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betterfettered · 11 months

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Bruh can I be honest and say your Yan! Leviathan kinda scares me because Levi already lives rent free in my head and I kinda don’t wanna know what would happen if he figured it out?

I’m literally not joking about leviathan straight up living inside my brain rent free, like he actively takes up a shit ton of my thoughts enough for me to get the Tetris effect when I sleep.

And idk why but something tells me that if he knew that I’m practically obsessed with him, I wouldn’t be touching grass or seeing anyone else ever again for my entire existence.

Hey anon!! I am sorry this took so long, it got really long (3k words!!) and kind of went in its own direction hahaha. I hope you like it!! It turns out that you were right, and no one will ever find you in his clutches LOLL Let me know what you think?

(AFAB!reader x AMAB!yandere)(Plus size reader💖🫡)(noncon)(stalking)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(sort of kind of an AU but not really?)[This is fetish content and rape and stalking are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Your reaction was strange to Leviathan because he'd imagined it over and over again in his head no less than a thousand times but had not been able to divine what you actually reacted like. In his mind when he'd intentionally spilled his drink on himself you'd make a little surprised noise or say "oh no!" or laugh, but in reality you just frowned, your eyebrows lifting in shock.

The important part, however, you still did: you turned to your bag, rifling through it for some napkins, and offered them to him like it was nothing, like making his heart jackrabbit to the point of nearly shattering was nothing. He snatched them quickly so that you wouldn’t see how his hands shook in anticipation.

Okay, next say thank you, he said to himself and tried his hardest but was unable to pry his lips open or make eye contact with you or even breathe. When the elevator reached the floor that the both of you lived on, he sprinted from the elevator to get to his door, spilling plenty more cherry slushy on himself in the process. He could barely get his hands steady enough to get the key into his door, but the second he was inside and had slammed the door behind him he tossed his soiled jacket and the half empty slushy to the ground and hurried into his bedroom, dropping on his knees in front of his shrine of you.

Well, it wasn’t a shrine just yet. It was too small – he had only the things he could salvage from your trash, like an empty lipstick tube, a plastic fork from some takeout, a debit card statement listing all of your purchases six months ago. This was the first thing you had ever given to him, though, the first gift with your scent and blessing on it. He shut his eyes and held the napkins up to his nose, inhaling deeply and summoning the image of you to his mind.

Leviathan focused on your eyes, thinking about how your gaze meeting his meant that you were not looking at anyone else and, he imagined, not thinking about anyone else. It didn’t take long for the memory to become a fantasy: he imagined you looking at him still, but now with your bottom lip caught between your teeth out of sheer lust for him. Reaching into his nightstand for lube, he imagined your outfit, which was the standard button down and pencil skirt combination that was something of a uniform for office workers. It was unremarkable but for the way it hugged the soft protrusions of fat on your body. He liked to imagine that your larger size made you unpopular on the dating market, so he would (in his fantasies and occasionally dreams, when he was lucky) be the first to touch and squeeze and lick you – he’d be the only one that you granted such access to, because he and only he was that special to you.

He placed the stack of napkins on his bed and pushed his face down into them to free both hands to undo his belt and slather his cock with lube. Even just touching his shaft made him shiver and clench his jaw, but he didn’t start pumping just yet because his fantasy was still incomplete. First, he needed you to turn to him in his mind, walking towards him until you had sandwiched him up against the wall, every plump part of you pressing up against him like a full bodied hug. Then, when he nearly collapsed with desire both in reality and in his mind, you reached a hand down to his pants, running your hand back and forth over his cock and looking up at him and only him. Only then did he begin stroking, murmuring your name to himself and clutching his bed. It was only a minute or two before he reached his peak and came so hard into his other hand that he became incoherent, his own moans shoving your name out of his mouth to take its place.

Once he caught his breath and the immense pleasure receded, he was filled with a longing that made his eyes begin to tear, his mouth pressing together as he tried to hold himself together. He needed you. At this point, his fantasies were almost as torturous as they were alluring. Just imagining was not enough and never could be, because while he was here with you, you were off thinking about or talking to someone else. He needed the entirety of you and he needed to show you with his body just how much he worshipped you, the same way he did in his mind every night before sleeping.

His hands were slick with cum and lube, so he shut his eyes for a moment once more and rubbed two fingers into the other palm, imagining that it was your tummy covered in his cum instead, but could only tolerate the fantasy for a few seconds before climbing to his feet to go clean up both himself and the mess he’d made in the entryway. He spent the rest of the night hugging a pillow on his couch and watching the old Ruri-chan OVAs from his favorite season and trying to hold back the tears pressing against the backs of his eyes.

Leviathan did not see you again for another week – perhaps you had been working early or late. When you once again met in front of the elevator, he felt downright giddy and reflexively covered his face with the back of his hand, but the glee turned to pure shock when you turned to him and said “Oh, happy birthday, Levi!”

What he did not know was that the day before, a pair of gentlemen (one ginger, one with hair graying only at the tips) had mistakenly knocked on your door. The shorter one pointed and released a party popper right at your face, and the taller one held out a cake that had bites taken directly out of it. Surprise! They had said, and then the three of you were surprised indeed, because you were not who they were expecting and you had not been expecting anything but still could never have imagined this would happen. They asked for a Leviathan, you pointed them next door, and the one with the frosting on his face apologized around another bite he had taken right out of the cake. The other apologized, too, but distractedly, as he was preoccupied with sadness that he had wasted his only party popper on you instead of his brother.

No, Leviathan was not aware of any of that, because Beelzebub couldn’t control himself around the cake and Belphegor wanted a new party popper, so they gave up and planned to come back tomorrow, the actual day of, without saying a word to him. If Leviathan could have spoken in that moment, he would have asked you how you knew, but he could not, so instead he stared at the ground and tried to figure out how you knew. He didn’t generally think of himself as disposed to illogical thinking, so when it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, you had been just as taken with him as he was with you, he figured it was the most obvious conclusion.

He imagined that you had gone home after giving him the napkin and touched yourself, too.

Maybe you also had a shrine for him in your home, and one of the things in it told you when he was born.

“Have I said something wrong…?” you asked, eyeing his stunned expression.

It was all he could do to shake his head, because you had actually said the best possible thing that you could have. Was he dreaming?

When the elevator arrived to the right floor, he allowed you to get off first and then trailed behind you, not even noticing the antlers starting to sprout out of his head and the scales started to spread across his skin. It was as though he was mesmerized by you and couldn’t do anything but follow.

You got to your door, opened it, and then cried out when you felt his full weight against your back, pinning you to the ground. His tailed whipped out and slammed the door shut behind the two of you, and he pressed his nose into your hair, inhaling and shivering a little, feeling his common sense melting away to be replaced with only intoxicating lust.

“What are you doing?!” You demanded, your voice wavering with fear. “Get off of me right now!”

He didn’t reply, only focusing on how the way you were struggling was rubbing your ass up against his cock and making him pant. Was it really possible that you were here beneath him, all his for the rest of your lives together? Distantly he wondered why you were struggling if you were obsessed with him, but brushed it away as not important.

“Please, just get off of me and leave,” you said, your voice becoming thick with the tears starting to pour down your face.

He got to his knees, putting one hand on your shoulder and one beneath your tummy, pulling both upwards to flip you onto your back. You only resisted for a few seconds before allowing him to turn you over onto your back, your shimmering wet eyes meeting his crazed ones and drawing another sob out of you. This did not seem to stop him, as he almost immediately rested back on top of you and pressed his lips to yours, jamming his long tongue into your mouth before you had a chance to clench your jaw. You gagged a little at the length of it, long enough to reach the back of your tongue, and tried to push him off of you, which he merely ignored until you stopped.

He only pulled away and sat up when he noticed your elbow working against your side, at which point he wanted to observe what you were doing with your hand. You were holding your cell phone and trying to type something into it, but as soon as you saw him notice it you pulled it closer to your face, typing as quickly as possible. He felt his heart sink: even though you were in love with him, you were thinking of someone else while he was kissing you. Despair settled over him until it gave way to a sort of panicked jealousy: would you ever unlearn this? Could he trust you to commit to only him? You were going to be his first (and already had been his first kiss)…was he really ready for this? This would be your first fight with each other as a couple.

While he was thinking, he snatched the phone from you and crushed it in his hand, tossing the broken bits aside and pouting.

“Who were you going to call?”

“N-no one.”

“O-okay, well then! Who were you g-gonna text?!” he asked, being able to hear how pathetic he sounded himself.

Try to sound like Lucifer! He told himself, and sat up a little straighter. You can do this, you can do this.

“Th-that…was cheating,” he said, and then tried making his voice a little deeper. “Don’t think of any one else. Ever again….uh, d-do I make m-myself c-clear?”

Complete fail, uggghhhh

It took a moment for you to calm yourself enough to speak.

“Please just let me go,” you repeated around sobs. “I won’t call the police or anything. I won’t even mention it to my friends. Just…please don’t....”

He climbed to his feet at that, though he didn’t leave you even a moment to think your pleas had worked on him before he wrapped you up in his tail, lifting you off of the ground and above his head. You cried out and struggled, kicking him with your feet a few times until he held you further away, but he paid no mind and instead locked and deadbolted the door behind the two of you, then walked deeper into your apartment, checking all of the doors in his path until he found your bedroom. He wanted to pause to look around and examine every last bit of you that the room contained, but he was so hard that it was starting to hurt, so he darted over to your bed and slammed you down onto your back, unwrapping his tail so he could sit down, push your legs up and put them on either side of his waist.

Unfortunately, you still had not learned your lesson about struggling, so he clamped his tail down on your neck to hold you still, tightening it when you started to move around too much, and grabbed both of your wrists to hold them beside your head where the end of his tail could wrap around them, too.

You were talking, or maybe just crying, but he couldn’t focus on that. His attention was completely absorbed by his cock pressing into the heat of your core and your writhing body.

He reached out with shaking hands and undid the buttons of your shirt, taking a while not because he was savoring it but rather because he was trying to undo them too impatiently with his uncoordinated fingers and not being that successful to the point that he ripped the last few buttons open in his haste. His hands pressed down into your plush stomach and then, after a moment of enjoying your inviting softness, he ran them upwards until he held your tits in both hands, squeezing them in a circular motion the way he had seen in a few hentai movies and then pushing his fingers into your bra to touch your bare skin and catch your nipples between his fingers, pinching them until you gave a short whimper that made his cock twitch. He slid his hands out and yanked the bra down to reveal them, then leaned down into your chest and shoved his face right in the center of it, squishing your tits against either side of his head while his hips started to buck against yours, greedily craving the friction between you. His face felt so hot at this point, and yet was no match for the warmth of lying there against your heart.

While he’d had plans to lick and suck your tits and maybe bite them a little to see if he could get you to make noise again, he didn’t think he could wait any longer to penetrate you, he sat up and shoved your skirt upwards around your waist until he could reach your panties, then pushed your legs together in front of him with his arms so he could pull them off of you (and stash them in his pocket). He felt so relieved that he’d only worn joggers today and didn’t need to bother with a belt or a zipper, so there was only a second between your panties being removed and the head of his cock pressed right into the folds of your pussy.

