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#and there's another dozen things I'd like to do

adhd-merlin · 10 months

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Alex Vlahos: And there you are, in your Saxon guise. Colin Morgan: Yes, yeah. We very rarely get to see me scarfless. Alex Vlahos: Yeah. I bet you enjoyed that. Colin Morgan: I felt quite naked.

— Alex and Colin in the DVD commentary of ep 5x02

#this cracked me up #the way colin said it. you know he meant it lmao #one day i will go back to my S5 commentaries transcription project #i prommy #it's just... it takes time and i'm not sure anyone but me cares #and there's another dozen things I'd like to do #also. everyone goes on about the purple shirt #but personally i think this was merlin's sexiest outfit #merlin #merlin commentaries

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heartfullofleeches · 9 months

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Yan arena beasts/fighters + handler reader. Reader is an average human working at a zoo/shelters abducted and thrown into a life of caring for a galactic tyrant's playthings due to their experience with animals. Not an idea choice for the job, but with everyone who's had the job before being maimed, killed, or worse they were running out of options. Reader does the best with what they're given. They find solitude with the other captives to an extent and some of the more feral creatures remind them of stray cats and dogs they knew back home. They treat those who allow as those same poor creatures out of habit and to cope with their new life. Others are so aggressive they have to be blindfold and sedated to even get close. Reader still tries to comfort them despite the many scratches and bites they receive

A little mix up happens where a warrior meant to fight the big bad of the area had already been slain by the beast. With no alternative, reader gets sent out instead as sacrifice to appease the blood hungry masses. They cower in the corner as the beast's mask is removed, praying their battered body at least gets shipped home so they have a proper burial and their family has some clue to what happened to them. They cast their small dagger away still unable to defend themselves against what they only see as a frightened animal protecting its own skin. The beast lifts them off the ground like a ragdoll holding them high for the crowd to see as its fangs draw from its scarred lips - breaking the band around its wrist that would seal reader's victory.

The beast ties the rope around reader's neck as the announcer declares them victor by default. The crowd boos, but as the beast snaps the neck of one of the guards and throws the limb body into the arena their demands are met. Reader quakes from the sheer disbelief of the whole ordeal, and still being trapped in the beast's arms as it coos. It takes over a dozen guards to get them to separate the two. They try again with another beast reader has care for and the same thing happens. Watching the live footage closely it's clear to experts the skilled fighters allow themselves to get injured to be coddled and tended to by reader. When rations are given they try to feed reader a share of their meals. The number of casualties skyrocket when reader's taken away or new caretakers are introduced. The beasts demand their head pats and ear scratches for their winnings and they want it from one source alone.

The emperor is quite amused by this revelation. It perfectly masks his paranoia in the case of his pets rising against him for whatever reason and choosing the earthling as their new overlord which few have spoken of in whispers. He's torn between killing them to null his fears and befriending them to puppeteer his pets craftfully from the shadows. He decides on the latter since getting rid of them would only anger his pets. That and it would be so easy to trick the human with his charms. Few can resist the words and body of a king, after all.

"Y/n, darling, it's so good to see you! So glad you could make it. How have things been, hm?"

"I'd like to go home, please."

"Hahaha! Oh, you're so cute with your little jokes! You may enjoy your meal in due time, but I have a favor to ask of you from a friend to a king. In the case of I don't know - my pets slaughtering my entire legion and storming my castle walls to behead me and crown you ruler - would you pretty please ask them to - not do that?"

"That....sounds like it would be out of my hands."

"Right. Changing subject, you are aware I have been topless this whole conversation and my bed is right behind me. Why haven't you attempted to have your way with me by now? Not saying you could - but you can always try."

The emperor upgrades their room to one right next to his, but they hardly sleep there favoring their time caring for the others and because they'd rather stay there than see him in a state of undress on their mattress. The emperor mimics the cooing that gets wounded beasts extra smothering from their handler, but reader mostly ignores him. He grows jealous seeing them fast asleep in a cell kept warm by the body heat of the battle scarred creatures around them. He's been scarred by attempted assassinations in the past - why doesn't he get cuddles too? Combats this jealously by making a royal decree that reader has to sit with him during every battle and on his lap if they wish to stay out of his sight afterwards. Requests for reader's fredom and hand in marriage and when a champion is chosen are banned almost immediately.

#yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere emperor #yandere harem

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vroomvroomwee · 8 months

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Aziraphale's vest

I'd like to take a second and talk about his vest because I think it's a really good metaphor for Aziraphale's internal feelings.

At first glance it's obvious the vest is quite old. Really old in fact if you note the way it's practically disintegrating.

And it got me thinking a bit. The way the white practically bleeds from the edges of the neck, shoulders and buttons, going further and further, one day if he's persistent enough to wear it, it might even take over the entire vest. You could say that that, somehow, mirrors Heavens influence over Aziraphale. Slowly, slowly, biding their time, until it has completely ridden him of any colour. Until it has completely washed him of his identity, of his originality, of his character.

Take a look at his clothing when he's up in Heaven.

Completely and utterly white. Every piece of clothing he's wearing is pure and untarnished white. Upon entering Heaven, against his own accord, it has stripped him of his uniqueness, of anything that might distinguish him from any other angel who blindly follows orders and who's sole purpose is to do Heavens bidding.

Now, he could miracle the white patches on the vest away easily. But he doesn't want to.

The thing is. He likes the imperfect. He likes partaking in human activities and pleasures, like food, music, etc. Likes to indulge himself in earthly things Heaven would label as sinful or "sullying." And as someone who bas been on the receiving end of Heavens ridicule and passive aggression for millenia, as someone who for centuries has been told that he's underperforming and needs to do better, as someone who is all too aware of his own impurity by the standards an angel should hold and of the quite frankly unholy behaviour in performing immoral temptations and directly going against Heavens orders no more than a few times throughout the eras, it's no wonder he finds comfort in the imperfect.

He keeps the deteriorating edges because they are a perfect representation of his own internal feelings and image. After all, there's no rule that says he can't. And a big kudos to the costume department, for the patches perfectly encapsulate his religious trauma. Without it, he would probably be a very different person. He wouldn't be the same Aziraphale we know and love. The same way he likes being old-fashioned with his clothes and how that is a part of who he is, his trauma is a part of him as well, along with Heavens influence that has shaped him into who he is today, whether he likes it or not.

Every part of the vest illustrates Aziraphale's character and internal feelings, which brings me to another point I want to draw attention to, and that is the BACK of the vest.

It's DARK. And I don't think I'm mistaken when I say that most of us didn't expect it to look like that from behind. We all just assumed that it would be the same beige colour as the front, which is in tune with the rest of his attire. After all, seeing him wearing a dozen different outfits all throughout history, all of them some shade of white, it was the logical conclusion.

But no.

It's not white. It's a dark, slightly viridian or a dark blue colour. "Dark blue suggests a more mysterious depth or ominous quality. Power and authority: Dark blue signifies power and responsibility. "

Not what we would have expected that colour at all. Similarly to how one wouldn't expect an angel to perform temptations or be gluttonous, or envious, or slothful, or hedonistic. Not at first glance anyway.

Not unless you look carefully.

Not unless you know him.

The coat almost acts like a cover. The light over the dark. Almost as if it's trying to hide something. The only times we see Aziraphale not wearing the coat is in his bookshop. Which is logical, of course. You wouldn't wear a coat indoors, obviously. Except he DOES. He wears the coat when he and Crowley are drunk, he wears it when he's reading Agnes Nutter, he wears it when Gabriel and Sandalphon pop in, he wears it when he's talking to the Metatron, he wears it when he's listening to Shostakovich, he even wears it at the Ritz where it would be custom to take off your coat while dining. And it's worth noting that during the events happening (at least in the first season), the season is summer. Which would make it quite ridiculous to be wearing so many layers everywhere you go and therefore risk boiling. But he still wears the coat.

The only times he doesn't wear it is in the first episode after the sushi, when he's all ALONE, and in season 2 at the bookshop when Crowley comes back and in 1941.

And there's something oh so personal about that.

I don't think it's a coincidence that the darker part is specifically the back of the vest. There's always been this natural human instinct to protect yourself by never ever turning your back on a foe. And I don't think this is a conscious effort on Aziraphale's part, but rather genius writing, directing and costume design, and anyone who's watched and read Good Omens knows that almost nothing is coincidental.

Note this is probably the first time Aziraphale has called Crowley his friend, seeing how uncertain and doubtful he was to even say the word in this scene and how quick he was to deny their friendship in the Shakespeare scene. And the camera immediately cuts from Crowley to Aziraphale, who is turned away, whose back is turned to Crowley oh so casually without a care in the world. Just before he calls him his friend. His back is turned, and so is the dark part of his vest.

The dark part he only shows in his bookshop, when he's alone and there's no one there. The part that he now only shows to Crowley as well. Crowley who knows him so well and who's been with him through everything. "I won't tell anyone if you won't." And "you said trust me""and you did". Just this small motion of Aziraphale depicts exactly how much trust he has in Crowley not only that he'll keep him safe and protected but to accept him just as he is, to not judge him, to not demean him for his imperfections as an angel. Practically mirroring Crowley's self-protection mechanism that is reflected in his motions to hide his eyes with his sunglasses (there's a wonderful meta on this by @simply-brightly-zee here )

And it might just be clothing, or it might just be genius symbolism, but note how self-aware Aziraphale is of his looks when Gabriel pops up.

The desire to impress is almost unconscious in this scene, and how does he go about doing it? By making sure he looks presentable. Presentable, despite the white patches and the vest that is falling apart, he doesn't even realise it. Therefore, it's clear Aziraphale puts thought into his clothes, whether consciously or unconsciously.

I personally dont think any of this (the coat, the patches, the way he turns his back, when, where and around who he's most comfortable) is a deliberate and intentional act on Aziraphales part but rather creative brilliance from the directors and producers. So him being shown to expose the back of the vest only in scenes with Crowley (and the one in s2 infront of an amnesiac Gabriel with the intelligence and awareness of a squirrel) is a master move on the costume department's part. The symbolusm being so small and imperceptible, but holding so much meaning. This small metaphor shows how much Aziraphale trusts Crowley and how comfortable he is around him. Crowley who knows about Aziraphale's transgressions, sins, unholy behaviours, lack of interest and dedication to his job, and overall "incompetence" as Aziraphale might put it and how he's "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing". Crowley, who will accept him and love him no matter what. Not despite those things, but because of those things.

They have found their "own side".

Edit: Not that important, but I just want to mention how, despite being tattered and falling apart, the vest is still in perfectly good condition. No matter the white seeping in and draining its colour, the vest doesn't have a single seam torn, not a button lost, perfect as the day it was bought. No matter what it's been put through, it's still kicking, whether by miracle or sheer willpower. Very much like the person wearing it.

#good omens #goodomens #aziraphale #crowley #goodomenss2 #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #goodomenss2spoilers #good omens meta #good omens analysis #analysis

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shiro41 · 3 months

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Fluffy ears- Alastor

Summary: You always want to touch his ears but unfortunately for you, he rejects the very idea of it until he lets you.

Warnings: sub!Alastor, blowjob, brief mentions of a tentacle, drools, him in a rut?, dom turned sub reader, humping.

Note: this is my first time publishing a smut piece-- im anxious.

You always wondered how the fluff of the man's ears sit atop of his head, moving in sync with his moods and reactions. It wiggles, sometimes pinned on his head like a saddened pup, most times relaxed and stood proudly on his head. You wonder how they feel like.

"Please, Alastor?"

You put your hands in front of you, batting your lashes the best you could as you begged the overlord to let you touch his ears. His fluffy, fluffy ears. Knowing Alastor, he despises any form of physical contact unless he initiated first and touching his ears is a positive no. Which you got.

"Pretty please! I'll do anything!"

The smile on his face never wavered, staying the same size yet, his red spheres glowered with the slightest bit of irritation.

"My dear, touching my ears is a no. I'd appreciate it if you forget the ever thought of it."

He tapped your nose with his microphone, leaning down to your height and close his eyes-- smile still remaining. This resulted with a huff from you, growing equally as irritated and curious as he is. You watch him walk off, probably towards his radio station to broadcast yet another episode of pained screams of the unfortunate souls.

