#but their breathing during this scene killed me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwas-princess · 1 year

Text

suna rintaro • christmas eve princess

“c’mon, baby. don’t be like that.”

you huffed back at your boyfriend, your arms crossed over your chest as you childishly pouted. you walked ahead of him, continuing your journey to the passenger seat of his luxury car.

“hey, sweetheart, stop.” he chuckled as you continued to ignore him.

the silent treatment that you played didn’t let up as you neared his car in the store’s packed parking lot, much to his dismay. he stayed behind you, his large hands filled with your family’s christmas gifts you both had just purchased last minute.

it started out small, this argument did.

suna, ever the lazy man he is, pushed aside gift buying for weeks as your schedule filled once finals season approached, resulting in your shopping to begin the night before christmas. to say that you were irritated would be an understatement when you found that there were no gifts to wrap.

you wanted to kill rintaro, and even contemplated makibg sleep on the couch for a week— but it was christmas eve and even though he was annoying, you still wanted nothing more than to be near him during this holiday season.

angry or not.

as you approached your passenger door, you turned around briefly to take one look at him.

his hair was collecting snowflakes, the jet black locks speckled with white fuzz beautifully. his strong arms were carrying two heavy bags and one large electronic box for your younger sibling, and although he looked as if the items were nothing compared to him, you could tell that he was struggling slightly to carry them all in this cold, and his long fingers were most likely numb from the cold.

“wait, just a second. you know that you’re not allowed to open your own door; that’s my job.” suna corrected as your glove clad hand reached the car door handle.

you rolled your eyes, but felt your heart warm a few temperatures at his manners.

“let me just set these in the trunk and i’ll get you in that nice and toasty car, ‘kay? don’t want my princess getting too cold.” he explained as he popen the trunk, and carefully set the gifts in there.

you waited patiently, frustrated at him, but nevertheless ignored him still.

he tucked his frozen hands in his pockets breifly as he walked around the your side of the car, sending a flirty wink your way as he watched your eyes follow his moves briefly before looking off in the distance.

“i saw that, pretty girl.” he chuckled under his breath as he reached you.

the close proximity of him suddenly, caused a warm feeling to envelop your cold body. his scent filled your lungs as you breathed in the harsh air, your eyes nearly rolling back at the smell.

he was intoxicating.

his bare hand covered yours to gain your attention, wanting nothing more than to see your eyes on him once more— those pretty eyes that he adored.

when you didn’t budge, he let out an airy laugh at your behavior,

“sweetie, c’mon. look at me…” his voice was nearly teasing, catlike in every way as he spoke.

“what?” you harshly huffed out.

“ah, there she is. there’s your pretty voice that i missed so much.” he gently cooed at you. you found it condescending.

“what do you want, rintaro? i’m cold.” you were icy cold when you asked him, your voice cruel.

he ignored your attitude, tucking a loose strand behind your ear before caging you against the car door.

“rintaro! what is wrong with you? i’m freezing and i have to go home and wrap presents because you,” you shoved your finger against his coat covered chest. “didn’t tell me that we didn’t have any until last minute! now, i’m going to be exhausted all fucking day tomorrow because i’ll go to bed late”.

he smirked as you shouted quietly at him, careful not to make a scene.

he didn’t want to invalidate you in anyway, because he knew very well that he fucked up this year, but something about how adorable you looked in your puffy coat he bought you had his heart bursting. you looked so damn cute, exclaiming about your worries while you dressed warmly. your cheeks were flushed from the harsh cold, your nose beginning to run as well.

you had his whole heart and you didn’t even realize it.

you noticed the smug look on his face, immediately resulting in a punch to his shoulder.

he hissed in pain lowly, his broad body flinching back slightly before the hand covering yours nursed the now sore muscle.

“ouch, baby. that was awfully mean of you, don’t you think?”

you huffed in annoyance before turning around and opening the door yourself. but, just as you opened it, your boyfriend was quick to shut it with his knee.

“hey! what is your-“

he face leaned closer to yours, his cold nose touching your own freezing one. his dark eyes bored into yours and his lips brushed against yours gently.

“you know only i open this door for you, no one else. not even you.” he whispered darkly, his voice raspy.

you nodded slowly, allowing him to reach next to you and open the door back open for you, his eyes never leaving yours. he backed up enough for the door to fully open.

“go in.”

you obeyed reluctantly. you slid into the luxurious car, the soft heated cushions welcoming you happily with comforting warmth. you let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling, before turning your attention back to your doting boyfriend. he leaned in towards you slowly, your breath hitched as his torso entered the warm car. his face became nothing but a few inches away from yours, giving you the impression that he was going to give you a forgiving kiss. but instead, he reached a few inches behind him, and pulled the seatbelt around your lap before buckling it.

“gotta keep my little princess safe, don’t i? these roads are icy, brat.”

you nodded along, at loss for words.

“suna?” you called out after a few moments of thought as he was exiting the vehicle.

he stopped momentarily, crouching over slightly to hear and look at you as you spoke.

“kiss me.” you whispered.

he smiled wide, and if his cheeks weren’t frostkissed you could’ve seen the blush that creeped upon him at your words.

“of course.”

#suna 🌷#suna rintaro x reader fluff #suna rintaro #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarō #haikyuu fluff #suna fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuu x reader fluf

10K notes · View notes

kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings · 1 year

Note

I just had the Idea, like Imagine, the S/o from Muzan, Koku, Douma and Akaza (seperate) finds a spider and is REALLY Scared of it. How would they react?

The mental image of the S/O shrieking in terror and one of these men just absolutely pegging it all the way from one side of the house to the other just to find out its a spider that scared the S/O amuses me greatly (≧▽≦)

Also I have arachnophobia and honestly spiders get my skin crawling in terror... they just give me the ick

Honestly thanks for sliding this into my askbox! It was fun to imagine and write what these men would think and do during such a scenario!

Muzan Kibutsuji, Kokushibo, Douma/Doma + Akaza reacting to their S/O being scared of a spider - Headcanons:

Muzan Kibutsuji:

He was just doing an experiment, just messing around with chemicals to get a reaction

When he hear's you scream

Fucking speed demon o'hoy as he speeds across the house to find you, nails hardening and lengthen and tentacles wanting to burst out from his skin to get rid of what's harmed you

And when he reaches where you are, hands cracking the foundations of the door with a snarl on his lips until his eyes land on you

Muzan stands there - his fear quells and is instead replaced with a thankful neutrality - breathing slowly reverting back to normal as he takes in your shaken form standing on one of the tables in the home's library

With a quirk of his brow his gaze drifts to where your shaking finger points and lands on the calm + poised form of a spider

Muzan stares at it

The spider stares back

Before it's promptly squished under a book

Your carried out of the room like a bride

"For scaring me you get to sit in my lab" Muzan says, going back to mixing chemicals "And if your good, it'll be me that makes you scream in ecstasy later"

Muzan knows spider's scare you so usually just kills them before you see one - although the odd few go get to live

Kokushibo:

Kokushibo was meditating - his usual activity after a long day

It's silent, the house in a state of stillness and the world outside holding it's breathe as Kokushibo breathes in...then out..

And its shattered by your scream of fear

His body moves quicker than his mind

Hand on his katana as he rushes to where you are and as see's you cowering in the hallway, eyes flicking to and fro to see where your fear is placed to see the 8-legged fiend

"It's a spider...." He states plainly, eyes blinking as his stance relaxes "......again?"

"Can you please make it go away!" You whisper-shout, eyes peaking through your fingers at him "It's really scary"

Kokushibo simply sighs

Moving silently to catch the spider with a drinking cup and a piece of parchment from the ceiling and releasing it outside

He picks you up and dusts you off with a small smile

"Next time just shout my name, I'll handle the spiders"

Douma/Doma:

Douma/Doma had just finished a sermon

Narrowly escaping his followers clutches from having to give more false kindness and advice that he probably didn't mean

Until he hears you scream

Fear flushes his insides cold and worry makes his chest ache as he runs to your shared quarters

First, he blinks - taking in the scene of your shaking form and the rather harmless spider on the wall

Then his brain starts working at a mile a minute before everything clicks into place

You (S/O) + Spider + Scream from you = Fear = New form of entertainment

Douma/Doma smirks - something filled with malice and a polite mock sympathy - before making his way across the room to soothe you

Before promptly catching the spider and chasing you with it...

Yes, this is funny for him and no, he won't stop until he's tired

After having his fun - for what felt like a millennia - Douma/Doma releases the spider outside

And with a chuckle, kisses your forehead and leaves you

Douma/Doma just doesn't understand why you're scared of spiders until you sit down with him before bed and tell him off for earlier

After that he orders his followers to either kill spiders on sight or move them into the garden

Akaza:

He was training in the garden when he heard you scream out in terror

Making record time to get to you by simply leaping from the garden through the bedroom's open window

Eyes moving wildly trying to find the source of your terror - his heart aching when seeing your eyes shimmering with tears and a scared wobble to your lip

Until landing on the black mass on the floor scuttling about... "a....a spider?" He says inquisitively, his head tilting in confusion

When he realizes that it was the spider that made you scream, Akaza kinda just stares at it for a little while before joining you on the bed to get away from it and soothe you

Then 5 minutes roll into 10 minutes and your both sat there, chilling on the bed in a hug and waiting for the spider to leave

"It's gone now...."

Accidentally stands on the spider

Yes, he screams

No, the spider doesn't make it

But you do get to laugh

Akaza now doesn't go near spiders....

4K notes · View notes

lazycats-stuff · 2 months

Note

Please write Damian x friend reader who's really shy, and they have to make a school project together, and they do so at the manor, but because the reader is shy he doesn't want to meet the family. The family (to annoy damian) want to meet this friends, but Damian actually likes the reader and tries to protect him from his brother's

Hell yes. Oh I love this. The fam would do this. Alfred would be stopping them. I don't know why, but this gif is really adorable to me.

Summary: Damian has a crush and the boys decide to annoy them

Warnings: fluff, angst?, Damian comes out to Bruce and Alfred, shy reader... Mostly fluff though.

Damian Wayne, the son of Batman has a crush on his classmate. Yes, you read it correctly. Damian has a crush on (Y/N) (L/N), a shy boy in his class. Damian thought he was adorable and his shyness made him even more cute to Damian, but Damian knew for a fact that he didn't have a chance with (Y/N).

Anyone who dates a Wayne, will be in the spotlight. And being in high school doesn't make it any better. The pressures and the fact that the girls and some guys were throwing themselves at him and for that, he only got his reputation as cold, not interested in anyone.

That made it much more difficult to even think about approaching (Y/N).

And the fact he was suffering alone made it painful. He didn't tell his family, knowing that they would push him to talk to him, but they wouldn't understand the situation that Damian is in. For Damian, (Y/N) is something that is both within his reach and yet so far, far away.

Damian has come to terms with the fact that he will never be able to be with (Y/N). If only he knew about (Y/N)'s feelings...

But fate has some other plans. During a biology class, the teacher announced that he will pair the kids to make a project. Damian dreaded it because there are two bad outcomes that could come out of it.

One is that he ends up with a person who wouldn't do anything and would just use it for bragging rights and would annoy him to no end. It would be awful and Damian would have to control himself to not kill someone and not to cause a scene.

And the second one is the fact that there is a chance that he will be paired up with (Y/N). That wasn't bad per say, not at all, not by any means. But... The mere fact that he would be paired with his crush wouldn't be easy, not even for Damian. He may have a lot self control, but with (Y/N)...

Damian remained calm when he was paired with (Y/N). Only externally. Internally? He was screaming. How does he even approach him? How in the hell? Okay... Try to be nice...

Damian rubbed his lips, trying to remain calm and devise a plan. Approach him when everyone leaves the classroom. Then tell him and give him phone number so they can contact one another... Okay... That's the first two steps.

Wait... What about his family? Oh no... Well, that's a thing to worry about later.

Damian took a deep breath as he approached (Y/N). (Y/N) blushed already and look at Damian with an uneasy smile. " Hi Damian. "

" Hey (Y/N). Can you give me your number so that I can text you the time and we can contact each other. " Damian said as he took his phone out, allowing (Y/N) to put his phone number in. (Y/N) did just that, ever so nervously.

Damian watched in silence, waiting patiently. After that, (Y/N) quietly mumbled see you later and left. Damian followed him, but in a much slower pace. He walked to his own locker, getting his stuff and leaving the school quickly, going to the car to let Alfred drive him away.

During the drive, Alfred noticed that Damian was bothered by something, but he knew that asking was going to be like pulling teeth. Painful and no one would even bother to do it, but Damian wasn't an average person nor a child.

So all in all, it will be a painful conversation, no matter how they turn it.

" Damian, can we talk? " Bruce asked as he sat down next to him on the couch, Alfred setting down the tea for the three of them.

" About what? " Damian asked as he put a book down on the coffee table. Bruce and Alfred got ready for this. Alfred sat down next to Damian, but not too close, just keeping some space in between the two.

" Something is bothering you and we want to know what's going on. " Bruce has started gently and Damian's internal guard went up quickly. They clearly don't know what, but... How will his father react about hearing that he is gay? Oh God...

" Nothing is bothering me. " Damian lied quickly, but Bruce saw right through it.

" You can always talk to us Damian.. You can always come to me, I will never judge you. " Bruce said softly and Damian had to take a very deep breath to stay calm...

Is he really going to come out now?

" It's... " Damian started, clearly out of his comfort zone. " I have a crush... "

Bruce and Alfred smiled. Damian is in love. " And what's her name? " Alfred asked.

And here it is.

" It's his. It's (Y/N). " Damian said quietly, getting ready for rejection.

There was silence for a couple of moments before Bruce hugged Damian tightly. Damian was shocked at that, more so when Alfred hugged him too, but he didn't question it by any means. He hugged Bruce back tightly.

" Please don't tell me that you think we were going to reject you master Damian. " Alfred said from behind, still hugging his grandson.

" Oh Damian... " Bruce said quietly, making sure to squeeze Damian tightly. " I would never judge you for being gay. You are my son and I won't love you any less. " Bruce says softly, rocking his son a bit to calm him down.

Damian nodded, hiding his face, not wanting these tears to fall down. He didn't want them to be seen.

And the time has finally come. (Y/N) has arrived into the manor and Bruce made sure to tell his other sons to stay clear and away from the library today. He said a few warnings and the other three seemed to listen.

Again, seemed.

The project was going well. Damian has been calmer and (Y/N) has been quiet, but was working hard to make it the best project ever. Damian was impressed by that and more impressed that his brother's weren't bothering him or (Y/N). But there was a bad feeling in the back of Damian's mind.

Something was going to happen.

And Damian isn't liking this at all.

And he was right. After an hour, Jason popped his head in. Damian whipped his head around so quickly that (Y/N) thought he got whiplash. (Y/N) blushed slightly at the sight of Jason who had a smirk on his face.

Damian got up quickly. No. This is not going to happen.

" Out Todd. " Damian said as he walked up to him and started pushing him out.

" Oh come on, I just want to meet you frie-" Jason was cut off with the door slamming in his face. He smirked at the sight of the barely controlled anger from Damian.

Oh he loves to push those buttons.

Damian took a deep breath and turned to (Y/N) with a small smile. " My apologies (Y/N), Todd is annoying and he loves to push my buttons. " Damian said as he sat back down and (Y/N) nodded with a small smile.

" It's okay, siblings are annoying. " (Y/N) said quietly.

" Do you have one? " Damian asked as he moved a notebook out of the way.

" A single child, I'm afraid. " (Y/N) said and Damian nodded.

And everything was fine. Until one hour later.

Now Tim popped his head in and Damian was going to kill him.

" Out Drake. " Damian said as he quickly stood up and started pushing him out, still calm, trying to not scare (Y/N), who just watched in silence and wonder.

" Oh Damian, " Tim started, but Damian just threw him out and slammed the door. (Y/N) raised his brow, curious, but to hesitant to ask.

" Again, my apologies, they are just annoying. " Damian said yet again and sat back down, getting focused to continue working on the project.

The silence was nice and comfortable and the library was just peaceful.

That was until the doors opened for the 3rd time and Damian stood up quickly, pushing out Dick into the hallway, closing the door.

