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lisacameron99 · 5 months ago

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Revelation S.R.

Summary: based on the Criminal Minds episode Revelation (2x15)

Y/N Hotcher (Little Hotch) x eventual Spencer Reid

Warnings: angst, Spencer being tortured, Tobias Henkel, usual Criminal Minds stuff?, swearing, reader/I being really angry at the world because she loves Spencer but won't admit it, friends to lovers, emotions, idk if I am missing anything

LONG AF AND NOT PROOFED

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where’s Spencer?” I asked, looking around the farm. “And JJ?”

“I don’t know, come check out the barn with me and Prentiss.” Morgan told me. We made our way to the barn and when we opened it, JJ pointed her gun at us, eyes wild.

There was a lot of commotion with trying to get JJ to lower her gun. I noticed the dead dogs. Jezebel. Oh God.

“Tobias Henkel is the unsub.” JJ told us once she realized it was us.

“We know,” I said gently.

“We just thought he was a witness. I had to kill them.” She said referring to the dogs. I glanced at the dead animals again and rubbed my temples. “There’s nothing left.”

“JJ, where’s Spencer?” I asked her but she didn’t answer me.

“JJ, look at me,” Prentiss prompted. JJ focused on her. “Where’s Reid?”

“Oh, uh, we split up. He went around back.”

I ran back outside to tell Dad and Gideon that we found JJ but not Spencer.

"Dad,” I called, running up to him. “Dad, JJ was in the barn, but Spencer’s not.”

“We searched the rest of the property and the house and he’s not there either. Neither is Henkel.”

“So,” I gulped, looking at my dad. “So where’s Spencer?”

“I don’t know. But we will find him.” Dad promised me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was standing with JJ and Emily by the ambulance while they checked JJ out.

“Hey, any sign of him?” Prentiss asked Morgan and he shook his head.

"You can't find Reid?" JJ asked, confused.

"Not yet," Prentiss told her.

"Prentis, Little Hotch." Derek pulled us away from JJ. "I think Reid followed him into the cornfield, it looks likes somebody got dragged." I rubbed my temple, trying to push away the stress migraine that was impounding.

"Hey, what's going on?" Prentiss asked the officer who just got off the phone.

"The sheriff two towns over. He just gave directions to a man who fit Henkel's description. It's to a motor lodge in Fort Bend."

"Let's get Hotch and Gideon." Morgan said and I went back to JJ.

After hours of not finding Spencer, morning came which brought Penelope too.

"You know they do have hotels in Georgia." She told me and Aaron.

"There's no sense splitting time between here and a field office." He told her, ushering her into the house.

"Right." She agreed warily, looking around the property.

"Think of the house as a witness," He explained to her. "If it could talk, what would it tell us?"

"My guess is it would tell us to get the hell out." She responded.

We made our wait into the main living room and JJ greeted Penelope with, "Welcome to our nightmare."

"His computer is an extension of his brain," Gideon told her. "I need you to dissect it."

"I'll get you set up, come on." Derek told her, taking her to where the computers were at.

"I'll come with," I mumbled, walking past my dad and everybody else, to go with Penelope and Morgan.

The rest of our team filled Dad in on everything, but there was no evidence pointing where Spencer and the unsub could be.

"Okay, right out the gate, the guy is self taught." Penelope told us. "His mainframe is totally idiosyncratic, but it's pretty brilliant."

"Talk to me about what this son of a bitch watches online. What the hell is all of this?" Morgan told her, trying his best to figure out the computers and how we could use it to help us know Henkel better.

"It's tame stuff, video games, software sports. Seriously, if I had to guess whose system this belongs to, I would say a crazy smart high school kid."

"Well clearly it's not Penelope. Can you please find us something that will help us find Spencer?" I snapped before walking out the room and back outside.

I hated this. How could Spencer have gotten so far away so fast? Where the hell was he being held? Please God, I begged, please bring him back to me. Please. I hadn't prayed in years, especially with my mom and dad fighting, but I knew we had a slim chance at getting Spencer back, and God was probably the only person to bring him to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey guys!" Morgan called to us, I looked up at him from where I was sitting with Gideon on the steps. "I think I got something."

I ran over to where he was and he found a cellar.

I pulled out my gun as Morgan opened the door. "Tobias Henkel, FBI!" Dad and I followed him inside. We got our flashlights out and searched the ice cellar. "Tobias Henkel! Tobias!"

Dad moved closer to the unmoving body. "I think we just found Henkel's father." Well, shit.

We made our way out of the cellar and let CSI do their thing while we went back into the house.

"You need to get some sleep." Gideon told me and I rolled my eyes. "Sometimes it felt like I had two dads between Hotch and Gideon.

"I'm fine."

"When was the last time you slept?" JJ asked me.

"When was the last time for you?" I snapped back, my anger seeping through. I wanted to find Spencer. I wanted him back.

"Y/N, you need to get some sleep." Dad told me and I stomped my foot.

"Is that an order?" I demanded, looking my dad square in the face.

"Yeah, it is." He shot back and I threw my gun on the table, making JJ jump at the noise. I went into the living room and grabbed my blanket and my dad's pillow from the corner and laid on the floor to take a nap. There was no way in hell I was sleeping on any of the furniture here. After a few minutes, I felt JJ come sit by me, resting her back against the couch.

"I'm sorry." She muttered.

"I'm sorry too." I muttered back.

"I'm so stressed out that I can't sleep." She admitted after a few minutes.

"I can't either. I just want to find him." I relented.

"I saw you guys, at the club. You danced."

"Liquid courage fixes a lot of the world's problems. Sometimes."

"You guys would be cute together."

"You must be sleep deprived."

"I know what I saw at the club. You both like each other, you're practically dating anyways, why not just make it official?" And with that thought running through my brain, I fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Morgan just told me that he thinks the stressor is the father's death, which happened about six months ago." Dad told me and Gideon as we sifted through the papers.

"So basically he has split personality disorder?" I banged my head on the table.

"This journal is filled with religious ramblings." Morgan told us, coming into the room with the journal. "He notates hour by hour. November 15th, 3:17 - if ye offer a sacrifice of peace offering unto the Lord, ye shall offer it at your own will. And it goes on and on. 5:04, 7:41, 10:22, 1:42. But then it goes blank for days."

Morgan handed me the journal and I looked at it, getting a sense of who Henkel was. Dad put a hand on his head, thinking. "Maybe he got sick of writin'," The sheriff suggested.

"I think I got it," Dad said, and I looked at him hopefully.

"What is it?" Gideon asked him.

"Yeah, Dad, what did you figure out?"

"Journal entry - December 6th - father sick, wants me to put him down. I say, "Thou shalt not kill," He says, "Honor thy father." Must pray for guidance." Oh. So he killed his dad...

Before I could finish my thought, Gideon interrupted. "So he kills his father as an act of mercy?"

"Some sick sort of mercy." I muttered, flipping through the journal in my hand before giving it back to Morgan.

"This is two months ago. Tobias Henkel's father had been dead for four months already." Dad told us.

"That's exactly it. Look at the floor," Morgan told us, pulling a chair out for us to see. "These scuff marks are fresh." He was right, they were. "I mean it's like two people were moving the chairs constantly, trying to fight for control."

"So?" The sheriff asked.

"This journal matches Charles Henkel's handwriting, but it was written after he died. Upstairs, Tobias' bedroom - it's got junk puled from the floor to the ceiling, but the other bedroom could pass a military inspection." Morgan explained.

"So are you telling me, one of Tobias' personalities was his father?" The sheriff asked, trying to make sense of this situation.

"Well," Gideon put in, "Tobias was raised with a strict religious code - black and white - right and wrong. When his father asked Tobias to kill him, something had to give."

"And his brain couldn't handle the moral contradiction, so it split into two personalities." Dad said.

"To keep his father alive." I finished.

"So... who is Raphael?" The sheriff asked, confused.

"My guess - he's a mediator between the two. Angels have no human emotions. Live or die, they don't care, as long as it's God's will."

"We need to start profiling Tobias' father. He may be the one who chose where to take Reid."

"I'll get Penelope on it." I said, standing up and walking to the computer room.

"Pen, I need you to log into the system as Tobias' father."

"The system was set up three months ago. The dad was already dead."

"She knows that, smarty pants, but do it for your favorites anyway, alright?" Morgan said, coming in behind me.

"Okay," Penelope said, starting to type.

"Charles Henkel." Derek told her.

Tons of horrifying imagines and videos showed up on the screen. I closed my eyes and cracked my neck. This was going to be bad.

"Woah," Penelope said trying to take it all in.

"He's crazy." I mumbled. "Like crazy crazy. I can't imagine having split personalities, let alone, one of them be insane."

After a few minutes of Penelope trying to do her thing, the computers went blank.

"What happened?" Morgan asked her, confused.

She wasn't much help because she was equally confused. "I don't know?"

"What do you mean, you don't know?" I demanded, scared.

All of a sudden on most of the screens, Spencer showed up. He was bound to a chair beaten and bloodied.

"Oh my god." Penelope said, taking the words straight from my mouth.

"Guys! Guys!" Morgan shouted to the team. "Get in here!"

"He's been beaten." Prentiss said, assessing him.

"Can't you track him?" JJ asked, confused. I put a hand over my mouth, trying to remain composed.

"Henkel's only streaming this to his home computer." Penelope told them.

"This is for us, for Y/N, he knows we're here."

"I'm gonna put this guy's head on a stick." Morgan spat, angry.

"Why can't you locate him?" Dad asked Penelope.

"He's rerouting to a different I.P Address every thirty seconds. I can't track him."

"Can you really see inside men's minds?" Tobias asked Spencer. "See these vermin. Choose one to die. I'll let you choose one to live."

"No," I gasped at Spencer'svoice.

"I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior." Tobias said.

"You're a sadist ina psychotic break. You won't stop killing. Your word's not true." Spencer told him, trying to snap him out of the personality he was in. Tobias was either Raphael or his father at the moment.

"The other heathens are watching. That whore of yours, she's watching. Choose a sinner to die, and I'll say the name and address of the person to be saved."

"I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like poacher." Playing into the fantasy. Good job, Spence, I thought.

"Can you really see into my mind, boy?" Tobias demanded lifting Spencer out of the chair. I gasped audibly, grabbing onto Gideon's arm. "Can you see I'm not a liar?" He yelled. "Choose one to die, and save a life. Otherwise, they're all dead."

"Alright," Spencer gave in, not wanting more people than necessary to die. "I'll choose who lives."

"They're all the same." Tobias spat at him.

"Far right screen." Spencer finally said.

"Marilyn David, 4913 Walnut Creed Road." Tobias said.

"You got that?" Dad asked Penelope.

"Yeah." She said, typing her fastest on the computer.

Gideon typed the phone number on a phone and it dialed.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end said.

"Marilyn David. My name is Jason Gideon. I'm with the FBI."

"What?" She said alarmed, Gideon told her to turn her computer off immediately and she did so.

"You're Raphael." Spencer said. Before anything else could happen, the screen went dark. Morgan walked out of the room, angry, and punched the door. I gripped JJ's hand hard, needing the contact to stay grounded.

"So now what? We wait for a 911 call, and hope we get there in time?" The sheriff asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the next victims were killed, Dad, Gideon and I went to the crime scene.

"Slaughtered, same as the others. We've got roadblocks for a fifteen mile radius. Every unit's on the road, but so far nothing." I pushed the stray hairs out of my face and looked at the crime scene.

"I don't know how much longer Reid can hold out," Dad said quietly, giving in to his fear that Spencer might not make it.

"Who were the victims?" Gideon asked, ignoring Dad.

"Pam and Mike Hayes. He was a local defense attorney."

"And what Bible passage was left?" Gideon asked another question. I went and stood next to him.

"Isaiah 59. No one calls for justice, "no one pleads their case with integrity. They rely on empty arguments, they utter lies they conceive trouble and give birth to evil."

Gideon got close to the camera, "Reid, if you're watching, you're not responsible for this. You understand me? He's perverting God to justify murder. You are strong than him. He cannot break you."

"We're not getting any closer." Dad told us.

"Reid's brilliant. He'll figure out how to survive." Gideon said, trying to reassure us, himself included.

"You know, I always take advantage of Reid for his brain, but I never actually teach him how to deal with things emotionally."

"Lead by example." Gideon responded.

"What kind of example is that?" Dad asked.

"He'll make it."

"He has to." I whispered. "He has to make it." God, I prayed. Bring him back to me. Please just bring him back to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We can trace their whole family history." Morgan said, looking at the evidence board we made up. "Here we got happy, smiling pictures of Tobias. Report cards all As and Bs, but as an eight year old, we get nothing."

"That's his mother leaving." Prentiss said from her spot next to me. "Six months later, on the other side of the board, we have a form from child services saying they paid a visit."

"Then Charles starts keeping journals about punishing sinners and needing to remove the devil from his son." I added. "Which corresponds to Tobias' drug use. He's trying to escape."

"So wherever Reid is, it was Tobias' choice, not this fathers." Morgan told us.

"How do you figure?" Prentiss asked him.

"Look at these two lives." Morgan pointed out. "They're like inverse graphs. One's getting weaker while the other one's getting angrier. Tobias would run away, his father would have stood and fought."

"Okay, so Tobias uses drugs as an escape. I'll go back through the journals with Y/N and see if we can find anything connecting his drug use to a hiding place."

"Uh, where's Gideon?" JJ asked walking into the room.

"He's upstairs. Why? What's going on?" Morgan asked her. JJ glanced at me before responding.

"Henkel's jut posted the latest murder."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We all gathered in the computer room to watch. It was horrific. Absolutely horrific. In everyway imaginable.

"I don't understand, why can't we just shut it down?" Gideon asked, pacing, confused by technology.

"Because I can't pinpoint his IPF." Penelope tried to explain.

"Just remove it once he sends it." Jason told her.

"It doesn't work like that." I said. "It's the internet."

"It's the internet, sir. Like Y/N said. Once something's out there, you can never take it back."

"It must remain. You can't undo anything."

"Right, you can't once it's up. Once it's up, it's up forever."

"I hate technology. Can you please do something? Anything? I do not want him thinking he has a pulpit."

"I have a list of everyone from the file-sharing chain. I could send out a mass warning that the video is actually a virus. I'm gonna do that. Okay." Penelope sent it out.

After a few moments, Tobias, as Charles, started streaming live again. "Do you think you can defy me?" Tobias said.

"I don't know what he's talking about." Spencer pleaded with him.

"You're a liar! You're pitiful! Just like my son. This ends now." I gasped when he pulled the gun on Spencer. "Confess your sins. Confess!" He hit Spencer in the face, making me cry out.

"I haven't don anything! Tobias, help me!" Spencer begged. I covered my mouth, tears streaming down my face.

"He can't help you. He's weak." Tobias, as Charles, said to him.

"Tobias!" Spencer cried.

"Confess your sins!" Tobias, as Charles, demanded again.

"Help!"

"Oh my god. He's killing him." Penelope said. I put the other hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my cries as Spencer started choking and the chair toppled over with him in it. He was dying. Actually dying.

Gideon stormed out and Dad, Prentiss, JJ and Morgan raced in. I hugged Dad tightly as Penelope explained what happened. Dad pulled away and went to get Gideon. I continued to silently cry. God, please, please save him. Let him come back to me. Please. I kept praying it over and over in my head, hoping He was listening.

Tobias came back into the room and started performing CPR on Spencer. Eventually after a few rounds, Spencer started coughing and breathing. I let out a strangled cry before clamping my mouth shut.

"Wait, wait a second." Prentiss said. "When was the last video posted?"

"9:23." Penelope responded.

"And - and what was the time of death?" She asked.

"The 911 call came in at 9:04 and the murder must have been moments later." Dad told her.

"That's only a 19 minute difference!" I said, looking over at JJ who nodded.

"How long would it take to post the mpeg?" Morgan asked Penelope.

"Two or three minutes." Penelope mumbled, guessing.

"Let's call it two." Morgan said.

"You figure a maximum of 60 miles an hour in a residential area." I piped up again. "That means Henkel has to be within a seventeen mile radius of the crime scene."

"Garcia, can we see it on a map?" Dad asked her and she did what he asked and pulled it up on the computer.

"Call Farrady." Gideon said. "I want that area locked down like it's martial law." JJ got up to go call him.

"Guys."

"You came back to life." Tobias said as Raphael.

"Raphael." Spencer said.

"There can only be one of two reasons." He declared.

"I was given CPR." Always with the science.

"There are no accidents. How many members are on your team?" Tobias, as Raphael, asked.

"Excluding me, seven."

"The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown down to earth."

"He thinks it's Revelation. The seven archangels versus the seven angels of death." Dad said, understanding the unsub.

"Tell me who you serve." Tobias, as Raphael, demanded. Pulling Spencer up to sitting.

"I serve you." Spencer croaked.

"Then choose one to die." My eyes widened in fear.

"What?" Spencer asked, confused, trying to stall and come up for time.

"Your team members - choose one to die." He repeated himself.

"Kill me." Spencer pleaded. What?

"You said you weren't one of them." He reminded Spencer.

"I lied."

"Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies!"

"No!" I grabbed Dad's arm in a panic when he pulled a gun on Spencer. Dear God, please save him. Please save him. Please. Please Please.

He rolled the chamber of the gun. "Choose, and prove you'll do God's will."

"No." He clicked the gun. Dad used his free hand to cover his mouth.

"Choose." Tobias, as Raphael, demanded.

"I won't do it." Spencer told him, looking him square in the face. He shot again, but no bullet came out.

"Life is a choice."

"No." The gun clicked again. No bullet.

"Choose."

"I... I choose Aaron Hotchner." There was a moment of relief before Spencer started talking. "He's a classic narcissist. He think's he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4. "Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense. In emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense."

Tobias, as Raphael, took the bullet out of the camber. "For God's will." and put it back in and spun it.

We all walked out into the main room. "I'm not a narcissist." Dad said.

I looked at Gideon and then my dad. "Come on. Look. You can't take anything from that. He's not in his right mind, Hotch."