"I swear I'll get to touch it!"

You murmured to yourself, forming a fist as a rush of determination flowed through your ever being. You run to your room with the thought of his fluffs, ignoring the shaking heads of the staff.

"You think she'll ever touch 'em?"

Angel asked, turning to his cat friend who shook his head in disagreement.

Weeks passed and you still ask for the same thing to the radio demon, consistently begging for your hands to land on top of his head and within those weeks, he's been rejecting the idea nonstop.

"Come on, Alastor! Just five minutes!"

"No."

"Fine, four!"

"Still a no, darling."

Another interaction failed, it left you puffing smoke out of your nose from the forming irritation boiling in your blood. At this Point, the both of you find one another annoying. How persistent despite the many times of statements with the same content.

Of course, even the most patient man has his limits and it didn't happen until dozens of months passed where you took the advantage of the radio demon's vulnerable state of mating. He's a deer, it's perfectly normal to have these cycles once a year--maybe twice. You're not an expert with animals.

"Alastor, please let me touch your ears!"

You come to him again, noticing the relaxed posture yet the shaking of his grip on the microphone gave way to the battles inside him at the moment. He simply gave out a sigh, grabbing ahold of your hand and teleporting you to his room that's resembled the forest.

"Can I touch you now?"

A growing excitement evident in your voice, gasping as Alastor agreed and sat down on the cold ground covered with lush greens. His claws simply guided you to lay on his lap, like a father would comforting his child. They nestled and made home on your hips, occassionally brushing the skin beneath the clothes you wore as he lowered his head to give you full access to the red ears that heated due to the rushing blood and hormones he's experiencing at the moment.

"Be careful, darling. I can't promise a night of only receiving the pleasures of touching my ears."

He warned, reminding you he may not restraint himself from the animal instincts and growing need to reproduce. You, aware of the situation, nodded in understanding. So long as you can come to contact with the deer's ears, nothing is worth regretting.

You notice the first touch, it twitching in a manner so gentle you let a coo of compliments to him. The static noise of what you believe were small grunts and moans coming from Alastor deafened your ears, the pair only tucked more to his head when you massaged the base of it until the tips.

Soon enough, you find yourself touching his sensitive ears as he occassionally quivered underneath your touch, head burrowed in the crook of your neck and saliva running down his chin. His claws threaten to dig deeper into your hips, constantly restraining himself from hurting you physically. The statics have worsened, now sounding similar to purring yet, still with the whines and murmurs of encouragement from him.

He's melting in your touch.

"A-ah..please keep it u-up..! Kngh--"

He whimpered, feeling your hands travel from his soft ears to his small, hard antlers. It was rough to the touch, feeling like branches but the softness of the fur of his ears brushing up on your wrists was enough to get you going.

"Ooh it seems l-like I can't handle it a-ah..any further, chèr..!"

He breathed, moving your hips to grind on his crotch in a slow pace. You didn't mind the movement, opting to focus on your goal at hand and that is to savour every moment with the two pairs sitting atop his red head. Your skirt is pushed up until your thighs, barely showing the pink panties you wore today. It's patched with slight wetness in the middle, indicating your aroused figure in the situation you're in. Alastor underneath you was not far from your state, bucking his hips every time you brush your fingers against his head and occassionally travel to his cheeks and jaw before circling again on top.

The grinding didn't maintain its pace, now only moving faster the longer you went and the harder Alastor's hips thrust to meet your clothed cunt that's soaked with wetness resulting in his pants to stain too.

"Oh, Mon cher! I'm about to cum...!"

He breathed, continuing to produce whines after whines as you nip at the sensitive ear of his while the other's been massaged by your hand. You can feel Alastor drooling, the evidence being your discoloured shirt that's wet from his saliva, sliding down the cleavage of your chest. He whimpers with every meeting of his crotch coming to contact with your clothed pussy, almost rolling his eyes back as he feels himself getting closer by the minute.

"Oh darling, please let me cum."

He begged, eliciting a moan from you. Your stomach flipped with butterflies with every word of him begging you to let him have a satisfying release, you feel his tongue slither from your collarbone to your jaw, moaning while doing so. He's drooling a ton, almost bathing you in the process.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck--"

He chanted, voice echoing throughout the forest of his room like a broken record- statics incoherent and almost deafening until warmth spread from his crotch and feeling it on your pussy. He's creamed in his pants, the tent evident that he's been uncomfortably hard yet, you continue your abuse to his already sensitive ears, not letting him ride his release which caused a shriveled whine mixed with scream at the sudden sensation.

"Oh fuck! Oh, I can't take it! I can't take it, I can't- I can't-"

Again like a broken record, his voice transmitted a series of incoherent noise. The hands on his ears suddenly disappeared, cutting off the source of his scarce pleasure before he felt the belt of his pants being unbuckled and removed, not at the very least ashamed of the cum covered boxers once you pulled down the thick material of his pants.

You no longer towered him, instead kneeling in front of his sitting figure. The sight of the thin fabric that covered his obviously hard, wet cock made you moan. It was leaking with precum, pouring out of hid boxers before your tongue decided to take a taste of heaven in hell.

"Aahh..!"

A long drag of Ahs and a claw at the back of your neck has Alastor throwing his head back until his head collided with the tree behind. Your head pressed against the heat of his dick, rubbing your cheek affectionately against it as you look at those reds of his through the clumps of your eyelashes, eyes covered with thick lust.

His hand wiped the saliva off the corners of his mouth, now removing the stray of locks from your face and slowly taking out his angry red dick that's been begging to be released and aching to be touched. With its size, it slapped you in the process resulting with sticky cum kissing your cheek, the overlord repeating the process time and time again, swaying the hard organ across you and enjoy the sight of your tongue poking out ever so slightly, enticing him to fill it up with his thick cock.

"A-ah..ah no..let me savor this first, dear girl."

He tried to create dominance, continuing to tease you with his dick encircling your mouth but never in it. This resulted with an impatient whine coming out of your mouth, a hand coming to travel to your gaping pussy still clad in pink, wet panties but unfortunately, a tentacle wrapped itself onto your wrist- effectively preventing you from giving yourself pleasure.

A small sigh escape his lips, looking at your hazed lustrous expression before finally inserting his dick inside your awaiting mouth. The tentacle still was on your wrist and come to binding both of your hands behind your back, preventing you any self pleasure with the exception of his dick inside your mouth.

"Take it in, Darling..!"

He murmured, his hand massaging your aching scalp whilst his ruby spheres looked down at you with a hint of sadism that matched his mischievous smirk.

He could only hear your muffled whines as you tried to claw the tentacle that wrapped your wrist together, he could see the evident teardrops forming and sliding down your cheeks as your throat caved in and took the shape of his cock perfectly.

"Mhn, such a good girl...!!""

He praised, hand travelling from your scalp to your chin that's covered with a thin coat of saliva and cum. He's been so lost in pleasure that he lost track of time how long your mouth has been stuffed by his cock.

You feel the sudden pull of your head, forcing you to release Alastor's dick from your mouth that stood tall, thick and angry red from you sucking him like an infant to a mother for the past minutes. Alastor glanced at the streaming saliva that travelled down from your chin to the valleys of your perky breasts, mixed with his thick, white semen that you seem to not get enough of.

"I'm sorry about this, love."

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #smut #x reader #alastor x reader #tentacles #ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT #HELP

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beansandsprouts · 4 months

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Sunshine (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Bucky interacts with you here and there and finds himself feeling more connected to you. Driving him to want to see your soulmate mark even more.

Warnings: none

Sorry it took so long! College and work got me dying lmao. Updates will continue to be kinda spaced out. Fingers crossed I can get another one out over the weekend.

Also I am absolutely delighted by how much interest there's been in this! Thank you all sm for reading. Down below with the tags there's a link to a little survey, even if you're already on the tag list please fill it out. It's how I'll be keeping track of the tag list. If you don't fill it out you won't be tagged.

He hadn't been able to sleep that night.

You were right across the hall. Two doors separated you from him. And it drove him crazy knowing that you, his possible soulmate, were so close yet just out of reach.

He had dozed in and out of consciousness through the night, but found himself wide awake when he heard shuffling coming from your room. Super soldier hearing meant he heard you get out of bed and pad to your closet. What were you doing?

He heard your door shut quietly, and you make your way down the hall, and, after a few moments, the ding of the elevator door.

His mind raced, wondering what you could be doing. The next thing he knew he was tugging on a hoodie over his tank top and sweats over his boxers. He padded down the hall to the elevator, the little number above lit up saying the elevator was stopped at the floor right underneath him. The training room.

That made sense. From the way you'd spoken about your time in the military yesterday, you were highly trained and a huge asset, you likely had gotten up this early to train for years. He stood there for a moment, debating on going down as well.

The thought that maybe he'd get to see your soulmate mark was enough to have him going back to his room to get his shoes, water bottle, and towel. He wanted to make sure he looked like he was actually down there to train.

Hey, maybe he'd even get to spar with you, get to see what you were capable of.

The elevator moved only one floor, but it felt like it was taking forever. The doors opened to the small lobby and he pushed open the doors to the training room. You were doing some stretches, warming yourself up, and you looked up when he entered.

"Mornin!"

He mumbled the greeting back, now suddenly extremely nervous and starting to wonder why exactly he thought this would be a good idea.

"Didn't think I'd catch anyone this early." You seemed unbothered, warm smile despite the fact that it was so early you could still see the stars in the dark sky if you looked out the window.

He grunted in response, not being able to find the words to respond. He stood there for a moment, watching you, before walking off to start his own warmup. Which consisted of lifting more weight than you could even dream of getting even an inch over your chest. But it was light work for him.

You continued stretching but subtly watched him. You were a little disappointed he was wearing a hoodie, it did kind of obscure everything. Though you could imagine how good his muscles looked lifting that weight. Your face warmed a bit at the thought and you tried to force yourself to focus on the light burn in your calves as you stretched.

After a bit, you moved to wrap your hands and feet, wanting to practice on one of the dozen punching bags Tony had in there. He'd offhandedly mentioned he had to design a lot of the equipment himself so they could withstand the beating of the two super soldiers living in this place.

You focused on the swaying bag in front of you, vaguely aware of Bucky doing things behind you, but not paying him too much mind. Your mind was on getting out that pent up energy. Working with the Avengers was going to be very different from your previous work, and you knew there'd be a lot less for you to do on the daily. You had a feeling you'd probably be spending a lot of time in here.

You barely registered Bucky saying your name from behind you. When it did you paused your beating on the punching bag and turned to him.

"Whats up?"

"Spar?"

"Huh?"

Bucky gestured to the mat meant for sparring a little ways away. It was a little padding so whoever got dropped on their ass only hurt their pride.

"Oh! Yeah, sure." You grinned, you had to admit the idea was exciting. You were curious to see how you'd fare against one of these two.

The two of you settled into stances on the mat and you gave him a teasing grin, "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

You saw the corner of his mouth twitch with amusement as he raised a brow.

"Oh?"

"I don't have to be as worried about breaking you."

His eyes lit with curiosity, just what exactly were you capable of.

He watched you closely as you circled each other before lunging, swinging his non-metal arm at you. You blocked the hit easily and returned it with a swing of your own, which landed. His head snapped to the side as your fist connected with his jaw.

He took a step back, rubbing where you'd hit him. He hadn't expected you to hit that hard. Hell, Steve was one of the few people who's hits actually made his body ache. You packed some heat he was not expecting.

He squared up again and the two of you traded some blows back and forth before he realized you were barely flinching at the hits he landed. So he decided to turn it up a notch, striking harder than he had before. You reciprocated that.

As the two of you sparred, his eyes narrowed, and Bucky's focus turned to seeing how far he could push you. His blows struck hard, one particular hit to your abdomen forced the air from your lungs, and you stepped back gasping.

He pushed forward, though, and despite the lack of air, you fended him off well. To anyone watching, it would seem like a friendly sparring match had turned malicious. However, both yours and Bucky's eyes were lit with delight at the fact that you'd found an equal opponent.

You finally decided to end the session with a swift attack to knock him to the ground and taking the opportunity to pin him, his arm twisted behind his back.

