#to the point im actually limping around

[meanderfall]

tfw you accidentally fuck up the back of your foot so much you actually gotta go to the pharmacy and get supplies to dress your goddamn wound

[gamblersdoll]

“options.”

sum. he likes to play games with you, acting like he big dog, but you can play with him too. trueform! sukuna, fighting to smut, fluff at the end, spitting, deep mating press, (somewhat.)

“whats with the face, woman?” the ancient monster only asks because you aren’t entertaining him, you aren’t throwing tantrums about him not giving you attention. “youre quiet.”

“im not going to feed into your bullshit today.” you snark back, your arms limp and fingers padding away at your phone and he quirks an eyebrow up. “im not fucking stupid, ryomen.”

ryomen?

he nodded his head slow, chuckling to lean back and rub his chin. “do you know who yer’ talkin’ to?” he asks, you must have forgotten, had to be. the fuck was your problem? youve always been an obedient pet, sometimes having your days where he can somewhat understand and help you calm your nerves. was it that time again? no, he wouldve smelled it, if not— he wouldve tasted it. “talk.”

“you keep playing with me, always saying how im your favorite mortal,’ yet, you sneak off to other women when youre done with me.” you bring up, but it didnt hurt when you said that. thats what this was about? his harem?

“because i can.” he leans up and closer to you. “because i can do what the fuck i want to, thats what happens when youre a demon— let alone, king.” he reminds, you tend to forget your place when it came to him.

“you do that, then.” you chuckle, you were sick and fucking tired. “but when i find a man who i dont have to worry about ditchin’ me for other women, dont be angry.”

“thats okay, because you wont see another man.” hes starting to get pissed, because youre over-fucking-stepping. how dare you think you can seek out other men? when you had a demon who can give way more than what a mortal man cannot.

why was he even angry about that thought?

“so its okay for you to lie in my face and say im your favorite, but you seek other women? make it make the fuck sense.” because he wasnt making sense. you couldnt put that together, youre his favorite but he ended the night with other people to get him off. was your offerance not enough?

“lie?”he scoffs, grabbing you by your jaw and pulling you close. “no one has deceived you.” he makes his tone deep, eyes staring into yours snd he has a snarl to his lip.

“prove it, you goddamn liar.” you spit in his face, watching his blink slow and hard as he takes a deep breath in. “do something, i fucking dare you.” you growl, watching your fluids drip down his cheek.

he had to be more pissed at the fact you called him a liar than the actual truth, the truth of the matter being he does sleep around, (and excuses it by saying hes the king, so he can) and he hated that you labeled him as such.

his legs slammed against the back of yours, yeah he was furious— his second row of arms holding your hips down and one hand holding your wrists down together. “got really smart with your mouth, brat. thats not good.” he clicks his tongue, his only free hand smacking your cheek. “youve lost your goddamn mind, woman— did you think id let you get away with calling me a deceiver?”

“fuck you.” you moan out, this was pathetic. but who could blame you? imagine having a giant ancient demon drill his cock into you, while you feel the other one growing harder, and having him focus on you.

“think im a liar, mm?” he asks, his face getting closer to yours and he shakes his head in disbelief. “you want me to stop having others serve me the way you do? mm?” he asks so sweet, it shouldn’t be allowed for him to sound this way.. not with him being a dick and drilling his first dick inside. “cmon, little one— answer. say what you want.” you muster up the strength to speak, only for him to knock it down and him to pitifully laugh down to you. “oh, poor baby.. can you not speak? is it too much?” he asks, slowing his hips and slowly pulling away.

“no, its not—“ you try to say, but he spits in your face, and you knew that he was trying to prove a point.

“see how that feels, nasty thing?” he asks, taking his thumb and smearing it against your face. “say what you want, woman.”

“want you to stick with me only—“ you finally get it out, cut off with a moan only for him to coo at you. your hands pat at his chest, or so you thought.. since his belly mouth opens and licks at your palm.

“that what you want, pet? for me to only have you serve me the way you do?” he asked, watching your head nod and he smirks. “and what makes you think you get that privilege?” he wasn’t fucking serious, whats with all these fucking questions?

“because—“ you moan after, how the fuck long was this going to go, man? “because i can take all of you, thats why.” you let him know that, and now hes intrigued.

he laughs a little, licking his canines and grinding his tip deeper. “thats all you had to say, pretty one.” he blurts, his hold on your wrists become different, his hand holding yours. “takin’ it so good, think you can handle another?” you nod, him slowing just a little and pressing the second cock’s tip up to your slit. “you wanna try again?” he makes sure you know what youre saying..

because no mortal woman have ever taken him before..

until he learns the hard, satisfying truth about how you can stretch really well when you’re attracted to someone. the second cock slips in, your teeth grit and a slight stretch can be sometimes uncomfortable. his eyes blow wide, his mouth opening slightly in a gaze. “oh?” he says in a marveled voice. “fuck, hell yeah!” he laughs in a boisterous voice, spitting on your folds for lubrication and thrusting his cocks inside your cunt. “my absolute favorite mortal, for sure. ill eat my own words.” you nod, looking up to the ancient monster that fucks itself into your walls and feel it in your throat. your eyes roll back, him lightly smacking your cheek and forcing you to look up to him. “take all of it, take all of this king cocks.”

—

“you dyin’ on me?” he asks, him leaning back on the bed as you pull your panties up. “no, no, stay the way you are.”

“not dyin’.” you say monotone, pulling them off and feeling his eyes.

“youre still doubting my loyalty to you, are you?” he asks gruff. he scoffs, beckoning his fingers to you. “come.” come you did, literally and sexually only five minutes ago. “why do you doubt?”

“you never said youd stop, but.. should i have a reason to believe you?” you asked, looking up to him and he feels a pang.

why did they way you look at him hurt?

“i did. you just are too naive to see.” he pulls you until him, hearing your yelp and holding you close.

“you didnt though, you never said ‘ill stop whoring myself around,’ or however you want to say it.” you suggest that he calls himself a whore? him? no, he wouldn’t suffice to that.

“the moment you were able to get two of my cocks inside of you, i decided that.” he pointed out what he thought was obvious, but that only occurs in his mind. “and… i suppose when you spat in my face and i didnt decide to eat you.” he sighs, the side of his face staring down at you. “so be proud of that, youre my favorite.”

the feeling of hurt and betrayal leave you, knowing one thing was for sure.

you were his favorite, and he was yours.

[yongvillage]

bruises | k.mg

street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader

established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭

summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues

wc: 2.7k

you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.

a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.

“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.

he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.

“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”

you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.

“you shouldn’t be.”

“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”

“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“

“well i think you should stop.”

it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.

“what’s so fucking funny?”

“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”

“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”

“please y/n, it never goes that far.”

“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.

mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.

the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.

-

9:02 PM

(5) missed calls

gyu?

mingyu im sorry

are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?

please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((

a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.

he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.

“you leaving?”

mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.

when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.

he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.

you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.

“did he say anything to you when he left?”

“nah, he just walked out.”

oh. it was minghao.

“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”

mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.

“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.

“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”

“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.

“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”

his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.

“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”

you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.

“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.

“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.

“please, i want to.”

mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.

you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.

“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”

you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.

“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”

mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.

it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.

you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.

“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”

you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.

“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.

“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”

mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”

with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.

your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.

“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.

“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”

“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.

“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.

you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.

“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.

you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.

mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.

you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.

“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.

“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”

mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.

tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”

you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.

“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”

“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.

“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”

you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.

“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”

“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.

the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.

“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.

you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.

mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.

you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.

“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”

“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.

“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”

“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.

“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.

@yongvillage | thank you for reading!

[imaginecolby]

silent sufferer || c.b.

summary: when you sustain an injury while exploring with the boys, you keep it a secret, as to not distract from the investigation. requested by anonymous.

“how are you doin’?” colby asked as he sat down with you. you’d joined him and sam on an investigation, and the three of you were taking a quick break after he and sam ran through the history of the place you were at. you smiled at him and nodded.

“i’m okay.” you said softly. this was your first investigation with the boys, and you were quite nervous. but you put on a brave face, because past all the nerves, were were actually excited. this was something you’ve gotten to watch sam and colby do numerous times, and you were happy that colby invited you along. 

“good.” colby said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “don’t be afraid to speak up if you’re uncomfortable or anything. we can stop at any point.” he said, kissing you again. you nodded, before sam turned his attention to the two of you. 

“alright, are we ready?” he asked, and you and colby nodded in unison. 

as the investigation began, the three of you made your way through the location, capturing a good amount of evidence throughout your first walkthrough. 

you’d become a little on edge, but colby was constantly reminding you that he was there for you, and that you could stop at anytime if you were too scared.

but you pushed through. you really were having a good time. capturing the evidence in real time was something you could never fully explain in words. it was something so crazy, and so intense, it was really life changing.

you’d wandered off on your own after a while, separating ever so slightly from the boys, as you explored the area. you walked carefully, as there were holes and debris all over the floor, that you didn’t want to trip over. you stood quietly by yourself, completely open and allowing spirits to speak or let themselves be known. 

you were having a solo moment, listening for anything that may be present or had a message to share. you were so deep into yourself, that when the boys yelled in reaction to their music box going off, you were genuinely scared. you jumped, tripping over something in the hallway. you caught your fall just before your chin met the floor, but you felt a twinge of pain in your ankle. you brushed it off as you caught back up with sam and colby, listening listened as they recapped for the camera, and stuck together the rest of the night.

as you continued walking around, you could tell that you really messed up your ankle when you fell. you could feel yourself limping, but you tried your hardest to hide it as to not take away from the investigation.

as the night finished up, you helped the boys pack up their equipment, and you began to head back to the hotel. once you returned and made your way up to your room, you hopped in the shower and looked down at your ankle. 

