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jjenthusee · 5 months ago

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Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Angst, hurt no comfort

The sun was blinding. White light that burned against the skin of your eyelids trying to shield your eyes.

A couple blinks helped to adjust your senses, but you could only squint long enough to try to look at your surroundings.

Trees. Seats. The inside of a truck?

You sat up straighter. Your fast movements disorienting your mind, but you swiveled your head nonetheless. Pushing away the sudden motion sickness.

It was the interior of a truck. Your family pickup.

You hadn’t seen it in ages after your family sold it off when you were thirteen.

A sickening nostalgic feeling constricting your throat. You turned your head to look out the window of the backseat.

You were moving.

Endless trees were passing you, almost in a blur. It was home like you were back driving through the backroads, but this looked like a freeway.

You were sitting with the windows rolled up, but you could practically smell the outside. The smell of the almost red dirt and the sound of the trees wiggling against the wind.

It reminded you of when your life was only about getting dirt in your shoes and your mom would nag about the stains on them.

“—ug.”

Huh? Dad?

“Bug, can you feel the air?”

Your dad’s voice reverberated through you. Your throat burning as you listened to the familiar nickname. The way his voice was delicate whenever he used it.

You looked forward expecting to see the front of the vehicle, but it was more fog. You wanted to rub your eyes hoping they would readjust and you could see your dad rather than only hear him.

But the blurriness stayed.

“It’s too hot, I can’t believe you forgot the cooler.”

Your mother’s voice echoed from the passenger seat, finally stabilizing when she finished talking.

The firmness still familiar and prominent.

“I told you that I’m sorry, I thought I put it in the backseat.”

You smiled hearing your parents bicker. It never failed that a roadtrip started with them arguing with each other. It was harmless banter, but it warmed your chest to hear both of their voices intertwined again.

Like a fog had cleared, the backs of your parents became more visible. Their silhouettes morphing into their all too familiar clothes and hair. Your dad driving and your mom sitting next to him with the usual grace she carried.

So many memories spent watching your parents from the backseat. You remembered you would move to the middle of the seats to perfectly balance seeing both of your parents, the sides of their faces barely visible, but it was also the perfect spot to get the best wave of cool air from the AC.

You saw the endless road through the front windshield. No traffic and the road closed in by the trees. It was just you and your parents like old times.

A sudden chill ran through you. Your arms shivered.

The truck was old, but it was sturdy. Your dad was very particular about the maintenance, so it kept kicking through the years. Maybe the AC was just strong?

“—u’re okay. You’ll be fine.”

Another voice chimed in, but when you turned to your parents they were still going back and forth, not paying attention to you.

A sharp sting pricked your right shoulder. The pain felt like a needle poling you, but it started to burn and the pain took over. It traveled down to your arm and fingers.

Your cries alerted your parents and your mom looked over her shoulder with concern.

“What’s wrong—“

You couldn’t form an answer as you clenched your shoulder with your left hand. Trying your best to somehow lessen the pain.

You looked down to assess the injury. You were in a GCPD vest and a red hoodie? What an interesting combo.

“Don’t you close your eyes, you fucking idiot.”

A harsh voice floated around you. It made your head hurt.

What in the world was going on?

Sweat formed on your forehead ready to drop down to your eyebrow.

Your entire right arm going numb. Well, now that was bad.

“I can’t feel my arm.”

You looked up to your mom. Slow panic blooming on her face.

“Shit, honey, you have to pull over.”

“There’s a semi behind us, we have to let it pass then—“

“Just put on the hazards! We have to pull over.”

They were arguing again, more about their concern for you, but you wanted to laugh at the situation. How long has it been since someone had reacted to you in this way?

Your mom unbuckled herself and maneuvered her body to wipe the sweat off your face. Her eyes looking at you. She was worried, but you saw as she fought against it.

She was never one to comfort with words, but you felt better as she dabbed at your sweat.

“Don’t touch her, dickhead!”

You winced. The distant voice had such a foul mouth.

You looked up again, there was no reaction from your mom. She was a stickler for bad language, so if she wasn’t ready to threaten you with cleaning your mouth with soap, she didn’t hear the voice yelling.

“Jaybird, I’m trying to help.”

Another faceless voice. It didn’t contain the same venom as the first one.

“Then help her. She’s losing too much blood and this fucking rain is not helping.”

The irritation was growing from the distant echo. The anger felt familiar.

Instantly, you shivered again.

Your dad successfully pulled off the road bringing the truck to a complete stop. Now he was able to look back at you. His eyebrows pulled together in concern at your messy state.

You were in so much pain, but you were happy. Your parents were doting on you. You missed this feeling, being cared for.

“She still has a pulse, but it’s weak—so we have to act fast. B isn’t that far, we can make it. Just trust me, Jay.”

You shivered again.

“She’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

The voice sounded like it was trying to convince himself more than you.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

The sudden change of anger to tender twisted something inside of you.

A strange wave of sadness itched at you. Why did his voice affect you?

“You said you wanted to cook me a ‘real’ dinner. You promised me.”

You felt like crying.

“You have to take back your DVD.”

People still use those?

“I can’t believe you still buy those ancient things and your stupid puzzle is still on my table. I haven’t moved it, but I bought you the glue you’ve been talking about.”

“Jaybird—“ The other voice tried to interrupt.

“You need to glue it.”

Flashes of memories started to enter your mind.

Red Hood pointing a gun in your face. Sitting in his safe house together. Removing his helmet. Watching Jason, your Jason, make a shitty dinner. Then your sadness when you realized he only ate to live. Teaching him about the mundane things about life.

You put a stamp onto his life and he had his stamp on yours.

Using his shampoo, wearing his clothes, blushing when he told you how good you looked in red.

“Fuck!”

The yell made you flinch. Your dad reaching past the seat to pet your head. A silent comfort.

You remembered.

Remembered that you followed Jason to stop the new drug that infested the schools across Gotham. You ended up going into the warehouse by yourself and as you were aiming your pistol, the drug lord aimed back at you. There were four shots. You each got a good hit on the other, but you managed to limp yourself out to the open smoggy air with the drug lord still slumped on the concrete. You did your job. Months of work was finally done. Except paper work, but that could be dealt with.

A couple steps into the rain and more gunshots had fired behind you. A flash of red moved at the corner of your eye, but your body fell forward.

You didn’t finish the job. The drug lord had been barely breathing and still shot you.

Jay had to clean up after you. Again.

You couldn’t do anything right. Now you were full of bullet holes, face plastered against the rough pavement.

It was too late.

Your body shifted, lifted like you weighed nothing. Your face feeling pouring rain when a red silhouette shielded your face.

“You idiot!” Jason’s voice booming above you.

Your body felt so heavy.

You slowly blinked up at his helmet. You always hated that it blocked you from seeing his actual face. You loved looking at him, but when he had it on, you wanted take it off and throw it.

You closed your eyes. When they reopened you could see your mom holding your face.

“I’m dying.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic. It’s probably cause you spent all weekend running around and strained yourself. I’ll give you some medicine and then you’ll rest more when we get home.”

“Mom, I don’t want to die.”

“Hush, you just need to rest. You look tired.”

You were tired. So tired.

Your father reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s alright bug, you can rest.”

He was right. It was okay.

It won’t hurt to close your eyes for a little while. Maybe Jay will be there when you wake up. You’ll be in his arms and he’ll complain about you hogging the blanket all night, then kiss the sleepiness off of you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be here when you wake up. We love you.”

The pain had stopped.

You closed your eyes.

Maybe you would rest for a bit.

Car drives always did make you sleepy.

…

Jason held your hand. Your body was soaked from the rain, water dripping off the sides of your face as you laid in front of him.

He was afraid to move you any further, so he sat on the ground. His helmet lulled next to his feet, thrown to the ground.

All the noise around him stopped. He couldn’t hear anything.

He had a lot of fuck-ups in his life, but this was by far the worse one.

Your pulse had stopped. You were cold.

Jason shakily reached for your face. You looked like you were going to wake at any moment to move the hair out of your face and you would ask him what all the fuss was about.

But you laid there. Hair still in your face, moved from the rain.

He stopped himself from touching you, throwing off his gloves with the same carelessness as his helmet.

Jason inched towards your face, using his bare fingers to move the wet hair. He watched the cold beauty you radiated.

But it wasn’t you.

It wasn’t the person who judged his bad eating habits, complained about his old leather jacket, yet still sewed close the new holes that formed.

“You idiot.”

His voice eerie and calm.

He reached for your body, gently scooping you up into his embrace. Holding you as close as he can get you.

He couldn’t feel any heartbeat. No familiar thump that calmed him, that lulled him to sleep on those nights it was too difficult to rest.

“You fucking idiot.”

Jason whispered into your hair. None of his earlier panic or malice heard in his voice.

Lines of tears fell from his eyes. A quiet sob as he touched his forehead to yours.

“Don’t leave me.”

His voice broke.

He held you tighter. Intertwining his hand and yours together like he could bring back life into you.

“Please.”

#jason todd #red hood #writing #jason todd x reader

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mingisaddctn · 1 year ago

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unholy | j.yh

Pairing: preacher's son!yunho x reader Genre:[smut] yunho disguised as the devil brainrot Warnings: religious themes, corruption kink a/n: yea.

(also, sidenote, but it was kinda hard translating some of the christian terms bc i grew up with those but in my native language so bear w me

it always came back to that golden cross.

the token of Christ that he held around his neck, dangling on his chest as if it held the symbolism of carrying the holy figure in his heart.

ha. the irony of that.

you watched intently as the tall boy stood in the background. he didn't blend in, even with the gelled-back hair, white dress shirt and the gentle smile that was plastered all over. they all dressed the same, spoke the same, stood the same, but he somehow, his presence was the only one everyone seemed to focus on.

some could say it was the divine light that chose him, and no one would dare to oppose. how could they? not when the boy did everything to grace his image. an impeccable reputation, something not even the son of Christ himself got before meeting his end, being the towns sole preachers son almost faded in line of all the things jeong yunho was;

hard working student, star athlete, gracious volunteer, cheerful friend, sweet lover and darling son. sinful con-artist.

your father clapped alongside the people, cheering for the homily, he made sure to glance in your direction to ensure his own ego that you were being a good girl and paying attention.

he wanted you to fill those big shoes just as much as he wanted to slap your mother across the face every time she burned the food, leading her to fill another glass of wine and fall asleep alone on the couch, but still waking up earlier than everyone to pretend to be the very good wife that she was graced to be, offered just as young as you were now, by her own father, and the only thing she got in return was a sole golden cross to hang on her neck—a mark, a stamp that stated where and to whom she belonged—not your father, no.

but God.

"make sure to shake the preacher's hand" your father spat, oh-so-loyal to his master, shaking its tail as one of the sheep in the flock.

and you did. the mass had already ended when you approached the altar, under the watchful eye of the big wooden cross as you picked at your cuticles. in line, alongside your mother who held the weight of submission on her back, shrinking almost into a ball, you held your hands together waiting for your turn to thank the old man for doing his job.

"smile" your father told you.

and you did. borrowing one of the various features, doing your best impression of the good daughter, the most innocent sheep.

but the eyes of the predator followed around. to anyone, it would be just a caring gaze, but you knew what came within, the dark pair of eyes making your skin tingle and stomach churn.

you avoided it. you knew the consequences but you did anyway. you knew that later, when the blue darkened into the night and no lights would be seen within a mile radius, he would strip you out of wool, pierce your organs and drink from it as if it were the blood of Christ.

and when the birds went into hiding and dark hues shadowed the figures around, you found yourself shaking your leg frantically, looking between the clock on your nightstand and the closed window with lacy curtains that protected you so foolishly from the outside world.

it was close to time to leave when you heard the wine glass clinking downstairs. you put down the bible, shallow breaths forming inside your chest as you opened the window, jumping onto the dry grass that your father never cared to water. why would he do anything that didn't come with god's name attached to it?

approaching the same chapel you stood in this morning, you saw a faint light of an oil lamp coming from the backside, with it, came the following gaze that haunted you every other day, and you could smell the faint scent of soap in his clothes. not a wrinkle, not a stain, shirt as white as heaven, eyes as dark as sin.

he smiled as you came closer. not his usual one, but the one he reserved for those nightly escapades of yours—and your heart pounded from the knowledge that it was for you. you noticed that he was chomping on an apple, the sweet scent of the fruit adorning your nostrils as you stood idly in front of him. a small light reflected on the small piece of gold that hid on his chest.

with his hand up, he held the viciously red apple in front of your eyes. you didn't eat a lot at dinner because a fight between your parents broke out, and you were already sick from attending mass—ever since you started meeting the boy outside, sundays never felt the same—so the sight of a lustrous, full and juicy fruit did the trick on you.

you reached to grab it, but he retreated his offer.

"nuh-uh" he said. "open up."

and as a good girl, you did, allowing to be fed by the same fingers that found its way into your deepest parts. the same ones that dragged along your skin and touched wherever you claimed to be forbidden by the eyes of the lord. but how could it be so wrong? not when his touch felt that good.

yunho smiled at the sight of you biting into the fruit. you had no idea what he was thinking most of the time, but when he smiled like that, it was real.