"I surrender." He chuckled. You released him quickly and offered a hand to help him up, which he took.

"Youre...tougher than I expected."

You tilted your head, "Did Tony not tell you?"

"Tell me what?" He asked.

"I'm also a weird military experiment. Except they aimed more for stealth than brute strength with me, still gave me that enhanced strength though." You explained as you used your towel to dab the sweat from your neck.

"You haven't been particularly stealthy."

You laughed, "Haven't been trying. Tell you what, turn off the light and see if you can find me in the dark."

Bucky's eyes scanned you curiously before walking over and flicking off the lights. When he turned back, he tried to peer through the darkness to find you. He even tried to listen for your breathing and heartbeat, but the room was dead silent.

It was unnerving as he stepped further into the room as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He slowly turned in a circle, hoping to spot you.

He thought he'd spotted you in a corner of the room until he felt a kick to the back of his knees, knocking him down. Suddenly, there was a hand gently resting around his throat and two fingertips pressed against his head in a mock figure of a gun.

"Surprise." You giggled and released him and went over to turn on the lights as Bucky stood up in a daze.

"How?" He demanded.

"My special serum gave me the ability to slow my heart and breath rate to the point where it's imperceptible, even to you. And I can move lightly so you can't even hear me walk. I can see in the dark, and all other senses are enhanced. Plus, the whole strength and pain tolerance thing. Literally, you just stealthy."

Bucky stared at you as you explained. He slowly realized you weren't really an equal. In fact, you were probably "better" than him in a sense. You had the ability to be completely imperceptible, even to him. You'd just proven you could have killed him easily, and he wouldn't have even seen it coming. It half scared him, and half had his heart racing with attraction.

"You ok?" You asked. He'd been staring at you silently for a good few seconds.

"I've just never met someone who could take me down like that."

"We're good though right?" Your expression had changed to one of nervousness.

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Some men have a tendency to feel threatened or emasculated."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"Don't gotta worry about that here."

"Good." You smiled softly at him before it turned into a mischievous grin, "Wanna see who can squat the most weight?"

His mouth quirked up in a half smile as he followed you. The next two hours consisted of you challenging him to see who could handle more. Endurance wise, you did better. However, in terms of raw strength, he did better than you.

Bucky found himself feeling amused, you were so different from him and Steve. They had a tendency to be a bit more reserved. Quieter. But you were bubbly and all over the place, all smiles and energy. It was strange knowing that you'd come from the military.

After a while, the two of you headed upstairs to eat breakfast. By then, most of the others were already awake and were surprised to see Bucky willingly hanging out with you.

It was amusing in a sense. You were like a living ray of sunshine, and Bucky was like a living storm cloud. Polar opposites. However right about now Bucky didn't seem to be as "rainy" as he usually was. The look on his face was more relaxed, and he nodded attentively as you spoke. He was genuinely interested in whatever you were saying.

The second you excused yourself for a shower, the teasing began.

"Seems Bucky has taken an interest in our new teammate." Natasha said slyly.

Bucky shot her a glare and busied himself with a cup of coffee.

"Can you blame him? She's a cute little thing." Sam chuckled.

"I heard she's a great warrior. That makes her even more attractive." Thor said from his seat.

Bucky gritted his teeth and sat down on the couch by Steve with his cup of coffee. He didn't want to tell them exactly why he was so interested. He knew if he did they'd want to get involved and it would just ruin everything.

So for now, he'd deal with the teasing and hope it wouldn't be long until he found out if it was his name marked on your arm.

He stared down into his mug, ignoring the joking going on around him. He barely knew you, and yet he was practically praying that you were his soulmate. That the name he had on his arm was written in your writing. That the name on your arm was his written in his messy chicken scratch.

-------------------------------------------------

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astrophileous · 6 months

Note

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I need anything fluffy (and I mean the most stomach churning, toe curling, quiet screaming fluff please 🥴🩷) for professor!spencer because I am actually frothing at the mouth DO YOU FEEL ME🗣️‼️ (mwah ily kith kith)

I might have written two blurbs for this request and I might have driven myself crazy trying to determine which one I should post so here's to wishing I didn't make the wrong choice 🤞 this one is special for you avis I hope you enjoy it MWAH 💖

Warning(s): gn!reader, I imagine reader being in grad school but you can imagine reader in college as well--that just means there's gonna be an age gap in there, if professor-student romantic dynamics isn't your thing you shouldn't be reading this, profanities(?), established relationship

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Have a good day, my love.

You grinned giddily at the text message popping up on the screen of your phone. Without wasting another second, your thumbs moved swiftly over the keypad as you typed in a response.

You too, honey. See you tonight at dinner <3

"What are you so smiley about?"

You quickly shoved your phone into the pocket of your pants before looking up towards the owner of the voice. Gladys stood to your left with a quizzical tilt to her eyebrows. Her eyes assessed you from head to toe before they landed back on your face.

"I'm not smiley. Who's smiley?"

"You are." Her eyes squinted. "Something smells fishy."

"You should check your bag. Maybe you accidentally threw your cat's wet food in there again."

"That was one time!"

Gladys scampered after you as you made your way into the lecture hall. Akbar was sitting on the third row when you walked in, immediately scooting over to make room for both Gladys and you to slip into your respective seats.

"Hey, did you guys hear?" Akbar asked as soon as you and Gladys plopped down next to him.

"Hear what?" Gladys asked.

"Apparently, some people are saying that Professor Chuckie is hitched."

Gladys' eyes grew comically wide. "He's what?"

Your brain was working in overdrive, trying to decipher whom exactly Akbar had meant by Professor Chuckie. Between him and Gladys, the two of them had a tendency of coming up with dozens of ridiculous code names for every single person they ever encountered in life, to the point where you were constantly struggling to keep up with them all.

"Who's Professor Chuckie again?" you eventually asked.

"Chuckie? From Rugrats?" Gladys hinted.

Your frown deepened. "Who?"

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Akbar sighed. "You know the man. Fluffy curly hair like Chuckie from Rugrats."

After swimming in a pool of confusion for the next few minutes, Gladys eventually took pity on you and blurted out, "It's Professor Reid, (Y/N). Professor Spencer Reid from Criminology department?"

Your stomach dropped to the floor.

How did they—

"A buddy of mine was at the criminology lab today and told me that everyone was talking about it," Akbar explained. "The Spencer Reid is married. It's a huge news."

"Damn right, it is." Gladys scoffed. "Why are all the fine men in my life already taken? I hate it here."

Akbar rolled his eyes. "Right. As if you ever had a chance with him anyway."

As your two friends proceeded to bicker with one another, you felt yourself sinking deeper into a temporal abyss as your brain tried to process what Akbar had just said.

Spencer Reid is married.

Everyone was talking about it.

A lump formed at the base of your throat as you faced Akbar again, "Hey, how did they—how did your friend find out that Professor Reid was married?"

"He showed up to work with a ring this morning."

Your heart was racing inside your chest. "That's it? Not a very conclusive evidence, isn't it? Maybe the man just likes his jewelry."

"Nah, I'd bet my money that he's hitched," Akbar said. "My buddy told me one of the students tried to ask him about it and he just kinda smiled and nodded. Never really answered the question, though."

"That does sound kinda sus," Gladys opined. "Makes me wonder what kind of person managed to bag a specimen like that."

You hummed distractedly in reply, too busy mulling over everything to actively participate in the conversation your friends were having. Your professor strode into the hall barely five minutes later, and before long, the class officially began, forcing you to shake off any irrelevant thoughts about Professor Chuckie and his ring from the deepest corners of your mind.

Today was the day every group in class had to present their last progress report before finals rolled around. As soon as the fifth group finished their presentation, you walked to the front of the class with Akbar and Gladys following closely behind.

Akbar stepped towards the desk, trying to connect his PC with the class projector. He fumbled with the cable for a few minutes before he sheepishly glanced at you and Gladys. "I don't think it's gonna work. Either of you brought a laptop today?"

"I brought mine," you announced. "Wait here."

You ran back towards your table to grab your laptop before connecting the device to the projector. As soon as the desktop of your laptop appeared on the big screen, the entire lecture hall suddenly erupted in a round of synchronized gasps.

Gladys was staring at you, a clear sign of shock on her countenance. "(Y/N)?"

"Dude," Akbar muttered breathlessly. "What the hell?"

You swept your gaze repeatedly between the two of them and the rest of the class, confusion dawning inch by inch with every second that ticked by. "What? What's going on?"

Akbar nudged your shoulder, gesturing you to look behind towards where the projected screen of your laptop was being shown to everyone in the room. Your mouth instantly ran dry when you realized what had the whole lecture hall so stunned for the past few minutes.

It was a picture—the one you had set up last week as the wallpaper of your PC desktop but somehow had managed to completely forget about—of you and Spencer lounging on the living room couch of your shared apartment, holding up your hands to show off the identical bands encircling your ring fingers. Spencer was smiling big towards the camera with a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders while you peeked behind his neck with a portion of your face concealed behind his untamed curls.

It was a sweet photo to commemorate the most important day of both of your lives, taken merely hours after you exchanged vows at the city hall and entrusted each of your own hearts towards the other person to keep, nurture, and love.

And now, that same photo was up on the wall of Room 2404 as an impromptu spectacle for your entire Data Analytics class to see.

From behind the desk, Professor Clegg cleared his throat. "So, (Y/N). You and Dr. Reid, huh?" He peered at you from behind his glasses, not the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, but a brightly twinkling mirth in his eyes. "I guess congratulations are in order."

You exhaled a tired breath and replied, "Thank you, Professor."

Once your presentation was over, you retired back to your seat and discreetly typed in a message as another group came forward to present their work. You threw your phone into your bag after hitting send, trying to ignore the whispered demands of your two friends as they badgered you for answers.

Across the campus, Spencer's phone dinged with an incoming text.

He pulled out the device promptly, failing to contain his smile as he read the message you had just delivered to him.

Thanks a lot for the heads up 👎 Looks like there's no need for me to keep my own ring hidden in the wallet anymore >:(

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bunnyboysrus · 4 months

Text

Of Monsters and Omegas

I read this a/b/o thing a while ago, I don't even know who the original was by I can't find it again y-y

but it had a thing I'd never seen in a/b/o before, with an idea of an alpha, claim biting another alpha and turning them into an omega (talked to a friend and it turns out this is a thing that has been written about more than once, im just out of touch and its not even friday) and it was an amazing story, super well written, I just personally didn't like the ending cause I'm the #1 advocate for brat readers and not the biggest fan of crybabies or the total pheromone brainwashing that people write for omegas that make them do the complete opposite of what they would normally do, I'd like to think they have more resistance to the chemicals than that albeit at the cost of some physical and psychological pain. so im writing my own, thingy, with a different ending.

18+ Minors DNI - 6.3k words Content Warnings: stalking, obsession, death, fighting, violence, blood, torture(?), kidnapping, noncon touching, suggestive, gangs, some degradation, reader is referred to as 'princess' gender neutrally (im new to this so if theres anything i forgot pls let me know)

The heavy sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed against the stone walls of the alleyway concealing the battered figures of the people fighting within it. One person lay dazed and immobile on the ground already, followed shortly by a second body, this one out cold before he even hit the ground. The last two fighters standing were locked in a desperate grapple, and despite having been beset upon by three assholes at once, the would-be victim who had been pulled into the alley on their way home from a long day of college classes gains the upper hand for the third and final time. Your muscles burn as you grunt and send the last assailant flying into the hard brick wall, one final crack ringing through the tight, dark space as they slide down the wall onto the dirty ground, right into an unfortunately placed puddle of dumpster juice. They leave a splatter of blood on the stone where the back of their head split on the stained grit.

Blood drips from the knuckles of the hand you run through the sweaty hair slicked to your forehead as you stoop and pick up your backpack from where it had been tossed to the side. You spot a wallet on the ground, knocked out of someone's pocket at some point during the fight, and pocket the cash from that too, for the inconvenience. These scumbags were lucky they weren't dead, yet, anyway. For this? They'd probably be killed within the week once you gave their ID's to your older sister.

You continue on your way back home, wiping the blood off your knuckles and face with the sleeve of your coat as you go.