“holy shit.” you sighed. your ankle was bruised all around your ankle. it was definitely worse than you thought. after your shower, you limped down the hall to get some ice. once you filled your bucket, and turned to head back to your room, you saw colby coming out of the sam’s room. as soon as he laid eyes on you, you crumbled under gaze, and suddenly felt like the worse person in the world for hiding your injury from him.

“are you limping?” he asked as you met at your room door.

“yeah.” you said softly. you went into your room, and colby followed close behind. you sat on the bed and lifted up your foot, showing off your ankle.

“y/n, what the hell? why didn’t you say anything?” colby asked. he placed your foot in his lap, placing the ice on your ankle.

“im sorry, i didn’t want to distract from the investigation or anything.” you pouted. colby let out a loud sigh and just shook his head.

“you know that wouldn’t have been a problem. safety comes first for all of us, you included.” he said. you sat there silently, watching colby as he stacked some pillows at the end of the bed to elevate your foot. he replaced the ice around your ankle. “do you think it’s broken?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“no. i can still put weight on it, and it’s not excruciatingly painful. i think it’s just this bruised because i fell.”

“you fell?” colby asked, almost in a scolding tone.

“i tripped. i don’t know what it was over, some debris or something. it was too dark and i couldn’t tell what it was.” you explained.

“y/n, you could've gotten seriously hurt.” he sighed.

“but i didn’t!” you joked. colby just stared at you, hurt in his eyes. you knew he worried about you, but you hated feeling like you’d disappointed him. “colby, really. im fine. its just some swelling. i already took some ibuprofen, and it’ll go down.” 

“i just hate feeling like i could've done something to prevent this.” he pouted.

“its okay. this was my own doing. you were working on your video, and i wandered off on my own. it doesn't matter how close we could've been watching each other, we risk getting hurt on every one of these trips.”

“i know, i know. and i know you don’t need me to, but i feel a responsibility to protect you. especially when im the one who invites you on these trips.”

“you don't have to feel bad. it’s not like you pushed me down the stairs or anything.” you laughed. colby huffed a laugh, staring down at your foot in his lap.

“you really fucked this up, didn’t you?” 

“so bad.’ you laughed again. “its actually kind of embarrassing.” you added. colby laughed again, and carefully moved your foot from his lap.

“can i get you anything else?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“im good. thank you, baby.” you said with a smile. he moved to the other side of the bed, climbing in to sit next to you. he draped his arm around your shoulders and you leaned into his side. you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, and you channel surfed for a while before finding something to watch. you stopped on a random movie, which you barely remember watching before you fell asleep. 

you slept pretty uncomfortably that night, since you were trying to keep your leg still and elevated on the stack of pillows. the next morning was a travel day, as you and the boys were heading back to las vegas. you and colby were moving around your room as he was helping you get ready and pack your things.

“hows your ankle?” he asked.

“i can see that the swelling has already gone down, thankfully. still sore as hell, though.” you said, sliding into your shoes. 

“i still can’t believe you kept this from me.” he said, helping you from the bed and walking with you down the hall.

“well, you know about it now, so, ..” you trailed off. colby just laughed and shook his head. you met sam down in the lobby and made your way to the airport. the flight back wasn’t as bad as you anticipated it was going to be, as you ended up having the row to yourself and could put your foot up on the seats next to you. you slept on and off throughout the flight, and once you finally made it home, colby was insistent on coming with you so he could continue to take care of you. you knew better than to fight him on it, so you and him made your way back to your apartment.

you plopped down on the couch, colby setting up the living room with various snacks and drinks, and making sure you were comfortable. thankfully, after one more day, the swelling and bruising around your ankle finally went down and you were able to walk normally without limping. 

“thank you for taking care of me.” you said with a smile, colby packing up to head back home since you were doing better.

“you don’t have to thank me. that’s what im here for.” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“but im still thankful.” you said, kissing him again. “i love you.”

“i love you.” he repeated, followed by another kiss. you stood at your front door, watching as colby left, waving as he drove down your street and out of sight towards his home.

he really was too good to you. but you appreciated him more than you could ever put into words.

[tojisun]

https://x.com/h6rnybish/status/1738343652999467268?s=46&t=dQdAclJh9_X4qFDs38sC_Q

P LINK!!!

but this is so bimbo reader and Simon coded im1)1?2)26262626

p link - WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK IM ACTUALLY SWEATING??? HOLY SHIT!!! no yea that is bimbo!reader getting fucked by simon <333

this is too good that i might just… (😭)

!! smut - minors dni; female reader

simon slips the pad of his thumb past your plush lips, feeling along the front of your teeth, before pushing down on your tongue to make your jaw fall open. he hears your confused hum, the sound of your voice petering into a broken moan, and simon huffs a fond laugh even as he ruts his pelvis closer to yours, digging his cock even further in your tight walls.

“look at you, princess,” simon murmurs, breathless in wonder and awe, as he pistons his hips in languid thrusts. your ankles are hooked on his shoulders, your legs pushed close to your chest and spread apart just enough to frame your pretty bouncing tits.

simon groans at the sight they make, and the hand cupping your jaw trails teasing touches past your face before coming to squeeze at your tits. he flicks at your pebbled nipples and moans when you clench around him even tighter, a hiccupped sob rumbling from the base of your throat.

“si- hah!- simmy, please, move faster!”

your hands squeeze his shoulders, scratching at taut muscles when another slow grind of simon’s cock teases your pleasure points, rapidly sending electric tingles along your synapses before dying out just as quickly because it’s not enough.

needmoreneedmore-

“shh,” simon replies, pinching your nipples as he says this; it’s not really a punishment but it does make your eyes flutter up to meet his gaze. his hips stutter just a bit when he sees tears clump your lashes together, and simon almost whispers an apology. almost.

“be patient f’r me, sweets,” is what simon coos instead. “i promised you, din’i? that i’ll take care of you?”

“mhmm,” you reply, the hum so vulnerable and quiet that simon couldn’t help but croon again, his possessive touch gliding along your ribs and down to your stomach where he flicks at the jewelled stud in your bellybutton, before ghosting his thumb just above your clit.

you gasp at the muted brush, clenching even tighter in anticipation. you bat your lashes up at simon again, kiss-swollen lips jutting out in a pout, and even though you aren’t talking, simon can practically hear you begging.

and, well, he’s always been weak for you, isn’t he, sweet girl?

the first brush of his thumb on your clit makes you choke, the sound coming out in garbles, before you’re throwing your head further back into the pillows as a squeal is ripped from your throat. your toes curl from where they are braced on either side of simon’s head, your pretty tits bouncing even more as you heave in pleasure, and simon almost goes limp at the euphoria razing through him as slick gushes along his length, the telltale of your building orgasm piercing through him in waves.

jesus-

simon bumps his head along the tender slope of your leg, trying to catch his own breath.

see? aren’t you just a perfect match for him?

BITING A ROCK ISNT ENOUGH I NEED TO BE SHOT INTO THE MOON!!!! AHHHHHH1!:&2&$:@2$:

‘simmy’ is stuck now being readers nickname for simon <3

[emmcfrxst]

mom!reader and Laura hospitalizing Logan as an alternative ending for Logan? im not sure where I was going with this, but, I thought it might be a good idea somehow, heh.

-💟

i love that idea! my silly little brain actually thought of an alternative as well— so as we know, the apparition of a mutation can be triggered by a strongly emotional event, and seeing logan agonizing is obviously quite traumatic so what if reader’s mutation, a healing power, appears as a trauma response?

you’re putting pressure on one of the deeper wounds on logan’s chest, trembling hands stained crimson from the blood that’s soaking through the thin fabric of his wife beater. you can hear the heart wrenching melody of laura’s sobs coming from somewhere besides you even through the heavy pounding of your heart in your ears, the sound bringing a fresh round of tears to your already damp eyes. your lover is wheezing loudly, searing pain striking like lightning with every rise and fall of his chest. this is it, he thinks; this is what dying feels like.

he should be relieved— it’s all he’s ever wanted, really; a permanent escape from the torments of his past, but it feels wrong.

he can’t leave you like this— can’t leave laura like this, confused and afraid and without a father to keep her safe. he wants to fight the exhaustion that’s settling deep into his bones, he needs to fight it— but he’s so goddamn tired, and his body craves the numbness that comes with sleep; with death. laura is screaming something he can’t quite make out over the static in his ears, small hands wrapped around his bicep, shaking him in a desperate attempt to keep him conscious. you’re crying, too; he can smell the saltiness of your tears, can almost feel the painful seizing of your chest from the sobs wrecking your body, hands sticky with his blood. he coughs weakly, mouth filling with the taste of iron, his eyes finally starting to close; he’ll rest just for a minute. terror courses through you as he finally slumps against the ground— a warrior, a legend; the wolverine, finally surrendering to time like an ordinary man would. the blood in your veins turns to ice when you realize that you can’t feel a pulse anymore, laura’s wails turning feral as you kneel here, next to the man you love, feeling like you’re trapped underwater. you feel numb as shock crashes through your system, rooting you to your spot, your eyes glazing over. you come back to consciousness when you feel laura shaking you vigorously, screaming something you can’t quite understand and pointing at your hands, from where a faint white glow has started to emanate, spreading over logan’s limp form like a cocoon of light, his skin slowly stitching itself back together where the gleam enters the wounds. you and laura watch in disbelief as logan’s injuries disappear, leaving only scars as proof that they ever even existed. the sound of logan choking on his blood fills your ears again, startling you, and you watch as he sits up quickly, spitting out a mouthful of scarlet. he looks as alarmed as you feel, hazel eyes focused on the slowly dimming light enveloping your hands, a thin sheen of sweat covering his now uninjured body. laura moves first, breaking the spell of the moment, throwing her arms around her father’s neck, hugging him tightly, babbling nonsense. he hugs her back, one hand splaying across the length of her spine, eyes meeting yours, astonished. you let out a watery laugh, shaking your head— silently letting him know that you’re just as confused as he is— before joining the hug, allowing your lips to leave a flurry of tender kisses across the side of his face.

there would definitely be things to talk about later, but that could wait. you had a reunion to finish first.