"Dad, he's trying to live." I pointed out.

"No. Stop. Stop." Dad said. "Alright, everybody right now - what's my worst quality?" Nobody said anything. "Okay, I'll start. I have no sense of humor."

"You're a bully." JJ said, referring to how he treats unsubs.

"I'm a bully," He agreed.

"You can be a drill sergeant sometimes." Morgan said.

"Right." Dad agreed.

"You don't trust women as much as men." Prentiss said.

Dad looked at me to say something but I shook my had. I wasn't going to say anything back about my dad.

"Okay, good." He relented. "I'm all of these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't ever."

"You don't, Dad." I agreed with him. Not sure where he was going with this, I indulged him nevertheless.

"I don't. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that. And he also quoted Genesis chapter 23 verse 4." He picked up one of the many Bibles around the house and handed it to me. "Read it."

"I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may burry my dead out of my sight." I read from the Bible.

"He wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose." Dad scoffed, knowing that Spencer tricked Tobias/Charles/Raphael.

"He's in a cemetery." Morgan concluded.

"I don't see a cemetery." Prentiss said, looking a the map on Penelope's screen.

"Call up the first time we saw Reid." Gideon thought aloud. Penelope did what he asked. "I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher."

"Check to see if there's any poaching in the last couple days." I demanded, pacing back and forth in the back of the room.

"Okay, uh." Penelope typed as fast as she could. "A farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property."

"Where are we talking?" Morgan asked. She pulled it up on the map.

"What's that patch of green there?" JJ asked her.

I moved closer to the computer, wedging myself between Dad and Gideon.

"Marshall Parish. I think that it's an old plantation." Dad said.

"Wait." Prentiss said.

"Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from the Marshall." My brain rapid fired.

"Guy's there's a cemetery on the grounds." Penelope told us.

We all rushed to the vehicles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Spread out! They have to be on foot! Let's go!"

"Spencer!" I screamed. "Spencer! Spencer!" I screamed when I heard the gun shot. I ran towards the noise, everybody else right with me.

"You alright?" Dad asked Spencer after getting him on his feet. I stared at him blankly. He was here. He was alive. He was here.

"I knew you'd understand." He told Dad, hugging him before moving on to JJ.

"I am so sorry." She told him. I put my hands on my face and tried to remain calm. He was alive. He was alive. Thank you God. Thank you for bringing him back to me. Thank you.

"It's alright. It wasn't your fault."

"Let's get you out of here." Gideon said, reaching for Spencer. Spencer pushed away from him and into my arms. I burst into tears.

"I'm okay, you saved me." He mumbled into my hair. "I'm okay."

I clutched to him, holding onto him tightly. “Please don’t leave me again.” I begged. “Please.” I bagged my hands in his shirt.

“I won’t. I’m okay.” He repeated pulling away after a few minutes.

“Okay, let’s get you to an ambulance.” Gideon said again.

“Please - can I have a minutes alone?” Spencer asked.

“I’m not leaving you again.” I clutched his hand.

“I’ll just be a minute.” He squeezed. “Okay? Just a minute.”

Gideon pulled me away from Spencer, giving him a minute.

When Spencer caught back up to us, I held his hand again.

“Please don’t leave me.” I begged as we got to the ambulance.

“I won’t, I won’t leave you.” He promised me sitting in the back of the bus. I leaned my head on his shoulder, sighing at the nightmare this case was.

Part 2 coming soon!

#spencer reid x oc fanfiction #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer Reid x reader angst #spencer Reid imagine angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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ask-the-nine-links · 1 year ago

Note

Yeah guilty that was exactly the alternate timeline I was talking about. How it happened for alternate wild is even weirder. Apparently about 80 years into the shrine's healing the Shrine has to open a micro portal into the afterlife to draw out some energy to tie the soul back to the body. But in this timeline there was something on the other side, the remains of a clone of a half ghost.

Turns out the afterlife has heroes too, and the afterlife's hero version of Ganondorf is a crazy son of a bitch. But anyway since magic doesn't exist in the afterlife he had to manually make his version of the hero with SCIENCE! You know what a blueprint is, apparently there's a blueprint for people and if you extract it and copy it you can build a exact copy of a person from the ground up. Well like usual the hero stops the plot but just dumps the resulting corpse of green goo into a random corner of the afterlife because the kid is like 14 and was busy with his new 12 year old looking little sister created from the mess and didn't have time to figure out how to properly dispose of it

Anyway when the clone goo got into the shrine alternate and wild just kind of exorbed it given that while in the shrine he was kind of stuck in a state between alive and dead just like the hero it was made from so Wild became a half ghost. Alternate Wild was basically incredibly overpowered his only real weakness was guardian beams and that's only because that's how he died before everything else could just turn intangible and let it pass through him harmlessly (and even then guardians themselves are no threat because so long as he's invisible they don't notice him but he can freely rip out their innards with intangibility and super strength he just has to be careful and avoid touching the parts corrupted by malice because it would make him sick). His favorite hobby was to mess with the Yiga by not bothering to even pay attention to them when they tried to attack him accept maybe to laugh in their face.

It's really hard to kill ghost okay, especially when you don't have the tools for it. The most issues alternate wild had was trying to figure out what his changed biology needed. Thankfully in after a while The ghost guardian of the timeline notices alternate wild's struggles and has the afterlife's hero go over to him and give how to ghost lessons. It's a really fun alternate timeline to watch and I really can't wait till the other links meet this version of wild

Wind: Ew, reading.

Legend: You can read?

Wind: Okay, first off-

Wild: TLDR; Shrine of Resurrection uses power from the afterlife. Ganondorf is still a bitch in hell, and tries to create goo clones using science. Dead hero kills him again and dumps a pile of goo in a corner somewhere because he has other Responsibilities™. Goo gets absorbed by the Shrine, therefore Alternate me also absorbs it. Alternate me basically becomes unkillable with his only weakness being the Walking Urns of Death, but even then its a mild one. The Yiga become haunted. Alternate me also gets lessons from a ghost.

Wind: My hero, thank you for the summary.

Wild: Not gonna lie, that does sound incredibly fun. Think of all the stuff I could do to the Yiga!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu wind #lu legend #lu wild

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thegreencanary · 2 years ago

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Hi friend! Would it be okay if I requested something with Billy Hargrove x reader (his girlfriend) where she shows up at his house but for whatever reason he isn't home yet so Neil invites her in and starts pressuring her to drink with him? Billy comes back at some point and sees her passed out there. Hella angsty pls :')

Okay I love this and I may have gotten a little carried away. It’s pretty intense …. Sorrrrryyyyy but not really

A/N: This is my work and I don’t give anyone the permission to post it anywhere claiming to be someone else’s. I worked hard on this, if you enjoy it please interact. Requests are open.

TW: Abuse, Alcohol abuse, forcing someone to drink, cursing, assault

MINORS DNI this is some wild stuff. Don’t spoil your preciousness or I’ll tell Steve.

You’re Safe with Me

“Leave it to my son to date a bitchy prude.”

Neil Hargrove had been making comments like that to you for the last thirty minutes. You’d gone over to visit your boyfriend and surprise him with the good news that you got a new car. Neil answered the door and drunkenly explained that Billy was out picking Max up from El’s house (Neil wasn’t nearly that polite about it but you figured out what he was saying.) You insisted on coming back later but Neil scared the shit out of you and he was aggressively telling you to stay and wait for Billy at the house. Now, you found yourself trying to not piss off Billy’s abusive father while he offered you drink, after drink, after drink, after drink. The last comment got under your skin, you never thought of yourself as a bitch or a prude and you huffed in response. That was not the right thing to do around Neil.

“You have something to say bitch? No? Then drink the fuck up. Now!”

Neil punched the wall next to you HARD, hard enough to make you jump and shrink into yourself. Knowing he had no issues with throwing Billy around you got scared and took a drink. A twisted smile worked its way onto Neils face and you sat in silence. He was droning on about Susan and Max and how great his new life was with those two in it. You hated Susan for letting everything go on in the house, she never protected her kids. Billy fell in love with you because you did, you protected him from the depression, the bad thoughts and the hurtful things he would do to self destruct. You looked at Max like your own little sister; she spent a lot of nights at your house just to get away from Neil. You were pulled from your thoughts when the bastard re filled your drink. Just straight Jack Daniels and Neil had his eyes glued on you.

“I’m not going to drink it all at once so you can fucking calm down.”

You were already feeling the effects of the first heavy ass drink. Billy never really liked when you drank because of how little it would take to get you drunk. Steve’s parties always ended super early for you and you’d be passed out in his car before he even got to start drinking. Neil smacked you, almost as hard as he punched the wall. A yelp left your lips and as you straightened up his face was right in yours.

“You watch your mouth whore. Just because you think you can boss my sorry excuse for a son around doesn’t mean you get to come at me you dumb bitch. Now, Drink.”

———————————-

Billy was fucking pissed, Max was supposed to be at Hoppers house but she wasn’t there. Hopper said El and her went to fucking Hendersons which probably meant they all went to Wheelers and then to the Byers. Now Billy was driving all over Hawkins looking for Max just to avoid getting the shit beat out of him at home. Pulling up to the school he saw the hellfire coming out and sure enough Max was linked arm in arm with Sinclair…both of them. Lucas and his sister were laughing about something when Max saw Billy. Her face fell and Billy silently cursed at himself. He’d done a lot better at working on their relationship but he hated that she still would be worried about him when he came to get her.

She said her goodbyes and ran to the car, and Billy spoke up before she could apologize.

“It’s a fucking Saturday and you’re at school. I knew you were a nerd but Jesus Christ Max. I thought you weren’t part of the Hellfire club.”

She relaxed and laughed a little, which eased some of Billy’s tension. She was safe, and that’s all that really mattered. Unfortunately he had to take her home where both of them never felt safe. Max told him all bout Lucas’s stuff and Billy didn’t pay attention but he let her talk. She would listen to him talk about you and surprisingly she gave good advice. Maybe it was because you two were so close, and Billy loved that. HIs girl and his sister were the only two people he truly cared about.

Pulling in Billy tensed at the unknown Camaro in the driveway. He was the only one in town with a blue one, so why was there another one in the drive? Max jumped out, knowing it was you and ran inside. Billy was slow to follow just in case he needed to remember the plate if it was one of Neil’s shit friends.

“Y/N?? Wake up!!”

Billy froze. He was at the door but Max’s voice came from the living room. Why were you here? Why did Max sound worried. What the HELL was going on?? Finding his feet Billy turned the corner to see Neil asleep on the couch and you passed out on the floor. Max was over you gently shaking you and Billy started to freak out.

“No no no no no….”

Billy ran to you and checked for a pulse, you were still breathing and your pulse was there so he calmed an iota but you reeked of alcohol. Neil woke up will all the noise and smirked at Billy.

“I tried to break her in, pretty disappointing but shes dating you so I’m not surprised. Get her dumb ass off the floor.”

Billy noticed Max tense up and he gently shook his head at her. Neil definitely roughed you up and he didn’t want Max to get hurt too. Scooping you up he took you into his room, Max followed like a hurt puppy.

“I’ve got this Max. Just lock yourself in your room okay? I’ll let you know if she wakes up.”

It was hushed tones but Max agreed and did what she was told. Billy shuffled around and found some Advil and a glass for water. Really all he could do was wait…but he was stewing in anger. Fucking Neil.

“Fucking…Neil…”

—————————————

Pain, grogginess and a migraine rocked you awake. You felt a heavy presence behind you and panic set in before you took in your surroundings. Trying to jump out of whatever you were in, you fell to the floor with a thud.

“Jesus Christ babe. Are you trying to break your whole body?”

Billy. It was Billy thank god, you were in his room, in his bed and safe.

“Oh God my head…do you have any-“

Before you could finish, your baywatch boyfriend had a glass of water and painkillers out for you. God you loved him. His eyes locked onto yours and you noticed all the fresh bruises on his face.

“Oh God was it my fault? I swear to God I want to kill him.”

You pushed past the nasty hangover and the burning feeling on your cheek to inspect his wounds. He stopped you.

“Why the fuck did you drink? With HIM? Why the fuck are you even here?”

You were shocked. He was mad at you?

“Well it wasn’t my plan but i wanted to surprise you. If i would have known I wouldn’t have fucking come over!”

“Surprise me with what? A fucking drunk you passed out on my floor? Can’t say thats my favorite surprise you’ve given me.” It was clear that he was trying to cover how worried and upset his was with just anger. Good days he could talk though his anger with you but bad days, like today, he would go back to the old Billy.

“It’s not like I wanted to drink! He kept fucking saying shit about you and me and then he hit me and practically forced me!”

Billy stood up and punched the wall, it was the same thing Neil did but when Billy did it you flinched because you knew he hurt his hand. You worried for him, he never scared you. You knew he’d NEVER hurt you.

“You shouldn’t have come over. You know how he is.”

The door jiggled, and fear rocked the both of you.

“Boy if you don’t open this god damn door you’re gonna be sorry!”

Your eyes pleaded with Billy to not do it, you two could jump out the window and get to your cars and just go…but neither of you would want to leave Max. Billy unlocked the door and Neil barged in, shoving Billy against the wall.

“What in the blue fuck were you saying before I came in? You want to say it to me or are you still to much of a pussy?”

You winced cried quietly for your boyfriend. He didn’t say a word and let Neil berate him. You knew it was because you were there. Some days he’d try to fight back and of those times he’d sometimes get Neil off his back but not while you were there.

“Huh? Nothing to say? Maybe I should ask your whore.”

That got to Billy. Neil didn’t get how strong his son really was, because he’d never been on the full receiving end of a punch, until now. Neil stumbled backward and blood fell from his nose.

“You’re going to die.”

Father charged at son and you knew you had to do something. Grabbing one of the free weights from the floor you threw it at Neil’s head and he hit the floor like a bag of bricks. You and Billy stood, stunned for a few moments before checking on him. He was alive but you still needed to call an ambulance. He wouldn’t say anything when he woke up because the bruises and wounds on you and Billy both were more than enough for self defense claims.

The silence between the two of you was damning. Billy wanted to say something but he was still pissed. You wanted to run and hug him but you were still pissed.

“You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

“Are you fucking kidding me Billy he was going to kill you I had to do something I couldn’t just sit there and let him beat the shit out of y—“

You were engulfed in a fully body hug as Billy swept you up before you could finish. He was crying. You sighed softly and just let him hold you for however long he needed. Eventually he let you go enough to give you a kiss.

“Don’t ever do anything that dumb again. I can’t lose you.”

You wanted to argue that it wasn’t your fault but a part of you knew that he knew that. You just nodded and sighed.

“So did you see my new car?”

Billy laughed and kissed you again.

“Yeah I get it you’re obsessed with me. Have to have the same car too. It’s kinda gross how much you like me.”

You snorted and lightly shoved him only for him to pull you close again.

“Yeah I love you too Billy.”

“I love you Y/N”

“You better. We have matching cars now.”

#Billy Hargrove #Billy Stranger Things #Stranger Things #Billy Hargrove x you #Billy Hargrove x reader #Billy x you #Billy x reader #Billy could have been saved #Billy x female reader #Billy Hargrove x female reader

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slutforsilverfoxes · 2 years ago

Text

Part I

Double Duty (Part II)

You woke up the next morning and rolled over onto Jethro’s side of the bed, hoping for just a few more minutes of morning cuddles (or something more) but were disappointed to find his space empty. You buried your face into his pillow and inhaled that smell that you loved so much, then groaned audibly as you forced yourself up and out of bed.

You washed your face and brushed your teeth, then padded over to your closet to pull out a skirt and blouse for the day. Placing your choices on the bed, you moved to the dresser to get out your underwear and stopped short at the sight of a little gift-wrapped box. Grinning to yourself, you hurriedly untied the bow and slid the lid off, an involuntary shiver running down your spine at the lacy lingerie staring back at you. Wear this to work today, Jethro had written on a little card. You rolled your eyes and placed the card aside. As if you’d wear this to work of all places.

Taking the bra out to admire it closer, you spotted another little card underneath. Don’t roll your eyes- I’m serious.

Laughing in admiration at just how well your boyfriend knew your mind and your body, you slipped into the lacy set and hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of it on your skin. You ran your hands down your chest, squeezing your breasts the way Jethro would and finding yourself growing just a bit too excited for six in the morning. You finished getting dressed and threw your hair into a bun, slipping on some sensible heels that would still be comfortable at work while driving Gibbs wild. Something about you wearing high heels made him absolutely feral, although it wasn’t hard to impress a man who got turned on when you showed interest in his wood- his boat, of course.

You picked up two dozen donuts and enough coffee to fuel an army on your way to work, figuring that both your boys and the BAU team would need sugar and caffeine to make it through another day of this case. “I come bearing gifts!” you announced, your entrance to the conference room accompanied by cries of joy at the sight of your thoughtfulness. “And one black coffee in return for your gift,” you whispered to Jethro, simpering as his hand skimmed over the curve of your hip.

“You wearing it?” he asked quietly, an eyebrow raised as if he didn’t trust you to listen to him. You nodded obediently, heat pooling in the pit of your stomach at the sight of his tongue running over his bottom lip. God, you wanted that tongue in your-

“Okay!” Gibbs suddenly clapped, startling you out of your reverie. “Let’s get to work people. I want this son of a bitch in a cell tonight, are we clear?”

A chorus of “yes”es echoed around the room and a blush crept up your cheeks as you realized you had once again gotten lost in your raunchy thoughts. You needed to catch this guy and then you needed to get laid. Seriously.

You found yourself across the table from Hotch, bouncing ideas about the profile back and forth. This was your favorite part of the case, trying to get into the killer’s head- the unsub, as the BAU kept referring to him.

“So what is it that makes him attracted to these women specifically?” you asked Hotch, biting your lip with a furrowed brow as you looked over the wives’ pictures for the umpteenth time.