"come" he said as he opened the back door, discarding the core on the grass. the evidence of it only being the sweet taste left on your lips, now to linger forevermore.

following him inside, you two reached the same familiar room where you grew up going in and out of. the wooden cabinets surrounding you, full of things that were meaningless without being held at the altar on sunday mornings.

the sacristy was somewhere you spent a lot of time organizing things as a volunteer, helping the altar boys and doing your part as part of the church, being the prideful gem of your community. but would they think so if they knew that your only reason to do it was so you could see more of the golden boy?

you could never lie when someone teased you about being too infatuated with the boy. your cheeks would heat up and heart would pound like crazy, to the point where you always worried if you were on the verge of dying or exploding. you first met him at the church, following him around as if he was your pastor, the one that would lead and save you.

then it was at school, but the meetings would always be brief, since he was always busy with school work or sports. you could never catch him alone, there was always crowds around him wherever he went, and you knew you fell into the category of being another one in his flock, but then he caught you staring that one sunday after mass, while he played the organ and no one was around for once.

"you always stare" he said, his voice velvety and seemingly to be something made by God's hands Himself "but you never say anything. are you scared of me?"

shaking your head, you looked down to your shoes, fingers picking at your cuticles.

you knew he was observant, too. most of the times you stared, he caught you, but he never said anything—that's how thoughtful he was, and that was one of the many things that made your young heart belong to him.

before you could even answer, your father called you from the sacristy, and you left, escaping from those warm, chocolate eyes.

but that was the day when things changed; the day he made you aware that he knew of your hobby of watching, because the next sunday, you caught him sneaking wine from one of those big wooden cabinets.

it was before mass, when you found yourself in the sacristy, opening the door without announcing, not expecting anyone to be there. but then you found the boy leaning by the entrance, drinking from the chalice as he watched you closely, his eyes never leaving you.

it shattered you on the inside. the sharp dress shirt he always wore to mass now held a deep stain by the collar, and everything about him seemed so messy. but what hurt the most was to see his eyes turn dark, something you never expected to see.

and it seemed to exhilarate him, the thought of you being the only one knowing. he knew you watched, and he wanted to give you a show.

on christmas night, when the mass would be held late, you stood behind to help clean up and organize the things from the short play held by the community. it was almost the next day and even the preacher had left, but you were folding the costumes and reassembling the scenery.

it wasn't rare for you to be alone in the church, at some point you even had the keys, but something felt eerie about that night. and then you heard a noise. it was indistinguishable at first, and you thought that someone could have returned and maybe got hurt, so you left the sacristy and went to the main hall.

now the sounds grew louder, and your heart pounded in its cage. it scared you, you thought someone might've gotten hurt, but you kept on going, trying to see where the noises were coming from.

stepping lightly, you heard another moan of what you thought was pain, coming from the confessional, the small door closed, but the sounds coming through.

"h-hello?" you called, no response.

approaching closer, your fingers held the handle and you took a deep breath, opening it slowly.

and you were met with dark eyes, the same ones that corrupted you before, the same ones who disguised themselves all this time, fooling everyone who dared to stare back. the same gaze you longed for, but now dreaded.

yunho leaned against the confessional wall, hair disheveled and the dress shirt half open. he panted, and the air inside felt heavy. moans sung by the heart shaped lips, the same ones you wondered if they were hand painted in heaven, now sounding so shameless, making sounds so sinful as he fisted his cock.

but the way your body reacted, your stomach felt like melting, and your face held too much heat. you didn't know you could sweat from other places, but your undergarments were now drenched. and that's when he grabbed your wrist, leading your hand to fall on top of his, enveloping his warm member into your palms.

you knew you were supposed to feel disgusted. you knew you were supposed to go back to your house, pray and go to sleep, but how could you when your hand was melting into his, and the noises he made when you moved your wrist were so forbidden it tasted good?

his pants became heavier and heavier, and the movements grew faster, then he spurted on your fingers and brought them to his own mouth.

seeing as you didn't move, he pulled your wrist, making your face fall closer to his, and then placed both of your fingers between your mouths, giving them a long lick, tasting his fluids.

"this is because of your staring" he claimed, placing yours and his digits into your mouth, making you jolt in shock. "do you know how hard it is to pretend not to see it?"

you did what you did best; you watched him. both of your fingers now resting on your tongue and the bitterness of his release mixing with your saliva.

"take it. prove it to me" he stared back. "prove that you want me."

it was over for you when you sucked on his skin involuntarily.

after that, he would ravish your body and sing prayers as his tongue tasted the sheen coat of sweat all over you. all week he portrayed the golden boy, the blessed child; but sundays, his mind became possessed by you.

now, back in present, he was holding the same golden chalice, signaling for you to grab the bottle of wine sitting next to you.

"will you open that for me?" he asked, voice coated in velvet that rubbed against your ears.

you took the cork off and he waited for you to serve the chalice, but before you could, he stopped himself, as if he had just gotten a new, better idea. he sat on the cushioned armchair behind the desk, pulling you closer by the hem of your thin camisole, face laying lower than yours, to the point you had to look down.

"pour me a drink, please?" you could've swore you'd seen the small, sheer glimpse of those same warm eyes for a moment. but it had to be just your mind playing tricks on you.

the boy sat under you with his fingertips grazing against your thighs as he opened his mouth, waiting for you to serve him. he knew that no matter what he asked of you, you would do it, no questions asked.

you started pouring the wine into his mouth, watching as the deep, dark liquid pooled onto his tongue as he closed his eyes, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed every last drop. mesmerized and lost in his godly features, you tilted the bottle a little more than you should, letting some of the wine drip on his skin, a small, faint line leaving its trace from the corner of his mouth to his neck.

he gave your thigh a small squeeze, and you stopped all motion as his eyes shot open, tongue licking his lower lip to not waste any alcohol.

"c'mon, darling, it's not time to make a mess yet" he laughed, the hearty laugh you grew up replaying inside your mind, giggling with your feet in the air. "clean that up now, will ya?"

you just nodded, turning on your feet to grab a napkin when he stopped you, pulling your legs closer in a quick move, making you fall onto straddling his strong thighs.

"you know what I meant by that" he watched every singular move your irises did closely, keeping track of your thoughts as if he could read them.

biting your lip, you looked at where the wine stained his cheek, and leaning forward, you gave it an experimental small lick. not daring to lean back, knowing that he wouldn't leave you alone with that following eye contact, you went lower, reaching for his neck, the tip of your tongue following the trace of a vein that stood under the fair skin.

the deep rumble of his groan trembled from your tongue to the rest of your body, accommodating itself inside your lower abdomen, a spot of wetness that began to stick to yunho's dress pants.

"I haven't even touched you properly, dear" he whispered into your ear as you kept on licking him clean "and you're already getting wet?"

your breath faltered and, ashamed, you hid your face into the crook of his neck. but he never ran from what he wanted, when he wanted—that's when you felt his long, cold fingers sliding inside your panties, the fingerprints embedded on your folds as he played around with the slick.

"y-yun—" you let out a whimper, your fingernails leaving half-crescent marks onto his shoulder.

"huh, what is it?" he asked, whispers into your ears and engraving his voice into your soul as his fingers pinched your clit, making a squeal leave your lips. "what is it that you want the most?"

you bit into his skin, chills running down your spine and cold sweat forming on your nape, could even be mistaken for a chilly breeze in the middle of that hot summer night.

when he slid a finger inside you, you could swear that your heart almost got stuck into your throat. placing your hand on top of your mouth, you tried to control the noises you were now making in union to the newly-found friction.

you found yourself nipping on your cuticles involuntarily, being too swayed by the waves of pleasure and emotional burst, but he caught it. he always did.

"oh no... you hurt yourself" he grabbed your hand with his free one, scanning it, watching as a small button of blood formed where your teeth bit into, it was a tic, you always picked at your fingers, and making it bleed wasn't news, but he seemed disappointed.

and then he put your fingers into his mouth, and sucked on the blood. eyes not leaving yours as you stared back, brows furrowed, a moan leaving the confines of your lips as you felt the texture of his tongue swirling around your digits.

with his free hand, he kept on moving, fingers in and out, pressing the sweet spot that was reserved for him, and only him. you weren't bounded by marriage, nor you thought you would be too soon, but under the severe gaze of god, you were his and he was yours.

the knot that formed on your stomach grew tighter and tighter while he sucked on your fingers and pressed inside you. the bulge in his pants causing friction when you rolled your hips desperately, using his body for your own selfish needs.

soon, the release came, washing over you as a cozy blanket of pure comfort, and you slumped onto his upper body, being held in arms as a cage, knowing that, even when he was the threat, he was the savior.

"you seem pretty found of this" he noted, and then you came to your senses to see that you were gripping to his golden cross.

leaning back, he unclasped the gold chain, the other hand that was nestled inside you left the warmth, the coldness of the slick on your panties meeting your lower lips and making you shiver slightly.

"I want you to have it" he said, placing the other hand on top of your lips, forcing them open, placing the cross on your tongue, and his wet fingers on top of it, pressing. drool began to form on the corner of your lips as you gazed at him with half lidded eyes. "god... how can you be so beautiful?"

in a quick frenzy, you suddenly found yourself on the top of the altar, legs spread and the weight of the golden cross now falling on your chest. yunho kissed your legs, leaving deep purple marks inside, places where only he could see them. he lost his dress shirt along the way, and his pants were unbuttoned, only a matter of time for him to lower his boxers to reveal the hard cock stuck in its confinements.

from where you laid, you could see the tall boy standing in front of you, and on top of him, as if to peek, was the huge wooden cross. the one last symbol you caught sight of as he entered you, the last view before falling into the depths of insanity.

his big hands sneaked under you, holding your body close to his as he moved in and out, the feeling of his cock rubbing against you making you crazier by the second. the feeling too good to be right, and the small voice inside your head that kept you pure, innocent, now was gone. you had no trace of light anymore, not when you were conjoined; not when your body melted into his.

his groans were prayers and you attended them with moans, the song of angels being made right in that moment, and nothing was holier than the way your heart thumped against his. keeping quiet wasn't an option anymore, and your whimpers soon became screams, the sound of his name echoing over and over between those walls.

you screamed, and drooled, and held onto dear life, his body being the last piece of salvation close to you, and the grasp so desperate you would think your soul was condemned. he kept on thrusting, his member hitting the same spot over and over, and the sound of your hips slapping grew louder.

you weren't you anymore. you never knew what came over your body when he fucked you, but it wasn't something holy. it trembled and shook and moved on its own, every trace of control abandoning your senses, the grasp of reality not being in sight.

"I'll make you mine" he repeated in your ear as a promise, singing it as his own psalm. "you'll be forever bound to me; to my body."

"I am yours" you babbled, not even sure if the words were clear, but he got the message as he kept on thrusting, fingers digging into your skin as his lips sucked on your neck.

and when his dark gaze met yours again, a groan run through his throat, the bundle of pleasure snapping inside you, just as his own did. the seed of his own filled your walls completely, and you smiled satisfied, mind far from your body as you were consumed by the primal urges.

now, with his golden cross wrapped around your neck and his claim slipping between your thighs, he marked you as his.

it was scary, how much you lost yourself when he touched you, scary how good it felt, scary how forbidden it was, scary how he made you feel like never before.

for as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him;

and you feared him the most.

#yunho #ateez smut #ateez #ateez yunho

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purpleknighty · 7 months ago

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Do I Wanna Know?

Pairing: Agent!Haerin x Agent!Fem!Reader

Summary: Now a rouge spy, fleeing from the old agency you once worked for, you find yourself at a familiar doorstep you never thought you’d see again.

Warnings/tags: violence, mentions of blood and injuries, small angst, enemies to lovers(?), reader and haerin are off and on, heavy emphasis on communication, misunderstandings(?), tell me if I missed anything else

Tonight has been shit, nothing has worked out in your favor, everything keeps getting worse and worse.

At first, you assumed it was very badly timed coincidences. You walk into a bar for starters, college students being the loudest customers there. 20 minutes into enjoying your drink, a suspicious group of men walk in, eyeing you up and down.

They whisper among each other, stealing glances at your seated frame, but you feel their eyes on the back of your head.

You keep calm, waiting to see who makes the first move. The men do, and as they itch closer, you realize they look like agents that you use to work with.

Fuck that.

You pay for the two drinks you had, a gin tonic and a strawberry sunset, bolting out the doors with the group falling after you.

It becomes an annoying game of cat and mouse, the racing after your car, the unnecessary shooting, the rookie mistakes they keep making, it was all just headache inducing.

That same group purposely took a different route to corner you, five guys in black suits coming out to bring you back to headquarters.

You denied their request upon getting out the car, not caring about how wanted you are within the agency, how much of a target is on your back or how much money the higher uppers are offering these stupid rookies to bring you back.

You could give two shits about it.

Your refusal results in an all-out-brawl, which was very unfair in your case, five guys all jumping one person? Now that’s just plain dirty. You win through experience but you don’t leave the battlefield unscathed, one of those bastard had slashed you with his knife, adding another wound that needs to heal.

At this point, wounded, bleeding and tired and the clock passing midnight. It was best to go home and clean up before resting.

But somehow, your body goes on autopilot. Foot pressing on the gas, hands turning the steering wheel into a familiar place, onto a familiar road and oops, now you’re standing at a familiar doorstep.

This is a bad idea. You should turn back around. It’s all the blood loss getting to your head.

Despite the voices telling you to not follow through, you do it anyways. Knocking with your free hand as the other presses a flimsy cloth over your cut to stop the bleeding.

You wait a few seconds before doing it again, ignoring how slowly you’re starting to become dizzy and lightheaded. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

Passing out in front of your enemy’s(?) doorstep isn’t a good look on you or anyone.

