#Erik Heller x reader

[violetmuses]

Memories - Erik Heller

TITLE: “Memories” || Erik Heller 

FANDOM: “Hanna” (Amazon Prime Series)

CHARACTER: Erik Heller 

PAIRING: Erik Heller + Female Reader 

WARNINGS: Dark themes, violence, injuries, etc. 

MAIN STORYLINE: No matter what, you always come back… 

Author’s Note: Hi! Happy reading. This project is dedicated to @bewitchedignition. Thanks so much for helping with my writer’s block. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. 

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96  @skvatnavle @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @hodgepodge-of-rog @ijustthinkrickflagisprettyneat @11thstreetvigilante @lacontroller1991

Main Masterlist 💜

__________

Something rattles your exhausted form out of sleep around two in the morning. You could barely settle into bed at first, forever wired because of another long emergency room shift. 

Even then, you still turn on that bedroom lamp and palm one nearby firearm in the name of protection. Anyone could’ve found you now, no matter how much time has passed. 

Silent. The living room is silent as you move closer to that front door. Your heart pounds over and over, just waiting to defend yourself. Outside of well-measured security at the hospital, you’re alone. Always have been. 

“Who’s there?” You shouted, trying to level your own voice once more.

The only response to come back now is a groan. Pained and nothing short of agonizing. You’ve heard that nightmare countless times. 

Without hesitation, you then unload the firearm and settle that weapon right out of view. Your own self-defense could scare away this person. 

When you turn that knob, one tall yet bloodied man has placed his clothed back right up onto the door frame. 

Bullet holes. Too many. Blood has already soaked the floor. And yet, this man is barely alive, wincing through labored breaths as one palm settled against his abdomen. 

Before you can even open your mouth to somehow greet him, he speaks first. 

“Someone else removed the punctured bullets. I need a place to rest.” The room is too dim to fully comprehend his face, but you’d still recognize his German accent anywhere. 

“Erik?” You whisper and kneel, slightly closing space between the two of you. This close proximity of this space allows you to view him now.

Cut yet wild blondish hair. Fatigued hazel eyes. Scars run down his face. 

“Shower, I… don’t care for the injuries yet. Please?” He hasn’t understood your presence yet or realized where he is. 

You nod frantically, noticing through the hallway shadows that a bag is slumped nearby. 

“I have the bag. Let me help you up.” Erik manages to reach out and show his palm and you grab his hand in return. No one else here to help you. No gurneys either. 

Now, as weight from the floor helps you pull him up, you can’t escape another scream that rips from his voice. Even his footsteps tremble, as if he’s quietly afraid of bloodying you as well. 

“I’m sorry, Kleeblat.” Erik struggles, uttering another flashback towards you. Those peacekeeping days drifting back into your thoughts. 

“I’ve seen much worse. It’s a miracle that you're even alive.” You say. It’s no secret that anyone else would’ve died from whatever barrage happened earlier. 

“Thank you.” His German accent moves near you again as he somehow limps towards the bathroom door. 

“Are you sure I can’t patch you up first?” You narrow both eyes, still trying to watch for him. 

“No. After.” His words don’t calm any nerves, but you just can’t fight again. 

_______

You’ve settled both food and a medical kit onto the living room’s coffee table rather than bringing everything to the kitchen. 

Despite a few hisses and groans, Erik doesn’t fuss as you work to replace his stitches or bandages. 

“I’m sorry for not warning you.” His voice continues struggling. 

“You had no other choice.” You whisper back. 

“Are you safe here?” Erik then asked while sitting up against the couch’s backend pillows. 

“Yes.” You answer genuinely. 

“Good.” Erik said once more. 

“What do you want to do in the morning?” You ask. 

“I will leave you in peace.” Erik answered without even smiling. He’s still tired and there’s no reason to smile. 

“I’m done changing these stitches.” You affirm. 

“Thank you.” Erik says, facing you despite his pain. 

_____

By morning though, Erik is still around. You’ve changed his stitches and bandages again after sharing breakfast. 

“There’s a train station nearby.” You whisper to Erik later.

“Thank you.” Erik nods towards you.

“You’re welcome.” You continue. 

You then work together and pack his overnight bag in silence, but Erik is standing near the open door frame again. 

“Goodbye, Kleeblat.” That large overnight bag is settled by his own footsteps, but he still can’t move, or maybe doesn’t want to walk away yet. 

“Goodbye.” You respond back. 

Now, he truly remembers. He remembers everything. 

Drifting all around. Stealing cars to hide. Training Hanna. 

You. 

No need to bring up the past. At least you’re still safe. 

Without saying anything else, Erik braces himself to pick up the overnight bag and finally walks away from you. 

Your heart drops once more. 

[heresathreebee]

My love and my life, hi Kitty! 🥰 I also miss Erik RIP 🤧

A Southward Breeze

On the first of each month, each member of the GFS will write a Drabble of 1k words or less based on a selected prompt and using a character played by Joel Kinnaman.

May 2022's Prompt Is: "The problem is,” he said as he leaned in, “if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

Fifteen years ago, Erik Heller had almost kissed you. It was a mindless thought– an impulsive urge that sprung upon him as he held your face gently in his hands. He could not recall what he had even been excited about– the only thing that lingered was the thought of the color of your eyes and how close your mouth was to his own. He remembered dashing it away and feeling tingly for the rest of that mission. And then he never saw you again. 

You and Erik used to cross paths often, almost as if you were bound to one another pulled together again and again by an invisible thread. He was not entirely oblivious to the warmth of your feelings towards him (perhaps to the depth, though). You hardly spoke a word and yet you managed to convey to this sovereign, efficient assassin that you would protect him, support him, mourn for him if it ever came to that. Yours affection for one another was a rarity in your line of work. 

And then… nothing. For fifteen years. 

It was not beyond Erik's ability to seek you out, to find you in some hidden place anywhere around the world (he was in fact quite confident in his tracking ability even when it came to you). He simply… did not. 

And it baffled even him, how he could simply dismiss the long-standing companionship that had grown between the two of you. But sometimes life takes you in vastly different directions and pulls apart the strongest of bonds. Did you think of him still? A part of him feels ashamed for having not thought of you in years. He had missed you though, sometimes more than he was willing to admit to himself.

There came a day one sunny afternoon in Paris when he stood out from the balcony of his temporary lodgings and surveyed the scenery. The bustling streets, the scent of gasoline and fresh cooked food wafting in the air. He spotted a flashing gold and looked to his left to find a figure a few apartments away, also basking in the picture perfect weather of today. He could not make out her face, but a sense of longing settle deep into his bones as the shape of the person reminded him of you. 

Before he even realizes it, Erik is trotting down the steps to his lodgings and barrelling through the streets. The crowd is so thick it's like pushing through an ocean wave, but he pressed on through the masses with French apologies on his lips and brusque focus. Finally he reaches the sidewalk of your– he doesn't know if it is really you– the stranger's apartments. He climbs the stairs taking them two by two in his haste and wondering if he had finally lost any sense he had previously. Was he simply going mad? 

He counted the doors inward and found the door that had to belong to the correct balcony. It is here that he pauses, drawing in breaths and winded from his short sprint. Not another thought passed through his head as he reached for the knocker and made it clang, the noise seemed almost explosive in the reumy quiet of the hallway. 

What would he say or do? It might not even be… and if it was actually you? What will he say or do? 

"Who is it?," came a voice that lilted like a song. He thought he would never hear that beautiful voice again. He was unable to speak his own name, so overwhelmed with the concept that perhaps you did not wish to see him. 

The door fairly flew open and there you stood– a wayside gun in your other hand and a look of pure shock on your face. "Erik?!" 

You must have checked the peephole when he didn't answer and recognized his face. It was you. A loose robe hung from your shoulder with a metallic gold pattern that gave the illusion of being inlaid with sapphires and emeralds. Your freed hair and your comfy slippers made you a picture of domesticity– a quality of life that neither of you had thought possible in your line of work. 

"Ich kann es nicht glauben…" Erik exclaimed in disbelief, "it really is you." 

Head empty of all thoughts, Erik stepped towards you. Instantly he is wrapped in your scent– kitchen herbs and spices cling to you over your favorite perfume and Erik's jacket falls to the floor swiftly. He slides his hands to cup your cheeks delicately, as if he is afraid you will disapparate before him. He enters your home towering over you and looking like a treasure hunter who found gold. 

"Mein Schatz," he gently shushed you as water filled your wide eyes. "I have missed you…so so much." 

With the weight of how he felt now, Erik suddenly balked at how he had ever gone a day without thought of you. Feeling the warmth of your skin in his hands thrust upon him a deep, guttural ache as if a hole he had always known in his heart was suddenly overflowing. He could see something similar fluttering in your own expression. One of your hands gripped his wrist so hard it hurt. 

Finally a tear escaped and tracked shimmering down your cheek. "Erik… you're here. You're alive."  

And I will never leave again, he thought, if you'll have me. 

"I thought I would never see you again," you confessed. 

Erik's drew his face closer to yours until your noses brushed together just as they had all those years ago. There were streaks of silver in your hair now and lines on your face that weren't there before. He wants to see your whole head turn white as you grow old together… 

"Are you going to kiss me, Erik?," you ask with an air of teasing hopefulness. 

"The problem is,” he said as he leaned in, “if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

He can feel the sigh you realize– it breezes over his chin and your chest shudders against his own. "I don't think I want you to ever stop." 

At this, he smiles. When his lips press against yours, the kiss is hard and long, filled with the weight of an everlasting love you never thought would come to light. And for the rest of your days, that is how every kiss from Erik felt– exactly like the first time in a long time. 

The End

Tags: @yespolkadotkitty @lacontroller1991  @a-reader-and-a-writer   @edwardbaldwin @loverhymeswith @madkovacs @maddu-oliveira @babblydrabbly @klmurr @fairchildflag i think thats everybody?

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Joel Kinnaman Character Masterlist

Main Masterlist

This is a collection of my all of my fics written as pairings for Joel Kinnaman’s characters. All NSFW fics are marked as SMUT!

***all unfinished series/ fics are on hiatus***

Original Character Fics

Ruby Moon Sunflower Seeds (unfinished series) | Teaser One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Face Cast

Rick Flag X OC Kaia Castle. He’s a soldier, she has superpowers, and there’s something there between them. More than he knows: until one day he’s fucking around with a new job and alien tech and discovers that she had his baby... and his girls in danger.

Reader Insert Fics

Detective Stephen Holder from The Killing (tv show 2011-2014)

Royal Flush | 3k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | you play strip poker with your buddy Stephen

Can’t Stay Mad At You | 3.3k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | your boyfriend Stephen is late because of work (again) and he tries his best to make it up to you

Just Ask | 5.3k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | your boyfriend Stephen thinks pussy eating is fake and you show him how wrong he is

Every Little Step (unfinished series) | [on old Masterlist]

Stephen Holder X Mom! POC! Reader. Stephen meets you, a fellow detective at Seattle Police Department and recovering alcoholic. He falls for you and your adorable daughter instantly.

Colonel Rick Flag from DCEU Suicide Squad (2019)/ The Suicide Squad (2020)

French Lace And Silk Stockings | 2k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | 1950′s AU where you try on some lingerie your husband Rick bought you

Safe Harbor | 6.5k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | Rick can’t seem to depressurize from the horrors of the latest mission but you can help with that

Silver Ghosts | Drabble Challenge: less than 1k word limit | Written for the March 2022 GFS Drabble Project

Tamagotchi | Drabble Challenge: less than 1k word limit | Written for the April 2022 GFS Drabble Project

Think You Can Handle That Much? | 1.4k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | My one and only fic request! You (can be read also as OC Kaia Castle) are freaking out about the wedding and your fiance Rick knows just how to calm you

Twelve of Thirty-One Kinktober 2021 Prompts | *word count is tagged at the beginning of every fic* 🔥SMUT🔥 | Prompts completed for Rick are as follows numerically: 5-10, 15-17, 20, 23, & 25. More info in Kinktober 2021 Masterlist (linked above)

Takeshi Kovacs (Ryker Sleeve) from Altered Carbon

Rose Venemum | 4.3k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | You ask Tak to help you with a mission and discover a new kink or two

Two of Thirty-One Kinktober 2021 Prompts | 1.5k + 2k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | Prompts completed with Takeshi Kovacs were “Day Fourteen: Temperature Play/ Bath Shower Sex” and “Day Nineteen: Impact Play”

Erik Heller from Hanna (tv show 2019-2021)

A Southward Breeze | Drabble mode: less than 1k word limit | Written for the May 2022 GFS Drabble Project

\\Return to Main Masterlist for more fics by yours truly//

[babblydrabbly]

You'll Understand When You Come My Way || A Valentine's Day Oneshot

F!Reader x Stephen Holder x Erik Heller x Rick Flag x Takeshi Kovacs

5.8k+ words

a/n - Happy Valentines Day, lovelies! This is obviously ridiculous and indulgent, so let's not think too hard about how they all ended up in the same universe. Inspired by that scene from Sense8 and the song Demons by Fatboy Slim. Enjoy!

warnings: poly!ship fic. smut. m/f. m/m. m/m/f/m/m lmao ok alright. reader's got two hands and three holes ykwim. language. food mention. smoking. drinking. fingering. kissing. oral. rimming. squirting. handjobs. penetrative sex. anal sex. dp. cum. creampie. we got it all bby, its v-day!

I do not give permission for my work to be translated or reposted.

Gifs: x x x x

Not all of them get along. In fact, tonight's truce is a bit of a miracle. But you've had a long day at work, and the boys want to make sure their gracious host still has a nice, pleasant Valentine's.

You lie back in Stephen’s passenger seat as he drives you both home. It’s been a long day. While your partner was out following a possible lead, you wound up staying at the precinct with a difficult witness. And after a small fight broke out in holding just as you were about done for the day, you’re ready to just take off your shoes and uncork whatever you can find in the kitchen cabinets.

Stephen’s in a strangely good mood the whole drive home, though. He bangs his thumbs on the steering wheel to the music playing on his vastly out-dated stereo.