“It’s typically one of two options,” Hotch explained, his voice taking on an authoritative tone as he elucidated his profiling craft. “He’s either filled with rage because they represent someone whom he hates, or he’s infatuated with them because they represent someone he covets but can’t have.”

“So maybe this woman rejected his advances?” you offered, mind whirling.

“That’s certainly possible,” he nodded, encouraging you to follow this line of thinking.

“So given the time of day of the kills, plus the women’s daily schedules, he probably has a day job-“

“-if any,” Hotch jumped in.

“If any,” you conceded, getting up and beginning to pace. “What else do these women have in common besides their husbands being marines?” You stopped your movements and placed a hand on his shoulder to reach over and tap on the features as you pointed them out. “Dark hair, almost black. Brown eyes. High cheekbones. Button noses. They’re all conventionally beautiful.”

“They all look like you,” he added, the fact that his gaze was flicking between your eyes and lips not lost on you. A blush crept up your cheeks as you deciphered the indirect compliment.

“Oh, Hotch I- oh!” You cried out and clawed his shoulder at a sudden vibration between your legs. Clearing your throat and loosening your grip, you explained that you had a brilliant idea and needed to run it by Gibbs.

You moved stiffly over to where he sat at the other end of the conference room, delicately taking a seat next to your boyfriend and boss. “Gibbs?” you growled out.

“Y/L/N?” he answered in kind, not even deigning to look at you.

“May I speak with you a second? Sir?” you added as an afterthought, hoping to curry some favor. “It’s very important.” Your little gift is distracting me from my work, you thought, annoyed that he had cleverly tricked you into wearing what you considered to be a literal torture device.

“Mm… busy.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and the incessant vibration between your thighs mercifully stopped. Fine. Two can play at this game, mister.

Clearing your throat, you smoothed your hands over your skirt and returned to Hotch. “What was your thought?” he asked innocently upon your return.

“Oh nothing,” you laughed it off. “Gibbs was in the middle of something anyway. I wish he’d take more time to listen to his agents like you do,” you said softly, just barely running your hand over Hotch’s arm as you reached for the case file you were sharing. You looked up just as Gibbs returned to his file, hand sliding back into his pocket seconds before the vibration came back, more intense this time. You discreetly crossed your legs under the table, trying and failing to alleviate some of the pressure building. Gibbs knew your body, knew you wouldn’t be able to cum without his explicit permission to do so.

Your annoyance grew in kind when he looked up at you with a smirk, daring you to say something, anything, that would give him an excuse to torture you more. You smiled back and pursed your lips. Game on.

“Agent Hotchner, sir?” you called over to him at the table full of refreshments. Gibbs bristled at your use of the authoritative term and you mentally high-fived yourself. “Would you mind grabbing some extra napkins? My hand slipped and now I’m all wet,” you sighed, indicating the water bottle in your hand. In response, Gibbs turned the vibrator up another level. How fucking high did this thing go?

“Never mind, Hotch, thanks,” you rushed out, trying to hold back a whine. You ran down to the kitchen as fast as your legs would carry you, slumping over at a reprieve in the vibrations. You heard familiar footfalls approaching and whipped around with fire in your eyes, ready for a fight.

“I’ll take them off,” you threatened quietly, trying to keep your voice even to not betray your true thoughts. “I’ll walk around here with no panties on, daring you both to fuck me. Try me, Gibbs.”

He grabbed your chin forcefully, pulling you in close. Your breathing picked up immediately, his intoxicating smell and masculine presence forcing every coherent thought out of your mind. “No,” he whispered, “you won’t.” Your body involuntarily shivered at the gentleness of his voice juxtaposing his firm grip and dominance over you. God, you loved this man. “For someone with such a dirty mouth and mind, you’re a goddamn prude and we both know it.”

Your nostrils flared as you stared defiantly at him, and he licked his lips deliciously. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip and you had to resist the urge to draw it into your mouth and toy with him as he was toying with you. “Now get your sweet little ass back to work and find me my killer, or I’ll deprive you of my cock and your job.”

His laugh echoed throughout the tiny kitchen as he strutted away from you, your mouth gaping open like a fish. “You can’t- you wouldn’t- Gibbs!”

You started to chase after him but stopped abruptly as you felt the now familiar buzzing between your legs. Gripping the nearest desk and crossing your legs together, you whipped your head over to where he was sitting and found that fucking smirk adorning his handsome face.

I hate you, you mouthed, pounding your fist on the desk as he turned it up a notch in retaliation, daring you to speak out of turn again.

He kept up his torturous game throughout the morning and into the afternoon, offering the tiniest bit of relief in the elevator as you went to retrieve the takeout your teams had ordered for lunch. Pressing you up against the wall, he forced his tongue past your lips and absolutely ravaged your mouth. You were completely helpless and your jellied legs would’ve betrayed you had his strong arms not been holding you up. Your little tryst was over as soon as the elevator doors opened downstairs, Gibbs stepping out to meet the delivery driver as you attempted to make yourself presentable for work once more. He ignored your advances on the way back up, simply chuckling at your desperation.

Having had enough of his wicked game, turning up the level of the vibrator every time he so much as caught you thinking about looking at Agent Hotchner, you opted to work at your desk rather than the conference room where no one would be able to bother you. Tony had already gone through the marines’ credit card transactions to look for any obvious overlaps, but you were all frustrated with your lack of leads and double-, even triple-checking possible avenues. So you sat down at your desk with stacks of boxes from evidence, beginning the painstaking grunt work of looking through files by hand.

Hours later, your work paid off.

“Gibbs!” You shot up from your desk, propelled by your excitement at the prospect of an actual lead. Without looking up, he held his hand out and you thrust the little yellow slip into his waiting palm.

“What am I looking at?” He raised an eyebrow at you, gently placing his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“A laundromat receipt,” you rushed out, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I thought I’d look through the evidence boxes collected from their desks at work since we didn’t-”

“Y/N,” he cut you off, impatient. You and Abby both had a habit of rambling when you got excited. Gibbs wouldn’t admit it, but he found it incredibly endearing- except when the clock was ticking on catching a serial murderer.

“Tony didn’t find a connection in their finances because they all paid in cash.”

“That’s my girl,” Gibbs said triumphantly, standing up and grabbing his coat off the back of his desk chair. After your constant back and forth today, you couldn’t help but beam at his praise, and he smiled softly at you. If you had a tail, it would be wagging right about now.

You trailed behind him as you explained your theory. The marines’ wives would drop off their uniforms for cleaning which is when the initial attraction occurred. He would stalk the women then, learning their daily routines and fueling his obsession. Eventually the marines or their wives would come in to collect their freshly dry cleaned uniforms, returning home with a tiny GPS tracker that they would never think to check their buttons for. Your joint task force wouldn’t have even known if Abby hadn’t requested to review all of the forensic evidence from the previous scenes, including what the victims were wearing.

The next day, the BAU would get the call about the body.

You and Tony sat in the bullpen anxiously, opting to stay behind for this takedown since the entirety of the BAU was available while you were down a man. It felt like hours had passed when the elevator doors slid open, Hotch and Gibbs guiding your suspect through to interrogation. Tony fist bumped you proudly as they passed, the two of you falling into step behind the teams’ leaders so you could watch them go to work.

And God did they go to work. The way that they interrogated the unsub was downright masterful, alternating between praising his intelligence and demeaning him about his inability to attract a woman. The back and forth seemed to be working well, but every time they showed him images of the marines’ wives, he would close off again, refusing to admit guilt. You saw the flash of a challenge in Gibbs’ eyes, and he stood abruptly, coming out to talk to you.

“I want you to come in with us.”

“Me? In interrogation? With you two?” You realized you must’ve sounded like an idiot, but the thought of being in the same room as those two men degrading someone in tandem might just destroy you. You wanted to be that someone.

“You don’t have to say anything. In fact, it’s better if you don’t,” Gibbs coached. “I want you to walk in calmly, hand me this file, kiss me, and then leave. Don’t make eye contact with the suspect, don’t speak to him, don’t acknowledge that he exists. Got it?”

“I’ll make you proud,” you nodded eagerly, excited to help close the case after breaking it wide open.

“Good girl,” he praised, running the backs of his knuckles along your cheek. Your breathing picked up at his praise and touch, but you came hurtling back to reality as Tony cleared his throat behind you. Case first, reward later.

Gibbs returned to his seat across from the suspect as Hotch leaned against the corner opposite the door. They started their line of questioning again, and Gibbs soon feigned forgetting the case file. He turned toward the one-way glass and beckoned you in with two fingers.

Doing as you were told, you entered the interrogation room with your head down to avoid making eye contact with the suspect. You heard him gasp as you approached, seemingly thinking that you looked like all those marines’ wives, the object of his desire. Gently placing the file into Gibbs’ hand, you bent down and kissed him passionately, releasing all of your pent up frustration over the day. Finally, you pulled away and asked him coyly, “Is that all, sir?”

“That’ll be all,” he grinned, inclining his head toward the exit. You had barely closed the door behind you before the suspect erupted in a fit of rage, calling you a slut and a whore for your overt behaviors and threatening to kill Gibbs like he had killed those other undeserving bastards.

“Game, set, match, baby,” you laughed as you high-fived Tony.

“Good job, kid. Wish he hadn’t used such choice words though,” Tony grimaced.

“Eh,” you shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

“You- what?” Tony squawked in surprise.

“I said,” you turned around with your hand on the door and threw a wink at him, “I’m used to it.”

Later that evening, with a majority of the paperwork filled out and evidence packed away, you gathered your belongings and began formulating a plan to get back at Gibbs after such a hellish day. You were sure he’d be in a good mood after catching this guy, and you hoped he’d be especially eager to please you after your work had solved the case. Plus, your little performance in interrogation had secured a confession.

Yeah, he owed you at least one orgasm tonight.

“What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?” Two strong arms slid around your waist, the enticing mix of coffee and sawdust flooding your senses.

You hummed in appreciation at his sudden display of affection, although it wasn’t rare once everyone else had gone home for the night. “Thinking about how to get you back,” you answered honestly, leaning your head against his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his neck.

Gibbs laughed out loud at your bold statement, making you grin in anticipation. He playfully swatted your ass as you stepped into the elevator, his hand coming to rest possessively on your neck as you stood in front of him. You sighed as his large hand began kneading your skin- you could never get enough of the feeling of your man’s hands on you. Just as the doors were beginning to close, that large hand with the silver watch you had been coveting for two days now slipped in between them, forcing the doors back open as he stepped in.

“Gibbs, Y/L/N.” He smiled at the two of you, moving to stand in the opposite corner of the elevator.

“Hotch,” you responded in kind, stepping forward to press “G”. As you snuggled back into your boyfriend for the ride downstairs, he slipped the right side of your blouse out of your skirt, running his thumb over your soft skin that had been revealed. You turned to him with a questioning look, wondering why he couldn’t just wait until you reached the car but ultimately deciding that you didn’t care because it felt so fucking good after his torture all day.

He kissed your temple with a soft smile, then moved his hand from your hip down into his pocket, your eyes widening as you realized what he was about to do. You snuck a glance over at Hotch who was now on his phone, shaking your head frantically as a smirk spread over Gibbs’ face.

You tried to hold in the moan threatening to fill the space of the four metal walls, but the combination of Gibbs’ dominant hand back on your skin, the vibrator at its maximum, and the fact that Hotch was standing right fucking there was too much for your overstimulated brain. You let out a keening whine that morphed into a moan that would surely give a pornstar a run for her money.

And Hotch didn’t so much as blink.

“You always let your girlfriend moan like a whore at work, Jethro?”

Your jaw dropped open at his nonchalance and- did he just call him Jethro?

“How- how long have you two known each other?” you asked between pants, trying to calm your breathing as Jethro turned the vibrator off.

“Oh sweetie,” Gibbs chided. “This is why you work for me and not him.”

“Fuck you!” you shot back as the two of them laughed at you. You wanted to be mad, but the sound of them laughing together at you was incredibly hot.

Hotch stared you down, eerily calm as the elevator came to a stop at the parking garage. “No, Y/N. We’re going to fuck you.”

Part III

#jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs imagine #aaron hotchner smut #jethro gibbs smut #leroy jethro gibbs smut #hotchner x reader x gibbs

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animeomegas · 2 years ago

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Ohhhh! I’ll love to request something with Alpha’s Ex! Let me think

Oh!

Maybe Alphas Ex(Who’s now with Kiba!) popping up out of the blue and claiming that they had given birth to a child years ago and they know it’s theirs. Like they broke up and Alpha started pursuing Kiba. The other omega tries to mix up the timelines so that Kiba thinks Alpha was cheating on them.

But as soon as you see that pup you know who’s baby that is! Your old Friend! Who was suspiciously close to you old omega, go figure. But this omega is determined to show you that this pup is yours ,almost desperate to prove to you.

So I would like to see what my love Kiba would do!! I know it’ll be hilarious!!

Oh, this would be very dramatic! @voodoogoul

I like to think Kiba answers the knock on the door.

Just for an extra bit of chaos ;)

"Who the fuck are you?" is said by both Kiba and the ex at the exact same time.

They immediately hate each other before the story even comes out.

Ex says they're here for alpha!reader but Kiba asks why before he calls them out.

Ex only grins and says, "They have some catching up to do with their child support." knowing full well that Kiba is most likely their old alpha's new mate.

At that moment, they gesture to the nervous looking six or seven year old child standing behind them that Kiba didn't originally notice.

The tension rises, and just then, you turn up from behind Kiba.

"Babe, what's going on?"

"Ask them," Kiba says, voice lined with a growl.

The ex only smirks and says, "I thought it was time for you to meet you son. I got pregnant the last time we hooked up. It was the night of that summer festival five years ago, do you remember?"

This ex has done their research and knows that his alpha has been with a new omega for seven years now and they also remembered overhearing their old alpha have a conversation at a bar (where they were stalking them lol) where they mentioned heading to the summer festival with friends because Kiba said he wasn't up to going.

It was the perfect plan.

Or it seemed like the perfect plan until Kiba started cackling.

"Ha, I was almost worried for a second, but you're just trying to stir shit, aren't you?" Kiba grinned a wild grin with far too many teeth on show.

"I'm not trying to stir up anything asshole, I'm just trying to get my pup to have a relationship with his appa. Are you so insecure that you'd deny him his appa because you want them all to yourself?"

Kiba only laughed harder.

"Yeah, okay, firstly, that pup was not conceived five years ago, he's way too old and two, there's no fucking way you slept with my alpha during that summer festival."

"He was and I did, you bitch! What ground do you have to call me a liar huh?"

Kiba stepped closer to them, threateningly, only stopping because of your hand on his arm.

"I know because I have five pups, I know what a 4-5 year old looks like. And the oldest of said pups just so happened to be born prematurely on the day of that very festival, meaning my alpha never went. I know childbirth can fuck with your brain, but believe me, I would have noticed my alpha fucking someone else in the delivery room."

The ex reeled back like they'd been slapped, face white as a sheet.

"That's- I-This is unbelievable!"

Kiba opened his mouth to reply, but you stepped in.

"You know, genetically, we could have never produced that eye colour," you said simply.

"What?" your ex snapped.

"Your son, his eyes. We could never have produced a child with those eyes, it's basic genetics."

Kiba grinned, his scent both threatening and pleased.

"So how about you get out of my sight before I have to escort both you and your son off the premises?"

They huffed and left, pulling their poor son behind them.

"Damn, talk about crazy," you muttered, shutting the front door.

"Fuck yeah they were crazy, I'm the only one who's carried your pups and I'm the only one who ever will," Kiba grinned before pulling you in to a kiss with way too much teeth.

"And I'd never want anything different."

#alpha's ex #a/b/o #omegaverse #hcs #headcanons #alpha!reader #naruto #kiba #kiba x reader

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thatbadadvice · 3 years ago

Text

Help! My Wife Wrote a Book When She Should Have Been Caring For Our Newborn and Supporting Our Family, Which She Was Actually Also Doing!

Dear Prudence, Slate, 23 November 2021:

Q. My wife wrote a secret book: My wife is an accomplished author who also holds down a fulltime job in an unrelated field, mostly for the benefits. When we had our first child last year, we agreed that she would pause her writing career—something had to go with a new baby at home.

Except, it turns out she didn’t pause it. She got a great idea for a new novel, wrote it secretly during her lunch break at work, and sold it for $100,000. I feel so many things right now; it’s hard to be mad at someone when they casually tell you your son’s college education is now paid for, and her lunch hour is technically hers to do as she wishes. But she went against our deal! She could have been home an hour earlier every night this year if she hadn’t done this project, and when I think back on all the times she’s been tired or grumpy in the past year, I now blame the book (even though it could have just been caring for a newborn). How do I trust her to keep to her word? How should I feel right now?

Dear My Wife Wrote A Secret Book,

I think there's only one thing a person can feel when their wife had a baby, worked a full time job, and wrote a novel on her lunch break that she later sold for a six-figure advance such that it never fucking affected you for a single moment until it became the subject of your whole family's wild financial success: absolutely fucking enraged at her unbelievably rude self-centeredness!

Who the entire fuck did this bitch think she was, being a parent while setting the entire family up for an easy, debt-free college send-off while being a creative fucking genius, when she could have just as easily not done any of that because she owes you every last fucking minute of her whole-ass life? She could have preserved the most precious thing in the world — a promise she made that she in no way broke by doing a thing you didn't even notice she was doing — or, she could have stifled a great idea so that you and she and your child could be saddled with life-long debt!

Honestly, the gall.

Women are getting mighty uppity these days; many, like your wife apparently, believe they can "have it all" by spending every waking moment trying to hold the whole world's shit together and funding it, besides! When what they really should be doing is keeping their good fucking ideas to themselves and sitting down, shutting up, and making sure no one else has a nice time, ever. You owe it to yourself and your child to make sure the poor example your wife has set is never repeated again, lest people give you every last gift they have to offer so that you never worry for a single dang moment about anything ever.