As you’re about to give up, grumbling curses under your breath, the door opens. A set of cat eyes stare through the cracked door, suspicious but upon seeing your silhouette, the door flys open.

There, she stands in all her sleepy glory. Hair slightly disheveled, sleep shorts with a tank top on adores her body and cat eyes that still make your heart flutter and chest tighten.

Yup, it’s definitely the blood loss now.

“What happened?” She breaks the silence, dark eyes sinking in your injured frame. White shirt now stained red from your blood and others, dark jeans covered in dirt from all the times you were thrown into the ground of that god-awful alleyway.

A dry chuckle leaves your lips, causing you to cough up. “You know,” A half-smile finds its way onto your face. “Being hunted all night, the fun stuff.”

Haerin huffs, making sure the coast is clear by looking down her hallway. Seeing no one but you and her awake at this hour, she gently pulls you in.

“Let’s..” She pauses, eyes lingering on you. “Let’s get you cleaned up so you can get out of my house.”

Wow, such a friendly welcoming.

You hiss at the pain, hands gripping the armrest at your sides. You can never get use to this, snitches. No matter how many wounds you have received as your time as an agent, you will never get use to getting snitches.

Your head falls back to lay on the headrest of the office chair, a sigh of relief can be heard, aware this painful procedure is done and over with.

“How did this happen?” Haerin speaks softly, fingertip lightly circling and messaging around the wound as to not hurt you.

You ignore the groan that threatens to spill from your throat, ignoring the feeling of desire everytime you look at Haerin.

You know you can’t have her but that’s what keeps pulling you in, what keeps making you come back.

You run a hand through your hair, utterly exhausted. “Rookie agents were sent after me. Found my ass in a bar downtown.”

You watch Haerin’s brows frown, almost like she’s lost in thought before collecting herself and standing up from her kneeling position.

“Why are you here? You are a target, coming here makes me an enemy as well, you know?” The cat-eyed girl looks back over her shoulder, only to shake her head at seeing you once again, this time bruised and wounded.

“I work for the same agency that’s after you, Y/n. A hefty amount of money is being offered to whoever can successfully bring you back, dead or alive.”

The raven haired traces her pointer finger over the barrel of your pistol that lays unsupervised on her desk, petite fingers are quick to grab the gun, now your own weapon is being pointed at you.

“I could kill you right now. You’re tired, open, and vulnerable. I could end this nuisance and bring you back to headquarters myself.”

She’s right, Haerin could kill you right now and you wouldn’t have the energy to fight back. Your knife is too on her desk but she stands right next to it which puts you at an disadvantage, and she knows you have a big slash on the side of your stomach, another disadvantage to you.

Your life on the line, the barrel to your gun in point blank range to your face, you should be scared.. but you’re not.

You can’t stop thinking about how the moonlight makes Haerin the most beautiful woman alive, even more than she already is. Cat eyes that keep you hooked, a smile or grin or smirk that makes you weak in the knees, or a laugh that makes you wish things were different.

You wished you and Haerin met under different circumstances.

Maybe then things could’ve worked out better between you two.

“Then kill me. You have the opportunity, Haerin. Take it.”

She sighs, arms dropping, a small smile graces her pretty lips.

“You’re so stupid, dingus.”

God, you love when she calls you that.

Miss it even.

A dorky smile breaks out before you can stop it, eyes filled with so much emotion for the cat-eyed woman. You just hope the dimmed moonlight doesn’t expose too much.

Then a harsh jolt of pain flashes up your spine from a simple gesture, reminding you of the real reason why you’re here, why you’re sitting in Haerin’s apartment to begin with.

It ruins the mood greatly.

You go to stand up, abruptly becoming lightheaded and close to losing your balance. Haerin’s eyes widen in worry, rushing to your side as you try to re-focus your vision.

“Sorry,” You murmur, seeing the slight mess you made. “Stood up too quickly.” Haerin frowns, eyes glancing up to your face then back down to your cut.

She bites her lip before speaking, “Stay.” She says it so softly that it scratches your brain in a way that just feels right. “You’re injured.. stay for the night.”

She shyly finishes, not sure if her hands on your arms are there to keep you or her steady, you don’t mind the warmth though.

The request feels tempting, is this how Eve felt when the snake whispered for her to eat the forbidden fruit?

Inner conflict arose, your heart tells you to do it, take her up on her offer. Once in a lifetime opportunity, but your mind says no. It’ll feel good in the moment, but will it help you in the long run?

Haerin is already breaking protocols, giving aid to someone the higher ups deem to be an enemy. If they catch wind of this.. Haerin might be outcasted, thrown out of the agency and ending up in the same situation you’re in.

A wanted agent, a criminal who’s on the run from an organization that’s wants you dead.

Yeah, this was a bad idea after all.

You forcefully have to pull yourself away Haerin’s grasp, choosing to ignore the look of disappointment that comes across her face.

“Where you going?” She breaks the silence, voice quiet, watching your back muscles flex as you reach out for your ruined shirt.

“Leaving.”

Cat eyes stare daggers into you, brows now stuck in a permanent frown.

“Why? I said you can stay for the night.” The feeling of annoyance seeps into your veins, wondering why Haerin’s starting this now.

“No reason. I’m just getting myself out of your hair.”

She stops you from grabbing your gun, the small puddle of annoyance expanding from the action. A sigh of frustration slips pass your lips, running a hand through your hair.

“Haerin.”

“Stay, Y/n. You’re injured.”

“That hasn’t stopped me before.”

“Well, I’m stopping you now.”

Your eye twitches, why won’t she let you leave? She’s let you walked out on multiple occasions, but why now? Why stop you now?

You scoff, now isn’t the time for your emotions to get in the way. You shove past her, grabbing what belongs to you from her desk and making your way through her bedroom door.

But Haerin isn’t one to give up easily (one of many traits that you love about her) and forcefully grabs onto your forearm, halting you for putting your shoes on.

“Haerin- I swear to god—“ But you stop upon looking back at her. Now there’s a clear look of sadness, dark brown eyes are slightly teary and her grip tightens on your skin.

She looks so small and fragile, so vulnerable and soft. Even through your shoving and pushing, Haerin has always been gentle and patient.

Never one to swear, even when upset or angry. Always polite and quiet.

You still can’t fathom why she chose to become an agent with her shy and timid demeanor.

“Please..”

Her voice cracks, trying to push back the sniffles and tears that threaten to fall.

“Stay.. please..”

Her pleads and begs get muffled and drowned out by your lips. Her broken voice echoing through the empty walls of her apartment, almost as if it’s haunting and taunting your very existence.

Your hand finds way to the back of her head, burying itself in her silky locks. The other placed on her waist to pull her closer, needing her scent to linger on your skin.

This kiss feels different, like there’s a hidden message behind it. A message Haerin can’t express with words but can convey with body language.

You pull back when oxygen becomes a problem, your warm breath fanning over her lips and your heat engulfing her into a comforting embrace.

“I’ve missed you..” She whispers, finally spilling. Her palms rest above your chest before scrunching the ruined fabric in her grasp.

“I’ve been worried after everything happened.. I got even more worried when Headquarter started sending agents after you..”

She pauses, observing you quietly as she continues to talk.

It’s one of those rare moments when Haerin talks and never stops.

“Was it really that bad?”

You shrug, not wanting to think about how chaotic your life has been since and focus more on the woman in your arms.

“I broke protocol, and I mean a bunch of them too when I was working. The higher ups have always been strict about their rules.”

She nuzzles into your neck, the act resembling a cat. Your heart speeds up, pumping and butterflies forming.

“You went MIA for months..” You crack a small smile at her voice.

“Had to keep a low profile. Didn’t wanna die so early into my retirement.”

You go to move, which prompts the brunette to cling on to you tighter. God, she’s gonna be the death of you.

“Relax, kitty.” You press a reassuring kiss to her temple, the brief smell of her shampoo easily evaporates any worries you might’ve had for the night.

“Just going to take my shoes off, I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiles into your neck, looking up at you through her lashes, cat eyes instantly turning you smitten. A faint blush creeps over her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears.

Attractive, ethereal, magnificent, beautiful.

Kang Haerin makes you feel alive.

You let your emotions win once again that night, choosing to bask in what it would feel like to fall in love with Haerin without death knocking at your front door.

And honestly.. now you don’t wanna know.

#female reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans imagines #kang haerin x reader #haerin x reader #haerin imagines #kpop gg #girl group imagines

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astrxq · 2 years ago

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a case of a ruined blouse and a hot coffee cup

ethan landry x fem!reader

words: 2.5k

notes: non-ghostface, like one sexual innuendo. not proofread!!

Ethan's face couldn't get any redder. The muttered apologies he kept repeating only made him blush more as he attempted to wipe his shirt with some balled-up tissues. You were still holding onto the cup, now empty, since the hot coffee had spilled all over your shirt and Ethan's jacket.

"Here," he offered two clean tissues and sighed in worry as he stared at the big brown stain on your blouse. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see you coming," he apologized again. You didn't reply, too focused on cleaning yourself. "It's okay. Shit, this isn't doing anything," you groaned at the sight of the blouse quickly showing the straps of your underwear. Seeing that Ethan's jacket was somewhat dried, you reached down to the floor to pick up your notebook and hurried your way to the bathroom, arm crossed over your chest to cover yourself.

Anika rushed to the bathroom, holding onto a hoodie that was too big to be hers, and a panicked look on her face. "What on earth happened to you?" she asked when she saw the coffee stain covering from your neck to your stomach. "I bumped into your friend on the way to class," you wet your shirt again, now rubbing more harshly, "and it's not washing off."

"Oh, right. Ethan insisted that I give you this," she handed you the hoodie. "He's kind of freaked out; I've never seen the boy so red." Undoing the buttons of your blouse, you slid on the grey hoodie, and Anika tried to hold back a frown at the sight of your ruined shirt. "This was so cute," groaning, you tried wetting the cloth again. "You'll rip it!" Anika exclaimed, taking the wet blouse from your hand before you could get back to cleaning it frantically. "It's my favorite! I have to clean it before it gets fully ruined."

Chad's laughter filled your ears the second you walked out of the bathroom, the dripping blouse in one hand and your backpack on the other. "It's okay, man," he patted Ethan's back as the tall boy rolled his eyes, cheeks still burning red. "It was so bad. So, so bad," he repeated over and over again as Chad attempted to hold back his laughter at his friend's embarrassment. Ethan had clearly taken off his hoodie to give to you; he had a wrinkled white shirt on, and his jacket hung from his arm.

"Let's just go to class; we'll try to fix this back in the dorm," Anika said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you towards the classroom. You were grateful for her presence and the hoodie she had borrowed from Ethan for you.

As the lecture went on, you found it hard to concentrate, your mind wandering back to the ruined blouse. You knew it was just a piece of clothing, but it was frustrating to see it ruined in such a way. You made a mental note to try to salvage it somehow, maybe by taking it to a dry cleaner or by calling your grandma for advice.

After class, you made your way back to the dorm. On the way, Anika and her friends were sitting in a group of benches, chatting. Ethan looked like he had finally calmed down, and you could tell he was feeling better now that he had apologized and given you his hoodie. You mouthed a thank you once you saw him make eye contact after Anika and Mindy waved towards you, and he smiled shyly, still a little embarrassed.

Once you were back in your room, you took off the hoodie and inspected your blouse again. The stain was still there, but it had faded a little. You decided to try to wash it again, hoping that the second attempt would be more successful. After a few minutes of scrubbing, you finally managed to remove the stain from your blouse. You hung it up to dry and looked over at the hoodie that Ethan had given you. It was warm and comfortable, and you couldn't help but smile at the thought of returning it to him.

The next day, you made your way to class holding onto the hoodie that Ethan had given you in hopes of finding him. As you walked into the classroom, you spotted Ethan sitting at his desk, looking focused on his notes. You made your way over to him, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.

"Hey, Ethan," you said, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned around, a surprised look on his face. "Oh, hey," he said. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to say thanks again for the hoodie yesterday. It really saved my day," you said, giving him a grateful smile. Ethan smiled back, looking a little relieved. "No problem," he said. "I'm glad it helped. Anika said you managed to get the stain out; I'm glad about that too."

You nodded. "Yeah, me too. Do you mind if I sit here?" you pointed at the empty seat next to him. Ethan looked surprised but pleased. "Sure, I'd like that."

You spent most of the lecture trying to hear what the professor was saying. Ethan always sat so far in the back that you were sure he had some kind of superhearing because you could barely pay attention to what was being explained. The teacher gave one of the students a bunch of papers for him to give to everybody, and once you were given your assignment, you groaned. "I still don't understand why he gives everyone a different assignment."

As you put the marketing class assignment in your bag, ready to go, Ethan cleared his throat. "I could come by your dorm later, and we could work on it together," he suggested. "If you want, of course." Standing up from the wooden chair, Ethan mirrored your actions. "That would be great," you said, feeling grateful for the help.

Later that day, Ethan showed up at your dorm room, and you let him in. Anika was there too, and she welcomed him with a smile and a pat on the chest before making her way to her room. "I'll be in here, don't wanna disturb you guys," she explained. Ethan sat on the maroon couch and grabbed his notebook from the bag before turning to pay attention to your conversation in silence.

"It's just a marketing assignment, don't worry. We'll be done soon; it's not too long, right?" Ethan shook his head. "I did mine in half an hour." Anika's phone buzzed, and she held it up to show you the screen with Mindy's name calling on it. "I'll be fine."