“Don’t! I’m begging, please don’t!” you wailed.

“But y-you’re wet,” he observed, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to spread your juices.

You didn’t reply fast enough; he lost patience and shoved into you with a desperate whine. It felt even better than he had imagined day after day all of this time, so he didn’t move at first to try and avoid cumming immediately. Instead, he reached for your hands, freeing them from his tail so he could weave his fingers into yours and press them into your sheets on either side of your head.

“L-look at me,” he panted, tightening his tail around your neck when you didn’t obey. “I s-said to look at me.”

It took a few seconds for you to run out of air and begin struggling to breathe, but you did eventually look at him, instantly making his heart pound. Suddenly, he felt unbearably shy, so he buried his face in your neck as he started to fuck you, slowly but insistently, his pelvis grinding up against yours like he couldn’t get deep enough inside of you, his moans muffled beside your face. Feeling your breasts jolt against him with each thrust he couldn’t help but start to fuck you a little harder, too, just to feel them bouncing beneath him.

He didn’t think to tell you when he was about to cum, since his mind was completely whiting out from the pleasure and his moans sounded frantic and irregular because he couldn’t quite control the sounds he was making, so you only knew that he was filling you when he stopped suddenly, releasing your hands to grab your hips hard enough to hurt and pull you as close into him as possible. His entire body shook against yours for a while. Once he relaxed, still panting but not digging his fingers into your flesh as hard any more, his entire frame draped over yours with exhaustion.

Ten minutes later, he finally sat up to address you, lovingly stroking your hair and cheek.

"That was so much better than in my head. I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life.

“Um, I don’t think you finished, right? S-sorry, I’m…anyway, I’ll read a little more about how to satisfy you on reddit! Then I’ll show you what I learned. We have a lot of time for me to practice until I get it right. I'll definitely make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“Just let me go,” you murmured, out of tears.

“I never will,” he answered, his voice so resolute that it grew steady even if for only a moment as he promised that. “I’m in l-love with you, a-and you’re going to love me. And only me, no one else. If you think of anyone else, I’ll…I’ll hurt them. And you, too.”

Perhaps you weren’t out of tears after all, as the words made you start to cry again.

This time, he pulled you upwards and wrapped you in his arms while still inside you, grateful for the opportunity to feel as though he was taking care of you. His mind was already starting to wander to plans of where you both would live, how he could punish you to make sure you never spoke to any one else again, and what he would tell his brothers and closest gaming buddies about the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Dreams really did come true. The two of you only had happily ever after in store for you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #betty fetty #tw noncon #cw noncon #tw: noncon #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #obey me levi x you #obey me levi x reader #yandere smut #omswd smut #obey me smut #obey me levi

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eddies-ashtray · 10 months

Text

SCARS ♡ Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

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Main Masterlist ♡ Blurb Masterlist

Synopsis: About three months after the demo-bat attack on Eddie, the scars left on his body by the bats remain a source of great insecurity for him. You try to convince him of his beauty in any way you can.

WC: 3.0K

Category: Hurt/comfort & fluff + a dash of smut (18+, MINORS DNI).

Content: Established relationship, mentions and light description of Eddie’s scars, discussion of Eddie being insecure about his scars, reader comforts Eddie, body worship, praise, lots of kisses, teasing.

A/N: This is an AU in which they’ve succeeded in killing Vecna, Eddie still got attacked by the demo-bats, but lived and his trailer is also still intact. Happy reading!

♡*♡*♡

Eddie was like a furnace all year round. In the winter months you’d snuggle up next to him on the couch while you watched movies, often tucking your cold feet underneath his warm thighs, you’d stay tucked under his arm soaking up his warmth as you walked into school together. And when arriving at his trailer and escaping from the chilly December bite, you’d rush straight into his arms, spending a minimum of two minutes making him warm you up.

The point is, the boy ran hot. And while this was an advantage for the both of you when the temperatures dropped (though mostly you–since it gave you an excuse to glom onto him like a koala to a tree), the summer months were hell for him. To compensate, he frequently wore his frizzy hair up and sported short athletic shorts and tank tops, cut off t-shirts, and often no shirt at all if he could help it. Much like his warmth in cooler temperatures, this was also a benefit to you–albeit in a very different way.

Although he took the appropriate measures to ensure that he stayed as cool as possible throughout the summer, this did not spare you of his complaining. He really tried to resist, but when there were 90 degree days you’d spend in your friends backyards or strolling around the zoo or riding bikes to the corner store for slushies, he’d slip into the habit.

But this summer something changed. The complaining suddenly stopped. There was no dramatic sighing or fanning himself with homemade paper fans. No begging to find someplace with air conditioning, or at least a place to sit in the shade. No theatrical comments about how he was about to die any second from dehydration. Nothing.

And while you were glad of the reprieve from his complaining—which, in all honesty, didn’t bother you that much anyway—, you knew something was up. Especially since the absence of his complaints was also accompanied by an abandonment of his usual summer attire.

He traded in tank tops for long-sleeves and those tiny, red athletic shorts (that you thought made his ass look spectacular) for sweatpants or jeans. Like the weather had no effect on him anymore. But you knew it did; you could see how flushed his face would become and the beads of sweat forming on his brow even while seated in front of a fan in his trailer.

You suspected you knew what was going on, but you weren’t sure how to broach the subject.

So near the end of June, 1986 as you and Eddie are spending a lazy afternoon on his porch—Eddie reading a book on the porch couch and you making friendship bracelets at his feet—you ask him:

“Hey, where are those red shorts you have? You know, the ones that when you wear them I always make you walk in front of me.” You waggle your brows at him suggestively.

You’d tipped your head back so it rested on the sofa cushion right next to his left thigh so you could look up at him, and almost absentmindedly, Eddie’s hand had begun to stroke your cheekbone lovingly. But he didn’t catch your eyes, instead his remain glued to the page. He doesn’t react to your borderline salacious comment (just another action that’s out of character for him), but simply turns the page of his book.

“In one of my drawers…Or maybe in the closet, I don’t know,” he responds. He’s wearing a black long sleeve with tour dates on the back and a Dio logo on the front with light-coloured jeans. It was 88 degrees today and humid with absolutely no breeze, the kind of sticky heat that can make you feel like you’re suffocating if you’re outside for too long.

You frown and try again. “What about your cropped shirts? I miss those.” It’s then he stops stroking your cheek.

Eddie huffs, annoyed, and drops his folded paperback into his lap before finally looking at you. “Why are you asking me about my clothes? Worry about your own.”

Eddie rarely gets so defensive or lashes out (which is probably too harsh a phrase for what he’s done just now, but he’s clearly irritated) at you unless there’s something deeper going on. He tries to hide things if he’s ashamed or embarrassed of them, but his feelings end up coming to the surface to manifest in other ways.

A child with pigtails on a faded blue tricycle coasts by then, ringing the silver bell affixed to the handlebars, and a woman (who you presume to be her mother) strolls not more than three paces behind.

It’s then that you stand from the wood floor, abandoning your half-finished bracelet with the loose threads hanging off the end on the couch beside Eddie.

He looks up at you just as you grab his hand, and pull him inside, continuing to pull him along the hall to his bedroom where you get him to sit on the end of his bed.

Eddie has a guilty look on his face, brows knit together and eyes soft. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He drags a hand down his face, now frustrated with himself.

You tilt your head at him then and gently grab his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. He’s warm. His eyes are apologetic and tired as they stare into yours.

“It’s okay. I think I know what’s going on.” You sit down on the bed next to him, holding his slightly sweaty hand in yours. “But I want you to tell me.”

You’re looking at him, but much like earlier he avoids your gaze. He’s focusing on a small dark spot on the carpet, likely from sometime when he’d dropped a cigarette on the floor.

He looks defeated. It makes your chest ache. You squeeze his hand.

“They’re just…they’re everywhere,” He says quietly, shamefully, and he still can’t look at you as he says it. Like it’s a dirty confession. Like you hadn’t known. Like you hadn’t seen them, hadn’t seen how he got them.

The scars, barely three months old, touch everywhere from the sensitive skin of his belly and thighs, to the muscle of his biceps and crawl down his forearm. He’s even got some hiding just beneath his collar, that creep up around his shoulders where they stop before they reach his back.

You’re formulating a response to his statement, but before you can speak, Eddie continues: “I was already so easy to pick apart. Y’know. The hair, the clothes. And I was mostly fine with it. But this-this just gives them another reason to stare, another reason to point and say, ‘hey, there’s the freak.’” He utters the insult with such venom you flinch.

With your free hand, you tenderly guide his face to look up from the carpet and at you, and your hand drops to his knee. You don’t even have to think of what to say.

“You know what I think when I see them?” You ask, and Eddie shakes his head. “I think about the fact that you survived. They’re a reminder that you still have a body that can scar…that you’re alive.”

Eddie scoffs lightly, disbelieving, and looks away again. “You can’t mean that-you-” But you cut him off, forcing him to look at you again. Your other hand moves from his knee, to cover the top of his hand that’s holding your right one.

“I would rather you be covered head to toe in scars than not be here at all,” You tell him fiercely, making sure to hold his gaze as you say it.

Something changes in his eyes then; they go glassy and tender. You’ve begun to break through, if only by a small amount. At least, he believes that you believe what you’ve said, even if he doesn’t believe it himself yet.

Still, he screws his face up slightly at the image, but then lays his head on your shoulder.

He sniffles. “Thank you.”

You wish he could see himself now how you see him, think about himself what you think about him. You try a different route.

“They’re metal,” You say, bringing the hand that was once grasping his, up his back to lightly scratch at his scalp. “Ozzy would be jealous.”

At this, Eddie gives a weak laugh, and you can feel his shoulders shaking with it.

You’re not sure how else you can convince him of his beauty. You’re not sure if that’s possible. Maybe all you can do is show him in your own way, in every way you can, that you love him, scars and all. Maybe then, over time, he’ll come to feel at least neutral about them. To not speak of them with such hatred, to simply be content that they are there and come to peace with the fact that they will never go away.

With that thought, you stand from the bed, and Eddie looks up at you, eyes shining with unshed tears. From there, you reach down and slowly begin to pull at the hem of his shirt, a question. Is this okay?

When he raises his arms, you proceed, and tug his long sleeve over his head, letting it fall to the carpet. This reveals the pale expanse of his chest and stomach, marked by rippled scars pressed into his flesh. They’re more pink than red now since they’ve mostly healed, but they take up as much space as they had the day the demo-bats sunk their teeth into him.

Then, you gently press against his chest until he gets the memo and lays back, legs hanging off the end of the bed with his feet still planted on the floor.

Climbing on top of him to straddle his hips, you lean down, hands pressed lightly against his chest and softly place your first kiss to the small-ish scar (at least in comparison to the others– which can be about the size of large dinner plates) by his collarbone.