" What the hell is wrong with you three?! " Damian whispered yelled and Dick sheepishly smiled.

" I just wanted to check on you two, to see if you need any help. " Dick said quietly.

" Sure. Make sure that these two don't come by again. " Damian said coldly and went back inside, clearly annoyed, trying to calm himself. But the moment he set his eyes on (Y/N), he was calmer and less annoyed.

" Sorry, another brother is annoying today. " Damian said, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm down.

" Are they always like this? " (Y/N) asked softly and Damian nodded.

" I'm afraid so. " Damian said, glaring at the door for a second before he focused back onto the project.

After some times, they have actually managed to finish it. Damian was happy, but then this means that hanging out with (Y/N) is over. After this, they probably won't ever talk.

But Damian just couldn't let it go. He had to confess.

He had to.

But is he brave enough? Maybe.

" (Y/N)? Before you go, I need to tell you something. " Damian said once they were outside.

(Y/N) nodded and waited for Damian to speak.

" I... I like you. A lot... And... You are allow to say no, but do you want to go out with me? " Damian asked softly.

(Y/N) was outright speechless. Damian felt the same way? This had to be a dream...

" I would love to. " (Y/N) said, blushing like mad and rubbing the back of his neck.

" I'll text you the plans later. We can go tomorrow. " Damian said and Alfred got the car ready to drive (Y/N) back to his home. After (Y/N) and Alfred left, Damian slowly turned to his brothers who were eaves dropping.

" You 3 have 5 seconds to run before I get you. " Damian said coldly and the three quickly ran. Damian chased after Jason.

Bruce simply sipped his coffee. It's not worth his nerves. Or annoyance. Or even the agitation.

Bruce sigh. Just let it be.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

862 notes · View notes

daycourtofficial · 2 months

Text

Save your tears

Summary: Eris finds his pregnant mate sobbing because of something Lucien did

Author’s note: this is short and fun and silly and goofy, inspired by this fic by @artethyst

Lucien Vanserra considered himself to be a male who was kind and who picked up on the emotional state of those around him.

Which is why he has no idea how you began crying or what to do about it.

Ever since you had written to him a few months ago asking if he could stay in Autumn more frequently during your pregnancy, he had obliged, stopping by to see you at least once a week.

Tears were streaming down your face, and he couldn’t make out a single coherent word from you due to your blubbering. He came to sit next to you, but you put your hands on your belly, scooting further away from him.

Eris strode into the room, taking in the scene before him. You trying to stay as far away from his brother as possible, and his brother trying to get closer to you to console you.

“Lucien, what could you have possibly done to reduce my mate to a sobbing mess?”

Lucien throws his hands around, gesturing wildly, “What I did? Perhaps she’s woken from whatever spell she was under and realized who she was mated to.”

Eris gives his brother a look as he comes to you, grabbing your face gently so you look into his eyes. He takes deep slow breaths, wanting you to do the same. After a moment of deep breathing, your sobs have quieted and he asks, in an incredibly delicate tone, “What’s wrong, fawn?”

“Lucien killed a spider,” you sob out.

Lucien’s eyes widen, “that’s why you’re upset? You asked me to kill it! You were upset over it being here!”

“Yes, and now the spider’s dead and she probably had a whole spider family that is going to starve because you’re a spider murderer,” you reply, having to stop every few words to breathe. “And,” you stress, “her corpse is over there, discarded like she meant nothing.”

Eris kept his lips pressed tightly to keep from laughing at the sheer absurdity of his pregnant mate and his brother as they continued debating the morality of Lucien killing the spider. He watches his brother go to pick up the spider’s body, unlatching a window, and tossing it out before closing the window again, before turning to you, his face asking are you happy now?

You squeak at his callousness and disregard for it, asking, “is that what you shall do with me when I perish?”

Lucien rolls his eyes, “gods I don’t think I’ll be around to witness your death because all of the spiders across the land will kill me in vengeance for their fallen queen.”

Eris sits next to you, pulling you in towards his body, sending waves of love and joy through the bond to soothe you. You curl into him, grasping his shirt to cling onto.

“How could Lucien do such a thing…”

Lucien huffs before stalking off, muttering to himself about how he spends his free time in Autumn for you just to be disrespected for doing what you wanted him to.

You cry in his arms for a while, your sobs turning into hiccups. Eris places a hand on your bump, smoothing his thumb over it, applying a light heat so your babe knows who’s there.

“I think I scared Lucien away,” you finally say, voice shaky.

“Lucien is not so easily shaken. I’ve been trying for centuries to make him hate me, but my attempts are always unsuccessful.”

You smile, your sniffles the only sound for a few moments.

“If you really want Lucien to hate you, have him convicted for the murder of a spider.”

Eris’s eyes crinkle in amusement, “he would have a lot to say about that, I’m sure.”

“There aren’t many topics that he doesn’t have a lot to say on,” you smirk.

Eris stands up, his vest before extending a hand to you. You accept it, and he helps pull you up.

“I think it’d be funny if we told him we’re naming the babe Lulu,” you say, curling underneath Eris’s arm.

“I think he’d be more crushed to find out we aren’t.”

“That’s what’s funny about it.”

“Wicked, wicked female you are,” he croons, leading the two of you through the hall of the Forest House.

#eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader #acotar fanfiction

709 notes · View notes

starlight-library · 3 months

Text

Take a break | LS2

pairing: logan sargent x reader

summary: its launch day for williams and your boyfriend so overwhelmed and tired you decide to give him a quick pick me up

warnings: smut: oral (f & m receiving), sorta sub!logan & dom!reader, no protection (wrap your willy sillies!), praise kink, breath play (didn't intend for that one), breeding kink, basically porn with a semi plot??

a/n: uh, haven't written smut in a long time let alone f/m smut so PLEASE be gentle with me here! also i'll admit, writing scene with eating out is NOT my strong suit but i'm trying to get better! again, no proofreading, we die like men!

wc: 2.8K

Launch days were something you weren’t particularly familiar with for a multitude of reasons. The first reason was you hadn’t been a long time fan of F1 as you had recently gotten into the sport a little into the 2023 season more as something to have on in the background. The second reason is because you were so new to this world of motorsports, you had no idea what the pre-season would entail. The third reason is because the only reason you got into the world of F1 was because of your boyfriend, Logan Sargent.

You happened to be on a trip with some friends in Miami even after hearing many horror stories about how Miami usually ruins friendships. That was not you and your friends though. Instead you and your friends had made a very important note to have dedicated alone time so you all didn’t end up kill each other and it was proving to be a great key to this vacation. During your shopping, you had bumped into someone and turned around to apologize the same time Logan did. The two of you laughed and went your separate ways. You had told your friends about the encounter and how you regretted not continuing the conversation but you were too embarrassed. They reassured you that they would find this mysterious blonde man for you.

None of you had to try very hard as you and your friends decided to go to a club Sunday night after the Grand Prix and it just happened to be the same one a lot of the drivers ended up going to. You ran into Logan again, literally, and this time you actually kept the conversation going. One thing lead to another (as well as finding out he was an F1 driver and causing you to go down this rabbit hole to understand his work more) and by summer break you had been on four dates before he officially asked you to be his partner. By winter break, you were comfortable enough for him to announce the relationship and even with the mixed reviews from fans neither of you let it affect your relationship. If anything, it made your relationships stronger. It helped that Alex and Lily were super supportive and helpful the moment you two went public.

Lily especially. She had been nothing but kind and supportive the moment you two went public. She went on about how sweet Logan is and how she was ecstatic for him to finally have met someone who wanted him for him and not because he was a famous world driver. She was also over the moon to have a WAG on the team (yes she even took the time to explain what was a WAG was to you) and that she finally had someone to sit with during races and chat with during events like this.

Which is how you found yourself sorta following Lily around like a lost puppy to really grasp the rope of things before the two of you found yourself huddled together as the launch happened. It was fun. There was a kid named William outside with a sign that said ‘My name is William too!’ They actually brought him in for the launch and even had him sit in the car. You smiled seeing the kid beam at the two of them and Logan happily chatting with him when he wasn’t pulled away to be in front of the camera.

After the launch, Alex and Logan were heading down to Central Park to continue filming so you and Lily decided to have a little afternoon together. You two went shopping, had lunch, and just explored as the two of you chatted about anything and everything. You guys were stopped a bit for pictures, which was expected with Lily, but you? That surprised you but also warmed your heart and you happily took the photos. Then you two arrived at the hotel and parted ways before the meet and greet where you’d probably be off to the side with her once again just watching and interacting with fans.

You were mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV when you heard a faint whirling noise before the door was opened. Looking over you saw your boyfriend and a smile tugged to your lips. Shifting, you sit next on the edge of the bed as Logan comes padding over. The smile turns into a small frown seeing the state of him. “You okay?” You ask. He grunts in response as he stands between your legs and you rub his arms soothingly.

“Come sit,” you gently pull Logan down next to you. Immediately, the American is pulling you into his lap and burying his face into your neck. Running your fingers through his hair, you kiss his temple gentle as he grumbles about how long days like this were and how tiring they were and he wanted nothing more than to stay here. You bit your lip gentle wanting to reassure him that it would be over soon but knew he had so much more socializing to do and he was near his wits end.

Then, an idea hit you.

“Tell me more,” you comment as you wiggle out of his lap and kneel behind him to give him a massage. You feel him relax under your touch and you smile gently as you continue. It’s a nice gesture but it’s mainly a distraction. When he’s relaxed enough you pull away as he continues to ramble as you slide off the bed and move to stand between his legs. Gently pushing him on the bed Logan’s let out a small huff of a laugh as he tosses an arm over his eyes. Perfect. Stripping out of your pants and panties, you crawl onto the bed and swat his arm away. The second his arm is to his side you’re swinging a leg over, trapping his head between his thighs and sitting down.

It takes a millisecond for Logan to realize what’s going on before you groan feeling his tongue on your clit. Your hands fly to his hair for purchase as he happily runs his tongue over your clit. Long slow strokes before short kitten licks. It sends a shiver of pleasure up your body as you buck your hips forward. His hands quickly find your thighs gripping tightly as he traps you. You tilt your head back groaning loudly as you roll your hips as you two find your rhythm quickly since Logan loves being between your thighs.

You let praises fall from your lips between the moans and gasps falling from your face. It should be illegal with how good Logan is from your clit to your cunt as he opens you up with his tongue. Even though you guys haven’t been together for long he had made it his mission to learn your body inside and out. How you liked him switching between slow licks and fast licks. How your eyes rolled when he teased your clit with circles before sucking. How your hips bucked when he slipped his tongue in and slowly fucked you open. How if he tilted his head back just enough he could get deeper brushing against your g-spot, causing you to throw your head back and let out the most delicious sounds. How if he switched the routine up it drove you mad and close to your orgasm which he was very much intending to do but that’s not on your agenda.

Your chest was heaving as you felt the familiar coil starting to form in your abdomen. You force yourself to let go of his hair to wedge your fingers under his and pries his hands off your thighs before you lift yourself up. Looking down, you wish you could take a picture but a mental one will do. Logan’s hair was wild against the sheets, eyes wide and pupils blown. His face was flushed a beautiful shade of pink and his mouth and chin was shiny with your juices. His fingers twitched in your hands as he stared up at you neither one daring to move as he whines. He became such a beautiful mess so quickly for you.

“Yes?”

“I need—” he gulps slightly.

“You need what?” You tease.

His mouth opens and then closes as he tries to find the words. You know exactly what he wants and you’re tempted to give it to him, “stay,” you command as your grip on his hands loosens so you can easily move off of him and slink off the bed and onto the floor.

“Sit up,” you say while stroking the inside of his thigh and he does looking down at you. Looking up at him, you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and he groans tipping his head back slightly. You swirl your tongue around the tip before flattening your tongue along the underside of his cock. Hallowing your cheeks, you start to bob your head. You watch his hands start to go to your hair but stop knowing better than to touch without permission so he grabs the sheets as if it’s a life line. You place your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you continue prepping yourself. He’s babbling above you begging for more. He’s not specific with what he wants but that’s typical for him.

When you’re relaxed you happily take him down your throat, nose against his navel, and Logan throws his head back letting out a moan. Internally, you smirk at how loud he was. Usually he tried to be reserved and letting himself be focused on your pleasure but today was about him. You pull off to the tip before going straight back down and he tenses to keep himself still knuckles white from how hard he was holding onto the sheets. You continue for a bit longer before you pull off with a pop before standing.

“Lay down,” you say gesturing to the pillows and Logan scrambles laying on his back as his head hits the pillow. You wince for him since he was so close to hitting the headboard but it was a miracle he didn’t. That would’ve been one way to kill the mood and end the day for sure. Getting onto the bed, you straddle your boyfriend who’s breathing heavily from anticipation. Smirking at the mess you’ve already made of him, you grab the base of his cock and line yourself up before sliding down.

In unison you both groan as you put your hands on his chest for leverage. Once you’re bottomed out you take a moment to adjust. You start to move your hips in small circles sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as Logan turns his head to the side, groaning again.

“Babe I—”

“Shhh, I know. It’s okay,” you murmur as you run your hands over his chest, “I got you. Just lay there and let me hear all your pretty noises. Can you do that for me?”

Logan whines in response again.

“Logan.”

“Yes,” he breaths out, “Yes I—I can do that.”

“Good boy.”

Raising your hips you sink back down and tilt your head back. It’s been a while since you two have actually had time to have sex and it felt like the first time all over again. Just with how well he filled you up and it felt like a punch to the gut (pun intended…maybe). You start out with this slow rhythm hearing how Logan groaned and moaned under you whining and asking for more.

You work yourself on his cock picking up the pace as you go. You lean back, gasping at the new angle as your hands find purchase on his thighs. “Oh fuck—” you manage out between the moans. “Yes, fuck yes baby so good.” You ramble on as his head tosses to the side, hands gripping the pillows, the sheets, anything that isn’t you.

“I—fuck babe—please—” Logan gasps.

“Please what?”

“Let me touch you. Fuck. Babe. Please. Please please please,” he begs, “need to touch you. Please, shit, babe you look so good riding me, please,” He begs, “been so good for you.”

“Such a good boy,” you purr out, “okay.”

His hands fly to your hips. His eyes trained on you. How your lips are parted. The slight sweat starting to form on your forehead as your hair sticks to it. How your eyes are fluttering close.

“Let me move. Please baby,” he begs, “you’ve done so much work,” he’s rambling, “wanna make you feel good. Please let me make you feel good. God fuck babe I wanna make you feel good.”

You’re lost in your own little world as Logan rambles on. You’re so close of finding that spot and you shift to lean forward, hands back on his chest. One hand fumbles but it covers Logan’s mouth as you continue, slamming your hips down on him. Your eyes go wide and you see stars when you find it, throwing your head back as you continue. “Fuck—oh right there. Shit—” you moan out as you fall into an endless cycle of moans, groans, and cursing. You can feel Logan’s lips against your hand still moving but between your own noises and the absolutely filthy obscene noises you two were making it was drowned out.

Your body is on fire. Your legs are straining and you’re getting tired but you continue. You feel the coil forming once again and your hand drops to Logan’s throat as you wrap your hand around, squeezing slightly. He lets out a strangled gasp mostly out of shock before he moans. “You—fuck—” you breath heavily, “yes move.”

Logan did not need to be told twice. Gripping your hips tight enough that will surely leave bruises, not that you really minded, he snapped his hips up when you came down. You screamed - you’re pretty sure you did but you can’t be quiet to sure with the stars you were seeing and everything else drowning out expect Logan’s voice. He’s thanking you over and over, telling you how amazing you are and how you treat him so so well. He matches your pace and you can’t even prepare yourself as your orgasm is ripped out of you.

You grip his throat tighter and he lets out another strangled groan. Your body shakes as you continue riding him babbling about how good he’s fucking you, how pretty he is like this, how only you get to see him like this, and how only you can make him feel this good. He’s trying to speak but it’s hard and you manage to loosen your grip. He gasps for air before the words are slipping past his lips.

“Please. Oh god please let me cum. Please I’m so—I’m so fucking close. Babe. I need—” he chokes on air as tears form, “god please.”