"So, what's your assignment about?" Ethan asked as you took a seat next to him. "It's a case study on a company that's struggling to stay afloat," you explained, handing him the assignment sheet that was a bit wrinkled because of the bag. Ethan read it over and nodded. "Okay, I see. Have you done any research on the company yet?"

You shook your head. "Not really, I wasn't sure where to start." He handed back the paper and took his phone out. "Well, let's start by looking up some articles and news stories about the company. That should give us a good idea of what they're dealing with."

As you and Ethan worked on the assignment,

you found that you enjoyed his company. He was actually kind of funny and easy to talk to, much to your surprise after seeing him so shy the day before, and you appreciated his help with the project.

"So, how did you get interested in business?" you asked him as you worked. He shrugged. "I've always been interested in how businesses work," he explained. "Plus, I like the challenge of coming up with creative solutions to problems."

"That makes sense," you said, impressed. "I'm more of a creative type myself. I like writing and art."

"I can tell," Ethan said, glancing at the doodles on the margins of your notes. "You're really talented." You blushed, feeling a little embarrassed. "Thanks. I just like to draw to pass the time in class."

After roughly half an hour, just like he had predicted, you and Ethan had finished the assignment, and he got up to leave. "Thanks for your help, Ethan. I really appreciate it," you said, feeling grateful. "No problem, anytime. And hey, we should hang out again sometime. Maybe we could grab a coffee or something?"

You smiled. "Let's stay away from coffee, Ethan." He let out a throaty laugh. "Yeah." You could hear Anika talking to Mindy on the phone from her room, and Ethan smiled sweetly before taking a step out of the door. "I'll see you tomorrow in class, then-"

"Do you want to study together for the upcoming exam?" you asked, hoping for a yes. Ethan looked relieved and nodded eagerly. "Yeah, yes. That sounds great," he said, smiling at you.

A few minutes after Ethan left, Anika, feeling happy and relieved, came out of her room. "Seems to have gone really well. Huh?" she poked your slightly red cheek.

You nodded, grinning, and she hoped to remember to tell Mindy about how giddy you looked talking about it. "I can tell. You two seem to get along really well." You turned to Anika with a smile. "I think I just made a new friend," you said. She chuckled. "Yeah. Just a friend."

"He only came to help with the assignment, Anika." She shrugged, not even attempting to hold back her grin. "You'd be cute together."

You rolled your eyes at Anika's comment, knowing that she loved to play matchmaker. "I don't know about that," you said, trying to downplay it. "We're just classmates working on a project together."

"Uh-huh, sure," Anika said, still grinning. "Well, regardless of whether you two end up dating or not, it's nice to have a new friend. And he's like super smart too."

"Yeah, he is," you agreed, feeling grateful for Ethan's help. "I'm glad he helped me with this." Anika nodded in agreement before adding, "And who knows, maybe he'll be able to help you with your other assignments too, and it'll bloom into a beautiful relationship." She exaggerated, "Yeah, maybe." You said, smiling. Anika laughed. "I knew you liked him; it's my first time seeing you blush so hard after talking to a boy."

"Maybe I should ask him if he wants to study together more often too." Anika beamed at you. "That's the spirit! And who knows, maybe you'll end up teaching him a thing or two about your creative skills." You chuckled at the thought and hit her arm. "You're disgusting."

"I didn't even say anything!" you protested, still laughing. Anika just grinned at you and shook her head. "You don't have to say anything. Your expression says it all."

As the two of you settled back into your own work, you couldn't help but think about Ethan and the possibility of hanging out with him again. Maybe Anika was right, and it could turn into something more, but for now, you were just happy to have him around.

As months went by, you found yourself spending more and more time with Ethan. At first, it was just studying together for your assignment, but soon it turned into grabbing lunch or dinner together after class. You couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. His dark hair was always perfectly placed even if he barely styled it, like he had confessed in one of your numerous meals together. His eyes were a striking shade of brown, and his smile was enough to make your heart skip a beat. But you didn't want to ruin your newfound friendship by making things awkward, so you had tried to push those thoughts aside.

One day, you were studying together in the library when Ethan suggested taking a break. "Let's go get some fresh air," he said, standing up and stretching his arms out.

You agreed and followed him outside. The rest of the afternoon was spent chatting and laughing. And, before you knew it, the sun was starting to set, and it was time to head back to your dorms.

As you walked back together, Ethan suddenly stopped in front of you. "Y/N, I have to tell you something."

Your heart started pounding in your chest. Was he going to confess his feelings for you? Or was he going to tell you that he only saw you as a friend?

"I really like spending time with you, well—" he stopped, his voice low and a bit nervous. "I like you," he admitted, "and I was wondering if you maybe felt the same way?"

You felt a rush of emotions flood through you. This was it. The moment you had been waiting for. "Yes, Ethan," you said, taking a step closer to him. "I do feel the same way."

Before you knew it, Ethan had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You felt his lips on yours, soft and gentle at first, before he deepened the kiss. Your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss became more passionate.

You could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest as he pulled away, his eyes searching yours. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he said, his voice husky and a bit breathy.

"Me too," you admitted, feeling a surge of happiness wash over you. And once a few droplets of water interrupted you, Ethan insisted on going back inside and finishing studying. Every now and then, you both would steal a kiss or two from the other, unable to get enough of each other.

#ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry gif #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream 2023 #scream 6 #jack champion x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff

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stareiiez · 6 months ago

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𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 --- three.

simon ( ghost ) riley x female reader.

content : dark?? ghost. fingering. orgasming. voyeurism. modern settings. mentions of stalking. obsession. drinking. sex. female genitals. unhealthy attachments. violence. blood. implied death. blood. smut in later chapters. dark topics. this is just my version of haunting adeline but for ghost. adult cis female reader. MDNI. 3.9k words.

note: FINALLY we get to the beginning of the juicy bits. Rip Graves. I never liked him anyways :o. reblogs and notes are always loved and appreciated!

The number of times you were right, was very slim to none. You were right about hot tea being nothing but assaulting to your tastebuds the few times you tried to give the drink a chance. You were right about how stupid politics, and the government were just how they chanted about making your country amazing and equal again. You were right about how hot cocoa and hot chocolate were two different drinks. One was hot milk and cocoa powder, while the latter involved actual chocolate being involved in the process of making the delicious beverage. You were lastly right about seeing Graves again. Manifestation and crossing your fingers had nothing on your ability to predict that you'd manage to get the man into your home and sitting across from you.

A cooling mug of bitter coffee sat in the curve of his palm while he laughed over the details again about the night he first saw you at the club. Thanks to the help of a flirty intoxicated Izzy, she left yours as well as her and Veronica's numbers written on a liquor-damp piece of receipt paper for Graves' boys to fight over who could have whom for late-night hookups if they so wanted. Graves had called you during your lunch break at work, somehow he had known in the universe that you were thinking about him to take the time to call. You never answered unknown numbers, but this time you had. Your cheeks flushed when you heard his drawl over the phone's speaker. His tone sends your heart to flutter in its trapped cage of your ribs. Your coworkers must have thought you were weird for smiling and giggling like a schoolgirl who was talking to their quarterback crush over the phone for the first time.

You two had chatted about the hour break you had during lunch. Your three-day-old takeout leftovers were left untouched in favor of flirting with the man and trying to work out a day and time to have him come over for a cup of coffee as an excuse to catch up on the missing details of the rest of the night. The sound of idle laughter filled your home's warm living room/kitchen area. You covered your giggles with your coffee mug while Graves went into detail about how he found his friends' clothes missing after Izzy and Veronica had convinced them to skinny dip in the pool of the Air B&B the boys were staying in for however long. Their clothes were hidden among the crooks and crannies of the house while the boys played drunk Marco Polo in the pool temp water.

Veronica and Izzy had soon left them after that, miraculously striding out of the home just as Graves had been dropped off by his Uber. He graciously bought them both a ride home, none the wiser to the panicked voices of his friends outside in their rented pool. "I've never seen anything quite as pale as the White Sands in New Mexico than Ox's bare ass streaking through the place trying to find his clothes. " Graves laughed over your small giggles the image had brought both of you.

Comfortable silence lingered between you two as you both sipped from differing tastes of coffee. His eyes never left you, nor did they hide the way they watched your throat move as you swallowed a mouth full of overly sweet coffee and cream.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I never asked my guest." Graves' eyebrows rose when you set your mug down, a change in your expression caught his attention. You were now standing. Coffee mug drained to bitter grounds and sugar granules. The stain of your lipstick imprinting on deep green ceramic. "If he wanted a tour of my home, you've been here for an hour but your story was so funny I didn't want to interrupt. "

Pretty blues swept over your small place. A lofted house isn't much to get lost in, but there was more to just a chic-looking home in the middle of nowhere. What's he got to lose? A pretty woman taking him on adventures that would give him excuses to have his hands on you so you don't stray away. Count him in. "Alright, darlin'. " The harsh push of his velvet-lined barstool squeaked against the floorboards when he stood to rise as well. An arm extended in such a gentleman-like way, offering it out to you. As if he wasn't charming enough for someone you've known for a night and one day.

His muscles were strong against your smooth skin when you wrapped your arm around him. Ignoring the flush threatening to surface on your cheeks from the smell of his cologne teasing your nose, you guided him to the backdoors of your home. French doors opened to greet you with the interior of your large greenhouse. Your aunt sure had a green thumb in her youth, and nothing was more convenient than having nature practically share doors with her. In honor and overwhelming gratitude you had for her giving this house to you, you decided to take up the art of gardening and plant caring. You weren't the best at it. Then again you just moved in and you only started with little seedlings of seasonal flowers and already potted house plants. Veggies and fruits were another challenge you'll learn after you can manage to not overwater or uproot your aloe vera plants for the third time in a month.

Outdoor paper lanterns cascaded in swoops over both of your heads. It cast a warm, soothing glow that contrasted your evening's dark, rainy gloom. Rain splashed down on the thick glass of the greenhouse; only achieving a cozier feel to your little slice of nurtured nature. Plush loveseats of dark and white colors decorated the corners of the space and openly invited you two to sit down and chat more with one another. Thankfully, Graves had better ideas and had plopped himself down into the dark green loveseat. He practically sunk into rich velvet, as he dragged you by the arm you linked with his, downwards. You didn't have the chance to protest or even outright gasp when your back collided with the strong contours of his chest.

"It's lovely. " Graves' hummed into the curve of your ear. His blue eyes fell from the stoic gold lanterns above you, to now the curve of your neck. He couldn't help the temptation of leaning in to place his lips against sweet-smelling skin. "But. I have something lovelier." His voice husks out, words muffling into whispers against the back of your neck.

Ample kisses, slow and steady cause rows of pinks and reds to bloom along the thin skin. His large hands settle on their rightful place on your hips. Just like those nights ago, they decide to squeeze and paint beautiful bruises under the fabric of your short skirt. He's a multi-tasking pro for letting his mouth ravage the curves and bends of your neck with his hot tongue and lips; while his hands decide to paw and knead the more tender flesh of your inner thighs. His large palms cover your thighs so nicely enough, that they ward away the chill of the falling rain outside solid glass windows.

Your head falls back onto the curve of his right shoulder. The angle is a little uncomfortable and hard to get used to, but it's so worth it when he licks a wet stripe down the slope of your exposed throat. Your breath hitches. Cheeks flush a cherry red when you feel his lips curve against your wet skin from your reaction. Sure, thinking about picking up where you last left off wasn't in your mind when you decided to invite him over. You couldn't even begin to predict how a simple chat over coffee, would lead to those rough hands pushing your skirt up enough to let the smooth planes of your panty-covered mound. Both the forest's and Graves' hungry eyes soaked in the black satin underwear you wore. Thank god for doing laundry before he came over, or else he would have seen the crustiest pieces of fabric that were held together with two pieces of thread and a wish. The storm outside had taken the chance to have thunder drown out the deep bellow of a groan from Graves' throat at the sight. All for him. Only for him in this moment, and by God was he glad he didn't decide to go fuck some other chick than follow through with your plans today. He was so lucky.

So lucky in fact that his luck happened to attract another lucky individual to this show you and him were putting on together. You really should consider where you were and who could be potentially watching you getting your panties ripped off of your thighs and tossed in some random direction.

The fold of Simon's hood shrouded his face in black shadows, but it didn't obscure the sight of those thighs parting at the large palm that encompassed your clothed cunt. Hidden lips curved into an amused smirk when he watched you start to hump the stranger's hand. His fingers tingled at how your pretty spine curved upwards, lips parted in silent moans that he would burn down cities just to hear on repeat. Such a pretty thing you are, letting yourself be touched in ways that only looked like soft-core porn compared to what images were running through his fucked mind right now.

The grass squished under his boots, imprints of his soles pressing the greenery into perfect evidence that he was watching. It wasn't hard to find you if you were to find these footsteps later when you're doing your yoga outside in the afternoons on sunnier days. It's not hard to run through every single female owner of your type of branded red car. He found the name and credit card information that you used to buy your vehicle too pleasantly quickly. Child's play as Alejandro liked to say with bright white teeth and brown eyes winking in mischief. He knew your age, your blood type, your eye color, home address, date of birth, fuck even what size of bras you like to wear. It's especially easier to have someone hack streetlight cameras, and every building that owns security cameras, to watch your car drive through empty city streets to get home. Fewer cameras, and less technology surrounding your dusty roads home. He's a man with connections, thank the stars for the 141 and Alejandro's buddies. He'd kiss the man on the mouth with ruddy tongue and all if it meant getting to watch you get off for his eyes every single night.