“What’re doing?” Eddie asks the ceiling, voice cracking.

Pressing yourself up from his chest so you’re eye-to-eye, you brush his hair behind his ear lovingly and stroke the soft skin of his cheek. His hands find your hips.

“I’m kissing all your beautiful spots,” You inform him simply. Like it was obvious once you laid down the first kiss that the beautiful spots on his body are all the places marked by scars.

For a moment, Eddie’s large eyes–which are so expressive you think you could read his mind sometimes–sparkle with longing and something more sweet. A fondness.

But then, a nearly nonexistent smirk creeps its way onto his face as if he’s just thought of something ridiculous to say.

“How are you going to kiss my personality and my character?” He quips, tone thick with false authenticity.

You laugh with a short breathy sound. If he’s found the will to be his regular, annoying–yet charming–self, his heart must feel a little lighter.

It’s then you kiss him square on the mouth, allowing your tongue to indulge in the taste of his, like cigarettes and watermelon. Taken by surprise, Eddie makes a hmph sound before melting into you, his hands travelling from your hips to your back, pulling you closer.

Though his mouth was most definitely one of his most beautiful spots, you don’t linger–despite the fact that you want to–as this was not your initial intention.

When you pull away Eddie groans unhappily so you award him with one final, quick kiss before sliding down his body again.

With his shirt off and because you’re pressed close to his skin you can smell him so clearly; his lavender-scented body wash, sweat, and vaguely, his cologne. You delight in the closeness, in all it awards you.

It had taken him weeks to get used to you seeing him like this, let alone allowing you to touch him like this. But you think this is more than that as you softly kiss across the scars on his shoulders. No, you think, this is more than touch. This is worship.

Trailing your hands down his torso ever so lightly, Eddie shivers involuntarily at the ticklish, but pleasing sensation. You smile up at him, satisfied with his reaction, then place a gentle kiss on his sternum. He sighs contentedly.

Then, teasingly, you trail your mouth to the right, and up just slightly. You graze his nipple with your teeth and this is precisely when his chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, his breaths coming quicker.

He lets you tenderly kiss the scars on his pecs, allows you to trail kisses down the length of his arm, ending with a sweet kiss at his wrist. He watches with hooded eyes as you do, pupils blown so wide now they nearly swallow up the dark brown of his irises.

Eddie sighs and moans as you kiss down his belly and leave a path of spit.

He helps you wiggle off his jeans. Once they are off, you allow yourself to indulge in a sudden desire to lick a thick stripe from the waistband of his boxers where his happy trail begins, all the way up to his navel. Eddie’s hips twitch and lift off the bed just slightly as he huffs impatiently. He wants this, he wants you to touch him, to kiss him everywhere available.

You must lay down hundreds of kisses. With each one you are saying I love you, you are saying this to him, you are saying this to each and every scar. You are telling him, I love this one and this one and this one and this one. They are all my favourites. They are all your beautiful spots.

You scratch lightly along his waist, just above his waistband, tugging at the elastic where you let your fingers sneak beneath the fabric. But you don’t tug his boxers down just yet. You haven’t even reached his thighs yet. How could you forget his thighs? What a great act of neglect it would be to forget about his thighs.

Slowly, you slide off his body and onto the floor, now kneeling on the carpet between his legs, which he parted for you ever so willingly. He’s pliable, putty in your hands. You could move him wherever and however you wanted and he would let you.

You decide that you enjoy this angle; seeing him laid out, wriggling around restlessly, sighing as you drag your hands up and down his thighs. He must be half-hard in his boxers. But you ignore this for now in favour of paying attention to his gloriously thick thighs.

Pushing the fabric of his boxers up so you can get to the highest place on his legs where the scars reach without taking them off, you place a kiss there, at the very top of his left thigh.

“Sweetheart, please.” He sounds breathy and desperate.

“But I haven’t kissed everywhere yet,” You tease before placing a sweet kiss to the meat of his thigh.

This makes him whine, high and drawn out.

You rarely get him like this. You love him like this.

So you continue kissing his pinkish scarred flesh; the tops of his thighs, around his knees, his calves, then a painstakingly slow trail back up. He’s almost jittery by the time you’ve reached his thighs again. You must kiss every inch of his flesh broken by the scars. Because they’re a part of him and how could you not love every part of him?

Finally, you reach the apex of the inside of his thighs. He’s extra sensitive there. The scars are fewer and further between there. But still, you kiss each one of them, gently, softly, then tease him by licking up the inside of his thigh, feeling the ridges and bumps of the scars on the flat of your tongue. Another kiss.

“God,” Eddie groans. And then he says something else as you continue your ascent, fingers itching to grasp his waistband and pull his boxers down. You aren’t sure what he’s said at first, until he repeats himself. And then he repeats himself again, and again. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“Eddie, you’re so pretty,” You whisper into his thigh before pressing another kiss to another scar, one just below his waistband which you’ve only just begun to tug down. He hears your praise, lolls his head to the side to look down at you. His eyes are glassy and pleading, lust-drunk, love-drunk. Then he reaches his hand down, and you reach up to meet him in the middle where he laces your fingers together.

It’s then you place a kiss over his boxers, kissing the very tip of him where his dick curves up towards his right hip, pressed right beneath the elastic waistband. The spot is damp and you can taste the saltiness of him on your tongue already.

You’re glad you were watching him when you did it, because his eyes rolled into the back of his head before they shut and he moaned and his hips twitched again, searching for more, more, more.

When his eyes slowly open again, he catches you watching him. Teasingly tracing your index finger over his skin, brushing over his scars, causing his stomach to tense, so riled up.

“What?” He drawls lazily.

“Feelin’ good?” You ask, though you know the answer.

“Mmh,” Eddie replies affirmatively, hips shifting again. You smile softly.

If you can give him these moments as often as possible, make him feel loved and worshipped, press all your love into him through your lips on his skin, then maybe he will start to feel it for himself. It will sink into his skin, fight its way beneath the scars and into his heart.

So you continue making him feel good. You finally pull down his boxers, allowing him to spring free. His leaking tip reaches his belly button, dark pink, clearly aching. You press your lips to the tip, once again kissing him.

You ease the ache.

♡*♡*♡

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it & if you did, please consider reblogging, it really helps!

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corporatefrog · 1 year

Text

꒦‧₊ ꒷ HEADCANNONS: team stan reacting to yn being in the hospital✧.*

✧.* tags: superhero au, college au

✧.* Characters: stan marsh, kyle broflovski, kenny mccromick, butters stotch

a/n: i ran into a bit of a wall with team craig but i'm going to give it another go tomorrow!

masterlist

Stan:

You send him a text saying you won’t be at the next dnd session because your in the hospital with a broken rib

Straight up just says “I’m sorry”

Nothing else. He doesn’t know how to talk to people.

You saw him dealing with kenny dying, he does NOT know what to say

He’s freaking the fuck out though irl. Are you okay? What if you aren’t okay? What is he going to do if you aren’t okay?

He comes to visit you when you tell Kenny and Kyle and they DRAG him into the room

He got you a giant fucking basket of random stuff that doesn’t really apply to you but you appreciate it nonetheless

“Are there any broken rib vitamins in here?”

“Those are a thing? I didn’t realize they made those. I can go grab some right now-”

“I fucking with you, dude. Thank you for the basket :)”

Kenny:

You’re talking to him normally, chatting about your day

Then he asks if you want to get pizza, smoke, and watch Rango

“Oh sorry, I’m in the hospital rn so probably not tonight"

"WHAT???"

"yeah my bus was hit by the stampede of cows from the villain attack yesterday"

You get no response

But that’s because 5 minutes later, kenny is standing in the doorway of your hospital room with a slushie from 7/11 in hand

It was the only thing he thought to get you (because who doesn’t love a slushie?)

You’ve got a few bruises and a hairline fracture on your ankle but Kenny acts like you are on death’s door

“Just don’t go towards the light”

“If you really thought I was dying, you should’ve brought me more than slushie.”

“Should I have brought 2 slushies?”

Becomes your personal errand boy until you’ve recovered.

Hungry? He’s got your grocery list and a recipe printed out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner

Bored? Time for a movie marathon.

Need help with class? He’s dragging kyle down the hall for whatever you may need.

Butters:

He was there when you got hurt because you were trying to film a fight and the coon miscalculated his landing spot, landing on a bunch of trash cans and sending a lid hurtling towards you

Obviously as butters, he’d rush over and help you

But he was PROFESSOR CHAOS

And what is more chaotic than a civilian being included in the battle?

But this wasn’t any civilian, it was YOU

And he’ll ground HIMSELF if he lets someone get away with hurting you >:(

He’d shout out a “TIME OUT” which mainly just confuses everyone (as any agent of chaos would do)

But it’s enough time for him to grab you and run away from the fight to his LAIR OF CHAOS where general disarray is able to give you a check up

After working with chaos for a few years, general disarray realized there needed to be someone with medical training so he took a few courses at the community center and now he’s on his way to being a registered nurse!

Doesn’t stop apologizing even though you tell him it wasn’t his fault.

Takes all of his stuffed animals from his bed and brings them over to you so you’re not alone while you wait for Disarray to give you the go ahead to go home

Kyle

Probably asking why you weren’t in class and you tell him you’re in the hospital

Thinks it’s a joke at first

But you send him a picture of you hooked up to the heart monitor

The coon had used you as a human shield during a fight with a villain and you ended up getting hit with an energy blast by Solar Flare (bebe’s supervillain persona hehe)

He calls you instantly

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Don’t kill him, kyle”

“Too late. I'm killing him. This is too fucking far.”

“Aw you care 🙂”

“No i just needed a reason to finally put that fucker in the ground.”

“Oh sure, just be mean to the person hooked up to fucking life support”

“YOU'RE ON LIFE SUPPORT?!”

“No, I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“When i’m done killing cartman, you’re next.”

Spoiler alert: he was joking.

He brings you flowers and a sudoku probably

And the notes from the class you missed like the absolute king he is

Talks to the doctor when you get discharged and basically becomes a live-in nurse

“The doctor said you need to limit your screen time while you recover. Do your crossword instead”

Okay fucking MOM

Just kidding it’s sweet

#south park headcanons #south park x reader #south park #stan marsh #butters stotch #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #corporatefrog

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makuzume · 4 months

Note

Genshin HCs on how they text their s/o?

Genshin Men Texting their s/o Headcannons (Part 1)

Characters: Neuvilette, Itto, Childe, Ayato

Content: GN! reader; Genshin AU; established relationship; slightly suggestive (Ayato only)

[Masterlist] [Part 2]

💙Neuvilette💙

He has a very formal way of texting: well structured, complete with commas, semi-colomns, dashes, and quotation marks. It's not that he doesn't feel close with you to speak more casually, it's just that it's his natural way of speaking/texting (he already thought he was using casual texting).