You feel limp. You’ve slowed your own pace down but he continues with the pace. You manage an ‘yes, you can cum’ through moans and whines. It takes three more thrust before Logan’s spilling into you, head thrown back and groaning loudly as his eyes roll in the back of his head slightly. He continues to fuck you through his own orgasm before he finally comes down.

You’re both shaking slightly at this point. You force yourself to pull off of him, feeling his cum ooze out of you as you end up collapsing on top of Logan as the two of you catch your breath. Moving his hands to your hips, he gently massages them as he kisses the top of your head. You let your eyes slip close as your breathing returns to normal smiling to yourself as you listen to his heartbeat. “Better?” You ask finally breaking the comfortable silence.

“Much better. Thank you babe, I really needed that,” he says and plants a soft kiss to your hair.

“Of course. You know all you have to do is ask.”

Logan huffs a laugh out which earns an eye roll out of you. You turn your head so you can look at him and he’s smiling at you, leaning down to kiss your nose as you wiggle it. “I know,” he says, “I’m…working on it.”

“I know, and I’m proud. But with a schedule like this you have to be more keen on making sure you’re okay. Really.”

“I know. I know,” he nods as he speaks, “now come on, we gotta get cleaned up so we can go to dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah,” Logan blinks, “the meet and greet starts at six. So I thought we could grab an early dinner at a little mom and pops diner I found. Come on,” he gently sits up with you still on his chest. You squeak when he’s got his arms under your ass and shifting before you two are standing legs instinctively wrapping around his waist with a grin, “I’m paying this time.”

“You paid last time!” You argue as he laughs taking you both to the bathroom to get clean before dinner.

#starlight library presents;#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent smut #ls2 x reader #ls2 smut #logan sargent x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one smut #starlight library fanfics

641 notes · View notes

littledollll · 3 months

Text

Her favorite dancer

Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader

A/n: I started watching Black swan in the living room tv today and was quickly humbled by the amount of sexual scenes, quickly cut that out.

Warnings: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, sexual undertones, condescending, manipulation, slightly mean Larissa

____________________________________

“Perfect.”

You lived to hear her utter those precious words. Every second of every day revolves around it. Around seeing that proud smile that would reach her eyes, her chin tilted up as she, admired you.

She, the one who should be admired.

The soft, recorded piano music played, surrounding the empty room with its beauty. An unplanned choreography, you were instructed. The music played and you were to follow, let your creativity and desires use your body as a vessel.

Larissa admired the way you moved. The fluidity of your movements. How every muscle tensed and released with each movement. And as you stepped into an arabesque, the dreadful word came out of her mouth. “Hold that.”

You sighed, your position wavering. Larissa tilted her head, stepping behind you.

“You can do better than this. Your leg goes up to your ear, there’s no reason that leg should be so low to the ground.” Her hands found your waist and thigh, fixing your position.

“I want a your leg to be at chest level, minimum. But I know you can do better.”

“Your body was built for this. Your legs are strong, your back is flexible. Use this to your advantage.” She spoke into your ear. “Have you no idea how many girls would kill to have your body?”

“Lean. Feel the weight of your body on your toes, focus the pressure on your hallux. You should know all of this by now. I haven’t been teaching you for months, only for you to still need my corrections.”

“It hurts.” You uttered in a small voice. Larissa chuckled. “Aww it hurts.. are you just a fragile little girl? Is that it? Are you weak?” Her hands tightened around your waist, fingers digging into your skin painfully.

“The stage is no place for weakness. Nor is my studio. If you think you can’t handle it, I encourage you to leave.”

“Beauty hurts. Art hurts. That is no excuse. I say you’re simply being lazy.” You went to speak, defend yourself but she was quick to shush you.

“Silence. You know better than to speak during my class. I don’t need any more words from you.”

There was no softness in her voice. None of the usual smoothness she spoke with. Larissa could be strict when she needed to, truly she often was. But not to you, for some reason.

“I believe I’ve failed you then. Is that what you’re saying? Are you showing me that my teachings have been ineffective to you, girl? Have you managed to learn nothing in all this time, nothing?”

No no no. She couldn’t think that. Not ever. You owe everything to her. Every bit of your talent has been expanded and bettered because of her.

You whimpered, taking a deep breath in and tightening up your position. She nodded approvingly.

“Good.. you wouldn’t dare make me have my very first failure of a student. You won’t tarnish my reputation like that, would you, my beautiful girl?” You shook your head as best as you could without moving too much.

“You should know I expect better from you, little girl.” She sighed.

“Stretch those lovely arms of yours, aligning with the tip of your nose and your ear.”

You shifted as told, of course. But her body against yours wasn’t helping. It was harder to balance with her pressed against your back, making your body subconsciously support itself against her. “Very well done.”

Larissa knows. She’s been teaching for decades, of course she knows that she’s only making you struggle more. Not that she cares. She’s refining you. Making your practice harder only so you can come out on top. That’s what you tell yourself anyways.

“I will not let your talents waste away simply because it ‘hurts’, my dear. The more it hurts, the better you’re doing.” She said as she stepped back, allowing you to find your balance on your own.

You quivered for a moment but didn’t let yourself fall.

“If you fall from that arabesque you will not like the consequences, my beautiful girl.”

You tightened up in a second. You didn’t want to know the consequences. And you surely didn’t want to disappoint her.

You found your center. The raised leg lifting, ankle height going past your shoulder. Your face spotted, unmoving from one of the walls of mirrors.

“Look at that line.. you’re stunning. This, this is why I work on you the most. You have so much potential yet so little dedication. You need me to guide you. One day, you’ll become my prima ballerina. But only if you put your life into this. Into me.”

Yes, you could do that. You could do it for her. You wanted to hear that word again, to hear her smooth voice call you perfect in that proud tone. You wanted her to show you off, be her model student, her star.

“Give me a nice lift, I want to see that knee in line with your head.”

She watched you through the mirror, as you lifted your torso, rib cage tight in its place and slowly lifted your leg as high as you could. “Hold that.”

Part of you wanted to turn around and slap her every time she said those damned words. But you held. Your supporting leg was cramping up already, your calf feeling that painful strain. Your back felt like needles being stabbed all over and then her hands were on you again. One placed at your knee and the other a little too close to your chest.

She supported your torso as she forced the leg up further, further, further until you winced in pain. “That, is your line.”

“Look at that beauty, look at yourself from this mirror, beautiful girl.” You did. It truly was impressive, but you couldn’t reach that without unbearable amounts of pain, and even less without her hands forcing it. You couldn’t do it on your own.

“One day, my star. Very soon, this will seem like nothing to you. You’ll be able to do it all on your own.” She murmured, dropping your leg but not moving her other hand from its position.

She watched your leg drop in the slightest, you not being able to hold it as she had it. “We’ll work more on this, don’t you worry, little girl.”

“Drop.” She commanded, and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling into the ground, smacking your supporting leg in hopes to ease the cramp. “A little more graceful than that, next time.”

“Yes ma’am.” You said with a shaky breath, looking up at her. A sliver of tears were gathering in your eyes.

She loved it when you called her that. That sweet voice of yours, a little pained and shaky. “Oh it’s alright.. stretch that leg sweetheart, I’ll help you.”

She got on her knees before you, taking off your points shoes and rolling up your tights on that leg before she began to give you a gentle massage. “The trick is to do it in the opposite way you put pressure on it. So up, instead of down. Smacking never really helped me, plus we wouldn’t want to bruise that pretty skin of yours.”

“Thank you..” you said quietly, and Larissa looked up at you with a sweet smile, bringing a hand to caress your cheek. “Of course, my beautiful girl.”

“Did- did I do good?”

“You did wonderfully today. My favorite little student, you’re always a good girl.”

You blushed, resting your head against your knee as you looked at her with a tilted head. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Larissa nodded, patting your cheek. “You may leave now, sweet girl. Don’t practice at home tonight, okay? I don’t want my favorite girl straining herself. I’ll be seeing you here tomorrow.”

#larissa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #gwendoline christie #principal larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems x f!reader #wednesday larissa weems #larissa weems wednesday

488 notes · View notes

azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Note

Hi, I have a request if you don't mind...

Any of the batboys [Or poly with all of them ;)] with an ultra-feminine Reader, with a filthy *wink* *wink* mouth.

She is very into dresses, makeup, dressing up and everything that is considered 'girly', and their mate just thinks she will be all soft and innocent too, how most guys think "Just how females are supposed to be" (Obv, not the bat boys cause they love their women all loud and powerful)

But she literally has the wildest, dirtiest, most unhinged thoughts and just says them without a second thought

and the first time it happens, during IC dinner, she says a string of swears or just says the most sexual thing to her mate and everyone in the IC eyes them and Nesta/Elain (who was a little cold to her for whatever reason) just goes "Ok I was wrong, I love this bitch"

Dirty mouth.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; SWEARING :') , suggestive

Masterlist.

Hello I really hope this is what you had in mind! I had so much fun writing this! If you don't like it you can always ask me to rewrite it I won't get offended. Hope you enjoy it! <3

When you first met Azriel, and the bond snapped you felt like the luckiest female in the world. The shadowsinger was the best mate someone could wish for, he treated you like a queen and even though it had only been six months since you accepted the bond, you felt like you knew everything about him.

You couldn’t say the same for him though since you decided to keep your bolder personality hidden not wanting to scare him away. Azriel only saw a female who cared about clothes and shopping with her friends, he told you how sweet and delicate you are multiple times and always tried to be soft in bed. At first you enjoyed all the protectiveness and affection but as the months passed you decided to stop overthinking before you spoke and let Azriel see who you really are.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You should try these cookies, I got them from the new bakery” Feyre exclaimed and placed a big box on the dining table.

You were in the dining room at the house of wind with the inner circle, Azriel was sitting next to you with one protective wing wrapped around you.

Everyone took a cookie, including your mate who took a bite and let a soft moan.

“What was that?” Cassian chuckled.

“Oh he really likes it, that's the noise he makes when I suck his cock” you giggled.

Azriel choked on the cookie, Rhysand and Cassian gaped at you and the girls burst into laughter. You quirked a brow at Nesta who always gave you a hard time and she winked.

“What did you say?” Azriel asked when he stopped choking.

“That’s how you moan when I suck your cock just before you finish in my thro…” he covered your mouth with his palm and stared at you wide-eyed.

Nesta went hysteric and shouted, “okay I love you”.

That was the first time Azriel saw your true self and as the days passed and you made more comments like that and started cursing too his whole attitude changed and he finally started treating you like he wasn’t afraid of breaking you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were in a meeting with the inner circle and Eris to find a way to kill Beron, the Autumn heir though kept making offensive comments to your mate and you could feel your patience running thin.

“How does it feel to be touched by those disgusting hands?” Eris asked you and silence filled the room.

“Most of the times I squirt” you replied with a smirk. Eris frowned while Azriel’s breath hitched.

“What happened lordling? Cat got your tongue, or you just can’t process the fact that the shadowsinger fucks better than you?” you teased him and got up.

You grabbed the Truth-Teller from your mate and approached Eris.

“Do you know how many times he has fucked me with this?” you asked and touched the tip of the dagger on his cheek. Rhys tensed but Cassian grabbed his shoulder with a proud look.

Azriel’s face flushed, and he gaped at the scene in front of him.

“Do you want to have the honor to feel this inside you too?” you asked, and he shook his head, his face paled.

“Then I suggest shutting your fucking mouth before I sew it.” You growled and walked back to your mate.

The meeting finished after a while and Azriel cupped your jaw staring deep in your eyes

“You never fail to amaze me” he mumbled and kissed you “but to be honest you are scaring me a bit” he continued and smiled.

“And you haven’t seen all of me yet” you replied and pecked his nose before exiting the office, leaving a very worried shadowsinger inside.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time it happened you were having a game night with your friends, you and Azriel were winning but Cassian and Nesta were close behind only two points away.

“You have 7 red” Nesta said.

“Siphons” Cassian exclaimed.

“Oh and Azriel’s siphons are..”

“Blue”

“Time!” Feyre said.

“It’s a tie” Rhysand announced.

“Oh come on those were so easy like asking him what his name is” you protested and Azriel chuckled.

“No I’m just better than you” Cassian teased you.

“Oh fuck off brute” you scoffed, Azriel spat his wine and stared at you.

“Seriously you have to warn me before you do that.” He mumbled and grabbed a napkin.

“Does it hurt to share the victory you little bitch?” Cassian smirked.

“Does it hurt to know that your mate fakes it every night?” Cassian turned to Nesta who was laughing uncontrollably.

“You’re a cocksucker” He shouted and winked to show that he was just messing with you.

“And a good one, ask Azriel” your mate shook his head and glanced at Feyre who was covering Nyx' ears.

After a small fist fight with Cassian, you both burst into laughter and hugged.

“You act like babies” Rhysand spoke. “Shut up” you and Cassian said simultaneously making the high lord lean his head back with a desperate look on his face.

“Okay I think you had enough wine for tonight my little cocksucker” Azriel teased and grabbed your shoulders “Let’s get you in bed”.

“I will show you how good I am” you winked and let him guide you into your shared bedroom ignoring Cassian’s gags.

After a while Azriel got used to your dirty mouth and the way you threatened whoever disrespected him and actually enjoyed it. He felt good having someone to protect him for a change and fight his battles. A few months later he noticed that he started cursing more and was horrified when he realized that he was acting like you, later he started making vulgar comments too and everyone groaned “Now we have two of them”. You had never felt prouder for your mate.

572 notes · View notes

stormhearty · 2 months

Text

Pairings: Eris x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Triggers: pining, reader being shot by arrows, mentions of bloodshed and killing

Summary: Eris watched as your body lay still in the large bed, healing from the poisonous arrows that had penetrated your body. The Autumn Heir is reminded that, no matter how much he loves you, you will always be in danger if you stay around him. Now he has to make a choice… whether to keep you in his arms and protect you with his fire or to unlock the cage and let you go free.

Note: Based on this request! Thank you @strangelygreat for your request! I love this so much. I realized that I never really listened to this song in its entirety. The Broadway version, “If I Can’t Love Her” has a similar feel — it has the same longing and distress. But I listened to <Evermore> and of course, I am in love. <Evermore>, Josh Groban’s version more specifically, has such a beautiful pining feeling; I listened to it while brainstorming and writing this song. This is also based on a scene from the manhwa “Secret Lady”, one which echoes this feeling of pining with angst. I loved this scene in this manhwa, and I highly suggest reading it! This will mostly be under Eris’ POV since the song is from the Beast’s POV as well.

I would suggest listening to the song either before reading this story or during, and please do tell me if I could portray the song correctly!! Or was able to portray a similar feeling to it.

Closing the door behind him with a silent click, Eris stepped into the dimly lit room, his steps leading to a familiar bed, one that held a familiar body underneath its sheets. A hand reached out to grab the back of a chair, dragging it across wooden floors, the echo of scraping wood resonating throughout the quiet room. Placing the chair next to the bed, he gracefully sat down, hands gripping the arms of the chair as amber hues stared at the rise and fall of your back.

The room had grown silent after that, the pitter-patter of rainfall against the large windows and your even breathing occupied the room. It rarely rained in Autumn Court, but lately, Eris felt like the weather matched his mood — bleak, dull, and sober. His gaze moved from your peaceful features to the bandages on your back, the blackened blood that seeped through the white cloth.

It had been a month.

A month since the day you had stepped in front of those poisonous arrows, ones covered with ash — ones that were marked towards him — and almost had your life taken away in front of his very eyes.

He watched as your eyes looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips, the words that slipped from your lips haunting him to this day: “You're okay…”

Eris felt himself stiffen in the chair, hearing the echo of your words through his body. He felt the wood creak underneath his fingertips, his claws splinting the wood underneath them.

He could still see it — how your body slumped against his, that arrow penetrated your skin; how the blood seeped from that wound through your ball gown. He could still smell it — that blood that tricked from the edge of your mouth and onto his pristine clothes. He could still feel it — how your body slowly started to become cold in his warm hands, how your pulse slowed underneath his palm.