Why those grunts had seemingly staked you out was beyond you, other than the obvious reason of being a member of their gang's most vicious and historied rival. Your family was a notorious one, a family business dealing mostly in drugs but with a few spare hands in money laundering and data gathering. You were fully aware that what your family did was illegal in a dozen different ways, but it was what you had grown up in, it was what paid for your lavish lifestyle, so who were you to be judgmental? Besides, to compromise within a morally gray area, you know your family prefers to keep things as bloodless as possible, less clean up and attention that way. As a fresh adult who was only in your second year of college however, you were ignorant to most of those details, and chose to be so. You understood why your family didn't want to involve you just yet, and you didn't care to dig into it, the longer you could go with less responsibilities, the better. So, for now, you were content to stay in the dark and live your carefree, well-funded life.

Of course, that didn't mean you were naive or anything. You know very well that you were in constant danger of being attacked or killed, even as you lived a perfectly normal college life. So, as any self-respecting alpha would, you worked out intensely and routinely, to the point of being intimidating even to other alphas. Running into a few punks here and there was nothing to you, even when they came in groups like they had today.

The remaining smears of blood on your knuckles have dried into a crust by the time you get home. Once you've kicked off your shoes at the door, you hide the gory evidence of your altercation in your coat pockets as you step into the living room of your family's manor. Your sisters, Nina, the youngest, and Esme, older than you but younger than your brothers, Leon and Silas, are sitting on the couch closest to the TV, a drama of some sort playing as they shared a bowl of strawberries. Nina beams at you from the couch.

"Hey! How was your day?"

Nina was still in high school, which in your opinion was way worse than college, so the fact that she still had the spunk and energy to greet you so enthusiastically warmed your heart. You smile back at her as you head for the stairs.

"It was pretty good, I finally finished that project so now I don't have to stay late at the library anymore."

"That's great! That means you'll be home early enough to watch Cats of Heaven with me!"

"I should have enough time for that, sure." You chuckle. You had no clue what that was, but if you had to guess, knowing your sister it was the newest silly cartoon that she had become infatuated with. At least she wasn't trying to get you to watch the insufferable dramas that she liked to watch with Leon and Esme, like what was on now, but you would never admit to your siblings how corny you thought those kinds of shows were. You could only hope Cats of Heaven was something more entertaining than the standard soap operas you'd observed.

"There's pizza in the kitchen." Esme calls to you as you start up the stairs.

Ah, so Leon isn't home yet. The oldest of your siblings was the one who normally cooked, more often than even your mother. You call back an acknowledgement before jogging up the stairs to your room. After cleaning yourself of the day's grime, and the blood of course, you change clothes and trot back downstairs, heading for the kitchen to obtain some of the aforementioned pizza. Getting past the group project you'd been working on for the past three months meant more free time after school for the immediate future, and you were all too keen to relax with your family, even if it meant slogging through a show that was potentially horrendous.

You pad back into the living room, already halfway through one of the five slices of cheesy divinity on your plate. You were just sitting down between Esme and Nina when the sound of keys in the front foyer made you all perk up.

"I thought they weren't coming back for another few days?" Esme voices the question on all of your minds, 'they' being your parents and oldest brother, who had left on a business trip a little under a week ago.

"Maybe they finished work early and wanted it to be a surprise." Nina suggests happily, as the sound of footsteps in the hallway grows closer. You're hit with a sudden wave of apprehension at the same time as Esme, both of you standing abruptly to move in front of your youngest sister as a crowd of strangers step into the room with shameless casualness. Leading them, is an imposing alpha man with ink black hair tied at the nape of his neck and burning red eyes so piercing it almost made you shiver to be caught in their gaze. Almost.

The only thing that overpowered the rising fear was anger.

You sprint directly for the leader, arm pulled back for a haymaker, but some beta grunt gets in your way and takes the blow. It's clear from the confidence with which he steps in that he was unprepared for the force behind the fist, and ends up on his face on the floor, dead to the world. The first swing immediately spurs the others into action, and they surge around their leader to subdue you. It turns out to be a much harder endeavor than any of them anticipate, even when one lackey throws themself onto your back to weigh down your movement, you move as though the weight wasn't there at all, ramming backwards and crushing the brave idiot and one other against the wall. You're about to make another lunge for the leader, who has so far been lounging in an insufferably smug manner against the wall, watching the fight but not bothering to get involved, when you hear a shrill scream behind you that stops you cold.

You turn back to see Nina trapped in the arms of a muscly thug, and Esme thrashing on the ground at her feet, held down by two others. Your rage surges and you move to attack their captors, but the momentary distraction caused by your little sister's distress is all the time that's needed for three more men to jump on you and drag you to the ground. It takes 5 people altogether to hold you down as you curse and struggle against their hold trying to reach your sisters.

The leader of the home invasion chuckles condescendingly as he finally moves from his spot against the wall and walks closer, kneeling down by your face, a tight smile on his face that holds no amusement.

"You're just as feisty as ever, second youngest. I've heard all about your track record in fights, your unbroken win streak was so intimidating that I thought for sure it'd take more than that to subdue you. I'm a little disappointed."

"Fuck you!!!" It's all you can manage to spit out amongst your fury and exhaustion; normally you'd be able to throw off even five people, at least enough to get an arm free to strike out, but you were already worn out from your earlier fight. That, and a literal glob of spit that lands splat dab against the side of the assault leader's nose; damn, so close to hitting him in the eye.

The room goes cold and still, the thugs surrounding you and your siblings seem to take in a collective breath of anxiety, looking nervously to their leader for his reaction. To their surprise, he simply stares down intensely at the struggling alpha on the floor as he wipes the spit off his cheek... and licks it off his thumb.

"Oh, are you sure that's smart? You might not care about your own compromised position... but you care about theirs, right?" He glances over to the men holding down your sisters and in response to an unspoken signal, they draw knives and hold them menacingly against their throats. Esme growls furiously, but Nina screams again in fear as tears pour down her cheeks.

"Stop! Stop it, don't terrorize them! You're here for me, right?! Then just take me outside and beat me to death if that's what you want but leave them alone!!!" You still sound enraged, but even you are aware of the fear that leaks into your voice.

"Aww, worried for your sisters? Me too." The faux amusement in the alpha leader's voice is gone now, replaced with a cold fury chilling enough to send a zing of worry into your spine. The leader grabs a fistful of your hair in a painfully tight grip as he pulls your head up, his other hand spinning a set of keys around his finger. Your blood runs cold when you zero in on the plastic pink dolphin hanging on the ring.

Those are your mother's keys.

"You seem to think I'm here because you put a few grunts into the hospital. You're mistaken." The alpha tilts his head as his eyes pierce into yours, searching, but for what, you don't know. "You aren't aware of what your brother's been up to, are you?"

"You'll have to be more specific; I have two." You huff, trying not to stare too obviously at the dolphin, trying desperately not to think of what it might mean of your mother's fate for this asshole to be holding those keys.

"Silas." The alpha says icily, speaking the name like a curse.

Warily, you shake your head, the clawed grip on your head barely allowing the movement. "No, I'm not aware of anything my brothers and parents are involved in."

"That's unfortunate... But I'm already aware of that. It's cute, honestly, did they think leaving you out of the loop would keep you safe and uninvolved?" He gives your hair a sharp tug, eliciting a hiss from the fuming alpha. "All it did was make you the perfect tool for revenge."

"What the fuck are you even talking about you piece of shi-" The leader slams your face into the ground, and although the floor is carpeted, it only buffers the brunt force so much. When the leader lifts your head back up, your nose is dripping blood.

"I'm talking now. Unless you want me to kill your sisters in front of you, you'll shut the fuck up and listen like a good little bitch."

A growl rumbles through you which is met with another face first kiss into the floor, but the alpha doesn't signal anything to the thugs holding your sisters.

"Listen well, as I won't repeat myself. Silas kidnapped my sister, and I can only assume he claimed her. That, or he killed her, but I doubt it. Your mother was helping him to keep them both hidden, and to her credit she refused to sell him out, no matter how much we hurt her." The spinning of the keys stops abruptly as the leader catches them in his palm before dangling them in front of you. "I guess she didn't stop to think about what that choice might mean for her other children, left so innocent and unaware at home, alone. Maybe she had a favorite?"

Your blood runs cold as you take in the intruder's words. You had never been particularly close with Silas, hell, none of your siblings were. He had always been very distant with his siblings, while the rest of you went on to be incredibly close with one another, leaving Silas as the odd one out. That wasn't to say you hadn't all at some point tried to get closer with him, he had simply always made it clear he had no interest. This was probably also fueled by the coddling you had all observed from your mother; Silas had always been her golden boy, incapable of wrongdoing.

"I had no idea... None of us did." You can only hope the sincerity is clear in your voice and face; you genuinely had no idea your brother had done such a thing or was even capable of doing such. If the kidnapping was fueled by anything other than the feud between your families... The thought made you sick.

The leader considers your words, his chilling gaze never wavering in the slightest from yours.

"I believe you. From what I gather, based on what we were able to discern from the phone we took from your mother, she and he were the only ones in on it."

Your relief is short lived when a cruel, mirthless smirk creeps over the leader's face. There's a sudden sting in the side of your neck, you barely have time to register the pinch of pain before darkness rushes into your vision from all sides.

"However... That doesn't alleviate you of the consequences."

A sudden splash of cold drags you unwillingly out of the darkness. You open your eyes, gasping, taking in the dirty, gray stone, the puddle surrounding you; you're no longer in your living room. You now find yourself somewhere dark and cemented on all sides, the cold dampness pervading the space the kind that only comes from being underground. The only illumination comes from a single bare bulb swinging on a frayed wire over your head, the light it casts only making the space feel more unnerving.

Looming over you, face cast eerily in the darkness clumping up around the edges of the bulb's dingy light, is the leader of the home invasion. His red eyes are black in the shadow, but still alight with something cruel and mocking. He has a bucket in his hand, empty save for the last few drops of water clinging to the lip, the rest of it covering you.

"Good morning, princess. Sleep well?"

It's just the two of you, alone. No guards, no thugs, no sign of your sisters. You process this information a split second before you register the weight clamped down around your arms and waist, metal rattling loudly through the small space when you try to lunge for him, only to be stopped short by a chain attached to the wall behind you. You twist your arms violently, feeling the bite of handcuffs digging into your wrists, chains pulling taught where they're wrapped around your waist. Your captor laughs at your efforts.

It's when you growl in response to the taunting laughter that you feel more metal on your face. A muzzle. You can't suppress the fury thrashing around in your chest like a wild animal, growing more and more violent the more humiliation is piled on. The abduction, the laughter, the restraints, the muzzle. You kick and pull and yank and spit and snarl, don't stop even when the metal bites and blood makes your skin slippery against the cuffs.

"Aww, throwing a tantrum now? Cute." The words are barely enough warning before you're shoved onto your back, arms grinding painfully between the restrains and the dirty floor.

Your captor straddles you, his weight keeping your body pressed flat to the ground while one hand settles into the curve of your throat and squeezes. His palm presses lightly into your airway at the same time that his thumb rubs slow, pensive circles in the dip between your neck and collar. You shiver apprehensively when it brushes over the scent gland in your neck.

"I already told you I don't know where your sister is. Fucking kill me already so you can get even, just don't hurt my sisters. They're not involved!"

"Second time you've asked me to kill you... you seem quite keen on it." He smirks. "Unfortunately, you're all involved by virtue of simply being a part of that family. I know none of you are stupid enough to be completely ignorant to your family's doings."

Another growl bubbles up in your throat, only to be choked into silence when your captor tightens his grip around your neck.

"You know, I've thought for a while now that the older you've gotten, the less happy you've looked. The worst time, was right after your high school graduation, it was like the last of your light had left your eyes." His smile softens into something pitying, bordering on sympathetic even, but all you feel is chills running up and down your spine. "You always used to be so carefree, and spirited, it was crushing to see you looking so worn down and sad. It took me a while to realize what was killing the happy you I love so much."

The hands around your neck loosen as the leader leans down, hips shifting against your crotch as he moves, completely unbothered by the water soaking into his pants. He brings his face to your ear, lips grazing against the shell of it.