Apologizes a lot if you comment on his manner of texting and might try to make it a bit more 'casual,' though it felt too off when he tried it, so you asked him to just text what he's comfortable with.

Sometimes asks you the slang terms used in the newer generation. "Dear, what does sjfskflak stand for? You mentioned that yesterday and I could not find the definition for it." Or even "Dear, what is U.W.U.? Is that some organization from Sumeru? It sounds quite familiar."

He will react to the Reels/TikToks you send him, though he says he will get back to it later on his free time (he always remembers).

There are times when he completely gets drowned in his worked and hasn't said goodnight to you or view your texts the whole night (He apologizes the next day.) Though his instinct is to always greet you good morning once he sees the sun peeking through his window, it's a reminder for him, and he never missed a day to say "Good morning, my dearest. Did you sleep well last night?"

💛Arataki Itto💛

Reading his texts feel loud and lively, it's chaotic- a lot of times he uses uppercase letters, stickers, GIFs, and emojis to express his emotions even further. It's like you can really hear his voice when he texts.

Replies with silly stickers and meme reactions when he's either reading your messages or when he talks about something.

Will literally send his entire IG/Tiktok feed of memes or cool stuff to you.

Typos and wrong spellings all the time.

Itto will update you constantly, he'll send practically everything that reminds him of you "this beetle has ur vibe idk y" or anything mildly interesting that he's doing because you're also his bff got slushies but soem brat ran into me snd spillde it"

Expect constant facetiming for him to show you random stuff, tell a story that just happened, if he's bored, when he's walking through a dark alley and is secretly scared, or if he feels lonely while taking a dump for too long. He's also the type to make silly faces or poses when you accept his call.

He always finds a way to make the most mundane things sound like such s story to tell.

When he feels that your mood isn't vivbing that day, he will always try to lighten the mood through memes or tell you to "lay it on me, my campadre" and do whatever he can think of to cheer you up when he makes a surprise visit (comes over that night with your favorite snack, holding a flower in his mouth, and giving you a rizzed up look to make you smile)

You change his name too frequently it gets confusing sometimes (recent names: beetle dude, Gordon Ramslay, Deoderant, CheesePuff, Guy from McDonalds)

🧡Childe/Tartaglia🧡

There could only exist one: He's either incredibly busy from work and unresponsive for hours/days or he suspiciously has too much free time to be replying a little too quickly to your messages. (He lets you know beforehand if he will be inactive for a while)

Loves using every cute, funny, sweet pet name when texting you. His personal favorite is either babe or one of the many funny ones he can think of like sweet thang, boss, nerd, etc. (if that doesn't offend you)

When he does respond after being gone for days- Childe will send the most random, out of context photos of what he's been up to recently, out of no where (Photo of him on the top of a skyscraper antena, inside a submarine, Mt. Everest, an illegal substance den-) Often this is because this is where his work usually takes him and at the very moment he was done with work he figured he'd text you.

Sends screenshots from chats with his siblings or send photos about his family, talks about them A LOT.

Happy to open his phone and see your messages and see the links you sent, he's just excited to talk to you. He will go "US", "lmaoo", or "FR" and if you send a nice place from a reel/tiktok, he will book a reservation right away to surprise you that week.

INSTANTLY replies the moment he gets a notification from you even if he's at work. (except during those long, complicated missions where he says he will be inactive) you were confused one time where he would view your message, leave you on read for a minute, and reply (you found out later that he was in the middle of beating up some people in their headquarters who owed them money)

💜Ayato💜

Calls you sweetheart, darling, my love, and every other affectionate name. He isn't shy to say anything to you through texts. He's sweet and lets you know exactly how he feels.

Loves teasing you in a subtle, flirty way in his texts, it his way of showing his attraction and affection towards you. Sometimes, he does this during a time when you're outside or if you're out with another guy just to make sure you're reminded that only he knows how to make you blush. Imagining your reactions also amuses him (he knows exactly what to say to make you flusterred and embarassed)

Sends photos of things Ayaka made and things Ayaka she did recently because he acts like a proud grandfather when it comes to her.

Asks you to send photos of yourself when he feels particularly clingy or misses you

There are days he forgets to reply the entire day/night because of his insane workload- but remembers you the next day when he wakes up and realizes 'no wonder my day felt incomplete yesterday': He didn't get to talk to his sweet beloved.

Sometimes texts can get a little more flirty and turn a bit spicy

You get texts from him asking you to check your door (he sends you food and flowers to spoil you and make you smile).

[note: I'm no Itto simp but fave one I made was his]

Check out my other works [Masterlist]

#genshin impact #genshin au #genshin impact au #genshin men #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcannons #imagines #headcannons #neuvilette #tartaglia #childe #itto #arataki itto #ayato #kamisato ayato #genshin texts

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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 1 year

Text

Shadow

Anon Request.

Love your blog can you do something for Lee not that you’ve seen the movie.

Wordcount: 3.4K+

Description: Living on your own isn’t too bad, why live with people when they have done nothing but hurt you. Until you are suddenly being followed by a man. He seems harmless and maybe being alone isn’t so bad if you are alone with him.

A/N: My first Lee. I have no idea where this came from. I was supposed to be writing smut and it went left field. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Warning: Mention of SA, attempted SA, drug overdose, Murder, Lee eating a person. A bit of angst, and a bit of fluff at the end.

As a child, I loved the summer. I loved the warmth against my skin, the breeze that could heat and cool it simultaneously. My mother used to take me to the lake during the summer and let me spend the day running around and playing in the water. At the end of a hot day, she would take me to get a hot dog and a slushie, it was heaven for a 10-year-old.

I missed that heaven. The next year my mother met Johnathan and then summer was spent hiding in my room, burying myself deep in my closet covering my ears hoping to drown out the sound of him beating my mother, hurting her, and her begging him to stop that she would be good for him. It was hell for an 11-year-old.

It was the next year when I realized why my mother kept him around. He helped feed her habit. He always had what she needed. When I begged her to throw him out she would tell me she needed him and to mind my own business. I didn’t know what she was on, it didn’t matter. It only matters that she loved him and her drugs more than me

At 15, Johnathan came into my bedroom. I was asleep, but the moment he opened the door, my body was alert. I stayed completely still and took slow deep breaths to keep from panicking, so he would think I was still asleep. It was silent for a while, the only sound where our breath, and then he moved closer to the bed and next my covers were thrown to the ground.

“Your mother is dead.” He stated plainly, clearly knowing I was faking.

Still, I didn’t react. She stopped being my mother the moment she let him move in. I felt nothing and not in the sense I was too stunned, just nothing. Like when you read in the paper someone died in a town too far away for you to have met. Her death meant nothing to me.

“It’s time for you to take her place,” he said after a moment.

The silence that followed was minimum as things moved quickly after that. Shouting, screaming, blood so much blood all over my mattress. My voice was hoarse and my eyes blurred with tears. When I left the room, my mother's body was on the sofa, slumped over a needle in her arm. I looked at her, and walking closer I saw the necklace I made her in second grade around her neck.

“You don’t deserve this. Maybe then, but not now,” I said, yanking it from her neck, and then I walked out of the house. I didn’t look back, I just kept walking, blood running down my legs wearing only the t-shirt I wore to bed and shorts, both torn and barely hanging on my body.

My feet never stopped walking. I grabbed clothes from my neighbor's clothesline as I passed them, but I still kept walking. I only stopped when I reached the lake. I tore the rest of my clothes off and jumped in. I let the water wash away the sin, the terror from my body.

I knew Johnathan was bad news from the moment I first saw him. I knew he would ruin my life, I just didn’t know how. After that, I never let myself ignore my warning bells, I trusted my gut and stuck to myself, and was always aware of my surroundings.

It was how I knew he was following me. I didn’t know his name, I’d never spoken to him, we made eye contact a few times the first time I noticed him, but nothing more. Yet he was following. It’s been weeks, but he never got too close, never followed me where it was obvious he was following me.

We were both young. Around the same age, earlier twenties, but closely alone. Abandoned, maybe that is why he followed me because he knew I was abandoned and empty like he was. I didn’t know how he would know, but I guess the same way I knew about him. Since that night, I moved around a lot. I worked odd jobs and did just about anything for money.

It was Alabama where I first noticed my shadow. I was in the mart, looking for something easy to steal and eat. I just stole from my job and it was time for me to get out of there.

As a walked down the aisle, I realized the hair on my neck stood up. Someone was watching me, glancing down the aisle, I saw him from the corner of my eyes. His eyes glued to me as subtly as he could. I narrowed my eyes turning to stare at him, but he didn’t look away.

We stared d at each other for what felt like years. And then a screaming toddler ran down the aisle bumping into him. He turned to look at the child and I used that moment to escape his gaze and leave the store.

Sighing a walked around the building pressing my back against the wall. My heart was racing not in fear but something else, something I didn’t understand.

“Get ahold of yourself girlie. It’s not the first time you’ve seen a nice-looking man,” I scowled myself, pulling the pack back off my back and looking through to see what I go. Some pop-tarts, bottles of water, and the little Lunchables that everyone’s been raving about.

“This will have to do until I get someplace else,” I mumbled out loud, putting my bag back on my back, and then, out of the corner of my eyes I saw red hair, but he kept walking as if he didn’t notice me.

But I knew he did. He walked with his hands in his pockets, nonchalant, he even started whistling, but his head was turned towards me, his eyes flickering my way before to the ground again.

I couldn’t help but laugh. He was the less subtle person in the world, but he didn’t come any closer. He didn’t try to approach me, so I decided he was harmless for now. With my head high, I walked right past him. Our shoulders brushed slightly, my breath caught and he shudder. I was reminded of the summer breeze for a moment and I quickly ran.

I was in Louisiana now. Or I should say we are in Louisiana now. The first stop when I go somewhere new is the bar, it was easy to learn things about the town, the people, the places hiring, and the easiest place to hide out.

I sat at the end of the bar. I never wanted to get unwanted attention, but I wanted to know all the information. My shadow sat at the other in the bar. He was more in the shadows than I was, but I knew it was because he didn’t want me to notice him.

Maybe he should wear less noticeable clothing then and not have dyed hair. I laughed behind my glass at the thought. He was sort of adorable, a little puppy following you around.

“So I talked to Sal and he says that the Kmart is hiring, as well as the little pub down the road is hiring,” the bartender said. She looked at me with pity and a kind smile, but I ignored her looks because she had useful information.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling kindly back.

“Honey, do you have a place to stay?” She asked.

“Yes ma’am. I told you, my cousin lives here,” I lied.

She frowned, clearly not believing me, but I kept smiling and then someone shouted for her, and she gave me one last look before pushing some nuts in front of me. “It’s all we have.” And then she was gone.

I sighed, I hated pushy people. I was fine on my own. I didn’t need handouts from people, they always wanted something in return. I would someplace to sleep tonight, someplace semi-safe. I could afford a hotel after the price of the bus ride here.