The humidity in your greenhouse seemed to kick up a notch when your cunt made the filthiest noises against the grooves of Graves' palm. Your breaths were storm clouds of lust and babble of pleas that rained down over your heads. Your moans were thunderous claps of straight energy that made your ears ring and muscles string taut with arousal that pooled warmly in your stomach. Graves' touch was the strike of lightning hitting dry trees in your barren forest. His fingers were electricity that curled through sopping folds to press against your G-spot and alight you with hot flames that crackled and popped under your skin. It was everything that led to a disastrous wildfire that overtook your body and made your legs snap wider when you burned hotter and hotter in his hands. Your body danced and wriggled under his strong grip. Graves was the idiotic man that made this wildfire of yours worse, he was the one to pour gasoline on your inferno when his thumb rubbed hurried circles to your clit and watch you fall apart in crackling embers of charred wood and soot when your body couldn't handle its heat any longer.

The evidence of Graves' arousal rubbed against the swell of your bare ass. Rough denim chaffing silky skin a blushed pink. He wasn't giving you much of a break to let your thoughts become coherent. The sight of his slick-covered index and middle finger scooping up your sweet essence and shoving them in his mouth only encouraged the aching thrum in your belly to begin all over again. You could taste yourself on his tongue when greedy hands wrapped around the back of his neck, and you forced his head to bend down to sloppily kiss you over your shoulder. Tongues swapped spit and remaining salty tangy slick that stained Graves' tastebuds happily. It wasn't even qualified as what your kisses were at this point. It was heavy petting of flicking tongues and hungry moans into the hot caverns of your mouths'.

Between the heavy petting and Graves' shameless rutting against your ass. One of your hands crept behind and between your writhing bodies to fumble blindly with his zipper. His moving hips aided in his zipper pulling down. The release of pressure made Graves groan out in relief, his head falling back with a sigh; allowing your spit-covered lips to press wet kisses along the column of his throat as best as you could at this angle.

Just as your hips had lifted to allow yourself to finally spin around and pull Graves' jeans off his legs; a loud bang echoed over your lustful activities and the thunderstorm outside. It sounded like someone or something had made an impact with the curved glass of your greenhouse. Whatever it was, it was heavy and had enough force to send both of your gazes to the direction of where the noise came from. Graves stood up from his loveseat, eyes still shiny with desire. Jeans threatening to fall around his ankles comically. "Probably a stupid deer. Things run into your damn headlights if you drive fast enough." His voice drawled out to the back of your head. Too nonchalant compared to you. You would jump at any loud noise or shadow if it was too scary-looking.

Blame it on the realistic horror movies that get put out nowadays for your fear and paranoia. "You sure? It doesn't sound like it was a deer. We'd hear it scream or cry in pain." Your head whipped around to look up at him. Shoulders taut once more like they had been when you were alone in your car and found that flower in your passenger seat.

A snort left the man. A shit-eating grin threatening to overtake kiss bruised lips. He found this hilarious. Much to your annoyance, he was going to patronize you like you were some kid afraid that there were monsters in your closet and under your bed. You could tell the next words he'd utter would turn your mood sour in an instant.

"Awh, lil darlin' afraid of a big bad buck?" You were right. "You want me to check it out, sweetheart?" Yes. No. Yes. Maybe? You've got to be overreacting, right?

Your round eyes and shallow breathing were much of an answer to him than if your pretty mouth had opened and half begged half whispered for him to go see if some brain-dead animal had rammed its thick cranium into your glass window and killed itself willingly. A shake of his head and a small breathy chuckle left his lungs. He fixed his pants with an amused sigh. "Suit yourself, darlin'. Wait right here. Won't be long."

His steps thudded out of your greenhouse, and back into your home. You could hear your front door opening and closing. You could hear the muffled stamping of his boots walking down the couple steps of your front porch. It was so quiet if you had the will and ability to, you could hear the crunch of dirt and gravel crunching under Graves' soles. Instead, you were deafened by the trickling of rain and the occasional clap of soft thunder that rumbled in the distance. You stood there, waiting and listening. Two minutes went by. Then another minute passed. Then another; and another; and another. Five minutes, you stood there. Skirtless, with your slick cool in your goosebump-flecked skin. Graves wouldn't take that long to walk around your property, right? He's not an idiot to go wandering into your forest at night and lose himself in the thick canopy of branches and pine needles. He was just going to go around the side of your home and check out the perimeter of your greenhouse. It doesn't take five minutes to do that. You would know, you've done that a couple of times in the past to embrace the outdoors on your yoga mat.

Hastily you bent over to collect your discarded panties and skirt. Heart skipping a beat here and there while you got dressed. The uncomfortable stick of your panties to your lower lips made you shiver in more than just fear for your sanity. You were becoming too aware of how alone you were and how long Graves had been gone. You swallowed, fists clenching at your sides. Damp palms being creased in half-moons from your fingernails while you turned your head to gaze outside to the dreary moonlight night. Your mouth opened, nerves steeling for your voice to call out to Graves.

What didn't come out of your parted lips wasn't Graves' name in a questioning manner, however; but a scream that was ripped from your shaking lungs when lightning ripped seams through the sky and illuminated the very large handprint spotted with watery crimson that stained your glass wall temporarily. The quick flash of bright light had you screaming for something far different than what you wanted to be screaming for that night. Awash tiny rivers of red and the imprint of a stranger's bare hand had been more than a sign to ditch waiting around for Graves to show up. Your heart had leaped into your constricted throat as you bolted into your living room. The door separating your home and the greenhouse was slammed behind your body. It was hard enough to rattle the frame and the wall of your house.

Sweaty fingers fumbled blindly in the dark of your home to turn the lock on the door. Your breaths were harsh and coming out faster and faster. In some fucked sense, you wanted to scream out in the open that you were right once again. You were always right. You were scared out of your god damned mind, on the verge of having a panic attack but you were right. Graves was out there. Maybe that was his handprint on your glass and some animal had decided to hurt him for making fun of it. Maybe it wasn't an animal.

Your mind screamed logic and facts. It couldn't have been an animal. Animals that were killed were noisy to some degree. They would snarl or cry out before attacking their prey. It would have made Graves scream in pain if he got bit or ripped apart in the jaws of some bobcat or wolf if they even have those where you live. If the forest surrounding your home was even home to such dangerous creatures that stalked around your home every night. It had to be something human. Someone was out there. A homeless man crazed on drugs and was able to hurt some innocent person for the money in their wallet just to score a new high. Maybe a serial killer who got off on killing vulnerable people who were out in the dredges between night and evening; just waiting to bury their blade into their victim's throat and hack away till they were lifeless and bloody on the ground.

You spun around on your heel, pressing your spine against the sturdy wood of the door. Something to help you ground your senses and coax the terrified screams that were clogged in your esophagus. The back of your head thunked back, your eyes squeezed shut. Just breathe. You can focus on trying to breathe even if there was some knife-wielding maniac perusing around your estate just waiting for you to be dumb enough to go after Graves in hopes of finding him. You weren't stupid, sure a little dumb at times, but not stupid enough to die like every annoying side character in a slasher movie.

Inhale. Exhale. Tick tick tick goes the clock hanging above your head.

Inhale. Exhale. Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump goes your heartbeat that slows microscopically. Good, progress.

Inhale. Exhale. Open your eyes and look around to find the cellphone you left on the counter next to your coffee cup so the cops can come and save you.

Inhale. Exhale. Feel your entire face go white and mouth open in silent screams when you find a lone red peony placed right on top of your phone screen. Your stomach twisted in knots over and over again till everything in your gut curdled. Next thing you knew, you were vomiting in your kitchen sink from adrenaline and fear. A slurry of coffee and lunch and breakfast painted the sterling silver tub.

This isn't happening. There's no way that this could be happening to you. Some sick freak that not only broke into your car but now your house and could have hurt Graves just to leave behind flowers for you isn't possible. Yet the chill of the now-becoming night air only confirms your delusions into a sick reality. Your head turns over your shoulder, not bothering to rinse your mouth out. The whites of your eyes threaten to pop out of your skull when you see the front door is wide open. Blooming constellations and the expanse of your dirt road greet your bulging eyes. Again, does your heart race ever faster, the color and feeling in your entire body threatening to drain at a rapid state that leaves you uncoordinated.

With legs equivalent to jelly, you cross the expanse of your small home. Eyes trained on the young night sky that taunts you with its ever-calm presence. Even if your world is starting to crumble and fall into ruin, the sky and gentle breeze in the air remain ever the same as always. You told yourself you wouldn't be the dumb blonde that wanders out and gets killed by the crazy slasher in movies, but yet you find yourself standing in the open doorway. Your eyes can't focus on staring in one place for long. Always flicking in every direction at the smallest of noises that nature makes. Your ears strain for the crunch of footsteps that are somewhat human. Your fluctuating pupils fought to try and find the silhouette of a man out in the growing shadows between the thick bark of the trees. Still, you could find nothing of the sort, no crazy killer. No dead body of Graves strung up in a taunting manner there to haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.

However, what you did find when your head had tilted down just enough, was a crudely carved ' S ' in the painted black steps of your front porch. The ragged edges and points of the single letter tarnished your quickly dissolving sanity, your home, and your plans for the rest of the night. The single letter stared up at you for just a second later. That was until you turned tail and retreated into your home, the front door slamming shut behind you, so you could finally call the cops.

#cod x reader #ghost cod #cod #cod x female reader #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x female reader #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #little mouse series #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader

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livlaughloveluke · 1 year ago

Note

I BEGG soft spiderman bf ethan x hello kitty gf reader

Its just an idea, but if you acc wanna write spiderman!ethan i would look thru a few blogs abt that on here since they're REALLY good. I recommend @spiderlandry

Otherwise it could just be what they're into

Maybe ethan gets reader a hello kitty plushie and she repays him w a comic

Now that i think abt it they dont even have to be dating to begin with

Anyways ik its technically thursday so its okay if you dont get to this right away!! Happy turkey day :)

𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ethan has to make up for a wrecked sleepover

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ethans not a great bf but makes up for it at the end

𝐚/𝐧: tysm for this amazing request holy! hope you enjoy :)

you cuddled up into ethan’s arms, the warmth from his embrace making you feel fuzzy inside. you peered down at your matching pastel pink pyjama pants, that were printed with little hello kitty designs all over. ethan had bought them for the both of you, which was a lovely surprise considering you were extremely fond of the endearing cartoon cat.

the obsession started out when you were a young child. the moment you saw the adorable white kitten sewed on a blanket, you fell in love. ever since then, birthdays and christmases were filled with variations of the cat. stuffed animals, clothes, and even school supplies were somehow always decorated with the familiar animal.

your infatuation of the cartoon character seemed to simmer down as you grew older, but it never fully dissipated. for example, when you were a kid you had sheets plastered in the hello kitty pattern, but now in college all that remains on your bed is a stuffed animal of her. however, the simple cat never failed to paint a smile on your face. it wasn’t just her cuteness that drew you toward her, but instead a feeling of nostalgia from your childhood.

ethan smiled, looking down at your face to read your expression. you were deep in thought, staring at your cozy pants. he was captivated by your beauty, and your ability to pull off the comfy look. he was the luckiest man in the entire world. he got to have you, and awesome powers.

your boyfriend, ethan, was your friendly neighborhood spiderman. it was amazing that he was capable of saving lives on the daily, but sometimes his special powers made you feel a little lonely. ethan spent most nights out on the crime-filled streets of new york city, so it was rare you had sleepovers like these. tonight however, he was all yours, and you were free-

the sudden ring of his phone snapped you and him out of your daydreams. he speedily plucked his phone off the coffee table, and answered it. if someone was calling this late at night, you knew it wouldn’t be good. he set off to the other room, with a confused look on his face. his dark brown brows were scrunched together, and his pale lip slightly curled upon hearing the words coming from the device.

he waltzed into your room, trying to get away so he could hear, and you knew what was going to happen next. you filled with sorrow, realizing that he would have to abandon another night of spending time together.

a few minutes later, he walked back out. this time, his eyes were stained with sadness and you sighed, waiting for him to declare his departure.

“y/n, i am so, so sorry but i have-“ ethan starts, but you cut him off, easily able to predict his next words.

“let me guess, another major crime broke out and the city needs their superhero to come save them? it’s okay babe, we can try again another night.” you say, trying to hide your disappointment while kissing him on the cheek.

“it’s not okay, seriously. i pinky promise you i’ll make it up to you soon. i wish i could stay here with you forever, but we both know i can’t.” he states, and you try your best to smile. he grabs his keys and kisses you farewell, promising to return later that night.

he exited out the front door, presumably to change in his car, so he could go resolve whatever issue was causing this ruckus tonight.

you then turned the tv off, and trudged to your bedroom, eager to sleep away the dissatisfaction and pain from this evening.

your salty tears stained your pillow as you silently weeped. you loved ethan, but his constant

abandonment left you feeling heartbroken. you felt selfish, knowing he was out fighting crime, and you still wanted him to be cuddled up with you in bed right now. you slowly fell asleep, now saddled with the heartache of being alone.

ethan was currently swinging as fast as possible through the dark and empty city, rushing so he could he could get back to you. eventually, the pain and exhaustion from the previous fight caught up to him, and he dropped from the buildings to cruise the street. he was out of breath, and every step he took just added to his desire to sleep. although, on his treacherous hike back, the sight of a plushie in a store window made him stop dead in his tracks. it was a large, fluffy hello kitty that stood tall on the shelf, displayed proudly.

he was instantly reminded of you, so he rushed in and grabbed it, slamming enough cash onto the counter before enthusiastically running out. the cashier just stood there, astonished as to what just happened.

ethans heart raced as he began swinging through the tall skyscrapers again. he desperately looked around for your apartment, and when he found it, he impatiently started climbing to reach your bedroom window.

the scattered knocks coming from outside your room woke you up, and you jumped out of your warm bed, cautiously opening your window to see who this strange person was. it was ethan, who breathed heavily through his spiderman costume, with an adorable stuffed animal in hand.

you moved out of the way so he could escape the cold darkness of outside and enter your heated apartment. he ripped off his mask, the sweat adhering some of his curls to his forehead. the lighting allowed him to see your tear-stained cheeks, and guilt washed over him as he wiped them away. before you could get a word in, he handed you the hello kitty plush and began talking.