"Don't you think trying so hard to posture around like a big tough alpha is exhausting? I know it is, I know intimately the sort of shit we go through to come out on top as the strongest, the worthiest... But that struggle never suited you, did it? You've always seemed too sweet for it to me, more like an omega than an alpha."

You can't help but take the opportunity to thrust your head forward and slam it into your captor's face, forcing him back into his upright position. Ignoring the stalker shit this guy was just babbling was difficult, but you decided to skip it for now since honestly you didn't really wanna hear the details...

"You've gotta be shitting me, I've sent hundreds of you losers to the hospital and the grave since I was a middle schooler. If you're seriously trying to compare me to an omega, then I know you're full of it and just trying to piss me off."

He raises an eyebrow, surprisingly not retaliating against the bonk to his head, not yet at least.

"So, what would you call the manicures you get monthly with your sister?"

"I call that self-care and spending time with my sister. Fighting off all your fuckin' grunts wears my hands out and I'm not fond of scars. I deserve a relaxing hand massage for the trouble of beating your thugs up every week."

"And the mall trips where you spend hundreds on clothes which you follow up with a trip to that quaint little bakery where you always get a strawberry cream cake? That doesn't strike you as omega-ish?"

"Go to hell. For one thing, it's insanely creepy that you know all that, and for another, you're stereotyping like a motherfucker. Alphas aren't all meatheads that do nothing but eat raw steak, jerk off and work out, and all omegas aren't valley preps that do nothing but shop and primp. People who think like you are what's wrong with society."

The leader's deep red eyes stare intensely into your face for an eerily long moment before the corners of his lips twitch. At first its imperceptible, and while he clearly fights to keep a straight face, he can't keep down the chuckles bubbling out of his throat for long. He throws his head back in a burst of full body laughter, the least cruel sound he's made since you met him. When he finally manages to calm himself, the leader beams down at you as he wipes a tear out of his eye.

"My god... You're so fucking cute. Do you even hear yourself? You're only proving my point. You're meant to be pampered and taken care of, sheltered and safe from petty street fights and laborious expectations of strength and intimidation. You look so much cuter and happier getting your nails done than you do working out and swaggering around trying to be impressive and domineering."

This conversation had already been creepy since it started, but this was starting to genuinely unnerve you. You try to lean your head further away from the alpha on top of you, but he grabs the front of your muzzle, dragging you closer.

"Don't run away now tough guy. I thought a big bad alpha like you wasn't scared. How's it feel to be the one on bottom? Feeling threatened by the idea of someone putting you in your place? Scared?" He drags his tongue across the thin bars of the muzzle, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"What do you want from me?" You finally manage to ask, despite the tightness in your throat. As much as you expect to dread the answer, you can't stand any more of the back and forth while you wait in suspense for torture, for death, for something. Something other than whatever it is about this whole exchange that is making this guy so rock hard. You're trying to ignore it but, you've been feeling the unmistakable prod of this weirdo's boner against your crotch for almost the whole time you've been speaking.

"Still waiting on me to kill you? Knowing how proud you are, I bet you'd prefer death over what I have planned for you." The freak on top of you chuckles, his voice lowering to a husk as he leans down and nuzzles his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. "You smell so sweet even now, for an alpha...~ You'll smell even better soon."

Before you can ask what the hell he's talking about, you feel a kitten lick against your neck that makes you freeze. It's light at first, but quickly turns into broad strokes of his tongue and open mouth kisses from shoulder to jaw, wet and insistent.

No way. Nowaynowaynowaynoway. Obviously, no one is incapable of being sexually assaulted but it rarely ever happened to alphas, they weren't exactly the cute, easy targets creeps normally went for. It had never even been a passing concern for you up until now.

"Hey! Are you fucking-gh...!" You choke on your words when a sharp sting pulses through your neck. A heartbeat later, a deep and agonizing burning sensation starts to spread through your veins, up into your head where the white-hot burn is so blaring that it clouds your vision with spots, and down into your chest where your heart starts pounding against your ribs like it's trying to claw its way out. You can only gasp soundlessly as pain like you've never experienced rips through you, tearing screams from your lungs that die before they can even leave your throat, coming out only as gasping whimpers. It's after you feel a second bite and the pain is redoubled that you finally manage to shriek out loud, a sound so visceral and so unlike any sound or scream you've ever made that it doesn't even sound like you.

When he bites into your scent gland for a third time, the pressure building behind your eyes from the pain and the lightheadedness of screaming without pause for breath snaps. You can feel yourself losing consciousness again, and this time you couldn't be more grateful for it.

Your return to the waking world is much slower this time. Whereas before you were yanked out of the darkness with a splash of cold water, this time you find yourself wading through it, a lake of sludge thicker than cold syrup, and it was just as sticky and unpleasant as you imagine such a thing would be. Despite what feels like physical pounds of exhaustion weighing them down, you manage to drag your eyes open.

You feel cold and damp all over, a fresh drop of sweat rolling down your neck. A full body ache that sinks deep into your bones covers you; you feel like you're made of glass, fragile, weak and sore.

A strip of dim, greyed light is shining on the ceiling over your head; its all you can focus on as your awareness swims to the surface and clambers out of the heavy lake still trying to drag it down. You shift and lift one of your arms out from under the thick blanket covering you and notice gauze wrapped around your wrist. A small, delicate gasp to your side makes you turn your head. Nina is sitting in a chair by your bedside, clutching your other hand tightly between hers.

"You're awake! Y-You were sleeping so long I thought you'd never..." She sniffles, holding your hand to her cheek as hot tears drip onto your wrist. You slowly turn your hand to press your palm against her cheek, smiling softly.

"It's okay Nina, I'm alive, it's alright." Your voice is barely more than a croak, scratching painfully out of your throat. Nina grabs a cup of water from a bedside table and gently helps you take a few sips. When you've managed to drain the whole cup, you lay back in the bed with a wearied sigh.

"What happened? I thought for sure I was dying, I..." You trail off, thinking back to the odd conversation you'd had with the alpha who had led your home's invasion. Your head is pounding, and you feel so weak, like you're just waking up from the worst part of a flu, still feeling traces of a fever in the heat trapped in your blankets and the sweat clinging to your skin. A growl from the window pulls your attention away from your condition.

"That motherfucker... He did something to you." Esme is leaning against the frame of the large window casting the gray light over the ceiling a few feet away from where you and Nina are sitting, a cigarette crushed in half in her hand. You can't help but be faintly alarmed at the sight of it; Nina had expressly forbidden Esme from smoking, and she hadn't been caught with a cigarette in over a year. To see her with one in front of Nina, and for Nina to not be making any fuss over it, means something is seriously wrong. A distant rumble punctuates the tense silence that falls over you all, and you notice that the slim strip of sky visible through the partially parted curtains over the window is blotted out with storm gray.

"Did what to me?" You press. Your sisters exchange a look that is far too loaded to discern anything from other than Nina's palpable concern and Esme's frustration. You quickly get tired of waiting for one of them to tell you what is going on.

"Will one of you please tell me what is making you both look at me like I've caught some kind of fatal disease?" You huff, anxiety bleeding into your words. Nina glances one more time to Esme, who adamantly refuses to look away from the window as she throws down her ruined cigarette and retrieves a new one.

"You... Er, well you were... claimed. By Emil." Nina says quietly, staring down at her hands in her lap rather than you.

You stare at her blankly. What she's saying makes sense objectively, but you can't make sense of what it could have to do with you. Claiming was something exclusively done between alphas and omegas. You almost want to laugh and call it absurd, when you remember the sharp, burning pain of something piercing your neck. You shiver as you recall that the pain had been sourced in the same area as your scent gland. Your hand slowly, shakily, reaches up to press two probing fingers to your neck. Pain pulses faintly through you again when the tips of your fingers find gauze wrapped around it.

The weakness pervading your entire body, the nervousness underlying all of the other emotions swirling in your gut, the foreign sensation settled in your lower abdomen... Somehow, you know instinctively what it all means before your sister even says it.

"He bitched you. You're an omega now." Esme's voice has dropped to a low, hard to hear octave. You almost want to believe you imagined what you just heard, but you know deep down that what she says is true. The despair must show on your face, as Nina grabs your hand again, squeezing it tightly between both of hers.

"I-It'll be okay...! Emil is actually very nice, and he's genuinely-" She's cut off by the sharp slam of Esme's fist against the wall.

"Bullshit! Don't even start Nina. He bitched you and he expects you to roll over and be happy about it, but I say fuck that!" She snarls, her new cigarette meeting the same fate as its predecessor as she crushes it in her fist and throws it to the ground. "He's gone on and on at us trying to prove that this is all somehow what's best for you, but he just sounds deranged! He's a sick, obsessive freak, and he wants you to-!"

The sound of a door opening stops her short, and all three siblings jerk around to look at the newcomer entering through the door on the far side of the room from the bed. A woman in scrub pants and a sweater glowers down at all three siblings, looking supremely exhausted.

"You two, you were told you would only be allowed in if you didn't cause trouble. Are you distressing the patient right after they wake up?" She asks in a cold, droning voice.

Nina and Esme exchange defeated, worried glances before Nina speaks up.

"N-No ma'am, we weren't trying to be disruptive we were just-"

"Overwhelming someone coming out of a physically taxing ordeal that left them comatose for almost two weeks." She interjects dryly. "Come on, visitation's over, both of you out."

You expect your sisters to argue, to tell her off for expecting them to leave you alone and insist on staying with you, but to your shock your sisters resignedly stand up and head for the door. Once they've both shuffled out, the nurse (?) shuts the door behind them and trudges over to you. You flinch away from her touch, but she grabs you in firm but gentle hands, holding you still as she looks you over.

"I expected you to stay out for a few more days, but you're one tough little cookie. How are you feeling?"

Bewildered but too shell shocked to question, you answer the questions she asks you as she goes about taking your temperature and blood pressure. One impromptu physical later, she steps away from your bed with a satisfied nod.

"Alright, it looks like your recovery is progressing better than expected. You'll probably be up and about like nothing happened within a few days." You listen to her ramble about your condition before you can bring yourself to ask.

"What happened to me? Is... Is what my sister said true? Am I an omega?"

The nurse goes silent. The pitying look she gives you is all the confirmation you need.

"You should go back to sleep for now. Your body probably still feels very weak. Food will be brought to you shortly but try not to stress yourself out in the meantime." It's all she says before she hurries to the door, shutting your questions down with a firm slam. You scramble to your feet, swaying violently as soon as you try to stand. You power through it, holding down a lurching sensation akin to being on the verge of throwing up as you stagger to the door and wrench at the knob. Locked.

Fear and worry overtake you as you start slamming your hands and body into the door, though what you're trying to accomplish, not even you know. You're too weak to even stand, let alone break down a door, and before long, cold rushes into your limbs and you find yourself sliding down onto the floor, trembling and barely keeping down the bile crawling up your throat. You curl up into a ball and close your eyes.

When you awake for the third time, you don't feel nearly as ill. The ache in your limbs is still there, a mild constant, but it doesn't feel as debilitating as it did before. As you are in the middle of waking, you feel a cool hand brushing through your hair, and smell a sweet scent around you that puts you at ease. You can't help but lean your face into the hand petting you as your eyes slowly open. Snuggled against you, both arms wrapped securely around you... is that fucking freak.

You jerk away from the home invasion leader's hand, pulling him out of what looks like a deep reverie as you scramble to the side of the bed farthest from him. He smiles at you in amusement as he sits up, leaning his cheek against a fist propped on his knee.

"Good morning, princess. How are you feeling?"

You rub your hand over your neck, now free of gauze, feeling the bite marks in your skin in hyper-detail.

"You fucking... y-you, what did you do...?!" You demand, your voice a slightly higher pitch than you recall it being and shaking.

He chuckles like this was exactly what he was expecting, looking at you with a coy condescension that makes your skin crawl.