“Ay, d’you even remember what day it is, girl?” He says, elbowing you. He reaches over and turns up the volume as a sensual R&B song fills up the car. “Do I need to put you in the mood?”

You snort, turning your head to him. He makes a valiant attempt at grinding seductively to the music in his seat and shoots you a smirk.

You had almost forgotten. The police station isn’t exactly big on decorations. The thought occurs to you that it's Valentine’s Day exactly once, when you slipped out of your office to buy some lunch and noticed someone selling flowers on the street outside today. You checked your phone calendar, shocked at how much of February had gotten away from you.

“The mood for what exactly?” You eventually ponder out loud. Stephen pulls into your driveway slowly and puts the car in park.

No one at work yet knows your living arrangements with Stephen Holder. Ever since he insisted on moving in to help you keep an eye on your guests, the two of you had grown to be so much more than partners. It was a tension that had always been there between the two of you. But after encountering Rick, Takeshi, and Erik, Stephen couldn’t keep his attraction silent anymore. Not with the way the others so obviously vied for you over these past few months.

Still, there were things you simply didn’t hold any expectations over. Romantic holidays for one thing. You and Stephen were both busy people with the same job. And considering you hadn’t remembered, you certainly had no intention of expecting Stephen Holder to.

Stephen leans over the center console and meets your lips with a kiss. You hum gratefully and grasp at his jaw as you move your mouth against his.

“You’ll see.” He muses after a moment. His eyes linger on your mouth. “But lemme keep you to myself for a second. ‘Fore you go inside ‘n see everyone.”

You chuckle curiously against a fresh onslaught of kisses. “They’re all home?”

The detective doesn’t elaborate. Instead, you feel his long fingers glide over the fabric on your thigh and slip between your legs.

You close your eyes as Stephen teases your center over your layers of clothes. You thread your own hand through his hair where it grows longer at his scalp, giving him an encouraging tug. You can tell from the way he delivers you a muffled groan he’d like to do a lot more than that.

You reach down and unbutton your pants for him. You guide his hand toward the zipper, and Stephen pulls his face away, shaking it into the crook of your neck. “Hold up- you need to get that sexy ass inside.” He mumbles, nuzzling your neck.

You pin his face there and earn yourself a hot, wet kiss just over your pulse. You whimper teasingly. “You don’t want to stay here awhile?”

There’s little Stephen can resist when it comes to you. You arch your back when his fingers slip past your waistband and make contact with your pussy. Stephen makes another wanton sound as he’s met with your folds already so warm and slick.

“Goddamn, mama.” He murmurs against your collar. He laves at your skin while you chase his firm touch with your hips. Stephen lets you grind on his palm. He slips his middle fingers inside your entrance, curling them as your clit seeks desperate friction. You were nodding off on your way home, and now you’re drawing Stephen’s face back up to yours, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss.

“A’ight, a’ight. You’re goin’ inside.” He grins as he pulls away. You’re incredulous when he slips his hand out from between your legs and plants one last firm kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Stephen!” You practically whine.

“C’mon.” He laughs. He quickly removes the keys and steps out.

Begrudgingly, you button yourself back up, still a little stunned that he was passing up the opportunity to have some fun in the car. Especially when he was just talking about trying to ‘put you in the mood’. You glance up in the rearview mirror as you gather your bag and your coat, trying to see what he was rummaging through in the trunk.

He shuts it as you step out. You arch a suspicious brow at him.

“What on earth are you doing?” You say, making your way toward him. Stephen stops you with his hands on your hips, his mischievous grin unmistakable.

“Yo I gotta bring some stuff inside. You go in first, yeah?”

You find yourself being spun around as a playful slap on your ass sends you on your way.

You enter your house through the garage. Immediately, you’re hit by the scent of something wonderful cooking. You stop to sigh at the warmth of your normally barren kitchen. Before you shared your home with anyone, it hardly saw any use.

Erik Heller stands at the island, chopping up leafy greens with deft hands. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders in a nice knitted sweater pushed up to his elbows, noting how well dressed he looks this evening, even for him. He pauses from the cutting board to take a sip of red wine and notices you standing in the doorway. He gives you that quaint smile that still dazzles you somehow.

“Welcome home.” He says softly. You smile back and set your things down, wandering over to the stove top. You inhale deeply over the saucepan bubbling with something bright red and delicious looking.

Erik joins you. Before you can ask about his day, he comes up from behind you closely and stirs into the pot with a wooden spoon. He takes your hip in his other hand and sways you while he continues cooking. You huff.

“Let me guess, you’re not going to explain anything about all of this either.”

Erik leans over your shoulder and takes a sip of sauce before offering the spoon to you.

“I’m told you’re an exceptional detective.” He smiles as you taste a bit for yourself. You give an appreciative sound when the rich combination of basil and tomatoes touch your tongue. Erik gives your hip a squeeze. “Surely you’ve figured it out by now.”

Slipping out of his grasp, you eye him as you wander over to the other dishes already prepared. You swipe your finger through a bowl of another sauce that looks warm and creamy, with slices of mushroom floating along the surface. Erik tuts at you as you steal a taste.

You smile. “I don’t know if I like all of you conspiring against me yet.”

Erik wipes his hands on a towel by the stove before planting himself in front of you. He nudges you against the counter, his eyes dropping to the finger that lingers, caught between your teeth. He reaches up, pulling it from your mouth, and your lips fall open as you watch Erik slip the digit past his own. His eyes fall shut as he hums, tasting you.

You swallow. You feel the wet warmth of his tongue slide along the pad of your finger.

Then, the gentle suction as he bobs his head ever so faintly down, til his lips brush your knuckles. The action is so soft, yet so electric, sending a jolt of desire down to your core. You watch him, hypnotized, until he opens his eyes again and pulls his lips off your finger with a delicate pop.

You always marvel at Erik Heller’s intense gaze. He often pinned you with silent looks across the room, while the others argued or bickered. His intimacy was unique- theirs all were. You loved the thrill of his quiet longing for you, though.

Erik’s lips find your knuckles again, this time with a simple kiss. He trails them around until he feels the fluttering pulse at your wrist.

You lean back on the counter as Erik presses his body into yours, then suddenly a mouth is on your neck again, shutting down any further inquiries still on your mind. You splay your fingers on his chest as he arches you back and your breath quickens. The thigh between your legs brushes against your aching center, eliciting a moan from you. You lift a knee, but it’s not enough friction.

You groan when Erik pulls away from you with a knowing smile.

You soon find yourself with a fresh wine glass in your hand. He pours you a generous amount of red. “I’m almost done with dinner. Why don’t you go sit and relax for a while.” He suggests.

You grumble as you’re politely shooed away with your glass in hand. Still, you take a sip, toeing your shoes off in the hall.

When you round the corner, you halt with another incredulous huff.

A flush creeps up your face as Rick Flag and Takeshi Kovacs turn to you from their respective spots on the sofa.

They definitely heard you in the kitchen with Erik.

“That smooth bastard.” Rick chuckles into his glass. The last of the amber liquid disappears past his lips in one swallow.

Takeshi sports a matching tumbler, though his sits emptied on the coffee table. You pointedly ignore the cigarette butt snuffed out at the bottom of the glass. How many times have you told all four of them about not smoking inside the house?

“Wonder what you two could possibly be talking about.” You say with an unimpressed glare. Takeshi’s smirk is smug, as always.

“She’s embarrassed.” He tells Rick, as if you’re not standing there. “She doesn’t want to sit down with us.”

Rick offers a hand to you, a little more sympathetic. “Come over here, darlin’.”

Your feet move toward them, but instead of sitting in between you like Rick wants, you take a seat on the armchair across from them. Still, Rick’s sly little smile is just as devious as the envoy’s.

But to their credit, they ask you about your day. You tell them about the miniature riot that broke out between all the men in the holding cell, and you raise your sleeve to show them both the purpling bruise on your forearm. Rick grins when you tell him how you clocked the asshole who gave it to you just before he tried helping himself to a handful of your ass in the middle of the fight.

“Should have broken his arm.” Takeshi muses. You didn’t have trouble imagining the damage he could have done if he had been there.

Eventually, you sit back with a sigh.

The sun is setting outside now, and you tell them you’d rather put all of that behind you for the night.

You ask them both what they’d like to watch as you reached for the remote, even though you know Rick and Takeshi rarely ever had a preference when it came to the television. It was usually you or Stephen who decided what to put on.

Rick turns to Takeshi with an arch of his brow. “The lady wants to watch somethin’.” He says. A knowing glance passes between the two men.

You cross your arms defensively, remote in hand. Again with the pretending you weren’t there! You expected it from teasing, smug Takeshi- but not the colonel.

You have half a mind to get up and simply go find Erik or Stephen, when the spark of something flashes between the two men. As if challenging one another, it’s Takeshi who makes the first move.

Your mouth falls open when he reaches out and pulls Rick into a sudden kiss by the collar of his shirt. Rick meets him with a muted grunt.

You sit, frozen, watching the two of them as they explore each other’s mouths heatedly. Rick and Takeshi are similar in so many ways, and you can tell even from the armchair, that their personalities are bumping as they fight each other for dominance.

Rick takes the envoy’s face in both his strong hands, forcing him to part his lips for Rick’s tongue. But it’s Takeshi who slips a hand between the other man’s thighs, eliciting a surprised moan from him. Rick jerks back in warning, nearly parting the kiss. But you watch as another stroke coaxes him to roll his hips with hesitation, a deep sound leaving him willingly this time.

Your wine glass sits on the coffee table, forgotten now. You squeeze your thighs together as you stare, helplessly unable to look away. That burning ache returns as you watch the two of them kiss for you. It rises to your cheeks again when Takeshi’s eyes slip open, shifting over to you with a burning gaze as he continues to swallow Rick’s tongue. You can’t help but to reach down. To run your hand up your thigh as you bite your bottom lip.

Your fingers dance dangerously close to the inseam of your slacks when Stephen’s voice draws you out of your trance.

“Ay, playas.” Stephen doesn’t look surprised at all by the obscene display in the living room. He leans on the wall over by the foyer with such casualness- it makes you want to jump up and ask everyone what the fuck is going on. Stephen meets your eye before you do, though, nodding back to the other room. “Heller’s got the chow ready.”

When they all wrangle you back into the kitchen, all your objections die on your lips.

Your eyes fall on several large vases of roses all scattered around every surface. The bunches of balloons tied to the chairs around the dining table set for five, shaped like red and white hearts, all say various cheesy phrases: Be mine, xoxo, Love Love Love.

Erik stands by the table with a half empty bowl of loose rose petals, the other half scattered over the tablecloth. There’s even a glass set of holders on the table for the taper candles now glowing softly against the disappearing light outside.

You stare between them all in stunned silence.

“What is this?” You ask finally, quietly.

Takeshi’s hand ghosts around your waist as he passes by you, his deep voice smug in your ear. “Had to distract you while they set up somehow.”

The kitchen fills with the sound of chairs dragging back and chatter as all four men get settled at the table, and you finally wander over to take a seat at the head.

“We thought we’d call a truce. For tonight.” Rick offers you. He pours himself a new whiskey, capping the bottle and tossing it precariously right over the table. But Takeshi catches the bottle with ease.

You continue to stare, still speechless at the ease with which everyone tucks into all the food. You’re finally pulled from your daze when Stephen passes you the salad bowl.

You dish some of the greens out onto your plate, feeling like you’re two steps behind everyone else as they pass each other everything. You hold up your plate as Erik serves you a few slices of the creamy chicken and mushroom you tried earlier, shooting him a small smile.

“Pink is for gratitude, you know. Not romance.” Erik tells Stephen. You look up again at the vases- three of them with big bouquets of velvety red roses, and the other three filled with bunches pink and white.

“Man, whatever. They’re still pretty, ain’t they?” He retorts, mouth half full of bread. He turns to you. You know Stephen well enough to see the hint of uncertainty in his expression now. “You like ‘em, right?”

“They’re beautiful.” You assure him. “It’s all gorgeous, really.”

“I think we owe you plenty of gratitude.” Rick comments.

You have reason to assume he means the way they’ve all been living in your home the past few months. How you helped Rick, Takeshi, and Erik without question when they needed a place to stay. And how you confided in Stephen about it all, who didn’t hesitate to support you either, after all the hardships you had helped him through in the past.

But part of you wonders if he’s talking about the other thing. The private, burning connections you’ve been making with all of them, in all their unique ways. How they all seemed to be pulling you in different directions, vying for you the way you’ve been vying for them. It wasn’t something you had all discussed. But clearly they were all far more on the same page than you had expected.

The five of you eat and toast until you finish with a few more drinks in the living room.

With your chest warmed by wine and a pleasant night, you sit happily in Stephen’s lap on the armchair as the others talk about their lives. Which has always fascinated you, admittedly, as much as you tried not to pry.

Erik, Takeshi, and Rick always seemed to get along when they were talking about the kind of shit a normal civilian couldn’t even wrap their head around. Hell, you and Stephen have seen some shit, and you could hardly wrap your head around it all.

But as it gets late, you sigh apologetically at them as you fight a yawn.

You shift in Stephen’s lap and get up. He keeps his hand wrapped around yours. “Where you goin’, mama?”

“I think it’s time for a shower and bed.” You smile.

It’s Erik who stands from the other armchair first. He slips his hands around your waist and draws you into his arms. You know it’s coming, but you still let out a soft ‘oh’ as he boldly kisses you in front of the others, not withholding a single ounce of his desire.

“Stay.” He murmurs against your lips before kissing you again.

Erik steers you over to Takeshi and Rick, who fall quiet as you obediently sit between the two large men without protest this time. Takeshi leans down to set his glass on the table and moves closer to you. You feel yourself flush as that intimidating smirk brushes across your jawline, his breath a pleasant sensation against your warm cheek.

Erik kneels in front of you. He pushes himself between your legs and pulls you down for another deep kiss. Your hands fly to his hair, your fingers pulling it from it’s careful style as you kiss him in return. The wine and ache between your legs convinces you to let go of your self-consciousness.

The sound of your kiss fills the room as the others watch, but soon you feel another set of hands on you as Erik works your mouth open with fervor.