The truth is, you can't trust your brilliant, creative, awful, and bad wife to keep her word! She may get entirely out of pocket and do some further absolute perversity such as

writing more novels that keep your family in financial comfort indefinitely

doing so while not at all interfering with you or any of your dip-ass nonsense

making sure everybody has enough to eat and a place to live

being smart and cool as hell

even if it's hard and stressful and makes her occasionally grumpy and tired

Just generally a list of the worst shit women can do, especially when they are moms of newborns and should be full of vim and vigor like all new parents everywhere! Definitely divorce this untrustworthy intellectual slag so that you can find out what life is like without her, and with someone more reliable instead.

#slate #dear prudence #advice #bad advice #parenting #writing #novels #motherhood #newborns #intellectual slags #lunch breaks #child rearing #fucking up your kids forever and for life because you are a massive shitbag #sounds great #honestly the fuck

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rafescoke · 3 years ago

Text

Maybank ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: how about y/n is jj’s older sister and shes dating rafe but they keep it a secret bcs rafe is a dick he doesn’t want to be seen w a pogue. jj knows that his sister is dating rafe and he kinda hates rafe for keeping they relationship as a secret. then sarah threw a party n invited the pogues n they play truth or dare n a random kook dared rafe to sniff coke on some random girl’s belly n rafe accepted it without thinking abt what y/n thinks n they fight @rafeswh0ree

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Rafe would do anything to protect his title, even if it causes the girl he loves to stray away.

Warnings: Pure angst, mentions of substance!

A/N: you know the drill. . . send requests!

(Y/N) doesn’t want to remember the day her little brother found out about her relationship with a certain kook prince.

Being a year younger than (Y/N), it’s funny how he acts like a total older brother to her; always so protective, and not letting any boys touch her.

It was a Friday, and (Y/N) had sneaked out to meet Rafe by the beach. The night sky was almost perfect; the moon was illuminating them, and the waves were calming.

Rafe pressed a kiss against her lips, mumbling how much he loves her when the sound of a backpack hitting the soft sand startled them.

“What the fuck?”

(Y/N) scampered from Rafe, fixing her fallen top and running towards JJ who was already making his way back to his bike. His eyebrows were furrowed, his heart banging.

(Y/N) pulled his shoulder, “JJ, stop. It’s not what you think!”

“Wait, wait, what do you mean? Did he drown and you had to give him CPR?” He scoffed, prying his shoulders away and walking backward slowly. “This is so low of you, (Y/N). Fuck.”

JJ noticed that something was different with his sister a few months ago. The sneaky texts under the table, the sudden smile at her phone screen. . . he had thought of the actions as nothing more than (Y/N) contacting her friends.

And when he saw her in Figure 8 two weeks ago, in a fancy restaurant he works part-time in, she had told him that her new friend had brought her there.

As if she would ever have a kook friend.

Of course it wasn’t a kook friend. It was a kook boyfriend.

“JJ, please! Why are you like this?”

JJ turned his heels to look at (Y/N) properly. His nostrils were flaring, and his eyes were wild. Trying to contain his anger, “Your fucking boyfriend is a drug addict and I’m not letting you date someone who choked my friends before!”

He waited, and extended his hands. “It’s me or Rafe. Stay if you want to stay with him, and come with me if you want to come back home.”

“You’re crazy,” she whispered, letting a tear rolled down her cheeks. She thought of many scenarios where JJ will eventually find out about her and Rafe, but this wasn’t in her list.

“Me or Rafe.”

(Y/N) remembers exactly the way JJ walked away disappointedly, his head hanging low and his hands balled up in a fist.

It took her weeks to regain JJ’s trust and fix their relationship, and though JJ still hasn’t accepted Rafe, he’s okay. He’s quiet, sometimes seething at the boy, but he knows how much (Y/N) loves him.

“Hey,” Rafe smiles, placing a kiss directly on her cheeks. Her hot body from the scorching sun slowly tempers down, and she melts into his touch.

Pulling him close, she nestles into his chest. “Sarah’s having a party tonight.”

“Yeah? You’re coming?”

“We’re coming, Rafe,” she sighs. The sprinkling water from the fast motion of the boat hits her on her face, and she wipes them away before looking up to this handsome face.

She rubs her thumb against his cheeks, feeling him soften. “If I ask you something, can you not be mad?”

“Is this about letting everyone know about us?” He asks, his hands resting above her hips. He removes them and wraps his face, sighing.

(Y/N) bites her lips, already knowing the answer to her question. “Never mind.”

“We talked about this, (Y/N).”

“I know, so I’m not going to fight with you on this again,” she sits up straight, inching away from him. “I mean, after almost a year of dating, I think you’d—”

“You’re forcing this.”

“I’m not!” She stands up, groaning. “God, you’re starting a fight again!”

The silence between them grows again, both sulking and shouting in their heads. After a while, (Y/N) moves to the front deck of the boat and Rafe curses silently, knowing that the plan he had about strolling by the stream with the girl he loves is a failure.

But it’s not his fault, is it? He just can’t show her off. It’s bad enough that her brother’s aware of their relationship, and Rafe had to make sure that son of a bitch never opens his mouth to anyone.

“Hey, yo, JJ, got a minute?”

The blonde waiter grunted, eyeing Rafe with so much hatred before placing a cold mineral bottle on the table.

“Rafe, don’t cause any scene,” Topper warned, staring at the both of them. He could sense something was wrong, but he didn’t put this mind into it. He thought of it as nothing more than Rafe’s daily fights with the pogues.

JJ didn’t reply, not wanting to see his smug face what more to talk to him, but as he tried to return back to the kitchen, Rafe gripped his wrist tightly.

“Just a minute,” he smiled.

JJ quirked his head to the back of the kitchen where the workers usually smoke. Rafe nodded, letting go of his wrist, and whispered something to Topper.

“What do you want?” JJ asked once they were in the back alley, watching as Rafe lighted a cigarette and bringing the stick to his lips.

“How’s (Y/N)?”

“Isn’t that your problem?” The blonde boy scoffed, “Hey, man, look. I appreciate this family bonding activity you’re trying to have, but you’re no family. I care about (Y/N), and I’m in no way letting her be with you.”

What angered JJ more wasn’t the fact that he didn’t reply, but it was the superior look he plastered on his face. He felt the urge to slap and hurt him more than anything else.

“If there’s one thing we can agree on—” he said, blowing a puff of smoke. JJ inched backward, not wanting the smell of tobacco to linger on his uniform or he’ll be in trouble. “—is that we both care for her. I understand if you don’t want anyone else to know about me and (Y/N), and I hope it will stay that way.”

“You don’t want me to tell anyone else?”

“Yeah,” Rafe smiled. “It’s bad enough I have to pull you away in the middle of my lunch. Can’t afford to do that with more people.”

“Is it because you’re embarrassed to be seen with her?”

“Can you do that for me?” Rafe asked, ignoring his last question.

“Fuck you, Cameron.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rafe laughed, patting his shoulder and watching as he flinched away. “I think I’ll see you around more than we both want to, Maybank.”

“Hey,” (Y/N) whispers, placing a hand against his shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re in a daze.”

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks, tilting his head up. That was quick, but he likes it. She can never be mad at him for more than 30 minutes.

She crosses her arms, “You want me to be mad at you?”

He shrugs and pulls her to his lap. “You’re hotter when you’re mad.”

. . .

If there’s one thing Rafe’s sure of, he hates parties when he will be the one to clean up the mess the next morning.

Ward and Rose are out for the weekend for their anniversary, and Wheezie is somewhere for a summer camp she has been begging Ward to go to.

Like always, Sarah Cameron takes this opportunity as a way to host the biggest party of the year, inviting all of her pogue friends and letting Rafe do the honor of inviting the kooks.

(Y/N) walks in with her best friend, having to pretend to not be so familiar with the whole house as if she’s not dating the son of Ward Cameron.

“Yo, this house is huge.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) agrees, walking towards the drinks area and grabbing boozes for her and her friend. “Hey, I’m going to see someone, can you wait for me down here?”

Before she can walk away, Sarah Cameron appears excitedly and pulls her into a tight hug. “(Y/N)! What a surprise! JJ’s outside, if you’re looking for him.”

“Trust me, I’m not looking for him,” she laughs, “Have you seen Rafe? I, um, I called him up before for some stuff.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s on the porch,” she replies, and before (Y/N) can make a move, she holds her tightly. “Be careful. He’s got the heaviest stuff with him.”

As if she doesn’t know that.

She smiles, muttering her thanks before heading towards the porch. It’s hard to pretend to not know who Rafe is after spending her whole year with him.

Sure enough, Rafe is sitting by Topper’s side with his other friends surrounding them, his hair messily parted and his nose red. She sighs, knowing exactly what state he’s in.

“Yo, Maybank,” Topper laughs, pulling the empty seat beside him. “Come sit.”

Rafe looks up to the sound of her name, and before she can register the look on his face, he bows down again.

“Hey,” she greets, sitting beside Topper. “You’re okay?”

“This party’s the shit,” he answers, obviously in a drunken state, and pats Rafe’s back. “Yo, yo, you got the same ring as my boy right here.”

Topper grabs the gold ring hanging from (Y/N)’s necklace, bringing it closer under the light and taking Rafe’s hand. “Wow, are you guys soulmates?”

The boys around them laugh, and (Y/N) pulls her necklace away before anyone can guess anything. She watches as Rafe grunts, still so busy trying to separate the powder in lines.

“Wanna try a line?”

“She can’t, Topper.”

All eyes are on Rafe now, who’s rubbing his nose and licking his lips. Rafe never stops anyone from doing a line and even asked Wheezie if she wanted to try one before, so the words that came out of his mouth appear as a shock to all of them.

“Why?” (Y/N) asks, tilting her head to one side. If he doesn’t want to show her off to his friends, he might as well stop trying to control her life. She looks back to Topper, “I’ll try a line, Tops.”

Topper smiles, giving her a rolled-up 100 dollars bill and pushing his chair back to allow her in. (Y/N) takes the chance to brush her back against Rafe’s front, hearing his ragged breath all the sudden.

She bends down, giving Rafe the perfect view of her back, and snorts a line. She falls onto Rafe’s lap as he pulls her close, breathing into her sweet smell as she throws her head back from the sudden tingling in her stomach.

“Stand up,” he orders in her ears, “Stand up, (Y/N).”

Before Rafe can push her off, she stands up quickly and makes her way back to her previous seat. She only tried coke once, way before she met Rafe, and she had thought of it as nothing more but the last time she tried the substance. She prefers drinking to get her mind off since then.

“You’re joining the game later?” Topper asks, glancing down at her short skirt. (Y/N) mindlessly pulls her dress down, and throws her head back once again.

“What game?”

“Truth or dare,” he smiles.

“I don’t play children’s games,” she fakes yawn, “Are you playing?”

“I don’t think so,” he replies, licking his lips. “Like you said, I don’t play children’s games.”

Whatever Topper’s doing to get (Y/N)’s attention; it’s just not working. She’s way too head over heels for the boy beside him, who’s still red and flustered from the brief teasing she had for him a few moments ago.

“(Y/N), wanna grab a drink?”

Both (Y/N) and Topper look up to Rafe. He’s trying his hardest not to look at her again and busies himself with the powder. “You don’t look quite comfortable with Topper.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she replies, watching as his head snaps back to her. She licks her lips, “We’re alright, aren’t we, Tops?”

Topper nods, more than ready to have a fling with the pretty girl beside him, pogue or not pogue.

“Okay,” Rafe replies, “Whatever you say.”

Whatever (Y/N)’s doing to grab his attention; she’s doing a great job at it. Rafe’s jaw tenses at the sound of her laughter, and he has to look the other way when Topper’s hands sneak their way to around her shoulders.

He’s almost glad when Sarah comes to tell them something about the game starting. He sneaks to beside (Y/N), giving her a soft touch on her back, and off he goes to sit on the opposite side of her.

His mind’s still woozy, and he’s struggling to even open his eyes. The booming music still thrums against his eardrums, and the drinks he had earlier keeps every muscle of his active and ready to do anything crazy.

“You’re playing?” Someone asks him from the right.

What else can happen from a silly game of truth or dare?

“Yeah.”

Rafe hopes (Y/N) isn’t playing, because he knows the stupid things his friends would ask her. Always being the topic of his friends’ conversations, he’s clear with their intentions towards (Y/N).

And he’s not making any of it a reality.

“Topper, truth or dare.”

“Truth,” he answers, and Rafe’s eyes snap back to (Y/N). Surprisingly, her eyes are already on him, her stare so pierced that Rafe has to shift his position to ignore the aching in the pits of his stomach.

Rafe doesn’t care enough to listen to whatever his best friend’s saying, and his eyes stay on (Y/N). The girl smiles at him, and his eyes trail down to her chest.

Of course she would wear something like a top that doesn’t cover half of her chest.

He looks away, biting his lips.

“(Y/N)! Truth or dare?”

(Y/N) groans at Topper, crossing her arms and yelling ‘I’m not playing’. Her friends moan at her, pressuring her to keep the game going, and after a few pleas and more groans, she sighs.

She’s so easy to manipulate.

Rafe stares at her again, licking his lips.

“Dare.”

The crowd cheer, but the volume is down to mute to Rafe, who’s too busy having her glued to his brain. She looks wonderful under the dim lights, and Rafe wants nothing more than to have her screaming under him.

“I dare you to make out with the hottest person in the room.”

“Change the game,” Rafe says to no one in particular, sitting up straighter. “Change the game.”

“Yo, what?” Kelce asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

Rafe ignores his friend, and stares at the girl.

(Y/N) stands up from her seat and walks towards Topper, and Rafe can feel his heart stopping. His fear is coming to reality, and she’s so close to Topper they’re practically kissing.

He lays his head against the cushion, his heart aching.

“Yo, Rafe, it’s your turn!”

Rafe sits up straighter, rubbing his eyes and looking around the group as everyone else stares at him. He groans, feeling so tired and not having a clue where he have gone to a few minutes ago.

It might the aftermath of the coke, but it doesn’t feel as good as always.

How long did he pass out?

“Truth or dare, Rafe.”

“I’m not playing,” he mumbles, rubbing his temple.

“If you’re backing out now, you’ll have to pay a hundred bucks.”

What the fuck?

“Since when?” He asks, looking up to the random girl he has seen around the country club a few times. “That’s not the rules.”

“It is now.”

“Fine. Dare.”

Anything to put an end to this game.

“I dare you to do a line on Jessie’s back.”

The room grows silent, and Rafe can feel all stares at him. He blinks, trying to register what he just heard, and laughs. “Just a line?”

(Y/N) bites her lips. He wouldn’t do it, would he?

Somehow, JJ finds his way behind the couch (Y/N) is sitting on. He places a hand comfortably on her shoulder and watches her jerk. “You’re okay?”

She doesn’t reply, but JJ knows the answer all too well.

Rafe’s friends clear the table off from drinks and Jessie lays her bare back against the glass table. Rafe doesn’t look up to her to ask for permission or to give her any reassurances, and it feels as if he wants to do it too.

JJ’s grip around her shoulder tightens, “You should go.”

She shakes her head, staring at the scene before her.

The intoxicating powder is poured by an excited Topper directly on Jessie’s stomach, and (Y/N) feels sick to her core. She feels like screaming, because why wouldn’t he say no?

It’s not like a hundred bucks would be too much for him to stop playing.

Rafe dips his head to the same level as Jessie’s head, and (Y/N) stares at the girl bites her lips the same way (Y/N) does when Rafe’s close to her.

Except he’s close to someone else.

The crowd erupts into a loud roar again as Rafe finally stands up from the lines, his head becoming more bumping and his respiratory rate increasing.

The kook prince doing a line on some hot girl in Figure 8.

What a headline.

His eyes look up to the people around him, but (Y/N) is nowhere in sight.

“Where is she?” He asks Topper. His hands found themselves wrapped around Topper’s shoulders for balance.

“Where is who?”

“My girlfriend,” he answers, not thinking much. “I have to go.”

“What girlfriend, Rafe?” Topper laughs. “Man, you’re in too deep. The game’s not finished.”

“I’ll pay the hundred,” he replies and makes his way out of the party. His sight is becoming so blurry that he falls by the side of the pool a few times before he sees the sight of her climbing JJ’s bike.

“Hey, hey, where are you going?” He asks, standing in front of the bike and not letting JJ turn to the exit. “The party’s not finished!”

“Fuck off, Cameron,” JJ replies, blocking Rafe’s view of his girlfriend. (Y/N) stares down to her lap, not wanting to look him in the eyes, and Rafe’s breath hitches at the silence.

“What did I do?”

Before Rafe can hear any explanation, JJ pushes him down to the side road and he groans from the sudden impact. He looks up to the blonde and lunges for him, only for them to end up by the side of the road.

“Oh my god, stop!” (Y/N) yells, trying to pry her brother away from Rafe. “JJ, he’s not thinking straight. Let’s just go!”

“Don’t get near (Y/N) ever again!” JJ yells, his eyes flaring up in anger and his knuckles turning purple. “She deserves someone better than a cheating fuck like you!”

Out of all the responses Rafe can give to JJ, he lets out the coldest laugh, and the sound of his voice carries throughout the dark neighborhood.

“I’m cheating? She was cheating on me too!”

“What are you saying?” (Y/N) scoffs, “I wasn’t cheating, Rafe, I’m not you.”

“Yeah? The kiss with Topper?”

“That wasn’t a kiss! I gave him a peck on his cheeks!”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact you didn’t kiss me.”

“Is that why you’re acting like a dick? Because I didn’t kiss you when Tops asked me to kiss the hottest guy in the room?” She laughs. This whole thing seems funny all of a sudden after hearing Rafe’s side of the story. “I thought you want us to stay lowkey.”

“Whatever, can you get your fucking bodyguard off me?” Rafe replies, “And don’t call him Tops. It’s like you’re begging to get fucked by him.”

JJ makes a move again, but (Y/N) quickly pulls him away. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hands, and Rafe wishes he hadn’t said the words out loud.