"I helped you; the first step to setting up our beautiful romance was making you an omega so I could care for you without any power struggles getting in the way. I'm not saying I look down on alphas having relationships with other alphas, but it just wasn't for me." His grin broadens as he crawls closer to you, closing the distance you'd put between you. You try to back up further, but he corners you against the headboard, arms caging you in on either side. He leans his head down, you shrink into yourself as he does but its not far enough, and his cheek brushes yours as he licks up the side of your neck. When his tongue glides over the bites on your neck, a shudder runs through you unbidden. A sudden rush of wetness between your legs shocks you to a frozen standstill. The freak looming over you takes a deep inhale, shuddering in ecstasy.

"I was right... You smell so much sweeter like this!" He presses against you, one knee parting your legs as one of his hands rubs the burning heat between your thighs. You reach to grab his wrist and pull it away, but his free hand catches yours and holds it down. The uncomfortable wetness gets worse as a heat purrs through your core, goaded by his touching.

You feel a foreign sensation crawling through your brain, sickeningly warm and disorienting. It urges you to pull your hands away, spread yourself open willingly before the alpha in front of you. It promises bliss in submission, ecstasy in relinquishing control to someone bigger and stronger than you, someone who could protect and ravish you-

A jolt runs through you as your captor's hand drifts up to dip underneath the waistband of your pants, his face lifting up from your neck to direct his affections to your lips. His attempt to take a kiss is stopped short violently by a fist slamming into his nose. He falls backwards off the side of the bed with an undignified yelp, curling up on the floor for an agonizing moment to hold his face as blood rushes between his fingers.

"W-What the hell... Aren't you...?"

"GO TO HELL YOU UGLY FREAK!!!" The panic you feel is pushed down, rage swallowing it entirely. The alpha on the floor quickly backs up as you get to your feet, fists clenched and shaking in fury.

"But I claimed you...! You can't-"

"I don't give a shit what you did! Did you seriously think I'd tolerate you touching me?! Get the hell OUT!!!!!" You scream loud enough to make your voice hoarse in your already aching throat, grabbing anything you can to hurl at him. Pillows and plastic cups chase him out as he scrambles back to the door, muttering a promise to visit again once you're in a better mood. A pillow smacks into the door with alarming force in the spot where his head had been just a split second earlier. As for the idea of you ever being in any mood that would make you tolerate being in his presence...

Fat chance of that.

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floshav · 1 year

Note

more rodrick PLSSSSS it can be anything

omg this is my first req ever and im so excited thank you!!

you wanted more Rodrick well here's more Rodrick.

part 2 out now!!

summary: Rodricks your best friend but thats not enough for you. As much as you hate to admit, you like the boy. That's why you show up drunk and high at one of his infamous house parties after he'd ranted to you about how he was so so in love with Heather Hills.

warnings: angst, heartache, kissing, Heather Hills, pining, weed, alcohol, crying, one sided love kinda, self hate

wc: 1k+

"She was so pretty."

"Oh yea?"

"No. I dont think you understand, like the way her hair smelled when she strut past me, the smell of..... smell of something light. Fresh! Pink even."

Rodrick practically had stars in his eyes when he described how his crush was at school. You'd be ecstatic if the crush was you, but the world is cruel so here you were talking about Heather Hills for the last hour or so.

"Y'know... I heard she spat on Louise last week. Poor kid, was dosed in her icky saliva for the whole day." Y/n was selfish but she tried to paint Heather in a bad light.

"Shit i'd pay good money for her to spit on me."

Well that backfired she thought.

"Freak" Y/n lightly laughed as she fell back onto Rodricks soft bed. Chest heaving up and down whilst her mind felt clouded.

"What can I say, love makes anyone a freak."

There was that word again. Love. How could he be bloody in love with little miss Heather Hills. The queen of highschool. The perfect girl. Pretty blondie. Pretty face. Y/n quickly began to realise there were plenty of reasons for Rodrick to crush on her. Y/n was a nobody. She thought her face ugly, her style wack, her eyes too uneven. She hated, hated, hated herself and wished she looked like Heather.

"Oh. My. God. I just had the best fucking idea" Rodrick exclaimed with the dorkiest smile he could produce, each fine line below the thickness of his eyebrows seen under the dim lighting of his room.

"Hmm?" Y/n buzzed as she basked in the coolness of his sheets

"M'gonna throw a party" "Heather would definitely come, i mean its one of my parties we're talking about."

Flashbacks to Rodrick's last party hit y/n's head like a train when she remembered how chaotic and horrible the experience was. Drunk teens shouting and chugging unknown beverages, shoulders brushing against shoulders constantly as she tried to find a room she could breath in without having to see another damn couple absolutely devouring eachother. Each and every minuscule second she'd spent in that house made her want to puke. The sight that made her want to puke the most was Rodrick's clearly drunk self throwing himself onto Heather, eyes sparkly with hope whilst she just sat there smiling so sweetly it was sickening.

Quickly she was sent back to reality.

"D'you think that's a good idea?" she questioned, tired.

"Course it is! she always comes to my things"

"Kay' whatever you think is gonna earn you your little dream girl specimen."

"Trust me, this times different." That's what he always said.

--------------------------------------

It's ok. It's ok. I-It's.... it's gonna be fine. she told herself as she admired the makeup she'd put on for tonight's occasion, she'd tried to copy one of Heathers famous looks, but quickly realised it didn't suit her skin so she stuck to her usual and hated herself for it. It was dreadfully the day of his party. The day that she'd have to witness him openly flirt with Heather just because he had an excuse to down a dozen bottles of cheap booze. She swiped a smear of lipstick that somehow ended up below her lip and sighed as she adjusted her shirt. Why do you always give in? Just confess you idiot. No! what the fuck am i thinking. she scrunched her nose and took a deep breath in, abusing her vanity with the pressure from the pads of her fingers.

She really really didn't want to go. She couldn't bare seeing Heather show up with her annoyingly perfect face, her perfect nose, her perfect hair, her stupidly sweet personality that everyone gaped over. Fuck it. She hated herself and wanted to forget that Rodrick even existed.

She found her not so hidden stash of weed she'd carelessly left under a pile of worksheets from her chemistry class, something ionic bonding. She didn't know how long it'd sat there for but it stained the ziplock bag a dull yellow. The bag was crinkled and smelled like the thought of Rodrick. Whenever she was upset or mad at Rodrick she'd smoke weed to drown the thoughts out but she slowly realised it was ruining the drug as a whole for her.

She rolled a joint in a random piece of paper she'd found thrown on her floor and lit up the end, taking a deep whiff of it, smile playing on her lips.

-----------------------------

"Animals.....Elephants....Tiguurrrsssss!" She slurred as she laid flat on her disheveled bed scrunching the sheets as her eyes formed stars around her ceiling. She got up abruptly, hair a mess and rubbed her eyes deepening the pressure with every second. "Rrrr... What time? Uggggh" She sighed as she reached for her phone. Her room was cloudy and smelled of green. Beside her were a few empty glasses so she took a sniff, curious. Happy juice? No, Vodka she thought. She saw the emptied out bottle of cheap convenience store alcohol by the side of her feet a long with the yellowed bag of weed which was empty. it'd been around 2 hours since she blacked out on her bed somehow thinking about how her fan looked like the shape of animals. Shit, fuck, ass, asshole! she muttered under her breath as she plopped back down.

"Why not? What's thurrr worst that could happennn?" she mumbled eyes fluttering as she picked up her bag and stumbled out her window, careful not to wake anyone. She took the route down the tree that always worked for her but in a clumsy fashion as she fumbled down the hard branches of her overgrown escape buddy. Craaack, Creeeeak. The continuous sounds made her annoyed. "Uggggfh can't everyone just shut up!!"

--------------------------------------

There she was. Standing dumb, drunk and high in front of the booming house lit up by warm yellow light. She could already smell the familiar smell of cheap alcohol, body odour and weed. My kind of night she thought as she barely made her way to the entrance. There were already people outside partying like no tomorrow as some flipped their hair to some overplayed hip hop song that everyone knew. While some were more restricted, sipping on booze as they giggled with their friends. The true highschool experience y/n thought.

Bump.

"Hey! Watch it-"

"Y/n?"

It was someone with beautiful waves of blonde still visible from her clouded vision, pretty makeup and a perfect body. Heather.

"O-Oh hey Heather! Pretty little Heather Hills." Y/n slurred as her vision was still blurred

"Uhm... Y'alright?" She questioned looking back at her friends as if y/n was cuckoo.

"No. No. No. No! Y-you. You. You and your stupidly perfect self can go to hell!" y/n lashed out

"W-what? Y/n what the fuck is wrong with you?" Heather said clearly freaked out by the sudden aggression.

Tears started to cloud y/n's vision so she took in a deeeeep breath trying to suck in as much oxygen as she could.

"Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! You- You're all he wants. Heather, heather, heather! My perfect little heather with her pretty little face!" Y/n cried out as her knees began to weaken. She had no sense of shame, embarrassment or anxiety. She was too blacked out for this. So blacked out she just blurted her deepest darkest thoughts.

A crowd began to form around them, some curious at the sudden shouting girl who was crumbling a part, vulnerable in front of some people she didn't even know the names of.

"W-what? What are you even saying y/n." Heather said confused and disturbed as she began to back away.

Warmth began to spread at the small of y/n's back. Rodricks hand.

"Y/n? Why the fuck are you screaming?- Y/n s-shit you're not alright." Rodrick hastily slung y/n's arm around his shoulder careful with her as if she was a piece of fine china.

"S-sorry bout' that Heaths, trust me she doesn't mean anything she's saying" Rodrick stutters clearly not drunk enough, nervous as he realises that Heather is clearly agitated.

"Y-yea. It's okay Rodrick. It's not your fault, just get her far from here kay?" Heather said with sympathy and those stupid doe eyes whilst placing a hand on his shoulder. This should've made him tremble with pleasure, but the fact that she'd talked about y/n as if she was a monster made him angry.

"Yea. Yea alright." Rodrick scoffed, lightly rolling his eyes before dragging y/n's blacked out figure up his carpeted staircase, the carpet grazing her knees creating a friction which burned satisfyingly on her kneecaps.

"Fuuuck. Fuck..." Y/n softly mumbled, head tilting to the side of his shoulder as he firmed his grip on the side of her shoulder. Shoulders.... shoulders are for friends, real girls get hands put on their waist. Not shoulders. She managed to conjure the thought in her hazed mind.

He struggled to open his door as y/n's body weight pressed into the side of him as he suddenly heard silent weeps of sorrow erupt from her lips.

He set her on the foot of his bed, careful not to drop her anywhere harsh.

"Y/n? Y/n what's wrong, you're like black out drunk." He asked now bending down with both hands on his knees.

He slowly caresses his hand over the hill of her cheekbone and shoves a fly of hair away from her puffy eyes.

"You....i... Im sick of you and- and her." She sighs as a hysterical tear falls from her eye. Her face was the saddest Rodrick had ever seen and this broke his heart.

"Me and... me and who y/n?" He said so softly as he began to crouch so so close to her, his eyes looking up into hers with genuine curiosity and care. The mention of her name fluttered her heart.

"Heather" She breathed out involuntarily sniffling.

"You don't like me talking about her?" He slowly asked as if all the dots were finally clicking together.

"That's a stupid question." He lowly chuckled as he swiped his thumb under the pad of her eyes.

"I.. I really- I really"

"You really what?" He said again so so softly

"I really like you." She blurted before she felt that familiar rush of heat rapture her face.

Rodrick's eyes glance down to her swollen lips and he feels a strong ache pill at his heart. His best friend just confessed about her underlaying fondness of him and he'd been an ass talking about Heather all the time. He imagined how bad it must've sucked all the damn time.

"I-I'm so sorry I- I always talked about her."

"No! don't fucking be sorry you idiotttt." She slurred

"You- You don't owe me anything." She smiled softly as she fluffed up his hair.

"Maybe..." This is wrong he thought

"Maybe i do owe you an apology." He said slow and steady as he glanced down to her lips and locked with it for the final time.

He slowly moved in to plant a soft kiss on her puffy lips and her eyes widened in surprise.

The kiss felt like heaven and she tasted like everything he was used to. A hint of cherry chapstick, a lot of weed and something coconut. His lips felt so soft against hers and she breathed in every second of the experience. She almost wanted to whine when he pulled away.

"I- Fuck."

Y/n's euphoric high was quickly ruined at the notice of him clearly regretting his decision.

