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luveline · 4 months ago

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spencer x reader where she kisses his forehead and he’s 🥹🥹

“Spencer, are you dead?”

Spencer ignores your question by accident. Heavy head in hand, he’s slowly sinking closer and closer to the hotel breakfast table to rest. His neck twinges with the effort it takes to stay up.

“Spencer,” you say more sharply.

His eyes track like the air is honey. He settles on your sluggishly while offering no greeting, tiredness pulling at him. “My eyes hurt,” he offers.

“Make you some tea.”

“Um, okay.” He’s disappointed when you leave, then dozing, face pressed to his desk as itchy eyes press along lids. It feels as though his eyelashes have turned inward.

You return with a cup. Spencer grabs it blindly, lifts his head to squint one eye open. “What?” he asks.

There isn’t tea in the cup. There are tea bags, two of them, wetted and leaking tan beige along the white china of the mug. Distinctly no tea. You must be tired too.

“They’re for your eyes, Spence. They’ll make your eyes hurt less. The caffeine restricts your blood vessels to calm the inflammation, and the tea itself soothes sore skin.”

“How do you know that?” he asks.

You rest a hand on his shoulder. “I read about it in a book of modern home remedies. It really works. Here, can you tip your head back?”

Spencer is very, very tired, but your voice is nice, your fingertips gentle against his neck, so he tips his head back. He doesn’t know how terrible he looks, having forgotten his untucked shirt, his rumpled sweater vest, his hair sticking up all over the place.

“Close your eyes,” you murmur.

Spencer shuts them.

“It’s cold,” you warn, “but it’ll feel nice.”

Spencer doesn’t care. He waits for you to move. The tea bags you place on his closed eyes feel cold and at first they sting just a touch, perhaps tea finding its way through his lashes, and he can’t confess to noticing a difference in soreness.

“Hey… what’s this? It looks like it hurts?” you ask, drawing a short line over the side of the bridge of his nose. There’s an indent there that feels like a bruise.

“I fell asleep at my desk with my glasses on,” he says. “They dug in.”

“You were up late, I’m guessing. Maybe you should go back to the room.”

“No, I can’t. I’ll be okay. Thank you for the… tea.”

Your hand rests tentatively against his cheek. He can’t open his eyes to see what you're feeling, and he doesn’t need to. There’s emotion to be felt in your slow strokes, how your thumb rests along his jaw as your nail scratches to the top of his ear, then behind the shell of it. It’s intimate enough to summon a different kind of tiredness. Exhaustion swapped for content. He could sleep in the curve of your palm all day.

“You’re welcome,” you say. “I’m gonna take them off for a second to check the damage.”

You take them. Your breath draws near.

A warmth presses to his forehead atop his left eyebrow. Spencer doesn’t know what it is until your nose graces just above it, and your lips part —it’s a kiss. You’re kissing him sweetly, your fingers sewing through his hair.

He peels his sore eyes open to look at you. You lean back as unhurried as you’d ferried forward, your hand cradling the nape of his neck.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask.

Spencer stares up at you. In that moment, tired, aching, and balmed, he’s completely in love with you. You must see a little of it, your lips parting again in an unnamed emotion. It’s sheer luck that you’re the only one awake with him, because if any of his teammates saw the way he was looking at you they’d never let him forget it. And, he gets to see your reaction. Your partial smile.

“Did that help?” you ask.

You must mean the tea. “I feel better.”

“Yeah? Do you…” Your voice turns to cashmere, a thread of bemusement tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Would another one be okay?”

Spencer can only nod as you wrap your arms around him and position your mouth at the soft skin where his hair meets his forehead. When you kiss him again, his eyes flutter shut.

“You really need some help with your insomnia,” you murmur.

Spencer wonders if maybe you’d want to be that help. You must have melatonin in your kisses.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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avocad1s · 5 months ago

Text

In The Eye Of A Hurricane

Requested By: No one. Original Work.

Includes: Dottore, Scaramouche, Arlecchino, Capitano (separately)

CW: Mentions of Characters wanting to hurt or kill you, manipulating, experimenting, the harbingers are a warning themselves, the typical golden blood for the Creator lol

Summary: You’re dropped in Teyvat and hunted down due to your likeness to the Creator. You decide run from your hunters until you run into a Fatui Harbinger camp.

Note: Trying to get back into the gist of writing and i love the harbingers so enjoy this for now :)

INAZUMA + SCARAMOUCHE

- Inazuma was a dangerous place to be hunted. Once the Shogun laid eyes on you the real archon, Ei, left the plane of euthymia and tried to attack you. However the lighting fast swing of her sword seemed to only graze your shoulder, her foot fell into a conveniently placed hole that threw her off balance.

- You took the chance to run away, not without Kujou Sara quickly chasing after yelling at her soldiers to ‘seize the imposter’

- You managed to escape, somehow. You didn’t want to question the absurd amount of luck. Once you were finally able to settle against the bottom of a large cliff, the wound on your shoulder began to sting.

- You let out a wince, pulling back the cloth to assess the damage.

- … How curious… your shoulder seemed to be leaking …gold? You shake your head quickly, you couldn’t focus on that right now. You were sure Ei would search behind every rock to find you.

- And you weren’t exactly sure what her intentions would be once she had you.

- However you had no time to relax before you were surrounded by multiple people, their faces obscured with masks. They all wore coats and gloves despite the weather

- “How dare you stumble upon our camp? There’s a lord harbinger here you know.”

- They seemed almost boastful by that statement until they noticed the blood spilling out of your shoulder.

- The color drained from their faces. “…I it can’t be… right? Surely this isn’t…”

- The group immediately fell to your feet spilling out apology after apology for speaking out of term. You could only look down at them with wide eyes, feeling a wave of awkwardness as they treat you like a deity.

- “You’re incessant blabbering is hurting my ears. Keep it down.”

- Another young man appears behind the kneeling group. Despite his stature, you could tell he was insanely powerful. His eyebrows were creased as he stares down at them, he then looks up to meet your gaze, then your wounds before his face softened.

- “Lord Harbinger! I-It’s…!”

- “Your Grace, it’s you.” Scaramouche finished. “You’re hurt. Who did this to you?”

- He begins to approach you, but when you take a step back he putting his hands up as a sign of peace.

- “It was Ei… she striked me and then the Tenryou Commission chased me all the way here.”

- The Balladeer lets out an amused laugh, “foolish Beelzebul… can’t even see the truth when it’s right in front of you…”

- You decide not to reply to his chiding remark, it didn’t seem like he was talking to you.

- Scaramouche turns his head to look back at his subordinates a cold glare in his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing? Can’t you see Their Grace is injured? Go get the medical supplies.” He barked.

- The group gets up and immediately scatters, running off to the tents a few meters away with the signature Fatui insignia embroidered in the side.

- The puppet looks back at you, “You can follow me Your Grace. You can stay in my tent for the time being and I can tell you just how unfaithful the Shogun has been.”

SUMERU + DOTTORE (experimenting & blood)

- For once in his decades of living, Dottore would admit he was a fool.

-The akademiya declared you as an imposter to Their Grace and he knew he had to get his hands on you. Someone stole the face of the Creator? How interesting… he wanted to peer beneath the surface himself to see how it was possible.

- He had noticed you the second you haphazardly stepped into his camp. Subduing you was the easy part, but once he had dragged you into his tent telling his subordinates not to bother him, he began to hesitate.

-He look down at you on his table, looking blissfully unaware he couldn’t even pick up the scalpel.

- What? No! He would killed Kusanali if he had to, what made you so different?

- He curses at himself before grabbing the scalpel pressing it into your forearm. Once blood pours out of the cut he immediately pulls back the sharp object.

- So you were the true creator. Dottore’s eyes were fixated on the small trail of gold blood spilling down your skin. He touches it with his gloved hand inspecting it closely.

- It was just as the scriptures said, blood as gold as the sun with a shimmery look to it.

- The Doctor begins to stitch you back up, picking you up bridal style placing you on a nearby soft surface.

- He sits down next to you, even while sleeping, you look absolutely ethereal. Like Her Majesty the Tsaritsa had said.

- With you in his grasp he could accomplish anything, using you as a bargaining chip to obtain the gnosis would be all too easy

- Perhaps if you believe he was your only faithful acolyte, you would bless him with the knowledge of the stars or even the deepest secrets of Celestia.

- All he had to do was be patient and he was a very patient man.

FONTAINE + ARLECCHINO

- The House Of the Hearth is usually shrouded by darkness. No one knows what happens inside and anyone who wants to escape don’t make it out alive (allegedly).

- Even though children weren’t used to having visitors, Father always tells them how to treat their guests.

- So when Father returned to the house holding you in her arms, your body soaked with your own golden blood. The children immediately sprang into action.

- Her face was unreadable as they quickly began to grab all the medical supplies they had bringing it to The Knave.

- With a steady hand, she fixes you up until you were stable.

- While she was in the room, her hand grasping yours. The children left to buy many gifts they believed you might like.

- The House was good at obtaining and withholding secrets, and Arlecchino will do everything in her power to make sure no one knew of your presence in the house, in Fontaine, or even in all of Teyvat.

- She wanted you all to herself, she wasn’t even afraid of admit it. She will be as sweet as honey, drawing you in closer and closer until you were stuck in her trap.

- Although she would never hurt you! Ever since she was a child and went by a different name she was sure having you would make everything better.

- Arlecchino’s fingers brush your face, her nails dragging down your cheekbone. Even being this close to you now, made her heart race.

- When the children come rushing back in, she immediately shushes them. She wouldn’t allow them to disturb your sleep, but you would soon wake up to healed wounds and as many sweet treats you could handle.

NATLAN + CAPITANO

- It is… unclear what Capitano’s intent is in Natlan. Did he just want to battle the Pyro Archon? Prove that even a human like himself could strike down a God? Or maybe he just wanted the Gnosis. Maybe even both.

- Natlan was considered the nation of war and once you were considered an imposter, your fate was undoubtedly sealed.

- It was like a nationwide bounty hunt, everyone was after your head and no matter where you hid, no where was safe for long.

- Until you ran into a broad chest knocking you down to the ground. You look up with wide eyes.

- You could tell this man was powerful. Way more powerful than anyone else you had ran into (and ran away from). His face was obscured but his long dark hair went down to his shoulders.

- At first he watches you closely, not saying a word then he kneels down to get a closer look at you.

- You squeeze your eyes shut. This was it, this is the end.

- “Your Grace…?”

- You open your eyes, “w—what…?”

- “Are you alright?”

- You were confused, why wasn’t he attacking you?

- He seemed to notice your confusion. “Youre bleeding your Grace. Did someone attack you?” he gestured to the cut on your cheek.

- You didn’t even notice the cut, your adrenaline had been at an all time high that you hadn’t felt any pain.

- You touch the cut, feeling the wetness on your fingers. You lift it up noticing that your finger was coated in gold.

- “I uh… i don’t know…” you say your eyes fixated on the anomaly.

- He left out a huff, sounds slightly disappointed you didn’t know. “I can protect you.” he says. “I won’t allow anyone to harm you.”

- He holds out one of his large hands and hesitantly, you take it.

- Capitano was extremely gentle with you as he helps you up leading you to his camp. It was like having your own personal knight, you were sure that if anyone came looking to take your head, he would handle it.

- Capitano wouldn’t show it in front of you, but he was livid. Seeing you hurt, knowing that he couldn’t protect you while the two of you were in the same nation sickens him.

- He keeps his anger on the inside, not wanting to scare you as he brings you into his personal tent. For now, he’ll stay with you making sure you’re alright and that all your needs are tended to.

- His righteous nature couldn’t let this go unanswered, he would make sure the Pyro Archon pays for her sins.

Note: So I am officially back with writing! Trial by Combat will be out soon!

#genshin cult au #sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #self aware genshin

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ceilidho · 10 months ago

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader) masterlist

Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.

Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.

He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental.

And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.

Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—

He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.

In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing.

The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.

Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets.

And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one.

It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling.

They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed.

“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise.

Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”

Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment.

“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside.

Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on.

Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl.

Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see.

So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out.

It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.

Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact.

“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks.

“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well.

“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.

“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm.

It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them.

Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her.

Breathe in and out.

“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.

She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well.

“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains.

“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words.

“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—”

“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.”

Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now.

He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it.

“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits.

It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding.

“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”

“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.

“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”

“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.

“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”

“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in.

Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.

He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick.

“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize.

Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”

Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite.

He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.”

Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground.

“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”

“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?”

Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”

Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”

“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.

He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave.

And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie.

Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”

Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being.

“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down.

Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way.

On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet.

Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.”

His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give.

Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous.

It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—

Even the thought makes him see red.

He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased.

“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion.

She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek.

“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed.

His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.

She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room.

He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.

He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.

Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor.

The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”

Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world.

“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.