JJ finally lets go of him and walks to his bike, feeling so tired but pumped at the same time from the brief fight with Rafe. He wanted more than anything for them to break up, but what just happened isn’t exactly what he had in mind.

“So you’re going?”

“There’s no reason for me to stay, Rafe,” she replies. “You don’t even want to admit that we’re dating. Are you embarrassed of me?”

When he doesn’t reply, (Y/N) pushes his chest that he staggers backward, still so woozy and lightheaded he feels like fainting.

“Are. You. Embarrassed. Of. Me?”

Rafe stays silent, looking down to the ground and wishing the world would just swallow him up.

“Go to hell, Rafe,” she replies, and Rafe inches backward when her gold ring he had bought for her to match his own ring rolls down to his feet. He quickly looks up to her.

She’s not breaking up with him, is she?

If he felt like he has gone through hell before, this feeling is a lot worse.

Part #2

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @alwaysclassyeagle @rottenstyx @wxn-drlst

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #outerbanks #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks one shot #outerbanks imagines

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slasherrabbitmadness · 4 years ago

Text

Beach day with the Slashers

Female Reader -Bo- Gender-neutral -everyone else-

Bo- Fingering but no penetration. Dirty talk.

Angst and Fluff with Herbert and Dan (They pronouns used for Y/N) Fluff with Michael and Jason.

Michael Myers (1978 with the extra height of the 2018 one)

> Wants to visit the beach during the day. He’ll even have his mask off. Instead of enjoying the beautiful view of the sun hitting the blue ocean, you spend your day staring at your handsome boyfriend.

> Michael is just there to scan for new victims. He kills people who litter, hates seeing wrappers and cigarette butts littered across nature.

> You egg him on to go swimming, it takes a lot of coaxing. “Please, Michael, just for a little bit.” He points to your belongings on the towel, “They’ll be fine, who’s gonna want to steal some sandwiches and some towels?” He shook his head. You got down on your knees and gave him sad puppy dog eyes. He grumbled then lifted you onto his shoulder, you squealed as you placed your hands on his firm back, rubbing his taut muscles.

> When he got up to his pecs in the water he threw you in. You came up for air, “Mikey, what the hell!?”

> “What? You wanted in the water.” He gave a small smile.

> He made you swim in front of the beach while he just stood in the water and watched. He knew you’d be fine, it was your belongings he was worried for. You caught his eyes, his already dark blue eyes were now matching the deepest parts of the ocean. He barreled through the water, pushing you aside. You watched him as he made his way up onto the beach.

> Some fuck had the bright idea to do some stealing. He just happens to choose the one man’s belongings you don’t fuck with.

> Before that guy had time to react to a six-foot-three man, hauling ass like he is a tiger chasing after a deer, Michael clocked him so hard in the face the man immediately went down.

> People stood around Michael, some congratulating him for knocking out a thief, others gawked “My God he swung that punch so hard.” “Is the thief even breathing?” Michael stood over your belongings, and turned back towards you, just making your way out of the ocean. Michael was mad, but not as mad at what he saw next.

> Some random beach Chad made his way over to you, “Yo, that was wild huh?” You gave a quick, “Ya.” not caring to speak to him, just wanted to get back to your boyfriend. “He just knocked that guy out in one punch.” You made your way up the beach, he grabbed at you “Hey, be careful, probably want to stay aw-”

>The poor sap never stood a chance, Michael swung his fist so hard Chad went flying back into the water.

> “I’ve had enough, we're leaving.”

> You were gonna protest, but when you scanned the crowd, you realized that yeah, we’re gonna go home.

> Walking back home, Michael held your hand, tightly. “Mikey?” He grunts, “You don’t like people touching your belongings, huh?” You turned to look up at him and he caught you in a kiss. He snuck his tongue in, dominating yours, you moaned and he pulled away. You whined and he smiled.

> “what’s mine is mine.”

Jason Voorhees

> He’s the beach’s lifeguard, so if you wanna spend a beach day with Jason, you’ll have to do it after hours. You would, but Jason takes the evening shifts too.

> Everybody loved Jason. Kids loved him, he was always so nice to them after all. He gave them swimming lessons. He was always so patient with them, never getting mad if a kid was struggling to grasp the basics.

> Men and Women loved Jason. His stoic demeanor, his calming presence...his bulging muscles. Jason was oblivious to all kinds of flirting. “Your hands are like, so big!” said a bubbly tanned beach bunny. Jason just grunts. A muscle-bound beach bro asked, “Bet you lift a lot eh, what’s your macros?” Jason just looked at his large bicep, he shrugged.

> When you visit him at work he gives you small waves then his eyes go right back to the water, not wanting to miss anything. Dedicated <3

> He doesn’t take a proper lunch break, he’ll eat his food while watching the beach, scarfing down the food as fast as possible.

> After a long day, you’ll finally have Jason all to yourself.

> Night swimming!

> You and Jason have splash fights, that he often wins, his large palms create huge splashes that knock you back into the water.

> Keeps you incredibly close in the water, will bug you to wear a life jacket if you ever swam without him. He’s very protective.

> Holds you close to him the further out you go. He won’t let you go, so it’s the perfect time to smother him in kisses.

> Jason hums into your kisses, his large hands running up and down your back, the water and his hands feel perfect on your skin.

> Jason couldn’t be happier that you're together.

Herbert West + Dan Cain - Poly relationship or what Derrick Barry calls a ‘throuple’

> “Please Herbert, for me?” He grimaced at you. Don’t you know how busy he is? Perfect specimens don’t just end up dead you know? Someones gotta end a life! You sighed and brought out the big gun. “Well, Dan said-” The moment Dan left your lips, Herbert was pushing you and him out the door.

> You and Dan had a blast, building castles, collecting seashells, playing some beach volleyball with another friendly couple.

> Herbert sulked under the beach umbrella, nose in a large medical textbook.

> “If you come with us, Herbert, we’ll get you a grape freezie!” Dan coaxed but it did not affect Herbert. Herbert waved you both off as if you were two mosquitoes bugging him.

> You and Dan walked hand in hand, swinging them in between yourself on your way to the little concession stand. “You sure it was for the best we brought him, Dan?” Dan looked at you and frowned, your eyes were a little glossy. “He only came because you were coming.” You felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

> “fuck, Herbert, you little monster.” Dan cursed to under his breath. Dan knew Herbert gravitated more towards him. It’s not that Herbert didn’t like you, just Dan was there first. Dan never told you but he often caught Herbert staring at you, a softness in his eyes that Dan knew meant one thing…

> “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, quickly rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes. Dan shushed you and brought you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

> “Don’t be, Herbert should be. Some Vitamin D is much needed for his pale little body. I’ll talk to him, okay? In the meantime, focus on me!”

> Dan and you continued with the most fun day ever. You ate your freezies, swapping flavors halfway through. A little boy asked Dan to help with flying his kite, Dan’s height coming in handy.

> Herbert stewed in his spot under the umbrella, watching you and Dan have fun, “Hmph, wasting time.” He kept peeking from his book, eyes on you, how you smiled when you looked into Dan’s eyes, how you leaned in closer, head resting on his shoulder. How Dan wrapped his arm around your waist, lips on your ear whispering...God knows what, Herbert can only imagine.

> “They could just yank me away from this, make me spend time with them...not that I want to. But if they dragged me away from my book then I’d have no choice.”

> When it got late, You and Dan packed away everything into the bags, Herbert supervised. How helpful/s

> Dan had you drop a few of the smaller items at the car on your own, he made Herbert help with some of the heavier items. As your figure became smaller and smaller in the distance, Dan turned to Herbert, “You know, they wer-”

> “I can’t believe you two, frolicking about so openly.” Herbert had cut Dan off. Herbert fumbled with the bags while trying to push up his glasses. Dan fumed.

> “You mean act like a couple, which we are, which you're a part of. Or are you only a couple with me?”

> Herbert snapped “excuse me, you and Y/N are most certainly a couple, which I have no part of.”

> Dan scoffed and shook his head “They want to be with you too, Herbert, They do like you, They feel upset with how you treat them. Now I know deep down you adore them, you best start showing it.”

> Herbert stopped, he looked at Dan and then at you in the distance starting the car.

> Later that night, Herbert had asked if you’d help in the basement. As tired as you were, you went to help. Herbert scarcely looked at you, but he found ways to touch you. Hands ghosting over yours as you handed him some flasks. Grabbing your hips softly to move you out of the way.

> “Everything good, Herbert?” You asked. His eyes looked everywhere but you. He stepped a little closer to you, His face only a foot away.

> He smashed his lips onto yours and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands rubbing along your sides, pulling you in so tight you were surprised he was strong enough to bring pain that way.

> “Don’t cry over me. Okay?” Your face felt hot, you nodded. “You are mine too, not just Dan’s, okay?” You nodded again. “Good. Now kiss me.”

> The kiss started tender but that just wasn’t gonna cut it with all the tension between you two.

Bo Sinclair /Female reader/

> Lookin’ at all the pretty girls go by.

> Catches you catching him staring, flashes his baby blues at you, “C’mon darling, you know you're still the apple of mah eye.”

> Gets pissed when other guys check you out. Strolls on over and wraps an arm around you, sneering at the Chads and Kyles.

> “You just had to wear that sexy little number, didn’t ya?” He snarled in your face. You grabbed your tits in the cute red bikini and gave them a Lil shake.

> Bo yanked you away from the beach, you protested, hitting his large forearm, “Bo, what the hell? Oh come on, you act like a leech an-” He cut you off, his lips slammed onto yours, the kiss was teeth and a little tongue action.

> Bo had yanked you away to some run-down looking bathrooms, the paint was so old it looked like the original coat from the 1960s

> “Now, Darlin, looks like you’ve just been wanting to rial me up now, huh? Wanting those sons of bitches to fuck you?” He leaned in close to your ear, his heavy breathing making you shake with anticipation. He suckled on it, causing you to buckle at the knees.

> “Bo, no I didn’t wan-want ah, the- them to” You were panting as he made small circles on your clit over your bikini bottoms. His fingers were calloused but he could be surprisingly gentle.

> “Now, yah best be quiet so no one hears ya, understood, Doll?” You whimpered and Bo flashed you his pearly whites. “That’s a good girl.”

> You should make him jealous more often.

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lunar-wandering · 4 years ago

Text

me? making my own Monkie Kid roleswap/personality swap AU??? haha, no way.....unless-

anyways I do not have a name for this AU yet but I do have content lets go-

---

- Red Son runs a coffee shop, and befriends literally every person that enters the building. (his parents support this endeavor and supply him with money.) *gives him a light green jacket instead of a red one. hksdfjsfkjs he got them christmas tree vibes-*

- MK started working part time in Red’s coffee shop about 2 months ago, and has been shyly starting to warm up to being Red Son and Mei’s friend. *light lavender jacket + yellow headband*

- Mei doesn’t have a motorbike, because she’s trying to separate herself from her parent’s money. She just has a normal bike instead. *SOFT PINK JACKET TO LIGHTLY CONTRAST WITH THE GREEN IN HER HAIR HELL YEAH-*

- Mei and Red Son have known each other for a while, and they’re both doing a kinda.. vigilante thing together, defeating rogue demons... while also protecting the Monkey King’s staff from being taken, as it currently seals the White Bone Spirit.

- Mei tends to do most of the heroing stuff, while Red Son does more of the tech stuff. Red built Mei’s hero suit and gadgets, he very rarely actually goes out and fights himself.

- Sandy is the one who actually owns the building Red’s coffee shop (and secret underground hero lab) is in, and supports them in their efforts. He treats their injuries if needed.

- MK has no idea about any of this.

- MK lives with Tang and Pigsy, who are both history professors at the local university. Pigsy sometimes drops by the coffee shop to tell a story or two, Tang is typically too busy working to come along.

- one day, Mei and Red Son get a notification that “Monkey King’s staff has been pulled” and they’re both like “uh, thats probably not good” and then they show up at the location, to find the WBS is already gone and-

- MK is there. holding the staff.

- Mei: what do you have?!

MK: ......Monkey King’s Staff.....

Mei: NO!

Red Son: oh my gods, why does he have Monkey King’s staff-

- “it uh..... it felt like the staff was calling me” “that is NOT a good reason to pick up an IMMENSELY POWERFUL ITEM”

- MK: so like....where you ever going to tell me you two are heroes?

Mei: we’ve literally tried to on multiple occasions. you kept leaving before we could tell you.

MK, remembering all the times they looked like they wanted to have a serious conversation so he got nervous and made up an excuse and left: ha ha... i don’t know what you’re talking about

- when they bring up this problem to Sandy, he just sighs and goes “i figured this would happen eventually....guess we gotta go see my brother”

- they dont even manage to make it to the mountain because Wukong bursts into the room like “which one of you fuckers lifted the staff. you? alright, you’re my successor now you bitch.”

- Wukong’s reason for wanting a successor? “hey, it means i can just sit back and relax for once and not do anything instead of fighting all those fucking demons. wait, what do you mean i have to train him-”

- Wukong is forced by literally everyone else into training MK. he’s not happy about it but begrudgingly accepts the responsibility.

- Wukong: aren’t you tired of being nice? dont you just wanna go apeshit?

MK: not really no

- Wukong tries not to get attached but oh fuck he mentally considers MK as his son now-

- Red Son: its nice to see that yet another person cares about MK

Wukong: *(offended sputtering)* wh- i do n- I don’t care about anybody. In fact, I care about nobody.

Red Son, to MK: so when were you going to tell me you changed your name to Nobody-

- Pigsy and Tang refer MK to a therapist. It’s Macaque. Macaque is a therapist. yes this decision is 100% purely because i think it’s funny.

- MK: Macaque you will not believe what happened today

Macaque, pulling out his note book and sipping on a black coffee: tell me all about it.

MK: I’ve become the Monkey King’s successor-

Macaque: you’ve wHAT

- Macaque, breaking down Wukong’s door: were you going to tell me you adopted a kid, or was I just supposed to find that out by myself

Wukong: I did not adopt MK! geez, why does everyone keep saying that....

Macaque: I never said which kid it was.

- Macaque goes HOG WILD with this information, and this is how MK finds out that. oh. his therapist Macaque is THE Macaque. interesting.

- Macaque stops by the coffee shop a few days after this discovery like;

Macaque: hey, do you kids want to hear some embarrassing stories about Wukong?

MK: i mean, that might be kinda rude-

Mei and Red Son: yes, we absolutely want to hear them, please tell us all of them

- Pigsy and Macaque take turns telling stories about Wukong, and when Wukong inevitably walks in on them doing so he grabs the item closest to him (a salt shaker) and just chucks it at them. Pigsy takes that as his cue to leave while Wukong proceeds to chase Macaque around the coffee shop.

- Wukong: *(teases MK a little too much)*

MK: *(looks like he’s about to cry)*

Wukong: oh gods, oh fuck, shit, jeez, come on kid don’t cry, oh no, hold on-

- if MK actually does start crying Wukong starts crying too and its like;

MK: WHY ARE YOU ALSO CRYING?

Wukong: I don’t know- I mean, I’m not crying.

- forgot to say this earlier but MK gets brought into Mei and Red Son’s little heroing gig! Red Son designs a costume for him and everything. (Not that MK ever actually remembers to wear it....)

- MK never actually talks about what really happened the night he pulled the staff, accidentally freeing the White Bone Spirit. If asked, he laughs nervously and changes the subject.

- at some point, this happens.

WBS: I brought the boy to his destiny.

Red Son: you fucked up a perfectly good MK is what you did. look at him. he’s got anxiety.

#Monkie Kid #AU #ive got. NO IDEA what to call this au please help #long post #edit: we are now calling this the Uno Reverse Card Swap AU

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tigerdrop · 3 years ago

Text

in lieu of doing more strenuous hand-based activities heres the Dogboy Gordon In Heat Megamix ive been talking about. i wrote this over the course of a couple months in an effort to feel okay about writing horny shit again and i only just realized there are nearly 6 thousand words here. and they only really fuck for like 10% of that

ta-dah

ive thought a lot about gordon being stuck back at gordonhouse after getting kicked out of barneyhouse. i think its ripe for a lot of pining. (and yes, he is pining over the guy hes actively banging. hes being a big mopey idiot over the fact that he doesnt get to have his fuckbuddy around 24/7.) absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever and gordons already at a baseline of "wheres benrey. wheres benrey"......and now i am about to turn it up to 11

so lets say......gordons starting to feel weirdly under the weather. sweaty and irritable and tired. hes holing himself up in his room a lot, wrapping himself up in blankets to fight off a chill and a sniffliness that wont go away. and hes gettin awfully moody, too. real fuckin testy. starting shit with freemind for no reason and snapping at og gordon like hes a teenager. and......hes nesting, almost, or at least, gathering up a whole bunch of blankets and pillows and anything that smells vaguely like benrey. (hes not really aware hes doing this last thing.)

basically, long story short, feetman is fucked up. hes pathetic. hes being a huge bitch. at least og gordon feels vaguely sorry for him, and expresses this by way of observing him and trying to treat it. for science. its better than freemind, who just loudly complains about him being a huge bitch and reeking up the place. theres something weird coming from vr gordons corner of the house.....a musky, heady, hormonal kind of thing that makes freemind act simultaneously territorial and irritable and more lascivious than normal. and that also piques og gordons attention, because having both of them be wound up little freaks at the same time is enough to make even the most resilient person pull their hair out

now gordon primes got his suspicions as to whats going on, but hes not gonna tell vr gordon that he suspects hes going into heat. that would compromise the experiment, and all that. so poor gordons just going thru all this shit not knowing what in the fuck is wrong with him and getting more worked up and irritable about it by the day. hes convinced that hes just got the flu, or something......except, uh, haha, jesus christ he is horny all the FUCKING TIME

he doesnt get it! he feels like shit all the time, so why is he constantly fighting off boners and having weird wet dreams and thinking about-- well. his fucking boyfriend, he guesses. (are they boyfriends?? he doesnt know. he gets a weird, sharp pang when he thinks about them not being boyfriends, at this point, but its not like theyve ever talked about it!) gordons half-convinced that hes just losing his mind from being stuck inside all the time and he really just wants to see benrey again. its, like, all he thinks about. (see? hes losing it. theres the proof.)

the sucks thing for everybody else is that gordon is also Extremely Vocal about how shitty he feels and how much he wishes he didnt feel shitty so he could go see benrey and how much he cant stand benrey for not being able to read his mind and come over when he feels bad. eventually freemind gets so sick of his shit that he decides to cut out the middleman and get benrey involved directly. "come take care of your fucking dog before i call the aspca! animal neglect is a crime, asshole!"