Rick’s rough, calloused hand glides under the hem of your shirt and across your stomach. It flutters as the heat of his palm mixes with your heat.  He curls his fingers around the fabric, and you lift your arms as he pulls it up over your head. He hums appreciatively at the black laced bra now exposed. He leans in and kisses your shoulder slowly.

Rick’s patient trail leads him to your neck. He plants his lips firmly to your throat and draws a deep moan from you.

You pull away to take a breath. You look down at Takeshi, who wastes no time to bend and dip his tongue between your cleavage. You shiver as his teeth drag along your sensitive skin, nipping at the swell of your breasts.

Your eyes flit to Stephen. In the armchair right across from you, He watches you with a dark look. It doesn’t escape you the way he’s got his knees spread out wide, the hard outline of his length visible and thick against his thigh. He grips the armrest with one hand, while the other brushes his knuckle over the seam of his lips as he keeps his eyes on you.

Through all the sensations, you’re vaguely aware of the pair of hands undoing your slacks. You suck in a sharp breath when Erik hooks a finger on your panties and pulls them down, pressing a kiss to your exposed mound. He levels you with a patient look, waiting for you to object. When you don’t he continues his slow, tender undressing.

He moves his hands over your hips, drawing your slacks down under your rear. You watch in a daze as he pulls them down your thighs next, your legs pliantly maneuvering for him to continue. One ankle out from the leg of your pants, then the other. He trails kisses down your exposed inner thigh, and you can’t help the way your knees fall apart.

He kisses down until he’s lifting the back of your knee over his shoulder, mouthing at your calf tenderly before retracing his path back up.

A sharp bite draws your attention away from Erik. Takeshi soothes the bite over your budding nipple with the lave of his tongue, his hooded eyes glancing up at you as he closes his mouth around it once more. The hard suck of his lips sends a spark of electricity through you. You reach up and give the envoy’s long, golden locks an equally sharp tug. He groans for you.

You melt when Erik’s mouth finally reaches your core.

The broken little cry that tears through the quiet living room seems to ignite something in the others; Takeshi and Rick surge on, pressing you back into the couch as you let the overwhelming feeling of so many hands and tongues and lips drown you.

Rick’s strong arm easily reaches down to hook around your other knee, spreading you apart further for Erik. Your back bows taut when you feel Erik’s tongue circle your clit before delving down into your entrance.

The wet heat between his lips makes your eyes roll up as he fuckes his tongue deep inside you, his thumb pressing over the bud of your sex over and over.

He replaces his tongue with two fingers soon. You whine at the loss of heat so quickly gone, but as his tongue travels down further your eyes shoot open. Rick and Takeshi keep you pinned down as you wriggle with surprise, “Erik.”

“You can take us, darlin’.” Rick says against your ear. You look over at him helplessly as he captures your lips with his own.

“T..Take you?” You repeat. Erik’s ministrations make your mind draw a blank. You moan as he pushes and curls his fingers in and out of your cunt, while his tongue languidly opens up your other entrance. Your toes curl when it feels as if he’s rubbing that white hot spot inside of you from both sides, the sensation almost making it hard to breathe.

You’re so lost in the building heat that rises, in the way Takeshi sucks on your breasts and Rick on your neck, that your orgasm wrenches you before you can warn anyone. You grasp at the couch cushions as the wetness surprises you. Erik groans deeply, lapping at you hungrily as you soak his face. He pulls away when you collapse back down with a lick of his lips. You redden, still panting.

Rick guides you up before you can catch your breath.

You mumble, eyes glazed, to ask what he’s doing. But Takeshi kneels up on the couch with you, his hands on your hips to steady you from behind.

You finally notice how they’ve stripped their clothes, their bare chests pressing you in. Rick cups your face to kiss you. Your body responds without missing a beat, already thrumming again at the feeling of Rick’s hot arousal pressing into your stomach. Takeshi’s length is a firm match against your lower back  as he continues mouthing at your skin, placing kiss after kiss along your neck and between your shoulder blades.

Rick’s biceps flex as he drops his arms below your waist, palming you just below your ass. He lifts you with ease over onto his thighs. Your own wrap around his on instinct, and your wrap your arms around his neck with a yelp.

Your head falls back when Rick sinks you down onto his cock. Even with Erik working you open, Rick’s thick length pushes inside you til you whimper at the familiar pleasure mixed with that tantalizing stretch. Rick keeps still as you mold around him.

But it’s the hot press of Takeshi’s cock at your ass that makes you moan. His length is slick with lube, the liquid warm as it makes contact with you.

Still, you worry your bottom lip, darting an unsure glance up at Rick. “I- I don’t know if I can…”

Takeshi soothes you with a brush of his lips against your ear. “Tell me if it’s too much.” He says softly. It’s the patient, almost delicate tone you’ve only ever heard when the two of you are alone. That rare voice that reaches into you and calms you. You press your lips together and will yourself to relax.

Takeshi waits for you to nod before pushing into you slowly. Your head falls back on his shoulder as the two of you give a strangled sigh in unison. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full.

Rick begins the pace, his eyes never leaving yours as he fucks you with steady strokes. It’s an alternating pleasure. And you know despite the way Takeshi grunts and thrusts behind you, he’s making sure every sound that leaves your mouth is laced with nothing less than ecstasy. Soon, your eyes slip closed as they both slide in and out of you, fucking you til you’re moaning again.

You look over at Stephen. It’s incredible how your heart can speed up any faster at the sight of him. You watch as he fists his cock in his hand, eyes hooded and still on you. He presses his mouth closed tightly as he jerks himself off. His broad chest heaves.

You make a small sound and stretch your arm out to him and Stephen sits up.

“Go on,” Erik encourages the detective from his own seat on the coffee table. He’s in the same shape as Stephen. His palm glides over the bulge in his slacks as he seems content to watch. But you reach for him as well.

“You too.” You call to Erik.

It’s a blur of more touches, more skin, from there on. You wrap your fingers around Erik’s cock eagerly as they both join the rest of you, stripping themselves of their clothes too. You nudge your face against Stephen’s waistline. He’s barely out of his jeans when you reach for his arousal, guiding it to your lips. A groan tears from the detective’s throat as you hollow your cheeks around as much of his length as you can.

Erik’s cock twitches in your other grasp. His fingers thread through your hair, his steady hand a comfortable weight at the base of your neck as you close your eyes and swallow Stephen down.

“Fuck,” Rick grates out. His normally tan skin is flushed from his chest to the tips of his ears, a sheen of sweat forming over his body as he keeps fucking you vigorously. Takeshi, too, is reduced to grunts. And though you can’t see him, you can feel the way he grips your hips with bruising strength. Hear the way he pants and swears under his breath.

You pull off Stephen with a wet pop, uncaring about the small trail of saliva that follows your shining lips. You switch between Erik and Stephen like this until the familiar twist in their faces tells you how close they are.

Stephen reaches down and grips your fist around his cock, bucking his hips into you as he nears climax. You hum around Erik’s length, encouraging Stephen to come anywhere he wants. You whimper as the hot splash of spend lands on your jawline and your bouncing chest.

The sight elicits a groan from Erik. The first rope of cum hits the back of your throat and you draw your mouth off his cock to feel the rest paint your lips and chin. The man shudders with pleasure at the sight of you. And like a chain reaction, Rick warns you he’s close.

It’s Takeshi who reaches his fingers down and slides them over your slick clit.

You jump at the added pressure, your eyes rolling again. Erik drops to his knees, his mouth joining Takeshi’s to travel across your skin, lapping at the cum and sweat gathered on your breasts. He closes his lips around your nipple, still tender from all of Takeshi’s biting and sucking earlier.

Stephen’s mouth meets yours. He swallows your muffled little keens as the heat in your belly builds- more hot than you’ve ever felt before as Rick and Takeshi continue thrusting into you.

The colonel takes a moment to grip Stephen’s chin and drags his face away from you. He possessively leans in and steals a kiss from you right in front of Stephen.

But before your partner can object, Rick pulls away from you wetly and transfers the kiss right to him. You see the drunken smile form on Rick’s face as Stephen hesitates, surprised. Drunk on whiskey and the unbelivable fucking feeling of your cunt around his cock. Stephen grips the hand holding his chin, and it’s another little fight for control, right in front of you. The sight of their sliding tongues, of deep grunts mixing together, sends goosebumps over your skin.

Your thighs squeeze around Rick as you finally come. Your cry wracks through you with every wave, and Takeshi swears, soon following, as if he was waiting for the very moment to climax with you. Rick tears his face away from Stephen. His hips stutter as your walls flutter around him.

Rick comes last- deep inside you with a final thrust. They both do. Takeshi’s head falls to rest on your shoulder, and yours falls back on his.

You catch your breath. Erik pushes your hair from your face with a smile. By the way he’s leaning against you, you know his arousal is already back. Stephen, too, looks up at you with pupils wide and lustful.

They wait for Rick and Takeshi to remove themselves from the couch before joining you. It should be impossible, the way your mouth waters and your pussy twitches, ready for more.

+

The moonlight is dim outside when you crack open your eyes faintly. You can sense that you’re lying on the floor.  Over the plush living room rug, you would guess. Someone spoons you from behind- their deep breathing lulls you in and out of your own sleep for a few minutes. You rub your legs against theirs, noticing a throw blanket has been tucked over your bottom half at some point in the night.

You stir again at the click and flare of a lighter.

Erik sits up and leans over Takeshi’s hand as the envoy offers a flame amicably. The small point of light illuminates Erik’s face for a moment, smoke curling into the still air around him and leaving shadows on the far wall. He takes a puff, before passing the cigarette down to Takeshi, who lies stretched out beside you, every inch of them both still bare.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Takeshi teases without having to catch your eye. He always seems to know when you’re awake, even now.

You sigh and stretch a little. “I suppose you boys have earned it.” You tease back. And they both smirk.

“Damn right.” Comes a deep rasp from behind you. Rick’s arms draw tighter around your midriff. He pulls you closer to him, if that’s even possible. You let out a soft giggle as he rolls you over himself and away from the other men.

You drag the blanket with you to keep yourself covered- though you don’t know why it matters now. No one has bothered dressing themselves again after your long night of celebrating. You all have never been closer than tonight.

You note how someone must have wiped you down with care as you slept, your skin clean where it had been utterly debauched. You could guess any one of them would have, at this point.

Rick presses his face into the back of your head, nuzzling you there.

That leaves you facing Stephen, whose head rests in the crook of his arm as he watches you with that lop-sided smile. Your eyes flick down to the serenity tattoo that stretches across his chest. You reach your hand out toward it, and Rick doesn’t seem to mind when the detective moves closer, slotting himself against you until you’re sandwiched between them, your hand over his sternum.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He murmurs sleepily, his tired smile filling you with warmth for your partner. Your someone far more than just a partner.

“Happy Valentine’s Day. Thank you.” You whisper back.

It’s obvious by Takeshi’s tone that he’s happy to interrupt your little moment, even from out of view with his own, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Detective.”

Rick snorts behind you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, darlin’.”

“Alles liebe zum valentinstag, mein schatz.”

Stephen sits up on his elbow with an irritated scrunch of his face.

”Ay y’all can go back to fuckin’ off again.” You can’t help but crack up a little at the indignant glare he shoots at all the others, even in the darkness.

“What do you mean? I think we’ve turned a new leaf, don’t you?” Asks Erik. And when he reaches over to pass the cigarette to him, Stephen’s glare softens. Still, he scoffs before he takes a cautious pull from the cig. “I quite enjoyed tonight.” Erik muses.

Takeshi agrees. “I wouldn’t object to doing that again.”

Finally, you sit up, much to Rick’s sleepy objection. He keeps his hold on your thigh as he turns over onto his back, his thumb still massaging your skin absently.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” You wonder with an impassive mutter. But of course, your chest swells just thinking about tonight. Not just the sex. But the dinner. The gifts. The way all four of them clearly value something more than their resentment toward each other. At least enough to play nice for tonight. Was that something really you? Was it really possible they could consider keeping this up?

Stephen sees the crease in your brow and the telling way your bottom lip juts out in a cautious pout.

He tsks, grinning at you. Reaching up, he swipes his thumb over that bottom lip. The gesture eases you.

“Y’already know who’s in charge, baby. You’re the boss.”

[loverhymeswith]

30. “I’d love to see how you will get out of this one.” w/ Erik Heller? - Babs <3

After Hours | Erik Heller x F!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, build up to smut

Word Count: 867 words

A/N: Thank you for the request @babblydrabbly 💖 This was a fun little drabble to write.

Stumbling through the doorway to his ground floor apartment with you wrapped up his arms, Erik’s large hands are everywhere; stroking, palming, squeezing your flesh. He just can’t get enough of you.

In fact, neither one of you have been able to keep your hands to yourselves since you left the bar nearly an hour ago. The taxi ride across town was interesting to say the least; Erik was sure to tip the driver well.

Swiping your tongue along the seam of his soft lips, your own fingers are already making light work of his shirt buttons as Erik tugs you over the threshold.

Your mind is swimming, and it’s not just from the over-priced cocktails you’ve been drinking all evening. The two of you have been dancing around each other for months now, the tension building up until finally, with the alcohol loosening your inhibitions, you made your move.

To say that Erik had been surprised by your bluntly worded admission of desire would be an understatement, but - as you have long since come to expect from your quiet but efficient colleague - he reacted swiftly and surely, bundling you out of the bar and hailing a cab, his lips barely leaving yours in the process.

As he attempts to navigate the darkened hallway with your mouth now trailing a distracting path along his jaw, you slip the shirt over his broad shoulders, pausing just long enough to admire the expansive amount of tanned flesh on display, before turning your attention to his belt buckle.

He’s murmuring your name under his breath in that deep, lilting accent. It sends a shiver along your skin. Those long hours of working side by side and silently pining for him are finally coming to a head. The knowledge that you are moments away from finally experiencing all of Erik Heller is as thrilling as it is unexpected.