He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader

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moon7jay · 11 months ago

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Pent up (l.hs, p.sh)

Read pt.2 here

Warnings : Non con, dub con(?), morally grey plot obviously (what do u even expect from me), filth, smut

Heeseung could feel the familiar itch in his chest and palms... and somewhere else. Well his dick to be precise.

He was horny. Inexplicably and utterly horny. could you blame him? His fanbase was majorly comprised of females. Hot females. But they weren't allowed to mingle with fans and that heightened his yearning more. Like craving the taste of a forbidden fruit.

He rubbed an exasperating hand over his sweaty face, breathing heavily through his nose to get in as much oxygen as he could, the testosterone was high in the hotel room, everyone still riding the adrenaline rush from the concert even though it had been done and over an hour ago. The tension was high in their bodies still and he could feel himself buzzing with it.

He knew it was practically impossible to get pussy at this hour, especially with the whole NDA thing and it agitated him further. His balls were heavy and in a desperate need to be drained empty by a tight warm pussy or mouth, he didn't even care, he just needed release.

He mentally thanked God for being the oldest and having the solo room privileges cuz it seemed like hardcore porn and his hand would have to do for the night. He was so ready to jerk off till his dick ached.

"Gonna head to my room" he informed Jay, who was sitting beside him on the spacious couch, just in case their manager started panicking upon not finding him with the rest of the boys.

Jay gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement and went back to whatever he was doing on his phone. Probably texting his girlfriend. That lucky fucker, heeseung thought. Jay's girlfriend was hot, heeseung had checked her out shamelessly on multiple occasions, even tried to get into her personal space a lot of times until Jay strictly told him to back off. Well, his bad, but what could he do? He was just a man who thought with his dick most of the time.

You heard him before you saw him, the sudden click of the door opening startling you enough to make you jump and turn around towards it. With the air freshener still in your hands, you came face to face with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

First thing you noticed about him was how tall he was, looking down at you even from a distance. His messy hairs fell over his forehead , his entire body clad in a casual black shirt and sweats attire. You gulped cuz this wasn't a part of the job. You were told to ready up the rooms for some very important people who would be staying at the hotel tonight but no one was supposed to be here for another hour or two. or maybe you messed up the timings again. Oh you were fucked.

The gorgeous man raised an amused eyebrow at your deer caught in the headlights stance and that's what finally made you break out of your inner monologue and you bowed to him, body on autopilot to do damage control

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience sir, i wasn't aware you would get here this fast, I just need to fix the bed and I'll be done" you stuttered out, hoping a quick apology would be enough and turned back around to quickly fix the sheets, spraying the freshening spray around, hoping you won't be reported to the manager for this blunder.

What you failed to notice in your inner panic was how heeseung turned the lock of the door, setting the bolt in place, basically locking you in the room with him.

You didn't notice how his eyes scanned your figure while you apologized to him, or how his blood ran hot when the word "sir" came out from between those tempting, glossed lips of yours.

You didn't notice how his eyes ran shamelessly over your exposed legs, his tongue coming out to wet his lower lip while he ogled the curve of your ass as you bent over to fix the bed sheets.

Damn, heeseung thought, his dick twitching in interest, already leaking in his pants with how excited he was becoming at the sight of you.

You jumped upon feeling two large palms grabbing your sides, a squeak falling from your lips at the unwelcome touch

"What the fuck" was the first thing that came out of your mouth, caught too off gaurd to even react properly.

You tried to turn around to push him away but before you could even move he was twisting your body, manhandling you onto the bed. Your mouth opened to scream but a large palm stopped your attempt, your eyes widened in terror upon feeling his large body settle over yours, one tight grip on both of your wrists, trapping your hands above your head while his hand covered your mouth.

Heeseung was ecstatic, he could feel how soft you were against his hard body,your tiny figure squirming underneath his harsh hold, wide scared eyes staring up at him through wet lashes, he wanted to coo, you looked so adorable like this. Just ready to be fucked.

"You know I could easily get you fired sweetheart, just don't fight this" He threatened subtly, his calm voice oddly did the trick and you halted your struggling body.

You were a broke college student barely making ends meet. Your younger siblings depended on you for everything and so just the thought of getting fired was enough to chill your bones. That just wasn't something that you could afford. Tears flowed down your cheeks but you complied. Accepting your fate.

His eyes pivoted to your heaving chest, the open button at the top of your dress shirt giving him a peak of your perky mounds, driving him crazy with his rising lust for your body.

"Going to remove my hand but only if you'll be a good girl" he whispered, his hot breath fanned your face and you nodded too enthusiastically, making him chuckle and remove his hold on your mouth. His hand instantly moved to unbutton your shirt, making you sniffle into yourself. You closed your eyes in disgust, not wanting to see what was happening to your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his rough hand squeezed your chest harshly.

An excited "fuck" fell from his lips upon feeling your soft tits, hardening him further in his pants. He duck down to run his nose along your clavicle, breathing you in while he groped the sensitive flesh of your boobs mercilessly. He traced the length of your neck and jaw, leaving small kisses and bites, eventually coming face to face with you.

"Open your pretty eyes I want you to see me do this to you" he whispered on your lips, taking the bottom one between his teeth. His nails dug into your mounds when you didn't listen, making you cry out in pain and giving into his wishes.

Your tear strained eyes looked into his lust blown hazy ones, watching how he suckled on your bottom lip, opening your mouth pliantly when he thrust his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking, lewd noises coming from him at the taste of your tongue.

Heeseung was painfully hard. And as much as he wanted to take his time exploring your body, he was too fucking impatient to do so. His dick was weeping to get inside your warm fuck hole and he was not going to deprive himself of the much needed relief of your body any longer.

He moaned into your mouth, licking deeper while his hand travelled down between your legs, moving under your dress skirt to probe at your pussy from above your panties, making you gasp into his hungry mouth. That breathless gasp and the feel of your cunt was what did him in.

Removing himself from your body he climbed down the bed while you watched him petrified. Nerves frozen in anticipation of his next move.

"Take off your panties" He instructed you while he undressed his lower half, hastily taking off his sweats and boxers, exposing his hard and leaking dick to your terrified eyes.

You sobbed, your thighs closing upon the sight of his member, it was so big and you could already imagine the pain it was going to put you in. You saw how his jaw clenched at your lack of action, sharp and annoyed eyes staring daggers at your face

"we can both enjoy this if you don't fight me baby, or I can enjoy this alone I don't fucking mind it either way" He gritted through his teeth, climbing back on top of you. Before he could reach for your clothes your small hands were stopping him, sniffing softly as you took a good look at him. His inquisitive eyes watched you impatiently.

"O-okay" You whispered and slowly reached down to take off your panties, opening your legs for him. A weird tingling feeling was starting to build up in between your legs upon seeing his leaking length. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't gotten laid in a while or maybe you were a freak but you could feel the moisture starting to accumulate in your pussy.

He bit his lower lip upon seeing you so pliant and ready to take him. God he needed to fuck the shit out of you. "That's a good fucking girl" he whispered.

He didn't wait any longer to aim his cock at your entrance, parting your pussy lips and breaching the opening of your cunt, a pained moan leaving your lips while he groaned in satisfaction at the feeling of your snug walls.

Your hands held onto his shoulders, your back arching at the feeling of him forcing himself inside of you so roughly, burying himself in your womb to the hilt.

"fuck yeah baby" He groaned upon feeling his balls slap your asscheeks, finally fitting his entire dick inside your warm and tight pussy.

He didn't give you time to adjust, his hips moving on pure animal instinct to fuck. You screamed in pain at his brutal movements but the constant bumping of his dick into your cervix was making your eyes roll back into your head.

His hips moved against yours roughly, pelvic smacking sounds filling up your senses. Heeseung's mind was focused on the singular thought of your pussy, brows furrowed and mouth open as he moved his dick in and out of you, enjoying the tight clench of your walls, giving him so much pleasure his entire body was on fire

"your cunt is making me feel so good" he panted on your face, his movements never ceasing, you could feel every drag of his veiny cock against your gummy walls, making you moan in pure pleasure

"You're getting wetter the more we fuck baby" He chuckled through strained voice, hoisting your legs over his shoulders, taking you deeper, penetrating his cock way past your womb.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, moaning helplessly as he grinded his lower body into yours, your colliding sexes making a mess now that you were leaking onto the sheets

"That's right-fuck-enjoy it with me, a little fun never hurt anybody" He grunted, increasing his pace, desperately chasing the friction your pussy was giving him

"Oh my god-" you screamed when he continued to beat your insides raw, bumping continuously against your g spot.

"Yeah? feels good doesn't it baby? giving it to you so good yeah?" he spoke, his thrusts merciless. Railing you into the bed.

Your hips chased his own, opening your legs further for him, enjoying the sex more than you were supposed to. If this was happening to you, you might as well enjoy it right?

Your lips attached themselves to his throat and he moaned, lust blown eyes staring down at you

"You are getting off to this you little fucking slut, fuck yeah " He spat at you in disgust but the twitch of his dick inside your womb didn't go unnoticed by you.

"You like when men force themselves inside your slutty little cunt yeah? makes you feel so good doesn't it baby?" His words only made you wetter, your juices leaking onto his balls.

He was busy pounding you into the sheets, the bed creaking loudly, skin slapping sounds so deafening you didn't hear the lock jingling and the door opening.

"Mhmm fuck, busy enjoying alone?" a manly voice interrupted your pleasure filled haze, your eyes darting to the side as a tall and even more gorgeous figure came in your field of vision. His eyes were focused on you and how heeseung was railing you.

Even though you wanted to hide away from his gaze, the lust filled phase your mind was in was turning you on more.

Heeseung didn't cease his movements, smirking at the spare key in sunghoon's hand, he sighed in pleasure at the way your pussy was clenching rapidly around his dick, excited at the prospect of someone watching you fuck

"little slut, she likes that you're here" he panted, folding your body in half and fastening his hips, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.

"fuck keep clenching on me baby, I'm so fucking close" He groaned, his movements incessant, holding your hips and moving rapidly against you, harsh breaths fell from his lips, eyes focused on yours. He slotted his mouth against yours and moaned out loud, his hips stilling inside you while he filled you with his fuck cream,moaning in satisfaction.

His subtle grinds were frustrating you, needing more friction to reach your own high. Heeseung felt your hips pushing up from the bed to chase his dick and chuckled in disbelief

"you want more dick?" he asked pulling out of you with a pop and watching his thick cum leak out of your hole. You nodded, your hand moving down to circle on your clit, arching into your own touch like a literal sex hungry slut.

"fuck that's hot" sunghoon groaned and your eyes moved to him, his hand squeezed his bulge from above his pants while he watched your movements with hungry eyes. In your sex drunk haze you had forgotten he was even there. You opened your legs further, showing him what you were doing.

"You can stick it inside of her you know, bet she wants it bad" heeseung taunted at him, climbing down the bed and taking a seat on the couch across from it.

Sunghoon was scurrying to unzip his pants as soon as he understood the meaning of heeseung's words and before you knew he was settling over your body, rubbing his dick against your slit, making you bite your lower lip in anticipation of getting dicked down again.

"Where did you even find her, I thought we weren't supposed to fuck fans" He asked looking over at heeseung briefly before pushing himself inside you with a pained groan. You screamed at the sudden penetration, body squirming.

"so fucking tight" he let out through gritted teeth, snapping his hips into yours impatiently.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and arched your body into him. God he was so much bigger than heeseung, your pussy felt so full, you could already feel your high approaching.

"She's not a fan" heeseung groaned gruffly, making you glance over at him, your pussy clenched crazily upon seeing how he sat manspreading on the couch, his dick in his palm, jerking off while he watched you.

Sunghoon didn't question him further, at this point he couldn't care less about who you were, he just wanted to fuck your pussy and that's all that mattered to him.

His hands moved down to help you wrap your legs around his waist and he started thrusting inside of you, a pleasurable groan leaving him upon feeling your wet snatch

"warm and wet, she's like every guy's fucking wet dream" He grunted, his hips snapping rapidly into yours, fucking his dick into your fuck hole in a frenzy. He wasn't going to last long.

"she is isn't she, fucking slut, fuck her pussy , beat it till it's red and raw" Heeseung panted through gritted teeth, his movements fastening on his dick, squeezing his balls and sighing in the overwhelming pleasure.

"fuck yeah" sunghoon groaned and adjusted his hips to reach inside you deeper, making you moan in pleasure, incoherent words falling from your lips, you could taste your orgasm on the the tip of your tongue. "Such good pussy fuck yeah you should get paid for it" He chuckled breathlessly and you moaned at his words. No one had ever talked to you this way.

Your hips chased his dick desperately, fucking yourself back on him

"Yeah you like this don't you? - holy shit-like when men use your tight little cunt to jerk off their dicks don't u baby?" sunghoon panted on your face and you moaned, nodding your head while he pounded you into the sheets

"Cum In her hoon, fill that filthy pussy to the brim" heeseung moaned, his hips lifting off the couch as he watched your grinding bodies fucking like animals on the bed. Hot pleasure was running through his viens and he could feel himself close to another release.

