his home state) he had grown outside of the small building/greenhouse. They left the words MuggleScum burned into the ground in front of the doors to the building.

They expected him to cry. To be sad and weak. To possibly cancel class to grieve over his stupid flowers. Instead, they watched in surprise and fear as Professor Bledsoe seemed to stand taller and a hard expression filled his face as he turned his gaze on his previously snickering (a few students hadn't been snickering and instead had been looking at the destruction with pity or empathy) students.

His gaze filtered over the students, not even acknowledging Snape approaching and taking in the destruction, and he pulled his wand from the holster on his right thigh before seeming to draw a symbol in the air over the words burned in the ground, not even looking away from the students.

A few moments later, the plants quickly regrew and he had a small smirk tug at his lips as he spoke in an eerily calm manner to the students.

"If no one confesses to this destruction, then everyone in this class will have detention every day after classes for the next three months with me. And I can guarantee it won't be a fun hour like I try to make my classes.

No. The first punishment will be working in the yard outside of the greenhouse and planting all of the trees and various plants that will be shipped here soon.

After that, you'll be pulling weeds in the gardens and the greenhouse.

Once there are no more weeds, you'll be scrubbing the floors of the castle. And I'm sure that will last the rest of the three months."

After a few moments of heavy silence, he smiles coldly, "So, what's it going to be? Detention for everyone or a simple confession?" He says, adding flippantly, "Of course, I do know who actually did this and they will be sent to Dumbledore's office regardless, but the extent of the punishments and what I tell the Headmaster will fluctuate depending on if you both confess."

No one says anything for a few moments so Bledsoe shrugs, "I guess you'll all be having detention for the next three months then."

"And if I may add," Snape says, gaining Bledsoe's attention, at Bledsoe's nod and shy smile, Snape continues, "After the three months of detention with Professor Bledsoe, you'll all be having detention with me for the following month. I'm sure I can find use of your time. Cleaning cauldrons, scrubbing the potion room floors, etcetera," he says calmly in his typical flat and monotone voice, the Snape-Disappointed-Single-Raised-Brow-Glance™ over the students causing many to pale.

"Jonah and I did it, Professor..." a Ravenclaw Pureblood steps forward towards Bledsoe, looking a mix of apologetic and fearful.

"Coward, Juliette," the Slytherin Pureblood hisses at her.

Bledsoe has a small smile tugging at his lip, "You both will go to the Headmaster's Office immediately. And you'll both have detention with me for the following three weeks every day except Mondays. And ten points from Ravenclaw and twenty from Slytherin."

After the two students make their way towards the castle, Bledsoe gestures for the rest of the students to enter the class and smiles kindly at Snape.

"Thank you," he says simply but sincerely.

Snape feels the tips of his ears redden but manages to keep his stoic and disinterested expression.

"No trouble at all, Bledsoe," he says calmly, "I came by to pick up the jars of Screaming Dragon Lilies that one of my students was supposed to pick up this morning."

Bledsoe nods, accepting Snape's direct manner of avoiding small talk, and enters the class. He makes his way past the students' desks and towards his desk. Snape follows and stands a few feet away, nearer to the door of the greenhouse than to Bledsoe.

Bledsoe waves his wand over three large jars on his desk before lifting the crate of jars and handing them to Snape.

Snape quirks a brow at Bledsoe, silently questioning why he used his wand before he had picked up the crate.

"I simply removed the warding to prevent anyone from touching the crate or its contents. I didn't want to be covered in large purple and pink polka dots," he explains with a small chuckle, earning a faint smile from Snape.

~~~

Bledsoe had noticed during his first three weeks at Hogwarts that Snape was almost never in the dining hall during meals unless there were important announcements to be made that involved himself; wednesday of the second week, Dumbledore announced that Professor Snape would be teaching dueling to the sixth and seventh year students that were interested one saturday evenings.

And so, Bledsoe decided that since he too did not enjoy or find much necessity for being present during meals at the castle, perhaps he should invite Snape to join him for some tea and cookies he'd made. To stave the boredom. And perhaps the loneliness as well.

It was a typical boring Tuesday afternoon, as a Hufflepuff pranced into a Slytherin's lair, not knocking at all as he went through the open doorway, startling the grumpy and reclusive man so much so that he nearly toppled a stack of precariously placed old tomes.

"What the bloody- oh, Bledsoe," Snape sighed and appeared to be fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the younger man, "To what do I owe the... pleasure, of your sudden entrance to my space?"

Bledsoe smiled, seeming shy but despite the urge to retreat he simply smiled stood up straighter, and feigned confidence, "I've made a couple batches of cookies and thought I'd ask if you'd be interested in joining me in the sugary indulgence. I also have some chamomile tea I could fix up as well."

Snape raised a brow, looking surprised but also curious, "For what reason would you want my company? Surely Minerva or Hagrid would indulge your request."

Bledsoe seemed to deflate slightly at Snape's words, "Well," he says, forcing a small smirk, "I thought perhaps some sugary cookies would sweeten your sour soul, Snape. But perhaps it's far too late," he says with a casual shrug.

Snape actually snorted at the remark, causing Bledsoe to grin widely at the accomplishment of making Snape snort. Snape even gifted him with a very small smile of his own.

"Perhaps it is, Bledsoe," he says softly before shrugging slightly, "But I suppose we could at least try, correct?" he says coyly as he stands from his desk and lays his quil down upon the wood.

Bledsoe grins up at Snape, "We must certainly shall. And," he says with a shrug as they leave the room, "if it seems to fail, we could always try again every Tuesday."

Snape raises a brow but a slight smirk tugs on his lips when he notices Bledsoe's slight blush, "Perhaps, Bledsoe."

"Call me Ophiuchus," he says with a kind smile, "I honestly don't like my last name at all but I haven't figured up a suitable replacement as of yet."

Snape nods, "Very well then...Ophiuchus," he says lowly, and Bledsoe swears the hairs on the back of his neck just stood on end. But not from fear; nay, it was arousal. From simply hearing the older man say his name in that low grumbly voice, "But you must call me Severus in return."

"Deal," Bledsoe says with a cheeky grin as he playfully bumps shoulders with Snape, "But I think I'll indulge in a few nicknames for you as well, Severus. How do you feel about Sev? Or Sevy?" he asks with a silly smile.

Snape rolls his eyes, though it's a fond expression rather than his typical annoyed eye roll, "I suppose I couldn't really stop you since you seem quite stubborn. Unless I used a Silencio on you, but that would grow quite tiring."

Bledsoe chuckled, "Yep, you're stuck with my annoying friendliness and goofiness, Sevy. Welcome to friendship."

Snape had a thoughtful expression on his face, "Friends..." he mumbled softly to himself, Bledsoe didn't hear him. Snape hasn't had a friend since... since Lily.