“i am so sorry for leaving you unexpectedly like that. i’ve spent so much time away from you, and i understand if you want to break up with me, but i really, really want this relationship to work out because i lov-“ he stopped himself. you had never exchanged those three simple words, and his nerves didn’t allow him to. he just continued on, now more careful of his word choice.

“because i care about you. i will give up everything for you if you want me to, just say it and this whole spiderman thing will go away.” you look into his honest brown eyes, and glance back down at your new stuffed animal.

“eth, i don’t want to break up with you, nor do i want you to throw away your life. i just want you to spend time with me. you are the most caring boyfriend in the world, but sometimes i just want to cuddle with you, or do something that a normal couple would do.” he brought you into a warm embrace, and you talked it out. he would try to clear up his schedule so you could have a sleepover together at least once a week, plus all of the times you see each other in class.

you provided him with some of his clothes that he left from previous nights, since his pink pants were now lost in his car, and neither of you had the energy to venture out and get them. you lazily climbed into bed with him, moving so you could lay on his chest. before you drifted off into sleep, you made sure to share one last thing.

“i love you too, by the way.”

taglist- @nowitsmissing, @nikoschrissis, @lvndryyhoe, @ieattoesforbreakfqst, @sevenheavxns, @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome, @imkillmyselfxoxo, @lumaxstans-blog, @ilovejackchampionnn, @hyeyulove, @jackchampiongf13, @sebastiansallowsgf, @michaelangdonsslut, @1212valee, @teenagedramaqueenlisa, @fherlima, @kate4katie, @itsb3a2, @maybankfr

some names wouldn’t let me tag :(

#ethan landry #ethan landry angst #ethan landry x reader #fanfic #masterlist #ethan landry fluff #liv’s writing !

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snazzydwarf · 1 year ago

Text

DP X DP Prompt: A White Robins Visage

We all know about the AUs of Danny being Jason's alternate version aye?

Well what about Danny being the ghost of Jason. More specifically the ghost of his Robin.

Picture this:

When Jason was killed at the hands of the joker he appeared within The Zone. Wearing his Robin uniform that was now covered in blood and soot. The greens barely seen underneath all the burgundy red.

However when he was revived/resurrected he wasn't quite... whole. Things of his past escaped him, almost as if the memories where covered in a thick fog.

It was assumed this was because of the pits. That it somehow scrambled his brain and caused not only the pit rage but also the slight memory loss and cloudyness.

However what no one knew was that when Jason left the zone to the mortal world. Something or rather someone was left behind.

Robin, now called Danny, has only ever known a life within the Ghost Zone. The small boy would be often caught running around with a large smile despite the large, gaping wound on his temple. Right bellow a large patch of black hair, the rest being stark white colour.

Somedays his form would flicker to that of someone older, in a brighter set of clothing. Almost of that you would see in a superhero movie, the once eyecatching colours have been speckled with blood. It's unknown if it came from his bleeding head or there was more injuries underneath his clothing, but no one had the heart to ask. Only Frostbite, the best healer in the Far Frozen knows the answers but refuses to speak of them. His eyes would sadden whenever it was asked, so the topic was dropped.

But one thing was certian. This boy had been so brutalized, so beaten and damaged it reflected in his ghost form. It's known that Ghosts can heal from almost anything given enough time and rest, but sometimes there where wounds that could never heal. Not unless you scared over those in your mind first.

An example of this would be Ember. The burns that once covered her body has slowly faded over time as she has come to terms with her own passing. Now only the ones on her back remain, the most important one as a flaming beam had fallen on her before she could escape the burning inferno. The smoke took her mind, but the fire took her body.

Seeing little Danny run around with the forever gushing laceration caused a grave sense of sadness to sweep those who saw him. How young, a little spark blown out before it had the time to be the light they all knew he would've became.

So it was rather a shock when one of the Bats saw the face of a younger Jason infrount of them. Sitting upon the grave of their brother humming a tune long forgotten by the older version, but forever remembered by the younger.

Flowers dropped from their hands as the second Robin turned around, domino mask wide beneath the white and black hair.

Wait... didn't they just see Jason a few days prior? Who is this? Who is wearing their brothers clothing that they swore was still displayed within the tube in the Batcave.

Their hands shook, and body trembled. Blood, oh oh god there was so much blood. The boy, Jason? was covered in it. What happened?

They knelt on the wet soil, plams held up and outwards towards the kid.

"Hey, are you oka-" right as they where about to place a hand of the child's shoulder it just... passed right through. A cold sensation washed over their body, their hand was through his shoulder but crimson stained their knees in the pool bellow them.

A voice whispered in their ear, light and airy, almost as if a passing breeze has blown through the graveyard.

"Who are you?"

#dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #tw: bruns #mentioned thou but just incase #tehe #danny is jasons ghost #danny is still in the robins costume #even when hes smaller #it's just become dull and washed out #the colours are reversed but no longer hold the shine they used too #you can choose which bat this is #could even be Jason if you wanna #writing idea #i might continue dis lol #SnazzyPrompts

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starman-john-tracy · 2 months ago

Note

"You're safe here with me" + "I won't let anything happen to you" with Casey? :) 💙

John had taken the space elevator down to the GDF headquarters no more than half an hour ago, at Colonel Casey's request. There'd been a cyber attack on base; an attempted takeover of the GDF's long range weapons systems, and though nothing has been fired - they needed to rule out the possibility that someone could. With the tech team scrambling for solutions, scouring the databanks for any way someone could have remotely accessed their codes and their LAN, the Colonel could only think of one man she both trusts, and who’s qualified to step in and salvage the situation.

And with an updated firewall to prevent remote access, that he personally provided the protocol for, the only thing John Tracy can do to help is show up in person.

Only, John's got the soft edge of an atmospheric headache throbbing in his sinuses and his eyeballs are always the slowest thing to respond to the change in pressure between Five and Earth, so, as he bypasses the office full of scurrying IT consultants and heads directly for the server room, ready to not-entirely-legally plug Eos’ palm sized mobile unit into the GDF’s databases to assess the damage, he completely misses the slim, shadowed figure in amongst the data processing banks.

Because the remote attack hadn’t actually been remote at all, and the gunshot wound to John's shoulder, now leaking a dangerous amount of blood all over his IR blues, seemed like a pretty big clue this was no employee.

They're currently holed up in Casey's office - after the head of the GDF had bodily dragged his skinny space ass out of there. She's trying to force him down behind her desk and out of the way, while the intruder pounds on the door: his threats mostly incoherent screams and stray gunshots. John might not be as hot-headed as Scott or his youngest brothers, but he's still a Tracy and, clearly, the last thing he wants to do is sit still while others might be in danger and so the damned fool, who’s clearly never been shot before, keeps trying to get up.

“Colonel, we’ve got to- argh!” The spaceman gasps and jerks like a livewire as Casey presses a wad of cloth - a runner snatched from the fancy corporate meeting table - hard against the dark, bubbling wound in his shoulder. John's feet kick out, heels scraping helplessly against the corporate grey carpeting, and the boy's back arches against the pain in a way that plummets Valerie Casey’s heart straight through her shoes. She forces the emotion away, grabs one of his cold, blue-clad hands, and guides it on top of the wound.

“Keep pressure on that.” She instructs, as the dark stain spreads rapidly into not only his IR blues, but the ugly purple runner too. His fingers fumble and fail to take over the task, and a soft whine makes its way out between his teeth. “Come on John, you know to keep pressure on.” He's having a hard time focusing on her. She thinks he might be in shock.

“But the gunman,” John gasps, his head thrashing to the side, eyes wide, “he’s after-”

“John.” She cups John's ashen, blood-splattered face between both palms, like she would when he was a small boy and he'd come to the woman who was his Auntie in all but DNA with a bruised cheek and a split lip because he didn’t want to tell his Father he was being bullied at school. "You're safe here with me." Her mouth is a hard white line as she unclips her service pistol from it's holster, "I won't let anything happen to you."

The wood around the door handle audible splinters under a particularly savage impact, and Jeff's boy flinches under her fingers.

Oh, absolutely not.

"Security is on their way and no one is getting into this room, John. And if they somehow do," She raises the gun with both hands, holding it steady and level with the door, "they are not getting through me.”

#So I skipped over its bad and went straight to DIRE with this one #tw: blood #tw: injury #Thunderbirds Are Go #John Tracy #JohnTracy asks #is this ok aaaaa

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hypnos333 · 11 months ago

Text

Neglectful

Lee know x Reader

Synopsis: Minho has been neglecting you as his girlfriend and now when he wants you, your perspective changes after a couple weeks

For the past month or so Minho was so focused on his dances and career and can understand that but now you feel neglected.

“Baby?” You called out as he was talking to bang chan. he brushed you off making Bang chan look at you in concern before you smiled sadly at him before setting his lunch on his desk before walking away to home to cook dinner.

You made donburi rice bowl with tempura. You set his bowl on the table as you are waiting for your boyfriend to show to dinner.

Unfortunately he never shows, it’s been a couple hours so now you just called it a night. You headed to bed disappointed at the broken promise he had given you yesterday.

In the middle of the night you felt him on the bed as he wrapped his arms around you.

You would’ve just forgot about his actions and move on but he skips dates and anniversary occasionally.

You didn’t know what to do now but to just leave. When he was off to work, You can’t handle the neglect anymore. So you called F/n to help you pack your bags that you need for the next couple weeks til you can get back on your feet.

You packed all your clothes leaving with your friend, you were hesitant to leave Minho but you have to do this for you.

As day turned into night Minho came home smiling with a bouquet of white roses. “Baby! I’m home!” he said cheerfully as he walked through the front door.

He noticed the house is completely quiet, there was no dinner being cooked like usual from you. he put the bouquet on the table before carefully going to they’re bedroom.

“My love, are you here?” But what he saw completely made him pale all your stuff was gone. He checked the closets, the bathroom cabinet and everything else and he found nothing. It’s like you were just imaginary but you sadly were and he had way too much evidence to prove that.

He knew where to go immediately and you should’ve knew better to pick a different place to stay.

Banging could be heard on your friend door as you immediately opened it to get the guy to stop knocking on the door.

When you opened the door your stupidity was noticed, Minho was standing in front of you with a tear stained face. “W-What d-did I do wrong ___? Please I can fix it p-please. I’m sorry, i’m so sorry” he said on his knees.

The Lee know on his knees begging for forgiveness, the idol from stray kids begging for something he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for.

You were gonna fall for it til F/n pulled you behind her standing defensively and protectively.

“Lee know, ___ won’t fall for your bullshit again, I’m sick of her crying over your fucking neglect so goodbye idol” F/n spat out in disgust before pulling you in her home with her. Minho just standed there in shock and hurt.

After that Minho was just a hot mess, he couldn’t focus on anything but you, He needed to fix things. He sent a lot of things to you like roses or chocolates or letters.

The gifts wouldn’t stop and you were starting to miss him but you didn’t want to make the first move either. So you decided to go back home for a couple of days in California, your parents moved there recently and now you wanted to see them.

Once you left Minho sneakily got your stuff back because now he was prepared to get you home.

He promised himself he won’t me neglectful and that’s a promise.

So after a couple of days. You were back to your original home and somehow Minho got security to take you home. F/n was at work doing more shifts out of boredom so you had to face the elephant in the room.

Honestly you needed Minho and he needed, you smiled as you were driven back to your real home.

#lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #lee minho imagines

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antion-bewitching-bitch · 5 months ago

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Prolouge 1 : The withered rose of a Deracinated Heart; Mary.

The Beating Embers of Van Der Heart.

Masterlist

Next Chapter | Prev Chapter

Descendants x male Oc (you can read it as a self-insert if you want).

TW: Sexual assault. I allude to The Mad Queen being sexually assaulted making her pregnant to Eli; so warning! If you wish to skip, I’ll just color the paragraphs of her assault in red so just skip those.

Word Count: 1k - It's shorter than the teaser but has more plot and story.

Little a/n: This will mostly focus on the Mad Queen (the mother of Eli, the male oc of the story)

Mary Elizabeth Heart. The once vibrant royal Red rose of Wonderland. Once a great ruler but somehow got a madness that cursed her to be a tyrant, sentencing countless of heads to be severed. Her half-sister Mirana Heart De Marmorea, was the daughter of the neglectful Red King and Marble-Like Concubine; was forced to over throne her. With a coup, Mary and her vessels who let her paint the streets blood red, were all imprisoned and stripped of their titles and power.