"Shit yeah, so good, feels so good, yeah mhmmnfuck" sunghoon rambled burying his nose into the crook of your neck as his hips grinded into yours, feeling so close, so close, so-

A gutteral moan ripped from his throat and he was coming undone inside of your cunt,the feeling of his warm cum pushing you over the edge, moans and groans filling up the room

"fuck, fuck, fuck ugh God" Heeseung gasped, spilling his cum all over his hand and thighs, his stomach clenching and caving upon feeling such mind numbing pleasure.

Sunghoon's body fell upon yours, grinding a few times to properly fill you with his cum and then he was pulling out of your abused cunt. Groaning upon seeing the mess you were making on the sheets.

Your head lulled to the side in exhaustion, body so sore and mind so numb that you didn't even notice the flash going off as sunghoon captured the sight of your leaking pussy on his phone, saving it in his jerk off folder. He was quick to adjust his dick inside his pants and climb down the bed

"thanks man I needed that" He said and winked at heeseung. Heeseung nodded at him and watched as he left the room fully satisfied. His eyes fell on your spent and naked figure on the bed and he could feel his dick twitch in interest again. Fuck.

Before he could decide against it, he was picking up his phone and dialing jake's number

"Hello?" came jake's muffled voice from the speaker

"Come over to my room and bring Jay with you, I've got the perfect thing for you to relieve the pent up tension"

"Is it your ps5? Because I don't-

"It's a pussy"

Heeseung smiled upon hearing the instant scurrying he could hear over the speaker and he faintly heard jake calling jay's name before he hung up on him.

The night was going to be so so long.

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen smut #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enha #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #park sunghoon #jay smut #sim jake smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #sunghoon smut #park jeongseong

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thriftyshark530 · 26 days ago

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For writers that like hurting their characters

(you know who you are)

Any semi serious injury to the arms or legs can be fatal. If an artery is struck the person can bleed out in 2-5 minutes. If an artery is struck then blood will be violently spraying out of the body, as opposed to regular bleeding where the blood just leaks.

A way to stop severe bleeding is with a tourniquet. A proper tourniquet that you would expect to find in any trauma response kit, as using a shirt or anything in your environment as a tourniquet won't be very effective. The tourniquet should be placed a few inches above the wound, and tightened. The tightening process is going to be extremely painful, as it's clamping down hard enough to cut off the blood circulation. Important to note that a limb won't be at risk of being amputated unless the tourniquet has been applied for hours.

Another way to stop severe bleeding is wound packing. This is where you take gauze and fill up a wound with it. The point is to cover the area that's bleeding, so that you can apply pressure to the specific part of the body that's bleeding heavily. Applying pressure directly on top of where the blood is coming from should get it to stop, however this will again be painful for the victim.

Losing blood makes it harder to regulate your body temperature, so it's extremely dangerous to be losing blood in a cold environment. However, a victim can still get cold in warm areas from blood loss, so most trauma response kits will have specific blankets that will help the victim regulate their temperature.

Any wound that punctures the chest area is extremely dangerous. Air will begin filling into the chest cavity, which will leave the lungs with less room to expand. Eventually the lung or lungs will collapse from the lack of room, this is extremely painful. And this will all be even worse if the attack pierced a lung, which will be filling with blood. All of this will make it extremely hard to breathe. There are pads in a trauma response kit that you place over a chest wound, and they're designed to vent air out of the chest cavity while not letting any more air in. However lungs filling up with body fluids is not something you can treat on the field, and will require proper medical attention.

Getting clapped on the ears hurts and can disorient you.

Any impact to the nose will make the sinuses flare up and the eyes water, making a fight more difficult.

Any impact to the back of the skull can be fatal, or cause severe brain damage.

It's extremely easy to rip off a human ear.

The liver is located on the lower right side of the rib cage, it would be on your left side if you were looking at someone else's liver. Any impact there can put any person on the ground, as it's extremely painful to be hit there. Punches to the liver drop many professional boxers.

Kidneys are mostly the same, except they aren't protected by anything at all. Located in the lower back, the kidneys are completely unprotected from any attack. Any impact here can drop someone just like a liver punch. (I was in the gym one time and hit my kidney pretty hard on a bar and almost collapsed from the pain)

A proper punch is thrown in a way to where the knuckles are the only thing that make contact. This is so that all the force is being spread out across a much smaller area, increasing the damage to the victim.

Any impact to the neck can be fatal, and will make a person immediately start choking, making them completely open in a fight.

Removing anything that's impaled into a person will only make them bleed out faster.

Your body will force you to inhale right before drowning, which we all know it burns like hell to have water in your lungs. Plenty of people that have almost drowned have said that their body forced them to take a breath, even if there was no air to breathe.

The brain inhibits your full strength, as we're strong enough to completely rip our muscles. In times of need, the brain will let go of this limitation, basically granting you super strength. There's plenty of cases where someone was able to lift something off of someone, such as a lawn mower or car, but wasn't able to move it at all later on.

While you can live without water for a few days, maybe even longer than 3 depending on a bunch of factors, that is specifically "living". You can expect to see severe side effects of dehydration long before the person dies. Extreme kidney pain, headaches, hallucinations, dry skin, some organ failure ect.

paradoxical sensation is where you're so cold that you actually feel hot. Plenty of people have been in extremely cold environments and started removing their clothes, as they were so cold that they felt like they were burning.

The body will begin to eat itself if it's gone long enough with no food.

You have an extreme lack of depth perception with only 1 eye. You can test this out by walking around and doing tasks with only 1 eye open.

When blood and dirt and anything else gets in the hair, untangling the hair and straightening it out is extremely painful. It may even result in pulling some hair out, it might be better to shave it off if it's bad enough.

Any recent wounds sting when exposed to water, which makes taking a shower a nightmare when you have multiple of these on your body at once.

As popular as the trope is, consciousness has no effect on your survival. The "don't go to sleep" while a character is bleeding out doesn't really help, meaning you can let your character pass out or fall asleep while they're dying. This can lead to a character thinking they won't wake up while they're fighting off sleep, only to wake up in a hospital bed.

#whump #whump prompt #whump writing #whumpee #caretaker #writing prompt #whump community #whumpblr #writer stuff #writing ideas #writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing inspiration #writing inspo #writing advice #character injury

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theveryworstthing · 4 months ago

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a small selection of ill omen spirits common in myths and legends from mainlander and rabbit culture respectively. ghosts and spirits are different things and no one knows exactly what spirits are, but rabbit priests hypothesize that if they're real (very rich of them to assume they know what's real but whatever) they might be ghosts that sort of decomposed a long long time ago and turned into Something Else. probably not though. who knows. here are some spooky facts:

Mainlanders:

mainlander spirits bringing ill omens tend to be very bestial and chimeric. often they have have too many limbs, shrouded and/or twisted faces, and a lack of markings at the joints that all mainlanders have, though sometimes these markings will be replaced by a cracked texture that looks more like broken shell than skin.

silent weeping isn't always present but it is common, and the spirit never actively cries, its tears just continually leak.

most of the time.

spirits that specifically come warning about death are always surrounded by a circle of mushrooms wherever they go, and may even be the center of countless interlocking circles if they're coming to warn of mass tragedies.

stories say that these spirits can be talked to, but that would involve getting close enough to hear their whispered words. the "proper way" to engage with them is by thanking them politely while averting your eyes and then offering to sing them something in return. you start singing before they answer of course, and then keep singing, drowning out their words, until they leave. never try to leave first and never disrespect them but don't listen to them ESPECIALLY if they're saying anything involving or incriminating the Royals. if you encounter one then you must contact a medium who will tell you what they probably wanted without the pesky threat of blasphemy involved :)

Rabbits:

rabbit spirits bringing ill omens are a little more...unavoidable...if the stories are true. they have something to tell you and they're gonna do that whether you like it or not. which is a conundrum because rabbits, as a rule, do not fuck with omens and destiny and foretellings. letting the universe think it can lead you around is a bad idea most of the time. that's how you get Chosen Ones, AKA, Fate Slaves. rabbits refuse to be doomed by the narrative, they can doom themselves thank you very much.

all this is probably why their brand of spirits are so insistent, because they know rabbits want nothing to do with knowing the future.

but.

it's complicated.

because while most rabbits turn down carot readings and side eye tea leaves, they do listen to these spirits. because danger is danger and they haven't survived this long on the island ignoring information about their surroundings. rabbit ill omen spirits are treated less like beings trying to order you around and more like the smell of smoke before a fire starts or the far off sounds of a predator. a personification of vigilance. if a spirit of ill omen starts bothering you it's best to hear them out. you shouldn't let them lead you anywhere or follow their orders because if they're giving orders then they're Something Else, but if a Black Crush floats through the halls, headless wormlike body crumpling in on itself section by section until it's just a writhing black line dripping phantom blood on the floor, then you should probably check the tunnel stability of the entire warren.

now.

culturally these spirits have a lot of moth attributes and tend to show some kind of damage correlating to the threat they're warning you about. many of them are non-verbal but their messages are always very clear. no cryptic bullshit. if the rabbit encountering the spirit doesn't seem to get the message then they'll up the ante until there is conformation that they are being understood. spirits should be respected and listened to but using your common sense is the most important when dealing with them and it's important not to freak out and jump to conclusions.

#rabbits of downtrodden #body horror #spirits #guardian spirits #kinda #downtrodden #long post

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buckybarnesandmarvel · 3 months ago

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𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥

pairings: bucky x reader

summary: bucky hates his scars, he hates how he got them, he hates how they look and somehow he’s convinced himself that you hate them too. obviously, that’s not true

warnings: scars, self-hatred, some angst, sad!bucky, cursing, fluffy ending

a/n: sticking to a schedule?? who is she?! just a little blurb today, though :)

************************************************************************

He hated them. Every time he took in his reflection in the steamy bathroom mirror, his eyes were immediately drawn to the jagged lines that marred his skin. They were all over his body, reminders of the pain and torture he had to endure with HYDRA, but the worst were the ones that connected metal to skin. He still gets flashes, memories, nightmares, of clawing at his skin, his nails drawing blood at his shoulder as he tries to pry his body away from the filthy weapon they had given him.

His eyes pricked with tears of frustration as he shoved on one of his many long-sleeve Henleys, that clung to his biceps, hiding the horrendous marks that corrupted his skin.

You smiled as he left the bathroom, coming to your shared bed, not noticing the masked look on his face.

“Hey, handsome.“

Bucky could almost scoff at your words. In his mind, he was anything but. Shitty thoughts invaded his brain, how could you love him when he looked like that? How could you not recoil every time you saw the scarred flesh? How could you still look at him, with so much love and adoration in your eyes when he looked like he did? Like a monster. How, how, how?!

You reached out for him, setting your book down, a smile on your face. The both of you had been busy today, barely having time to see each other. You reached out for him, your hands curling around his, pulling him down onto the bed.

Bucky swallowed as he took in your attire, a small, skimpy, sating nightdress, that barely reached mid-thigh. He knew were this was going, he knew what you wanted, he just had to come up with a way to stop it before you finally realised you were better than him.

Part of him knew he was being irrational, the two of you had had sex countless times in the past. Part of him knew you loved him just the way he was, you loved him for him. Part of him knew you didn’t care about the lightning shaped clusters of damaged skin that littered his body, but the thoughts kept plaguing him. It was like a leaking pipe in a small room, dripping slowly until it drowned him. You would realise your worth, you were better than him, better than his past, better than his nightmares, better that his disfigured body and once you realised that, you would leave. And that was a thought Bucky couldn’t bear.

He lay in bed, but pulled the covers tightly over you, shutting the lights so he wouldn’t have to endure the disappointed expression on your face. He closed his eyes, still silent and tried to focus on his breathing, when he felt your soft hands snake under his shirt against his toned torso. He tenses, his eyes screwing shut tighter as he tried not to give in to your touch.

“Bucky...”

Your hands massaged his waist and abs, roaming over the hard muscles and the climbed higher and higher. Just as he felt your fingers brush against the scars on his shoulder, he took your wrists in his hands and shoved them out of his Henley. Your eyes widened slightly in shock and as you started to try again, you were stopped again but his larger hands.

“Stop it, doll. I’m not in the mood, today.”

“Buck-”

“I said no.”

His tone was cold, curt, final. You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. It had been like this for days and you didn't know why. Bucky wouldn't let you touch him or love him like you wanted to, and honestly, it was driving you a bit mad. You let out a small, almost inaudible sigh and roll over, facing away from Bucky as you tried to stop the tears from falling.

Bucky's supersoldier hearing picks up on your small, dejected sigh and it tugs at his heartstrings. His jaw clenches and, as much as his self-hatred is at an all time high, he hated seeing you upset more. He hesitate before sitting up and turning on the bedside lamp again, looking over your curled up form.

"Doll..."