(if pressed, freemind would adamantly reject the idea that hes being nice to gordon. but on some level, hes kinda sympathetic. the guys clearly miserable, and he just keeps asking for the same fucking thing. might as well humor him to shut him up.)

vr gordon is completely unaware of these machinations, however. hes just holed up in his room trying to work out what makes him feel better because, uhh, powerade isnt helping

jacking off doesnt do a whole lot for him anymore. like, it feels good, but its not very satisfying. gordon just ends up feeling more restless than anything afterward. and hes always stupid horny. more blankets. a box fan. less blankets. sleeping with one of benreys shirts pressed up to his face. grinding into his pillow when he wakes up hard from yet another weird dream. theyre all a little helpful, and he feels like hes working towards the right thing, somehow, but its never really enough to take the edge off

and then.....he tries......jerking off more. especially when he realizes that its bizarrely soothing to do so while he can smell benrey up close and personal on that stupid shirt of his. better still when he rolls onto his side.....and then his stomach.......rocking his hips into the mattress until he gets the idea to lift his hips a little. and......oh. cool. something kind of......clicks. in his head. as he raises his hips higher while he keeps his arms wrapped around a pillow and benreys shirt jammed against his nose. hes got that lil moment of realization that this is good, actually. this feels like a good move. and its making some of that discomfort melt away

and gordon thinks about.....how it felt. earlier. when they were with barmey. and benrey had him just like this, ass up, face down, and was spreading him apart and licking him open and making him submit and he groans so fucking hard that embarassment just rips through him like lightning. but his tail starting to wag a little faster.....electricity shooting through his belly......and he cant help but wonder. what if benrey had kept going? pulled back and-- maybe, replaced his tongue with his fingers, one at a time, curling them inside him and telling him how well hes behaving and-- and his dick throbs, hard, and gordon realizes he wants fingers inside of himself right fucking now, thank you, hes not fully certain how to accomplish it be he is going to fucking try

(sigh) so my guy figures out about the old fingers in the ass trick. and i need you to understand that i am fully convinced that this is one of those guys who has an uproarious reaction to getting fingers in his ass. mr repressed and uptight over here doesnt really get what the big deal is until he gets braver and pushes a little deeper and hes rock hard in an instant, goodbye, just like everybodys favorite creative writing exercise

and this is what he decides to do for a solid day or two without leaving his room, because, honestly, this is awesome. and the longer he spends jerking off the less time he spends stressing about the fact that his imaginations getting really vivid, here. sure, like, hes no stranger to weird dreams even before this, but this is the first time hes really letting his mind run wild and this dude is nonstop thinking about being bred and gordon still has no fucking idea that hes in heat. doesnt even occur to him

unfortunately this also does not solve his problems but at least it feels baller and it keeps him occupied. also, unfortunately, the increased rate of jerking off is causing a serious uptick in Dog Smells, the effect of which is turning freemind into a nightmare. its just not good vibes in this house. enter: benrey

now i need you to understand that when these two meet up again i want gordon to get Emotional. think about how genuinely excited he gets to see some of his pals in canon. the like......excitement and disbelief when benrey shows up outside his window throwing rocks at it before noclipping in. he forgets to even act pissed off at first. i think it would be super fucking cute for him to drop the game for a moment just out of shock, basically. his tails waggin, his ears are perked up, and hed probably tackle benrey to the ground if he wasnt also a sweaty, trembling mess whos been holed up in his room for days.

and benrey has No Fucking Idea what he has walked in on here. as far as benrey knows, freemind just demanded he get over there and take care of his dog.

(INTERLUDE: here is the part where i gin up a freemind POV of this exact scene. b/c i am out of my fucking mind

so. i had the thought of a freemind POV chapter where hes spying on gordon and benrey.....because. gordons in heat. ive talked about that scenario before too (literally so many FUCKING times okay i just need this dude to have the uncontrollable urge to be bred like a little bitch! and for benrey to take pity on him and make him feel better by nutting in him literally as many times as is physically possible!!!)

but i wanna manifest it in this specific way: from an outside perspective. voyeurism is great and also i have a one track mind and basically the only time i traffic in Other Guys in this fandom anymore is as a participant in gordon and benreys horse shit. Im not apologizing for this

lets say.....vr gordons behavior has been getting worse and worse for "unknown reasons" and freeman prime just sees it as a key observational opportunity for his research. while freeminds getting really irritated at how much its cutting into his normal way of life. for one thing, vr gordons room reeks, and he cant even escape it in his own room! and its turning him into a feisty, aggressive, and loud son of a bitch. but he cant even resolve it in his usual fashion at this point (baiting vr gordon into another competition/fuckfest) b/c gordons being a little sadsack holed up in his room and doesnt wanna play

but also.....he kinda just feels bad for the guy at a certain point. hes clearly really miserable and looks downright ill and all hes asking for is to see his boytoy again. (gordons convinced that hes dying, and feels the need to dramatically speak to benrey one last time before he croaks.) so freemind decides, in all his benevolence, to go over gordon primes head and drag the guy over there anyway. (with machinations, not his literal bare hands. what is he, a caveman?) he reasons that itll be a good opportunity to twist gordons arm into groveling at his feet later

and he spies on the two of them in gordons room.....why? idk. possibly something to do with investigating this relationship between a gordon and a barney that he had yet to fully analyze. tl;dr he gets trapped in their closet for a remix of that one barmey voyeurism chapter b/c why the fuck not

i just.....i dont know.....i think theres something really charming about a 3rd party not being able to fully make out what theyre saying or doing but piecing things together anyway.....like benreys weirdly soft tone of voice when hes talking to a super agitated gordon. as far as any of them know, hes not really like that. he either sounds bored or smug, but either way, its usually straight-up antagonistic

it would make freemind bristle to hear it b/c its almost a mocking tone, but.....it makes gordons shoulders drop and gets him to let go of some of that tension and thats probably fascinating to watch. literally soothing him like a stressed out dog, huh. smoothing back his hair and murmuring things in a low, even tone that freeminds enhanced hearing still isnt good enough to make out. (the guy mumbles, okay? he needs a fucking toastmasters meetup.)

it would equal parts horrify and fascinate freemind, in my onion. watching a version of himself fall that hard into the loyal pet role.....its pathetic! for all that gordon goes on about not being a slave to his instinct or whatever, he sure is doing a bad job of acting like it! its like watching himself, but worse.

and benreys having to soothe him like a startled animal b/c he doesnt even know whats wrong with himself, but theres something thick enough on the air that even benrey can smell it, and hes taking some stabs at the dark. especially with how charged some of the shit gordons saying is......"i cant fucking take it anymore", "you smell so good", "i dont know whats wrong with me, man, my dick hasnt gone down for days and im pretty sure i need a doctor-- no, a real one, not the other gor-- NOT a vet, JESUS"

and the whole time.....freeminds peeking from behind a closet door. watching them devolve from outright hostility into "gordon climbing into benreys lap and shoving one of benreys hands up his shirt and demanding that he fucking touch him already"

normally i dont think freemind would be averse to a little bit of voyeurism, here. if it was anybody else, hed probably at least engage in a little heavy petting. but this is getting weird, man. he cant shake the uncanny feeling that this is something too intimate for him to be watching. for one thing, gordons whimpering like a goddamn dog just from a little necking, and for two, hes never really been the kind of guy to watch people make out for 15 minutes before they get to the good stuff

its just kind of unsettling how much these two clearly really, really like each other at this point. its not like watching gordon prime give vr gordon a handjob as part of a "test". freemind expected more of a hatefuck kind of deal out of these two, what with how often gordons normally going on about how much he hates the guy, what a pain in the ass benrey is, how he just wishes benrey would stop jerking him around.....etc. freemind could shit himself right now. that lying bitch!

i imagine its also kind of painful, on a personal level, for him to watch this borderline-sappy shit. he cant even fathom being on the receiving end of that behavior, let alone from......well. theyve all got their barneys, right? and gordon primes basically doomed himself to incel status b/c he wont nut up and do anything about it. freemind just assumed they were all in the same boat: cursed to casual sex with their roommates/clones, forever, and unable to achieve any kind of intimacy b/c all 3 gordons are fucked up in the exact same way. since theyre all just diff flavors of the same fucking guy, right?

well, theres the evidence that hes wrong. and that vr gordons better than him, somehow. thats gotta suck, bro

anyway then he watches vr gordon get railed in the ass a bunch and jerks off anyway b/c its still hot. see ya)

“take care of your dog”. huh. hes got no clue what that means but, yknow, he does kinda miss his dog. hasnt seen gordon in awhile. and he immediately comments "wow. you look fucked up" in as blunt and unsympathetic a way as possible. but gordons so far gone that he cant even work up a good anger about it. he is pretty fucked up, man. and benrey sits on the bed and slaps his forehead with a palm to take his temperature (and that gets gordon to bitch at him, finally, that thats not how you do it, asshole) and judges that, uh, he is hot. in his expert opinion

and thats when gordon kinda grabs his sleeve and tugs it and starts tryin to say something. hes really bad at it, because he is having to perform the mortifying task of Owning Up To It, but eventually he manages to grind out that he needs benrey to touch him, please. just pet him. something. he feels really bad and he just needs benrey to scratch his fucking ears. this is the most gordon can cop to in one go, and it is such a sad struggle to watch, but benreys caught off guard by it and he feels weirdly bad for gordon upon hearing it so hes just like "whoa, okay" when gordon tugs his hand to his head

gordon groans the moment his fingernails start scratching behind the ears and digging into his scalp. even just that much feels really fucking good. its comforting, for one thing, and its benrey, for another, and the physical touch feels so fucking good right now that goosebumps are crawling down his neck. gordon cant help but lean against benrey and bury his head in the crook of his shoulder. he wants to hide his face from scrutiny and he wants to get closer but he doesnt know how to say what his fucking problem is

and benreys weirdly quiet. just kinda mumbling and shushing him intermittently, awkward and not sure what to do b/c this is a level of intimacy he was not expecting but gordons sure is responding nicely to a second hand in his hair

so having both of benreys hands scratching at his scalp is really getting to gordon. hes scritchin behind the ears and gordons tails wagging at a mile a minute. the feelings making goosebumps race down his neck and arms. he starts kind of mumbling something into benreys shoulder, how hes been feeling so fucked up lately, and he squirms a little closer. hes not really aiming for anywhere in particular but every neuron thats firing in him right now is telling him to get closer. make contact. he missed the fucking guy, what can he say.

and one of benreys hands......slips down to gordons face. his jaw. a thumb pushing into that soft little divot between his jaw and neck, like hes trying to push up into gordons fucking teeth. its weird and bizarrely intrusive, but benreys hand is broad and warm and gordon leans into it anyway, groaning with relief. its not like its not doing anything for him. kind of the opposite, actually. then he palms at gordons neck, and gordon starts breathing harder. he can feel his heartbeat rabbit-fast, pushing against benreys skin (and theres no way benrey isnt feeling that, too).

benrey eyes are lidded and his breaths starting to get heavier, too. naturally, yknow, since gordons practically draped over him right now, melting all the more the longer benrey keeps petting him. oxytocin is crazy, man, especially when a guys in the full throes of some kind of chemical meltdown of the glands. gordons eyes are screwed shut, tail thumping furiously against the bed, and hes panting at benreys neck like hes a fucking dog. he just doesnt know how to articulate what the fuck his problem is

benrey smells insanely good to him right now, and gordon just blurts that out. benrey gives him some shit for it, but when gordon only makes a weird noise in response and fists his hands in benreys hoodie, it makes him shut up real quick. hes squeezing out words about feeling like he needs something, but its clearly a fucking effort. its almost pitiful

so. gordons crawled right into benreys lap, too impatient after days and days of feeling like this (you know, being in heat, in so many words). hes been pounding off like crazy, that brand new collar of his strapped to his neck nearly every time b/c hes that desperate to feel… well. *benrey*. he cant fucking jerk off to thoughts of anything else - porn doesnt do it for him, and his fantasies slip right back to the same thing every single time. its frustrating! hes bisexual, for gods sake! its not like hes normally immune to the wiles of the Phat Ass White Girl, but lately he just keeps ending up on his hands and knees and whining benreys name into his pillow and he couldnt focus on a girls rack if he tried

point being. hes being awfully fucking demanding. (and also, hes wearing the collar *right fucking now)*. he shoves benreys hand up his shirt and shivers the moment he makes contact with gordons burning-hot flesh. and hes demanding that benrey touch him already, jesus, hes losing his mind! and benreys just crooning at him, “bossy, huh,” but hes scritching gordons ears and palming at his side and nosing at gordons neck and gordon starts to feel like hes melting into it. his protests at being talked down to are perfunctory at best

benrey licks a stripe up gordons neck and starts muttering his stupid horseshit right in gordons ear and it makes gordon clutch his shoulders so tight, claws digging into the meat of him. benreys kind of into it, though, and it just makes him laugh, low and harsh and right in gordons ear. that just makes gordons problem worse. he lets out quiet, nasal whines on every exhale, like a literal fucking dog.

he starts teasing, like, “haha, you’re *gagging* for it, bro,” but gordon doesnt respond with the defensiveness he expects. instead, its like opening a floodgate - he is, hes fucking *desperate*, okay, his dick hasnt gone down in days and he wants benrey so bad he cant see straight and he cant stop thinking about him and all of this comes tumbling out of him at once. gordons trying to press himself as close to benrey as he can physically get, legs straddling benreys lap and arms clutched tight around his back. and when benrey prods a little more, tells gordon to say what hes been thinkin about, gordon starts to pant, squeezing his eyes shut. but he cant bring himself to do anything more than choke and stutter on the words

hes half-hard in his underwear already (and, lets be be clear, he was only in boxer briefs and a tank top to begin with. hes sweating buckets and its the least amount of clothing he could get away with wearing around the house) and his tails thumping a mile a minute and hes so far gone, just from benrey talking down to him and kissing his neck and scratching his ears. but hes not budging yet, so benrey slides that hand on his ears over to his ponytail and *yanks*. tells him, “speak.” gordons dick twitches rapidly, and he lets out a sharp sound, and he finally says it: he needs benrey to *fuck* him, jesus

benrey lets out a harsh breath at that. “yeah? thats what puppy wants?” and the nickname should blister him, make him feel to embarrassed to continue, but gordons too desperate to care. he just starts spewing a litany of “god yes”s and “please”s. hes getting harder and harder, pressed up against benreys belly, and benrey can *feel* it. “good boy,” he mutters, and those claws dig harder, that panting gets louder and harsher

he slips a hand around to gordons back, rubbing slowly for a moment as if to soothe him, and then slides it under the back of gordons boxers. and lower still. starts rubbing at gordons hole. that gets a quiet “oh god” out of gordon.

gordon cant help himself - he rocks forward against benrey, just a little, rubbing his bulge against what he realizes is benreys *extremely* hard dick in his sweatpants. hes not the only one whos got it bad. but he *is* the only one whispering, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as benrey pushes a little further, makes as if hes about to breach gordon dry. the poor guys so needy that he probably wouldnt even argue!

but benrey just stares at him, wide eyed and flushed, mouth hanging open a little. gordons so hot for this that it surprises the both of them.

anyway after some boring position finagling benrey coaxes gordon onto his hands and knees, running a broad hand down gordons shaking back. and he pulls back gordons tail, exposing him. its so fucking humiliating - gordons got his face buried in a pillow, and his ass in the air, and hes never felt so *vulnerable* before. he wants to argue, he wants to lift his head and look back to make sure that everythings, like, okay back there - benreys staring at his entire asshole, okay, and he wasnt exactly anticipating benrey making a house call to fuck him in the ass - but every time he lifts his head, or starts to say something neurotic about it, benrey chides him about it. clicks his tongue. tells him, “hey. dogs dont talk” or “i said *bow*, bro”.

for all his insisting that hes a real guy, that hes not just a dog, gordons feeling less and less like a human and more like something in thrall to his instincts. the condescension rankles like it always does, but doing what benrey tells him to feels good. feels natural. presenting himself like this feels like what hes *supposed* to do. it doesnt stop him from running his mouth entirely, but it helps to mitigate some of the embarrassment.

and then… benrey *licks*. gordon tenses and gasps. he doesnt know how benrey can stand it, its gotta be, like, unhygienic! but that didnt scare him off the last time they tried this, and its not like gordon hasnt thought about it since. hes thought about it a lot, actually. but hes been too neurotic to ask for it. benreys not stupid, though. hes a good dog owner (at least, so he thinks) and hes gonna take care of his dog. so he licks again, and again, pressing a little harder against gordons hole on each pass with the broad side of his tongue until he dares to breach it with the tip.

gordons rock hard again in an instant. his dick hangs between his legs and drips onto the sheets. he digs his fingers into the pillow now, tearing holes in its surface with those sharp nails of his, and he makes embarrassingly high noises that he muffles into into the pillow, too. hes tense, hes so fucking tense, he should be clamping down and making benreys task really fucking hard, but theres bright pink sweet voice dripping from his hole and benreys rubbing the side of his thigh in an effort to soothe him and both of these things work in tandem to get him to relax. and benrey works his tongue in further, further than a human ought to.

the tip was one thing, but it gets wider as benrey pushes it in, and its just as good as it was before - better, even, because now its just the two of them, just a master and his dog, and benreys the only one he wants to see him like this. bent over and whimpering. he cant— he cant stomach the thought of anybody else doing this to him. hell, there was a point once where the idea of stomaching *benrey* doing this to him would have made him laugh. but here he is. benreys fucking him open with his tongue and pressing against something thats making him see stars and gordon just wants *more*. he says it so sweet, too, voice growing hoarse and raw as he begs benrey to just fucking do it already, he doesnt wanna come like this!