You find yourselves in the living room, limbs intertwined and lips locked. Erik manoeuvres the two of you onto the sofa without hesitation, pulling you down into his lap.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for a very long time,” he admits into the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

“Do you think anyone noticed us slip away?” You’re referring of course to the rest of your team mates, left behind at the bar.

“I don’t care.” His voice drops even lower, barely more than a growl as he hurriedly relieves you of your blouse and bra. You find yourself inclined to agree. To hell with the gossip that will surely ensue.

Tugging his boxers past the sharp jut of his hip bone, you’re rewarded by the first tantalising glimpse of him, when the living room light flickers on.

With your already racing pulse quickening, you tear your lips away from Erik’s. To your utter horror you raise your head, only to find yourself staring eye to eye with his sixteen-year-old daughter.

Your hands fly to your chest, mortification rapidly replacing the desire that was flooding your body mere seconds ago.

Seeing the look of shock on your face, Erik glances over his shoulder and pales.

“Hanna!”

As you slide from his lap and duck below the top of the sofa to redress, Erik scrambles to readjust his boxers and fasten his pants. There’s little to be done about the incriminating evidence of his desire, or his missing shirt discarded along the way.

“What are you doing home? I wasn’t expecting you back tonight.” His voice is impressively steady given the circumstance, but you’d expect no less. You’ve seen him at work.

“My plans changed.”

Hanna’s expression is unreadable when you remerge, your modesty protected once more by your blouse. The teen studies you carefully for a moment, before addressing her father.

“What is she doing here, Erik? I thought you said you weren’t going to bring work home with you?”

This is the first time you’ve met Erik’s daughter and it’s far from the ideal introduction, but you have to stifle a laugh at her tone; she’s blunt but not unkind. Just like her father.

Erik cringes, turning to you apologetically and muttering under his breath. “I thought she was staying with a friend.”

“It’s ok, I should go,” you whisper softly, fighting the urge to run your hands over his bare skin now that you have company. “Perhaps we can pick this up another time?” You flash him a meaningful smile, leaving the final word unsaid. Soon.

“You don’t have to leave on my account,” Hanna informs you, somehow having heard your quiet comment. “But if you’re going to have sex, please don’t do it on the sofa.”

Erik’s cheeks flame and you feel your own skin heat at Hanna’s brazen comment. It’s definitely time to leave. You scoop your handbag from the floor before rising to your feet.

Forced to remain seated thanks to the still-obvious bulge in his pants, Erik shoots you another pained expression. The disappointment in his eyes no doubt mirrors your own.

You lean down and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I'll see you on Monday. Although I’d love to see how you’ll get out of this one.”

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @yespolkadotkitty @edwardbaldwin @fairchildflag @mayhem24-7forever @christinasyellowflowers @immyownlittlebitch @s-u-t @weallhaveadestiny @lavenderluna10 @bewitchedignition @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42

[yespolkadotkitty]

"We're snowed in and there is not a lot of space and heat" with your choice of Joel character? Maybe Heller? 🥰

Oooooooohhh

Words: 900 ~ Pairing: Erik Heller x female reader ~ Warnings: Brief mention of an attack and rescue

-----

“Now what do we do?”

Erik Heller turns from the window. You both woke up to this white-out, snow beyond the door that looks knee-deep. Today Heller was meant to be taking you home from this uninhabitable place, but that doesn’t look likely now.

“Now we wait,” he replies, in that annoyingly calm way of his.

“For days?”

“If necessary, ja.” He stalks away from the window and grabs some logs from the pile by the door. “I will stoke the fire.”

You glare at the line of his broad back as he piles the logs he felled yesterday on to the wilting flame in the fireplace.

This cabin is a waystation for soldiers-for-hire like Erik. A job he seems very good at, if the speed at which he rescued you from opportunist bandits is anything to go by. You’ll never forget the flinty look in his maple-brown eyes during the stand off. All parties made it out alive, incredibly, but one of the bandits is going to be walking funny for some time after Erik put a bullet in his calf.

“This should warm you up,” Erik says, still facing the flickering flames, the red and orange greedily licking at the fresh wood.

Your heart softens. It’s hardly his fault that it snowed so hard. You are in the mountains after all. “Thankyou,” you say. “Shall I make some tea?”

“Coffee, if you don’t mind,” he says in his low, pleasantly musical German accent. You learned German at school and the accent never struck you as particularly seductive until you met the tall, blond man currently turning over logs in the iron hearth.

“Sure.”

You busy yourself in the small kitchen area, making tea for you and coffee, black, for Erik. When you turn with the mugs in hand, he’s standing looking into the flames. His grey knit sweater looks impossibly soft. You want to reach out and put your palm over his heart, feel the organ beat under layers of wool and skin and muscle, but you don’t. Because you barely know him.

“Here.”

“Thankyou.” He inclines his head slightly, like a 1940s gentleman. That look would suit him. Grey waistcoat, tweed jacket, smart shoes.

You shake the image off. “I don’t suppose there are any boardgames here?”

****

Hours later, you’ve played four games of Monopoly. Erik has a very dry sense of humour and a quick wit. Unfortunately, wit alone can’t keep you warm. The fire is burning steadily, but the cabin is a large space and the snow outside is making the building cold, even if you continue to chain-drink tea until you feel like your organs are floating around inside you.

You must shiver noticeably, because Erik mutters your name.

You look up. “Hmm?”

“You should have told me you were still cold.”

“I’m fine.”

He grabs your hand. You know your fingers are like ice, and he swears lowly. “You are not fine. You will catch your death.”

You huff. “Sounds like something my mum would say.”

“Then she is a sensible woman,” he mutters.

“For God’s sake if you ever meet her don’t tell her that. She’ll be immediately casting you as her son in law.”

As soon as the words are out of your mouth you regret them. “Sorry,” you blurt out. “It was a joke. You’re probably already married. Or with someone.” You look away. Your face is burning.

Erik squeezes your hand gently. “I’m not married. Or with anyone. There was a woman, a long time ago, but.. She died.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” On instinct you wrap yourself around him for a tight hug. His heart beats steadily under your ear. “Me and my big fat mouth.”

He chuckles and the sound is lovely and deep from your position on his chest. “Doesn’t matter. Come on. Let’s get you warm.”

You open your mouth to say yes, it does matter, but then you gasp when he lifts you up into his arms. You panic for a second, clutch at his arms and boy, he’s jacked under that sweater. “What are you doing?”

“Bed is the warmest place here. Thick sheets, and my old CO taught me a trick about heating up beds.”

When you snort, he huffs. “Not like that. You’ll see.”

He sets you down on the bed with a gentleness surprising from someone his size.

When he returns five minutes later, he’s holding something wrapped in a bundle of cloth. He peels a little back to show you a brick.

“Put the brick in the fire, wrap it up, slide it at the foot of the bed under the sheets. A hot water bottle.”

You wiggle your feet down until your toes just brush the hot bundle. It’s divine. “Oh,” you moan.

A muscle in Erik’s jaw twitches. He turns to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To guard the door,” he grates out.

“From who? The snowdrift is three feet deep! And the guys who grabbed me were opportunistic. Would they really see wading through three feet of snow an opportunity?”

He nods slightly. “Fine. But I can’t stay here with you. It’s not safe. For you.”

You furrow your brows. “You won’t hurt me.”

“No. Not that.” His gaze flicks down your body, lust darkening his beautiful eyes, and you think: oh. Everything inside you heats.

Then you hold out your hand and say, “Stay anyway. I want you.”

People who might like this: @skvatnavle @heresathreebee @klmurr @lacontroller1991 @a-reader-and-a-writer @11thstreetvigilante

[lacontroller1991]

GFS Drabble Project for March 2022

On the first of each month, each member of the GFS will write a Drabble of 1k words or less based on a selected prompt and using a character played by Joel Kinnaman.

Jailbreak by @babblydrabbly

Savior by @fairchildflag

Silver Ghosts by @heresathreebee

What Matters by @11thstreetvigilante

Invincible by @lacontroller1991

I Can't Do This Again by @loverhymeswith

Liebchen by @yespolkadotkitty

The Only Way by @a-reader-and-a-writer

[maddu-oliveira]

💫 No Longer Fictional 💫

Erik Heller x Writer!Reader AU (Part 1)

warnings: mentions of alcohol, blood (reader get slightly hurt), bad language

word count: 1.1k

A/N: I tagged everyone I thought would might like to read this, so if someone doesn't want to be tagged just dm me or go to my ask and if someone wants to join the list do the same.

Taglist: @wtfobiwan @bewitchedignition @a-reader-and-a-writer @skvatnavle @11thstreetvigilante @lacontroller1991 @loverhymeswith

Reader's P.O.V

"Don't you think you should take some time off?" My friend asked during our video call, making me stop writing and look at the screen.

"Why? I'm fine, Alyssa! I like what I do" I said, starting to write again and shaking my leg because of anxiety.

"I think three books published in a few months is already too many and you need to rest, Y/N" Aly said with worry in her voice making me stop and take a deep breath.

“I just want to distract myself from the bad things happening in my life now” I ran my hands over my face feeling exhausted and now paying more attention to my friend.

"I know that's how you relax yourself, bestie but- It's not healthy and you can have a burn out" Aly was right, it wouldn't help me if I overworked and got over the thing I like the most.

"I'll just create the character, okay? Can you help me with that, Aly?"

We spent a few hours deciding what that character would look like, choosing a name as if it were our child, making jokes about being Frankenstein for creating something together, and choosing the language and appearance of the character. Maybe because I was drinking wine to accompany my friend during the call, we were having so much fun and with each new feature we laughed saying that this would be the mix of the men of our dreams.

"This man has a German accent and speaks French, he couldn't be more perfect" Alyssa said laughing and shaking her head.

"Erik Heller is the man of our dreams! I would totally marry him" I took another sip of the wine.

"Why don't you search for someone like him? You know, after that shitty relationship you went through" Aly said calmly trying to not make me mad or something.

"Because he's a character that we created to be perfect and perfection doesn't exist in real life, Aly" I sigh, finishing another full cup of wine. "I would only get a man like this if magic exists and I wish for him"

"Why don't you try? You never know if it might happen or not" She says, making me laugh.

"Oh shut up, Alyssa! How would that work? Blood sacrifice?" I stood up to open my bedroom's window.

"You're so dark! Not blood sacrifice but something romantic, I don't know" I heard Aly chuckles.

"Like a shooting star?" I asked, looking at the stars.

"Yes! A shooting star's wish would be amazing, don't you think?" She said smiling as soon as I got back in front of the laptop.

"Let's just finish his backstory, Aly"

"Why do all your characters always have a sad story?" Aly asked as soon as she finished reading what I sent her.

"Sad? They always end well and happy" I say, leaning back in my chair to make myself more comfortable.

“Yes, after suffering everything possible and being traumatized" My friend said, making me laugh.

"But at least they have happy endings, Aly" I say, arranging the table that my things were on and taking the empty bottle of wine from there. "Maybe I write like this because I'm waiting for my happy ending after going through so much"

“Aww bestie…” I heard her say but not paying too much attention until I saw something in the night sky.

“Oh shit, Aly! I just saw a shooting star-” I couldn't even finish speaking, because my friend started yelling at me.

“MAKE A WISH! Make a wish quickly, bitch”

"Calm down, Aly! I- I wish- I wish Erik Heller" I said laughing but stopped as soon as the power went off and my laptop turned off. "Shit- No no no"

I got up quickly to try to turn on my laptop, which resulted in me knocking over the bottle of wine that splattered into shards in the room, so I decided to use the flashlight on my cell phone to get out of my room and go try to turn the house power back on. Muttering curses I went downstairs to the kitchen to look for candles in the drawers, and as soon as I found them, I lit some and placed them in some of the rooms in the house. I took a candle to my room still using my cell phone camera, placed it on the table and took care with the shards, bending down to gather them using a sheet of paper that prevented me from cutting my hands. I finished collecting the shards by taking them to the bathroom and throwing them in the trash, as soon as I got back to my room I heard a noise outside in my garden.

"I just wanted peace.... These raccoons are very bold" I say, going to look out the window and scare away the striped intruder.

When I looked out the window I saw a tall silhouette, a man, who had probably fallen there because he was cleaning his clothes from the dirt. At that moment I froze, as soon as the stranger turned around I closed the window and lowered myself against the wall.

"What the fuck is this?" I muttered to myself as I looked for my cell phone that I had left on the floor. I lifted my head a little to look out the window, seeing if the man was still there and finding my yard empty, getting confused.

Am I going crazy?

I stood up looking better at the outside of the house, letting out a sigh of relief and turning my attention back to my laptop that still hadn't turned on even though it was charging. But my relief didn't last long as I heard something hit my window, probably a rock, making me take a step back and feel a burning pain in my foot.

"Shit!" I complained low, knowing that I had stepped on some shrapnel that went unnoticed when it came time to clean it up.

The noise at the window repeats itself, making me walk to it and open it prepared to throw the candle and other things on top of any possible intruder.

"Are you hurt? Scheiße-" The stranger could not finish speaking as I had already thrown the candle in his direction, causing him to mumble something I could not decipher.

"Get out of here or I'll call the police!" I tried to sound as serious as possible even though I was scared to death.

"But you're hurt-" The man approached the window, making me gasp, surprised by how he looks.

"Who the hell are you? Get the fuck out of here" I said firmly and closing the window quickly lowering my self next to the wall again. This just can be a sick dream because I'm exhausted. It's just a dream…

[derangeduser]

Equivocal Intentions

Hanna (2011) Fanfiction

Marissa Wiegler x Erik’s Sister!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, sexual themes, angst, and dashes of homophobia but not really.

Key:

Y/n - Your name

e/c - Eye color

h/c - Hair color

Disclaimer: I do not own the story Hanna, nor the characters. This is just a reader insert, and my own adaption.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Valentines Special

(That is so fucking late :,) )

First Intention:

Marissa grasps the handle of the umbrella tighter as the rain begins to get heavier. She eyes the magazines in front of her before sighing, her breath being visible in the cold air.

“Irgendetwas von Interesse, gnädige Frau?”

(Anything of interest, ma’am?)

The vendor asks politely. He’s noticed that she has been standing there for awhile, and that she hasn’t even attempted to buy anything from the kiosk.