You don't reply and he sighs, rolling you over easily and then taking your cheek in his palm. He saw how your beautiful eyes didn't meet his and he tried not to cry and take you into his arms.

"Doll, look at me... please."

His words are a whisper as he tilts your head a little up, but the pleading tone is barely concealed. Your walls crumble and you look up at him and he takes in your watery eyes, the sight killing him.

"I'm so sorry, sweeth-"

"Is it me?"

Bucky's eyes widen, he wasn't expecting you to say that.

"Is what you, doll?"

"Why you won't let me touch you. Is it me? Did I do something-"

You sit up, now properly facing Bucky, his hand no longer cupping your cheek.

"-because it's almost it been a week and I can't help thinking if I've done something by accident o-or-?"

Bucky can practically feel his heart break at your insecure tone.

"No, doll, don't say that, please, never-" he takes a deep breath, pushing down the lump in his throat. He whispers, "I'm a monster, doll, a monster. I'm hideous, my scars, my arm, my flesh. Every day I look in the mirror and I can't seem to think why your want to be with me. I'm... broken. I'm broken, doll and it shouldn't be on you to fix, it's my problem, not yours, but I don't want you to touch me, to see the... ugliness... I don't want you to leave me."

His voice breaks, sounding exactly how he feels on the inside. Broken, defeated, small. He can't bear to meet your eyes, dreading to find a single shred of disgust or disappointment or whatever may ring his stupid fucking brain could conjure up.

You, on the other hand, let the tears fall, looking at Bucky, the man you thought was the most handsome in the world, no, the universe, or, even better yet, any of the multiverses talk about himself in such a way. Without hesitation, you slide into his lap, your legs on either side of his thick thighs. You look into his oceanic eyes, seeing the self loathing in them. You repeated your earlier actions and slid your fingers under his shirt again. You felt him tense once again but this time, he didn't stop you. You pulled the shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor before taking his cheek and turning his face to face you.

"You're gorgeous. And this isn't some 'you're my girlfriend, you have to say that-thing', you are drop dead, jaw dropping handsome, my love. And I know you can't see that now, but I swear to you, Buck, I will spend eternity proving it to you if I have to."

His eyes fill with tears as your fingers trace over the lines on his shoulder.

"These scars don't make you ugly, they make you brave, they make you strong, they make you unique, you, they make you you."

You place a kiss on the border between metal and flesh.

"These scars are a part of you, whether you like it or not. They're a part of you, but that also just means I love them as equally as I love you, Bucky. It will only be you. It will only ever be you. No one else, not in a million years, not in any universe. I want, my scarred, handsome supersoldier, but only if he promises to try and learn to love himself as much as I do. For me."

Words are caught in his throat, his heart bursting with love for you. He lets the tears fall as he sobs against you, holding you like a lifeline. But between his broken, child-like cries, you feel a subtly nod and a couple seconds later, his muffled speech.

"I promise."

************************************************************************

okay, so a little longer than a blurb

************************************************************************

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twistyfish · 4 months ago

Note

Can we get some comfort from the boys please? God especially after that last post with us being so insecure that hits me like a rock. MC’s selfish for having all of them I wanna be loved too 😭😭😭

(I love MC but jealousy is uncanny)

It doesn’t help that I read an angst no comfort a while ago and I still am not over it- help 😭

sure! i just wrote a double dose of angst so i hope this eases the pain. i don’t know why the hell sylus’s is so long, so don’t ask me.

prompt~ comfort.

content warning for brief mentions of death, periods, and detailed descriptions of blood.

𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴

Zayne

“Please don’t leave me,” you whispered into the cool fabric of his jacket, gripping the velvety material in your fists. You were sitting on his lap facing him, your legs swung around his hips and hugging his sides.

“I would perish at your side before leaving you,” Zayne whispered back. “No entity in or outside this world could rip me apart from you.”

“I don’t want to die alone.”

“You’re not going to- why would you say that?”

“Zayne, I’m scared of dying alone, please don’t ever leave me alone.” Your voice was panicky and you weren’t making much sense.

“You’re not going to die alone, honey. I won’t leave you alone,” he reassured you softly. “Where did this fear come from?”

“I just… I’ve been alone for a long time. I don’t want to feel that way again. I don’t want nobody to remember me.”

“Sweetheart. You aren’t alone. You have family and friends who love you so much. And I love you so, so much more than I can describe. I even think about you when you get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. How could I not remember you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

Zayne wrapped his arms around you, holding your head with one hand and rubbing your hair soothingly.

“You’re the love of my life. You keep me warm on chilly days. You nourish me. Please never think otherwise.”

𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖

Sylus

You were hunched over on the couch, curled up and gripping your knees. You were intensely nauseous, and it felt like a cat was clawing up all your insides. Your periods were notoriously brutal.

You were being extra cautious not to leak on Sylus’s leather couch, placing two towels beneath you and doubling them up. You flipped through channels on the TV miserably, pulling your fluffy blanket higher up around you.

It was all politics and sports. You shut off the TV and closed your eyes, trying to just marinate in the warmth of the blanket.

You were somewhat peaceful, until you realized the seat of your pants felt warmer than usual. Wide eyed, you scrambled up and checked the towels. The top one looked like the Japanese flag. You lifted it, and the bottom one mirrored it. Praying, you lifted the bottom towel.

The leather couch had a thick blotch of red on it, and you groaned aloud. You stood up and tossed the blanket to the side, ignoring the shooting pains in your back and stomach. Upon standing, you felt yourself leak down your leg. There was now a small red puddle on the floor that you were dripping into.

You seethed. Deciding against retrieving paper towels and potentially leaving a trail behind you, you took off your stained pajama pants and wiped the floor with them.

It wasn’t very effective, as you were bent over cleaning the blood and simultaneously dripping onto the floor at the same time. You were too embarrassed to call any of Sylus’s staff, so you ended up giving up and putting your pajama pants in a heap on the floor and sitting on top of them so you wouldn’t do any more damage.

You sat like that for a solid twenty minutes before Sylus came home. You heard his steps as he entered the room and turned your head, both dreading and being relieved at his arrival. His expression changed from suave to confused as he saw you on the floor sitting on your pants.

And then he saw the bloody towels and stain on the couch. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m so sorry,” you started.

“That’s a lot of blood. Are you okay?” His voice was soft and concerned.”

“Yeah, it’s just my period. Aren’t you mad about the couch?”

“Me? Mad about a couch? I can replace this a thousand times over. I’m more concerned-,” he bent down next to you, “-about the amount of blood coming out of you.”

You looked at him, both weary and confused. “I told you, it’s just my period. It’s pretty standard to bleed a lot.”

He shook his head. “Not that much. Get up.” You complied and stood up, revealing your pajamas which were soaked through by now. His scarlet eyes widened. “What the hell? That’s not normal.”

“It is normal. It happens every month.”

He shook his head, picking up your soiled pajamas and towels in one hand and wrapping his other hand around your bloody thighs. He hoisted you up like you were weightless, ignoring your protests.

“Sylus! I’m covered in blood, stop touching me!”

“You act as though I haven’t seen bodies doused in blood.”

“That’s different. This is blood from my literal va-“

“I’m plenty familiar with that orifice of yours, my love.”

“Oh my god.”

𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝

Rafayel

Your cheeks were flushed, and you were hacking up what felt like several lungs. After much harassing from Xavier, you had taken a sick day and were now taking the hottest shower of your life in an attempt to steam out all the muck in your throat.

You blew your nose one last time before exiting the shower, getting dressed with a heavy head. The air in the bathroom was hot and damp from your shower, and you felt like you were swimming as you walked to your bedroom. You ended up clumsily turning the fan on and collapsing on your bed.

And then the doorbell rang. Of course it did, because you and Rafayel had made plans for a movie night that you’d forgotten to cancel. You groaned into the mattress and forced yourself to get up. You answered the door with what must have still been a very pink face, because Rafayel immediately said, “You’re all red. Are you that nervous to see me?”

“I’m sick.”

He immediately pulled away and lifted his shirt over his mouth. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“I was busy being sick, genius.” You were too tired to banter. You sneezed, to which Rafayel made a face. “You need some TLC, Ms. Bodyguard. I’ll be happy to assist. From a distance, of course.”

You didn’t feel like arguing, so you allowed him to lead you inside and prepare you some stew and hot chocolate. It was surprisingly comforting, and Rafayel didn’t pretend to be disgusted when you coughed up mucus. He rubbed your back while you coughed and attacked you with kisses when you sat quietly with a throbbing head.

Even when you pushed him away, reminding him that he would likely get sick from all his close contact, he waved away your worries.

“I need you to recover as quickly as possible so you can protect me. When I’m sick, you can just pay me back.”

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Xavier

You fell out of a tree. That was the short version of it. You and Xavier were having a climbing contest, and the branch you’d been holding onto wasn’t very stable. Well, the branch itself was stable, but the bark you were gripping wasn’t. It ripped off in your hands and took you with it.

You let out a squeaky noise when you hit the ground, almost like a dog toy. You would have laughed at yourself if you weren’t in so much pain.

“__! Shit, shit, shit!” Xavier was down the tree in an instant, like a rodent that spotted a snake. He sprinted to your side and hovered over you frantically while you laid on your back and tried to regain your breath. He ended up refraining from calling an ambulance because you had enough life in you to beg him not to. So, he drove you to urgent care instead.

Thankfully you weren’t hurt too badly, but you did end up with a bruised tailbone and a fractured rib, so now you were in the middle of the healing process with Xavier asking you questions every twenty minutes or so.

He’d ask, “Are you in pain?” to which you’d respond, “Yes.” And then he’d ask “Where?” And you’d angrily say “My butt.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay, it was my fault.”

“But climbing the trees was my idea.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Do you need a butt massage?”

“No, idiot.”

Xavier was very apologetic for the next couple of weeks, sleeping over at your house every other day and bringing you burnt baked goods to tide you over. He took care of you in his own sweet way.

#love and deepspace x reader #lads #love and deepspace #lads x you #lads x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #reqs open #xavier x reader #sylus x reader #comfort

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howtofightwrite · 7 months ago

Note

Is it possible to punch someone in the face in a way that causes visible damage, but doesn't impair them much in the long term?

It's extremely possible.

Your face is, mostly, a lot of soft tissue positioned directly over bone. This means that blows to the face, even relatively minor ones, are likely to produce disproportionately nasty looking injuries, without inflicting any meaningful impairment.

The first two are bleeding. Either from splitting the skin open, or via bruising. When there is bruising, there's also going to be some swelling (because there's relatively few places for the blood to go), so the victim has extremely visible injuries, which will be painful, but are otherwise mostly cosmetic.

Of course, bleeding from the face will look incredibly bad, whether that's from the nose, a split lip, or from simply from the skin tearing during the punch, but, again, that's going to be mostly cosmetic.

Cuts in the mouth can be a bit worse, but again, this can result in symptoms that look much worse than they are. Normally, if you're coughing up blood, that's an extremely bad situation, however, if someone has punched you in the nose and started a bleed running back down your throat, or if you've bitten your tongue or cheek, you may be literally spitting up blood, without being in serious peril.

Cuts to the cheeks and lips can also be caused by your foe driving the soft tissue into your teeth. This can also result in injuries that have difficulty clotting. The actual blood loss isn't serious, but it can be annoying if you've gotten a gashed lip that refuses to stop leaking blood for hours. (I'm speaking from personal experience here.)

A broken nose is a bit more serious. Not because they're particularly dangerous, but because it's likely to permanently alter the angle of your nose. This will also result in a lot of blood making the injury look worse than it actually is. Again, you're not going to lose a meaningful amount of blood, but it'll look exceptionally bad.

While it's less likely to occur with a punch, cuts to the forehead, even relatively solid gashes, are another cases where it will look far worse than the injury is. Your forehead is one of the most heavily armored portions of your body, and cuts there are likely to cause a lot of visible bleeding, without resulting in a meaningful loss of blood. If your body works the way it's supposed to, bleeding from the forehead should get into your eyebrows and flow around your eye, without obscuring your vision. In practice, you absolutely can get blood in your eyes, depending on your facial structure. I can't really speak to that experience, though I'd be inclined to say it's probably not especially pleasant.

Now, a lot of facial injuries hurt. Your face has a lot of nerve endings, and those are quite happy to report to your brain, when something's just caused it harm. This is especially true of your lips and tongue, as you use those organs extensively to evaluate the safety of the food you consume (even if you don't think about it.) (Chewing off a portion of my own lip to get the bleeding to stop still ranks as one of the most unpleasant bits of field care I've every experienced, and I strongly recommend not seeking out that experience.) So, this isn't without any impairment whatsoever, but in general, these aren't going to be life altering injuries, or even wounds that require weeks to fully recover from. Facial injuries are singularly unpleasant, but they are rarely serious. (Unless we're talking about damage to the eyes, or broken bones. Both of which are unlikely outcomes from punches.)