"No- It's fine Rodrick. I get it, it was just a in the moment thing." She sighed as she put both her hands to her face rubbing her cheeks and eyes as if she was trying to rid off the pain in her heart.

"No, no, no! it's not that."

"I just..."

"Fuck it." He went in for another kiss.

--------------------------(end)

thank u for the request!! i hope this was enough to satisfy ur rodrick need lol, if u ever want a smutty end to this lmk but yarrrrr

#rodrick heffley #doawk rodrick #rodrick x y/n #rodrick x fem!reader #rodrick #rodrick x reader #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick imagines #rodrick fanfic #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x fem reader #rodrick fanfiction #rodrick heffley fanfiction

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scholastic-dragon · 8 months

Note

Hello o' talented one! I beseech thee to answer my request. (Feel like I'm summoning the Eternal Dragon 🐉)

If it pleases you and fulfills you're requirements: the baybois unspoken crush suddenly smooching them after thinking the bois died in a mission. Separately, of course.

Thank youuuu

This was the fanciest request I've ever gotten

^ this is how I felt when I started writing this lmao

(Seperate)Bay!Turtles x Gn!reader

Home Safe

Tears streamed down your face, your leg bouncing, making your body shake. I'd been hours. He was supposed to be back hours ago.

You sat in his room, on his bed, hands holding your head, willing the thoughts to stop.

He was going to come home.

He will.

He had to.

He promised.

It was a simple mission, one they'd done with the police force dozens of times. Find the tagged target, pin and neutralize them, and beat the shit out of them so the cops could take them to the station.

But this gang was known to be violent. Without reason. Without mercy.

He'd hugged you goodbye, and now you wished you'd followed your gut and told him right then and there that you loved him.

Voices rang outside the door, your heart leap: it was several.

You stand, facing the door, heart pounding.

The door opens, and there he stands....

Leo:

You sob, rushing forward, wrapping your arms around his midsection.

"Hey, hey," He coos, wincing slightly. Dropping his sheathed katanas to the floor he wraps his large arms around you. "It's alright,"

"I thought you died," You whisper, voice thick. You look up at him, he's covered in dirt and mud, and splatters of blood but he's alive and in your arms.

"I'm alright, mission just went a little sideways is all-"

Reaching up you cup his cheeks and smash your lips to his. He yelps against you, only waiting a second before kissing back, his hands frozen around your back.

You pull away, standing on your tiptoes, you kiss the words on his lips. "I love you, I've loved you for years. I'm sorry I never told you. I wanted to but I was scared. But I'm not scared now. I want you in my life forever,"

Leo's blue eyes goes wide, a smile stretching across his face. "I love you too,"

One of his hands slips into your hair, pulling you in for another passionate kiss.

Raph:

He sighs heavily, holding his shoulder, dropping his weapons half hazardly to the floor.

His eyes find your shaking form, his own going wide. "Y/n?"

You sob, rushing forward. "You're alive!" You jump into his arms, and he catches you, as he always does.

You sob into his shoulder, the one he wasn't holding, thankful to feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"Coure I'm alive," He chuckles, his hand rubbing up and down your back. "Ya think some stupid lackies can take me down?"

You pull back, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. More tears spill down your face, your hand cupping his face, your lips ghosting his.

"I thought I'd never see you again,"

"I'll never leave you,"

"Promise?"

"I promise, baby," He leans in, kissing you just as softly.

Donnie:

You're the first thing he notices.

"Y/n-" you both rush forward, leaping into each other's arms, your feet dangling off the ground.

"Donnie!" Tears spill down both of your faces, hands gripping and trying to find purchase around his shoulders.

With one hand Donnie unhooks his tools and weapons, the clatter to the floor, but he doesn't let you leave his arms.

"I didn't know if I'd ever see you again," You sob.

"I was too," He sighs. "There's something I have to tell you-"

You pull back, smashing your lips together. He wastes no time in kissing you back. Setting you down his hands tangle in your hair, titling your head up and back to meet his.

He pulls back for air, both your faces flushed.

"I love you," You both mumble at the same time, kissing again and again, long into the night.

Mikey:

"Anglecakes, what're you doing here?" His smile is tired, but his eyes shine seeing you.

"Ohmygod," You rush forward, his arms opening and pulling you tight to his chest.

"Ssshhhh, it's alright, anglecakes, I'm okay," His hands grab your thighs, hoisting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"I was so worried," You sob.

"Yeah....I was too," mikeys voice cracks, his shoulder shaking as he presses his head into your neck. "But I'm okay, we're all okay, and-"

"I love you,"

Mikey pulls back, blue eyes wide, staring into your own. "What?"

"I love you, I have since the moment I met you and I wanted to tell you early. I don't want to just be your friend Mikey, I want-"

"I love you too,"

You both chuckle quietly, smashing your lips together again.

tags: @thelaundrybitch @m1dnyt3-w0lf @happymoonangel @eveandtheturtles @strawberrycakeblog @miss-andromeda @sketchy-loo6195 @leosgirl82 @sharpwindow @mysticboombox

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cutielando · 28 days

Note

hi! i was wondering if you could write an imagine with jj x reader kinda based of the scene jb and sarah “marry” each other when they were on the boat

a/n: thank you so much for sending this in!❤️

my masterlist

Times were tough.

By this point in your life, you had gone through what other people never have to experience ever in their lives, let alone at such a young age.

You thought you would finally have some peace and quiet after Big John had come back. That things would finally have a sense of normality again.

But that was far from the case.

Ever since you head Big John’s plans to fine the mythical city of El Dorado and the gold, your blood had run cold in your veins.

You loved Big John, he was like a father figure to JJ and a protector to all of you, but this was taking it a step too far.

You had already put yourself in harm's way a number of times for your friends, giving your parents one too many reasons to completely disown you for the stress you would cause them.

Telling them that you were going to another continent to search for a city full of golf that might not even exist? They would murder you before you'd even get the words out of your mouth.

JJ, surprisingly, felt the same way.

He loved John B like a brother and saw Big John as his father figure, but even he could admit that the old man's tales sounded far too amazing to be a reality.

And, as much as he would want to go for the sake of his friends, he didn't want to take you with them, and he didn't want to leave you behind either. So, in his books, he couldn't possibly go with his friend and leave you unattended at home.

This sparked many conversations between you two, analyzing the situation and the spot you were in dozens of times. Searching desperately for an answer, for the universe to tell you what the right thing to do was.

But no answer ever came, so you were stuck trying to figure it out by yourselves.

"Are we being bad friends by wanting to stick back here?" you had asked JJ one night while the two of you were relaxing in the hammock installed in your backyard.

"We're just looking out for ourselves, like any sane person would. I don't want to put you in more unnecessary danger than I already have, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Plus, you heard what John B said, he doesn't want us to go with them" he explained, twirling locks of your hair around his finger.

You sighed, nodding into his chest.

He was right, nobody should be mad at you guys for thinking about your safety, for once. You were trying to become more responsible, and this was the first step that would help you do that.

"I'd like to go, as far as one would want to leave their life behind to go on a deadly quest for a city of gold that might not exist, but my parents would definitely murder me if I told them about it" you joked, making the both of you laugh.

"They would murder me first for letting you even think about it, let's be honest" he added, making you laugh even harder.

As funny as that was to the two of you in that moment, he was right. Your parents were counting on JJ to keep you safe when they weren't around, and even though he had done exactly that even in your adventures, they would prefer it if you didn't leave home like that ever again.

"Thank you for keeping me safe all this time" you said softly, turning around so you were face-to-face with your boyfriend.

He smiled cheekily, thinking of a witty comeback, but he gave up once he saw the look of completely love you were giving him.

"It's my job, and it's not like you didn't take care of me either. I would have gone insane on that island if it weren't for you. We protected each other, and we're always going to look out for one another no matter what happens" he kissed your forehead, pulling away to look at you.

The bond you two shared is something nobody could ever understand.

You met at a time when you were both in a dark place, but especially JJ, because of his father. You were the first person not to run away when he completely broke down into your arms, telling you about all of the things his father had done to him over the years.

There was not even a second when you contemplated leaving him, or giving up on him. You couldn't imagine living in a world where he wasn't yours, right by your side and ready to tackle anything life threw at him with you by his side.

He was truly your one and only, the person that you wanted to grow old with and have children with, the only man you could ever love in this life.

The realization hit you like a tsunami, making your brain stop functioning and having a mind of its own.

Which is why the next words that stumbled out of your mouth shocked the both of you to the core.

"Let's get married"

JJ thought he had heard you wrongly at first. Surely, you couldn't actually mean that you wanted to get married, right?

You were both so young, and you always spoke about how you wanted to wait until at least 20 years old to get married.

"What?" JJ asked, chuckling a little to ease the tension.

In any other case, you would be embarrassed to the ends of the Earth, just asking him to forget you'd ever said anything.

But right now, in this moment, you were more confident than ever in your words.

"I don't mean that we actually go and get married, not yet anyway. But just between us, something only we are going to know. Be unofficially officially married. We don't need rings, we can just tie pieces of the bandana you gave me on your first date around our necks or something as a sign of our commitment to each other" you explained quickly, getting excited and unwrapping the bandana you always kept on your arm.

JJ chuckled, watching you scramble to tear thin pieces of the bandana for the both of you.

He didn't want to admit, but he loved you more in that moment than he had ever before. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you, shout from the rooftops that you're his and only his. So how could he ever think to deny you?

"I would love nothing more than to marry you" he whispered, giving you a long kiss before taking the bandana and wrapping it around your neck, you doing the same to him.

The feeling that you had that night was like nothing you had ever experienced.

As you sat with JJ under the starry night, limbs intertwined and hushed promises and kisses exchanged, there was nowhere you would rather be.

In JJ's arms.

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recreationalfanfics · 1 year

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Hello! May I request some headcanons with Loki or Buddha with a deity!s/o who known for their protection over the forests but doesn’t blame humanity entirely for the loss of them? They don’t pin each forest fire on the humans when a drought or another cause is usually the culprit.

Loki:

- Honestly, it baffles Loki that you don't hold a grudge against humans because sometimes, they are just horrid little parasites.

- However you remind him the only reason why they do stuff like that is because of the punishment that the gods gave the humans.

- "It's quite simple, Loki. Gods destroy their homes. The humans cut down the wood to rebuild. And then their homes are destroyed again because of the gods. It's just how it is."

- He can tell that it hurts you, though. Many times he's found you sulk at the once grand and tall patches of forest and trees now being replaced with cement jungles and roads. The unspoken rage as you hold a bird whose wing was injured in the deforestation process of greedy humans, listening to its sad tweets and petting it as an attempt to comfort it.

- He may interfere with any God or human's plan that may hurt your forests. For example, if a drought where to occur because the gods believe the humans deserved it, Loki would casually incur Thor's wrath on purpose just so he made it rain. Yes, he'd sadly be helping those horrid humans live longer but at least your beloved nature would be saved.

- And he gets to set up Thor for the entire thing too!

- As for the more pathetic humans, the ones who wipe out dozens of forests to create more unnecessary cities and suburbs, Loki will bend the rules a bit and mess with their machines and mechanics.

- He'll proudly let you know what he's done with a smile on his face and want a little kiss on his cheek as a reward.

- He tries to play it off like he doesn't care about you, that he's just doing this in exchange of romantic favors, but it's kinda easy to see the only one he's convincing of that fact is himself.

- Sometimes natural disasters occur, things that can not be stopped, but that doesn't mean that you aren't any less sad.

- He never gets the hint and will try to tease you and annoy you a bit, thinking he's doing you a favor by trying to get it off your mind but then he just huffs and walks off. Giving up and leaving you alone, since you want to be boring and wallow.

- Just kidding! He just doesn't know how to comfort you, is all, but when he figures out a way; he will return. The chances of him verbally apologizing for pestering you are slim but he will show his remorse in other ways.

- Threatening any minor gods who cause any destruction to your forests because of their temper tantrums towards the mortals to regrow your trees. He doesn't care if their powers don't let them do that, he will literally give them a gardening book and with a creepy smile, say: "Then I'd start learning how to grow them! Or else..."