The woman stays silent for a moment, and the man would have thought he was being ignored if it wasn’t for her blue eyes that were trained on him.

“Nein, ich stöbere nur.”

(No, I’m just browsing)

He nods, and goes back to reading his newspaper. Marissa looks over the items one more time, before walking to the side of the news kiosk.

She looks at her watch impatiently, before hearing the sound of splashes coming towards her. The pale woman looked up and saw a man. Marissa was a bit shocked to see that he didn’t have an umbrella. The rain had darkened his clothes, and dampened his hair.

He stares at her cautiously with his dark brown eyes before asking,

“Marissa Wiegler?”

Her eyebrow raises. “Yes. Erik Heller?”

The man only silently nods, a strand of wet hair falling in front of his face.

He looks behind him, and Marissa looks as well. But she sees nothing.

“Where’s-” She begins, observing him. He’s pale, and his lips are slightly blue from the cold.

Before she can finish, your feminine voice speaks from behind him.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

Clutching your umbrella, you bound towards him, an annoyed expression on your face.

You stand beside your brother, holding the umbrella over both of your heads.

“Look at you! You’re soaked.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t exaggerate. It’s only a little rain.”

“A little? You–“

You continue to bicker with Erik, not paying any mind to the curious set of blue eyes watching you.

Marissa looks you up and down, taking in your features. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away for some reason.

Falling out of her trance, you finally take notice of her presence.

“Oh! Hi, you must be Agent Wiegler.”

You hold out a gloved hand to her, and she stares at it, before gripping it in a firm handshake. A charming smile consumes your face, and a warm feeling fills her.

“It’s nice to meet you, I hope my brother wasn’t rude.”

Erik glares at you, and you pay no mind to it only focusing on Marissa.

Said woman smirks.

“He wasn’t. Though,” She eyes his drenched appearance, “He could work on his first impression.”

Joyful laughter spills from you, and Marissa feels a twinge of pride.

Calming down you grin, nudging your brother, uncaring of getting your own clothes wet. “I like her.”

A light flush comes upon Marissa’s cheeks, though it’s barely noticeable with the shade of her umbrella.

Erik however, doesn’t look so impressed. His glare has softened, but irritation was still present.

“Don’t even think about it.”

His words confuse Marissa, but she doesn’t let it show.

You huff, “Not what I meant, Erik.”

Marissa doesn’t know if she wants to question this or not.

Though she doesn’t get time to, as you interlock your left arm with your brother’s right. “Anyways, we’d better get going huh?”

The woman in front of you hesitates, then nods, turning around. You turn to Erik and wink at him. He shakes his head at your actions.

You both follow when Marissa walks away, a smile on your face, and a stony expression on Erik’s.

Second Intention:

“I come from Germany.”

The two women in front of you struggle until they unconfidently blurt,

“I come from Germany.”

You smile encouragingly.

“Good job Johanna, Anna. Note how in English we don’t say ‘Deutschland’, we say Germany.”

Johanna repeats the phrase slowly, while Anna is too timid to try. You speak to them calmly.

“Eine neue Sprache zu lernen ist nicht einfach, und ich erwarte nicht, dass Sie einfach so Englisch lernen.”

(Learning a new language isn’t easy, and I don’t expect you to learn English just like that.)

You take both their hands gently in yours.

“Es ist völlig in Ordnung, es nicht zu verstehen. Denken Sie nur daran, Fragen zu stellen, wenn Sie verwirrt sind, okay?”

(It’s totally fine to not understand. Just remember to ask questions if you’re confused okay?)

They both nod at different times, and you carefully let go to continue the lesson. Your words seem to have calmed them a bit. In fact, one of them even raised their hand.

“Ja, Johanna?” (Yes, Johanna?)

“Wie sagst du ‘Ich liebe dich’?”

(How do you say ‘I love you’?)

You simper at her question. You motion to both of the women.

“Say ‘I’.”

Johanna says it first, and Anna shyly follows.

“Love.”

Again they repeat.

“You.”

Johanna says the last word thoughtfully, and Anna looks embarrassed.

“Now say it all together. I love you.”

“I love you.” Their German accents stick to the words, but you feel happy nonetheless. Your watch beeps, and you glance at it. 11:40 am.

“Tolle Arbeit heute, meine Damen. Ich sehe euch beide am Mittwoch, stellt sicher, dass ihr übt.”

(Great job today, ladies. I’ll see you both on Wednesday, make sure to practice.)

You start to pack away papers in your folder, walking towards the door.

As you open it, a hand grips the sleeve of your blouse. Turning, you see Anna’s brown hair.

“Was ist das, Frau Baumann?”

(What is it, Ms. Baumann?)

“I-Ich wollte mich nur für Ihre Hilfe bedanken.”

(I-I just wanted to say thank you for your help.)

Leaning on the door and holding your files in your left arm, you pat her head softly.

“Es ist mein Job. Das tue ich gerne.”

(It’s my job. I’m happy to do so.)

She blushes and quickly moves away from you. You chuckle. Johanna watches you both in interest. Somebody from behind you clears their throat, and you jump.

Spinning around you see your superior, her eyebrow raised and arms crossed. She looks at you expectantly.

Sheepishly you rub the back of your neck, and bid your goodbyes to Johanna and Anna, as guards come to escort them to their rooms.

Facing the ginger haired woman, she stares at you silently. You still rub the back of your neck, a nervous gesture.

“Sorry, Ms. Wiegler. I know I was off schedule-”

She holds her hand up.

“No need. Just come by my office after your next session.”

You shake your head wordlessly, clutching the files to your chest.

The watch on your wrist beeps again, and you curse to yourself.

You were about to dismiss yourself when she speaks, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes ma’am.” You speak hurriedly as you rush off, your pencil skirt hindering your movement.

Fucking formal wear.

In your haste, you didn’t see the smirk on your superiors face.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

“Adiós, Elena. Gran trabajo hoy!”

(Goodbye, Elena. Great job today!)

The woman cheerfully smiles at you, shocking you with a hug.

“Gracias, Y/n!” (Thanks, Y/n!)

You reciprocate the hug, patting her back. “No hay problema! No te olvides de estudiar.”

(No problem! Don’t forget to study.)

Staring as she walks off with the guard, you grumble when you remember that you might be in trouble.

Your heels click as you walk off, playing with the edge of your files absentmindedly.

Only once before had you been to Marissa’s office, and you only got a brief glance because you were on a tour of the headquarters.

Thankfully you have a great memory, otherwise you would’ve gotten lost with all the different rooms.

Standing outside her door, you pause.

You must be in trouble right? But for what?

Hitting your head lightly, you knock on her door. You wait until you hear a muffled ‘come in’.

Walking in cautiously, you observe your new surroundings. The room is quite monotone, and nothing particularly special sticks out to you.

Well, except the woman sitting at a desk. Her head is positioned downwards as she’s writing, and her hair covers her face slightly.

Without looking up she motions you to come towards her, and you stumble to follow her request.

Once she’s finished with whatever she’s writing, she looks up at you, her blank gaze scrutinizing you.

“Do you know why I want to speak with you?”

You instantly shake your head.

“No, ma’am.”

She gazes at you for a moment, then leans back in her chair.

“I’ve been informed that you have been…. unprofessional with the women you teach. Is that true?”

“Who told you that?”

You’d bet your life on Kevin. He’s always had it out for you since you rejected him.

“That’s not of importance. Well?”

You scowl. “Of course I’m not.”

A dark look comes upon Marissa’s face. “Are you sure? I saw you getting awfully handsy with Ms. Baumann.”

“She was just saying thank you.”

“And Ms. Ortiz?”

Your eyes widen. Was she watching you?

“She was giving me a hug, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

She eyes you blankly. You observe as she rises from her chair, and leans forward on her hands.

“While that may be true, you have a job to do here Ms. Heller. You are not here to make friends or more, are we clear?”

You tried to keep it in, you really did. If Erik could see you now, he’d be so impressed you managed to hold off for so long. But sadly, the damn had to break at one point.

“If I didn’t know any better Ms. Wiegler, I’d say you’re jealous.”

The words came out before you could stop them. You’re just so… frustrated.

You came here to help women learn English, not to be judged for who you are.

When Marissa clenches her jaw, you realize that you most likely won’t have a job anymore.

You were about to excuse yourself. Pack your things while you still had the adrenaline running through you, but instead Marissa carefully walks around her desk.

Your eyes widen when she treads past you and towards the door. The sound of a lock being turned makes you whirl around. You see Marissa leaning back on the door, her blue eyes trained on your figure.

“Ms. Wiegler-“ You stutter when she takes a step towards you.

“And if I was?”

She takes another.

“Uh-“ Instinctually, you back up.

“If I was jealous, what would you do?”

Another step. Your hips hit her desk.

“I-I uhm-“ She places her hands on either side of you, and you clutch the files close to your chest. A barrier.

“Yes?” Your noses are practically touching, and your breathing comes out labored.

Why have you lost your nerve so suddenly?

“Ms. Wiegler this i-is highly inappropriate-“

Choking on your words, she moves her lips to your ear. “You’re going to crumple your files, sweetheart.”

Your hands flinch when you realize that you are basically crushing the files in your hands. Your fingers loosen on them, and Marissa quickly snatches them from your hold, placing them on her desk.

You turn your head to locate them, and you jump when wet lips touch your neck. Cool hands grab your waist, and to steady yourself, your fingers grip the edge of the desk.

With a surprising amount of strength, Marissa grasps your thighs and sits you upon her desk. She moves between your legs, her front against yours.

She buries her face into your neck, her soft hair brushes your jaw. Kissing her way up to your ear she murmurs,

“Tell me to stop. And I will.”

A shiver trills through you when her fingers graze the edge of your skirt.

Swallowing, you face Marissa. Her eyes were blown, and a flush is present on her neck.

Calming down slightly, you let go of the surface below and reach up. You carefully cup her jaw,

“Don’t.”

and crash her lips into yours.

Third Intention:

“What are we?”

Marissa pauses her chewing, her eyebrow raised.

“I just mean… are we a thing? Or…”

The woman across from you swallows her food, placing her fork down.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, you’re kinda my boss. Any type of romantic interaction would be considered unprofessional so…”

“That ship sailed awhile ago, darling.”

You blush, crossing your arms.

“Touché.”

“But you technically didn’t answer my question.”

Your shoulders tense up, and Marissa notices. “Do you want to stop seeing eachother?”

Your mouth flies open,

“No! Its not that at all.”

She gazes at you thoughtfully for a moment, “Then what is it?”

Taking a deep breath you say steadily,

“I was wondering if… you’d like to be official.”

Silence engulfs your dining room, and your heart hammers in your chest.

This was it. Marissa was going to put on the rest of her clothes and leave your apartment. She was going to fire you-

A cold hand caresses your warm one.

Her usually blank face looks at you warmly.

“You beat me to it.”

You blink. What?

She leaves her chair and walks up to you. Marissa holds you jaw and lifts up your face to look up at her.

“I was going to ask you that.”

Leaning down, she locks her lips with yours. Her lips are soft, and you melt in her hands. She leaves you dazed.

“So..that’s a yes?”

Marissa huffs, exasperated.

“Of course it’s a yes you idiot!”

A wide smile appears on your face, and you break into fits of laughter.

Marissa shakes her head at your antics, and yelps when you pull her into your lap. You wrap your arms around her slim waist, snuggling into her neck.

Fourth Intention:

You wake up to the sound of buzzing.

Eyes still closed, you feel to the right of you, and frown when your hand comes in contact with nothing.

You sit up and rub your eyes, groaning. You squint, checking the clock beside you. 4:23 am.

Blowing a piece of hair out your face, you move the comforter off your body.

Following the sound, you blink when you reach the bathroom door.

A sliver of light is creeping from the open crack of the door, and you cautiously push it open a bit more.

You spot Marissa brushing her teeth, her electric toothbrush being the source of the buzzing.

Your shoulders sag with relief, and you were about to sneak back to bed, until you saw blood.

A quiet gasp comes from your lips as you see her bright red gums, and the blood trickling down from them.

Marissa seems unaffected, continuing to meticulously abuse her gums as the blood drips from her mouth into the sink below.

Once she’s satisfied, she rinses her mouth from red, checking her teeth in the mirror to see if there’s any lasting trace of it.

You don’t even try to run as she opens the door. She freezes, her blue eyes widened in shock. Gripping the door handle tightly she begins,

“Darling! I-I uhm– I didn’t expect you to be up.”

Marissa grows anxious when you don’t answer. She shuts off the light of the bathroom, effectively hiding her face in the shadows.

“You–you want the bathroom, right? I’ll leave you to it.”

She rushes past you, trying to run from your gaze. But your hand latches to her wrist. “Wait.”

She tenses, slowly turning. You keep a firm grip on her, taking a step closer.

Raising your other hand to her cheek you speak to her softly,

“Má lásko, are you– are you okay?”

(My love.)

The woman leans into your touch.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You eye her warily. “It’s just– I saw what you did in the bathroom.”

She inhales sharply, looking away.

“You’re mad, aren’t you?”

“Honestly? A bit. But I’m more worried than mad.”

You rub her cheek with your thumb gently. “Do you… do you know why you do it?”

Marissa sighs, glancing back at you.

She debates whether or not she should be honest.

“I don’t really know why. It’s just become… a habit of mine.”

You grasp her wrist and face a bit tighter. Not enough to hurt, but enough to gain her attention.

“A habit? You mean you do this all the time?”

“Not all the time-“

“But enough to call it a habit?”

She shuts her mouth at your words, and you sigh.

“You have perfect teeth, you shouldn’t be worried about them.”

“I know, I just– can’t stop. I have to keep brushing until the need is gone.”

Frowning you mumble, “If you don’t stop, then I’ll have to force you to.”

She chuckles, “How?”

Bowing your head in thought, you shoot up when you gain an idea.

“I’ll stop kissing you.”

Her eyes bulge out of her skull, as a disbelieving laugh leaves her.

“What?”

You reiterate it to her.

Marissa shakes her head haphazardly. “No, no– I heard you. I mean well, why?”