[sanzaibian]

“Sir, here are the Beatty files.” The young woman told me, handing a USB key.

I have heard a lot about these files. They were intercepted in the town after which they’re named by the secret services a while ago, but were encrypted in such a puzzling way that only now can we view them. And of course, I am the first one to be able to review its content.

I know a lot of things, as it is my job to be informed of anything and everything happening around the world. I know the plans of China over Taiwan, the successor to the Ayatollah, the contents of the talks between Putin and Kim Jong-un, and all the current US military strategy. In my line of work, everything can happen, yet at no single point could I make sense of the Beatty files. Nor could anyone else for that matter.

I excused the young woman, bidding to her my thanks for the deciphering team, and went to the unused laptop I had prepared. When it comes to matters of national security, I cannot afford to be careless, and let anyone unlicensed to get access to this. So brand new laptop, created by us, which has never been opened, to open these files.

And so I fiddled with the parameters a bit, entering the secret code, and inserted the USB key to view its contents. Inside were a few files, all of which videos. Their names were not informative, since I know for a fact that their original names were not recovered, so I just opened the first file in the list.

The video opened looking down in a white cubic room, meaning it was very likely a security camera recording. In addition, there was the time indicated on the bottom right, yet something felt weird about how it was displayed… 15:58… 15:59… 15:60 ???... 16:01, etc. Why is it not counting time correctly ? Nobody indicates time like this ! It’s wrong, it’s incorrect ! I just opened it and there’s already something I cannot in any way explain !

Taking a deep breath, I look at the center of the screen, in which I have a good view of a man sat in a chair. He has tanned skin, black hair and black stubble, and a very developed musculature. He looks to be a very attractive middle-eastern man, although I cannot say which ethnicity he precisely has.

The chair he’s sitting on is quite massive, and he looks almost as if he is… restrained in it ? Yes, there seems to be little handcuffs tethering him to the armchairs. But most striking are the numerous tubes going out from his arms, legs, torso and even head, linked to some types of medical appliances I cannot recognize, as well as to a sort of glass tank.

Suddenly, I notice the deep voice of a man. I up the volume, and hear… a language I cannot understand.

“Tzai en 19/03, 2:17, en tzoujkbruoi odogattzion program en Scipio Labratory. Ny hse Hk. Adtem, tzai widt nyn hskadiais, Sjd. Fingtrosy ÿ Sd. Vagohs, ÿ naum wom fill no tzoujketvÿsn ekspÿrians widt no #1073 bymarjen.”

At first I get some German vibes from it, but then it seems to be Polish, and then French… Whatever that language might be, it is not one I have ever heard. The man in the chair looks around, seemingly half-dazed, as if he was drugged. I don’t know what will happen to him, yet I get the feeling that it won’t be a desirable fate.

Suddenly, another voice, that of a woman by the looks of things, speaking in that same strange language.

“Hsüzmalhsÿv drël en im.”

Then a buzzer sound. There seems to be some white substance flowing inside the man’s body, through the tubes from the medical appliances. As it flows, I can see his eyes starting to become more droopy, before fluttering, and then closing. At the same time, his body starts floundering in the restraints, as if he was keeping himself from falling asleep. But as time went on and the white liquid ran dry, all of his muscles were relaxing and his stance become limp, like that of a dysfunctional robot. However, looking at his accelerating breathing rhythm, it seems to my trained eye that he is not actually asleep. It’s only his body refusing to function correctly.

“Drël ingkatzt. Etvÿsn harjimÿll.” Says another voice, deeper than the last one, but not as deep as the first one.

I don’t really know what’s happening. If the counter on the bottom-right of the screen wasn’t ticking up, I would have thought that the image was frozen. But then, suddenly, I can hear a low sound in the recording. And that sounds starts creeping higher and higher, as if something was charging up… Yeah, definitively charging up, since I almost saw some lightning sparks going off from the chair…

I don’t know what’s happening, but it seems to be malfunctioning. The sparks make themselves more and more intense, and it almost seems as if the machine is ready to explode...

Just as I say that, the first deep voice makes itself heard once again, but this time more in a frustrated or worried tone than an official one.

“Sel heont havy… Go huop sel hstill pÿrdont...”

But suddenly, the sparks stop, and while the sound doesn’t stop, beige liquid start flowing into the pipes… from the man to the tank ? What is that thing ? I don’t understand ! However, I can hear cries of rejoice in the audience, with all three voices I’ve heard since then saying incomprehensible stuff that I wouldn’t even be able to transcribe. I guess they also didn’t think… whatever this is would work ?

I take a drink from my water bottle as I keep an eye on the video. However, since I need to reach my bag, I cannot actively monitor it. Besides, according to what I hear, nothing of note seems to be happening... But when I have put down the bottle, I stop the video. I rub my eyes, but even then, I still see it.

The man seems smaller.

Somehow.

I go back in the video to the time where the man with the deepest voice sounded worried and… Yeah, looking like that, it’s even more apparent. The man has been losing mass. And the tanks have been filled by this beige skin-color liquid… Heh, if I didn’t know I was in reality, I would have said that this is muscle-juice, but this is ridiculous…

Especially since the body mass hasn’t been the only thing to change.

As I play back the video and continue through the long haul of high-pitch noise and not much else, I notice that the man’s stubble seems to be disappearing… and his head hair growing as well, somehow ? It almost seems as if he’s becoming less masculine by the second, if it even makes any sense, even though nothing about this video actually makesanysense. If I didn’t know who supplied it to me, I would have said this was a fake…

As his pecs were shrinking, his arms were thinning, his waist narrowing and his legs slimming, his stance almost seemed to be relaxing further – if it’s even possible. I mean, I don’t know ! It’s just the impression that I’m getting ! As the last of his stubble vanishes, at least according to what I can see through the pixels, he almost seems to be getting cuter ? Whence more relaxed ? Fuck, this makes absolutely no sense whatsoever…

Oh. I know why I get this impression. It’s not anymore weird or nonsensical, but at least in this context it seems to make sense… I think he also is losing height. Yes, actually. Height. It’s almost as if someone took the textbook definition of a “twink” and decided to impart its characteristic on this poor fellow – don’t ask me why I know what it is.

As I continue watching in horror, the woman’s voice says, gleefully :

“Entzony as hen !”

How can they sound so… happy ? Happy to torture a man like this ? To, quite visibly, drain his muscles into those tanks that look more and more full ? It just goes beyond me ! Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen my fair share of horrible and unethical treatments, and a ton of unethical human experiments. But this by far takes the cake of the most disturbing thing I have ever seen ! They’re taking away what he is, his identity ! Him ! That’s the most cruel violation of human rights I have ever seen ! To gleefully disfigure someone like that…

The tanks have finished filling up, and the sound starts lowering in intensity. The man left looks only like a shadow of who he was. He still looks like himself, except devoid of any… meat, may I say ? When the machine was well and truly turned off, the deep voice rejoiced, seemingly announcing the success of that terrible plot.

“Fÿstyfuroll ! Oll fod havy kotzvong !”

Funnily enough, the first word made me think of “feast for all”, which just feels wrong given the context. On that, they all seem to have left the premises, as a nurse came in and untethered the poor man from all the equipment, and taking with her the tanks filled of muscle juice.

I continued watching, hoping that I would get to see the young man wake up.

And wake up he did, looking around, before standing up… and immediately falling. Presumably due to him not expecting to be this skinny. He then looked at himself, and had an utterly horrified look in his eyes, as if he was processing the fact that he was irremediably different.

He crawled towards the wall, and using that, he climbed back to standing, managing to take a position so that he could be looking at the camera.

And on that, the video suddenly stopped, leaving me on this freeze frame :

I absolutely don’t know what to do with that. Now I not only understand, but also feel how confused the secret services were by intercepting this message. It just seems wrong in so many ways, so much that… it might not even have occurred on Earth for all I know ! The language is unknown, but familiar. The way to count time is disturbing, but otherwise identical to ours. The events depicted are of typical mad experimentation, but in a manner that is unthinkable in my knowledge of the world.

I don’t have the strength to view any of the other videos, since they’re likely all the same amount of disturbing. So I close the laptop, and already starts asking myself the question I need to give an answer for my superiors :

Just what the hell are the Beatty files ?!

[hobiespick]

Sam Winchester x reader headcanons part 3

<33

a/n: heyyyyyy I had so much fun writting these. I am literally shaking as we speak cuz i'm still kinda shy abt this even tho yall showed me sm love and gave so much positive feedback on the first 2 parts I was giggling, blushing, and twirling my invisible phone cord. Thank you all so much for everything and enjoy my shitty thoughts 🫶💞 + tagging a lovely person who gave me the idea of writting one of these @yinorathedragontamer

Summary/Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Sam Winchester x gn!reader , Sam being the biggest boyfriend of all boyfriends (im quoting one of my moots), the first headcanon isn't sam x reader it's Jess x Sam (rip to the hottest couple) the headcanon came to me in a prophetic vision and i just had to leave it here, mention of Sam's childhood + I couldn't help myself but make a few headcanons about Dean too.