In a somewhat perverse way, blows to the face is ideal for inflicting injuries that look far worse than they actually are.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers

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saphiccarma · 11 days ago

Text

- Sweet Thing

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - Sirens weren't all that bad, instead hunted for their tails that had glimmering scales worth a high amount of value. Agatha and Rio intended to sell your tail, but soon became rather attatched

Warnings: Kidnapping (fishnapping?), spear wound, non consensual kissing (Kind of? Reader doesn't know human customs so it's a bit iffy)

A/N: Uhm- I fell in love with this prompt and this is my fav thing I've written for aaa week so far.

Sirens were creatures of the sea, brilliant ones that were meant to swim free and wild. Unlike most tales, you did not sing sailors to their death, only a few sirens chose to do that. The sun bore down on the vast ocean, not able to reach the depths where you lived, so you swam near the surface. It was a dangerous move to do so. Pirates still roamed the seas, even as far out as you were, and sirens' tails sold for a high price.

Typically, you lived in the depths where humans couldn't reach, swirling in between coral and rocks while following colorful fish. Flat areas were used as farming grounds for food. It was a perfect life, yet part of you still longed for the human world. You had never gone close to shore before, always living too far out. Not only that but your father had prevented you from contact with humans.

As you grew older, so did your defiance for your father and you had been wandering closer to the surface, going further away from home and closer to the shore. Once you had gotten close enough to hear voices. People danced along the shore in the night, sticks with a bright thing glowing off of them. From what you had heard they were torches. Humans swung their arms and feet, joyful laughter echoing as odd garments attached to them swayed with their movements.

You wished so desperately to join them.

Sirens were rumored to be able to transform into humans, tails shifting to legs, gills and fins disappearing into your skin. The odd tint of your skin would disperse, and you would look like a normal person. You never had the confidence to try it out. Humans wore these odd things, clothes, your grandma called them. Sirens didn't have clothes. You figured you would stand out too much and that was the last thing you wanted if you were trying to explore the human world.

Seagulls cawed above you as you leisurely floated near the surface, the tip of your tail peeking out. There was only a split second you had after you saw them. A large ship, its sides climbing up and up, wooden panels lined up neatly to prevent water from getting in. Large metal nozzles peaked out the side. Silver flashed through the air and then there was a piercing pain in your tail.

Yelping, you paled when you bled into the water, a sharp spear sticking out of your tail. Panic overcame you as you reached to pull it out, wincing at the sting. It had gone all the way through your tail. Scales came out with it, leaving bare skin and a large hole in your tail. Shock kept you stuck in place, staring at the gaping gap in your tail that leaked a bright red.

"Dammit Billy!" You heard a voice curse from the ship and your head snapped up, eyes widening with fear, "You weren't supposed to hit the tail."

Once again you hardly had time to react before a net was hurling at you. With your tail damaged and pain pulsing through you, you weren't able to get away as the net dropped down on you and closed all around you. A scream bubbled in your throat. There was a harsh tug and then you were dangling in the air, your blood dripping into the water and you could see shark fins circling below.

You winced as your body slammed into the ship, wood digging into your sensitive skin. Thrashing as you were dragged across the wood, you tried to break free. But your tail flapped uselessly, and your arms did nothing against the ropes. A taunting chuckle echoed behind you, and you were no longer being dragged across the wood. You stopped in your struggles for a moment, meeting eyes with a woman.

Her piercing eyes were an icy blue, framed by brown hair that fell around her face and highlighted her sharp cheekbones. Her tongue dragged over her pink lips as she crouched, one hand on her knee, and studied you.

There was nothing you could do to stop the fear that tore through your system. It overran any common sense you otherwise would've had and numbed the pain in your tail. Blood leaked onto the deck, seeping into the wood and staining it an even darker color.

Another woman stood behind the blue eyed one. This one had big brown eyes, one that was often associated with childlike innocence, but she looked anything but innocent. Her lips, a pale pink, were pulled into a smirk that made her eyes twinkle with dark joy. A knife twirled between her fingers and when your gaze caught on it your breath hitched. Sun light bounced off it, highlighting the sharp edge.

She met your eye, pausing in her fidgety movements, and held the knife up for you to see. You flinched back, trying to get away. Your eyes flickered around for an escape, searching for somewhere to go.

It was then that you noticed how many people were here, watching in silence. There were four others on board. A woman who had a pink shirt, one with red in her hair, and older woman who looked weird, and a young boy - the youngest out of all of them. His eyes were wide, and face flushed as he looked away from you, keeping his gaze

Inhaling shakily, you forced a question past your lips, "What do you want with me?" Your words were unsteady, hesitance and fear dripping from them.

"Well, we wanted your tail," the blue-eyed woman drawled, "But then Billy hit it, so you have no more use, hon."

"You’re pirates," you breathed softly. If you thought you were scared before, it was worse now. Your heart beat frantically in your chest. Humans may have portrayed sirens as these horrible creatures, luring sailors to their death for fun, but that was only some of you. Sirens told tales of pirates who murdered their friends in cold blood, laughing as the blood tainted the water and dolphins pocked at their bodies sadly. Pirates were the most brutal type of humans.

"Well, I thought that was obvious," She glanced around dramatically, her long fingers flaring around. Your tail twitched.

"She needs medical care Agatha," the boy, Billy you think, said. He made a pointed glance towards your tail which was leaking out onto the deck, a steady stream of blood. Your head was lightheaded as you propped yourself on your elbows.

"Put me back in the water and I'll be fine," you mumbled. Your father will find you. Or the fish would tell him. It didn't matter but you would rather die in the ocean then on this ship.

Agatha scoffed, her head tipping back slightly, "That's funny." She leaned closer for a brief moment, eyes slowly dragging from your face down to the gaping wound in your tail. "Billy go get some cloth and a needle with string. And what are the rest of you doing? Get back to work!" Everyone but the brown eyed brunette left, Billy scurrying away to get whatever she ordered.

With a small nod from Agatha, the other woman stepped forward, her smirk widening as she twirled her knife around. You flinched when she bent down, prepared for more pain. Except she only cut through the rope and let it fall to the floor.

"She's skittish," She said, glancing at Agatha with some sort of emotion gleaming in her eyes, "I like it."

Billy came back a moment later, carrying a bundle of cloth in his hand with a needle and string in the other. He averted his eyes towards the ground as he got closer. The shiny metal caught your eyes, and they widened in more fear. You tried to scramble back, no longer tangled by the rope, but it did little use when Agatha grabbed the tip of your tail and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as she held you firmly in place, despite your frantic squirming.

"Hold still," she snapped. Her hands were surprisingly tender as they pressed the cloth onto your wound, the white material becoming red quickly. The other woman knelt by your head, her hands held out placatingly before she pressed down on your shoulders, forcing you to lay down. Her eyes lingered on your chest for a moment, something dark in her eyes.

"How does your healing work?" Her words were soft, not matching the mischievous glint in her eyes.

You gasped when Agatha pressed down on the wound, your tail flicking up, "Uhm- like normal?"

You watched as Agatha raised an unimpressed eyebrow as she wiped the blood on your tail, the cloth occasionally catching on your scales. They shimmered under the sunlight, and you were suddenly aware of how hot it was up here. It was like you were being held above a heat vent, the water bubbling and searing your skin. Your skin and scales were drying out.

Baring your teeth, you hissed when Agatha swiped through the wound, her towel collecting blood and giving you a clearer view. A hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up and forcing your mouth open. An offended sound left your throat as the brown eyed woman examined your mouth. She squeezed your cheeks and leant closer.

Their hands were all over you, on your tail, your face - it was too much. You shoved at the woman holding your face, although that did nothing but make her tighten her grip and grin wildly. Her eyes were ablaze with delight as she tugged your face close.

"Don't do that," her voice was light, almost like a song, "Be nice."

Agatha scoffed from her spot at your tail, glancing up with a small smile. You would snarl at her if you could, but the other woman still held you tightly. Her grip was bruising against your face and her nails dug into your skin. She hummed as she twisted you, giving her different angles of your fangs that protruded like spikes from your gums.

It was a defense mechanism that ran in your specific genes, but it did nothing to help you now. Finally, she let you go, her fingers uncurling from your cheeks, but her eyes never left your face.

"Can you have stitches?" Agatha was threading the string through the needle as she asked the question, sitting back on her shins.

You blinked, wide eyed and confused, "Those are?"

"I'll take that as a no," she sighed, chewing on her lower lip, "How do you heal?"

"I've never-" you shrugged. Pain throbbed from your tail, worse than anything you had ever felt. You had gotten small nicks and cuts before. "Nothing has been this bad."

Agatha threw the needle onto the ground, "Well that's helpful." She glared at you as if it was your fault that you had been speared through your tail. You returned her harsh look.

"Water," you croaked, your throat suddenly dry. The two women exchanged a glance before the unknown one stood, her boots clicking on the floor. Biting pain coursed through your veins, and you wished it would stop. The harsh sun beating down didn't help as you lacked the familiar comfort of the sea. A moment later the other woman returned, a bucket in her hands before she splashed it all over your tail. It wasn't graceful or much but soothed the ache of the puncture.

Agatha leaned past your tail, cupping your chin in her face with a sick grin, "I think I'll keep you."

^____________^

A few day cycles in you figured out how to turn into your human form, your tails becoming legs and gills vanishing. The only thing that remained was your sharp teeth. It was awkward at first, stumbling around as you tried to figure out how to walk. They made it look so easy and Agatha and Rio laughed as you fell flat on your face.

The two had dressed you in their clothes. It felt restricting to be confined by such human things and you hated it, but apparently that was what was expected by humans. You were stuck in their room, stuck to stare longingly out into the sea as you watched the waves crash up against the side of the boat, but they never let you out. If you were let out, you were bolt in an instant and jump into the sea.

Billy brought you food on a tray with a sympathetic smile and a soothing voice. He offered empathy, a listening ear, which you turned down at first. Then days turned into more and you were still stuck in the room. You took up Billy's offer to talk when the days began to become longer and longer, drawing out as if they would never end.

Agatha and Rio would return at night, snuggling up in their bed as you slept on one parallel to theirs. Once you had woken up to the bed creaking and obscene moans being drawn out. You had flipped over, the blanket pulled up to your shoulder, as you sat still as a rock in bed. After casually mentioning it to Billy when he came to see you, he turned bright red and spluttered before explaining it was the way humans reproduced. You decided not to question it more after that.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, the door creaked open, Agatha walking in. Rio trailed behind with her hands shoved casually in her pockets. Per usual, you scrambled back as far as possible on your bed, hissing. Agatha rolled her eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed, eyes scanning over you in a way you would never understand. It was as if she was trying to see inside of you. She scooched closer and you bared your teeth.

Lips curling in annoyance, Agatha's hand shot forward, grabbing your chin. There was a split second before she had a tool in her hand, pliers if you remembered correctly, and they were latched tight onto your teeth.

She leaned in close, her eyes narrowed, "I told you to stop that," her voice was low, a warning, "I will give you one more chance before I yank your teeth out, understand?"

Rio was smirking behind her when you glanced back, your cheeks flushed a dark red. Agatha raised a brow.

"Understood?"

You huffed but nodded the best you could with her firm grip on you. Her nails dug into your skin one more time before she let go with a satisfied smirk. Closing your mouth, you licked your lips and sat back, face red as the tomatoes Billy showed you how to juggle with once. Agatha twirled the pliers in her fingers before shoving them into her pocket.

"How would you like to leave this room?" Agatha's words sent a jolt of joy through you, and you perked up, pointed ears alert and ready to hear what she had to say. She smiled at your excitement, "Hang on pretty girl, there's a couple things first. If you try to run, I will lock you back up in this room again. You are to stay by my side. Do not make me tie you up like a dog."

You tilted your head, blinking at her. What was a dog? Although being tied up did not sound like fun, after a moment you reluctantly nodded. There was hardly a moment before Rio's hand was latched onto your forearm and she was dragging you out. You stumbled over your own two feet, still not used to without a fin, and let Rio drag you along. Not that you had a choice.

You glanced back at Agatha for help, but the woman was just watching in amusement, eyes twinkling brightly.

"Alright," Rio said softly, shoving a door open, "Here's the sun."

Blinking, you took in the sunlight, hand coming up to shield your eyes. It shone down brightly, a harsh heat compared to the cool of the bedroom. While the coolness reminded you of the depths of the ocean, it was nice to see the sun again. You tilted your face up, closing your eyes and letting the heat seep into your skin. You hardly noticed Rio's grip on your arm, or the way it loosened, and she stood watching you with a soft smile.

"Y/N!" Billy's loud voice interrupted your peace, and your eyes snapped open. He was running towards you, shirt untucked and flapping in the slight wind like his fluffy black hair.

You forced a smile onto your lips after a nervous glance at Rio, "Hey Billy."