The scene was still vivid in his mind — a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked in Autumn Court; on the dangers that followed him. On how every single moment that you lay in this bed, barely hanging into the thread of life — was another reminder to the Autumn Heir that he had started to become selfish — especially when it came to you.

For the longest time, he had restrained himself, his feelings, his obsession when it came to you. You were a fleeting moment — he constantly told himself — one that was not meant to be caged, especially not by him. Not in the political battlefield such as Autumn Court. Not where his brothers waited in the shadows to strike him down every waking second. Not where his father was looking for any weakness to use against him as punishment.

You weren't meant to stay by him, he had concluded.

Eris knew that — from the moment he laid eyes on you, all those years ago.

How you were a breath of fresh air in his suffocating world. You were his haven… an escape from the constant pressures of his Court. He wouldn’t have minded if the world had faded away — all that mattered was you. And Eris knew, oh how he knew, and that very thought was intoxicating and dangerous. All he had wanted to do was to keep you within arm-length, to be able to whisk you away when need be.

But he couldn’t.

“(Y/N)…” Eris murmured your name in the darkness, like a lover whispering sweet nothings.

“I can tell you now…”

Amber hues stared at your sleeping form, unaware of the truth that he was about to spill. Eris knew that the walls listened, his own home against him. But he needed to get it off his chest, to let the world know.

“You were my Goddess for the longest time…”

He shifted slightly to pull pieces of porcelain from his pocket — a broken miniature statue, one that Eris had held onto for all these years. He glanced at the pieces before shifting his hand, to allow them to fall to the wooden floor, the sound barely reaching his ears.

“You were something that I could admire from far away, keeping you at arms distance. Something that I could look at and never touch, never hold. I wasn’t afraid to think of you back then… to wish and yearn for you… To miss you. I never wanted to know who you were, never wanted to know more about you. I was content with just looking.

“But, when I saw you that day… During my coming-of-age ceremony, all those centuries ago, could you imagine — - no… you could never understand how I felt that day.”

You were radiant. A bright light in his dim world. Even in a crowded room, he could spot you from a mile away. You radiated warmth, kindness… purity. Something absent in his world of hatred and betrayal.

A shaky sigh escaped his lips, a hand coming up to run through his copper locks before running down his face, pressing against his eyes to prevent the burn of tears.

“It was the first time in my entire life… I wanted nothing more to do than run.

“You were gorgeous. And for the life of me, I couldn’t look at you without having my heart beat frantically in my chest. I felt like my heart would jump out, for the world to see how much you had affected me.

“Was this love? Was this devotion? Did this shift of emotion mean that I could never be able to seek you out again? That I could never be able to think freely of you? I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to.

“I thought that I would be able to manipulate myself into not loving you. How could I? I didn’t know you… all I had loved was what I could see on the outside. I thought I could manipulate myself into thinking to not fall in love with someone I did not know.

“I had thought it would be easy. I rarely saw you, except on passing occasions… Superficial words of greetings in loud halls. It was fine, for centuries, for me to just silently yearn for you. To allow myself not to hold you tight…”

A broken laugh paused his monologue, his hand dropping back onto the arms of the chair as he looked at you. He shifted out of the chair and moved to sit at the edge of the bed close to your form. Eris reached over, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin underneath his hand — to ensure you were still there… alive. He hesitated, his hand hovering over your back, only to move to gently grasp a piece of your hair. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on that one lock of hair.

“But that night, all those months ago, when you sought me out in the forest, knocking frantically on that small cabin door. You had sacrificed your safety to forewarn me of the assassination attempt by my brother. I knew I had to push you away, I had to keep you hidden from the prying eyes of my father and brothers. For they would know, if I had been a moment too late, pulling you in and hiding you within that closet, they would have known how much you had affected me.

“I knew that I should have let you go that night. I shouldn’t have held your hand and pulled you into that cabin. I should have let you run away from this cage I call my home.

“But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t let you go, not when you were the one who sought me out. For the first time in centuries, you were the one who looked for me.”

Fingers dropped that lock of hair, as he settled his elbows onto his knees, hands, once again, pressing against his face as the tears finally broke… cascading down his cheeks in a never-ending river. He cried in silence, afraid that any sob or cry of grief would wake you up from your slumber.

You were finally within arms grasp.

Eris could reach out and hold you in his arms, to press his lips against yours. To love you as he had wanted.

“I couldn’t lie to myself anymore, (Y/N)… I wanted more. I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms, kiss you in the dead of night, make you moan my name as we made love… I wanted to drink up everything that you had given me. I wanted your eyes to shine only for me.

“And I regretted it so much.”

Eris felt every regret seep into his body — he regretted letting you into his life, into his world of fire.

“You mustn’t let her lay on her back—-” the priestess hummed out, as the glow from her hands faded away, fixing the bandage to cover the wound.

Eris watched, dull amber eyes staring at your face for any indications of pain. He held you in his arms, your head resting against his shoulder as the priestess healed the wound on your back.

“—-For it may fester with the moisture that can build up. You must lay her on her stomach, to let the wound breathe…” The gentle hands of the priestess ran over the wound, and Eris felt you shift in his arms, your face scrunching in pain. He felt himself growl at the priestess, amber eyes lighting in anger.

The priestess bowed in apology, “—- Her feeling pain is better than feeling nothing, my Lord.” With one last bow, the priestess swept away, passing the Lady of Autumn as the doors closed.

Eris didn’t pay attention to his mother, not when you were shivering in his arms. He sighed softly, bringing you closer to his warmth, letting the fire that breathed under his skin warm you. Fingers ran through your tangled hair, trying to undo the knots that came upon you while you were asleep.

“Why did you let (Y/N) into the Forest House?” Lady of Autumn asked her son, finally breaking up the silence of that room.

It had been a day after the incident — a day after you had taken the arrow that should have taken his life. A day since the priestess worked their magic to try to save you from the brink of death.

Eris had been nothing but a statue, forgoing his duties as the Heir of Autumn Court to just sit in that very room, watching you breathe — as if afraid that if he turned away from your body, you would disappear.

He glanced up at his mother for a moment before he leaned down to bury his head into the crook of your shoulder, the feeling and sound of your breathing calming him, reassuring him that you were still alive in his arms.

“Why did you have to —-”

“Mother…” he breathed out, interrupting her question.

Lady Autumn raised a brow, lips pressing as she allowed her son to explain.

“Imagine there is someone you wanted to protect, would do anything to protect. And you realize… that the person you wanted nothing more to protect was in danger because of you. What would you do?”

Eris shifted so he could lay you back on the bed, gently laying you down on your stomach as the priestess told him to do. He sat at the edge of the bed, tugging the bedsheet to cover your lower half, allowing your back to breathe in the cooling air.

“I would do whatever in my power… to ensure their safety…” she answered him.

Eris ran his hand down your back gently once more before he stood up, his feet dragging him over to the window as amber hues stared out into his Court.

“And that’s what I did, Mother… That night, after I had killed Tharetiur, his blood splattered on the wood of that cabin. After (Y/N) had fallen asleep in my bed, I stepped out into the night, wondering what I could do to ensure she was safe. I couldn’t let her go home, not after running for god knows how long to warn me of Tharetiur’s assassination attempt.

“… I had turned to Drucand —-” Eris’s right hand, one of the few people in Autumn Court he could trust with his life, “—-I asked him, ‘Where is the safest place in all of Prythian?’ I watched as Drucan stared at me for a moment, as if I asked a stupid question, before reaching for the holster of his sword…”

Eris remembered how Drucand pulled that holster from his waist and proceeded to hand him his sword.

“’ Heir of Autumn Court, the first son of Beron and Lady Autumn. The Heir whose blood runs with flames. The safest place… would be in your arms, with your fire and sword in hand.’”

A laugh broke out of Eris, his head shaking at the thought.

“I wanted to send her off, wanted to keep the distance between myself and her… But, I couldn’t. And I started to selfishly think that keeping her by my side, with that sword in my hand, might be the most reasonable solution to ensure her safety. I thought… that no danger would touch a hair on her head, not when I would protect her as my hounds do for me…

“But I failed… I failed, Mother…”

Eris turned around and faced his mother, tears finally breaking through his composure. His voice shook at every confession and every truth he thought knew.

“…It seemed that the Gods and the Mother above had led me to her. Fated us to be together… and yet ripped us apart the moment they thought we had gotten too close. That I had gotten too close to her. It seemed that they used her… her kindness, her warmth, her love… as punishment for me and my discretions…”

Eris believed with his whole being that you were his eternal punishment — for forgetting his promise to forget you, to punish him for yearning for you. Your kiss with death… was his punishment for falling in love with you.

The Heir watched as his mother let out a light sob before rushing towards him, holding him in her arms as he broke — as he finally broke. Eris sobbed, his body collapsing onto the ground in the arms of his mother, his hands wrapping around her as he grasped her shoulders, his body shuddering and breaking.

All because he had failed to protect you.

Amber eyes focused on your body once more, as he slipped out of the memory, the tears drying on his cheeks, determination in the depths of his eyes.

“(Y/N)… I had brought you into my life out of a momentary desire. A want, a selfish want, rather than a need. You were no longer the Goddess that I could bask in your light and warmth. You became a person — a living, breathing person — someone who cried and smiled… someone who showed your heart on your sleeve despite living in a Court that could use that against you.

“You showed me that you were like me, alive. I got to know you, your little habits — how you would bite your nails in concentration, how you would fiddle with the ends of your hair when you were nervous. You were an open book — one that I read so easily and greedily.”

How could he resist falling in love with you?

He couldn’t.

Not when you had accepted his flaws, accepted the darkest side of him — and in the end never turned your back on him. You had stuck next to him, in the horrors of his own Court, sticking out your neck for him every second.

How could he not fall in love with you and declare to let you leave?

How could he just have let you go like that? Not when you weaved your soul into his heart and stole it for yourself.

He couldn’t live without your hand in his, your body next to his own in the dead of the night. He couldn’t live without you.

But yet, there he was, he had been so close to losing you. To the terrors of his brother.

He didn’t regret it.

He didn’t regret the bloodshed that night after Drucand had taken your body from his arms.

All he saw was red, and he had no hesitance in taking Drucand’s sword, using his powers to wrap it in flames, and slaughtering his brothers in front of his father and mother.

There had been no ounce of regret in his blood at the sight of their bodies on those marble floors, blood pooling around them. He stared at his father with a glare, before handing Drucand the blood-covered sword back and taking your wounded body into his arms and striding out.

Eris would kill for you, again and again, if he had to. He would cover himself in blood… a sword in his hands, all for you. He would burn Prythian in flames… all so that he would never lose you again.

It was such a dangerous thought.

You were a dangerous addiction to him.

“(Y/N)… What if…”

There was only one way for him to fulfill his promise — his promise to the Gods, to the Mother.

He leaned over your body, his hand gently running down your leg, over your calf, and grasping your foot.

“What if I would carve my heart out, severing my feelings for you… Would that be enough to protect you and keep you alive from the dangers of my life?”

Eris pressed a kiss against the top of your foot, a notion of devotion from the Heir of Autumn Court.

“If that would be the case… then I would gladly take my sword, and hand you my bleeding heart. To show my eternal devotion and my love for you…”

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #eris x reader #eris angst #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar fandom #eris vanserra x reader #( .inbox request: notions of devotion )#( .inbox request )

312 notes · View notes

lucysarah-c · 2 months

Text

Fifteen, what an age to be alive. Dad!Levi

Summary: Steal your father's car! What could go wrong? Author note: Since the Marley world seemed to be around the 30s-40s, I’ll set this idea in a world that looks like the mid-50s. This is POST WAR. Warnings: Cursing 'cause Levi, obv. And slightly mention of a group taking advantage of a girl, nothing really happens and there's no graphic description at all. Word count: 3.9k Pairing: Dad! Levi x Mom! Reader

His hands gripped the big round wheel of the car as his eyes scanned the dark night with a nervous smile, quickly turning into clenched teeth. His attention shifted to the passenger seat, soft as if it was a scene from one of the horror pictures he saw at the drive-in.

A light blond girl lay unconscious, her head resting against the door, appearing lifeless. She wore a typical sleeveless red button-up shirt and very short white shorts, with white socks crumpled down to double-coloured loafers. Her hair was still in a ponytail, exposing her face completely. It was August, plain summer break, and he knew that most of his classmates wore shorts or even swimsuits at the pool or beach. But somehow, her exposure made him blush and feel ashamed, as if even staring felt wrong.

Turning to the back seat of the car, he picked up his letterman jacket and placed it on top of her, covering her as much as possible. It looked big on her, and somehow, Adrien blessed every deity mentioned; he probably was inheriting his father’s uncle’s height and not his father's, a fact becoming rather obvious every day, as he was only 15 and already almost 1.80m.

“Calm down, Adie… you got this,” he whispered to himself, “I’ve no idea what I'm going to do but I got it.”

How did he get into this situation? It was supposed to be a silly night out; one of his friends invited him to a party of the seniors who were graduating from high school that year. What was the issue if he was just a freshman? Fifteen, eighteen, it’s the same! Plus, it was some party at some old forgotten building, half destroyed during the rumbling around ten years ago, in the middle of nowhere. Nothing wrong with that.

Yes, perhaps he stole his father’s keys and car. Yes, perhaps he lied about sleeping in his room. Yes, maybe he stole a bit (a lot) of money from his parents. “I mean… deep down, it’s my father’s fault for not allowing me to come legally,” Adrien argued with his own reflection in the car's mirror.

But everything went downhill when he saw a group of guys dragging a girl who was clearly not feeling well and decided to step in. Now, here he was, the party had turned into a mess as the fight happened, he got kicked out with an unconscious girl, and who knew what they had given her. He hit his forehead against the wheel as time slipped through his fingers; he was supposed to be back home already.

“Fucking shit! Who told me to step in!” he cursed under his breath. Deep down, he knew stepping up for what he had been told was horrendously wrong, knowing he had the strength to fight those assholes back. ‘The curse of being a fucking Ackerman, man,’ he thought.

He had done the right thing, at least one right thing during the entire night, but now he had to face the consequences. Muffled cries mixed with distressed groans filled the car, “My father is going to kill me!”

His forehead kept hitting the wheel repeatedly as if that would knock some common sense into him or perhaps give him a concussion and fake that he had been kidnapped or something. Surrounded by trees in a dead-end road, it wasn’t even paved. Only the footprints of multiple cars to follow back to civilization. The distressed teen didn’t even know where he was; his older friend had guided him there and left with his girlfriend at some point of the party.

Slowly raising his head up again to admire the endless kilometres of dim nothing, contemplating his options, seizing his courage. “Come on, Adie. Be a man, be a man!”

The trees’ branches creaked in the middle of the night, the car slightly swayed under the strong summer wind. “I want my mommy,” he muttered.

Hand on the wheel and turning on the car, one step at a time, he took a deep breath and then decided to go out on the road again. Forgotten somewhere, his father’s car’s papers and driver's license. In them it read “Levi Ackerman.”

Each branch from the forest that scraped the car was a personal pain, praying to any god's existence that it didn’t scratch it. Of course, his father had filled up the tank, obviously he had. Levi was like that, always cautious. Adrien did a personal wish his father had a map stored in the glove compartment, but obviously, he didn’t. After all, Levi knew the streets of the city like the back of his hand. He drove a lot, especially since his legs weren’t what they used to be anymore. Perhaps he didn’t need any support for walking any longer, but walking long distances wasn’t in Levi’s plans anymore.

“Perhaps I can… drive to the hospital, leave her, and like run away,” he contemplated, before groaning loudly, “No, I can’t do that. God, I’m dead.”

‘I could have walked away, but no, Mr. Adrien Ackerman has to be a hero. Mr. Ackerman has to do the right thing.’

Adrien had driven twice in his life; this one was the second. The first was a few years ago when his father sat him down on his lap and let him do it for a little bit. He was happy he hadn’t encountered much traffic and only had to drive ahead because he wasn’t completely sure yet what the third pedal was for.

“I got it, do not worry,” he said, trying to sound reassuring to the unmoving girl on his right. Adrien’s grey eyes checked on her from time to time, but she seemed deeply asleep, or so he hoped. “I’ll get to the hospital in no time, and you’ll be alright,” he promised.