- Then he'll take all the credit as he shows you the semi-restored forest, yes it may be smaller than it used to be but it still warms your heart that he'd go to such lengths...Even though he technically didn't do it but you don't need to know that.

- Overall, Loki can understand being protective of something since he is a very possessive person, but he will secrely punish SOMEONE behind your back depending on the god and the context of the humans.

- However, if you find that he's wrongfully punished humans and get upset with him, he'll be upset with you and not speak to you until you realize he was just trying to help you protect your precious forests!

- Then he'll come crawling back, a pout on his face as he admits that he made it up to the stupid mortals who were innocent, only for it to be replaced by a smile as you kiss him and thank him for apologizing.

Buddha:

- OKAY BUT CONSIDERING HE FOUND ENLIGHTENMENT UNDER A BODHI TREE, he totally had a certain respect for you already and your dedication to protecting the forests.

- And that respect honestly went up even more when he learned that you don't simply blame humans each time their is a tragic destruction, after all, even before them: forest fires and other unforseen circumstances of nature would occur unfortunately.

- Likes to go on walks through forests with you, always being careful to make sure whatever wrappings he has on him from his snacks don't fall to the ground and always silently picking them up.

- He honestly loves the forests just as much as you do, not gonna lie. But if there's a specific forest that you like or call home, you can expect to find him there most of the time.

- Like you come back after having to defend and heal some of the surviving trees from another tragedy recover but once you see him softly snoring under a tree you both considered your favorite, you smile lovingly and join him, causing him to stir a little and wrap an arm around your shoulder.

- But yeah, he honestly applauds you for being so understanding and not blaming the humans all willy nilly, it's sad that the rest of the gods couldn't be as understand towards the humans as you are when it comes to these things but he's glad at the very least that you are.

- He also may be chill but like, if there are humans who end up destroying your forests for their own selfish gain then he wouldn't tell anyone if you decided to, like, pay them back just a little bit.

- If another God were responsible for the destruction of your trees, he will make sure that you receive proper apologies and that there will be repercussions.

- And if anyone has a problem with that, they can take that up with him.

- Honestly loves to help you take care of your forests if you'd let him, he'll need a bit of direction but he enjoys being around nature and he enjoys being around you.

- He may need a bit of direction, he may even make a few little mistakes just so you could come over and correct him and have an excuse to be close to you.

- Like, he'll accidentally be all: "Uh, how do you trim their branches?" and you smile and walk over to him as you come from behind him and put your arms around his, helping him navigate the scissors with your hands.

- Yeah, it may sound a bit childish but at the end of the day, he isn't ashamed with it as he's all: "It's gonna take me a while to learn this, (Y/n). You might need to teach me a few more times."

- You simply roll your eyes, recognizing his tone being a playfull one but kissing his cheek and smiling: "Then I will teach you for as long as it takes♡"

- HE WILL COMFORT YOU WHEN YOU GET UPSET, HONESTLY. Like you suffered a devastating lost because of a horrible natural accident that was no one's fault, but yet you blamed yourself. He will hold your face and tell you straight up you've done all you could do.

#SORRY IF THESE ARE KINDA OOC #BHT THANK YOU FKR UR REQUEST THESE TWL ARE JUST STUCK IN MY MIND NGL-#ror loki x reader #ror buddha x reader #snv buddha x reader #buddha x reader snv #buddha #snv loki x reader #snv loki #ror loki #loki #loki x mobius #buddha x reader #buddha x you #ror x reader #snv x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader

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bougiebutchbitch · 6 months

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I have to ask. I'm not that far into watching House MD but my god these bitches are gay. My question is, what is the context here for the piss kink? Like is that. Really canon. If you have the time I'd love to hear an explanation of evidence

Good morning, babes, bros, and nonbinary hos of the jury.

Firstly, welcome to Queerbait, The Show, The Musical, The Original. I hope you enjoy your stay in Gay Doctorland.

Now, if I might move onto the first item of evidence: EXHIBIT A.

Aka, the classic House MD drinking game of 'take a shot eevry time House and Wilson have a drawn-out discussion while standing next to each other, pissing, at the urinals'

Now EXHIBIT B: a certain episode where House's drug use starts to affect his kidneys, causing urinary retention. How does Wilson react when House finally comes to him with big sad eyes, pleading for help? Well, obviously he smirks and delights in House's pee-holding agony, refusing to give him any diuretics because he wants to teach House a 'lesson' about drug abuse in a typically Housian fucked up and kinda dangerous way because he figures hey, it's omorashi time

Later the same episode, we have House dreaming of pissing himself in front of his colleagues and wetting the bed, which is shown to be a massive, euphoric relief & release.... Love that for my gay bitchy doctor. Love it.

AND LEST I FORGET, the self-catheterisation scene where House lubes up a catheter, slides it into himself, and makes the most wretched little moans.... Hugh Laurie acted his tight little butt off to give us a cranky old doctor keening softly as he feeds a catheter into his dick, and honestly, we're all grateful.

FINALLY we come to EXHIBIT C: the episode where House and Wilson encourage a patient's partner to drink her piss while they just. Sit there. And watch. Just medical malpractice boyfriends doing medical malpractice boyfriend things xxx

Doubtlessly, there are another dozen or so Incidents that I forgot - but suffice to say, folks of the jury, I think you will find this evidence satisfactory.

#house md #hate crimes md #piss kink md #hilson #gregory house #james wilson #I love this stupid show

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drdemonprince · 6 months

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Hey, I just wanted to thank you for your honesty and willingness to explain how queer spaces can be a lot less transphobic than discourse within the trans community can make it seem. A lot of the past few years for me have been spent closeted out of fear that reactions around me would be uniformly hostile. Things are obviously going to be different for me as a transfem, but I have a much easier time being optimistic now!

I am so glad! Listen, the people who post online all the time about how miserably hard it is to find a place for oneself as a trans person create a kind of reverse survivorship bias. They are the people who have already convinced themselves it's best to forever remain closeted or that forging any kind of accepting community for oneself is impossible. Often, they are also people who once harbored unrealistic fantasies about just strolling up one day into a pre-existing community that was perfect for them, not realizing that we must form our relationships painstakingly one by one (it tends to be the white eggs/unhappy lonely trans people who are most prone to thinking of community in that way). there's plenty of trans guys who are doomers like this too and they really tend to actively encourage one another to remain locked away. it's like incel kind of behavior when it's taken to its most extreme form. sometimes, it can be outwardly really nasty homophobic shit too (especially among "afabs" who complain about "cis gays" never accepting them and being super privileged). in its milder form, it's just extreme trauma brain.

The people you do not hear from so much are the people who are busy out in the world going on dates, acting in plays, getting their asses spanked in dungeons, playing tabletop roleplaying games, and going to farmer's markets with their three also transgender wives. Those are the people who know (that is to say, have learned!) how to interact with their fellow queer people, have spent some time out in the community, and in all likelihood have many rich friendships with cis lesbians, cis gay men, enbies, asexuals, bisexuals, straight ish poly people, and everybody else under our big umbrella.

I don't want to be overly pollyannaish because of course trans people have a tough time, and especially trans women have unfortunately to be on the lookout for really vile transmisogyny. But I think when people are wounded and traumatized by these things, they sometimes make the entire world sound incredibly unwelcoming, which creates a self-limiting feedback loop of isolation and mistrust. That is what trauma does! But it is not the truth. and we only learn otherwise when we give other people the chance to prove our worst fears wrong.

Like, just for an example, this Sunday I was at a silent book club at Dorothy, a gay bar on the west side that skews lesbian but is for everyone. I'd never been there before but it was an absolutely charming experience! Dozens upon dozens of lesbians draped over couches and curled up in chairs with their books, quaffing cocktails, alongside a few random dots of gay and/or trans men. Trans women were just a natural completely unremarkable feature of this environment. I couldn't even tell you how many t girls were there. It would be like counting plus sized girls or butches at this lesbian function. If it's a good lesbian function, there's gonna be a diverse crowd and it won't be weird or a big deal to anyone, they'll just be like any other women there. a lot of the big lesbian events here in Chicago (like Strapped) are organized by trans women, so of course there's a robust trans femme presence there.

And all of these groups at this function were getting laid. the couches were overflowing with women, so many that girls were grabbing pillows to sit on and huddle together with their books on the floor. Girls canoodled and cuddled on couches. I saw a cis alt girl covered in facial piercings flirting with a very prim and proper trans girl who was dressed like a victorian governness. they didnt know one another, but after the silent book club hour was done, they left for a while together, then came back with some food. across from me and my friends, i watched them gathering up on the couch, the space between their bodies slowly closing up into nothing over the course of the evening. they flirted and touched and then left the bar together to (and im no expert on body language but i could pick up on this one) fuck eachothers tits right off.

and of course plenty of other lesbians and wlw paired off or tripled off and had their fun too. again, just like steamworks, fat people, thin people, black and brown people, white people, disabled people, neurodivergent people, trans people, older people, younger people, everybody was there. like any good queer space, it was just a reflection of humanity. there is always more that can be done to make these spaces more broadly accessible to full community. but part of that is by putting ourselves there.

again i dont mean to make it sound like finding and making one's space is easy! especially not for trans women! but I also don't want people to get seduced by the hopeless jadedness that some foment online. there are spaces that some trans women I know will never go to -- even an explicitly trans affirming bookstore like Women and Children First gives many trans women I know bad vibes they cant quite explain but all feel (the store is owned and run by old white cis lesbians, it's not surprising to me that it's a little fucked no matter their good intentions) -- and ive heard people say transmisogynistic stuff at events, particularly from "ill date anybody but cis men" type t boys (my brothers, i hate you). shit can be tough. very tough. but also, the world isn't all uniformly as hostile as it's made out to be. there are people who are desperate to meet you. I hope you will come out to find them.

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someoneinjersey · 19 days

Text

re: jon bernthal

I like him. I support him. Are there things about him I don't agree with? Sure. But I possess the critical thinking skills to be able to think about someone else's perspective.

He's a Jewish man. I'm sure the decision for him to support Israel (if he does, I haven't seen any definitive evidence except that he had an Israeli soldier on his podcast at some point) comes from a really complicated place. One of my closest friends from 5th grade to graduation is Jewish. Her parents even met at a kibbutz. She works for an organization to help Jewish people in America take trips to Israel. While her FB is private (and I left FB a long time ago), I wouldn't doubt for a second she supports Israel. But she was always one of the kindest and most generous people I ever knew, and I don't think she'd support anything blindly. I think Jewish people in the US are in a really rough spot right now and we need to recognize that as much as we recognize that the country of Israel is committing genocide. It's not as black and white for them as we non-Jewish folks want it to be.

Jon gave a domestic abuser a platform on his podcast. Yeah. A guy who he was friends with who was terrible and went through rehab and therapy and came out with a different perspective. I personally don't like that actor but I didn't enjoy him much after Transformers anyway. If we're close to someone and they do something bad, we usually give them a second chance, maybe more. We're supposed to support growth and change especially with those close to us. In my own life I still spoke to my abusive father for a time after my parents divorced and was at his bedside the day he passed. Another person close to me was accused of SA but I'd known them their whole life and couldn't fathom it being true so I stood by them. That's just life. Life is so fucking complicated.

Jon supports the police and the military. Of course he does, most of the country does and he's played a cop/detective/soldier like a dozen times in his career and spent a ton of time with them to learn about the jobs and the cultures within them. I'm pretty sure that's the first thing people got on his ass for -- not being all ACAB from the start and then later featuring police on his podcast etc. AGAIN, when you KNOW people, it's a lot harder to draw those black and white lines. I'm for defunding the police and reallocating the money for more productive services, I'm against police violence, I'm against the mass incarceration of minorities for minor infractions, I'm against prison slavery, all that shit, and I hate that stupid "thin blue line" nonsense. But I'm not gonna go up to every cop I know and tell them they're a piece of shit. I'm not gonna NOT call the cops when the local addicts go on a B&E spree to steal shit to pay their dealers (true story, we only didn't get robbed because someone is always home).

PLEASE fucking think critically and PLEASE realize that not everything is black and white and PLEASE let people enjoy shit that brings them happiness in this shitty fucking world.

And I'm not looking for arguments or debates on this, thanks.

#jon bernthal

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