I stayed in the bar until it was closing. Shadow was already gone, but I knew it would be nearby. Or maybe he was finally down with watching me all the time. I should be more scared, but I wasn’t.

Walking out of the bar, I pulled a bag of chips from my bag, debating which way to go when I heard footsteps following me. Too heavy to be Shadow and walking too fast to be someone that didn’t mean me harm.

Keeping my head down, I walked faster, quickly ducking into an alleyway hoping the person would keep going, but they followed me. I cursed myself for not running into the store up ahead. The shy was pitch black and I couldn’t see the end of the alleyway, it was possibly a dead end, but I had no choice but to keep walking.

The step moved faster until my arm was grabbed and I was forced against the brick wall of one of the buildings. I groaned as my head slammed into the wall, blood instantly dripping down my face.

“Where did you think you were going, baby? Saw you in the bar and wanted to know how much for the night?” The man breathed into my ear.

“Gross, you smell and I am not a prostitute.”

“Pretty enough to be one?”

“Umm, Thanks? Now can you let me go?” I knew I was in danger but I couldn’t help but be calm and bored. My feet hurt and now my head hurt. The blood was dripping on my clothes and I would need this for job hunting tomorrow.

The man laughed, pressing himself harder against me. I could feel how hard he was and I gagged.

“Let you go? No, why don’t we have some fun together.”

“Because I am bleeding and don’t know you?” I said dryly.

He grabbed the back of my head and slammed it into the wall. “Don’t get smart with me.”

“Or what?” I asked, bringing my foot up and slamming it back down onto his. He moaned and backed away enough for me to turn around.

“You bitch.”

“Oh, I thought I was baby.” I should be running. The smart thing would be to run, but I didn’t. I taunted him. If I had good parents, they would have told me never to taunt a drunk man that was clearly bigger than me and already angry, but I had a junkie for a mother so I didn’t run.

“You are going to fucking die,” He screamed coming at me again.

Now that was my cue to leave, but he grabbed my ankle and slammed me onto the ground on my back. Luckily, my bag kept my head from hitting the ground. I tried to scramble away from him, but he kept pulling me back. No matter how many times I kicked and scratched him.

My hands fumbled behind me to open my bag. To grab the small knife that I kept on me. The only thing I took from my mother’s home when I left. It was a gift from my mother for my 15th birthday, days before she died. Maybe she knew she would die and I would need to protect myself.

It protected me then. Jonathan didn’t see it coming when I stabbed him the first time, or the second, third, or fourth. I could hear his screaming as he fought me as I forced him on his back and kept stabbing him, with his own struggling I cut my thigh then. The scar burned, reminding me I was not helpless, but the zipper was too far away.

And then out of the shadows stood mine. A crowbar in hand, his eyes wide and frenzied. I stopped struggling with them and closed my eyes as I knew what was going to come next.

Warm blood sprayed my skin, covering my face and landing in my mouth. I cursed and began scrambling away. My attacker was not dead yet. He was screaming, he tried to grab me, this time in need. I scoffed, kicking him away.

Once I opened my eyes, I saw my shadow beating my attacker in the head repeatedly until the screams stopped. He was breathing hard, staring down at the blood. He licked his lips and hunger filled his eyes before he realized I was still there.

“Are you okay?” He asked, coming closer. He grasp my elbow gently, a stark contrast to the violent murder I just saw him do.

“I’m f-fine.” I cursed mentally at the stuttering.

“This is my fault. I’m sorry, I fucked up. I fucked up, I fucked up.” He said upset and hitting himself on the head. “Stupid Lee, what were you thinking,” he cursed himself.

“How is this your fault?” I asked confused.

“I normally got to them before you could notice them.”

I blinked. “People tried to attack me before?”

“I wouldn’t say try. I saw the way they looked at you and I handle them.”

I blinked again. “Is that why you’ve been following me? To protect me? I don’t need protecting.”

“I just saved your life and you are upset with me?”

“Yes”

“I never said you couldn’t but I didn’t want to see you hurt, so I stepped in.”

“Why”

“You know why.”

I didn’t say anything, just stared at him, but he looked behind me at the body. The hunger was back in his eyes. His eyes were blown out and he was fidgeting in place.

“Oh for fuck sake, just eat him already.”

His eyes snapped to yours. “You know?”

“I know you have been following me for weeks. I know you are alone, and I know that you eat people, and steal their money and their cars. You might have been watching me, but I’ve been watching you as well. Eat.” And without letting him say anything else, I stomped out of the alleyway.

My head was still bleeding. I was covered in blood and annoyed. My outfit was ruined and I couldn’t very well walk into a laundromat and clean up. Sticking to the darker, less lit roads, I walked into I came upon a lake.

I couldn't but grin as I ran faster to reach the water. Dropping my bag on the ground I ran toward the water but a hand grabbed my arm.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed,” He said angrily.

I huffed, deciding I liked my Shadow best when he didn’t speak to me. “What do you mean?”

Sighing, he let me go, pointing to a sign I didn’t notice that warned against getting in the water because of alligators. I flushed, turning back to him. “Oh, I didn’t see.” I offered.

“Clearly not. Come on, there is a creek nearby. It’s for swimming and free of gators,” he said, holding out his hand.

“What’s your name?” I asked, though I’m positive he said Lee earlier,

“Lee.”

“Lee what?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

He looked at you expectedly. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

He chuckled, “ Your name?”

“Oh, I don’t really go by it anymore.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“Hmm you can pick,” I said, placing my hand in his and pulling him toward my bag picking it up and letting him lead me away.

“Well, what did you call me before I told you my name?”

“Shadow. Well, my shadow,”

He smiled. “Your shadow? I like that. So I belong to you?” He asked shyly.

“Of course you do. My shadow is mine.”

“It’s only fair you some belong to me then.”

“We can belong to each other.”

“Okay.”

“Just so you know, I have a knife and can and will use it on you if you get weird. I was going to use it on that guy before you showed up.”

Lee chuckled again, stopping when we stood in front of the creek. “I promise you won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

I narrowed my eyes at him before concluding, that for some odd reason, I trusted him. Letting go of his hand, I walked into the water until it was up to my waist. Then I dove under, washing all the blood off of me.

Coming up for Air, Lee still stood on the bank. “Are you not going to wash up? You are covered in blood Lee.”

He looked down at himself as if just realizing it. I laughed shaking my head and diving back under the water. Staying down for a while, letting the water pressure force me further down.

I closed my eyes and thought about summers with my mother before things when to crap and how happy I was. I thought about the years with Johnathan in the house and the years alone. I wasn’t happy.

The water rippled and I opened my eyes. My lungs were burning and I swam to the surface, coming up next to Lee.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I said back, smiling softly.

We both stared at each other for a few minutes. I cocked my head to the side and he copies me. “What are you doing?” I laughed.

“I’m sure shadow right? I copy you,” he laughed.

“Wash up, it’s cold,” I said splashing water at him and swimming towards the shore.

Pulling myself onto the ground, I pulled my shirt over my head, dipping it back into the water to make sure to get all the blood out as best as I could. Then I set it next to me, as I watched Lee.

I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve been watching him as well, but I never got to watch him all this. He dove underwater a few times before laying on his back and floating. He looked so peaceful. He didn’t seem peaceful before, maybe he liked the water.

After a few minutes of floating and then he turned towards me, flushing as he noticed my stare, but swimming toward me nonetheless. I smiled, pulling my knees up to my chest as he pulled himself next to me.

“Thank you for saving me,” I said.

“You were going to save yourself.”

“Still. And for all the other times I didn’t know about.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was silent again. We were so close to each other that with every breath, our shoulders brushed each other. I laid my head on my knees turning to face him. “Now what?” I asked.

He shrugged, mimicking the way I was sitting, smiling softly at me. “Maybe find a place to sleep tonight and go from there?”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“Are you going to get in my truck or will I have to keep totally not follow you?” He teased.

“My feet hurt and so does my head. I think the truck would be best.”

“Good, I got some bandages as well, can make you good as new,” he said, gently touching your forehead. I was happy it stopped bleeding and I felt less dizzy. I knew that it only bled some much because it was a head wounded.

“Okay let’s go then,” I said, getting to my feet. I put my shirt back up and turned to Lee offering him my hand.

He stared between my hand and my face. “You don’t care about what I am?”

“What a shadowy stalker?” I teased.

“An eater?”

“Ah, there is a name for it.”

He nodded.

Sighing, I grabbed his hand and forced him to stand up. “Look, Lee, first, if you were going to eat me you would have done it already and second do you choose to eat people?”

“No of course not. I can’t help it.”

“Then why would I be upset with something you have to do? I am not upset with the sky for being blue, or the grass green. It is just something that is. I don’t care.”

He nodded slowly, then squeezed your hand. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“A bad person wouldn’t have saved me. A bad person doesn’t worry about if they are a bad person or not. You are just Lee. I may not know a lot about you, but you are not a bad person. You are an alone person.”

He interlocked your fingers. “Not anymore.” He smiled.

“No not anymore. Now let’s go.”

“Okay.”

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #lee #lee bones and all #bones and all lee #timothee chalamet x reader #lee x reader #lee fics #bones and all imagines #timothée chalamet

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3d-wifey · 2 years

Text

I Am Real and You Are Not

Pairing: Jason Carver x Reader

Synopsis: You looked him up and down with barely concealed disgust and that lightning came back tenfold. You could say whatever you wanted to him, do whatever you wanted to him. Just as long as you kept looking at him.

Warnings: Smut, some religious talks, humiliation kink, semi-public sex, Jason being a pervert and a freak, & dominant female reader

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Inspired by a conversation between @unsheath and me about how we want more people to write smut for Jason. I still don't know if the characterization for him is any good though. 💀

Pt.2

You were a part of Munson's group of freaks, someone Jason normally wouldn't even bat an eye at. But from his spot at a table a couple of feet away, he was able to see you clearly for the first time.

The library was silent, the two of you the only residents. There was no one around to drag his attention away from you and he let his eyes map out your features. From the curve of your lips, to the slope of your nose, to your eyelashes that fluttered each time you blinked.

You were pretty, he realized. Too pretty to be hanging around with the likes of that cult.

You reached for a book high on the shelf, shirt lifting as you stretched, and his eyes were drawn to the skin of your lower stomach and before he knew it, he was walking up to you.

His chest pressed into your back, probably more than necessary, as he grabbed the book you were reaching for with ease.

"Is this what you were looking for?" He asked, offering the hardcover book to you with the kind of smile that charmed students and teachers alike, despite it not reaching his eyes. Freak or not, every girl reacted the same way when he smiled at them. They'd fluster, get timid and maybe giggle a little before doing whatever they could to keep his attention.

So, imagine his confusion when you did none of the above. Instead, you turned around and stared up at him with so much disdain he could have been propelled with the force of it alone. He was sure the two of you had never spoken before, but you seemed to harbor more hatred for him than the entire school had for Munson.