His smile created a couple of dimples on each side of his face, but it quickly faded as fear kicked in. “And if you’re not alright, do not worry. I’ll throw myself off a bridge, and we can be not alright together,” he kept joking as if, by some miracle, the girl would reply.

He didn’t even know her name, and somehow, that made him feel even guiltier. As civilization began to appear and the sky began to lighten up, he lost hope of not dying at the hands of his own progenitor, but he was also hopeful that at least he was getting somewhere without crashing. The sun hadn’t shown up yet, but the deep blue of the sky had a particular glow to it that made it imminent.

The streets were deserted, and rightfully so; it was the middle of the night on a Monday. Adrien tried to park the car as best as he could, finally reaching the only hospital he somehow remembered the route to. Rushing to the other door, he carefully picked her up.

When he crossed the doors of the main hospital, which was almost empty at those hours, the doctors on duty quickly took her in, some searching for identifications inside her clothes. The police officer at the front gates forbade him from leaving the place.

“Alright, please hand me your ID,” the front gate secretary asked after informing him that the girl was out of danger, but she would have to stay for monitoring. Adrien’s suspicious silence made the woman raise her eyes from the form she was filling out to look at him. “You know that carrying IDs is obligatory, right?”

“Yes, madam…” He felt his palm sweating as he feared being taken to the police station.

“How old are you?”

Her voice sounded calm but tired as she quickly understood the issue, “… eighteen.”

With a loud sigh, she took off her cat-eye red glasses and then slowly blinked back at him. “Look kid, I’ve been on night watch for three days straight. I’ve no energy to deal with this.”

Adrien’s eyes remained glued to the floor, feeling small despite his stature. “… fifteen,” he admitted reluctantly.

Her unpleasant groans echoed in the empty walls that reeked of disinfectant. He slowly turned to the gates, and the security guys began to chuckle as they drank coffee. Feeling the need to clarify, he said, “I swear it wasn’t me who hurt her.”

“Kid, people who drug girls don’t carry them to hospitals,” she replied disinterestedly, pouring the information into the typewriter, the typing echoing in the place. Finally, she picked up a post-it with a pencil and raised it to the top of the reception table. “Your parents' contact number, please.”

Her eyes quickly moved to him and then back to her writing as he hesitated to fill out the paper. “You know I’ve done nothing; can’t I just go?” Adrien insisted, trying to escape the situation.

“Kid, you’re breaking national curfew and walking around without identification. A responsible adult must come and sign for you to leave; otherwise, you’ll live here until you turn 18.”

“Could you at least wait until 9 am to call my mother’s work number?” He smiled awkwardly, trying to find a way to avoid his father’s rage. The secretary looked up at the clock; it wasn’t even 5 am and then back to him, deadly. Unpleasant complaining groans echoed as he reluctantly wrote his house’s telephone number. “Sorry.”

Sat down at one of those uncomfortable waiting room’s seats with a latte and chocolate donut he brought at the cafeteria, he waited as someone waits to be hanged. The doctors and nurses moved here and there attending to the few people that came in with emergencies. Until the secretary walked by and said, “Your father picked up the phone; he said that getting the car and coming this way.”

Adrien’s grey eyes quickly turned in fear to check out of the window, grimacing uneasily as he admired the family's car parked outside. “Great…”

The longer it took, the more Adrien knew he was in trouble. Pressing his eyes closed and clenching his jaw, as if he could already feel the kick in his ass. Despite the nerves, his head bobbed forward as he fell asleep, and the tug of falling forward snapped him back awake. At some point, he rested his head on the joined seat and fell asleep, mouth open.

The front gates snapping open woke him up, and he wished to make himself smaller so he could hide behind the back of the seats. But as he turned backwards, Levi was at the front desk talking to the secretary and security guards. His dark hair was a mess, and it seemed like he had just put on some shoes and a shirt because he still had the pyjama pants on. Outside, the cap that his father had probably been forced to take there.

As the secretary picked up the forms for him to fill, his father quickly raised his grey eyes to shoot him across the room the deadliest glance he had yet to witness. ‘Goodbye everybody, it was nice knowing you.’

Avoiding facing death, Adrien remained seated, giving his back, but he quickly heard the footsteps of his father, characterized by the slight hobble he had after the war. With his presence looming, he looked down at Adrien, who slowly raised his attention up.

Smiling innocently, “Hi, dad.”

Levi didn’t smile back; quite the opposite, he frowned even more and extended his right hand that was missing two fingers. “My fucking keys.”

The teen searched for them inside his jeans and quietly handed them over with puppy eyes. Levi snapped them, but his hand didn’t withdraw. “And my damn money.” Repeating the same action but with the bills, Levi grabbed them and began to count. “And the rest?”

Adrien mumbled some incoherent groans as he refused to make eye contact. “Tch,” Levi clicked his tongue and gripped his shirt neck, raising him from his seat, pushing him to the exit. “Get in the fucking car.”

The walk of shame only accentuated as his father's angry tone didn’t match the polite one he used to greet the secretary and guards on his way out. He cowered in the passenger seat, trying to make himself a tiny ball as Levi slammed the door shut. Loud sighs that didn’t withdraw the deep frown before he turned on the car again.

“You’re so fucking wrong if you think I’ll stand this type of behaviour; I'm telling you,” Levi spat the words as he drove back home. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Adrien!” Levi insisted as the kid didn’t even reply, looking to his right as he waited at a red light. “You don’t want to talk? Fine, fucking ungrateful brat. You know how fucking worried your mother was when we received a call from the shitty hospital? Eh?”

“The drive-in the other day, the supposed hang out at your friend’s house that you were never fucking there, and now this. Are you fucking proud?” the ex-captain of the scouts kept going as his eyes were glued to the road despite only one of them working anymore. “You’re grounded, you’re so fucking grounded that I’ll fucking die, and you’ll have to get a damn Ouija board to contact me to see if you can go out to buy groceries.”

The teen just silently rolled his eyes as the long list of unhappiness of his father about his behaviour couldn’t care less. “Don’t you dare to roll your eyes on me, brat. You heard me? Drop that fucking attitude.” Somehow his father always seemed to have eyes everywhere. “Happy now? You ruined your entire summer break; beg all you want later on. You’re not leaving the house.”

“As if you’d let me go out anyway,” Adrien murmured mockingly under his breath.

“What?” Levi demanded. “If you’re going to have the guts to steal MY car, MY money, and break MY orders, then grow the guts to speak the fuck up.”

“That you never let me go anywhere!” Adrien shouted back angrily.

“For what? To go to this damn party in the middle of nowhere to hang out with fucking rapists and get

shit-faced?” Levi argued back. “You think I was born yesterday? I know exactly which places I don’t want you to get involved with. You think you’ve everything figured out, but that’s not it, Adrien! You’re 14! Fourteen!”

“I’m fifteen!”

“You turned fifteen two weeks ago, for fuck’s sake!” Levi shouted, slightly turning to his right before focusing back on the road. “I’m telling you, better fix your attitude or this is not going to end well. You may be getting big and feel cocky, but you won’t play smart-ass with me. You can grow up to be as tall as the fucking Colossal Titan, and yet you would do whatever the fuck I tell you!”

“I did the right thing! I stood up for her; I’m not stupid enough to do whatever my classmates do. Why can’t you see that?!” Adrien complained as they reached the front of the house, and Levi stopped the car.

“’Cause you were stupid enough to steal my car even when you don’t know how to fucking drive!” Levi complained as he got out of the car, walking to the front door. He kept going with the lecture but lower as he didn’t want to wake up the neighbours. “You don’t like it? Choose another father in your next life; in this one, it’s me, and I’m not going to let my teenage kid not give a fuck about the decisions I take. I’ve gone through too much shit for a fucking brat to tell me what I believe is the best for them.”

They both walked in, and Levi locked the door behind them. The room was still dim for the early hours, and their dog greeted them enthusiastically. The keys dropping at the front plate echoed loudly, and the tuxedo cat of the family finally appeared to rub himself against the legs of the teen, who quietly picked him up. Y/N quickly rushed to check on her kid.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you somewhere?” She seemed clearly agitated, and Adrien remained with his eyes glued to the floor.

“No, mom,” he murmured, downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Oi, to your damn room,” Levi quickly ordered. “and clean it up; I won’t say it again.”

The kid left, cursing under his breath as he went upstairs and slammed the front door shut.

“What happened?” she asked Levi, who was preparing himself a tea to calm down, enveloping herself in a negligee.

“What happened? That kid is driving me nuts, that’s what's happening,”

Y/N sighed loudly, positioning herself behind her husband and running her hands through his arms, seeking to provide some comfort. She then switched to hugging him from behind. “He’s going through a phase… his new classmates are mostly kids who survived the rumbling, and some of them aren’t the best influence. He just wants to fit in, you know how important that is at his age.”

“Tch,” Levi kept facing the countertop, murmuring as the anger didn’t quickly wash away. But eventually, he closed his eyes and sighed loudly as the adrenaline slowed down. “The audacity of that kid, where the hell does he get it?”

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle against his back, “MH, I wonder,” she said sarcastically. “If they were still around, perhaps we could have asked some senior MPs… perhaps they could enlighten us on how you were as a teen,”

“I wasn’t like that,” Levi softly replied, almost ashamed of the point out.

“No haha you were worse,” Y/N was entertained as she kissed his shoulder blades tenderly. “Or do I have to remind you how you made me sneak out to meet you after curfew?”

“That’s different…”

Forcing him to turn around to place a kiss on his scar as she caressed his face softly, “He’s your kid,” she murmured against his lips. “He hates to be told what to do and has the strength to know he can get out of almost any situation. Asking him to be submissive is like asking him not to be an Ackerman; he got it in his genes,”

Levi just groaned, accepting the caress, her loving his face as if he was brand new and the residues of the war had never happened.

Days passed by, and while the mood in the house was slowly returning to calmness, the punishment still stood, and Adrien was reading in his bedroom, suffering the heat of summer without being able to go out with his friends. He couldn’t even play his record player because if in normal cases his father tolerated him to play his favourite bands loudly, now he was almost cursed to quietness. Levi didn’t seem to be very fond of Rock; perhaps Paradise music was too behind, and the period of adaptation was lacking. It sounded like loud noise to him.

A quiet knock at the front door was heard, mostly because the dog that was resting beside him in his bed raised hastily and rushed downstairs. The noise was almost imperceptible as his father was vacuuming the living room’s carpet while his mother prepared dinner. Adrien was about to raise himself from his bed and open the door himself, but the overwhelmingly loud noise of the vacuum stopped, so he guessed his father was on it.

Levi opened the front door without checking; he had faced so many adversities in life that he hardly doubted that anyone who rang his bell at 6 pm on a Thursday in their quiet family neighbourhood was a threat. “Yes?” he crossed his arms as he admired the young girl at the front gates. She was wearing the usual outfit of the time, white and brown loafers, crumpled low white socks, an inflated pastel yellow skirt that was tightly around her waist with a white blouse. The matching light cardigan was hanging from her shoulders, but she didn’t seem to put it on, another thing that Levi thought was some stupid new fashion trend from teens. That and his son’s imperious necessity to fold the sleeves of his t-shirts. High ponytail and blushed cheeks.

“Good evening, Mr. Ackerman,” The girl greeted him with kindness and politeness.

“Hello,” Levi replied, almost uninterested, his usual unfriendly nature not withdrawn even after years of not being on service.

“I was wondering if Adrien is at home,” she asked, and Levi wished he could roll his eyes at how almost immediately the girl blushed at the mention of his son’s name. “I’m the girl from the other night; I wanted to thank him…” seeing Levi’s slight frown at the memory of that early morning, she nervously added, “And you, of course, for what he did for me,” The young girl handed a package that was easily deduced to be a cake.

“He’s grounded,” Levi quickly replied. “And you don’t need to thank him; he did the only right thing to do. I don’t raise abusers,”

“Oh…” the disappointment in her voice was palpable, “Well, but please at least take the cake? For all the inconvenience,”

“No, kid, it’s alright-”

“Hi, sweetie! Adrien will be down in a minute!” Y/N popped behind Levi, slightly pushing him to the side and smiling softly at the girl. “Do you want to wait inside?”

Levi looked at his wife, confused and slightly offended by how quickly she overstepped him in the conversation.

“Ah, no, it’s alright; I don’t want to be a bother-”

Adrien appeared behind his parents, wondering what the whole issue was, and his mother quickly pushed him forward. “There he is!” She added while tugging Levi back inside. “Let’s give him some space,” she whispered to her husband, who was refusing to move.

“Oi,” Levi complained as he was forced back inside.

Both parents faking to be doing something in the living room to not be seen; Levi wasn’t spying, but his wife was. “She’s so cute,” she whispered, “and she’s crushing so much on him.”

Levi clicked his tongue, “He’s tall. All girls of that age crush on tall boys,” he argued back.

Y/N chuckled and turned to look at him, “talking from experience?”

“Ha ha,” Levi faked a sarcastic laugh. “He’s supposed to be grounded,”

“Shh, I can’t hear!” She hushed him back and then moved slightly as Levi joined her next to the window.

“Great,” Levi said annoyed, “she’s fucking bonnie,”

Confusion was written all over his wife's face as she grimaced dazed and raised an eyebrow, silently asking how those words could be said with such disappointment.

“Now I won’t only have to buy him all those stupid vinyl records, textbooks, and uniforms for the school team, but I’ll also have to start buying condoms; there goes my fucking salary,”

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

374 notes · View notes

pastanest · 6 months

Text

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: I’ve got nothing to say except for the fact this is entirely inspired by the song

warnings: shrimp gets beat up pretty bad but you singlehandedly take out like 3 guys so xoxo

Holding Out For A Hero

The entire team, save for one, are gathered around Penelope’s monitors, holding their breaths. As the newest member of the team, you had anticipated that in a situation such as this, you’d be having the least severe reaction to the scene before you, but upon seeing Doctor Spencer Reid get thrown against a wall, you are entirely unsurprised by the squeeze you feel in your chest.

“Damn it, Hotch, we’ve gotta do something!” Derek Morgan yells, clasping his hands behind his head but unable to tear his gaze from the screens.

What should have been a simple task of meeting some witnesses regarding a local case has quickly become a hostage situation that none had anticipated.

There are unified gasps as a harsh kick is landed against the young genius’s midsection, and Hotch sighs, knowing that something has to be done, but the team are presently at a loss.

“Any presence recognised as official could get Reid killed.” Hotch reiterates, though it’s a fact none of you have forgotten.

Another kick causes Spencer to curl up in the corner, his form cowering on the monitors, and you decide that’s enough, storming out of Penelope’s office.

“Must be tough on her.” Emily glances sympathetically at the door you left through, the rest of the team nodding in agreement, seemingly accepting that you had to step out because you couldn’t stand to see Spencer get beaten up like that. While that isn’t entirely untrue, there is more of a purpose behind your exit.

Just a month ago, during your first case with this team, a local police officer had decided you were the object of his affections. While you’d dismissed his advances as politely as you could, Spencer couldn’t help overhearing the conversation, and his blood boiled.

“No need to be so stuck-up about it!” The cop huffed at you, and in the time it took for your eyebrows to shoot up, Spencer had arrived at your side.

“Speak to her that way again and I’ll have you removed from this case.” His words were cool, calculated, and enough to send the police officer shuffling away from you.

Looking up at Spencer with a grateful smile, you parted your lips to speak, but he smiled right back at you and interjected.

“I know what you’re going to say, and you don’t need to. All I did was the bare minimum, as a guy.” Spencer excused his chivalry with a bashfulness that you found beyond endearing, and have continued to do.

It seems that now, an opportunity has presented itself for you to perform your equivalent of the bare minimum for him.

Speeding through the office and over to your desk, you retrieve your overnight bag and head for the staff toilets. Digging through it, you find your emergency attire that’s typically reserved for undercover missions; a thin strapped, silky red dress that’s enough to stop traffic, and a pair of killer black stilettos.

Within five minutes, you’ve slammed the door of Penelope’s office open again and dropped your go bag on the ground, attracting the attention of the rest of the team.