- I have a deep feeling (i'm an empath) that around college when he was with Jess and he wouldn't leave her side, Sam accidentally got adopted by her girl group of friends - hear me out - he would cling to Jess for his dear life shaking and not wanting to intrude or make him look nosy and Jess's girlfriends wouldn't bat an eye, welcoming Sam with open arms and treating him the same - they are the reason his guilty pleasure is gossiping. One of Jess's (girl)friends coming hurriedly towards the group with a shocked expression and a hand covering her mouth and Sam already knows the tea is scrumptious - he probably got called "girl" so many times - he didn't mind it btw, actually kinda liked it because that means they included him - spreading my "Sam Winchester enjoys the company of female friends more than male ones agenda" like wildfire ‼️ - "wyd when me and my gang pull up" and it's five y2k girls + a preppy blonde girl whose boyfriend is some 6'4 emo kid with a Green Day tee who follows her around with heart eyes

- "Dean, move your leg or I'm throwing your fucking mixtapes out of the window" you threaten annoyed at the audacity of the long ass older Winchester to just stretch out as if you're not both (tired af) in the back seat of baby, you try to find a comfortable position for what feels like the 50th time to stay for a few hours untill all of you make it in one piece to Washington (Dean might not since he is acting like that). "You touch my mixtapes and I might throw you out of the window, runt." Dean barks (lovingly), lifting his sunglasses on his head and pointing a defensive finger at you. You are too tired to think and to retort something snarky back but still settle on rolling your eyes and giving his foot a kick.

Sam is driving like a princess in the front, his legs are streched out with his back comfortably resting against his seat with an arm lazily holding the steering wheel as the wind coming from the rolled window brushes some of his hair on his forhead, all while looking effortlessly handsome. "Don't make me come back there" Sam laughs breaking the character he wanted to play along as (hint: dads on road trips). Sam's pants would catch on fire if he said he was annoyed at your childish bickering with his brother, he found it endearing. It just added to the list of things he liked about you. You gasp a little bit too dramatically and gesture towards Dean "He started it" you grumble. Dean gives you a kick of his own pulling his sunglasses back down and crossing his arms, atleast he retreats his legs giving you enough space to rest yours.

- uses every excuse to touch you (his hands are literally twitching in anticipation to hold yours, or hug you)

- Dean is a classic rock etillist (he learned that from J*hn) but his guilty pleasure is nu metal especially limp bizkit. - he only listens when Sam isn't around. - says he's getting himself a little treat (fancy headphones) with his hard-earned money (poker/credit card fraud) - J*hn introduced him to led zeppelin and Dean feels like he's dissapointing him by not being a carbon copy of him hence his secrecy - So the "guilty pleasure" has deeper roots

- Sam told you he doesn't remember owning a childhood plushie, you fix that

- you open the door and close it with your foot, hands clinging to the bag you're holding to your chest after almost stumbling over. Sam's expression changes into a smile upon your arrival, kinda like a golden reriever. He gets up from the reasearch papers scatterred around the table no longer the center of his attention to greet you.

"Hey" the word 'sweetheart' almost sneaks out of his mouth but he contained himself with grace, god forbid he makes you uncomfortable (he's alot like you y'know? ). "Hi" you reply breathlessly due to your almost stunt and the fact that Dean took Baby out so you had to walk back to the motel in the humid weather of Washington. You take off your shoes and set the bag on the table, Sam's nosy self is itching to see what's inside. Before you open anything you make sure to peel off the hoodie you have on and rest it on a chair. "I got something but i need you to close your eyes and lay out your hands please." You start already bitting back a smile with a tinge of nervousness at what his reaction could be.

Yes, you got Sam a plushie. You got matching ones, the one for Sam is a brown moose with dark brown glass eyes that kept reminding you of him. The one you got for yourself is a same-zise moose plushie in your favourite color. What's even more cuter is that both of the plushies came as a package and they can stick their hands together with the magic of little pieces of square shaped tape on each their hands (hooves?). Sam is scared and excited at the same time. He will thank you for whatever you got him, he raised himself to be gratefull, it's just that growing up he learned and was usually met with dissapointment. John not showing up for his soccer game and neither Dean because he is hunting with him? Yeah he knows. Not even a call from his dad on his 21st birthday? Yeah he expected that. But he knows you, and the amount of times you have dissapointed him. (hint: zero)

So he does as you told him to. He extends his hand and turns it over, his other arm resting by his side. He closes his eyes and does not open them once. Sam was that kinda kid at the playground, so fair and by the rules it's almost suspicious. He can hear the noise of the brown paper bag crinkling and somehow imagine the sight of you smilling brightly, a sight that almost bribes him to open his eyes and see for himself. He focuses on the sound untill he feels the soft velvet material of the plushie in his hands. He doesn't even open his eyes yet he just furrows his eyebrows in confusion as his fingers pet the fabric of the stuffed animal.

You stand there, the biggest most nervous smile planted on your face as you wait for his verdict. "Sam, you can open your eyes now." you speak loud enough for him to hear, and he does open them, they glisten wet under the crappy motel room light. He has this mix of sadness and joy on his face at the same time as he cranes his neck to look down at the stuffed animal in his hands, he can envelope it entirely if he tried. You wish you could read thoughts right now, to make Sam open up his brain to you and show you how he feels about this, whether the reaction is negative or positive, you just want (need) to hear him speak, fuck, he can even yell at you if that is what he chooses to do (he wouldn't in a million years). Regret hits you like a hurricane after a few seconds of silence, that's the last thing you wanted to do, make Sam remember what a shitty childhood he had with just a stuffed animal, a fucking toy. The thought that this could come off as a reminder for him that's like 'Hey buddy, your childhood is so fucked up I felt sorry for you, here' didn't even occur you. All you wanted to do is give him something normal, to make him feel normal, a feeling he has been chasing all of his life. You bought two matching moose plushies with the thought that you're gonna match with your bestfriend, you're going to share some normalacy with your bestfriend in your world, your monsters are real world.

You wanted to build a time machine and rescue little Sam and Dean from the fucking monster John Winchester was. Yes, John Winchester loved his boys, but neglect and love don't mix. Leaving a 10 year old to look out for a 6 year old isn't love, taking your children with you to fucking hunt and kill fairy tale monsters isn't love. "Sam?" You call out quietly, nervousness already visible in your body language. Sam shots his head up at the mention of his name and most importantly the tone of your voice. He gives you a weak tight lipped smile (as if the sight would spare you having to worry about him, as if you don't feel the need to bang your head against a wall whenever you see Sam in any kind of pain) and wipes a tear that runs down his cheek with the cuff of his hoodie. "Sam- I'm sorry- I thought-" You justify yourself and attempt at swallowing the lump formed in your throat, you rub your sweaty palms on your jeans and feel like the biggest asshole in the world. You awkwardly take a step closer untill you take in consideration the idea that getting closer might be the last thing he needs right now so you step right back. Sam tears taste sweet, he can confirm it himself. The way you spent time and money going to provide him with something he was wrongfully stolen off of having when he was only a kid made him tear up in the spam of a few seconds. You asked, he answered, you felt sorry, he desperately wants you to comfort him, then you do something to make him feel appreciated/cherished. He glances at you and sees the state you're in. His legs instinctively take three long strides towards you and envelopes you in the most comforting embrace anyone has ever gave you. You don't need to be psychic or practice insane voodoo/hoodoo to know exactly how this made him feel, it's all in this hug. You hug him back and Sam starts rubbing circles with his index finger on your back, he is crying his eyes out and he's still comforting anyone but himself. You hear his sniffles as he agressively wipes his nose with his cuff. "Thank you" he croaks out, his tone hoarse and raspy. He rests his head on top of yours and you can feel him finally relax. You can also tell he has no intention of breaking the hug anytime soon but that is your last worry. You made Sam happy tonight and that's all it matters.

- you and Sam are the golden retriever + black cat duo the world needs. - grocery trips with him (he doesn't need anything, just wanted to go with you) that are fun and weirdly domestic. - it's all making jokes and finding eachother the snacks you usually eat untill someone bumps into him and HE apologizes. "Sorry" he says giving the dude that's shorter than him a tight lipped smile. The dude presses "Almost dropped my shit 'cause of you assh-" You cut him off by clearing your throat and making him turn around his face dropping as he notices your glare at him. "He said he was sorry." You chide (threaten) with a scarily blunt tone, you have no idea how someone can even dare to look the wrong way at Sam, he's too tall for his own good and he's built like a brick wall. "Whatever" the dude leaves scoffing , your expression softening as soon as your eyes settle on Sam. He has a stupid dorky look on his face and adoration in his eyes, his hands shoved in his jean pockets towering over you almost awkwardly. "Ugh. What is it today asshole day?" You joke breaking the silence, (yes, you're quoting kat stratford) Sam just laughs and nods, you could say it's Christmas and he would believe you. "Looks like it." He agrees, not even caring for that asshole that he could've handled himself just fine, he hunts monsters for a goddamn career. He just adores the way you jumped to take his side.

- expressing your wish to find or atleast thrift a brown carhartt jacket similar to Sam's, only for him to offer giving it to you whenever you wanna wear it.

- "S'okay you can wear it i don't mind, you just have to ask me before, yeah?" - he also can't stop blushing at the sight of you in his already baggy jacket appearing more larger on you.

- the jacket engulfs you in this sense of security and an addictive smell of Sam (his fav earthy cologne) - the way you're looking good, happy, and warm in his jacket makes Sam's heart skip a few beats. - Dean smirks and compliments you, having to take a double look to confirm it's infact Sammy's jacket on you "Looking good, Y/n" he smiles and sends Sam a wink you're to oblivious to notice but you do notice the tone he uses, replying back skeptically "Thanks?" but you shrug it off asking Sam if he wants to come with you to this fast food place to bring back dinner.