Now Mary was forgotten, no more was the Red Queen. She now was a withered rose, she was now the Mad Queen. Thrown to the land of the lost and forever remembered as a tyrant. Her and her still remaining loyal vessels left, however she birthed a baby. A child she got the day of her departure from Wonderland. Now a new blooming flower is thriving out of the withered rose that was once so beautiful.

Mary didn’t actually want him at first, nor did she expect to have him. But then she was seeded with a harsh hand on her when she was still chained to the wall and imprisoned in the dark dungeons of the Castle. In those dark hours of the night she was deflowered, her petals plucked rather harshly by a disrespectful knight; one that was supposed to only keep watch of her. She screamed and shouted but her sins towards others made them no longer care for her. Her past vessels can only listen to the nightmare all calling out for help with her in their individual cells but still, no one came.

She screamed so much that night that the day after she could no longer speak; while she was still a mess and tears stained her face, clothes ripped and hair messed with. It was never reported to the White Queen even when one of her vessels knew. She was more anxious and more ‘insane’ that morning after.

Surprisingly that day after Mary was harassed, the truce and peace of kingdoms was sent to wonderland. No matter how much Mirana the White Queen wished to hold onto her sister; to find a glimmer of hope that she will get better and everything will go back to before. To achieve peace, she had to send her to the land of the lost alongside everyone who they battled; no matter the history.

“For all nations to unite, we propose for you to send your villains to us. We shall make sure to contain them, away from all their harm. For us to not be at each other’s throats anymore because of the sins committed by these villains.” written in a vibrant deep gold lettering. It was marked with the blue rose and golden accessories that symbolized the beast king and beautiful queen of Auradon.

For the people the greatest villain of their land was Mary, their Mad Queen. Mary Elizabeth Heart, The Red Queen was now just a faint nightmare to them. The White Queen’s vessels hold a ceremony the night of her departure, nor only as a celebration for their evil tyrant’s punishment; but also for their unity with the other nations.

As the Queen, Mirana held her stance of being a leader and was at the ceremony with a gorgeous gown and beautiful crown that wonderful night. However as the half and only sister of Mary, she held her one last time before her departure towards Auradon’s land of lost that dreadful morning. Saying farewell and tearing up a quiet storm, this however was done behind closed doors. She wasn’t supposed to show empathy or sympathy for the former tyrant no matter what, for if the people saw this; They would riot.

Mary even in the curse of the madness still understood not to lash out or hurt her sister once she held her. In some twisted way she was thankful for the banishing, after experiencing that night. She was thankful she was gone from there. She knows if she was to be there for a little longer; it’ll happen again.

However once she was at that land of the lost, together with the few vessels that decided to still be with her till the end. She found out she was pregnant, a life inside her. Given by the man who now was her nightmare day and night; that made her no longer wish to be near any man she didn’t know beforehand. She hated this, she didn’t want to have it nor can she remove it.

She gave birth to it, but for half a year did not ever want to look or touch it. Only when they were alone one night when the baby was crying, did she finally look at it. He had her eyes, her hair, her skin. It looked like her, mimicking almost everything she looked like but on a baby boy. It was crying, asking for anyone to comfort it. Then while she was just staring at it a few inches near it, something snapped.

Her madness that would cruelly curse her and fog her mind, stayed down. Her sanity came back and she realized it was crying for help just as she was that night. She could help it, she could ease his pain. So just as she wished for someone to have helped her back then, she cared for him. They both cried while she held him close, she didn’t want to let go of him now. He became a beacon for her sanity, she still would have it but she would learn how to live with it.

The child was now finally named by Mary to be Eli, a name mimicking her’s. Eli Van Der Heart, the one and only child of Mary Elizabeth Van Der Heart. Now being banished and dethroned she was now severed from the royal family of Hearts. Now just being Van Der Heart; meaning now they were only “from Heart”. The new baby now being the blooming flower that this withered rose would look after and nurture.

An: HELLO, I FINALLY FINISHED THE FIRST PART OF THE PROLOGUE. This introduced the birth of Eli and a glimpse into The Mad Queen (here Mary Elizabeth Heart) and The White Queen (here Mirana Heart De Marmorea).

I might get to work on the next part after a small break from this. Also I plan to have multiple chapters for the prologue, to flesh out Eli and his relationships with the other VKs and also to flesh them out. Since personally I didn't feel like they had much character in the beginning other than just being the children of Villains and going against that.

I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS! its the official start of the story! also if you wanna get tagged just tell me! i'll make a list <3

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romancingdaffodils · 1 year ago

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Love Kills

City Rockers

part two of Love Kills

bassist/rockstar!Remus Lupin x Reader

warnings: swearing and description of blood

The tension between the two of you only seems to build as Remus faces a rather nasty injury. Naturally, you help him out. He gives his thanks in a rather mind boggling way.

haiii did you miss me AGAIN xoxo

thank you so much alex for alll your help on this one means a lot :3

Often it’s said that punks are the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Terrifying on the outside, but lovely on the inside. Clearly, when put into a venue, this philosophy completely disappears. The gig goers habits of unplugging amps and launching glass bottles didn’t seem too lovely at all. In fact, you were quite against the whole idea or at least you were after the incident. However, it could make nights a whole lot interesting. It was what also led to the instruction of don’t get hit. Which then allowed, Remus to completely disobey this command. As a result of this, blood poured down his face. Surged, gushed, streamed. A bottle had collided directly with his head and had clearly left him with with an injury directly above his eye. The crowd went silent before erupting into even louder cheers. Freezing in shock, the soon-to-be-blood soaked man stared directly into the crowd. Immediately, James stopped singing and whipped his head around to the noise. Which, in turn, caused both Sirius and Pete to turn and look over at Remus. Another bang signified the speakers blowing and as the boys started up playing again to try to kill the time, it suddenly dawned on everyone. Amps had been unplugged too; fans had taken the band’s distraction with Remus as an opportunity. Worst first show ever. Praying to whatever gods to give him strength, Remus picked up playing again as Frank rushed around plugging the amps back in.

Anxiously, you bit down on the inside of your cheek as the band pushed through everything going wrong at once. Thankfully, Alice had managed to fix up the speakers relatively fast and was now stood beside you with a similar distressed look on her face. Unfortunately, the man’s determination to continue playing didn’t stop the bleeding. It was everywhere.

Red poppies turned into bloody rivers as the white vest he was wearing became soaked. He had discarded his outer layer of a jumper at some point during the first song, leaving his perfect arms on display. Now hardly seemed like the right time to be thinking about that though. But, your brain didn’t really seem to listen.

Some of the red liquid had caught in the hair that drifted down towards his eyebrows. Drying up in the sandy tuffs, the blood would be difficult to get out; part of you wanted to drag him off stage and patch him up there and then. Push a small kiss to his forehead, and rinse the blood out of his hair. The rest of the substance had meandered at what felt like the speed of light all the way down to his bass. After staining his white clothes it moved onto the white pick-guard on the body of the long instrument. Somehow, Remus seemed to have picked the worst colours for this to happen. Or, you might argue - if he wasn’t a friend in pain - the best colours because he looked practically edible. On a bad day, he looked positively gorgeous. There, he looked like everything you’d ever wanted and more. You’d never felt more guilty for having a crush on someone before then.

Droplets dribbled down from the bass onto the floor and your eyes finally moved to Remus’s face. You’d been able to look at the area of the wound as you found yourself quite fearful it would be serious. Half of his face was doused in blood and one eye was screwed shut, leaving him in a permanent wink. Thankfully, your gushing over Remus had made the show move a lot faster and the end of the encore ripped through everyone: crowd, band and roadies.

Remus was the first off stage.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Remus.” you exclaimed, grabbing hold of his wrist to get him to stop moving. The gushing blood was forcing him into a permanent wink and you winced just looking at the gash. “Sit down, I’ll go get the first aid kit. Fucking hell.” you said, pushing him down onto the couch. Surprisingly, he didn’t fight back. Now, it was your time to scramble. You ran down the corridor and yanked the first aid kit from the cupboard before immediately running back. Crouching down in front of him, you gave your best relaxed smile. He tried his best to return it. Your mind seemed to be a swirling mess of thoughts of how gorgeous Remus actually was and thoughts of how on earth you were going to clean this cut up.

“How bad are we thinking?” he asked, wincing as he spoke. He already had a rather impressive collection of scars dotted around his body; you figured this was nothing new to him.

“Dunno yet, you alright if I clean it up?” you asked, blue paper towels ready and waiting. He nodded his head and you stood up. Slotting yourself between his legs, you used the damp towel to wipe away the blood that had dripped down his face. It was an odd texture, like partially dried nail varnish.

You stared at the cut, checking for any shards of the glass bottle. None were there from what you could see, thank god. They must’ve fallen out during the performance. “So they just, throw bottles? At you? On stage?” you asked, trying to keep him talking as you applied a small amount of pressure. Thankfully, most of the bleeding had stopped by now; it was just a game of preventing the gash from getting infected.

“And unplug amps, and don’t make us famous enough for a better venue. Fuckin’ shit hole.” he replied, staring up at you through his eyelashes. With all the blood cleaned away from his face, he looked up at you with both eyes wide open. You shook your head, giggling quietly. Armed with an antiseptic soaked cotton wool ball, you began cleaning the actual cut

“Sorry, know it stings. Talk to me about something, anything.” his comfort was your top priority. He smiled up at you, shaking his head.

“Know what you’re trying to do, love, don’t need to. You’re not stupid, you can tell I’ve been through this before.” he said, smirking up at you. Resisting the urge to wipe the smug look from his face, you instead give a large frown.

“Just trying to be nice, let me be nice.” you complained, biting down on your lip as you continued to clean the wound.

“You’re being nice enough already.” he stated, plainly.

“You’re so lovely Remus!” you shouted over the bar’s blaring music. A hiccup ricocheted through your body as you giggled up at him.

“Yeah, you want me to get you some water?” he asked, batting his eyelashes at you. Sirius really did always keep his best friends hidden from everywhere else. Remus was entirely certain that the fact he hadn’t met you before that night should be a crime, so much so that he’d never forgive Sirius for it.

“No! You’re being nice enough already.” you stated, staring up at him blankly. He shook his head, but didn’t disobey your command. He thought he might die on the spot if he left you any sooner than needed.

Your face flushed at the sound of your own words being repeated back at you and the fact Remus remembered word for word what you had said to him. He grinned. You frowned.

“Butterfly strips now, aren’t they cute? They’re like stitches but not stitches, dead new too. I thought Sirius would get in a bar fight or something, that’s why I brought them with me, not that you’d be scrapping with glass bottles.” you rambled as you dug around in the tote bag beside you. Some gut instinct had told you to pack them and it must’ve be whatever gut instinct had you swooning over Remus.

“Yeah? They are pretty impressive.” he replied. His eyes held a hint of honesty he’d never admit as he admired your rambling. Remus Lupin could listen to you talk for hours. Remus Lupin, who preferred to spend his pre-show routine alone in silence; who adored the quiet of libraries and the very slight hum of a small cafe; who often had to put himself at the back of the tour bus just to get some peace would happily listen to you babble on about whatever nonsense.

“I know, right? ‘s so cool how they come up with these things. Right, this bit will genuinely hurt so, I’m really sorry in advance.” you said, giving him a sheepish grin. If the antiseptic was the foot soldiers, think of the butterfly strips as being the artillery. Carefully, you slotted yourself back in between his legs. Your hand pushed the two edges of the cut together whilst the other stuck the strips over the stop, a way of holding the wound together. Instinctively, Remus’s hand shot up and grabbed your wrist, eyes closing at the pain.

“All done.” you whispered, but his hand didn’t move from your wrist. Your eyes drifted down to his own as you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” he whispered back to you. His eyes mapped out a triangle on your face, subconsciously. He truly could not get enough; his hand still didn’t move. The silence in the room was unbearable and you were silently begging Remus to do something. Anything. He must’ve heard your pleas somehow because he stood up.

If you weren’t close enough to him before you almost certainly were now. The only thing separating the two of you was his looming height and even then that wasn’t doing much as his head was tilted down. You couldn’t read Remus. The now three very dramatic times you’d met, you’d never been able to read him.

“Happy birthday Sirius!” you shouted as you waltzed into the Potter household. It was your first time there, ever and my god was the place gorgeous. It was easy to forget how privileged one half of the band were. Sirius had grown up rich with a shitty family and in many ways James had won the game of life. Good family with lots and lots of money, which explained the oversized house that sat in the middle of nowhere.

“Awww, thank you. Look how lovely they are.” Sirius said, taking the gift from your hands and immediately running off to open it. ‘Child’ you thought to yourself as you smiled.

“Hello you.” Remus waved as you walked over to the kitchen counter, where everyone else stood. You didn’t notice it, but Lily raised her eyebrow and whispered something to James. The two stared at you and Remus for the rest of the night. He didn’t speak to anyone, but you.

“Hi. Don’t look at me like that.” you said, scowling up at him. He laughed and put his hands up beside his head with a false offended look.

“Look at you like what?” Remus fought back, though his smirk and small gave away what he was thinking. Or, at least you thought it did. He was referencing your drunkenness on the first night you met with that look, Right? You racked your brains, staring up at him with your mouth agape.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking.” you admitted, still looking up at him. He shook his head and gave another smirk.

“Do you need to?” he replied.

He still had a hold on your wrist and something in your stomach twisted. Your mind was blank and everything just felt fuzzy.

“Thank you, really.” he mumbled as his head moved in even closer. His thumb drew small circles on the inside of your wrist.