“Well damn, mama, I didn’t think this would be the time, but-“ Derek begins, unable to resist a moment to flirt; with no time to spare, you cut him off.

“Button it, Morgan. Text me the location, I’m going to get Reid.” You instruct, not wanting to waste another second.

Penelope’s office is momentarily silent, several jaws falling open in shock. That is, until Derek speaks up again.

“What?! No!” He exclaims, outraged at your proposition.

You sigh. “One plus one is two, you need someone to get inside without raising suspicion - problem?”

Derek scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, actually!”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention to the only member of the team that’s aware of your applicable qualifications.

“Gideon?” You raise an eyebrow.

With a slow smile, Jason Gideon nods. “…She can do it.”

Derek throws his arms up in the air. “Am I missin’ something here?!”

Hotch is notably silent. Though knowledgeable on the ‘classified’ portion of your resumé, he does not know the details of your work prior to this team, save for your glowing letter of recommendation from your old boss; that, in itself, was enough to land you a place on this team.

You nod, reaching down to grab a small purse from inside your go-bag. “Yep. I’ll catch you up after. See you guys in 30.” Glancing around at the rest of the team one last time, you speed out of the office with a determination to match the loud clicking or your heels.

By the time you reach the parking lot, your phone has dinged with a text from Penelope with the exact location where Spencer is being held by the gang that are currently beating him senseless. Whistling a nearby cab, you slide into the backseat, give the address for the next street over to where you need to be, and apply the finishing touches to your outfit. With expert precision, you coat your lashes with thick layers of mascara, only to rub them, then hold your eyes open long enough to induce tears that cause trails of mascara to run down your cheeks. And with reckless abandon, you tear a slit up the right side of your dress. As the cab pulls up on the next street over to your destination, you step out with a grateful tip and begin your walk.

The closer you get to the only lit up house on the mostly empty street, you ensure your steps are unsteady and work yourself up enough, focussing your thoughts on what Spencer has endured until now to force fresh tears and actual upset to bubble in your chest. Approaching the house, you raise a shaking fist to knock on the door with deliberate weakness. The doorknob twists, and you sniffle. Action.

Standing in the doorway are the very men you’re here to see, and your bottom lip trembles as you give them your biggest doe eyes.

“H-Hello, I’m so sorry to bother you, b-but I was just wondering if I could use your phone? M-My boyfriend broke mine.” You blubber, holding your face in your hands for dramatic effect. Stuttering to feign anxiety and upset, mention of a boyfriend but purposely indicating mistreatment and vulnerability: you are no more than an easy target.

The men share a smirk.

“Oh, of course! You poor thing! C’mon in!” One of them says, ushering you inside with a cheshire grin.

These poor fools really think they’re lucking out with a punching and an upgrade from a sock.

Nodding gratefully, you stumble into their shack of a ‘home’, knowing this is just a temporary hold up for them, and mainly a location to hold Spencer.

“Wh-Who’s that?” You ask shakily, eyes widening with what should be pretend shock, but your surprise at seeing the sorry state of your favorite genius is as genuine as your intentions in being here.

At the sound of your voice, the one eye Spencer has that isn’t black with bruising, winces as it opens, then widens as much as it can to take you in. Are you real, or a vision from heaven? He’s asked himself that everyday since you joined the team, but that question has never felt more relevant than it does in this moment.

“Ignore him.” One of the other men instructs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and dragging you harshly over to a chair at the dining table.

That quick glance in Spencer’s direction was enough to bring him a second wind, a cause to fight to stay conscious. The mascara stains down your cheeks and the tear in your dress - which, on any other occasion, Spencer is sure would send him into cardiac arrest - cause alarm bells to ring in the mind of a genius. Who made you cry? Did someone hurt you? What are you even doing here? The questions in his mind are ordered in importance to Spencer, the blood in his veins that’s fighting to fix the wounds he’s sustained through his beating, burning under his skin at the thought of someone having harmed you in any way, despite his current circumstances.

“So, where’s your boyfriend?” One of the men asks, and you pretend that the thought of your completely fictional boyfriend makes you wince.

“He stood me up.” You cry weakly, putting on the performance of your life.

Spencer wonders if his injuries have made him delirious as he now prioritizes whether his heart should have spluttered at your mention of a boyfriend he is certain - because he’s currently scanning through his eidetic memory at the speed of light - you have never referred to having before.

“Oh, now, what kind of man stands up a dime like you?” The man who had invited you in, jeers.

“Thank you.” Sniffling, a small smile reaches your face as all three men stand within range; one at the table with you, one against the wall to your right, the other standing behind your chair. Perfect.

The team crowd around Penelope’s monitors, the anxiety in the room palpable.

“What the hell is she doing?!” Derek yells, frustrated and confused by Gideon’s allowance for your reckless one-woman suicide mission.

“Trust me, if anyone can do this, she can.” Jason attempts to reassure the worries of everyone, a soft smile on his face as he watches you do what you do best: set your scene.

“She’s ballsy, that’s for sure.” Emily comments, undeniably impressed.

The air in the office is thick, the tension only capable of cutting with a knife; there’s a certain irony in that.

One of the men pats your shoulder with force.

“You stay with us, we’ll take care of you.” He laughs darkly, and you smile up at him.

Alright, show’s over.

Standing from your chair, you pretend to stumble over to the front door, before locking it.

“What’re you doing, pretty lady?” The man leaning against the wall asks you with a smirk.

“Actually, boys, I think you’ll find it’s me that’s going to be taking care of you. Or, to put it another way-“ Reaching into your purse, you grab a makeup wipe and quickly remove the mascara from your cheeks, smirking right back at all three men. “-I’ll be taking you out.” Looking to the corner of the room, you smile at Spencer. “Sit tight, handsome.”

He must be dead, he thinks. Doctor Spencer Reid, beaten to death and the best comfort his subconscious can provide him is the illusion of you calling him handsome.

Pulling the slit of your dress just a little higher, you retrieve the blade previously concealed in a particularly scandalous garter you acquired entirely for the aesthetic, and twirl it around your fingers.

“So, any takers? Let’s see, eenie-“ You point your blade at the man leaning against the wall, “-meenie,” You point it to the man who is standing behind the chair you’d sat in, “-minie,” You point it at the man sitting at the table, and as he reaches for something in his pocket, your eyes twinkle with mischief. “-mo!” You chirp, throwing your blade at the exact moment he raises his arm to you, pinning his wrist to the table.

In a fraction of a second, both of the other men lunge for you, and you manage to roll out of their way in the nick of time.

“Awh, c’mon guys, fair’s fair! At least give a girl a chance!” You taunt, kicking your killer heels off and chucking both at the larger man’s head, sending him stumbling backwards into the wall with the impact. One on one, much better.

Sights set on the only other person standing up in this room, you watch as his eyes dart to Spencer, and in an instant you’ve rolled back across the floor to stand in front of the corner that he’s cowered in.

“Don’t you dare.” You threaten quietly, icy stare fixed on the last man standing.

“Oh, but pretty lady, you’ve got nothing left to throw! You’re out of options.” He sneers, taking a step closer to you.

Very presumptuous to suggest you actually needed your props beyond your dramatic flair and desire to get this done as quickly as possible.

But, in the moment, you decide to humor him.

Pretending to cower further into the corner with Spencer at your feet, your eyes widen with feigned fear, the confidence in the idiot’s smirk growing as he takes another step.

“That’s it. We can forget all about this. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?” The man’s voice softens with condescension, and you nod up at him with your doe eyes.

Does he seriously think you’d incapacitate both of his friends and then decide to sleep with him? Men.

Counting the seconds, you wait until his figure looms over with you, and you lean back against the wall. You hold his gaze, doe eyes widening and bottom lip trembling, until the facade drops like a mask. Fury is a woman, and she wears a torn red dress with a smirk, her heels having left imprints on some idiot’s skull.

The last man standing’s smirk drops to a confused frown, but he doesn’t have time to step back before you lift your leg and send your knee into his crotch with as much force as you can. And while he stumbles backwards, you kick him to the floor, then kick his midsection again for good measure.

With him dealt with, you walk back over to your heels and slip them on, but as the man they previously knocked out begins to stir, you issue a well deserved roundhouse kick to send him back to sleep. Strolling over to the man who’s wrist you pinned to the table, you find that he is very clearly in shock and losing a lot of blood, but not enough to be dead just yet; you left the blade in for a reason.

“My team are watching, and they’ve probably called an ambulance by now. Whether they’ll make it in time to save you or not, I don’t care. For your sake, though-“ You pull the blade out of his wrist, tucking it back into your garter and watching the blood gush against the table, leaning close to the man’s ear. “-I wouldn’t bother applying pressure to that, because if you live long enough to serve your sentence and get out, I’ll do much worse than what I’ve been allowed to do here on company time.” And with a malicious smile, you stand back up, then spin on your heel and rush over to Spencer.

Crouching down beside him, you brush his hair out of his eyes with your fingertips, tucking it behind his ears just the way he likes it.

“Hey, pretty boy. Sorry for the wait.” You give him a sweet smile, your tone gentle, far and away from the venom with which you’d been speaking throughout your cleanup operation.

Spencer tries to speak, but immediately starts spluttering and clutching at his bruised abdomen.

“Shh, shh, don’t speak, it’s okay. The team’ll be here soon.” You coo, continuing to stroke his hair behind his ears, though it’s no longer out of place.

“N-No, it’s important.” Spencer utters, voice hoarse and strained.

Your eyebrows furrow as you lean closer to him so that he doesn’t have to try speaking any louder. “What is it?”

Taking a deep, wheezing breath, Spencer manages to find his voice again.

“Think…I know someone…who can fix your dress.”

You blink rapidly, a wide smile spreading on your face as his words set in, before you start laughing heartily.

And Spencer struggles, but he opens his one good eye to gaze upon your smiling features above him, etching every detail to his eidetic memory.

“So, I can assume that you like the dress, then?” You ask rhetorically.

This time, Spencer doesn’t say anything. Instead, you watch in equal amazement and amusement as a smirk curls at the corner of his split lips.

Within a matter of minutes, the rest of the team pull up in government issue vehicles with police cars and ambulances close behind, your targets being tended to and arrested, while Hotch and Derek help carry Spencer out to the ambulance. Due to the severity of his beating, the paramedics advise it’s best to keep him unconscious and medicated for the journey to the hospital. Naturally, you sit at his side, holding his hand the whole way.

And that’s a gesture you continue the moment he’s been checked over, too. You stay at Spencer’s hospital bedside, holding his hand until he regains consciousness, at which time you relay his diagnosis from the doctors: no serious injuries or internal bleeding, just a large amount of bruising that’ll be substantially painful for a while. Spencer is relieved by the news, but mostly relieved by your presence. He’s so simultaneously exhausted, and taken by the way you glow at his bedside, he can hardly say more than a continuous mantra of “Thank you”.

Due to his lack of serious injury, Spencer is cleared to return to work without delay, under the advice of being careful of his bruises when out in the field. In truth, Spencer knows that as long as you’re around, he won’t feel an ounce of the pain that’s supposed to be plaguing him.

The very next night, the team are called back into the office for a case, and the smile on your face when you see Spencer has him questioning once again how you can possibly be real. You seem so much more like a vision from heaven, or of heaven itself.

It’s late and the flight to the location of the case is a long one, so Hotch instructs everyone to board the jet and get some sleep, assuring you all that he’ll wake you with enough time for a briefing before you land. And the ever-calculated Spencer Reid knows exactly how to use this to his advantage. Counting in his head the average time it takes someone to fall asleep, he waits for each and every member of the team fo fall asleep before he rises from his seat on the jet and crosses the cabin to sit beside you, visibly giddy.

“I was thinking about what you said to those guys.” He begins, words rushed because he doesn’t have the patience to greet you right now.

“Which part?” You ask with an amused smile.

“When you said you’d take them out.” Spencer clarifies quickly. “I’ve been thinking about those words a lot, and- well,” He chuckles nervously. This is about to be the cheesiest thing he’s ever said. “-I wondered if you might consider letting me take you out, but in a different way?”

Your expression flashes to one of surprise, the realization hitting you like the sweetest bullet. “Like a date, or a different method of incapacitation?” You ask playfully, accurately predicting the way Spencer’s eyes widen in panic at the thought of the double entendre.

“A date!” He squeaks.

You can’t help giggling, nodding at him. “I’d like that a lot. Thank you for asking, Spencer.”

The relief on his face is palpable. In fact, he’s never felt his face relax quite like it did in that moment. “No, thank you for accepting. Are you, uh, free on Saturday, by any chance? If we don’t get called away on a case?” Spencer enquires, desperately hoping that he isn’t coming across as too eager.

You grin. “I am.”

“Good.” Spencer answers, a shy smile on his face as the reality of this situation sets in.

“Are you going to sleep?” You ask him quietly.

“To be honest, I’m not so sure I’ll be able to sleep at all until Saturday.” Spencer chuckles nervously.

You giggle at that. “Well, it’s probably a good idea to try. Do you mind if I borrow your shoulder?” You question with a teasing smile.

“No! Not at all!” Spencer says without hesitation.

“Thanks, handsome.” You say softly, resting your head on his shoulder from where you sit beside him on the jet, bundling your blanket around yourself.

There it is again, Spencer thinks. Unless this plane crashed in a microsecond and killed everyone onboard, he’s pretty sure that this time, it’s not his subconscious creating a comforting illusion. You really did call him that.

And, in light of such a life-altering revelation, Spencer plucks up courage that he didn’t know he had.

“You’re always welcome, beautiful.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #SoundCloud

868 notes · View notes

good-griief · 1 year

Text

already decided

i just had a lil thought ab protective!ellie, so in love w her gf she'd do anything to keep her safe

Ellie’s temper was as short as she was. She couldn’t manage it for the life of her, and when it came to you, she didn’t even try.

“Are you some kind of fucking moron?!” She’d yelled at Jesse one day when you came back from patrol with a nasty scratch on your arm.

“I fell—“

“Should’ve fucking caught her, Jesse—“

“Are you fucking insane?” He’d asked, earning a cartoonish shrug in response. “Broaden your vocabulary, Ellie.”

She then went on to say ‘fuck’ as many times as she could before Jesse walked away.

If you didn’t shut her up, she’d probably end up flying off the handle— though, you couldn’t say those rare occasions were undeserved. When they were serious, there was always a reason; like when Maria spooked your horse and you fell off, the animal nearly breaking your arm before Ellie grabbed the reins. Or when you weren’t on full alert during a patrol, nearly got swarmed, and she had to get you out of the situation.

There was always a reason any time she went overboard, but tonight was different; she never got this way.

There was a guy bothering you at the bar, continuously getting drinks and trying to talk to you despite you rejecting his advances. He was new, so you didn’t want to be harsh, but Ellie didn’t care about that at all.

“Hey, can you back the fuck up off my girlfriend?” She asked, overly sweet, as she walked over to him, smiling despite how pissed off she was. You'd told her how uncomfortable you were after she came back from the bathroom, the man getting more bold with her gone and nearly making you want to follow after her or find Joel and Tommy. “She’s very clearly not fucking interested.”

You didn’t know what led to what you could hear next, as Ellie had been keeping quiet, making sure not to make a scene even if she knew how uncomfortable you were. That failed, though, when she punched the man square in the jaw, knocking his head into the bar and making him fall out of his barstool. “Fucking asshole!” Was all you heard when your head snapped over to her. She hit him again when he spat something at her, blood mixed in with snarled words that made her ram her fist into his eye socket so hard that she broke skin. “She’s not fucking interested. Got that?! Fucking creep. I fucking better not see you around her again, you fucking—!”

“Ellie!” Thankfully, Joel got to her before she could do anything more than knock him out, grabbing Ellie as you got up and rushed over while Joel dragged her out of the bar.

“Did you hear what the fuck he said?!” Her gaze snapped to you when you opened the door and came out to meet them. Her angered expression, sewn together brows, flared nostrils, and sneered lips puffing harsh breaths of air, fell to concern immediately. “Did you?” You looked between them, frowning. “Did you hear what he said?”

“No, but are you—?“

“Good.” The sneer on her lip as she shook out her fist made you refrain from asking her what he said that caused her to react like that, taking her hand to look at her already bruising knuckles. “Should’ve fucking killed him. Fuck.”