- When Dean's brain cells put 2 and 2 togheter and realizes you and Sam are absolutely pining for eachother he purposefully does alot of stuff so you're stuck spending time with Sam and vice versa. It's either an easy move to make you two go out/stay in or it's a geniusly absolutely malefically strategically thinked and mastered 50 step plan that has atleast 20 plan B's in case anything goes wrong but we all know he doesn't need them, the mission goes smoothly each time. if Winchesters are anything, it's stubborn, incredibly and stupidly stubborn so Dean is not giving up on making one of you confess to eachother and if you don't he might take matters in his own hands and scream it out loud enough for You and Sammy to hear.

- he is so eager, the first time you kissed him he automatically assumed he's your boyfriend. - "Is that any way to speak with your boyfriend?" With a jokingly hurt face and a dramatically placed hand on his chest when you're being too mean. - "As your boyfriend and your lore boy.." - "I'm Sam, their boyfriend.." when he's introducing himself to person he knows has certain intentions with you or somebody making you uncomfortable.

- you pulled a muscle in your shoulder while on a hunt and stubbornly denied anything ever hurted even when Sam asked. - you keep rolling your shoulder when Sam says "Looks like you pulled something alright. You probably shouldn't move too much, you'll just make it worse." You scoffed at that, no way Sam for real? I had no idea I had to do that, thank god a smart boy like yourself is right beside me. "Are you mansplaining to me how to let a pulled muscle heal?" You retort, mainly because of the pain partially cause mansplaining is unnecessary and ignorant. And when Sam thought he couldn't like you any more than he already does you proved him wrong. He only chuckled, amused by your snarky reply, even going as far as to apreciate your attitude. "I'm not mansplaining anything, I'm just stating facts. Even a five year old could tell you that overusing a muscle will make the pain worse." He teased back.

- He enjoys the intimacy between the two of you when there are jokes and certain things you and him can laugh about because you're both huge nerds.

- Bobby let's you borrow whatever books you want from his huge ass library (mans probably got illegal books there)

- Bobby and Dean give eachother knowing looks whenever you and Sam literally do anything togheter, you and him pretend not to notice, not even mentioning it.

- guys i wanna cuddle with Sam Winchester so bad it's not even funny anymore *sobbing while my eyeliner mixed with tears is running down my face*

- he's a big cuddlebug I am willing to bet all my life savings and my first born he is. - the way you feel so safe and comforted when his light pole build wraps two arms around you, holding you close, trying to get you impossibly closer. - his hugs are the same, tender yet firm reflecting on his gentle nature. - just spoons you when he finds you on the couch sleeping with a bunch of research papers scattered and dusty old books around you which he tosses aside, because he is too proud to ask for cuddles.

- you wake up in the middle of the night you have no idea what time is it, you have one missing sock, your throat is dry, and you feel an arm draped over your waist getting tighter around you the more you twist around. And that's when you hear it, it's right next to your ear, Sam's low sleepy hum as he stirrs behind you, nudging his face deeper into your neck. You have no choice but to lay there untill he wakes up 'cause there is no escaping.

a/n: again i'm posting this shaking, this took so long I was scared I wasn't gonna finish it. They are so long they might not classify as headcanons but i couldn't care less. The plushie one made me feel like hamilton while writting it lmaoo. Hope yall enjoyed!! 💞 feedback would be very much appreciated<33

[oddeyecir-cle]

 ✶ ˖  ࣪  📹 .  ぅ

lee donghyuck enemies to lovers fic ideas (all fics are haechan × reader)

haechan who is your rival coworker + secretly deadpool

for the sake of this story, lets assume deadpool does hide his identity. he works at a tech company and is constantly beefing with his coworker that he's lowkey attracted to. and the plot could maybe be something like you accidentally finding out his identity and then using that information to slightly/ kind of/ in a non-toxic way blackmail him. eg: making him run errands for you, asking to tag along on his quests as deadpool. then the pair gets closer through all the time they spend together etc etc.

✶ note : hyuck HAS to be the sassiest, funniest, most sarcastic, cocky human being ever. also include some spidermark maybe

haechan as the prince of the neighbouring kingdom

historical au. very basic ik but hear me out. your kingdom's glory and power is gradually draining and it's threatened by multiple rivaling kingdoms. that is when your mother, the queen, tells you there is no choice but to turn to hyuck's kingdom for help. you hate the idea but you know everyone's counting on you so you go through with it anyways. (this is historical so there could be a very cool scene of the reader riding on a horse in battle armour to neighbouring kingdom's palace themself but whatever). they're good, kind people so they agree to help you. they send over a part of their military along with some weapons and of course haechan himself, their most prized possession who, like you, is skilled with a sword and is a wise leader. there's lots of quarrels between the both of you when it comes to the topic of which one has more power over the other and about who should be leading the troops. but you soon put your animosity aside when you realize that you have to work as a team to win. (insert dramatic battle sequence with swords and arrows flying around. at one point, you and haechan lock eyes and suddenly he drops to the ground. the world starts to blur around you when you realize he's been stabbed in his back. you frantically rush to his aid but he falls limp in your arms. its now upto the writer to kill him there itself and end the story. very angsty, i love. or they could also save him somehow and give main characters the happy ending they deserve).

 ✶ note : sloooooowwwww buuuurn. i mean this should be a long ass series with 7k+ words per chapter. should be so heavy on the angst and the hate that it makes you wonder if they do actually end up loving each other in the end. please include sword fighting scenes with sexual tension i beg you. (im big on bollywood, can u tell).

haechan as a stranger/ tour guide you meet on a family trip

you've just gotten out of a 3 year long relationship after your boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend. things get worse when your family, unaware of your breakup, forces you on a 2 week trip to *insert destination of choice" . here you meet the annoying, sarcastic, a-little-too-happy-for-his-own-good donghyuck. he is with the group your family is touring with (him being the tour guide is a pretty cute plot too but it could kind of complicate things later) and instantly wins everyone over with his charm, except you of course. in classic hyuck fashion, he tries to keep getting your attention and eventually succeeds. his company helps ease the pain of the heartbreak he didn't even know about. its bittersweet when it's time to part ways. you realise after you come back to your college dorm that you never exchanged phone numbers and you fail to find him on social media as well. but fate has strange ways of bringing people together. which is why you cant stop smiling when crash into a certain someone during a regular grocery run.

✶ note : more on the fluff and less on the angst for this one. and maybe a dash of slice of life as well.

haechan as captain of the football team.

there is no actual plot for this other than the fact that you're a cheerleader and also his academic rival (there is no trope i love more than this). my vision for this is very 2000s romcom. ik this isn't a lot to work with but there could be some sub trope like fake dating mostly.

✶ note: nothing much just make it cute

+i have a few more ideas, will probably make a part 2

++if in the future, by some miracle, people do find these interesting enough to use, please dont forget to credit me!!

[bethberry]

be cautious

carl grimesxfem!reader

theme - slight angst to fluff

warnings - mentions of blood, cursing

word count - 853

you only had intentions of providing at least a little for the group. after all it had been around 3 months since they took you under their arms and kept you safe. one experimental and solo run was all it took for you to come back limping through the gates of alexandria.

your hands held on tightly to your thigh while you dragged yourself to the entrance of your home. whoever was guarding, you couldnt tell at this point, let you inside and immediately called for help.

a little squeak left your throat when a couple people came beside you to help you towards denise's house. the overwhelming sense of so many hands holding you up only made it harder to focus on anything else but the pain in your leg.

runs were usually easy when there were more people with you for protection. you didnt even go that far out from alexandria, only a couple miles. but three walkers cornering you in an already small gas station caused you to get a pretty bad stab in your leg.

you finally gained your vision back from blood loss once you were placed on a bed. eyes now focused, you saw sasha, aaron, and denise before you. your head darted around the room a little now that you could process simple shapes.

"what h-happened?" your voice came out soft, almost out of breath when a feeling of pressure came to the bleeding wound in your leg. denise had applied a bit of force to stop the bleeding with some gauze.

"dont know. you just came through the gates all bloody." sasha said. her hand on your shoulder while her eyes peered down to see how denise was doing. aaron had left to let maggie know you were hurt but alive.

also to let carl know.

around 15 minutes passed and your leg was wrapped up now. you were fast asleep and didn't even remember what had happened until you were oh so kindly reminded in your dream. Your body sprung up a little causing you to wince gently as you laid back down. once you realized you actually were awake, you noticed a familiar hand resting on your arm.

"carl..." you said lowly under your breath as if you only spoke to yourself. he was resting a little before his head lifted up a bit. he rubbed his eye and fixed his hat gently. he was silent for a good moment before you broke the silence.

"carl...why do you have that look on your face?' you questioned carefully. you knew carl would never actually get bad at you to the point where it causes horrible conflict but you felt nervous for some reason.

"you didn't even let me know that you were going east." he said quietly, avoiding eye contact so that he would stay at least a little upset. he was always taunted by your already damp eyes.

"i'm sorry. i didn't think it would be such a small building..." your hand found its way to his and he pulled away gently with a little sigh.

"its not about that...what if someone needed to go looking for you?" his voice was a little louder now, his words leaving in short-breathed huffs.

"i thought id be safer and back quick carl i-"

"just let someone know before-hand!" he almost shouted but in a whispered tone. "be more cautious. god..." now he spoke under his breath, refusing to look at you after realizing that he had snapped a little. the silence and little squeaks coming from your throat filled the awkward silence. although he couldn't see your face, he knew he had made you cry and he still couldnt bring his eye back up to yours.

you took a shaky breath, wiping some of the tears from your eyes and fiddled with your bracelet. the one you and carl made together back at the prison.

"im sorry-" he could practically hear your tears choking you back from speaking properly. his head shook vigorsly for a second before he sat up a bit, finally looking at you and bringing his hand up to your face.

'shit, i-im sorry. damnit i'm sorry...i yelled." he wiped a few of the tears himself. his hand now rests with yours again, his thumb rubbing back and forth quickly in an attempt to comfort you.