“So it’ll give you initiative to stop that bad habit of yours.”

The older woman blinks her blue eyes at you incredulously. Then humor takes hold of her and she lets go of you to hold her stomach.

Your hands fall to your sides as you look at her, confused. She wheezes,

“That’s your plan, Y/n? Really?”

“I think it’s a good idea.” You mumble, a pout on your lips.

Marissa snickers in amusement, her ginger hair shaking with her head.

“It’s sweet of you to care, but I don’t think it’ll work.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?”

Your lover goes silent, slightly awed by your stubbornness. She smirks.

“Can I at least get one now before you condemn me?”

You laugh abruptly. “You make it sound like I’m guiding you to your inevitable death.”

Marissa pulls you in by your hips.

“You might as well be.” She teases, her voice low. She stares at your lips.

Exasperated, you push her away and say, “Then I guess you’re doomed, because you are not getting any kisses from me until you show improvement.”

Shrugging at your response, she folds her arms, bending towards you.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You just giggle at her reply, leaving her to go to the bathroom.

As she hears the sink start to run, doubt floods her.

You couldn’t possibly be serious. Right? You wouldn’t actually stop kissing her, you were probably just joking…..

right?

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

You weren’t joking.

It had been weeks since you last kissed Marissa. After that fateful morning, your lips barely came in contact with hers at all.

It was fine on the first day, she’s not so pathetic that she can’t handle not being kissed for a day.

But then came the next day, and the next, and the next. Until 2 weeks went by, and Marissa got nothing.

The best she’d gotten was a hug.

You also had taken to checking her gums. It was just as weird as it seems.

Every single time, in the morning and at night you would check her gums to see if they were red, or if there were any lasting trails of blood on her teeth. You even check the sink.

At first this really annoyed Marissa.

Who wants their gums surveyed twice a day?

But she slowly realized that you were only doing it, because you care for her well-being. Which, irritatingly, made her want to kiss you even more.

And luckily, today might be the day.

For one week she hasn’t made her gums bleed once, and only flossed as far as her gums let her.

You took notice of her change, and felt smug.

You knew she couldn’t survive not having affection for long.

She waits in anticipation on your verdict, and you debate whether or not to hold off just a bit longer to mess with her.

But you can’t help it when she makes that adorable hopeful face.

“You’ve been very good this past week, Má lásko.” (My love.)

Involuntarily, she leans towards you at your praise. You chuckle.

“So I think it’s only fair that you get a reward.”

Marissa huffs, “About tim-“

You kiss her cheek.

…her damn cheek.

Her shocked face is making it hard to contain your laughter, but you hold strong, keeping a normal look on your face.

You crawl away to the other side of the bed, and start tucking yourself in, getting ready for sleep. Marissa’s head snaps to you, and you think she’ll get whiplash from how fast the movement was.

“What the hell was that?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Oh you know damn well what I mean!”

“I don’t understand, you got your kiss.”

“That wasn’t what I wanted and you know that!”

You hide your smile in your arms, shutting your eyes.

“Be good for another week, and we’ll see what happens.”

You fully predict her to huff and reluctantly go to sleep. That’s what she’s done for the past two weeks.

What you didn’t predict, was her yanking your body towards her, trapping your arms in her grasp.

She straddles your waist, and looms over you, a dark shadow on her face.

“It’s been two weeks, and my patience is wearing thin.”

Getting closer, Marissa’s breath fans over your face. “So either you give me what I deserve,” her lips barely touch yours, “or I take it anyways.”

All you see is blue, her eyes having you in a trance. But the trance is broken when blue darts down to you lips.

You sigh dramatically, “Fine-“

Her mouth is on yours before you can continue. She takes advantage of your parted lips and pushes her tongue through, brushing against your own. You moan lightly, and Marissa smirks.

“Sounds like you want this just as much as I do.”

Breathing heavily you say,

“Not doing it, is not the same as not wanting it. I only stopped to help you.”

Her grip on your wrists soften, as does her face. “Y/n…”

She can’t help but kiss you again.

“I love you.”

You beam at her brightly.

“I love you too.”

Fifth Intention:

Walking through the threshold you call out, “I’m back, Má lásko!”

(My love.)

Shutting the door, you walk to the kitchen, placing your bags on the counter.

Dusting your hands, you leave the kitchen to roam around your apartment. Calling out to her again, you hear a muffled response coming from your office.

You open the door to see Marissa seated in front of your piano, back as straight as a board.

Silently you take steps towards her, sitting by the piano with her.

“I didn’t know you played.” She says.

“I do. Very well.” she rolls her eyes at your arrogance, “But I haven’t played in awhile.”

Marissa thinks before asking,

“Could you… play something for me?”

She smiles when you nod,

“Do you have an requests?”

“I’m not picky.”

Humming to yourself, you try and remember one of your favorites to play. It’s a bit cliche but…

You start to play ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ by Elvis Presley.

“Wise men say, only fools rush in.

But I cant help falling in love with you.”

Marissa gazes at you fondly, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?

If I can’t help falling in love with you.”

You can feel her humming on your shoulder.

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be.”

It seems you both were so caught up with the song, you didn’t hear the front door opening and someone call out to you.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too

For I can’t help–“

“Y/n?”

You slam on the keys, jolting. Marissa straightens up.

You swing your head around to see your brother standing in the doorway, keys dangling from his hand.

His brown orbs dart between you and the woman next to you, his face unreadable.

“Erik! Uhm-“

Your brother doesn’t scare you by any means, but his face gives you chills.

You rise to your feet, “I can explain-“

His eyes are stuck on Marissa, a silent rage. Still seated she stares right back at him, unaffected.

Erik wants to yank Marissa by the collar and throw her outside, but he knows that if he does this it will cause major problems. Instead he takes a deep breath and blankly says,

“Y/n, could you let Marissa and I talk alone? Please?”

You blink, and turn your head to Marissa. She nods, and watches as you hesitantly walk out, Erik closing the door behind you.

Now they are both alone, in complete silence. Marissa turns back to the piano, deciding that it was more important than the man behind her.

He bites his cheek and walks up to her, standing beside her.

“What are your intentions with my sister?”

“My intentions?”

He glares at her. “Yes. Intentions.”

The woman glances at him and replies coolly, “Other than to love her, I have none.”

He purses his lips until they’re white.

“Don’t bullshit me.”

Marissa’s eyes snap to his. “Watch your tone. I’m still your handler, whether you like it or not.”

“If you actually cared about that, you wouldn’t be dating Y/n.”

She stands to full height, bearing her teeth at him. “And if you actually cared about Y/n, you’d let her be happy.”

His nostrils flare. “I do care about her and her happiness, which is why I’m telling you to leave her alone. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt, Marissa.”

“Exactly, which is why I’m not going to end things with her.”

Erik’s eyes shrink into slits as he glares at her, his cheek hollowed.

He was about to say more, when a knock echoes in the room. Both individuals turn to look as the door opens, and in comes you.

“Darling.” Marissa says fondly, reaching a hand out for you to take, which you do. Erik’s eye twitches.

“You can’t stay with her, Y/n.”

Your eyes couldn’t have possibly rolled any further. “Why?”

Marissa wraps an arm around your waist. He stares at it before continuing, “Both of you could lose your jobs if you get caught.”

“That’s if someone reports us. And nobody else besides you, knows.”

Erik heard the unspoken question, and exhaled loudly, rubbing his face.

“I–… I won’t report you. But I need to know. Are you– are you happy?”

“I am. I promise you I am, Erik.” You’re quick to answer.

He observes to see if you’re telling him a lie, but Erik doesn’t see any signs of one. His shoulder slump,

“Fine. Marissa,” the woman raises an eyebrow at him, “you can date Y/n. I won’t get in your way.”

“Even if you did, I would still be with her anyways.”

“Yes well, you won’t have to worry about me.”

You audibly sigh of relief, gazing at Marissa who’s looking at your brother, unsure. You squeeze her hand comfortingly, and she squeezes back.

Her clears his throat, uncomfortable.

“Right, I’m gonna go. I’ll talk to you later, Y/n.”

You reply with an ‘okay’, as he leaves the room, then the apartment when you hear the front door close and lock.

You feel your hand being lifted, and you turn to Marissa to see her raising your hand to her lips, kissing the back of your hand softly. “Are you okay sweetheart?”

“Mhm. That was just really stressful.”

You chuckle without humor, more with fatigue. Marissa toys with your hand.

“…you really think he won’t tell anyone?”

“He’s my brother, and while he can be an ass, he cares for me nonetheless. He wouldn’t purposefully put me in harms way.”

You reassure her, pecking her cheek.

“And he’s fine with the fact that you…. that you date…”

“Women?” You finish for her.

“Yes. In fact, he’s met many of my girlfriends before. At first it was a bit weird for him but–“

Marissa zones out.

Girlfriends? Many? She wasn’t your first? How many were before her? Does she have competition–

“Marissa? Hello?”

Her ginger hair shakes as she snaps out of it. “Sorry darling, lost in thought.”

You huff, the corners of your mouth pulled up. “Anyways, he doesn’t have an issue with me being with women. So, now that that’s out of the way, are you hungry? I could make us something.”

You pull on her hand, dragging her out the office and towards the kitchen, a familiar pep in your step. You ramble on about what you should cook, and Marissa smiles.

It doesn’t matter if she wasn’t your first, she will be your last if Marissa has anything to say about it.

Sixth Intention:

You can’t focus on any of the words in front of you. For the past hour, you have tried reading the same page over and over, but the words just keep jumbling together, no matter how hard you try to understand it.

It also doesn’t help that for the past hour, Marissa has been staring you down. Though you can tell she isn’t focused either, because if she was, she would’ve teased you for being on the same page for so long.

Finally deciding to take a break, you shut the book without saving the page, slightly irritated.

Marissa blinks at the noise, and her eyes meet yours. “Is there something on your mind, Má lásko?” (My love.)

She doesn’t respond right away, head angled in a way that makes her hair somewhat shield her eyes.

“You could say that.” You dubiously gaze at her. Your eyes travel down, and you see her fiddling with her shirt, looking apprehensive.

All of a sudden she jumps to her feet, and quickly sits next to you on the couch. Your body flinches backwards a bit.

“I want to speak with you about something.” Oh that’s never a good way to start a sentence. You swallow, before nodding your head, urging her to continue.

“So we’ve been together for over a year now, and– uhm.”

You have never seen her so unsure of herself. You reach a hand out to grasp her arm, rubbing it up and down.

She takes a shaky breath before continuing, “I wanted to– I was wondering if– ugh.”

Marissa seems to be frustrated with her stuttering, and exhales emphatically.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her rapidly beating heart slows at your words and she hastily says,

“I wanted to give you this.”

She reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a small box. Your lungs stop.

Wobbly pale hands carefully open the box, and there sits a black ring with a bright ruby jewel in the middle. Your e/c eyes go as wide as humanly possible, and your whole body freezes.

The ginger haired woman sees your struggle and blurts, “I know that legally, we can’t get married. But I love you, and even if the world wouldn’t acknowledge us as wives, I want us to.”

You still haven’t moved, eyes trained on the ring in front of you. Marissa was about to call out your name, shake you, anything to get your attention. But she didn’t need to, as you suddenly burst into laughter.

Marissa can physically feel her heart hurt, and the hopeful look in her eyes, quickly diminished. “I-I know. It was silly.”

Your giggles die down, and you immediately feel awful when you open your eyes to see her solemn face.

“Nononono, that’s not why I was laughing. Hold on, give me a second-“

She watches as you rush out the living room, and she hears you unzip your bag. The woman can’t help but feel agitation grow in her. What the fuck are you doing?

You zoom back to her side, holding an item in your hand. Her blue eyes turn to sauciers when she sees it’s a small box. You grin at her expression, a snicker escaping from you.

You open the box, and Marissa sees a gorgeous silver ring, with an emerald jem. A slight parallel to the ring she presented you.

“This is why I was laughing. We had the same idea.” You say gently.

You peer at her as she processes the information, then you fall back on the couch with an ‘oof’ when she tackles you.

“Don’t ever do that shit again. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

She speaks into your collarbone, as you brush your fingers in her short hair.

“Yeah well you nearly about stopped mine when you pulled out your ring.”

“You had the same idea!”

“Precisely why I was so shocked.”

The older woman groans on your chest, then lifts her head up to glare at you. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.” You grin cheekily.

Rolling her blue orbs, she sits back up pulling you with her. She grabs the box that had fallen on the couch, and reopens it. “We’ll have to wear them on our right hand. It would be best that people at work doesn’t make the connection.”

You offer you right hand to her with a nod, and she slips the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly.

You take out the silver ring, and slide it on her own right finger. She gazes at it tenderly. “Do you like it?” You ask.

You spent so long looking for the perfect ring for Marissa, so you were a bit anxious if you made the right decision.

“Of course I love it, just like I love you.”

Her lips launch onto yours and you smile. You never wanted to stop kissing her. You would rather die of suffocation.

Though it seems Marissa wants to do a bit more than kiss.

She shoves you back down on the couch and wraps your legs around her hips. You gasp when she presses into your center, and she takes full advantage of it, devouring your mouth.

You reluctantly pull away and open your eyes. She looks so beautiful. Her lips plump and pink from your rough kissing, her pupils dilated, and a dark blush spread about her cheeks.

She kisses you once more, before sneaking her hands under your shirt and taking it off your torso….

Final Intention:

“They are children Marissa! Infants!”

The blue eyed woman clenches her jaw, shutting her eyes forcefully. Your teary gaze bores into her, and she can’t seem to look at you.

Her silence makes you feel even worse.

Your e/c eyes look off, and you hug yourself tightly.

“It would be one thing if we just–just let the women do what they had wanted. If we didn’t give them the chance to bond with their children.”

Pausing to take a shaky breath, you resume.

“But we did. And you’re just going to kill them, and their kids, without even batting an eye?!”

“It’s what my higher ups want. I can’t do anything.” She states from her desk, standing behind it. As if it’s a barrier, that’s shields her from you.

The calmness in her tone chills you to the bone. Her icy orbs still don’t look into yours, and you become fearful.