He grabbed your hand, tearing you away from Rio. You were partially glad for the distance from the woman, but a part of you wanted to be near her. Billy dragged you up the stairs, once again tripping over your own two feet. It was a miracle that they managed to stay on them for the whole day.

The sea splashed against the side of the boat, a consistent and steady sound that made you long for the sea even more. That deep yearning inside of you arose again, even stronger than before. Your eyes latched onto the waves, imagining yourself in them. You would no longer have legs - you would have a fin and gills again and the wet feeling of the water on your skin.

The fish circling around you, the water cool and comforting. A little bit of sun shining through the blue surface when you came up. Your family's faces were slowly fading from your mind, but you still longed to be with them again.

You didn't realize that since you stopped so did Billy, his hand still in yours as he stared at you.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "You don't deserve this."

You shrugged. Maybe you did deserve it. Even after hundreds of lectures from your father, you still chose to push your luck. The thrill of adrenaline you got made it all worth it. If you had just listened, then this never would have happened.

"Billy," Agatha's voice cut through the air, "I'll take her from here."

Billy smiled sheepishly, directing one to you with a deeper meaning, before he scurried off. Agatha gave him an affectionate glance before she turned her eyes to you, an unamused look in them.

"Don't let Billy drag you around." She muttered it like it was a piece of advice, but it sounded more like a command. You rolled your eyes at her and curled your lips in defiance. Agatha narrowed her eyes and grabbed you by the arm. "Watch the attitude."

And once again you were tempted to respond with some sort of snark but refrained in exchange for walking away and further up the deck. The wind blew your hair in your face and whipped against your skin. It wasn't so different from the underwater currents and made you miss home even more. Agatha trailed behind you, although you could hear a second set of footsteps that told you Rio was there too.

You wandered up the front of the ship and stared down into the water. It would be so easy to jump.

A hand clamped down your shoulder and hot breath hovered by your ear, "You gonna jump?" Rio lips brushed against your cheekbone as she leaned even closer, and you could feel her chest press up against your back. A part of you wanted to pull away from her touch, leap into the water and enjoy the comforting embrace, but something held you there. It wasn't Rio's hand, nor Agatha's piercing gaze.

Even as you tried to pick your feet up off the wooden deck, you failed. It was as if you were stuck in place. Frustration boiled in your stomach as time passed on and your brows furrowed.

The waves crashed against the ship, seemingly more aggressive in tune to your emotions. Tears of resentment pooled in your eyes and your fists clenched.

"Why?" you croaked, "Why not just let me go?"

Rio's lip teased the column of your throat, and you shrugged her off while your heart pounded in your chest. You could practically feel her smirk even though you couldn't see her. The movement of her lips felt personal although you didn't know why, it felt as if it meant more, but you didn't know why. Her arms slowly circled around your waist, tugging you even closer and trapping you.

"Because you're too sweet to let go," she whispered against your skin. Your lip wobbled as she squeezed you tight and kept her palms flat against your stomach. Dolphins surfaced, their fins peeking through the top of the water as they leapt and dived happily. It irked you that you couldn't be there with them. You used to swim with dolphins every chance you got, swerving through you their pods like an obstacle course.

The thought only made your eyes burn further and your heart tighten.

"I want to go home."

You hated how broken your voice sounded, how cracked it was. Desperation leaked through as you felt a tear fall. Another human weakness. It trailed down your cheek and you felt Agatha's hands cup your face, turning you towards her. Blue eyes, shimmering with desire, met yours. Except hers weren’t filled with tears. Agatha’s hands were so gentle on your face, kinder than she should be.

Her thumb wiped away the fallen tear with a soft smile, one that almost hid the sharp look in her eyes, "This is your home."

#agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #rio x you #agatha x reader #aaa week

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dantakeyoman · 2 years ago

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pls part 2 to neteyam defending you 🫡🤍 but this time i'd love a continuation to motherly neytiri tending to reader!! and her hinting at the fact she had seen them and their son share a kiss after trying to find out all the commotion once hearing overprotective jake lose his cool at ao'nung!

Jake Is Pissed At Ao'nung, and Neytiri Talks To You About Your Kiss With Neteyam After All the Commotion (SFW)

Part 2 of "Neteyam Defending You"

CW: my dude Jake goes crazy, starts talking really freely to the Olo'eyktan, Neytiri is so nice and caring, best wing-woman ever, jake x reader (platonic; father-daughter-ish)

"What the hell is the matter with you, boy?! I oughta fight you right now!" Jake shouted as his eyebrows furrowed, the boy doing his best to try and understand the angry, English words.

Jake always switched to English when he was mad.

It was instinct, and English had more expressive cuss words than Na'vi anyway.

"Mawhey, My Jake," Neytiri whispered, quietly stepping in front of her husband and resting her hands on his chest, her eyes flicking to the crowd of village people that started to form.

"Please. The people are watching."

The entire Sully family stood behind you and Jake, on one side of the walkway, while Ao'nung, his friends, and the rest of the Metkayina stood on the other.

It looked as if both sides were warring.

"Let 'em watch. This shit needs to be dealt with," Jake growled, carefully moving her out the way and getting ready to scream at Ao'nung some more.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Tonowari asked calmly, him and Ronal breaking through the crowd and stepping to the front.

His tone was calm, but you could see on his face that he was clearly angered with the fact that his on was injured, and the outsiders shouting at him.

"The problem here? I'll show you the problem," Jake whipped his head over to you, giving a firm nod.

You nodded back with a sigh, stepping in the middle of the clan divide and lifting your arms, putting all of your injuries on display.

The Metkayina gasped, and Neteyam had to be held back by Lo'ak and Kiri.

He hadn't realized the extent of the damage when he was carrying you, but looking at it now, he should've hit Ao'nung twice as hard.

You had hand-shaped bruises all over your arms, and one on your ankle from Ao'nung's demonstration.

Your face had a large bruise on it's right cheek, and a bloody nose from being dropped on your face.

And the statement piece of it all, the nasty, pillow-sized bruise on your side, which was leaking blood from Ao'nung's toenails.

"Your words. Treat these Forest people like brothers and sisters. I don't see this shit as very familial," Jake spat, pointing roughly at Rotxo.

"That little shit managed to squeal about everything done to (y/n). The grabbing! The kicking! THE KIDS DROPPED HER ON HER FACE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

Your breath hitched, silently thanking Eywa that the Metkayina did not have good English.

Ronal and Tonowari quickly turning to their son in anger, their gaze practically burning holes into the boy.

"Is this true?" the two hissed, no longer masking their rage.

And the look of absolute fear on his face was the icing on the cake.

It almost made you feel sorry for him.

....Almost.

"ANSWER!" Tonowari shouted.

"YES! It's true!" He admitted, hanging his head.

The entire crowd gasped, and Tsireya did her best to hold back tears as she looked at your injured form.

You were a very nice girl, and an incredible friend. You didn't deserve this in the slightest.

She could not believe her brother for doing such a horrible thing.

"My kids come back to me nearly everyday talking about how this kid is constantly harassing them-." "He calls us all freaks," Tuk sadly chimed, glassy eyed as she tucked her face into her mother's side, Neytiri taking deep, full breaths to keep her composure.

"But for the sake of peace, I let it slide. Well all that stops tonight! I want it to be made perfectly clear that if your son, or ANY of his little friends so much as lift a finger to ANY of my children, they will have to answer to me!" Jake finalized, resting a hand on your shoulder at the word children.

It almost brought you to tears.

You felt so loved, and protected, and safe. It me your heart swell with joy.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Rotxo and the other boys frantically agreed, terrified that, not only did they witness Toruk Makto's anger, but were the direct cause of it.

Everyone turned to Ao'nung to hear his response, but he stayed silent, dazed.

"SPEAK, BOY!" Tonowari shouted once again, pushing the boy forward with his staff.

"Understood!" he cried, turning his gaze down to the floor.

"Good," Jake huffed, un-puffing his chest.

"You have brought shame to this family. Go to the marui. You are grounded," Tonowari glared at his son, pointing his staff back to their home.

Ao'nung nodded, quickly turning around and speed-walking over, Tsireya following behind, ashamed.

Jake scoffed at the display, before turning to you with a softened face. "Now you. Are you okay? Wanna go get patched up?"

"Yes, sir," you nodded with a smile, quietly wincing from the pain of your bruised cheek.

"If you would accept, I could heal your daughter for you," Ronal stepped forward, apologetically bowing.

"I believe your family has done enough for tonight. I will handle this," Neytiri glared, stepping in front of you.

Ronal clenched her jaw, but nodded, turning around to follow her husband home.

"Come, child," Neytiri smiled at you, carefully taking your hand and leading you to the marui, Tuk and Kiri following close behind.

They entered, and the boys tried coming in after, but Neytiri stopped them.

"We must talk. Alone," Neytiri knowingly looked up at Jake, who nodded.

"That's alright. I gotta talk to these two, anyway," he agreed, resting his hands on the brothers' shoulders and leading them to a more secluded part of the island.

When Neytiri turned around, you were already sitting down, Kiri preparing the salves for your bruises.

She walked over and sat criss-crossed in front of you, picking up a special leaf to clean off your blood.

"My (y/n), are you alright?" she calmly asked, lightly swiping the blood from your nose.

"Yes. It looks worse than it feels. Truly," you assured, the loud wince you let out when Kiri touched a bruise quickly debunking your statement.

Neytiri sighed, carefully lifting your arm to wipe the blood from your side.

She needed to lift your spirits.

"You know," she started, a smile growing on her lips. "You and Neteyam remind me of me and his father when we were young."

You practically choked on the air you were breathing, the coughing fit you were sent into not feeling the best on your ribs.

Though it seemed like perfect entertainment for Kiri and Tuk, whose uproarious laughter could be heard from the next marui.

"I am serious," Neytiri politely laughed, halting her swipes on your side with a smile so you could catch your breath.

"He may not act like it, but your father used to be just as reckless as Lo'ak, maybe a little more."

"Really?!" Tuk asked, amazed.

"No way," Kiri scoffed with a smile.

Out of all the times he had scolded that boy, he was just as bad.

"But he was strong. He had a strong heart. No fear. Almost never hesitating to fight if needed," Neytiri continued, starting to smooth the salve over your rib.

"I see this in Neteyam."

She glanced up from her work, looking you in the eyes.

"For me, I was always calm. I wasn't as quick to fight as he, but I was still strong, and determined."

She looked back down.

"I see this in you."

Your cheeks turned a dark blue hue, despite the splashes of purple and red alredy there.

"The Great Mother knows all, and I feel she did not make this resemblance for no reason."

Was she saying what you think she's saying?

"Neytiri, what are you-?" "I am saying you and Neteyam have my blessing," she smiled.

Your breath hitched.

"Oh! I didn't....we weren't.....I wasn't-!" "No sense in denying it, (y/n). The whole clan saw you swapping spit with the boy as you came over," Kiri shrugged with a smile, teasingly poking you in the cheek, wary of your injuries.

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands, embarrassed.

"Oh, stop," Neytiri chuckled, tucking a stray braid behind your ear. "I think it is cute."

bonus !!

Jake sat down on the sandy shore, Neteyam and Lo'ak sitting on either side of him, concerned.

"You two listen, and listen good," he started seriously, his tone leaving no room for games.

The two nodded, and the man continued.

"I want you two to watch that Ao'nung kid, and his little group of friends, too. Be nice for the sake of peace, but keep your heads on a swivel. If they say anything to your sisters or (y/n), you tell me, I'll sort it out."

Jake did a quick perimeter check, making sure no one was listening in.

"But if any of those little shits so much as touch a hair on their head, I give both of you full permission to beat the living shit out of each and every one of them. Don't worry about the repercussions, I'll take the heat. But that's gonna be the new protocol from now on."

The two boys nodded firmly, giving their father a serious look.

"Understood," Neteyam agreed.

He was glad his dad was giving him permission, but to be honest, he was going to end up doing this anyway.

Today, he made a silent oath that he was never going to let you get hurt on his watch ever again.

"Alright," Lo'ak smirked, cracking his knuckles with his fist.

"And as for you," Jake started up again, turning to Neteyam.

The boy gulped, bracing himself for a scolding of some sort.

"Who taught you how to kiss like that?" his father smiled, giving his son a proud pat on the back.

"Oh, yeah! Those two were going at it! They were like-." Lo'ak jumped up from his seat, hugging himself and making kissing noises.

"Aye!" Neteyam waved off with a smile, that familiar heat rising to his cheeks.

Jake chuckled at his boys' antics, throwing his arms around each one and pulling them into a hug.

This was what a family was for. Protecting one another, caring for one another, healing one another.

Jake had no doubt in his mind that his family was, and truly is, his fortress.

#avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #na'vi x y/n #na'vi x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #atwow #atwow x reader #omitacaya

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fictionalmenxyn · 4 months ago

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𝐀 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦? 𝐎𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞?

Pairing: firefighter!eddie x cop!reader (fem)

Warning: light language (once mentioned ‘shit’), injury, threats, attempt arson attack, blood, reader takes a hit (stitches but NO mentions of needles) and I believe that’s all!