"i didn't mean to yell you know I didn't..." he said in a soft tone while holding your face a little closer to the nape of his neck. you only cried a little bit afterward then lifted your head up, looking at him while he wiped two more tears from your face. you sniffled once and held his finger between yours.

"i'll tell you next time. where i'm going," you spoke gently. he nodded in response. his internal panic slowly faded away when he heard your voice becoming less shaky.

he wished he never got upset at you like that. deep down he always tried to remind himself that you make mistakes.

"i love you okay?" his forehead pressed against yours hesitantly.

"i love you too."

guys this is just a little one-shot to get me back into writing.... i think I'm gonna work on some arcane content too, along with peace chapter two!!!!

tags: @carlsangel @zomb-core

pls lmk if you want to be on my tag list!!

[gabessquishytum]

SO I JUST RECEIVED THIS AD ON TUMBLR:

and now I'm thinking about how omega Hob is now of proper mating age (18-20, whatever floats your boat) and now he must participate in The Hunt.

The Hunt being a 24 hour event where alphas hunt for an omega mate by scent and skill alone. Wearing said outfit, ofc 😉

Hob's a smart omega, he's been prepping for The Hunt his entire life. Some omegas are happy to be caught by the first alpha who wants them, but not Hob. Hob wants a mate he can be feisty with, a mate who will really go the extra distance to chase and try to tame him. His fellow omegas think that's just asking for a mean and cruel alpha but Hob disagrees.

Enter Dream. Dream has been on many Hunts, but either he's never found a omega that smells right to him (or if you'd like angst, his previous mates didn't work out). But Hob. Dream smells Hob as soon as he steps onto the Hunting Grounds and he goes feral. He has no idea who this omega is or what they look like but he. will. have. them. He will murder his fellow alphas if he must.

Hob doesn't make it easy for Dream. They nearly tear apart the entire area with how ferociously Dream chases after Hob and how hard Hob fights not to be claimed. There's fallen trees, torn up grass, a few smashed rocks, destroyed flower beds, you name it. Long after everyone else has mated and gone home, Dream's still chasing Hob with just as much energy as he had the beginning of the hunt.

Finally, in the dead of night, Dream gets Hob pinned down, leashes him, then claims him. It's loud and messy and everyone else thinks Dream's murdering the poor omega but Hob is having a fantastic time.

OH YEAH IM EATING THIS. Absolutely love a completely unhinged tumblr ad by the way.

I can imagine Hob really enjoying/looking forward to these hunts. For an omega he's big and strong, on a par with most alphas. He's fast, he's a little bit feral, and he loves the thrill of the chase. No alpha has caught him yet - they all give up and go home before Hob has finished enjoying the game. All he ever hopes for is that one day, an alpha will come along who can actually hunt him down like he really deserves.

Dream is absolutely that alpha. He's relentless. He may not have huge muscles, but he's got stamina. He can run for just as long as Hob can, and even longer. He's utterly determined to get this delicious, fascinating omega who seems to be playing with him.

Hob is amazed to find that he actually runs out of breath and strength to run!! And by that point he really wants to be caught. He's thrilled when Dream pounces and tumbles them both down to the ground where they roll around in the dirt, biting and holding each other and exploring each other's scents. Hob gets to feel the thrill of getting leashed by his mate! He's so horny he's basically humping the ground to find relief, and Dream is already obsessed with him. HIS omega.

He holds Hob by the back of his neck and pushes him down, and watches as his legs fall open automatically. The scent of his slick is so much stronger, and the harder Dream holds Hob against the ground, the more aroused he seems to get. His attempts to escape from Dream’s hold are more like tests of strength which he really wants Dream to win.

And being claimed in the open air by his alpha is everything Hob has been dreaming of and needing. His body is a perfect sheath for Dream and he knows that he's coming across as slutty and eager, but he can't help canting his hips back against Dream to get more of his cock. Oh, and the knotting? It's a religious experience. Hob's sexy little outfit is torn to shreds and only the leash remains tightly grasped in Dream’s hand.

When the knot finally deflates and the cum is drooling down Hob’s thighs, they limp out of the hunting grounds with manic grins and big hearts in their eyes. Hob is on top of the world. His alpha is so strong and determined and he's gonna give so many babies and they're gonna be feral in the woods together every year to celebrate <333

[redcoralpot]

we NEED fluff of our boy glenn !!! /nf

like the aftermath of S6 EP3, male!reader comforting glenn after finding him traumatized from an certain act after the herd (unless you know the actual event im not tryna spoil anyone here)

and a lil canon divergence? like we and glenn get to talk enid in a respectful manner

hope that's enough for you to work with !! mwamwa!

Quick practice to help me recover from writer's block!!

Left to My Own Devices - Glenn Rhee x M! Reader

Summary: After Nicholas' unfortunate demise, Glenn is alone with his thoughts, but not for long.

Warnings: Blood/gore descriptions, violence, suicide, and death.

Word Count: 1.1K

-

Ten hours.

Glenn had been stuck under a dumpster for ten hours. What had been a deafening amount of shuffling and groaning had slowly trickled down to a few every once and a while, though he could tell at least one walker was feasting on Nicholas. 

His heart had never stopped pounding since he slid under the bin, a crude attempt at keeping his body and breathing under a tight hold, but exhaustion was starting to creep under his skin. Yet still, Glenn did not dare to relax. One squish… two squish, three– it was never ending. He doubted that Nicholas was even recognizable at this point, but he had to have known that before he put a gun to his head. Right?

On the opposite side of the dumpster, there were a pair of work boots, attached to stained jeans that covered any skin. It smelled disgusting; mud, blood, and rotting guts coming together to make an odor that was impossible to get away from. Glenn’s stomach grew uneasy, the image of his friend stained into his mind. Chances were that it was just a straggler from the main herd that had crowded the two of them before, but he couldn’t risk using his gun to get rid of it, not if the others were still within a mile. 

Glenn slipped a hand into his pocket, flicking a sturdy knife open in his palm. It was sharp enough to cut the tendons of its ankles, making it an easy kill, even for someone in his state. His jaw clenched, ready to strike. However, right before he raised his knife, movement caused him to pause. It was starting to stumble away, around the dumpster. Towards Nicholas. 

A thump, a gurgle, as if the walker fell on its knees in relief for the free snack. In any other situation, Glenn would have chuckled to himself. Through the crack between the asphalt and his face, he witnessed something similar; a corpse was on its side, facing him. Its eye twitched, completely limp, but it had nothing similar to the hefty shoes the other had. Sneakers, the kind every kid was required to have for gym class, only loosely hanging on to its feet. Glenn’s gaze followed as the boots firmly kicked the walker away from him, a deep grunt coming from the perpetrator. 

“Huh,” they said, crouching beside Nicholas’ body, “this doesn’t look good.”

He recognized that voice, back from Alexandria. Glenn briefly considered the prospect that this was a dream at best, a hallucination caused by exhaustion at worst. He ultimately decided against it. 

Glenn knew his voice was rough from dehydration and disuse, “Hello?”

“Rhee, is that you?” You perked up.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

You hissed, reaching a hand out for him to take, “What the fuck happened? Everyone thought you were dead!”

“There was a herd and Nicholas…” Glenn trailed off, bile rising in his throat. He couldn’t look at you, choosing instead to stumble onto his feet on his own. 

“Got caught?”

“Nah, something else.”

You eyed the gun besides his remains, a sense of understanding settling over your face, “Do you need to sit down?”

“We need to get away from here– did everyone else make it back?” 

“Not that I know of,” you hesitated, “but Alexandria was attacked while you were gone, by Wolves. I don’t recall seeing David, Annie, or Sturgess come back, and Betsy is in shock.”

Glenn bit his cheek, “Sturgess didn’t make it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but a creaking noise behind you made your head whip around. Perhaps instinctively, you moved your body in front of him as you scanned the area. Two dark eyes were peeking from around the corner, wide and scared, wisps of brown hair falling from the girl’s ponytail. Though your muscles were still tense, you lowered your weapon, clicking your tongue against your teeth.

“Enid.”

“Alexandria isn’t safe,” she whispered.

You shook your head, “So you followed me? That was at least ten times more unsafe than whatever went down back there.”

“I could’ve handled myself!”

“You’re thirteen or something, you can’t.”

“I’m sixteen–”

Glenn finally spoke up, “Being inside a walled community is always safer than going on your own.”

You patted his back, “We’re going to Alexandria and you’re coming with us.”

Enid seemed to know better than to argue, instead choosing to peel the gun out of Nicholas’ hands. The three of you set off, slipping through a hole in the wire fence, flies buzzing off of a familiar face. A stained piece of paper was laid inches from his fingers, the blood spread onto it dried into a crusty brown. You blocked the view from the other two, but Glenn was too observant for his own good at times. Suddenly, the bags under his eyes seemed more sunken, and he looked like a shell of the energetic Glenn you grew close to after the farm burned down. 

“Do you need some food?” you suggested, trying to keep his attention.

“I honestly don’t think my stomach can handle it, man.”

You peered at his pale face, “Well, the offer is always up; I stole some chocolate chip granola bars from a lovely bald man.”

“Morgan? He’s not even bald.” That got the tip of Glenn’s mouth to quirk upward.

“I can see his scalp shining from a mile away, don’t lie.”

Enid rolled her eyes, “There’s a difference between being bald and having a buzzcut.”

“Please, there’s a centimeter of a difference!”

“You stink.”

You shrugged, a piece of human intestines making a bloody trail behind you, “I had to blend in somehow.”