“Of course you can! There’s always something!”

“Well not this time Y/n!”

You gape at her in disbelief.

“How can you expect us to–to have a family if you can just do this without remorse?”

The ring on your finger starts to feel very cold.

Marissa exhales shakily. She focuses anywhere else but at you, your gaze making her feel somewhat sick.

“Y/n I-“

You cut her off, ferocious.

“And what about Johanna?!”

That’s when her eyes finally snap to yours. You ignore the shiver that comes upon you, “She has bonded so much with little Hanna, and so have I! We can’t just take that away!”

Marissa mutters something under her breath, and you demand that she speaks up.

“I bet you have bonded with her. Johanna I mean.” She says bitterly.

The laugh that escapes you, wasn’t humorous. It was exasperated.

“You’re bringing this up, now? You’re fucking kidding me Marissa.”

Her glare doesn’t falter.

Frustration fills you to a point where a headache starts to form in your skull.

“You are mine, not hers.” She growls, leaning towards you from behind her desk. The words that usually would leave you with a tingling sensation in your body, only made you feel queasy.

You step farther away, hands gripping your sides in a vice grip.

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again. She’s. Just. A. Friend. Nothing is going on between us!”

“Does she think that?”

You want to scream.

“Fucking hell Marissa. Even IF she didn’t, that wouldn’t matter! Because I-“

Choking, the words that usually come so easily to you, can’t seem to come out. You sigh, closing your eyes. Reaching to pinch the bridge of your nose, you open them again.

“Marissa,” You look into the eyes that you’ve grown to love. “Please, please, reconsider.”

Pursing her lips, she glares down at the files on her desk. That action made you nervous, and you could feel the unease bubbling in your gut.

“There’s nothing to reconsider. It’s already confirmed. They just need to finalize it.”

Fresh tears fall from your eyes, and your lips tremble. You play your last card.

“The Marissa I love, wouldn’t care.”

Her eyes don’t move from the files.

She doesn’t even flinch.

“The Marissa I love, would find a way. Even if it meant losing her job. Even if it meant going against her superiors.”

She still doesn’t move. And your legs feel as though they could give at any moment.

Silence surrounds you both for a while, and you become anxious.

You were about to say something else, anything else to convince her.

When she finally looked up at you.

Her blue eyes stoically bore into you,

“Then maybe I’m not the Marissa you love anymore.”

Your world comes crashing down. It feels like you’ve been doused in cold water, and you can feel every bit of hope disappear.

Laughing wetly, you run a hand through your hair.

“Erik was right. Go figure.”

Marissa’s eyes widen with your words, as you storm off to the bedroom. Her heels clack noisily as she rushes after you. “What do you mean by that?”

You move past her, grabbing things from the dresser. “You know he isn’t your biggest fan. Figure it out.”

Anger flashes through Marissa as she thinks about your brother, and what he could’ve told you.

She sees you pulling out your bag, and stuffing your things inside.

Dread fills her.

“Darling what– what are you doing?”

Not answering her question, you go into the bathroom to take your essentials.

When you walk back in, Marissa is frantically unpacking your bag, her hair obstructing her face from your view.

You suck in your cheek, striding towards her. You grab her wrists, trying to stop her, but she struggles against your hold.

“Marissa-“ She still struggles.

“Marissa!” Her eyes flash to yours.

What you see, surprises you. Tears are trailing down her face, and her mouth is pulled into somewhat of a snarl. This is the first emotion she has exhibited to you this entire time.

You feel sick.

Exhaling shakily she says in a small voice, “You can’t–you can’t leave.”

Loosening your grip, you slightly soften at her words. “I’m sorry.”

Feeling her go limp under your hands, you sigh in relief as she seems to calm down.

Then her hands shoot up to grab either sides of your jaw, pulling you into a fierce kiss. Her lips are wet against yours, and you hear her whimper. The band on her right hand feels cool on your hot skin, and you instinctually kiss her back.

Kissing Marissa always leaves you with a feeling of longing, or lust.

But this time, this kiss is full of raw emotion. Desperation.

Her hands are tight around your face, and her tongue pushes past your lips forcefully.

She licks into your mouth, moving her hands down your body to your hips. A traitorous moan comes from your throat, and you want to yell at yourself.

You shouldn’t be letting her do this.

You shouldn’t be giving either of you false hope.

You shouldn’t even be here right now.

When she tries to push your body onto the bed behind you, that’s when you gain some sanity back.

Ripping your mouth away from hers, she whimpers again, lips chasing after you. You raise your hands to her chest to push her away.

“Stop it. Please.” Your eyes look off in shame. How could you let her do this?

Marissa makes a noise of disagreement when you duck under her arms, and grab the stuff she’s unpacked. Putting them back into your bag messily, the woman next to you seems to be frozen in place.

The sound of you zipping up your backpack, makes her physically shake her head, her ginger hair swaying with the movement. Her eyes flash with panic as you walk out the room, and to the front door of her apartment.

Hastily, she grabs your right hand with hers. Your rings brush against eachother, and you look down at them. Tears form in your eyes again when she speaks.

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

Her distressed tone makes your heart break.

“I’ll–I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Just please don’t go.”

Inhaling sharply, you continue to look down at her emerald ring.

“You know what I’ll ask for.”

Marissa chews her bottom lip, her sharp white teeth coming into view.

“I-I can’t do that.”

Nodding your head slowly, you sniffle. Glancing to the side you say with finality, “Goodbye, Marissa.”

Pulling your hand out her grip, you begin to open the front door. Helplessly she stutters out,

“But–But I love you.”

Pausing in the doorway, you don’t turn to look at her. Because if you do, you’ll give in. You’ll give in to her gorgeous face, and sweet words.

In most arguments you both have had, you were unable to stay angry long. You would eventually scoop her up in your arms, kiss her face, and coddle her until the tears dried and the tension eased.

But this isn’t like your usual arguments.

It’s the lives of mothers and their children at stake.

Of Johanna and little Hanna.

You wouldn’t be able to live with it. With the guilt. Not even with Marissa.

“And I loved you.”

You swallow, taking a second to think.

“….I’ll send in my resignation in the morning.”

Shutting the door behind you, you walk away. Away from the CIA. Away from her.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

So heyyyyy…… I know this is so freaking late. Like valentines was over a week ago, but life’s been a bit messy. I apologize.

Though I’m quite proud of this.

This is just meant to be a cute, or sad backstory for Marissa and Y/n.

So I really hope y’all enjoy, and I will continue posting as soon as I have some free time! Have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night wherever you are! ☺️ ~ derangeduser

[thirstworldproblemss]

Happy 2022! Looking forward to more of your writing this year.

Kiiiitty!! 🥰🥰 Happy New Year to you as well!! <3

I'll see what I can do about getting more writing posted (maybe before 2023, if I'm lucky? 😅)

I'm also looking forward to reading more of your writing, and lucky for me, I have Caught In Between (your new Erik Heller x female reader x Stephen Holder threesome fic) stashed in my drafts to be read first thing Tuesday morning as soon as I have packed the kidlets back off to school and have 5 consecutive minutes to hear myself think

[babblydrabbly]

Welcome! Below are any fics, headcanons, imagines, or little blurbs I've written for this blog. I've put a ♥ next to ones I'm particularly proud of :) Comments and reblogs are highly encouraged and appreciated! Thank you so much for reading.

I do not give permission for my work to be translated or reposted.

My Info • My AO3 • My askbox • My Reading List 2021

Joel Kinnaman Character Masterlist

Click for:

Takeshi Kovacs (Altered Carbon)

Stephen Holder (The Killing)

Erik Heller (Hanna)

Any Joel Poly!ships

SUCIDE SQUAD Rick Flag

Rick Flag Fic Masterlist

Rick Flag Drabble Masterlist

Rick Flag Bingo Card Masterlist

Harley Quinn

Fics:

Water Wings (Smut)

Sunshine, Rainbows, and Lollipops (General)

Kinks and All (Smut, polyship w/ rick flag)

Drabbles/Prompts:

“Why are you creeping…” (General)

Headcanons:

Butts vs. Boobs (Smut, Kinks and All verse)

Digger Harkness/Boomerang

Fics:

Still My Kind (Smut)

You Don't Have to Be More (Mature)

Drabbles/Prompts:

“Do you take…” (General)

Cleo Cazo/Ratcatcher II

Imagines/headcanons:

 Kindness (x)

Fics:

You Were in the Darkness Too Pt. I (General)

You Were in the Darkness Too Pt. II (General)

Robert DuBois/Bloodsport

Fics:

Talk to me (Smut)

Abner Krill/Polka Dot Man

Requests:

A Welcome Home (General)

Poly!Squad / Squad Imagines

Fics

Kinks and All (Smut, Harley Quinn x F!Reader x Rick Flag) ♥

Requests:

'You look so fucking cute...' Peacemaker x Reader x Vigilante (Gen)

Imagines/Headcanons:

Bloodsport x Reader x Peacemaker (Smut)

Tattoo Shop!AU (General, AU)

Crying Reactions - Poly!Squad x Neutral!Reader (General)

Rick Flag x Reader x Abner Krill (General, Red Lantern!Reader) headcanons

Peacemaker (HBO)

Christopher Smith/Peacemaker

Fics:

Distracted (Smut)

Welcome Home Party (General)

Good Times Ain't Hard to Find (Smut)

Vigilante/Adrian Chase

Fics:

The Crazy is Mutual (Smut)

Isn’t It Funny (General)

Request/Drabbles:

"We really need to stop meeting like this..." (General)

"Whatever you do..." (General)

I don't care what others say" (General, Mature)

"Abort mission!" (General)

"...It's you" (General)

Emilia Harcourt

Fics:

Second Chance (Gen)

Requests/Drabbles

'You weren't supposed to hear that...' (General)

Steve Rogers (MCU)

Fics:

In the Margins (General)

Eddie Brock (Venom)

Fics:

Safety First (Smut, Eddie x f!reader x Venom)

Stumbling (General, Eddie x !freader; Eddie x Venom)

Peter Parker (MCU)

Fics:

There for you (Smut)

Peter Parker (TASM)

Fics:

Can't We Be Friends? (General)

[loverhymeswith]

"Don't give me that look" with Erik Heller, please!

Don't Give Me That Look | Erik Heller x Reader

Part Two

Warnings: Mention of injury

Joel Taglist: @weallhaveadestiny @a-reader-and-a-writer @11thstreetvigilante @skvatnavle @christinasyellowflowers @yespolkadotkitty @bewitchedignition @fairchildflag @lavenderluna10 @heresathreebee

Despite your gentle touch, Erik flinches, his face drawn with pain.

“I thought you said it didn’t hurt?” You quickly withdraw your hand and with it, the cotton dressing that you were pressing over the open wound above his hip.

“It doesn’t,” he grits out in a wholly unconvincing attempt to reassure you. There’s a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across his creased brow and his knuckles have turned white where they grip the arms of the wooden chair.

“You’ve always been a terrible liar, Heller.” Reaching for a fresh dressing, you give him a moment to compose himself. The bleeding seems to have stopped, but you want to make sure the wound is covered - anything to reduce the risk of infection until you can force him to seek proper medical assistance. In your experience, that part will be far more difficult than removing the bullet in the first place.

“You’ve called me much worse,” he chuckles but his voice is rough and rasping.

You temper down the fear that it may be too late - that an infection could already have set in. “I’m sure I have. Now, are you ready for me to try again?”

He nods stiffly and this time you persevere, fixing the wide bandage in place with two strips of tape. The safe house might not be much to look at from the inside or out, but at least it came with an adequately stocked first aid supply - a necessity in his line of work.

“Danke,” Erik tells you, his broad palm covering your own hand before you can pull away from his bare chest. “I appreciate you staying. You didn’t have to.”

You drag your gaze from his scar-flecked fingers. “I was hardly going to leave you to bleed out.”

His hazel eyes flick up to meet yours, lingering pain and some other conflicting emotion evident in his gaze. “I would have deserved it.”

You shake your head, trying to focus on anything but the feeling of his warm skin against your own. It’s a dangerous line that you’re treading here. Even after all this time, his touch still has the power to break you. “You’ve made your fair share of mistakes, Erik, but you don’t deserve to die.”

“I hurt you.”

You shrug off his statement, wishing you could pretend it wasn’t true. Wishing that it hadn’t broken you when he disappeared. That he hadn’t crushed your heart and left you to bleed out. “That was a long time ago.”

“But you still haven’t forgiven me.”

The heat of his gaze is too much. You look away. He’s only been back in your life for a handful of days, and already your feelings for him are complicated.

When you don’t immediately reply, Erik squeezes your hand. You glance back to find him watching you intently. A muscle in his jaw ticks and you fight the urge to run your fingers along the sharp planes of his handsome face.

“I don’t expect your forgiveness,” he continues. “That is far more than I deserve. I just want you to know I’m grateful that you are here.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond. It would be so easy to fall into this familiar trap. After a beat of silence, you settle for the truth. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re OK.”

The hint of a smile tugs at Erik’s mouth, his eyes lighting up with something akin to relief. The pain is still there, but so too is hope. It transforms him from handsome to downright beautiful and you feel your resolve begin to weaken.

“Don’t give me that look,” you warn him, almost breathlessly. You can’t do this again. You won’t. But when he tugs on your hand, your traitorous body allows him to draw you down onto his lap.

“If we only have this small amount of time, at least let me show you how much I missed you.”

[babblydrabbly]

You wonder what his story is. When you look over at him, you find that he’s already gazing at you, but as soon as he notices you, he averts his eyes and drinks his coffee.

My heart stuttered straight up.

He looks impossibly handsome like this, his messy beard tidied into a thick stubble, his hair combed, but it’s definitely Stephen. No one else has that mischievous glint in their brown eyes, that hint of naughty in their smile. A reformed bad boy, and he’s yours.

This is a perfect description for Stephen in a suit.

You love seeing him like this, unsullied by the dark web of the things people do to each other, the things he has to see day to day in his line of work.

Beautiful!