Summary: 118 and Y/n had been called to an accident, nothing strange. The manager of the diner said that she could smell a gas leak but they recently had that checked. Y/n asked a few questions to the manager, revealing more information. That’s when it all clicked Y/n.

--༒⚠︎︎༒--

Just another normal evening in Los Angles, while patrolling. Driving in your ford suv cop car, your radio came on. And with a familiar voice (May) it spoke “dispatch 813 P28, we’ve got a call from a person who has said there was a supposed car crash at the ‘come dine’ diner on Lakewood avenue” you nod subconsciously nod “copy that dispatch, on my way.”

You put your sirens on and head start to the scene.

You pull up already seeing Athena’s car there. You park up and hop out, putting your sunglasses on, you walked over. Seeing the 118 fire engines already there, Hen and Chimney helping some witnesses that were at the diner.

“Hey, Athen, what’s it looking like?” You approach Athen. She had her hands in her pockets as she replied “looks like the driver made a run for it after crashing, Bobby said once they had showed up, driver was no where to be seen.” You hummed “that’s odd, you think they’re injured? Looks like a bad crash..”

You look at the scene in front of you. The large window of the diner has half a car doing through it. Smashed glass everywhere, tables and chairs knocked over or broken. “Well, nobody besides the get away driver seems to be in bad shape…” you look around after Athen spoke. Seeing only a couple and a mom with her child. Only minor injuries, cuts and bruises at most. You asked “you think it’s a dui?” Athen answers “I mean, possibly? It’s half six on a Friday evening..”

Athena’s name had been called, so you were left to yourself for a moment. Sticking your hands into the arm parts of your utility vest. Glancing around the scene, you saw the 118 team by the engine. You smiled and walked on over. Seeing Buck and Ravi standing next to each other while Eddie sat on the small ledge on the engine. Hen and Chimney were at their fire ambulance patching people up as Bobby was talking with other fire captains and police officers.

You approached the three guys “hey you three.” The guys look over, Buck and Ravi almost in sync “hey.” Eddie chuckled at the two then looked at you “hey, mi amor” you smiled “hey, heard of anything from here?” Buck replied “nope, just a crash… without the driver” you nodded. Eddie asked “talked to any witnesses yet?” You shook your head “just got here five minutes ago. Athena told me she already had officers asking round” he nodded.

After some chatting a person in a retro outfit approached us. “Hi um, I think there is something up with the diner..” you raised an eyebrow “what’s wrong with it? Besides the car?” The person spoke “I’m the manager of the diner, i went back in the back to my office… something is smelling real bad in there… I think it’s a gas leak, but we just had that checked not too long ago..” the guys all geared up once again and went inside. You escort the manager to the side and out of the way. You ask some questions and chat with the manager. She told you how she saw a guy running out of the car, but he looked to be unscrewing something at the back of the car.

The guys came back out, Eddie walked over and spoke “hey, it’s a gas leak, but it seems to be unscrewed and damaged like someone went at it…” you look to the manager and she replied “nobody has been down there since the handyman had been down there..” Eddie added on “yeah, somebody left a rusty old wrench down there… couldn’t have been a handyman’s wrench..”

…A rusty wrench? Nobody had been down there? Saw a guy unscrew something at the back of his car? Gasoline? No… a gas leak and gasoline? That wouldn’t cause a fire… just yet.. but it could’ve… Your thoughts clicked on…you thanked the manager for her time.

Eddie looked at you in confusion.

You quickly made your way over to the car. You mumbled “thought so…” Athena looked over “everything good, Y/n/n?” You called out “this wasn’t a simple crash… I think this was intentional” Athena walks over “what?”

“I was with the one eighteen.. then the manager complained of a smell, a gas leak, Eddie checked it out and told me it looked as if someone had purposely damaged it. Before that I was questioning the manager; she said a guy had ran out of the car. But before he fled the scene, he was unscrewing something.” You gesture to the gas cap on the car. Athena clicked on too “maybe he had some sort of match or lighter on him?” You added “and maybe he fled because he saw first responders.” You jog over to the manager, “hey sorry to bother you again, but can you tell me when you saw the guy run out the car?” The lady responded “around six twenty..” you gave her a small smile and thanked her. You then jog over to Eddie.

“Hey babe, around what time did you and the team arrive here?”

“Uhh I’d say around six twenty? Why?”

It all clicked together, “this is an attempted arson”

“Wait what? Y/n! What?!”

You jog back over to Athena, “yep, we guessed correctly, one eighteen arrived right as the suspect would’ve caused the arson.” Athena nodded and headed over to Rick and explained our theory.

You walked over to Eddie, you explained everything you and Athena had just discussed. You stood next to Eddie and now Buck. Glancing around at the crowd that had formed over the time you had been there.

You notice a guy, looked about early twenties maybe late teens. A black hoodie and dark jeans. You saw a large stain on the bottom of his jeans. He looked fidgety or on edge, more like… suspicious.

You tilted your body towards Eddie “hey, don’t make it suspicious, but the guy in the crowd, black hoodie, dark jeans, looks young 18 maybe 20 at most.. looks fidgety, he’s got a big stain at the bottom of his jeans..” Eddie and Buck glanced over. Buck replied “yeah, he seems off, huh?” You nodded in agreement. Eddie suggested “you gonna go over and talk to him?” You nodded “worth a shot..”

You casually made your way over; as you got close enough the guys saw you. He panicked and darted off in a direction. You called out “we’ve got a runner!” Athena looked over. She saw the guy running, also saw you hot on his tail. Athena started to run too, following you both.

You pressed your thumb on the radio “dispatch, this is Sargent Y/l/n, got a possible suspect of the diner accident on Lakewood avenue, he’s on the run. Male, late teens early twenties, black hoodie, dark jeans with large stain on the bottom, pale skin brown hair.” You call out “hey! You won’t be able to run forever!”

You kept chasing the possible suspect. He caught himself on his foot and miss stepped; giving you an advantage. You practically throw yourself on him, taking him to the ground. He tried to fight you off of him, he threatened “get off me, I’ll- I’ll hurt you!” You reached for your cuffs “not today, you’re in custody of attempted arson” the guy lashed out. He reached in his hoodie pocket. Grabbing a small pocket knife, waving it around as he tried to get you. You tried your best to dodge it.

Feeling a slight sting in your face, you felt blood trickle down your cheek. You look down at the guy. He threatened again “get off! I will do it again!” “You will not-”You tried to grab his wrist, sadly he was quicker.

You felt a sharp burning sensation in your arm. You see you have been stabbed, lucky for you, it was only the tip of the blade. You look down at the now ripped arm of your shirt, along with a dark patch forming against the navy of your uniform “shit…”

You heard a voice “Y/n/n!” Athena ran over just in time with two other guy police officers. You got up as the two guys took over and detained the guy. Athen looked you over “he cut you…” you nodded. “He got me in the arm too.” Athena saw the blood that started to trickle down your arm.

Athena pressed her thumb on her radio “this is Sargent Grant, we’ve got an injured officer, Sargent Y/l/n, she’s been stabbed in her arm and a cut to her cheek.” We could hear Bobby through the radio “bring her back to the scene, Hen and Chimney will take a look at her.” “Roger that, Cap.” You both head back to the scene.

Eddie spotted you quicker than anyone. He ran over, he held your uninjured arm “baby, you alright?!” You nodded “yeah, it’s not too bad, it was just the tip of a pocket knife.” Eddie still looked concerned, you couldn’t blame him.

You were now sat on the ledge of the ambulance, Hen is stitching your arm up while Eddie watched over her shoulder. Chimney asked “so you got the guy now though, right?” You nodded “after I tackled him to the ground, and his exchange-” gestures to the stab wound and cut to your cheek “-Athena and two other cops came over, they took over as Athena did a once over on me.” Chimney and Hen nodded.

Once Hen was done, you thanked her and stood up. Now only having one long sleeve on your navy uniform shirt. You looked to Eddie “see, I’m all good now, Ed, I promise..” you open your arms for him. Which he gladly walked into.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around your waist. He whispered “you’re a badass for taking that guy down, but still gotta be careful, love.” You chuckled softly and replied “it’s all apart of the job, besides I didn’t know he had a pocket knife on him.” He hummed in agreement.

“Well expect some tlc from Christopher and I tonight, yeah?” You smiled at his comment “yeah…” he smiled.

He leaned closer to your face, “alright, I’ve gotta head back to the station, see you in four hours?” You smile and nod “see you in four hours, my love.”

He glances to your lips momentarily, then he leans in and kisses your lips softly for a moment. Savouring your kiss, he then pulls away reluctantly. “I love you, see you later…” you smile and respond “I love you too, babe.” He waved then jogged over to the fire engine. You wave to the rest of the team before heading back over to your cop car and getting in it. Continuing the rest of your shift with one long sleeve and a new set of stitches. You pulled off and continued the rest of your four and a half hours of your shift.

All you could think about was your tlc that Eddie mentioned. Most likely a movie night in, eating popcorn or candy with your favourite boys, Eddie and Christopher…

--༒⚠︎︎༒--

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vampiricgf · 4 months ago

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VARIOUS STORMS & SAINTS

friends dad leon kennedy x f!reader

wc : 2.5k+

warnings : graphic description of animal injury (the animal is fine tho), blood, age gap (he's older and reader is in their twenties), mention of bad family life, intoxication, car sex, semi public, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

not really written with a specific leon in mind but he's def late thirties-mid forties in my head. also the whole animal injury thing is a method I used to illustrate his projection onto the reader, it's not there for no reason but it is immediately beneath the cut so beware

He knows he’s not some kind of cradle robber, knows there’s really not that many years between you two but it may as well be an eternity. An ocean of time stretching out between your two selves, heavy and sticky as molasses. You’re vibrant in that way that only twenty somethings are, like theres this sheen of iridescence coating your skin. Just like that evening in the rain.

The first time you really met properly he’d run over a cat. It was grizzly, horrible. He’d been driving you back to your apartment after learning you had car trouble on the way over earlier to spend time with his daughter, your little hatchback left sitting forlornly in his driveway to be towed to a shop the next day as he wasn’t about to let a young girl potentially get stranded on the side of the road while it was getting dark. “I don’t want to have to pick you up, buddy,” he muttered, assessing the bodily damage while the creature spasmed pitifully and the rain reached a high roar.

Your bag slid from your shoulder as you crouched beside him, one hand pressing down into the mud to steady yourself. “I’ll pick him up. If you drive.”

He’s not sure but the look on his face must’ve betrayed the small sliver of hope he had that the animal could be saved.

You two worked efficiently, bundling the cat as best you could onto an improvised plastic bag stretcher, lifting from underneath and burying your hands even further in mud in an effort to make the transition smoother. It had mewed pathetically, one paw working the air in a feeble attempt at pushing the pain away. It was odd to feel such sudden, deep kinship with a cat.

“You know where there’s a vet?” he’d asked you after fumbling to get behind the wheel of the car while acutely aware of your presence in a newfound way. You were his daughters friend from community college, just being helpful, so he waved his tension off as worry for the little creature in your lap.

“Yeah,” you said, clearly trying to recall, “Near the dentists place by the supermarket, my parents always took our cat there.”

He’d said something to affirm he heard you, pulling away with the wipers on full blast, forcefully slicing through the deluge sheeting the windshield. Doing his best to drive smoothly, so as not to cause the cat anymore pain.

“How’s he doing?”

It had stopped whimpering in your lap, instead panting gutterally. In between flashes of streetlight he could see the blood seeping into your clothes as the little plastic bag could no longer contain the sheer volume on it’s surface. You didn’t acknowledge it at all, didn’t express any discomfort or disgust.

“He’ll be alright, he just needs to get stitched up.”

“I didn’t even see him,” He couldn’t help the explanation pouring from his lips, suddenly very focused on making sure you didn’t think of him poorly because of this.

“It’s okay,” you said, looking down in your lap while your hands hovered over the cat, “it happens sometimes. Not your fault.”

Thankfully he found the vets office quickly, killing the ignition in record time to get out and wrench open the passenger door, ushering you and the wet bundle in your arms to the front door. The receptionist seemed to be unimpressed with the urgency, gesturing to you both to wait while she scurried behind a door, murmuring voices barely leaking past the threshold.

The veterinarian that stepped out was a small man, older with wire rimmed glasses. He opened the door to an examination room fully, waving you two inside.

“He’s been hit by a car,” you said, beating him to it as you gingerly laid the animal down, allowing Leon to see the full extent of the gore staining your clothes. It looked like some of the blood had even dripped and run down between your thighs, staining the jean material in almost lewdly directed streaks.

He assessed the cat fairly quickly, leaving you two to stand in awkward idleness as Leon tried not to linger too long on the sight of you.

“The injuries look worse than they are,” he spoke, turing to eye the two of you, “does the cat belong to you?”