Her nose scrunched up, and a reminder of the predicament they were in made Glenn grimace. His limbs were starting to feel heavy, the sides of his vision fading in and out, his stomach gurgling– Glenn didn’t know how much longer he could keep going. He was not about to give up, unlike Nicholas, never like Nicholas. Nicholas whose body pushed them both to their deaths knowing only one would actually suffer from it– until there was a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. A spark of anger was the only thing he could muster up before an immense sadness washed it away. Your hands were calloused, firm, from being one of the most hardworking men in the community Glenn knew, constantly repairing the wall or training the incapable. 

While you were here, it would be okay. If anything at all, nowadays, Glenn could put his faith in that with full certainty.

-

Want to join the taglist?

@cannabrisano

[bonefall]

Now this had me thinking... Would Willowpelt die in the same way as canon (although to another creature im assuming since bb!badgers aren't as dangerous as they are in canon)? If she's getting kept around longer, maybe Cricketclaw is the one who sacrifices herself instead? That sounds like a fitting way for her to go, considering she couldn't protect her own siblings?

I feel like I should add a TM to anything that I'm working on in my drafts that has significant progress and is blog-plot-relevant, that will explain something exactly like this LMAO

Forgive me I am, at heart, a bear that eats half a salmon and then forgets I had a fish at all

Willowpelt's brush with death is staying, and is actually a bit plot relevant in Firestar's Quietus! I have a very specific scene which is actually totally written out-- actually fuck it, I'll just post it here

Context and narrative purpose of this scene:

Firestar is informed of a boar on the territory, and gathers a little scouting patrol to try and figure out what sort of hog it is.

VERY IMPORTANT SEGWAY. Because of how Willowpelt gets bitten here and Firestar loses a life saving Sorrelpaw, they all end up in the Cleric's den where Ferncloud is telling a story both to practice her new job as upcoming Educator and to comfort everyone.

The fact Willowpelt is not dead is how I get Littlecloud away from Runningnose and Firestar

Runningnose has a hunch, in this moment, that goody two-shoes little Firestar might be the perfect person to help Brokenstar, and teases the visions and revelations he's about to have

Establishes that boars are the new Big Bad Beastie of BB

Presents Sorrelpaw's epilepsy and demonstrates how it is a danger to her safety

(this is a lot of buildup but this is actually pretty short lmao)

So anyway before I let you go on to the readmore and a preview of Firestar's Quietus, no one takes Willowpelt's death here, and Willow is going to hang on for longer. I wanted to make sure I have a good amount of cats to kill off in the carnage of the White Hart's destruction.

Wherever Cricketclaw dies, it will be for a purpose. Either to show how bloody the TNP conflicts are, or in a greencough epidemic because I'm trying to make sure those aren't just "Kill a bunch of randos offscreen" disease anymore.

WILLOWPELT'S BOAR

The patrol is Sandstorm and Sorrelpaw, Willowpelt, Longtail and Sootpaw, and himself. It's just supposed to be for scouting, hence why the apprentices are coming along.

Unfortunately the hog has other plans, lunging out of a bush and going for Sootpaw

Willowpelt jumps in the way and gets bitten instead

Sorrelpaw acts quick, slashing its sensitive nose, drawing its attention and bolting as fast as she can

RIGHT as she crosses the Thunderpath, her body goes limp and she falls to the ground

She is having an absence seizure, and fallen flat on the road

The hog is hot on her heels, bowling after her, when a monster screeches to a halt out of nowhere

The hog is frozen in the headlights, Firestar bursts into action to pull Sorrelpaw out of the road

(i hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums) BUMP BUMP

The boar and Firestar have been hit by, have been struck by, an automobile

When he sees StarClan, they're about to greet him with love. But their faces turn to shock and fear, the scenery becoming sinister and trees falling down.

A fifth oak tree is crashing down towards them. Firestar stares at it, dumbstruck.

Just before it strikes him, his eyes snap open

Firestar resurrects with a burst of energy, dragging Sorrelpaw off the road and into the safety of a fern on the ShadowClan side

The humans are coming out of the car to examine the boar they struck, but Firestar doesn't have time to consider that or his vision.

Littlecloud's head pokes out of the foliage and he springs into action, checking them both for injury. Breathless, Firestar points behind him and rasps, "Willowpelt!"

Littlecloud nods and bolts across the road.

Runningnose saunters out from a different angle-- one where he would have been able to see the road. Everything that happened.

His gaze is unsettling as ever, pausing, eyeing the leader up and down.

He starts tending to Sorrelpaw, then mumbles,

"Brave of you."

"It's what any leader would have done."

"No. It's what you always do."

Firestar doesn't know how to respond to that, but he's glad Runningnose isn't staring at him anymore.

But continues, "You will learn terrible things in the days to come, Firestar, and StarClan will not answer the questions that find you. If you seek the truth, meet me by the mothermouth on the night after the next gathering."

Sorrelpaw is leaning up now, her eyes dazed and confused, as if she's trying to figure out what happened.

[angelmichelangelo]

*while visibly sobbing with happiness* KAPPA'S CONSTELLATION IS BACK??? oh mannn me and my ninjaturt friend are so hyped for all the Hurt you'll bring us this new year, fyi. if prompts aren't full, “You did so good. Don’t worry, you-you did so good.” with 2k12 leo's big brother complex guilting the hell out of him while mikey's hurt but mikey's just deliriously happy his brother is proud of him :"")

and if you're in a 2k3 mood instead or are already writing that duo, “Shit. Shit, that’s a lot of blood.” and/or “Get away! You’re hurting them!” for mikey and raph on a mission. raph's gruff mannerisms shifting to him straight up yelling when help *does* come. aaaaargh im sick!!!!

happy writing!

SORRY THIS TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET AROUND TO!! i appreciate these fic prompts with my whole heart, just know i plan on filling both of these but here is the first one i put a little spin on it if you don’t mind :3 ENJOY, FRIEND!! 💗

x

When the gunshot rings off in the back of the darkened alleyway, the sound of it reverberating against slick, wet brick; the bullet zipping through the short distance between the nozzle of the gun and in through Mikey’s shoulder, it makes everyone jump.

“Oh, shit,” the Dragon utters with disbelief, weapon clattering on the ground right beside where Leo now lay, sprawled out, dazed and confused before he has the sense to kick the thing away with his heel, sending it skittering towards Donatello who kicks it back even further all whilst Raph gets to work on the poor sucker that fired the shot with a crack of his knuckles.

Mikey kind of just stands there for a moment, his arm limp and unmoving at his side, as a trail of crimson slowly and steadily leaks out of the bullet hole now ripped right through the scales and tissue and muscle of his shoulder.

He gawks at it, eyes widening with his cocktail of shock and slight panic as it spits out more blood against green.

By the time the other guy is unconscious under the crunch of Raph’s fist colliding against bone, Leo has scrambled to his feet, with Donnie not far off at his heels to get to their little brother.

“M’fine,” Mikey is quick to assure them both as they simultaneously start to flap. “Went right through I think.”

With a quick inspection from Donnie, it would appear to be the case, more red leaking down the back of his bicep, pooling sticky wet in the crevices of his shell grooves.

“Damnit,” Donnie scoffs, already rummaging about in his belt for supplies of some sort, but comes up short with a frustrated scowl. “Come on,” he’s urging him on. “Let’s get you home.”

The gang member is tossed into the pile of leaky, stinking trash bags, landing across them with a soft oof from where he remains barely conscious, limbs ragdolling where Raph lets him fall.

It’s both Leo and Donnie that shoulder their brother on the walk home, even when he jokes that he has full use of his legs, thank you very much, Leo doesn’t let up, allowing him to rest his weight against his side with his good arm slung around his shell until they arrive home, Raph leading the way, rubbing over sore, overused knuckles with his fingers.

“Pain? Scale of one to ten.” Donnie is already asking as they walk him through to the lab, and Leo feels his veins tighten when Mikey drops heavily into the plush little office chair with a tired little wheeze grazing past his front teeth.

“Six,” he says, and then because he’s Mikey, he goes on to say: “Actually. Six point four two. But if I do this,” he says, gingerly lifting his wounded arm upwards until he can’t anymore, wincing despite his grin. “It’s like, at a steady six point four two eight.”

Donnie has already gotten his first aid box laid out on the table before them, leveling him with a deadpanned expression only really truly reserved for him.

“So just a six, then?”

Mikey’s bright eyes catch Leo’s where he stands in the doorway still, beaming at him with his usual mischievous mirth about him and says,

“Well, yeah, that’s how math works. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t hit your head too hard during the fight, Dee.”

It takes no time at all for Donnie to patch their little brother up, telling him about fifty million times in the space of just a few mere minutes to stay still whilst he attempts to stitch him up both ways on the entry and exit wound.

“Think it will scar?” Mikey is asking him when he’s done, twisting around to admire his brother’s handiwork rather excitedly.

Donnie sets his medical tape away and clips the box shut sharply. “Eh. Possibly. Does it matter?”

Mikey is lifting his gaze up again to search for Leo. Still grinning. Still finding the entire situation just hilarious.

“If it’s from a kickass gunshot wound then yeah, duh,” he says likes it obvious, drawing out a long suffering sigh from Donnie who simply chooses to walk away, possibly in search of Raphael to tend to bruised, split knuckles, leaving just Leo and Mikey alone in the lab, the thrum of the algae pool the only sound to fill the room until Mikey hops up off chair and inspects his shoulder once more with round eyes.

“Wicked,” he says with a breath.

Because Leo’s little brother would think being accidentally shot in the shoulder would be cool. He would want a scar out of the whole ordeal because it was for sure something that he was going to milk for possibly until the very end of time and then some.

Baby blues skirt upwards, catching Leo’s watchful, unwavering gaze, and suddenly his smile is faltering, and the excitement glimmering behind his eyes dims slightly, and he takes a calculated step forward.

“Hey.” He says, voice steady. “Leo. You good, bro?”