gordon gets so worked up and emotional about it that benrey takes the time to scratch behind his ears again, shushing him and telling him to chill. benreys got him. hes been a good dog, and good dogs get treats. hearing the words “good dog” makes gordons entire body flush. thats all he wants, really. he wants to be a good dog. he wants to be *told*. he blurts out, “oh my god— say it again,” and benreys like, “huh? say what? youre gonna have to be more specific,” clicking the last syllable. it makes all the hairs on gordons head rise and prickle with shame. the best he can do is mumble it into his pillow.

benrey hears it, though, and tugs at gordons collar from behind, just enough to raise his head. “whassat? you want me to call you a good boy?” gordon cant bring himself to answer that directly, but his stupid body betrays him by making him whine. jesus christ, yes, thats all he WANTS! he needs benrey to be good and nice to him for once in his fucking life and give him what he wants instead of taking, taking, taking! but benrey just tells him that hes gonna have to earn it. gonna have to be *real* good for him. gordon could fucking snarl at that, but benreys pulling back to rub his dick between gordons cheeks and against his hole and that shuts him up pretty fast because hes *so close* to getting what he wants and hes not about to fuck it up now by running his big dumb mouth

and then… he starts to push in. that sweet voice has loosened gordon up enough to take even benrey, who, uh, is definitely the bigger of the two, in that regard. he goes slow, uncharacteristically so, and gordons chest heaves with the force of how hard hes breathing. a quiet string of “oh god”s spills out of him as he tries to crane his neck back to watch. the head breaches him with a strange popping sensation, and benrey groans, loud, as the rest of him slides in with little resistance in comparison. “good,” he pants in turn, “youre takin it so good,” and—

and gordon comes, in weak, aborted spurts. it snuck up on him. he clenches so fucking tightly that it winds benrey a little. he breathes out, “whoa. did you—” but gordon just begs him to shut up, keep going, hes not— hes not done yet, its always like this, its not *enough*. his dick barely even flags afterward, it just hangs there, achingly hard and dripping with cum. benrey cant even find it in himself to make fun of him. he wants it so fucking bad, doesnt he? and he feels so good, so fucking tight and slick around benrey that the only thought running through his head is “gotta take care of my dog gotta fuck my best friend gotta nut in him and make him howl”. so he pushes himself alllll the way in until theyre pressed together, skin to skin.

then he starts to move. slow, careful thrusts, more for benreys benefit than gordons. if hes not careful, hes gonna blow his load, right then and there, and hes trying to make it good for gordon, too, okay? unlike *some* of them, hes not gonna bust in two minutes and then spend the next half hour crying and trauma-dumping to the guy hes still got his dick inside of.

once he thinks hes got a grip, though, benrey starts fucking him in earnest, and that changes gordons vocalizations from weak little whimpers into something louder. less restrained. hes given up any pretense of being quiet so that his other selves dont hear that hes snuck his boytoy into his room. just loud, wordless moans on each thrust, initially muffled into the pillow but soon spilling into the wider room when he turns his head to catch his breath. the only words hes managing are “oh god” and “please” and “benrey, benrey, *benrey*”, and benrey just responds to him like, “yeah? thats good? fuuuck, bro, so good for me,” all short of breath and barely able to speak himself

he wants to see gordons face. he *needs* to see gordons face. needs to see what hes doing to him, needs to see that cute fuckin blush of his. so he tugs on gordons collar again, bringing him to his hands and knees properly instead of that bowing position. and then further still - pulls him back so that benreys on his knees, and gordons on his knees in turn, on his lap, cock still buried inside of him and fucking him in short, hurried thrusts. “paws up,” benrey tells him, and gordon does it. instantly. no resistance. just folds them at his chest like a real dog would.

“whos a good boy?” benrey croons, right in his ear again. gordon gasps, “i-i am!”

“yeah? youre a good boy?” nod, wail. “whose— whose good boy are you?”

and gordon chokes on his response. he cant say it, he *cant*, he doesnt want to be benreys but he does, he *does*. he doesnt want to be benreys because its not fucking fair! he cares so fucking much! so much more than benrey does, it feels like, obsessing over the guy like hes wrapped thorny vines all around gordons heart and he cant so much as shift in his seat without feeling the tug and the ache and thinking of benrey again. and benrey doesnt care, he never fucking cares, except—

except he showed up at gordons house, in his room. without even being asked. like he knew something was wrong. and he— hes always talking to gordon, shooting him stupid texts just to make him laugh. scheduling *date nights* for them. date nights where, yeah, maybe they couldnt see each other in person, and maybe they always end in some kind of depraved sexual act, but its not like gordons not into it. hes frighteningly into it, actually. and hes *so* into hearing benreys voice, low and crooning, right in his ear, and seeing him lean on an elbow and smile at him afterward. its— its practically genuine. and benreys always making excuses to talk with him, do things with him, watch stupid fucking movies that only gordon cares about and stream with him on twitch to help boost his subscriber count and—

and—

oh god. maybe he *does* care. that might be more terrifying than the alternative.

then benrey yanks the collar again. presses the whole of gordons back against his front in one hot, unbroken line. and asks, “i said, whose good boy are you, bro? *speak.*”

“benrey,” he blurts out, a ragged moan, “d-dont make me sa-AY it, oh god—”

“no?” benrey stills suddenly. his hands keep gordon stuck in place, unable to move or bounce or feel benrey shift inside of him. “thats, uh… thats too bad, friend. this trains for good boys only. good dogs go to heaven 2. no bad dogs allowed. gonna have to, uhh, escort you off—”

“im not a bad dog!”

“i dunno, gordo. bein’ kind of, uh… disobedient.”

(sorry. thats all i got . byeeee)

#this is so far from finished b/c A) im a coward now and B) typing qith my left hand sucks so i dont wanna do it right now. Sorry #writin stuff

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lady-z-writes · 4 years ago

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What Lies Beneath - Chapter 1 (Heisenberg x Reader) (Heisenberg x OC)

Posting this here too! Feel free to subscribe on AO3.

Chapter 1 is up of my new Heisenberg/reader (Heisenberg/OC) story.

Summary: A trip to a neighboring village introduces Heisenberg to Reader – a Cadou experiment that didn’t quite meet Miranda’s standards. Reader was told to stay away from the Lords – as her powers will only make them weaker – but there’s something alluring about this rugged man, especially when he’s between her thighs.

Boot stomps sound through the halls of the church, their echoes drown out by the yelling in the lobby. Heisenberg lights a cigar as he shoves through the doors, returning to the brisk winter air.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” he mutters, stomping through the snow.

Every ‘family’ meeting is rough, each one getting harder to hide his disdain for his ‘mother.’ But today…especially today, given the timing of things.

Heisenberg doesn’t remember much about his childhood before Miranda, but he remembers that trip his dad took him on – it was around this time of year. It was a time when his dad could break away from the factory, trek through the mountains until they hit a nearby village where they spent some time fishing. That’s all he remembers…some big snowstorm, a collapsing snowdrift almost taking them out, and fishing. Other than that, it’s all blank.

Days like this make it impossible to get passed that resentment he feels toward Miranda. Snowy weather leaves him wondering just how many fishing trips his dad planned to take him on before he was killed, before his son was experimented on, before the whole village went to shit thanks to that bitch.

The cold air and the cigar should make his lungs ache, but he’s so used to it by now. Coat billowing around him, he makes a rash decision and takes a right toward the southernmost mountains.

It isn’t often that he can sneak away from the ‘family’ without anyone knowing. He’d only been away for a while once and thankfully Moreau covered for him when they questioned his absence. If Moreau actually thought he was with him is another question entirely.

The one trip he took led him to the wrong place – no village in sight and by the time he arrived back, it was too late to try another path before the questioning began from his ‘family.’

'Where were you?’

'Why did you miss a meeting?’

'Mother is pissed.’

'Did you get lost in that factory?’

This time around, he had a better plan: got ahold of some old maps left behind in the village, plotted out his path and where his assumption was for the other village, waited until the opportune moment to leave town for a bit. And the opportune moment was directly after a meeting.

He didn’t know exactly what he wanted when he found it. Surely there’s no father to go fishing with so what’s the point?

The point is that he shouldn’t be confined to this stupid village, shouldn’t be one of Miranda’s toys, should be finite and human – not a monster. The point is that he’s chasing something and that probably says a lot about him and needs unburied, but now is not the time for self-counseling.

The climb through the mountains is exhausting, even for him, but he keeps pushing through just in case he ends up empty again, in case the village doesn’t exist in this area either.

The journey makes him start to doubt again, like he’s done so many nights before: maybe this isn��t his memory, but something else entirely. Maybe this was just a story he was told as a child; one that his young imagination ran wild with. Maybe…

A few hours into the journey, several cigars later, frozen limbs, and a sopping wet jacket, and he spots it: several rooftops through the clearing. He lets out a huff then a laugh as his feet carry him forward.

So, it did exist…this whole time…

Thought leaves him as soon as he hears a growl in the distance. Hammer at the ready, he doesn’t even have time to attack when he’s knocked off his feet by something he can only describe as Lycan-adjacent.

The antlers are what get him – stab at his neck before he swings his hammer to knock it off. And then he’s running – dodging trees because, oh fuck, that thing got right back up.

The village comes into view quickly after a few more run-ins with this antler-beast. It charges him again only for him to dodge, grab it by the antlers, and snap them like a wishbone. Blood pools as he slowly backs away, watching the dying thing twitch in the snow.

Sauntering on, he swings his hammer back over his shoulder, touches his throat wound with a ‘huh’ leaving his lips.

Odd.

An abandoned house sits near where he remembers fishing with his father, but he can’t remember what this used to be. Everything seen with fresh eyes, it seems like a lifetime ago – feels more like a dream than reality.

He continues on.

“You’re a fresh face,” comes a voice, almost startling him. Almost.

Spinning on his heels, he shifts his hammer, scans around. A thin womanly figure floats down from out of a tree. She’s cloaked in moss and tree bark, her features soft and almost kind. Heisenberg doesn’t lower his hammer.

“Such a bad day for traveling,” though she doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold, Heisenberg sniffles at her. “What are you doing out here, stranger?”

“Just out for a stroll,” he drawls. “Passing through.”

She steps closer and he steps back, aware that there’s nowhere to board up except the abandoned house. The tree woman extends her palms forward in an almost-innocence.

“Let me take you somewhere nice,” she motions behind her, as if that tree is ‘somewhere nice.’ Heisenberg doesn’t want to find out what she means. “Handsome guy like you…I could indulge in.”

He’s about to swing his hammer when he goes toppling to the ground again, the Earth feeling like it’s shifting beneath him – a dizzying in his head as he fights off another one of those antler-creatures.

Shifting his hand, he can feel the metal from objects inside the abandoned house. With a blink, they go flying through the air to impale the beast atop him. Growling sounds louder, foot stomps, and then a puncture to his neck. It’s not an antler this time, doesn’t feel as thick or grating, and when he looks out of the corner of his eye it’s the tree-lady crouched over him with a needle poking from her wrist into his neck.

Shoving her off then rising to his feet, he collects himself, pulls the metal scraps to float around him, but falters in a dizzy spell.

The tree woman laughs. “Much mightier than I thought. And powers, too!”

Blinking hard, Heisenberg sways on his feet, slamming his hammer down to catch himself. Breaths coming out ragged, he lowers his head to his hands.

This can’t be happening.

Shoving the metal forward as best he can, he realizes that he’s missed: the woman is beside him now.

“Aw, poor man,” she’s seductive suddenly, reaching for him, touching his arm. She seems to ignore the horned beasts surrounding them – or, rather, they ignore her. “Don’t you want to come and warm up?”

He wants to shove her off, but his body isn’t functioning properly. He feels like he’s stuck in a trance. Fingers twitching to shift the metal around them, he manages to kill one of the beasts before she grips his jacket and pulls him closer.

“You bitch,” he huffs, feeling her body pressed against him, his own reacting to their proximity.

She laughs. “Don’t fight it, sugar. You could use a nice release, couldn’t you? So pent up.”

Her lips are pressing to his and it’s almost as if he’s completely lost control. Her taste is exquisite, enticing, he can’t get enough. The hammer falls to the snow as he kisses her back, hand trailing behind her, pulling her into him harshly. A low moan leaves him but it sounds far away. Feeling is leaving his fingers – from the cold or something else, he isn’t sure. All he knows is he needs this.

“Serena, stop!” comes a yell from behind them and it feels like a slap to the face.

The beasts are no longer tame, but they growl in place.

Heisenberg is shoved back as another woman steps in between him and this tree woman Serena. His hands are grabbing for her though – contact, he needs contact – but they fall short and land on this new woman. He can’t seem to stop himself.

“Leave us alone, [Y/N]! This has nothing to do with you,” the tree woman Serena says.

[Y/N]? Heisenberg isn’t familiar…

Breaths are coming out in deep huffs like he’s been running. His head is foggy, trance-like still.

“Do you have any idea who this is?” [Y/N] asks, a small squeak leaving her as he loops his fingers up under her shirt, traces his calloused hands over her belly, inching up toward her breasts, dips his head to the crook of her neck.

“No, but my pheromones seem to work well on him. I was so close to total control.”

He’s sort of aware of this comment from the plant lady – enough that he pulls back from [Y/N] completely.

[Y/N] turns to him then, presses her hands to his shoulders. “Snap out of it,” she urges, “focus.”

Heisenberg finds himself staring into her eyes, focusing on the surroundings, has so many damn questions right now, but the scene before him keeps spinning.

Serena takes a swing at [Y/N] but she dodges, ducks under her blast of whatever-the-fuck-petals-those-are, and delivers a strong punch to her face. As the girls fight, Heisenberg blinks heavily and tries to shake this trance off.

Wide eyes stare into the snow as he’s a little embarrassed by the pants tent he’s currently sporting. Jesus. Fuck.

Anger pounds through him, his hand quickly snapping for his hammer…only it doesn’t work. A nervous gaze is shot to the women but he realizes that the tree lady isn’t using her powers either. He has a sinking feeling as he tries to force the metal pieces to float again.

Hoisting his hammer up the old-fashioned way, he realizes its weight.

“Duck,” he tells [Y/N], shoving her out of the way before delivering a blow to this tree lady, knocking her out.

[Y/N] stands back then, sees the anger flash in Heisenberg’s eyes. The antlered beasts still growl in place.

“Talk,” he snaps. “Now.”

“Your teeth are chattering,” she acknowledges. “Can’t we at least-”

“I said talk,” he slams the hammer down in the snow.

A nod. “Serena,” she nods over to the moss-covered lady on the ground. “She’s…we’re all…” she shakes her head then finishes with, “-like you.”

He can feel his shaking now, attributes it to this news when it could full-well be from the cold.

“Cadou?” he asks to which she nods. “Fuck.” He runs a hand down his face then shoves his hands in his pockets to keep them warm and to hide the half-chub he’s still got. “Where the Hell did my powers go?”

She looks sheepish. “I have everything to do with that.” At this, he reaches for his hammer again. “I-I didn’t take them or something, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He doesn’t look convinced. She sighs. “Here.” She steps backwards about 15 feet. “Try now.”

Begrudgingly, he removes his fists from his pockets and his hammer flies into his hand instantly. With a blink, he watches the metal pieces float up around him then rain back down into the snow.

Ah. So she can block power…

He remains silent which clearly makes her a little uneasy so she starts speaking again.

“Serena is a Dryad,” she announces as if he’s supposed to know what the fuck that is. “She has power over plants. You got to experience her pheromones…” she looks him over, eyes landing on his half-chub before she inhales and looks elsewhere.

“And what do they call you?” he steps closer.

“They don’t have a term for me. I…wasn’t given enough time…” she looks away, steps until her back is to the abandoned house.

He’s close, peering down at her. “And what are they,” he thumbs behind him.

“Wendigo,” she breathes out. He doesn’t reply. “She feeds them…” Heisenberg nods, grabs a cigar from his pocket, lights it, turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

When he’s far enough away from the power cockblock, he pulls his hammer to him again, slicing up the Wendigos with his metal until there’s a heap of bodies around his feet. That should stop them from following.

[Y/N] tries to not let her surprise and approval show in her expression as she watches him, but he sees a small quirk of her eyebrow. Exhaling smoke, he takes another drag then starts coughing from the cold air.

“Powers or not, this weather isn’t good for you,” [Y/N] sighs.

“What, are you the ruler here? Kicking me out so soon?” he swings his hammer over his shoulder.

“We have no ruler, just…a monitor,” she shakes her head, turns, stops herself from saying more. “What is your business here, Lord Heisenberg?”

“Ah, so you do know me. Different village, yet word travels, hm?”

“You…don’t know of this place, do you?” at her question, he bites down the memories of his father. “Come, we have much to discuss.” As she begins walking, she doesn’t hear his footsteps following behind. She turns, tries another angle, “Or I could get Serena back up and she could show you more of her powers. Trust me, you don’t want her spores getting…other places. You’d have greater concerns than an awkward boner.”

Heisenberg can feel his cheeks heating up.

“Mouthy little bitch, aren’t you?”

She holds her hands up in innocence. “Just looking out for a mighty ruler.” She laughs. “Shall I start a fire or would you rather freeze your ass off out here? Maybe you need a minute to cool off – like a cold shower.”

He can’t help the laugh that comes from his throat at her quips.

“Spunky. I like you.”

[Y/N] inhales sharply, surprised and flattered.

And so begins their silent walk – Heisenberg trailing further behind just in case his powers are needed. The village is bigger than he remembers, though he doesn’t remember much.

[Y/N] picks up the wood she’d left outside of her door right before Heisenberg’s run-in with Serena and the Wendigo. If her fire hadn’t died, she wouldn’t have seen the pack of Wendigo charging down the hill at them. Any slower and Serena may have gotten her claws into him to use at her command.