“You want me to talk to Maria, El?” Joel asked, placing a hand on both your shoulders and squeezing. He knew how much you hated this, as it made you more anxious than anything, but he also knew Ellie was completely serious about killing the guy after hearing what he’d said, and he had no objection to it.

“Yeah,” she huffed out, a sick smile on her face. “Send him over to the fucking raiders.” She continued to curse under her breath despite being one-hundred-percent serious. “Joel, did you hear him?” She asked again, looking at him in search of reassurance for her reaction.

“Yeah…” He sighed, looking at you briefly before looking back to Ellie. “Yeah, babygirl, I heard him. I’ll see what I can do, alright?” He rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to get her to calm down, but it was no use.

“What a fucking pig,” she was still going on, clutching your hands in her bruising one.

Joel nodded toward the street, and you quickly got the memo. “Why don’t we get home, El?” You suggested, squeezing her hand to get her attention. She hummed, bringing the back of your hand to her mouth to kiss your knuckles.

You hadn’t tried to calm her down that time, not knowing what to say with the way she was still gripping your hands and staring at the ground.

Eventually, she spoke up. “I really tried not to make a scene,” she said. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, or scared you, or—“

“It’s fine, Els.”

“I’d explain, but I’d have to repeat what he said, and I don’t ever want to hear that shit again… Fucking disgusting.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Seriously. Sorry anyone would ever fucking say something like that… Fuck’s sake.”

You walked in silence for a while, gently stroking the back of her palm as she lifted her gaze from the ground to your hands cupping hers, which would probably be trembling if it weren't for you holding it.

“I’ve never seen you so serious about…” you spoke up after a moment, still not even knowing how to communicate with her like this. “You know, when you’re yelling at Jesse about patrol, it’s usually half joking, or something, but… You seriously looked like you were gonna kill him.”

“Should’ve.”

She was still gripping your hand when you got home, unlocking the door and holding it open for her.

As soon as she was in the safety of your home, her face started to turn red. She brought the heels of her palms to her eyes as she sucked in a harsh breath, cursing at herself for how upset she was getting.

“Should I get you tea or something?” She’d never been so angry that she started crying, and you didn’t know how to deal with that. You had half a mind to go get Joel again. “What do you need from me?”

She sighed, putting her hands down. Her face was still red, but she was refusing to let herself get worked up again. “Can we go to bed?” She asked quietly, gaining a quick nod from you. You held out your hand for her. She went to take it, but quickly stopped herself. “I need to wash my hands.”

“Okay…” You nodded, offering a reassuring smile. “I’ll set out some clothes for you, yeah?” She nodded, lips pursed. You leaned in, kissing her cheek and gaining a nearly unnoticable smile before you went your separate ways.

You changed into one of her shirts and underwear before you got into bed and waited. It must’ve been a half hour before she came back, looking much calmer than she did before. She changed into the shirt and boxers you set out for her, keeping quiet as she got into bed and lied behind you with her head resting on your shoulder.

“Feel better?” You asked. She only hummed, bringing her hand to your hip and running it up your waist. “El, what did he—?“

“I love you,” she said quietly, shaking her head and kissing your shoulder. “I’d do fucking… anything for you. You know that?” Her hand slipped beneath your shirt, running over your stomach and making you understand that she'd never repeat those words. Even if they were still running through her mind. “I won’t let anyone touch you. Fucking ever.” Her touch was soft despite her words, tone uninviting for argument. “If anyone ever lays a hand on you, you tell me. I’ll fucking kill them—“

“Ellie,” you warned, turning toward her and lying on your back.

You tried to be stern in an attempt to help ground her, as that was the only thing that would make her relax, but her words were earnest, coming out far too easily.

She shook her head, and when you looked up at her, you could tell that she was completely calm. She'd already decided that she should've killed that man, and you had half a mind to think she was so upset earlier because she didn't get to.

“If anyone even looks at you wrong…” She muttered as she hovered over you, forearms resting on either side of your head to hold herself up as her fingers ran softly over your hair. “If that’s really how people think, then I don’t care—“

“What did he say, El? Why did it get you so worked up?” Your hands went to her shoulders, gently rubbing her back to soothe her.

She shook her head, bringing her hand to your cheek and running the backs of her fingers down your skin. “Nothing you should have to hear…” She moved to straddle you, sitting back on your thighs as she lowered her head to your neck. “Just know…” She kissed you softly. “If I ever see him again…” Her kisses were loving, soft lips grazing your skin as she tucked her head in the crook of your neck. “He’s fucking dead.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #the last of us ellie #ellie x fem reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams ff #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams angst

2K notes · View notes

ghostkinnie · 1 year

Text

COD BOYS WHEN YOU DIE IN THEIR ARMS

pairing: ghost, soap, price, könig, alejandro and graves.

warnings: angst, mentions of death and blood, gender neutral y/n.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

- Simon was an empty shell for a long time until you came along and showed him what it was like to live again. You turned his life upside down and taught him what love was.

- But there you were now. Bleeding in his arms for a bullet coming from a sniper that he didn't find and didn't kill. He had failed.

- The only thing keeping Ghost sane and human was now dying in his arms and becoming cold as ice.

- And there was nothing he could do to save you. Once again he would lose everyone he loves because he was unable to protect. He had believed in happiness but it was taken from him again.

- " Please... Please Y/N don't leave me. Open your eyes. Please...Don't leave me alone...."

- But there was nothing else to do. You were dead and Simon went back to being a broken, empty shell. A ghost that would wander in solitude.

●●●

JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH

- You are Johnny's sunshine even though he is a contagious explosion. You were everything that made this man smile.

- You "were" as you now hung lifeless in his arms. He had arrived too late.

- And for not arriving sooner now he had the love of his life dead in a pool of blood. He would never forget. He would never forgive himself.

- He would brush your hair out of your face and stroke your cheek one last time as desperate sobs wriggled out of him.

- "Love? Please love answer me...! Y/N breathe.!"

- He would scream and just leave your side when Ghost or Price dragged him.

●●●

CAPTAIN JOHN "PRICE"

- Losing a soldier has always been difficult for Price. He is the captain and responsible for the lives of his men.

- But in the end he always had to move on.. but not this time. Not when the shot hit the only person he lived and died for; you.

- "Baby?! Call the fucking doctors now!...Little one I'm here now I've got you."

- But it didn't matter how quickly the doctors arrived or how much he called your name. There was a lot of blood and you were already choking on it.

- Price would beg you to resist but he knew. He knew you were gone and taken a part of him with you; his happiness.

●●●

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

- Alejandro is a romantic man and in the moment the two of you got into a relationship he knew you would take over his mind. There was only you for him.

- He would die for you and he always told you that. But what he didn't know is you who would do it throwing yourself in front of him to receive a stab.

- The knife would still be stuck in your belly when he grabbed you and looked at you in complete despair. He had never been so afraid.

- He would scream for doctors, carry you, kiss your bloodied hands and be by your side every final second.

- But being by your side wasn't enough to save you. And the scene of your last breaths would haunt him forever.

- ¿Mi amor? Por favor...Talk to me.."

●●●

KÖNIG

- You were the most precious thing in König's life. Everything that kept him stable and close to complete happiness. You were his life.

- And he was a boy so lost in love that he believed you two would be happily ever after. He really wanted this.

- But all of König's dreams of you were shattered when a gunshot rang out and a bloodstain formed on your chest.

- That was it. Nothing could be done. You were dying and König could just scream and hug your body so tightly it could break bones. He was so scared.

- Liebe? Mein Leben?...Bitte.. Wake up wake up wake up.. WAKE UP!"

- Panic fills his body and he knows that after that day he would be a broken man.

●●●

PHILLIP GRAVES

- Graves met you during missions of the 141. You were a bomb of energy and transformed his life into pure joy. He was lost in you.

- It happened during the betrayal. He intended to take you with him and keep you by his side no matter what.

- But one of his shadows ended up shooting you. And the only thing Graves could see was your body collapsing lifelessly to the floor. What was the point of living if the love of his life was dead?

- A scream of pure pain escaped his lips and he rushed to drag his body to safety. But it was no use. You were no longer breathing.

- I'm sorry! I'm sorry it's my fault! It's all my fault please...Please don't die!"

- But you were already dead and it was his fault.

2K notes · View notes

zombiekillerbiceps · 1 year

Text

Hide and Seek

Note: I saw Scream 6 last night and remembered I'm attracted to men who want to kill me, beware ye who enter here etc.

Contents: NSFW, 18+, 3k words, LeonxReader, knife kink, home invasion roleplay, cnc with enthusiastic consent, Dom!Leon, ambiguous era, masochist reader, very slight blood, bdsm, hair pulling, choking, rough sex, degradation, threats, crying, insults (bitch, slut, whore), glove kink, boot kink, primal kink (adjacent?), spoilers for Scream 2, no y/n.

-----

"Yeah okay, so basically she's the mom of one of the killers from the first film," you told him, grabbing another hand full of popcorn, "and what's really fun is their last name Loomis is a reference to the doctor in Halloween, anyways, their whole purpose as killers is to make a point about how people are violent by nature and not because of movies, and how people are more likely to kill because the media glorifies murderers."

"You really like these movies, huh?" Leon asked.

He was, admittedly, a little bit bored. Slasher flicks never did it for him. But what he had was an opportunity to cuddle up on the couch with you and watch you get passionate about something.

Passionate was definitely one way to describe it. The way your breath quickened during the chase scenes and the way your mouth hitched up into a smile whenever Ghostface caught a victim didn't go unnoticed by him. When Ghostface was taunting the victims over the phone, your eyelids got a little heavy, your face a little red.

"What's your favourite part about them?" He asked, watching for your reaction.

You take a long moment to ponder it. The way they act as a mirror to the cultural zeitgeist of the time, reflecting fears, values, and cinema of the era was up there. The kills were always legendary too, just really brutal. But if you were being honest with him?

"The chase," you admitted, your cheeks reddening just a bit.

You two finished out the movie, and because it was your turn for Movie Marathon Night, you put on Scream 3. Leon waited until the moment when Ghostface was stalking a victim through their home before leaning close to you.

"I could do that to you," he said, his voice a low roll.

Your breath hitched in your throat, surprised and immediately turned on at the rumble of his voice. You looked up at him.

"Yeah?"

"If you wanted me to."

You thought about it. Leon's heavy boots on the hardwood floor, his strength contested against yours, the glint of a blade against your throat...

"I definitely like the sound of that." You agreed, and then, sheepishly, "I like the knife too."

"I know," he said, and you burned in embarrassment.

It was a few weeks later that you were putting groceries away, the whole conversation (disappointingly) forgotten, when your phone rang.

Unknown Caller

Your eyebrows cinched together in confusion. Who could be calling you? You propped the fridge door open with your hip and answered the phone.

"Hello?" You ask, reaching over to the counter to grab the carton of eggs.

"Hello, sweetheart." The voice on the other end was deep, a little raspy.

"Leon?"

"Wouldn't you like to find out," Leon the Caller responded. "Do you want to play a game?"

"That's Jigsaw," you teased, excitement bubbling up in your stomach.

He didn't answer for a while. Long enough to make you double check the call wasn't dropped.

You pulled the phone back from your ear.

Still on. Full bars.

"Did I ruin the-"

"You didn't answer my question," he said, slowly, sharply.

You grin. "Okay, I'll play."

"Excellent. How about hide and seek?"

"What?"

"I'll give you ten seconds to find a place to hide, and then I'll come find you."

"Are you home right now?" You ask, straining your ears to hear anything in the house.

"Ten."

"What if I find you first?"

"Nine."

A prickle of fear slid up your back. His voice was sharp, serious. You'd never heard it like that before, and it made it so easy to believe that he wanted to hurt you.

You leave the kitchen, pace getting quicker as you scan for places to hide.

"Eight."

The coat closet was too small. The linen closet where you kept the board games too obvious.

"Seven."

Was he in the house? Do you lock the door to keep him out or does that just trap you?

"Six."

You start up the stairs at a creeping pace to keep quiet, thinking you could probably slip into the bathroom unnoticed if you were quiet enough. The stair creaked under your weight.

"Five. You'll have to be quicker than that, sweetheart." The taunting in his voice was unbearable. Smug, confident, and a fully loaded threat all at once.

A spurt of adrenaline. Your body is bolting up the stairs before you can think better of it.

"Come on," he groaned. "Too loud. You're making this too easy for me."

Your hands turn the bathroom knob and he chuckled over the phone.

"The bathroom? Really? A second-story dead end. You're smarter than this. Three."

"Shut up," you sputter out, pulling the door open defiantly.

He's standing there behind the opaque shower curtain. He tears it open, prying it off the bar entirely. He's wearing a tight black t-shirt and tactical cargo pants, tucked into military boots. You don't miss the knife holster on his shoulder, or the black gloves on his hands. His icy blue eyes meet yours and he feigns disappointment.

"Two," he says, over the phone and to your face. His voice is ice cold. He steps out of the shower slowly. Purposefully.

You expect the heavy boots to make some kind of noise, but he moves like a fucking ghost.

"One."

He drops the phone and charges.

You slam the door just before he meets it. His body slams into it and you feel the force shudder through the door and into you. You hear the doorframe crack. He didn't even have a lot of time to gain momentum, that was just his raw strength. Real adrenaline is floods your brain.

You turn tail and run faster than you've ever run before. The bathroom door swings open behind you. He's catching up with easy, effortless strides.

You make it to the bedroom and slam the door behind you. Your hands shaking as you go to turn the lock.

The doorknob moves under your hands. It won't lock if it's half turned. You struggle with it, fighting with both hands, your sweaty palms making it hard to get a grip.

You manage to wrestle it back just long enough to lock it.

Silence.

You back away from the door, your hands shaking. Your breath comes in quick, harsh breaths. Just when you start to relax, hard pounding at the door kicks you off again. Again. Again. Again again again again - he's going to break the fucking door down!

Silence.

You hear something metallic touch the doorknob. Something pops. It starts to turn.

You do the only think you can think of and dive underneath the bed.

The door swings open. You watch his boots, massive and impossibly fucking quiet cross the threshold.

"Sweetheaaart," he coos. "You don't think you can really hide from me, do you?"

You gently put your hand over your mouth and nose to muffle the sounds of your shaky, terrified breath.

You watch as he crosses over to your shared closet. He opens it. Then, with the unhurried confidence of someone who knows they'll get what they want eventually, he turns. One step, then another, he walks towards your hiding place.

His boots stop just shy of the bed. Just inches from your face. Impeccably polished, but undeniably beat up.

You hear the rustle of fabric. He tosses the blankets on to the ground, blocking your view.

This was bad.

You could just barely hear him cross over to the other side but, from the angle you were at under the bed, couldn't see it. For a painfully long moment, nothing happens. You debate bolting for the door.

A hand wraps around your ankle!

He begins to pull you out from under the bed, the leather of his gloves giving him grip against your bare skin.

"No!" You cry out, instinct taking over. You kick at him and he releases you.

You scurry out from under the bed, fighting against the blankets in your way. You hear him step up onto the bed as you come out from under it. You half- crawl, half- run towards your escape, looking back to see him jumping down, completely unbothered. Your legs are unsteady, everything in your body just trying to get away without really thinking about how.

You brace yourself against the door frame and use it to propel you forward.

His hands are on your shoulders, yanking you against him.

You struggle in vain, a massive arm wrapping around your waist. Your hands try to pry his grip off your hips but his gloved hands don't move. You try to find purchase on the ground but he lifts you until your toes can just barely touch.

He isn't even breathing hard, you realize.

This is easy for him.

"Let me go!" You are try to sound defiant but the high pitch of your voice betrays your fear.

"Let me go isn't our safe word," he says in your ear. You feel him relax against you a little, only just enough to hold you in place.

"Fuck you," you take advantage of his kindness and work your way out of his grasp. You dash for the stairs again but don't even make it a couple of steps before there's a sharp pain in your skull.

A gloved hand is gripping the hair at the base of your head. Electricity echoes through you. You whimper, body freezing up at the pain.

He's almost dragging you backwards. Your body hits another wall, hard enough to make your head spin.