“I’m sayin’…” He tugs you up a little closer so his mouth is by your ear. “I’m sayin’, for the first time in a fuckin’ long time, I feel secure. Ya know? You love me. I mean, who wouldn’t love me?”

@yespolkadotkitty You characterize Holder so well. I love that he's happy to make reader happy, but I also love that it stems from this place of trust. Its so beautiful! The pacing of this whole story is structured wonderfully by the way <3

And the smut??? The supply closet scene was hot enough but that ending!

Oh God, I finally did it and it’s HERE.

Really this started out as a gift for @loverhymeswith and then took on a life of its own. A sweet, 100% consensual threesome.

Summary: You live happily with your boyfriend, Detective Stephen Holder, and when he brings home a wounded CI, the dynamic shifts ~ Words: 6780 ~ Warnings: Holy shit smut. Threesome, handjobs, semi-public sex, oral sex, P in V sex ~ Pairing: Erik Heller x female reader x Stephen Holder

————

You’ve been living with Stephen for about six months when it happens.

You’re at home on the couch, eating the leftover cookies from the cupboard and idly scrolling through the ‘gram, thinking about the weekend.

You’ve been invited to a fancy shindig, the engagement party of Caroline and her hotshot DA boyfriend, and OMG you’re looking forward to seeing Stephen in a suit.

The sound of pounding on the door of your apartment makes you jerk in surprise. You get to your feet and open the door, wondering if you ordered takeout and had a brainfart afterwards, forgetting, but the sight that greets you makes your mouth gape in surprise.

Stephen stands framed in the architrave of the door, supporting another man. Blood soaks his shirt and he looks pale, ghostly so, even more than Stephen, which is saying something.

“Fuck-” You manage to get out and you half step, half stagger backwards.

Keep reading

[heresathreebee]

A Southward Breeze

On the first of each month, each member of the GFS will write a Drabble of 1k words or less based on a selected prompt and using a character played by Joel Kinnaman.

May 2022's Prompt Is: "The problem is,” he said as he leaned in, “if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

Fifteen years ago, Erik Heller had almost kissed you. It was a mindless thought– an impulsive urge that sprung upon him as he held your face gently in his hands. He could not recall what he had even been excited about– the only thing that lingered was the thought of the color of your eyes and how close your mouth was to his own. He remembered dashing it away and feeling tingly for the rest of that mission. And then he never saw you again. 

You and Erik used to cross paths often, almost as if you were bound to one another pulled together again and again by an invisible thread. He was not entirely oblivious to the warmth of your feelings towards him (perhaps to the depth, though). You hardly spoke a word and yet you managed to convey to this sovereign, efficient assassin that you would protect him, support him, mourn for him if it ever came to that. Yours affection for one another was a rarity in your line of work. 

And then… nothing. For fifteen years. 

It was not beyond Erik's ability to seek you out, to find you in some hidden place anywhere around the world (he was in fact quite confident in his tracking ability even when it came to you). He simply… did not. 

And it baffled even him, how he could simply dismiss the long-standing companionship that had grown between the two of you. But sometimes life takes you in vastly different directions and pulls apart the strongest of bonds. Did you think of him still? A part of him feels ashamed for having not thought of you in years. He had missed you though, sometimes more than he was willing to admit to himself.

There came a day one sunny afternoon in Paris when he stood out from the balcony of his temporary lodgings and surveyed the scenery. The bustling streets, the scent of gasoline and fresh cooked food wafting in the air. He spotted a flashing gold and looked to his left to find a figure a few apartments away, also basking in the picture perfect weather of today. He could not make out her face, but a sense of longing settle deep into his bones as the shape of the person reminded him of you. 

Before he even realizes it, Erik is trotting down the steps to his lodgings and barrelling through the streets. The crowd is so thick it's like pushing through an ocean wave, but he pressed on through the masses with French apologies on his lips and brusque focus. Finally he reaches the sidewalk of your– he doesn't know if it is really you– the stranger's apartments. He climbs the stairs taking them two by two in his haste and wondering if he had finally lost any sense he had previously. Was he simply going mad? 

He counted the doors inward and found the door that had to belong to the correct balcony. It is here that he pauses, drawing in breaths and winded from his short sprint. Not another thought passed through his head as he reached for the knocker and made it clang, the noise seemed almost explosive in the reumy quiet of the hallway. 

What would he say or do? It might not even be… and if it was actually you? What will he say or do? 

"Who is it?," came a voice that lilted like a song. He thought he would never hear that beautiful voice again. He was unable to speak his own name, so overwhelmed with the concept that perhaps you did not wish to see him. 

The door fairly flew open and there you stood– a wayside gun in your other hand and a look of pure shock on your face. "Erik?!" 

You must have checked the peephole when he didn't answer and recognized his face. It was you. A loose robe hung from your shoulder with a metallic gold pattern that gave the illusion of being inlaid with sapphires and emeralds. Your freed hair and your comfy slippers made you a picture of domesticity– a quality of life that neither of you had thought possible in your line of work. 

"Ich kann es nicht glauben…" Erik exclaimed in disbelief, "it really is you." 

Head empty of all thoughts, Erik stepped towards you. Instantly he is wrapped in your scent– kitchen herbs and spices cling to you over your favorite perfume and Erik's jacket falls to the floor swiftly. He slides his hands to cup your cheeks delicately, as if he is afraid you will disapparate before him. He enters your home towering over you and looking like a treasure hunter who found gold. 

"Mein Schatz," he gently shushed you as water filled your wide eyes. "I have missed you…so so much." 

With the weight of how he felt now, Erik suddenly balked at how he had ever gone a day without thought of you. Feeling the warmth of your skin in his hands thrust upon him a deep, guttural ache as if a hole he had always known in his heart was suddenly overflowing. He could see something similar fluttering in your own expression. One of your hands gripped his wrist so hard it hurt. 

Finally a tear escaped and tracked shimmering down your cheek. "Erik… you're here. You're alive."  

And I will never leave again, he thought, if you'll have me. 

"I thought I would never see you again," you confessed. 

Erik's drew his face closer to yours until your noses brushed together just as they had all those years ago. There were streaks of silver in your hair now and lines on your face that weren't there before. He wants to see your whole head turn white as you grow old together… 

"Are you going to kiss me, Erik?," you ask with an air of teasing hopefulness. 

"The problem is,” he said as he leaned in, “if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

He can feel the sigh you realize– it breezes over his chin and your chest shudders against his own. "I don't think I want you to ever stop." 

At this, he smiles. When his lips press against yours, the kiss is hard and long, filled with the weight of an everlasting love you never thought would come to light. And for the rest of your days, that is how every kiss from Erik felt– exactly like the first time in a long time. 

The End

Tags: @yespolkadotkitty @lacontroller1991  @a-reader-and-a-writer   @edwardbaldwin @loverhymeswith @madkovacs @maddu-oliveira @babblydrabbly @klmurr @fairchildflag i think thats everybody?

[maddu-oliveira]

WIP Title Tag Name

thank you for tagging me @lacontroller1991

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet or tell you something about it!

No Longer Fictional (Erik Heller x Writer!Reader Pt. 2)

Do Mi Ti (Rick Flag x Metahuman!Reader)

Here Comes The Po-Po (Stephen Holder x FBI Agent!Reader)

Labyrinth: Mind (Steven Grant/Marc Spector x OC)

tagging: @a-reader-and-a-writer @wtfobiwan @bewitchedignition

[derangeduser]

Equivocal Intentions

Hanna (2011) Fanfiction

Summary: When Erik Heller Johanna Zadeck ran away with little Hanna in tow, they also took along Erik’s little sister, Y/n, who has a rocky history with a certain C.I.A. agent. We’ll go on from there..

Marissa Wiegler x Erik’s Sister!Reader

Warnings for this chapter: Cursing, violence, and death

(Key isn’t needed, as this only briefly mentions reader, she’ll show up again in later chapters promise!)

Quick disclaimer!

I do not own the story Hanna, nor the characters, this is just an adaption with a reader insert.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Chapter Four

-Present Day-

Marissa, being driven on a cart, is talking on the phone.

“The targets escaped.”

Targets? Plural?

“How did that happen?”

“We were thinking Erik Heller got away in the thick snow, or-“

The woman begins to talk over him.

“One man. One operation. Just find him Lewis. Find him and bring him to me.”

“But he’s in the wind, and now I have four men dead, and three delirious. They’re all saying a woman attacked them, but she got away. Visibility was shit.”

Marissa thought she misheard him for a second, all air left her lungs.

“There was a kid -“

The woman could’ve collapsed.

“Things got out of our control. I’d like to see how you would’ve done it differently.”

She doesn’t respond, feeling somewhat of a ringing in her ear.

They weren’t supposed to know about you.

“Wiegler?”

The ringing grows louder.

And a girl? She’s really going to have to play her cards right.

“Wiegler? Are you there?”

Then the ringing dissipates.

“Where is she now?”

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Hanna wakes up on a stiff bed, lights on the ceiling blinding her for a moment. She’s now somewhat cleaned up, and is dressed in uncomfortable orange clothes. The girl squints, before sitting up slowly. As she does, she notices a man sitting in a chair across from her, with smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Hello Hanna.” He says, his face stuck with that one expression.

“Hello.”

“My name is Dr. Burton. Would you like to talk to me?”

Hanna now sits straight up, her legs dangling off the cot.

“I was told by my father to gain the upper hand.”

“That’s very interesting. What else did your father tell you?”

“Where am I?” She asks instead of answering, looking around her.

“You’re in holding.”

“I’ve never been in a room like this. It’s cement.”

“That’s right. This must all be very strange for you. How long have you been in the forest?”

“As long as I can remember.”

“Interesting. Were there other people there?”

Hanna’s blue eyes seem to stare up at the ceiling. He follows her eye-line to the cameras around them.

“Is that a camera?”

“Uh-huh. It’s taking our picture right now. How does that make you feel?”

Remembering her aunt’s lessons she speaks, “Camera Obscura, it’s Latin for ‘dark chamber’.”

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

“You should have visual on the psych evaluation now.”

Lewis says to Marissa, as she sits alone in the Langley observation room. Its late at night there in America. The only light coming from the screen in front of her.

On the screen, shows Hanna in the interrogation room, and Marissa watches intently.

“It was first described by the Arabic scientist Ibn Alhazen in the year 1021.”

Marissa raises a manicured eyebrow, swearing that she’s heard that fact before. She comes back to the present, and studies the blank face of Hanna.

On the screen, Dr. Burton continues to probe.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Dr. Burton continues to smile at Hanna,

“Can I get you something? What do you like? Music? Magazines? Just say the word. Anything at all.”

Hanna sits still, her face looks as if it’s stuck in one emotion. Which is no emotion at all. Her mouth, however, quietly says,

“I want to speak with Marissa Wiegler.”

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Marissa sits up.

“Tell her I’ll be there tonight.”

“I can handle this.”

Lewis is really getting on Marissa’s nerves.

“Just do as you’re told.” She orders, irritated.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Hanna sits on her cot, her back slightly hunched, and her legs still dangling off it. She hears the door open.

She hears the clicking of heels, and the heavy boots of a guard.

“My name is Marissa Wiegler. You wanted to speak with me?”

Hanna looks up as the woman sits down next to her. She sees a smartly dressed woman, with fiery red hair that is cut short into a bob.

It’s a completely different woman, dressed in similar clothing as Marissa, but it’s not her.

The blond haired girl doesn’t respond, and looks towards the guard by the door.

The false Marissa follows her eyes and says to him, “You can wait outside.”

The guard nods and exits, leaving the two in the room alone, save for the cameras surrounding them.

Now that the guard is gone Hanna quietly asks, “Where am I?”

She stares directly into the false Marissa’s eyes, awaiting her response.

“You are in a safe place sweetie.”

Hanna’s not convinced.

“Where did you meet my father?”

The false Marissa pauses.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

The false Marissa pauses, looking at Hanna. There’s a tiny microphone in her ear. The real Marissa immediately tells her,

“Erik. I met him by a news kiosk in Alexanderplatz, East Berlin. Say it was raining. He had just arrived from Prague.”

Marissa couldn’t mention you. She couldn’t. If they find out you are alive, it could fuck up everything.

She hears her copy repeat her words to the girl.

“You mean Erik?”

Hanna nods.

“Yes. I met him at a news kiosk. Alexanderplatz. In the rain. He had just arrived from Prague.”

Lewis watches as he gets a call from the military laboratory.

“Go ahead.”

“Sir we’ve completed the tests on the girl.”

“Who authorized tests?” Marissa cuts in, still watching as the false version of her questions Hanna.

“Do you know where your father is?”

Lewis, half watching the screen, talked into the intercom. “I authorized them. Blood, urinalysis, hair. It’s all standard.”

Eyes still unmoving from the screen Marissa orders, “Send the results directly to me.”

“Walt and Bob-“

“If Walt and Bob come asking, send them to me.”

Before Lewis can even try to deny her once more, the voice of the fake rings through the speakers.

“Did he tell you where he was going? We’re all worried about him.”

Hanna starts to cry all of a sudden.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

The girl has tears streaming down her face, she looks distraught. The false Marissa, in an attempt to possibly comfort the girl, puts a hand on her arm.

That’s not enough for Hanna, so she proceeds to hug the fake ferociously, arms and legs around her as she cries.

“Agent keep your distance.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” The false Marissa tries to comfort the girl, though with an alarmed look on her face.

Hanna tightens her arms around the fakes neck, her tears soaking the woman’s blazer.

The false Marissa looks up into one of the cameras, concerned.

“You want me to give her something?”

Hanna continues to weep, her grip tightening.

“I think that may be necessary.” The fake says as she rubs the girl’s back stiffly.

Hanna hears heavy, almost frantic, footsteps outside the door. She grips even tighter around the fakes neck.

Then suddenly she pulls back, and with horrifying efficiency, snaps the woman’s neck in one swift movement.

That’s when the guards come in.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Y’all I am so sorry for the lack of updates. I went through something recently and wasn’t doing the best so I needed a bit longer. This chapter is short and I’m sorry for that too, but more will come soon I swear.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a great morning, afternoon, evening, or night wherever you are! ~ derangeduser