Sometimes these powers come in handy, despite what Mother Miranda may think.

#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x oc

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sideofmango · 4 years ago

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The Warrior Queen & Her Pharaoh: Part I

Part I: In the Beginning

In honor of Black History Month (that’s coming up), and because I’m a nerd for mythology of any type, I thought it would be fun to write about one of my favorite time periods, Ancient Egypt.

We didn’t really get to spend much time on them in school, and I love learning about these powerful Egyptian gods, goddess, pharaohs, and queens.

So N E ways...ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS...um WTF ILY <3

I TOOK SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES (all characters are 18+ in this)

Pairings: pharaoh!god! Bakugou x warrior!princess! Reader Warnings: cursing, disrespectful people, bad bitch Mitsuki Description: Before the new pharaoh can be officially crowned, he must wed. You, the queen of a large warrior tribe called, The Zodos Tribe, are in the same position...the only problem? The future pharaoh is a bit of an ass.

*Extra info: this is written in third person so even though this is a reader insert, I’ll be writing it as if you’re another character so basically no me/my*

and yes, I’m aware it is kinda short and Bakugou isn’t in it that much, but it’s to set the scene lol...I promise there will be a lot of Bakubitch content in the next part

**Tag List is at the bottom**

𓂀 PART I 𓂀 PART II 𓂀

The arid air and blazing sun didn’t make for the most comfortable environments, and yet many people called the desert home.

In a secluded river valley lived the Zodos Tribe, the most fearsome warriors throughout the land, known for their brutality and unmatched strength. Though to (y/n), they were her family and her people.

Princess (y/n), the eldest of seven children, sat in the ornate palace that overlooked the main river. She had recently been crowned the queen of her people after her father chose to abdicate the throne. Her attendants sat around her while others waved large palm leaves, blowing the dry air in an attempt to make it cooler.

“(y/n), ready your belongings! You are to depart with your father within the hour.” The 18 year old turned seeing her mother’s slim form approach her.

Eshe was the personification of grace, similar to her only daughter, though she was taller. Her smooth dark skin glittered in the sunlight and her golden eyes searched her daughter’s face for any signs of backtalk before a content look crossed her face when (y/n) simply sighed and nodded.

“We readied her belongings already, Queen Mother.” (y/n)’s attendant, Subira, answered as she bowed upon her entrance to the room.

“Very well.” Eshe nodded, her snake like eyes shifting from her daughter and her servants to the landscape. “Go ready yourself. You are to meet royalty, Girl.”

“I am royalty, Mother.” (y/n)’s tone was laced with boredom as she stood from her seat. “What’s so special about these royals I am to meet, anyways?”

“That is not my place to tell.” She replied before pushing her daughter towards her room and into the large bathroom. The cool stone rubbed against her warm skin as (y/n)’s attendants unrobed her and bathed her while two others released her hair.

Some time later, the teen was redressed and her hair had been braided again, this time with decorative gold beads and thread woven into her thick dark hair. She had been dressed into a white sleeveless sheath dress, over that a sheer white and gold kalasiri tied in place with a gold and intricately beaded sash. A wide beaded collar was secured around her neck, brightly colored stones and metals woven and set into the necklace.

(y/n) slid on a new pair of reed sandals after Subira had finished her makeup, the dramatic black liner around her almond shaped eyes made the golden hue that she had inherited from her mother shine in the light. “Let us depart.” (y/n) motioned to her ladies as they nodded, following after her as the teenage queen adjusted the heavy silver and gold bracelets around her wrists.

“You look like a true queen, (y/n).” Her mother said as (y/n) walked past the room she had once been in.

“Thank you Mother. I will be off now.” (y/n) called back, not waiting for a response before walking out of the palace and towards her royal chariot where her father stood talking to one of the servants.

“Prepare the chariots.” Her father’s deep voice commanded as the servants nodded running off to get the large chariots ready for the journey. (y/n)’s father turned to look at her, his dark brown eyes looking her over once before smiling. “You look beautiful, Daughter.”

“Thank you, Father.” (y/n) smiled back as the servants ran back over stating that the chariots were ready to go.

(y/n) didn’t ask many questions of her father, mainly because she didn’t really care where they were going, though butterflies seemed to fill her stomach when the large palace in the capital city came into view as they crossed over another dune.

“Your mother asked me to remind you of your manners and your station before we left.” (y/n)’s father told her, as the girl sighed and rolled her eyes. Her father chuckled at her reaction before the pair stepped off of their chariots and were met by royal attendants from the palace.

“King Nafi, Princess (y/n), please follow me to the throne room. The Pharaoh and Great Royal Wife, are eager to converse.”

“I am a-” (y/n) didn’t finish her sentence, feeling her father’s strong hand come down on her shoulder before he stepped forward and followed the attendant up the stairs and inside the large palace, leaving (y/n) to catch up.

“Stupid man. I’m a queen.” (y/n) mumbled to herself as she followed the men into the throne room.

The teen stood beside her father, her eyes gazing over the two royal figures in front of her. One was a man with dark hair and dark eyes. A woman sat beside him, her hair ash blonde and her eyes a crimson color. They were both dressed lavishly as the woman sighed, mumbling something to her husband, before offering a smile to (y/n).

“I am sorry. My son seems to be unable to be found.” She told the girl who simply nodded before giving her father a look.

“(y/n), why don’t you walk the grounds? I have business to attend to with the Pharaoh and Great Royal Wife.” (y/n)’s father brushed her off, shooting her a look before practically pushing the girl towards the door.

“He doesn’t even have any power anymore! How dare he treat me like this. Why the hell did I even come if I’m not sitting in on the business? This is so stu-” (y/n) ranted to herself, not realizing where she was walking before she bumped into something...more like someone.

“Watch where you’re going, Extra!” The boy’s gruff voice said, his tone laced with venom as his red eyes glared down at where she sat after being knocked over.

“Oh get off your high horse! You can’t talk to me that way! I’m a Queen!” Her eyes finally landed on the boy’s face, his ash blonde hair wild and spiky as his crimson eyes seemed to darken and narrow.

He didn’t wear full linens, only enough to cover his lower half, leaving his chest exposed. His skin was tanned from spending most of his time in the sun and a thin shine of sweat covered his muscles as if he had just been doing some type of physical activity before they had bumped into each other.

“Well here you aren’t.” The boy told her before scoffing and walking off down a corridor, not even bothering to help (y/n) up.

“Sorry. It was nice to meet you though.” A spiky redhead said with a small closed-mouth smile. He had been following the rude blonde along with another blonde male, a dark haired male, a pink skinned girl, and a dark haired girl.

The group of teens were about to say something else to the girl when the explosive blonde from earlier could be heard yelling, “Kirishima, I didn’t allow you to socialize!”

“Uh r-right. Bye!” The red haired boy said before they all disappeared down the expansive hall.

“What a jerk.” (y/n) scoffed thinking back to the ash blonde. Getting up and dusting her hands off, she continued to walk around the halls.

The black girl returned back to the throne room after some time, having gotten lost though she was too proud to ask for help from one of the many servants scurrying around.

“Ah, you’ve arrived just in time for dinner, (y/n).” The blonde woman spoke, gesturing towards a large open room that overlooked the river, a large table filled with food sat in the middle.

“I apologize.” (y/n) said simply before taking a seat where the blonde woman had gestured, unfortunately across from that annoying boy from earlier. “Where is my father? My servants?” (y/n) wondered after a moment of silence, noticing that the people in question were missing.

“They’ve left some time ago.” She answered. “This is your new home after all.”

“Excuse me?” (y/n) and the blonde boy had the same reaction, choking on their food with wide eyes.

“Yes, your father never told you of the agreement?” The brown haired man asked.

“Agreement?” She repeated.

“Yes, you are to marry our son in two days time. It’s been arranged since before you both wore garments.” The blonde woman said with a small laugh.

(Fun fact: Ancient Egyptian children didn’t wear clothes until they were six years old, so they ran around naked except for the jewelry they wore)

“Him?”

“Her?”

“Show some respect to her Katsuki! She is to be your wife!” The woman said, slapping the boy’s head quickly causing (y/n) to smirk and laugh lightly.

Katsuki didn’t like that very much, glaring at the golden eyed girl with a low growl.

“Mitsuki, Katsuki...” The man started to say softly, flashing at smile at (y/n).

“You’re right Masaru. If only our son wasn’t such a brat.” Mitsuki sighed, slapping Katsuki again before going back to her food.

“I am the Pharaoh, you can’t treat me that way!” Katsuki protested, angrily cutting his meat.

“What was that?” Mitsuki questioned, her red eyes narrowing as she shot a warning look at her son.

“Nothing.” Katsuki mumbled, his eyes narrowing into a glare at the black girl across from him.

What a dick. What did my parents get me into? (y/n) thought to herself as she stared back at the boy across from her.

Tag List: (Let me know if y’all wanna be added. Just send me a message)

@bakugous-mamas

TAGS:

#katsukisblackteddy #pharaoh bakugou #warrior princess reader #bakugou x black reader #ancient egypt au #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x black reader #in honor of black history month coming up #ancient egypt #TWQ&HP Mini Series #i don't know how many parts I want to write for this yet #black history month 2021 #mha x black reader #mha x poc!reader #pls i love mitsuki

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sh1tbird-shantytown · 4 years ago

Note

Imagine Susan full on slapping Steve's dad for both leaving his son home alone year round and also for cheating on his wife

Billy had showed up just to see Steve sobbing on his own doorstep. An extra car parked crookedly in the driveway. A silver convertible.

He had walked, wanted to enjoy the last of the summer season. Now he wished he’d driven as Steve looked up from his balled up position, eyes wet and eyelashes blown out, face reddening and doused in still falling tears. Big tears. Tears he could remember his own grandfather calling crocodile tears in moments of distress. But this was real.

“Steve?” he called out as he jogged closer, even though Steve had already seen him. He was wiping away the tears, a useless move since they just kept flowing. And Billy knew something was horribly wrong. Steve never cried. No matter how hurt he was. Billy had watched him keep a straight face through monster bites and screaming customers alike. Got flustered and anxious, yes, but never once stressed a single tear. He didn’t hesitate to kneel down so that Steve and him where eye to eye. “What’s wrong, Steve?” he asked as gently as he could.

His hair was wild, obviously from relentless grabbing. Billy watched as his hands clenched and unclenched, eyes bolted to the ground. Steve was just as out of breath as Billy was, chest heaving up and down. He took Steve’s trembling hands and brought them to press against his own chest slowly.

“Breathe with me, baby,” he guided, made sure his chest moved more exaggeratedly. Kept doing until Steve finally started making sounds.

“I—“ he started thickly. Billy squeezed his hands that were still against his own chest. Steve looked up and exhaled slowly before trying again. “My father is home,” he whispered, throat closing on him and making his voice stick in a few places.

And Steve didn’t talk about Mr. Harrington very often. Mentioned how his mother visited sometimes when he got too busy. Said maybe once how they were suspicions of Mr. Harrington cheating on his mother. But Billy had known Steve for two years now and never once had Steve mentioned the man being home.

Billy couldn’t keep the growling back, “What happened, Steve? What did he say? What did he do?”

The breath the other took sounded like that of someone drowning and just breaking the surface. “My mother caught him with his assistant.” His eyes were dull suddenly. “My mother wants a divorce, not that I blame her. But I also know that she won’t go through with it.” Billy waited, knew by Steve’s shifting gaze that there was something else. “And he wants to move out to Greece for a few years to get away.”

Billy’s eyes widened, “You’re moving?” Not only did Billy’s stomach completely drop and then shrivel from the heat of the sudden news, but he knew Steve would be miserable. All he’d ever had was Hawkins. And they’d just started their new thing. And it was good. So good.

But Steve, near aggressive, shook his head, “I’m not invited.” The way he said it let Billy know that it was probably something that was already stated. Told by his own family that he couldn’t even have a choice. This was something knew to Billy. He was still trying to comprehend. It was one thing, something he’d already gone through, to be forced into picking up and leaving. It was another to be outright refused by your own family to not go with them. “He dropped the idea and now mom’s in a fit because she actually cares about me sometimes,” his face was creased with anger. Billy put a hand out and caressed his cheek to smooth them out with his thumbs. It worked, Steve softened a little and leaned into the touch. Then he picked up again, “That’s not even the end of it,” he whispered. Exhausted.

Billy sat beside him and let Steve lean into his side, “What else, baby?”

A shaky breath, “She just showed up.” The way Steve’s voice clamped up with complicated emotion was enough for Billy to see it was a major deal. But he couldn’t figure who ‘she’ was. Steve was ahead of him though, after a moment of quiet. “The woman my father has been having an affair with. Showed up and demanded my father leave my mom because she’s pregnant.”

Billy was speechless. Hugged Steve. Didn’t care that it was a preppy neighborly setting. Pulled Steve Harrington right onto his own lap to comfort right on the Harrington stoop.

“When did that happen, Steve?” he asked as his hands rubbed Steve’s tensed back. Pulled him even closer as the muscles went lax.

“Like—” Billy felt the breaths as Steve counted to himself, “An hour ago. When the yelling started up again and— well I came out here.”

Billy wouldn’t give up now though, “And what, baby?” There was hesitation, so much so that Billy almost repeated the question.

“She had some words to say to me,” he pressed his forehead against Billy’s shoulder.

Billy’s skin ran cold and his muscles tensed without him realizing, “What did she say?” he asked through clenched teeth. Steve didn’t answer until Billy hugged him even tighter.

“She said my father told her I was useless and that I’m spoiled for getting to live in such a big house.” Billy froze up, not prepared for the onslaught. But Steve kept going, underlining venom in his speech. “She said that I didn’t deserve my father and his fucking money. That she did because he loved her. That my family wouldn’t ever love me, and that my father would gladly leave my mom and I for her. Because he would love her baby too much. She said he told her himself.” Steve wasn’t crying anymore, but the coldness and the lack of feeling Steve gave out now was scary. Very scary. Steve was an emotional person even if he didn’t usually cry. And Billy could tell that he was just put out now. Completely overdone.

And Billy was livid.

He knew he couldn’t do much about this. Wanted desperately to get in a grand fight for Steve’s honor. To pummel Mr. Harrington and his bitch into the ground. Destroy them slowly and painfully.

And then Steve said one last thing that finally cocked Billy’s metaphorical gun.

“She pulled my hair when I asked her to leave.” Steve was dead weight at this point, “When she started screaming at my mom and I tried to stop her.” Billy tilted his head and saw Steve’s messed up hair closer. He knew Steve hated it when people touched his hair. Made him panic. Extremely panicked. And the fact that he had been violated by this invasive stranger only fueled Billy more.

He pressed a long kiss to Steve’s temple, “There’s a pay phone down the street, right?”

Steve didn’t move from where his face was planted against Billy’s shoulder, “Yes,” his muffled voice responded.

They stayed there for a little while longer, and he whispered to Steve about just how perfect he was. And how much he loved Steve Harrington. Told him over and over that he was worth everything.

Didn’t move till Steve could handle a smile. Even if it was still broken up.

———

Susan arrived in way that reminded Billy of those crime shows. Where the car skidded on its wheels messily only to just make it into an almost perfect parking job.

Susan stepped out of her run down wagon of a car. Her heels clicked and clacked as she scuttled up to the duo just in front of the steps.

The woman didn’t hesitate to give Billy a worried look, as she gently patted at Steve. Billy let his partner go and allowed Susan to track over them both. She hugged Steve and grasped the back of his head like one would do while holding their baby. Billy’s chest warmed.

There was faint yelling inside again, had started up not too long after they had returned from the pay phone. The convertible had also disappeared. Steve explained it was most likely his mother’s doing. Running for it when she knew her son was at least gone from the damage for the time being.

Susan’s arms left Steve as she faced the door. Billy hadn’t told her what he’d like her to do, but Susan had gained confidence lately with Neil’s lack of company. She wasn’t one to simply step away anymore. And apparently they’d caught her at just the right time.

She flattened her patterned blouse and ironed skirt to impeccable neatness. Straightened her stance like a fighter would before a battle. She knocked and Billy took that as a notion to ease Steve back and away from the door. Out of direct sight.

The yelling stopped, the door opened, and a much older and colder looking version of Steve stepped out. Permanent and spiteful frown engraved on his face. Billy started seeing less and less of Steve the longer he stared at the man.

They collectively gasped when there was the sound of Susan’s hand connecting to Mr. Harrington’s left cheek. The skin blotching immediately. Steve was frozen and all hard edges, still enveloped in Billy’s arms protectively.

Nothing moved except Susan’s mouth.

“How dare you,” she spit out at the man, “Leave your son for who knows how long,” she looked up to the sky as though she were ridiculing him to God herself. “Neglect your son and then call him all those horrid names! What a coward! And what a sin you’ve committed,” she scolded, “Cheating on your wife! Wait until that gets around. No decent woman stays with cheaters.”

“Now, Miss—“ Steve’s father was slowly recuperating.

Susan hissed at him and held up one finger, glare shifted to someone behind the man’s shoulders, “Is that her? The bitch that made Steve cry?” The assistant, Billy assumed.

“What’s it to you?”

Billy could have growled like a rapid animal, could have ran in to yank her hair out by the way Steve flinched at the sound of her.

Susan stepped through and into the house, another crack in the air. Billy was baffled by how quick she was. Because Susan was suddenly in front of John Harrington again.

Spat at his feet with a thick blob of saliva right on his blue dress socks and told him to his face, “You’re a useless parent and you don’t deserve the son you were blessed with.”

Billy covered Steve’s ears when Mr. Harrington and his mistress started shouting again. Guided him to Susan’s car and buckled him in when Steve seemed to be unable to move.

Kissed the top of his head right as they left the driveway. Beamed when Steve started to smile again and definitely didn’t miss Susan’s proud smile and kind eyes as she caught him.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #susan hargrove #stranger things #mr harrington #i’ve been saving this one >:)

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