"Why would I take anything you've touched," you scoffed and Jason shivered, "Fucking pervert." You shoulder-checked him hard enough for him to step back as you walked past and a sharp zing of something raced up and down his spine. He was left dumbfounded, staring after you with the book still in hand.

Later, when he's in his bed and fresh out of the shower, he thinks about you. The longer he thinks about you and how you talked and how you smelled, the faster blood rushes from his head to his cock.

He thinks about how you looked at him with nothing but revulsion and his hips buck up to meet his hand. He thinks about the contempt in your voice and has to grip the base of his cock before he cums too soon. The finishing blow is what you called him.

Fucking pervert.

Remembering it has Jason moaning into the crook of his elbow as he cums all over his chest. When he's finally done, Jason's left tingling and in need of another shower.

You were a distraction, someone designed to be an obstacle to sway him from the straight and narrow. But then Jason thinks about the feeling you invoked in him and decides he could always repent later.

The next time he comes up to you, your lip curls into a sneer and Jason feels the same spark of lightning go down his spine. It was the end of the day and you were sitting on the school steps with your backpack and a slushy next to you.

He was going to offer you a ride home and as you waited for him to talk, he became uncharacteristically shy. He misstepped somehow and knocked your drink over. You won't hear his apologies, thinking he did it on purpose, and the entire time you're tearing him a new one, the sharp press of his erection against the front of his jeans makes his knees weak. He cums so hard in the shower that night that he gets lightheaded.

He made a habit of only approaching you when you're both alone. For many reasons, but mainly so he can be at the center of your attention.

You don't confront him until the sixth time. You stood at your open locker and slam it close when he approached. You don't even let him get a word out before you back him up into a neighboring locker.

The two of you are silent and Jason's cock twitches in excitement as you glare up at him.

"You thought I wouldn't find out?"

He blinked down at you.

"What?"

"'What'," you mocked and his heart sped up, "God, you're as stupid as you look." Before he could protest to whatever you were accusing him of, his head slammed back against the lockers as you grabbed him through his jeans.

His face went hot and he knew without having to look that he was as red as an apple.

"You really are good for nothing but looking pretty and throwing a ball around," his hips bucked into your hand, looking for more friction and Jason bit his lip hard enough to bleed so his moans wouldn't echo in the hallway, "I guess that whole "dumb blond" thing applies to guys too, huh." You laughed at him and Jason had never been so hard in his life.

"Fuck, 'm gonna cum." His entire body was honed in on where you were touching him, your smaller hand rubbing him through the denim before squeezing hard enough for his sneakers to scuff the floor.

"You're gonna cum in your pants just from some heavy petting? Jesus, you're fucking disgusting." That's what pushed him over the edge, hips bucking into your hand to ride out the wave. After cumming that hard, Jason wasn't even embarrassed about the tears in his eyes or the obvious wet spot on his pants.

You looked him up and down with barely concealed disgust and that lightning came back tenfold. You could say whatever you wanted to him, do whatever you wanted to him. Just as long as you kept looking at him.

As you grabbed him by the wrist and led him towards the exit, Jason could understand why Eve ate the fruit. But he seriously doubted her snake was as beautiful as his.

#stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things smut #jason carver #jason carver x reader #jason carver smut #dom!reader #sub!jason carver

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thechekhov · 1 year

Text

Dungeon Meshi - Quick Reacts (CHAPTER 11: Sorbet)

Let’s see what they eat this ti--

Wait, that’s not--...... no, it couldn’t be. Must be one of the smaller dragons.

oh?????

there’s a lot that they aren’t saying here but can be read in the negative space of what they AREN’T saying. Why are ghosts drawn to corpses? Wouldn’t ghosts come out of corpses? Is there an ecosystem for the spirits here too? You can be brought back when you die, which means your spirit can stay inside, or close to you.... unless something prevents it from doing so?

I thought Falin was a Sorcerer type, but I guess she must have been their Cleric?

okay that’s legitimately---

NOPE

Marcille’s ears get pointier when she’s scared? 😂

LAIOS NO THE 5 SECOND RULE DOESN’T APPLY HERE!!!!!!

is it trying to possess him? this hug doesn’t look consensual

hey, she’s doing her best!

I’m listening...

She seems to have been a sweetheart, just like goodest boy Laios. I can’t wait for their tragic, heartbreaking backstory to rip me to pieces.

The power of a good hug.

You know, the contrast of Marcille and Falin here is really something. I thought Marcille was a little nerd baby but she’s definitely someone who leans into the power her magic gives her.... I see.................. I respect it.

...........................Cooking, senshi. You’re just cooking.

this is alcoholic fruit punch.

noooooo don’t give up!!!

Laios is reconsidering some things

...HUH.

oh okay I get it.

You’ve made a slushie! An alcoholic slushie.

....I think that’s technically just... frozen juice.... there’s no butter or dairy in that icecream.

THAT’S BRUTAL.

the risk you took was not at all calculated, even though you are probably relatively good at math.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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mcnotok · 1 year

Note

okay so i live in a place where it's cold very like 80% of the year, including now and because it was really freakin cold today, it got me thinking about how the climates of undertale really work and that in turn got me thinking about how the bad sans gang™ would react to the cold.

so like first off, do monsters even react to the temperature changing. i mean undyne overheats in her armour when you enter hotland so presumably she does react to changes in her surrounding temperatures. but undyne isn't made entirely out of magic and bones and she likely is a little bit more human than other monsters since a really popular theory about her eye is that she got injected with determination.

but sans and papyrus are skeletons and live in snowdin and that place is constantly covered in snow. (side note: HOW THE FUCK IS THERE SNOW UNDER THE MOUNTAIN. like it could be magic but that's just weird especially considering the fact that waterfall which is right next to snowdin is a marshy grassland which if you know anything about that type of environment you know that snow doesn't really work, okay rant over back to the skeletons).

i've seen a few pieces of art and fanfiction that basically make it so the skeletons react to the cold like a human would; frostbite, hypothermia, ect... but thought is always like would they react that way. most versions of sans are wearing hoodies and shorts and slippers out in the cold and they seem just fine.

cross is wearing like sixty different layers but it's made pretty clear that his outfit is supposed to be a really embellished royal guard uniform so jury's out on him actually being hot underneath all the fluff.

my conclusion is that skeleton monsters are pretty resilient to the cold in general and that it takes a lot to get any of them uncomfortable when it comes to the weather.

so onto the headcanons.

i think that horror, killer, and dust would react to the cold in a similar way because they all lived in snowdin for most of their lives prior to getting hired/adopted into nightmares gang. i think all three of them would really enjoy the snow and the cold in general

horror would be a little more adverse to it because of the hole in his skull and getting water out of there seems kinda annoying to deal with. killer starts a snowball fight and immediately gets his ass handed to him by everyone else. dust just would sorta starfish into the snow and stay there for the whole day. he's like those huskies who just stay outside for as long as possible and when someone drags him back inside he's just laying on his back, covered in snow.

cross is interesting because he also technically grew up in snowdin but most of the universes that x-gaster put him into were on the surface and along with his fluffy coat and scarf i think he's less hyped about the cold. like with all the layers he'll be fine but if you take that from him and he's just outside with a turtleneck and shorts, he'll be shivering after like 15 minutes.

nightmare hates the cold. i've seen a few headcanons that involve his slime/sludge freezing and i think that's really fucking cool. nightmare would rather eat like (idk what nightmare doesn't like to eat but assume something icky) than go outside. if it's under like 35 degrees he's just going to stay inside. he also fucking hates the snow with a burning passion because if it melts on him it'll hurt (i'm actually not sure if the whole, nightmare is hurt by water thing is canon to dreamtale lore, but i think it's cool so i'm sticking with it)

anyways sorry for the long ask, but i got thinking a bit too hard and your blog is probably the thing that got me back into utmv

anyways i hope you have a lovely day!!

I hope this is how you pictured it :)

Ice/slushie consistency when cold nm my beloved

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omgrachwrites · 6 months

Text

Lie To Me - Chapter One

Pairing: Dalton Lambert x Reader

Warnings: fluff, swearing, teeny bit of angst, Dalton being adorable

Summary: Sparks fly when you meet a handsome boy through a horror movie forum. Fires blaze when you meet him again in college.

A/N: I loved writing this so much! I hope you guys enjoy, please let me know if you would like to be tagged and let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

Chapter One

Your younger sister looked at you like you were crazy as you told her about the update between you and Dalton. She was momentarily dumbstruck as she stared at you as you leaned on the kitchen counter sipping your homemade cola slushy.

Beth shook her head in bewilderment, “you are fucking crazy.”

“Language, Beth,” Sara, your stepmom tutted as she walked into the kitchen weighed down with grocery bags that she placed on the counter, “now, we all know that Y/N is fucking crazy,” she grinned at you, making you laugh, “but what is she crazy for this time specifically?”

You loved Sara, she’d married your dad when you were five years old, and they had Beth a year later. She had always treated you like you were her daughter and she was great for your dad too. Beth let out an agitated breath – you were complete opposites; she was far too careful – as she looked at you before looking back at her mom.

“You know that guy Y/N has been talking to for the last couple of weeks, from the horror movie chatroom? She’s agreed to web cam with him tonight.”

“Ooh, is that Dalton?” Sara asked as she began to unpack the groceries, but before you could confirm it, Beth spoke up.

“Who has a name like Dalton?! I’ve never met anyone with that name, I bet he’s a total weirdo.”

Sara grinned at you, clearly not taking her daughter’s fears seriously, “Y/N’s practically an adult,” she directed her next words at you, “and you could do with some harmless flirting before you go off to college and all the boys will be lined up to date you,” she kissed the top of your head.

“Sara,” you groaned as you rolled your eyes.

“What?” she laughed, “you’re so beautiful, all the boys will be lined up.”

“I can’t believe you’re moving halfway across the country to go to college,” Beth pouted.

You sighed as you slurped up the rest of your slushy, “I know, but I made a deal with my mom that I’d move down there after high school.”

Sara glanced at you too from over her shoulder as she put the ice cream in the freezer, “your dad tried to talk your mom into letting you stay here.”

“I know,” you smiled.

“Go on then, when is your scheduled web cam date with Dalton then?” every time someone brought up the subject of you going away to college, Beth quickly changed the subject.

“Sometime tonight, I’m thinking about after dinner,” you grinned, feeling excited. You seriously did hope that he wasn’t a weirdo.

Dinner that evening was your favourite but you hardly tasted it as you were working on eating it as fast as you could without getting sick. Your dad was constantly asking you if you were okay, usually you were really talkative during dinner. Every time you told him that you were fine, Beth and Sara would exchange glances with smirks on their faces.

As soon as you could, you made an excuse to leave the table, saying you wanted to get an early night. You didn’t dare tell your dad about your meeting with Dalton, he’d react just as badly as Beth did.

You sat at your desk and signed into your laptop, you’d already received a chat message from Dalton, the timestamp on the message was from about ten minutes ago, “shit,” you swore under your breath as you read the message.

Dalton: Hey J are you ready?