Leon's hand is on your throat. His eyes are wild and dark, and you can tell by the way his gaze rakes over your body that he likes the chase just as much as you do.

His free hand reaches up to pull his knife from it's holster on his shoulder.

You forgot about that.

Your pulse roars in your ears, your body squirming against his grip on your neck. He tightens his grip. For a few seconds, everything becomes light and airy. Then he relaxes, and the oxygen floods back into your brain with a rush of endorphins.

"If you keep squirming like that, I'm going to really hurt you." Fuck, his voice so low and threatening... It genuinely scared you, and the fear just made him hotter.

Sharp, unforgiving features tower over you as he brings the knife point to your abdomen. He traces the hemline of your pants before tucking the curved blade under the hem of your shirt. He pressed in enough that the skin bends beneath the blade, threatening to slice open if you move.

"No," you whimper. "Please don't."

He pulls the knife away, eyes softening and meeting yours.

"No isn't our safe word," he says, but this time there is no mocking tone. His gaze is gentle, genuine, asking a question without asking it.

The fear settles in your brain as you meet his eyes. He would never hurt you if you didn't want him to, you trusted him with your life. The vulnerability is given willingly, as much as you act like it's being taken.

This makes you bold. You spit in his face, trying to turn your thrilled grin into a snarl and failing.

"Fuck. You."

Your spit runs down his cheek. His features harden. He looks like he could fucking kill you.

"You little bitch," he mutters through gritted teeth.

The knife is there against your skin again, a cold pinpoint threat. And then it's gliding up your body, tearing your shirt with it. He pushes the knife back into its holster and stares at you, exposed and cold.

Then he's wrestling you to the ground. You try to resist until your muscles ache with the effort. He does it easily anyways. If his combat training didn't tell him exactly how to manhandle you like a doll, he would still easily overpower you.

One hand pins you down by your back, while his other tears painfully at your denim shorts. You struggle against him, lifting your hips and "accidentally" making it easier for him to drag them off you.

"You're making it too easy for me," Leon taunts you. You try to get to your knees but he pushes you back down with a mocking tsk.

"Oh, look at this," he says. You feel the leather of his gloves pressed against your hole. He drags a finger down your slit, smearing the slick with ease. "Act like you don't want it, but this tells a different story."

Two fingers push into you. Hard. You're wet enough that it's easy for Leon to pump in and out of you, whimpers spilling from your lips. Usually, he would curl his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that made you white hot. But this time? Nothing. He pumps his fingers in and out of you almost intentionally avoiding making you feel good. He was just making a show of you. Playing with you like a toy. Taunting you with every wet push inside you.

Then his fingers are gone. He releases his hold on you to adjust his weight. You hear his zipper.

You wonder how far you can take this.

You drag yourself forward, actually managing to almost get to your knees this time. He lets out a noise of surprise before you feel two hands on your thigh, dragging your bare skin against the hardwood floor. You whimper in pain, and then he's on you again.

"Stop it. A bitch should know when she's been beat," his voice was heavy in your ear. He wrapped an arm around your neck, choking you and using your shoulders as leverage all at once.

You could feel his cock against your ass, so hard it must hurt. His free hand lines it up with your cunt, the tip just dipping into you. He groans with self restraint.

"Ready, sweetheart?"

"Please," you beg quietly, as if asking for it too loudly would break the scene.

He thrusts in one, smooth motion. His cock pushes into you, painfully stretching your cunt around him. His bicep flexes next to your face, using your body to pull himself deeper.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me." He buried his face into your shoulder, whimpering into the torn fabric of your t-shirt. "Such a little slut."

He sets the pace hard and fast at first. Your high builds quickly, legs shaking beneath him, biting into his arm hard enough to leave marks. The pain only makes him rougher with you, fucking into you hard and sharp.

"Such a fucking slut, you like when I take you like this?" You whimper a response, nodding against him. "Yeah you do. Fucking whore."

He adjust his position, fucking you faster. His breath is hard and heavy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, you take me so well. Fucking." His babbling became almost incoherent, a sting of curse words and praise and humiliation, but you didn't care. It was enough just hearing him talk to you, grunting words between thrusts and moans, pushing into you. Closer, closer.

"Fuck, you about to come for me baby?" He can feel you tighten around his cock. "Stop fighting it. Come on, come on me like the little bitch you are."

It's enough to send you over the edge, whimpering as you come so hard it almost fucking hurts. He rides it out with you, slowing but never stopping. You try to catch your breath.

"Fuck, Leon," you manage. "That was so good."

"Don't think I'm done with you yet," he mutters, driving his hips into you a little harder.

You cry out, body over stimulated, the adrenaline crash rendering you weak and shaky. He keeps a slow pace, but he pushes into you as deep as he can go, almost threatening to push through you.

"It's too much," you whine.

He laughs at you. Then you hear the knife unbuckle again. You're too exhausted to even pretend to fight back, the cold tip tracing your back.

It bites into your skin, sharp and painful. And then it drags up, the sensation like fire on you. It traces your ribs, up to your shoulders. You can feel a thin line of blood drawn from its tip in the round of your shoulder while Leon keeps fucking into you at that slow, tortuous pace. You're too sensitive, the pain too much. Tears start to collect in your eyes. Tension starts to build in your abdomen again.

Leon switches to the dull side but digs it in enough to make you whimper. He keeps fucking you slow, deep, coaxing you deeper and deeper with his sultry voice.

Your cunt starts to tighten around him again and even that hurts. You sniffle, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

Leon works the dull side of the knife against your throat and that alone is enough to almost drive you over the edge. His body hot and heavy on top of you, both of you sweating and moaning.

"You still with me, sweetheart?" He asks, his voice shaking slightly.

"Mhm. Are you?"

"Ohh yeah," he confirms. He ducks his head closer to the other side of your neck, and you work a hand up into his hair, holding him close. You surprise him by pulling his hair, some part of you hoping it will get a rise out of him, but it doesn't. The same slow, deep pace. Pain danced with pleasure, arousal and discomfort tightening in your stomach, threatening to overcome you.

"Cry all you want baby," he groans in your ear, "it's just going to make me fuck you harder."

It's a promise. His hips snap into you harder, dragging out another climax so hard you're left breathless.

He doesn't stop. He doesn't even let you catch your breath this time. He's stopped talking now, his breath hard and fast in your ear. You try to tell him it hurts but you can only stutter pathetically beneath him.

He pulled himself into you, threat of the knife ever present against your throat. Your body felt like it was on fire.

"I can't, I can't, Leon-" you manage to plead, your body working up to another orgasm.

"I didn't fucking ask if you could," he groans in your ear.

That sends you over the edge again, crying out as your cunt clamped down around his cock. Your body shakes uncontrollably, tears fall down your cheeks as your breath comes in moaning sobs.

You can feel his cock spasm inside you, spreading you more with each pulse. His cum is so hot it feels like it could burn you, his hips fucking it deeper into you as he rides through his high. Eventually, he slows to a stop.

You lay there like that on your hallway floor for a moment, before Leon released the knife with a clatter and rolls off of you.

Still shaking, you curl up to him He wraps his arms around you and you feel undeniably safe. Of course you do, you couldn't do all that with just anyone.

"Got a little carried away there," he admitted with a soft laugh.

"Yeah, I think you liked it more than I did," you joked back with a shaking voice.

He peppers the top of your head with gentle kisses.

"Are you still doing okay?" He asks. You nod against him.

"Sore. Overwhelmed."

"Let's get you into a bath, then how about we watch some TV together?"

"Yeah," you agree, kissing him. "That sounds good."

#Leon Kennedy fanfic #Leon Kennedy Smut #Dom!Leon #re2r fanfic #re4r fanfic #re6 fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #rer2 smut #re4r smut #re6r smut #If you liked this consider leaving a comment or reblogging! :)

1K notes · View notes

walpu · 13 days

Note

walp walp hear me out

remember that trailblazer scene with firefly and how she just just gets stabby stabbed by the creature (memory zone meme i think)

and + Aventurine having access to the 'real' dreamscape, combine that with bodyguard! reader who will go through hell and back to make sure Aventurine will. Live.

reader follows aven during the entirety of the Penacony quest, including when Black Swan teleports the both of them to the real memory zone. (also, does anyone else feel like bodyguard! reader and Trailblazer would be besties... no, just me?)

now, keep in mind, Aven and reader have a... complicated bond. IPC workers here and there say their dating, the Trailblazer has straightup asked if they would just get a room (you get their vibe, you can go along with the secret assassin! bodyguard! reader req i sent in)

a little bit more insight on their dynamic (again, going with the assassin reader thing, its already known between the two atp, so this can be set after that period), Aven wants to love reader, wants to hold them close, and wants their affection, but dammit, he just cant bring himself to. Not when he's sure he'll just hurt everyone that comes close to him (his sister, cough cough)

and reader has the same mindset, they love Aven, as a boss, as that annoying but endearing friend, and perhaps as more. But they have blood, the lives of people that they've unlawfully taken, not to mention, they are 100% sure Aven would never love a person who killed just for monetary income.

now, here's where the real show starts. There's also another assassin (seriously, Duke Inferno should save his manpower) following reader and Aven. Safe to say, only one is making it out alive. How the assassin followed the two of them? No fucking clue, but somehow it does.

After i assume beating the living shit out of hordes of memory zone monsters, the assassin appears, and just when Aventurine's unsuspecting?? Boom, goes in for the kill.

Yeah, too bad. Aven's not dying. But reader is! Yeah, in a act of (cliche) protection, reader allowed themselves to be the one to suffer from the attack. (Bonus if they get decapitated, or just stabbed like how Trailblazer was by Cocolia). Aven will never forget the way that he just- watched reader's body fall, the light just gone from their eyes.

Anyways, he doesn't even get to hold their body. You just- poof into bubbles like Firefly did. The last thing he has left of his beloved bodyguard? Just a simple red earring, matching the one he wore. Nothing left.

Okay, im also going to cope here that the whole shitshow with Aven and Acheron did not happen, he returns to the room that reader had, and he just... stands there. He takes in the way that half of the room was messy, half of it was untouched. So much like them, unpredictable and just had a touch of the weirdness he loved so damn much.

(Bonus if you want a happy scenario, reader's alive and well, afterall, dying in the dreamscape doesn't kill anyone. Reader is probably smiling very awkwardly while they stare at a teary eyed Aventurine, then they make out /hj)

yay another rant, i had this idea for days, the decapitation part may or may not have been plaguing me (should i be concerned), anyways, thanks for listening to my word vomit, stay safe and stay healthy <33

feel like falling on my knees and begging to forgive me for taking so long this spring doesn't let me breath istg. I've got this request before 2.1 and only got to it now that's why Aven is ghosting me.

bodyguard!reader "dying" in the dreamscape to protect Aventurine

sort of a sequel to this but can be read as a separate work as well, the main thing you need to know is that reader was originally an assassin sent by Duke Inferno but they've changed their mind and stayed by Aven's side

notes - gn!reader, angst, unestablished relationship, no beta

You both knew the trip to Penacony would be difficult. You, in particular, knew that something big and very sinister is coming, judging by the way Aventurine danced around the subject, not giving you full information.

You may not know all the details of Aventurine's plan but you know him well enough to realize that he's planning on doing something extremely reckless and dangerous.

So you do your best to protect him. To shiels him from any possible danger, to keep him within your reach.

Of course Aventirune notices. How can he not notice when he already keeps his eye on you most of the time anyway. And just as you're trying to look out for him, he wants to looks out for you.

This mission already could be considered suicidal and he doesn't want you to be caught in this. Better to keep you in the dark, away from it.

Yet he can't help but selfishly enjoy your attention, your tenderness. You go out of your ways to make sure he's fine and he feels so undeserving of it. How can you be so kind when he's keeping so much from you?

You've seen him at his worst and you've stayed. You've proven so many times that you care for him not because it's just your job, not because of his money or status but because it's him.

He still struggles to believe in it sometimes. When he feels doubtful , he rubs his cheek against your shoulder in a playful cat-like manner and watches your reaction. Amusement you're trying to hide. Adoration you can't hide.

How can he doubt you? You're the one who should be doubting him.

He wants to melt into you, to be even closer than the two of you already are, but how can he love you without putting you in danger? Without draining your luck, without cursing you?

Sometimes he sees the same struggles in your eyes. When you carefully trace his face with the tips of your gloved fingers, your gaze sometimes lowers and you pull your hand away, as if you're ashamed.

But of what, of what? The blood on your hands? He has it too!

He wants to tell you this, to hold you tight, to never ever let go. The wish is so primal that everyone else can see. The memokeeper giving him a knowing smile as soon as she sees you two together, the masked fool taunting him about the only one willing to listen to him being his loyal dog ("though, judging by the way you look at them, little peacock, you're the one on the leash here~" she says. It feels like even a lower blow than the comments about his past. At least he expected those, but being taunted about his obvious feelings for is new), mx. Stellaron asking you two to get a room with a deadpun expression.

The worst one is the doctor though. Asking Aventurine to focus on the mission, then, in a softer tone, suggesting to tell you more about the plan. "It's foolish to keep it from your most trusted person, gambler. In the end, it may hurt them even more than your obsessive concerns".

If Ratio of all people gives you relationship advice you're doing soooo bad.

Yet Aventurine can't bring himself to listen to his words. He wants you safe and well, and he's sure (he's not sure) he's doing the right thing.

And yet he's wrong. He can't shield you, he can't. One of the richest people in the IPC, one of the Ten Stonehearts, the blessed one, yet he can't protect the one he loves no matter how much he tries. He's cursed, doomed, isn't he?

Damned Duke Inferno. He's dead, annihilated, and yet, somehow, one of his wretched dogs, his sneaky little assassin, finds you two in the depths of the memory zone. Such dedication to the cause!

There are two gunshots. Inferno's little rat and you strike at the same time. Them, aiming at Aventurine, and you, aiming at them. Only one bullet reaches it's target though.

It all happens so fast. You react immediately, covering Aventurine with your body. You move instinctively at the same second you shoot.

When their bullet hits you, you don't even feel it. Maybe because it's still a dreamland? The pain just won't come even though your back feels like it's on fire. You don't understand it yet but your body already starts disappearing.

All you can focus on is Aventurine's wide shocked eyes. His beautiful, beautiful eyes.

You smile weakly at him. That's all he can see before you're gone. He doesn't even have time to reach out to you, to hold you. As if he ever had the privilege of holding his loved ones in their final moments.

You just poof into the blue bubbles.

He rushes into the real world, in your room, praying to any deity that may here for you to be alive and well. It was a dream, not a real world. You can't die in a dream, not really. You weren't even killed by the memory zone meme, surely you're fine!

Yet you're not. You're not here, not anywhere in the hotel. You're truly gone.

He feels everything and nothing at the same time.

Of course, of course, of course he wasn't able to protect you!

How lucky he is, he has avoided death once again! His beloved died to protect him but he has survived! He's so blessed, truly, so blessed!

He finds himself on his knees, on the verge of hysterical laughter. The only thing you left behind is a small red earring he has gifted. And he clatches it so tightly his hand bleeds. Perhaps the pain is the only thing keeping him sane at this moment.

It feels like a cruel joke. It doesn't feel real, it shouldn't be real.

Wait... That's it! It isn't real. It's impossible to die in a dream! It was his theory all along, after all. It must be true. You just can't be dead, you can't, not you too.

His plan hasn't changed, he tells Ratio when he comes to check on Aventurine. He just needs to reach the real Penacony. To reach it and to find you there. You're strong and brave and so wonderful. You're out there somewhere, he just needs to help you to get back to the real world.

He holds into that idea like a madman. It doesn't matter how dangerous it is. It never did, to be honest. But now it's like he can't focus on anything else.

He hasn't feel so despaired in years. He just needs to find you, everything else is meaningless.

So when it's time for the final act, he gets on stage, fears not and doesn't look back.

He still holds his hand behind his back though. Clutching your earrings for dear life.

#i forgot if the bodies of those who died in the memory zone disappear #if not let's pretend the hounds took it for investigation #hsr #aventurine #reader insert #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #walp's writing #no beta we die like sunday

212 notes · View notes