Leo swallows, or at least he tries to. It’s like he’s sunk a golf ball into the back of his throat, all hard and lumped up and refusing to budge, strangling out his vocal cords when he tries to say as normal as possible,

“Hm? Oh yeah. I’m fine.”

Mikey doesn’t look convinced, and I’m hindsight, Leo should have known that busting out the dreaded F word would have tipped off his baby brother senses because he takes another step closer and fixes him with a Look, capital L.

“I mean. It was a pretty close call back there, huh?” His little brother says, offering him a one armed shrug. “But… but we’re all good.”

His mouth lifts into the tiniest of grins. “Raph had fun beating the snot outta that guy at least.”

Leo feels his stomach lurch. Mikey had… Mikey had pushed him out of the way. He’d… he’d taken that bullet for him as it’d zipped through the air. If he’d maybe been an inch to the left, or if the guy had slightly better aim…

He shudders, something icy taking place underneath his skin where it doesn’t want to leave, setting frost into his veins, he recognises his hands are shaking maybe a split second too late, because Mikey gets there first.

“Lee,” his voice soft, calming, all the things that should in theory, pull him ashore from his drowning panic and keep him anchored, but all Leo can think of is: I let him push me, I let him get hurt because of me.

The panic attack has already begun before Mikey can do anything more to chase it off, but he can close the distance between them, take Leo’s hands up in his and sink them to the floor where they sit, cool metal pressed beneath his legs, a warm thumb working slow circles over the backs of his knuckles.

“I saw that the new Thai place on 46th opened up finally,” Mikey says, his voice feels like a memory where it kind of just hangs above Leo’s consciousness, boring holes into the wall with his hard stare. “I think we should check it out some time. They do that khao pad that you like, y’know?”

Leo gulps, drinking down stale air to settle heavy in his lungs.

Fingers wrap around his and squeeze. “You did so good,” his little brother whispers to him, voice quiet yet so loud in how confident it was. “Don’t worry about me. You did so good.”

That breaks Leo’s frozen resolve, blinking, warmth is brought up to his waterline yet he doesn’t let them spill just yet as he forces words up past flattering teeth.

“Of course I worry, idiot.” He doesn’t mean to say it so sharply, wincing at the shape of the words as they leave his mouth, crowding under the hold of his brother, whom just laughs with a breezy feel to it and clings to him tighter.

“I know,” Mikey assures him gently. “But we could go in circles with the whole blame game here, bro. You know that, don’t you?”

And it was true; he was better off not getting into the trap of bouncing the blame back and forth off themselves if he didn’t want to waste an almost perfect afternoon.

So he allows for Mikey’s fingertips to trace shapes and a flurry of words across the back of his hand until his breath evens out and his chest finally stops its spasmic rhythm to allow air back into his lungs.

When they get up off the floor, Raph and Donnie re-emerge, looking nonplussed as to why their other brothers were peeling themselves off the tiles with a series of over exaggerated groans and grunts.

“There’s that old horror flick playing on TV,” is all Raphael suggests; with a quick glance, his knuckles already tended to with a thin strip of gauze. It was all code for two words:

Turtle pile.

Like telepathy, it was unknown how all three of them just knew what it was Leo needed in that moment as he shook the leftovers of his anxiety out from his limbs and patted his little brother gently on the lip of his shell before following them all out towards the lounge, where a black and white movie and a nest of blankets was sure to await him.

And later that night when the credits roll and there’s warmth now lingering at Leo’s fingertips instead of that bitter, awful cold, and he’s got two brothers dozing off at his side, and one near enough asleep fully, nestled in beside him, he hears his little brother speak up from where he was snug beneath his blanket,

“I’m alright, Leo,” he tells him, and when Leo glances towards him, he watches his eyes flutter shut, his face relax and his body sag against him with a blissful sleep that awaited him.

And as Leo watched on, letting the credits come to an end, for once he could shut off his anxious, rabbiting mind, and let the words sink in to truly believe them.

[crazystargirl]

Hiii, i'm so glad that you are feeling better!

Idk if you write for him or not, but if you do, can you do an ethan x reader fic? Where yn finds out the ethan is ghostface and confronts him and he gets ashamed and apologizes but when she tries to comfort him quinn andofficer bailey show up. quinn stabs yn as officer bailey explains that she was a liability as ethan sobs on the floor. oh and i want yn to die lol

you can add more if you'd like, i'm requesting this at three in the morning and my hand is beginning to cramp so that is all i will be asking for.

i love your writing so much! i'm sorry about the toxic relationships, i'm glad you're doing better now!

too bad

pairing ! - ethan landry x fem!reader 

word count ! - 0.6k

a/n ! - OMFG MY EYES LEGIT POPPED OUT WHILE READING THE REQUEST HELP 😭 ive only written angst once before so this might be the shittiest thing ever

your whole world was current crashing down

it started on wednesday night, you went to your boyfriend's house after a long day of classes only to find him fucking dead

literally he was on the bed, throat slashed and bleeding out all over the comforter

you stared at the scene in horror and then noticed something on the ground

it was a small pocket knife and it was the exact same one your best friend ethan had always showed you

so after a few days, once the whole news that your boyfriend was murdered, you went over to ethan's house

you were now here in ethan's bedroom and ethan sure as hell knew something was up

"y/n/n what's wrong?" ethan said, confused but continued stroking your hair as you laid on his bed, throwing a pillow up and catching it over and over again

you sit up looking him straight in the eye but when you spoke your voice was somewhat shaky

"ethan…i found your pocket knife at my boyfriend's house…the same night he was murdered" you say, holding out his pocket knife

"shit that's nothing" ethan says trying to grab it from you but you put it back in your pocket

ethan sighed and sat back down and took your hands in his

"look y/n i didnt want you to find out like this but im one of the ghostfaces" ethan says, unable to look you in the eye

you're shocked but probably not as much as you should've been, this has all happened to you before when you found out amber was ghostface

unknown to you and ethan, quinn had snuck into the room, positioned behind you before stabbing you right in neck, then under the rib, then in the feet so you were unable to run, not like you'd be able to anyway

you screamed out in pain at every stab as ethan desperately tried to get you away from quinn and clutching you, quietly sobbing as he saw the light that he had once adored leave your eyes

"what the fuck did you do that for?!" ethan yells at quinn, still clutching your limp body

"i didn't much care for her to be honest, she seemed like she was just there since you looked so pathetic" quinn said, flipping the knife

"for fucks sake ethan you were desperately pinning for her while she had a boyfriend so i took care of her for you!" quinn says gleefully

ethan turned to the door as his father came in taking one look at ethan clutching you and just scoffed

"she was a liability ethan, she was bound to end up dead at some point. not only that but she distracted every damn time" wayne said as he walked over to quinn

"plus don't get mad at quinn, i asked her to kill y/n since i knew you wouldn't have the strength to and if we plotted her death with you around you would've flipped out"

ethan sat there, still holding you and even holding his hands over your ears as if he could stop you from hearing anything his dad was saying

"get out…get the fuck out of room both of you!" ethan yelled at his sister and dad

quinn scoffed and wayne came over to ethan's bed to take y/n's corpse but ethan gave him such a cold stare that he left the room with quinn

"what the actual fuck is wrong with them" ethan muttered into your head, stroking your hair as if that mightve brought you back but in the end he knew he'd have to bury you at some point

too bad wayne and quinn didn't know ethan was going to anything to make sure they paid for killing his y/n

taglist ! - @xyzstar, @gwenlore, @dizscreams, @kaesworldxx, @urmomcomsiimiamour, @nonniesworld, @chemtr4ilz, @abodyhasbeenfound, @phsychobanana

lmk if you want to be added/removed !

©crazystargirl || do NOT copy or repost without my permission

[vulture-jack]

been fishing around half my life to see if the amount of pain im in is normal and finally at 30 having a doctor be like "no, and im sending you to a specialist because you're young and thats abnormal" almost felt like I was getting something I didn't deserve

all i ever got from family members was "lol wait till your're older", "welcome to getting old", or at best "it runs in the family" without a word that i should maybe seek help instead of just gritting my teeth and bearing the agony i was in because THEY never did anything about it. nobody was curious? like god if a friend told me they were feeling what I'm feeling I'd tell them to bring it up to their dr at least. Why did it take me so long to think this was important? I felt like such a baby. Other people have it worse. Maybe everyone is in this much pain and can just. Handle it.

why didnt anyone see me wincing, limping, and looking for anywhere to sit down 3 or 4 hours into a day out at 14 years old and SAY SOMETHING other than "have you tried insoles" like YES. IVE TRIED INSOLES.

I will say in the last year I have had at least one or two family members be like "yeah it might be That and you should go" and that. Meant a lot. At the end of the day I had to learn that I'm an adult and I have to advocate for myself now, and I don't need permission from the people in my life to be in Enough Pain to ask for help. But like god if they took me seriously when I was a kid maybe I wouldn't have spent so much of my life in pain wondering whether or not I'm just a baby and everyone else is handling it better than me. Because thats how I was made to feel.

At a certain point I stopped telling people how much and how often it bothered me. It became a Me problem and something I had to put up with. If i didnt, I was disappointing people. I felt shame every time I tried to see if others my age shared my experience. Like I was revealing that I'm actually this weakling who cant handle Normal Pain.

But like tldr I guess if I could boil it down is, if a young person says theyre in a lot of pain, don't belittle it because of their youth, show concern BECAUSE of their youth. Don't laugh and tell them itll get worse. Don't dismiss them because they haven't "earned" YOUR aches and pains.

I don't know if the specialist I'm going to will be able to help me. I hope so. I hope its what I think it is. I know that its a good possibility that I won't get an answer. But man a doctor not needing any convincing, just listening to me and saying "Thats concerning for your age" and taking action to help me? Life changing on its own.