You hurriedly typed back.

You: Hi, Dalton. I promise I wasn’t ignoring you, I was having dinner but I’m ready when you are.

Dalton typed for a couple of moments before the notification disappeared and then reappeared, it seemed as though he was deleting the message over and over. It became clear that he decided against writing a message and instead he sent you an invitation to begin web camming. You were so shocked that you almost pressed decline. You took a deep breath as you accepted the invitation.

Both yours and Dalton’s screens popped up at the same time and you realised that you both had identical expressions of relief on your faces, “hi,” you started at the same time

“I was worried,” once again, you both spoke at the same time and Dalton laughed as he gestured for you to go first.

“I was so worried that you were gonna be a middle aged weirdo,” you started, making him throw his head back as he burst into laughter, “I was thinking like Al from Toy Story 2,” you giggled as he grinned at you.

Dalton wasn’t average, he was hot and the dimples that he had on either side of his cheeks when he smiled didn’t hurt either. He ran a hand through his long hair, “you see, I was worried that you were gonna be the kind of weirdo that still lived in their parent’s basement with body parts in a chest freezer.

You giggled, covering your mouth to stifle the sound a little, “that is very specific.”

“Yeah,” he flushed “I have a lot of irrational fears.”

“No, no, it’s not an irrational fear, I mean that is a very legit fear. It’s just very specific,” you laughed as he smiled at you. It went silent for a moment or so, and you could tell by his body language that he was nervous, “so,” you started.

“Oh god, I’m sorry Y/N,” he groaned as he rubbed the palms of his hands against his eyes, “I’m so awkward,” before you could tell him it was okay he began talking again, “my brother convinced me to make an account on that forum, said I should meet more people. And, now I’m babbling,” he blushed as he fell silent.

“Dalton, it’s okay. Really,” you giggled, the light of his laptop screen illuminating his handsome face, “I was really nervous about today too.”

“You were?” he asked, looking at you with wide eyes, “worried that I’d be a creep?”

You nodded, “yeah, it was that at first and then I thought you might actually be a nice guy and that made me nervous too.”

Dalton grinned at you in a thankful sort of way and his eyes flickered to the works of art that you decorated the walks of your bedroom with. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the beautiful drawings, most of them charcoal.

“Whoa, did you draw those?” he gestured to the drawings.

You giggled before realising that he was serious, “no, I’m very flattered that you think I did draw them though. My dad has a place in Tuscany which we go to pretty often, and the drawings were created by the local artists. This is my favourite one,” you gestured at a charcoal drawing of Romeo and Juliet on the balcony.

He smiled, “I’ve never been to Italy.”

“It’s so beautiful,” you gushed, it was your favourite place in the whole world, “so, you like art then?”

Dalton nodded, looking a lot more animated and at ease now as he shifted in his desk chair, “yeah I’m doing it at college this year.”

“Wow! You must be good; I can barely draw a stick man.”

Dalton laughed, he had a nice laugh, a deep rumble, “it’s just something I’ve always done,” he shrugged it off like it was no big deal, “what about you? Are you off to college this year?”

You nodded with a smile, you were excited to go to college but you just wished that you could stay in New York, “I am! I’m doing film studies.”

“Hence the love for horror movies, I’m guessing?”

“Yes,” you laughed “what about you, where does your love for horror movies come from?”

At your question, Dalton got shy again as he began to fiddle with the draw strings on his sweatpants, wrapping it around his hand nervously, “I like horror movies but I’m not really a massive fan of being scared so I mostly watch older ones that don’t have all the special effects. I don’t know, they seem less scary,” he mumbled. He was so cute.

“I’ve never really seen many of the older horror films.”

Dalton gasped, pretending to be shocked, “an aspiring film maker and you haven’t seen the classics,” he shook his head making you laugh, “maybe we should watch one sometime.”

“Maybe we should,” you grinned.

The both of you spoke for a couple of hours more, sharing interests and listening to music. When Dalton had to sign off to grab a shower you both promised to web chat at the same time the following night. And, that’s how it was between you two for the remainder of the summer. He quickly became the first thing you thought about when you woke up in the morning and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep.

Eventually it was the night before you were due to leave for college and you were sad, you didn’t know when you would see his face again. You tried to make it seem like it was no big deal.

“I’m gonna miss speaking to you,” you said as you were saying your goodbyes.

“We’ll still be able to speak to each other, just not every day,” he sighed when you nodded, “will you let me know when you get to college safe?”

“Yeah,” you replied making him smile.

“I’ll speak to you real soon, Y/N.”

“Bye Dalton.”

He gave you one last smile before he signed off, leaving you with a hurting heart.

Dalton huffed in frustration, he couldn’t get the painting right and now his hand was killing him as he got rid of the mistake. The door flew open which made him swear beneath his breath as he jumped and splotched paint everywhere. He knew it was Chris without having to turn around, he really needed to get the spare key from her at some point.

“Jesus, Chris! You gave me a heart attack!” he exclaimed.

“Sorry, sorry. Thought you might want to meet my new roommate and get dinner with us.”

He sighed, he really wasn’t in the mood and he had too much to do, he turned around ready to blurt out some excuse but he stopped as he saw the pretty girl at Chris’ side, “Y/N?”

“Dalton?” she grinned, her face lighting up as she did so, “it is you!”

Chris looked very confused as she looked between Dalton and Y/N, “you two know each other?”

“Yes,” they both said at the same time, and Dalton felt a blush creep across his cheeks.

It looked like Chris wanted to say something about it but she decided against it as she looked at Dalton with a raised eyebrow, “so, are you coming?”

Dalton nodded – maybe he did need a break – as he put his paintbrush down, “yeah let me just grab a jacket.”

Chris nodded before her phone rang, she groaned as she looked down at it, “I need to take this, I’ll meet you guys out front.”

“Sure,” Y/N and Dalton say in unison again as Chris leaves the room.

“We really need to stop doing that,” Dalton laughed as he grabbed a jacket.

“Well, I think you should learn to read my mind and figure out when I’m gonna speak, problem solved,” she joked.

Dalton laughed as he shrugged his jacket on, “oh, it’s like that is it?” he grinned, blushing as she smiled at him, “hi.”

“Hey,” she said softly as she walked up to him and gave him a hug, standing on her tiptoes.

Dalton grinned as he hugged her back, he couldn’t believe she was standing here in front of him, at the same college. He no longer had to see her through a computer screen. She smiled as she pulled away and looked around his room with interest.

“Wow, I was right,” she gestured at the art on his walls, “you are good.”

Dalton flushed as he ducked his head but grinned all the same, “thank you.”

Her pretty eyes landed on the drawing he was working on at the moment, he’d only done the outline of the walls so far, “what’s that you’re working on?”

“Just something for Art class,” he said quickly, it wasn’t necessarily a lie.

Before she could reply, Chris shouted to the both of them, “are you losers coming?”

Dalton and Y/N laugh as they glance at each other before going outside to meet their friend.

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert x you #reader x dalton lambert #you x dalton lambert #dalton x you #reader insert #fluff #ty simpkins #insidious #insidious 5 #insidious the red door #the red door

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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 1 year

Note

How would Hannibal react to a reader that has a severe phobia of clowns?

I AM BACK WITH MY VERY PLAIN AND CONTUINOUS WRITING STYLE.

A/n; I'm confused as hell, what was going on in here

Hannibal with reader with coulrophobia!

You and hannibal stepped into the entrance of the carnival, it wasn't often that you two did and he did since he doesn't like awfully crowded public spaces but he admit that it does seem fun. And that sparking eyes and smile of yours made it alot better.

The way you keep tugging onto his clothes and pointing at the food or rides you wanna try and how you always try to involve him and never make him feel left out in your little activities.. God he doesn't know how much more he can love you.

You two just came back on land after the intense ride, feeling dizzy you run off to look after a cool drink to wake you up, perhaps a slushie. You drunkenly-like walk until you hit the back of someone, about to apologise when you saw their face and outfit. Freezing on the spot fear and anxiety taking your whole body.

"are you okay mx-?"

Hannibal after reclaiming his last piece of soul just realised now that you were gone, now trying to find you. After searching for a few minutes or so he picked up on a very familiar scent.

He hurriedly walk towards it and saw you on the ground hyperventilating and crying, he saw a clown was next to you staring at you on the ground as it was coming down to reach you, he ran and twisted the clown's wrist as it yelped. The crowds were loud and enjoying themselves so much to even notice, but that wasn't the point of this situation.

He crouched next to you snaking his arm on your back as you fearfully grip on his suit and cry into his chest.

"get it away from me!"

You almost inaudibly cry out, now he was angry and disturbed. What did this clown do that put you in a state like this? He was deciding whether he should fight or flight, fight would mean trouble for the both of you and he wouldn't want people to see you so vulnerable it would most likely embarrass you. Flight would mean the clown will get away but it saves the trouble for both of you. So fuck it, flight.

He carried you/dragged you away to calm you down. He hugged you close to him.

"Y/n, what did it do to you?"

You didn't respond, instead you looked down quite embarrassingly.

"um.. Nothing.."

He was confused now since he didn't use the concept or have the concept of anything clown related your fear wasn't addressed yet.

".... Do you-"

"yes I have a fear of clowns...!"

He sighed and then lightly said to you,

"oh I wish you brought that up sooner, I was very close to killing that innocent man."

You laid your head on his/his shoulder and stayed like that untill you fully calmed down.

He did kinda know though- just wasn't really sure.

Yippie I'm done.

#nbc hannibal #slasher x reader #hannibal #slasher x you #hannibal x reader #nbc hannibal x reader #x you #hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #x you fluff #mads mikkelsen hannibal

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phantomenby · 2 years

Text

Lightning bug

Anonymous asked:

hiii! i was wondering how would the lost boys react to reader with stretch marks? like on her thigh, arms, legs, stomach, and butt? it’s been bothering me really and for my fam to point out my scars are really…

Ofc u can beautiful <3

"Are you sure you should be wearing that dear?"

You looked down at your chosen outfit with a frown, hearing the condescending tone from your father as he glanced at you with a grimace.

It was nice, the clothing soft and fitting you well.

Admittedly it showed more than you would have liked, but you wanted to enjoy your summer without your family putting you down about things out of your control.

Puberty was normal of course, and it wasn't uncommon to see the small silver and purple lines dragging along the curves of your body.

It wasn't like you could help it.

Still, you were ready to go and had no desire to go back to your room and find something your parents would be satisfied with.

Clearly unhappy with your decision your mother all but ignored you the majority of the drive down to the beach, only noting how there were a few clothing stalls as you reached the parking lot.

You knew what she was hinting at.

Go buy a cover-up last minute, we understand sweetie, bodies like yours aren't meant to be seen.

It was dumb and gross. But you were an adult now and more than used to their comments, you had survived high school and college, after all, your parents had nothing on the bullies there.

When you arrived it was hot, hotter than you were used to in Santa Carla but you loved the way it warmed your skin, and slushies hit so much better when it was roasting hot.