“No,” he spoke for the first time, clearing his throat before continuing, “I, uh, hit him on the side of the road.”

The older man gave him a level look before speaking. “Poor thing, lucky though you two brough him here quickly at least. We’ll get him fixed up fine, hopefully he’s microchipped.”

Walking out through reception Leon was aware how insane it looked, a young girl practically drenched in blood walking out as if nothing abnormal had occured. He didn’t like the image of it. Didn’t like the forced recollection of all the other times he’d seen some unnamed women soaked in carnage. You practically wore an apron of the stuff.

In the car there were spots, about the size of a silver dollar, on the passengers seat and the familiar scent of metal hung suspended in the air so heavily he could almost taste it.

You sat in silence, staring ahead with all the acute silence of a shock victim. Your skin had a semi sheen of sweat on it mixed with the rainwater, catching the light in an almost tantalizing way as it glittered against the exposed skin of your neck and chest.

He remembers feeling cold as he started the car back up, resumed the path to your place in heavy silence.

Rounding the corner back onto the street where you told him you lived he spoke again.

“It is my fault. I just didn’t see him.”

His fascination only grew from that restless night spent tossing and turning thinking of you, poor pretty girl all drowned in blood. How unemotional you’d been. A part of him recognized the appeal was that he was projecting himself onto you in no small part, suddenly ascribing to you certain characteristics he possessed. He knew from the vauge talks with his daughter that you had some trouble in your background, maybe a not so great upbringing or bad boyfriends, things like that.

It made him feel protective of you all of a sudden, you whom he really only properly paid attention to that night for the first time.

That’s what motivated him to call in the morning and have your car handled himself, paying the exorbitant fees and for the tow despite the eye watering amount. If you didn’t have anyone looking out for you then it was only the right thing to do. You seemed like a good kid, going to school and he knew you worked at some shitty diner in town to pay for your place. You were a good friend to his own kid, who god knows had been forced through enough upheaval thanks to him.

He’d gotten your number from her, just to call and tell you your car was taken car of, he’d take you to the shop to pick it up even if you didn’t have a way to get there. That’s all it was. All it was supposed to be.

Soon enough, as the days turned to weeks then months, he found himself reaching for his phone more and more, texting you just to check in. It was natural to worry about you, you were young and working hard. It was like worrying about his own kid. But it wasn’t long before those texts developed certain undertones, although he couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment when the shift happened but it’s what led to the present moment.

A rare phone call from you, around two in the morning, and lucky for you it was a night he was home. Something about being at a party but some shit was happening you didn’t want to be part of, too fucked up to drive though so pretty please Mr. Kennedy could you give me a ride home? The way your voice sounded, pleading, cutesy and a little drunk coming through the receiver immediately and shamefully made him semi hard as he sat up in bed, head hanging low and brushing the hair from his face with his opposite hand as he felt the change in bloodflow listening to you speak.

What kind of sicko pops a semi when a girl thats best friends with his own kid calls him for help? Jesus you need to get laid. With a woman your own age.

But he’d agreed, assuring you it was fine, just give him the address and wait outside he’d pick you up. There was a strange sense of pride in his head, that you thought to call him to come get you before anyone else. Did you see him as dependable? How exactly did you see him, anyway?

Behind the wheel his grip turns white knuckle. If he doesn’t make an effort to barricade those ideas things could quickly turn sour. Your tenuous connection aside, it was bad enough that you were only in your twenties. He was a old man comparatively, long since having lost that sparkle of youthfulness in favor of the dull realities of the world, the horrors of his job. And what would you want with a man his age anyway when you were doing exactly what any young person should be doing, getting drunk in the company of those most like yourself. Although he’d be lying if he said the idea of you drunkenly clinging to some nameless faceless boy didn’t make jealousy shoot through his head like a presicion bolt.

And he thinks of the cat then, so many months ago now. The way you’d sat stone faced in this very same car, clothes ruined with it’s blood and dried mud cracking on your hands. You’d reminded him of himself, and in some strange way it was like that incident cemented you together.

But those thoughts vanish as he spots you under a streetlight, haloed in burnt orage light as you leaned against it like it was the only thing in the world that could keep you upright. He pulls over with a start, making the car jerk as it shifts gear before the drivers door is slamming behind him.

“Hey, you okay?” he already knows the answer will be no. You look like you’ve had firmly too much to drink, shivering in an outfit so skimpy it makes his blood pressure skyrocket as he takes you in.

“Mr. Kennedy, m’so happy to see you,” you slur it with relief and that protectiveness surges once again. You pay his awkward posture no mind as you grab for his bicep to keep your balance, stumbling in heels.

“You know you can call me Leon, now come on, you’re gonna freeze to death out here in those clothes.”

You flash him a smile, eyes unfocused but he could see the redness in your sclera even with the dimly lit half dark. So you’d clearly been dabbling in weed too. Before he can admonish you as he guides you to sit in the passenger seat you do something that makes the words die in his throat.

You cradle his jaw in your hands, fingers moving against the stubble he forgot to shave like you’re testing the sensation against your skin before placing your lips to his cheek in a soft, sweet kiss. It makes his adrenaline spike, coursing through his body like he just took an injection of the stuff and it takes a superhuman effort to not grab your soft cheeks and slam his lips on yours.

Tension filled the car, along with the smell of cheap booze and marijuana that clung to you like a second skin as he reversed into a three point turn to get back towards your place.

"You mad at me?" You ask and the words put his heart out of time. It sounds so... Small coming from you, endearing in some unnameable way.

"Why would I be? You're an adult, aren't you?"

You considered his words, wrapping a piece of hair around your finger as if what he asked carried more weight than he was aware of.

"So since I'm an adult is it okay to kiss you again?"

It was like a one man, all mental car crash. A body in free fall despite being firmly held in place by safety restraints and boxed inside a compact space. He was glad to be stopped at a red light then, but soon enough his eyes drifted to a patch of gravel that went off from the shoulder of the road, towards a little crop of trees. Secluded.

The decision was made before he realized, had been made the moment he'd seen you soaked in blood at that vets office all those months ago. You were like a shard of what could have been, all those years ago if his life had been normal, stayed normal. He would've loved you had he met you then. Kind, bright, alive. Maybe this scene would've played out in a similar way, that babyfaced version of himself picking you up and being jittery as hell thinking about getting you home, getting you all to himself.

You don't raise any questions as he pulls off the shoulder, the interior of the car cast in a thicker darkness thanks to the tree cover. Maybe you realize that you're in the car with essentially two people, the man he is now and the one that could've existed. Do you know how badly both ache to touch you, that it feels like being on fire?

As the car stops the air inside nearly crackles aloud between your bodies, he can feel the way his lungs inflate with air so acutely it's almost painful. But it has to be you, has to be your choice to start this.

And you don't keep him waiting long, unbuckling before turning to face him in the dark and leaning forward until one of your elbows is on the center console and you're holding your face as your eyes scan his. Even while buzzed it was clear you weren't incoherent, which put him at ease fractionally.

"So, can I kiss you again?" You ask again, half glazed eyes holding his, your tongue peeking out to run over your bottom lip and he's never wanted someone to kiss him so badly before.

"Or are you gonna make me beg, Leon?" You drag out the sound of his name with your voice dropped to a whisper and he could've moaned like a bitch in heat right then.

And suddenly it didn't matter that you were his daughters friend, it didn't matter that there was a canyon of time and experience between you, all that mattered was getting his hands on you in the next second and that's exactly what he did. He may be an occasional asshole but he's not going to make anyone as beautiful as you are beg him for anything.

The kiss he yanks you into is searing, one calloused hand on the back of your neck like he was scruffing a naughty animal while your teeth clicked together and your tongues slid over one another in something more akin to snakes slipping against each other. The scent of you is like getting a contact high, the muskiness of sweat and weed mingled with something sweet layering beneath it. Something distinctly you.

Your tongue tastes like sugary liquor, something vaguely vanilla enough that you can slam down shot after shot before realizing you've had too many. He can feel the spit clinging to his lips but it doesn't matter, not when you're climbing over the console and he's fumbling blind for the bar that'll set the seat all the way back.

When he finds it you gasp as both your bodies are jolted backwards, your hands resting against his chest to steady yourself and he thinks every man on earth would kill for the view he has right now. Your chest, nearly on full display thanks to the little halter top you're wearing, was heaving and he was enraptured by the way your breasts moved beneath the flimsy fabric.

His hands stretched out with purpose, grabbing the moldable flesh and kneading it between his fingers as you rolled your head back and his hips gave an experimental roll sending your body upwards like you were on a boat rocking in waves. You moan at the motion, the sensation, knowing he may be older than you but clearly still in shape enough.

When you bend down to capture his lips again his hands find the strings tied together at your neck, easily undoing them and allowing himself full access to your chest, breaking the kiss to mark a sloppy spit trail down your throat until he could lightly press his teeth against the soft flesh of your breast. The way you whined and laced your fingers in his hair spurred him on, sucking on your nipple and moving to leave splotches of deep red on the plump skin before lavishing the other breast with the same attention.

Your hips grind down against him, feeling the way he was straining against the jeans he'd pulled on in his rush to get to you. Truthfully he'd never been so hard in his life, felt his cock throbbing and aching to be buried inside you like if he didn't he'd keel over. Thick fingers pull your microskirt up to bunch around your hips, exposing what felt like cute silk panties to his rough fingertips and briefly he wishes it was a little brighter out so he could see them properly. Maybe he'll buy you new ones after this.

As his index strokes along the gusset of them it's a boost to his ego, feeling how wet you already were, how it made you mewl so pathetically against the shell of his ear.

"I know, baby," he cooed at you, half teasing half mocking as your hips bucked against his hand, chasing even a sliver of friction for your own satisfaction. A selfish streak is alluring, always has been to him.

But he's not cruel and once more he doesn't make you beg, pushing two fingers up inside you with ease and feeling your slick walls constrict around the intrusion instantly, squeezing and sucking them in and it was enough to rob him of the air in his lungs.

"Want more," you gasp against the crook of his neck as his fingers pumped in and out of you, soft squelching filling the car with every movement. "Please-"

You cut yourself off with a low keen as his fingers curl against a particular spot that he tucks the knowledge of away to keep, a sweet spot that makes you pant like a dog in his lap and he can't help but marvel at how adorably needy you are at this moment.

"It's all yours," he says, gravelly, as your hands slide down to his waistband, feeling for the button and zipper which you undo with impressive speed. It was flattering that you were so desperate for his cock in your hands, pulling him from his boxers and letting out a little moan feeling the size of him. He wasn't dealing with a monster but he always had been confident that he was well endowed enough to please, something your reaction only reenforced.

Being in a car meant there was little room for movement but you managed to make do on top of him, him holding your panties to the side while you lined the head of his leaking, flushed cock up with your entrance. The slide down threatened to dissolve his vision in a haze of static, the feeling of you on his fingers paled in comparison to this.

It was like you were made for him, made for this. The way your pussy opened up around him as you slid down inch by inch, mouth dropping open until you reached the hilt of him and a sharp groan fell from your lips.

His hands gripped your hips, rubbing slow circles against them as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. It was also for his own benefit, an anchor against the floodwaters in his mind that threatened to sweep him away. The last thing he wanted was to lose control or focus, slam up into you and end up hurting you. It has to be at your pace, this time.

But you don't keep him waiting, to your credit. You lean back down, nibbling on his bottom lip as you start rolling your hips slowly, getting a feel for a rhythm and he matches it when you fall into one you prefer. Slow, steady rocking of his cock up against the spot he found earlier, the one that makes you whine and whimper. He's vaguely conscious of the windows fogging, the car being jostled by the repetitive motion of your hips meeting and your pussy greedily swallowing his length.

He's never been much of a religious man, but in this moment with you he thinks he could be. Maybe god is in a lover, a warm body and soft skin, the way your voice goes higher as you say his name again and again. He doesn't want to hear anyone else speak it, like it's a secret only between the two of you.

His arms, still strong and corded with muscle, keep you held against him as he picks up the rhythm entirely, pumping up into you with relentless fervor as your cries reach a fever pitch and the first battering of his impending orgasm hits him like a punch to the gut.

Too soon, too soon. But there's nothing that could stop the thick, sticky ropes of cum from flooding your waiting cunt, the throbbing of the head of his cock against your walls a stark reminder that he's old and that it's been far too long since he's cum in anything that wasn't his own hand. All at once he's back within himself as he is, not a virile young man anymore but a world weary one. A lonely one.

His eyes are closed but he can feel your lips marking a path up from the neck of his tshirt, the column of his throat, his jaw, and before your lips find his again you speak.

"Come back with me, for the night?" It's barely audible, sends shivers wracking his spine as the words move over his mouth, crawling down his throat.

And for the first time since he was even younger than you he thinks of Saint Jude. Patron of lost causes. Maybe someone finally took pity on him, one of the most lost of all.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #txt ☆ˎˊ˗

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