“Yeah, no- no problem. Honestly, like it’s nothing, I’d happily do it any time.” you rambled, giving him a small grin and your stomach twinged from embarrassment this time. He grinned and let out a small chuckle. You felt his breath fan against your jaw. You bit down on your lip

“Oh, hey guys.” James announced from the doorway. Your head whipped round immediately as you took a step backwards. Wide eyed and horrified, you gulped. Remus seemed, perpetually, unbothered.

“Hi, Prongs.” he returned, pointing to the cut on his head. “All fixed up now, wasn’t too bad.” he added, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah, all fixed up. Can see that. We’re going down to the pub to go have a celebratory drink tomorrow, we’ve got a day here to kill. Think you’ll be up for it?” James asked, looking at both of you. You nodded, sheepishly once again. You knew he knew. He knew you knew. It was an awful trap to be stuck in.

“Sounds good.” Remus said, nodding his head and grabbing his bag from beside the couch. “ ‘m gonna go get changed, see you later, yeah?” he added, looking at you. Only you. And then, he walked off. It felt like you’d been left dangling off of the edge of a cliff.

“Please can I tell Si-“

“Fuck off, James.”

“What about Lily??”

“Maybe.”

#remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #remus x you #marauders band au #marauders era #bassist!remus #james potter #best friend sirius #sirius black

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im-robins-bitch · 2 years ago

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Something borrowed, something blue (Robin Buckley x Afab!reader) 18+

Or, Robin has a bad habit of taking your things, but gets more than she bargained for when you find out (1.5k)

(Warnings, reader wears tradionally 'girly' underwear thongs ect, implied fingering, kinda pev Robin, underwear stealing, implied pussy eating, implied thigh riding/tribing,)

Something you didn’t find out about Robin until you started dating her, is that she’s kind of a klepto.

It starts small, you leave your favourite chapstick at her house and she just never gives it back. She borrows a shirt one night when she stays over and every time it comes back up she claims she hasn’t had time to wash it yet. You tell her you don’t mind, that she doesn’t need to wash it at all. She insists and says she got some stain on it, the origin of the stain changes every retelling. One night, caught off guard by a surprise visit, she opens the door wearing the shirt in question. You decide not to mention it as she makes a subtle dash to get a sweater, the shirt stain free.

Besides her appreciation for your clothing (which you indulge her in because you think it’s sweet), you remain clueless about her thievery.

She only realises how much she’s actually taking when she’s got a small pile going. The lip balm, a scrunchie, a practically empty bottle of your favourite lotion, a cheap ring that started to turn your fingers green (she stole that at the same time as the lotion). Helping you clean out your bathroom had been a lucrative experience for her. The shirt she initially took sits in her cupboard along with a threadbare jumper and a pair of gloves you had lent her when she was cold.

It isn’t until a particular incident that you realise just how sticky her fingers truly are.

You had been in the shower while Robin stayed in your room. The magazine she had been reading lost her attention and she quickly found herself rifling through your things. She wanted to get some clothes all laid out for you, she wanted to be helpful.

Then she's pulling out your underwear drawer and her heart leaps in her chest. It’s not like she hasn’t seen you in most of them before, in fact, most of them she knows very well. Her fingers graze the different panties, feeling the various fabrics and reminiscing.

The silk pair you wore when you were still trying to impress. They made her choke on her own spit the first time she saw them. She had been scared out of her mind that she was going to mess everything up somehow. Now, over six months later you were still going strong.

There was the black thong you liked to wear on movie nights because of how easy it was for her to slip her fingers into you and the lack of fabric didn’t restrict her movements the way other panties did.

She stopped on a simple white pair, tucked right up into the corner. A simple bow adorned the cotton underwear and even though it was the simplest pair you owned they were her favourite. She loved the way you would whine for her whenever she would tug on the bow and make the waistband slap against your skin. All the times she would see a wet patch on these very panties, sometimes from you and other times from her running her tongue over them. Without even thinking she grabbed them and stuffed them into her pocket.

As soon as she got home and realised what she had done she felt like the worst girlfriend in the world. Chapstick is one thing, but your panties? She was sure you would think she was some pervert. She knew at this point she had to stop, she didn’t want you to find out about this freakish habit so she knew she had to kick it.

The next day she returns your t-shirt and you hide a frown as she does it. She then spends the next week trying to find a reason to go into your bedroom so she can put your panties back.

She decides to sneak them into the laundry basket one day, flinching as you walk in just as she drops the evidence into the basket. You raise your brow at her behaviour, but she acts like you're being the weird one as if you didn’t just find her staring mournfully at your dirty clothes.

She acts strange for the rest of the day and brushes off your offer of staying the night because she has work. Though you know for a fact she doesn’t because she told you she didn’t three days ago on the phone.

When she’s gone you decide to look at the laundry basket, figuring she might have taken one of your shirts again, you were kind of hoping she had. It might have been a sign of possessiveness or it might just have been the fact that you didn’t really get to partake in PDA with your girlfriend without becoming the town freak.

You look in, expecting to be missing something only to find you’ve gained something. There you find the panties you had been missing, the pair Robin adored more than anything. It was impossible for her to see you in them and for you to not end up sitting on her face.

Suddenly you realised that your girlfriend didn’t just like stealing your T-shirts.

You felt your panties dampening and ignored the disappointment when you reached for the panties to find them as clean as they were when they disappeared.

Thinking back to Robins's odd behaviour, the way she suddenly gave your t-shirt back, the look on her face when she was looking at the panties she was returning, you decided you were going to show your girl that what was yours was hers.

Robin was back to normal, her puckered lips pressing brief kisses to your thighs as she slowly made her way up. Your hold on her head tightened, back arching in an attempt to get her closer, to make her linger just a little bit longer.

She must have felt guilty for stealing your panties because you hadn’t seen her properly all week. It was torture, because ever since you’d been plagued with thoughts of Robin.

Wondering what it was she took them for? Did she put them over her pillow to hump? Did she press them against her face as she fingered herself, gag herself with them, bunch them and rub them against her until they were soaked?

The thought was enough to make you moan again and rut against her face. You wanted her to hurry up and pull your shorts off, but she just kept pushing the material up higher and higher. Her nose rubbed against the skin of your thighs as she sucked your skin, causing you to whimper and whine.

You were supposed to be the one teasing, you wanted her to see the panties you had worn especially for her. “Need you,” You begged, hand grasping at her cheek to bring her gaze to you. Her teeth sunk into the fleshy bit of your thigh, her ocean eyes not leaving your own. “Please, Rob” You practically sobbed.

She moved back up, her hands moving from cupping your ass to the waistband of your shorts. She kissed your stomach and slowly kissed each bit of revealed skin as she slowly removed your shorts. Her teasing pace continued until she saw something familiar that caused her to yank them down to get a better look.

You were wearing a striped pair of navy blue cotton panties, her navy cotton panties. “Is that..are those..?”

Her cheeks turned pink as your legs moved further apart. There was no mistaking it, those were definitely hers. You must have known it too because you would always tease her about them. They reminded you of her old scoops uniform.

“I figured since you borrowed mine, I could borrow yours” You grinned at her, looking like the cat that got the cream. Her eyes zeroed in on the damp patch on the panties and how they clung skin tight against you because of it.

“I-I…I can explain” Robin stuttered, suddenly all shy. The tables had turned, as you sat up and she began to lean away, embarrassed at her own actions.

As she sunk lower, casting her gaze to the floral duvet as she tried to ramble together an incoherent explanation, you moved up.

Your legs were slung over her hips, weight resting on your knees that dug into the mattress on either side of her while your pantie-covered pussy pressed against her pubic bone. Her mind was whirling, you could tell because of the way her eyes never stopped moving and rambling turned into mumbling. How could she explain that she didn’t mean to take them and that she didn’t do anything with them when she could feel your slick starting to coat her skin?

You didn't normally like to cut her off, you always let her speak until she was finished or had tired herself out. This time though, you shushed her with an open-mouthed kiss and a buck of your hips.

“I don’t mind, my pretty girl can take any of my things she wants.” You soothed, lips brushing against hers with every syllable. “But if you’re gonna get off with my panties-” Robin’s eyes closed in anticipation of a reprimand but felt your lips ghosting her cleavage as you whispered against her skin. “I at least want an invitation to watch.”

masterlist

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley smut #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley drabble #robin buckley self insert #robin buckley x fem reader #robin buckley x afab reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n

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sha-n-dowbannedlol · 2 years ago

Text

CW: mentions of murder, mentions of blood, kinda dark content ahead!

"You may enter,"

Ayato calls out oh so casually, eyes glued to the papers on his desk. The sound of pen scratching against paper was the only thing that can be heard in his room which was disrupted by the sound of his office door opening, and the sound of your voice calling out his name.

"Ayato..."

Usually, just the sight of you would be enough to spark the light in Ayato's eyes, the sound of your voice enough for his lips to upturn into a smile even if he tries to hold it back—but today is different. The shakiness and panic of your voice was what made him snap his head towards you, and his eyes widen at the sight of his beloved.

Trembling, shaking like a leaf, with fat rolls of tears streaming down your cheeks. You sob as your arms hug your torso, desperately trying to calm yourself down and your eyes never daring to look straight into his.

The sight of you was enough to freeze the Yashiro Commissioner in place, but that wasn't even the worst of it, no. What truly induced him to a state of panic was the stain on your pristine white clothing, the one custom made to match his—allowing all of Inazuma to know just whom you belong to.

Splotches of crimson decorate your clothes, a stark contrast to the light colors of your outfit.

There's blood on your clothing.

The moment he gets over his initial shock, the clan head was swift to get to his feet, approaching his lover. His eyebrows scrunched, swallowing the saliva that has built up in his throat before cupping his beloved's cheek, his lavender eyes darting across your features as he examines you for injuries.

Much to his confusion, however, you seem perfectly fine physically and not in any pain.... and you kept on repeating the same words to him over... and over.. and over again.. like a broken record.

"I'msorry. I'msosorry." you spoke so quickly that Ayato wouldn't have understood you had you not been repeating this for who knows how many times now, eyes glazed over with newly formed tears, "I'm so sorry, Ayato. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Love," Your lover calls out, his hands sliding down to hold your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you but to no effect. You continue to tremble beneath his touch, still refusing to look at him.

"Darling," he tries again, but he still couldn't get through to you, "Please.."

He seems to have finally caught your attention, your crazed eyes meeting his for the first time and Ayato took this opportunity to gauge out your emotions; Panic. Guilt. Regret.

"What happened?" His voice was as soft as ever, but that wasn't what you heard.

In your eyes, he looked at you with hatred. In your ears, he spoke with judgement and disdain. The warmth of his hand on your shoulder felt like it was burning and you wanted to push him away but found no strength to. His lavender eyes, usually so warm and comforting, now so cold and venomous because of your mistake.

"I'm sorry, Ayato. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry,"

Ayato dislikes people who hurt others for their own gain.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, please,"

Ayato dislikes corrupt officials, he does not approve of the way they trample over others' lives.

"Please don't hate me, Ayato, Please, I didn't know what came over me,"

Ayato dislikes those who hurt innocent civilians.

"I didn't mean to kill her!"

Ayato doesn't approve of murderers.

You feel your soul leave your body as all color leave your lover's face. Somehow, his gaze fixing you with a blank stare was worse than him yelling at you to leave his office, or yelling at someone to get the Tenryou Commission to lock you behind bars—where you truly belong.

His silence prolongs, and you panic even more than you already were. More tears fell from your eyes, your lips wobbling and your hands shaking terribly as you brought them up to hold on to his clothing.

"Ayato, please, I don't- she was-" You try to form words, begging him to stay, "She was so close to you- and I- I loathed her for that. She kept flirting with you and I- Please... Please don't leave me."

You clench the fabric of his clothing in your fists so hard that your knuckles turn white. You look down and press your forehead against his chest, not wanting to see the loving gaze he always grazed you with turn into a look of pure and utter disgust.

This is it. He's going to leave you. He hates you. He-

Much to your surprise, however, it was quite the opposite.

Instead of pushing you away, his arms wrap around your torso instead, embracing you tightly, pulling you close to his comforting warmth. A gasp leaves your lips out of surprise, before you slowly melt into his arms.

"Don't worry," he softly whispers, hands running soft, comforting circles on your back, "I'm not going to leave you. Not now, not ever."

You thought of looking up to his expression to see if he was being genuine, but you suddenly felt overwhelmed by the constant adrenaline rush you had the whole day that the brief moment of respite was something you were thankful for. And so, you buried your face into his chest and cried instead.

On the other hand, your lover feels quite conflicted about all of this. This whole incident is just another huge problem to add to the pile of his already growing worries and conflicts, another trouble to add to his already overflowing plate.... So why?

Why is he grinning so much?

Everything he has worked to the bone for will come crashing down the moment someone else finds out about this, and yet, he feels like he is on cloud nine after hearing your confession.

You love him that much? So much that you would kill an innocent woman just to keep him by your side?

You didn't feel him let out a shuddering sigh of pleasure at the thought, his lovestruck grin still refusing to leave his face. His hand rubbing circles on your back slides up to run through your hair, placing a loving kiss on your temple. He didn't know it was possible to fall even more in love with you than he already was, but you proved him wrong right at the moment.

Still, he would have to cover up your tracks. If the Tenryou Commission or the public were to catch wind of this, the Kamisato Clan would be put under roaring flames, and that wouldn't be pleasant for either you nor Ayaka.

"Don't think about it anymore." he whispers, voice comforting, "I'll take care of everything."

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