It was only three PM, the sun would be up til eight so you had plenty of time to relax until your boys came round.

You just had to survive your parents is all.

When the great ball of fire in the sky started making its way down your mind started to fully relax, just another hour.

Just one more long, long hour.

Your parents had driven home for dinner already, and so you were treating yourself to something sweet.

The moment the cherry ice cream hit your tongue you were all but moaning in delight, prancing down the seafront as you gazed out into the ocean.

This was your favourite part. Sunset.

Almost every night of your life had been spent watching night arrive in your sweet hometown, you doubted you would ever grow sick of the way the soft blue of the day became golden, turning into a fiery orange before lavender, melting into a deep blue as the night went on.

Throughout your musing you hadn't noticed the figure sneaking up beside you, long hair tousled from the flight over, and a rather devious grin on their face.

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you to a firm chest with a yelp.

"Marko!"

He simply laughed, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rubbing his hands along your hips, "think you can walk 'round like this and not expect one of us to get you, hun?"

Blushing you pulled away until you met his eyes, watching him study you curiously.

"What's wrong?"

You tried looking away but his hand met your chin and pulled your face towards him, refusing to break eye contact until you spoke.

"I-it's just my mother-" he cut you off with a growl, bringing you back to his chest and placing his hand at the back of your head, tugging your hair so he could bury his nose in your neck.

You knew what he would say, though he had started giving up on repeating himself after so long, getting sick of the things you were told about yourself.

"This time?" His tone was agitated, not at you though, humming you thought on what to say. Today hadn't been easy but there was no way to sugar coat it.

"Just-" you brought your hand up to rub the back of his neck, soothingly, "just my marks and well I'm showing more skin than usual-"

He cut you off with a kiss, pressing his lips to yours angrily as his hands went to the soft flesh of your upper thighs, squeezing possessively.

"They're stupid, I'll kill them-"

"N-no! No you wont!" shoving him bak with all your strength you gave him a warning look, "they're still my parents, assholes or not."

Rolling his eyes he lifted you over his shoulder, giving your ass a swat as you kicked your legs against his hip.

"Whatever puppy, let's go find the others."

He carried you all the way to the other end of the beach, past where the light touched until you reached a large bonfire where your other boys were sat around.

All three of them laughed when you arrived, watching Marko spin so you could face them.

David walked up to you, pinching your cheek and pulling you to him when Marko let you down.

"Been playing nice you two?" You batted his hands away, moving out of his arms and cosying up to Paul who was waiting for you with open arms.

His hands wrapped around you, an arm under your thigh and another around your back, keeping you flush against him.

His nose found your hair as he breathed you in, the coldness of his breath tickling you as he whispered in your ear, "y'know we don't care, love, about all those little things."

You nodded looking up at him with shiny eyes, basking in the feel of his long fingers tracing the grooves on your thighs.

"You're ours little dove, marks, moles, and bumps are nothing to be ashamed of. You're beautiful my little lightning bug."

He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours and kissing away your fears, reminding you of their love for you. Bumps, scars and all.

#tlb #the lost boys #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x reader #marko the lost boys #dwayne tlb #the lost boys fic #poly lost boys x reader #david tlb #marko tlb #the lost boys 1987

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staggersz · 6 months

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How do u think tbp boys react to fair rides/ fair food?

I love this question I've actually discussed this with my friends before 🤭

I'm gonna start this off with the ferris wheel and saying Vance is afraid of heights ! He loves rollercoasters and stuff but when Bruce drags him to the ferris wheel Vance is all tense and his eyes are closed the WHOLE time and Bruce just wants his top of the ferris wheel kiss but Vance REFUSES to open his eyes or even move a muscle. Vance only agrees to a kiss on the cheek if Bruce agrees to go on a roller coaster with Vance. Bruce RELUCTANTLY agrees!

Robin and Finney are shoving that in Bruce's face because they're just lost in their own world kissing in the ferris wheel compartment like one away from Bruce and Vance. So safe to say Robin and Finney like the ferris wheel !!

Griffin and Billy also love the ferris wheel but they go on it when the sun is setting so they can just hold hands and enjoy the pretty view. They're in love and in their own little world they're silly.

I feel like Finney, Robin, and Vance are actually fans of roller coasters and like adrenaline rushing rides.

Griffin, Billy, and Bruce; not so much. Griffin and Billy are just frightened and Bruce lowkey has a weak stomach!

On the teacup ride or any ride where you can manually spin the thing you're sitting in, Bruce, Billy, and Griffin are the three just peacefully going around and talking and enjoying their time, while Finney, Robin, and Vance go whipping by screaming as their teacup is literally going as fast as it can go. Surprisingly none of them throw up!

Griffin and Billy LOVEEEE the carousel they go on it a million times and get horses right next to each other. The others don't have to worry about losing them in the crowds because they know they'll just be at the carousel. Either that, or the swing rides where the swings go in the air. I feel like Griffin, Billy, Robin and Finney would love THAT ride because it's like calming but exciting at the same time.

All 6 of them would like bumper cars, no doubt.

Vance and Bruce are the most competitive and literally almost give the others whiplash while Billy and Griffin are just going around the perimeter as fast as possible. Robin and Finney of course team up and slam into everyone else’s bumper cars

Ending off attractions/rides with the mirror maze, Bruce HATES the mirror maze surprisingly. Since he has a bit of odd eyesight now with his right eye being pretty much useless, he can't really comprehend what he's looking at sometimes. So he just holds everyone else's things when they're in there. Griffin and Billy are TERRIFIED of getting lost so they probably skip this one ! Vance just ventures off on his own while Finney and Robin pair up and hold hands while going through. Vance somehow makes it out first and they're standing there for an extra 15 minutes waiting for Robin and Finney to find their way out

When it comes to fair food, Griffin and Bruce aren't huge fans of it. Bruce doesn't want to throw up, so he just gets mint ice cream and a water bottle. Griffin just grew up as a kid who ate really healthy food with the occasional treat. He still has a sweet tooth though, so he shares cotton candy with Billy and gets lemonade! Billy was a kid who grew up going to the fair a lot so he gets pizza and a can of soda. Vance probably just gets a drink because I feel like he wouldn't be a HUGE fan of fair food. He probably also gets a few cherry lollipops. Robin and Finney share funnel cake but also get like popcorn and slushies.

Gonna just add this on since it's a silly prompt:

Since Finney has a pretty good arm, any carnival game that involves throwing something and aiming, he is good at. Doesn't matter how rigged it is.

The day ends with Finney absolutely winning that fair game where you have to knock over milk cans with a baseball. Him and Robin are together at this point, so Finney gets a prize of a stuffed animal and gives it to Robin. Robin is THRILLED he's so happy about it and he's thanking Finney over and over and they’re probably about to start kissing until Billy says “NO PDA”. They're so disgustingly cute /pos

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supermarvelgirl15 · 1 year

Text

When We Drink Cold Water

Summary: You made yourself look up, locking eyes with Joel before you were suddenly plunged into a new world of cold and darkness. You tried to swim back up to the surface, but it was as if the ice-cold water didn't want you to leave. Something was pulling you back down, further away from the much needed air, further away from Joel.

Pairing: Joel Miller × f!reader

Word Count: 3,450

Warnings: Guns, blood, canon-typical violence, near death experiences, choking, almost drowning, angst, and possible hypothermia

A/N: The Last of Us has taken a hold of my life as you can see, so of course I had to write a fic for my grumpy old man! This is my first time writing for Joel, so I apologize if I don't capture him perfectly yet. I hope you all enjoy it!!

Main Masterlist

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It was cold.

The air fogged in front of you with every breath you took, the frigid air filling your lungs. Snow crunching beneath your boots as the two of you walked was the only sound that you could hear in the isolated town that you were trekking through.

You pulled your jacket closer to you as the wind picked up, huffing out a clear sound of annoyance. You didn't want to cut through the town to begin with, saying that it'd be safer to just go around and head straight into the woods.

There was a lesser chance of running into... inconveniences that way.

But Joel said it was quicker this way, and the both of you needed to loot up on supplies anyhow. He said you'd only stay long enough to gather what was needed and then find a place to crash for the night.

So, you followed him–albeit reluctantly–into what used to be a little convenience store, gathering what you could find as quick and thorough as possible. The faster the two of you got out of there the better.

“I used to love getting these,” you said aloud, using the toe of your boot to poke at what used to be an old slushie machine that laid broken on the ground. It was hard to believe that it been almost twenty years since the last time you tasted one.

Joel looked over from where he had found some ammo hidden behind the counter, a huff of air that someone that didn't know him would mistake as a chuckle leaving his nose. “I preferred coffee.”

You wrinkled your nose at the thought of the taste of a bland convenience store coffee. Before you could comment on his apparent addiction, a sound from outside made you stop in your tracks completely.

Voices. Human ones.

Your eyes immediately locked with Joel's as he signaled you to duck down. Whoever it was was just outside the window near you. If you were lucky, they were just fellow travelers just making their way through the town just like you.

You were never that lucky.

Slowly, you crept over to the window, barely peeking your head over to see what exactly you were up against.

There were five men at the least, all of them holding a weapon of some kind as they scanned the streets. It looked as of they were looking for something, or maybe even somebody.

“What do you see?” Joel whispered, staying in his crouched position behind the counter. He held his revolver in his right hand, his finger ready at the trigger.

“At least five men, all armed,” you replied, freezing when the voices of the group outside suddenly go quiet.

The only thing you could hear now was their boots in the snow until someone called out, “I got tracks!”

Your eyes flashed over to Joel once again as you slowly reached for your shotgun that hung on your backpack. Joel raised his hand up to tell you to stop, his eyes flicking up to the window just above your head.

“I think they're in here!” The same voice shouted as he jumped in through the window. Before the man could even react to almost landing on top of you, Joel's revolver shot out a bullet between his eyes.

You were quick to sling your shotgun around then, jumping to hide behind the counter with Joel. All the other men started yelling now, as if the sound of Joel's gun was the signal to start a war.

More shots rung out as the other men blindly fired into the store, their bullets tearing through what little was left on the shelves. You cocked your shotgun, quickly jumping up to fire a shot, just barely missing one of them as they ducked for cover. You swiftly squatted back down with your back to the counter.

“I told you we should've went around,” you muttered annoyingly, tensing when a bullet hits an object off the counter just above you.

“Save it.” Joel jumped up just like you did to shoot, but judging by the scream, he actually hit one. “I'm gonna go out the back and get behind ’em. Stay here and stay down.”

You shake your head. “No, you should stay here and cover me–you've always been the better shot. I can take them down while you distract them.” It was the more logical thing to do, but Joel wouldn't hear it.

“No. Stay here and stay down,” he repeated sternly. You open up your mouth to protest again, but he headed out the back before you could say anything.

Cursing Joel under your breath, you give your attention back to the men outside. They stopped firing, the crunching of the snow giving themselves away. “We know you're in here,” one of them taunts in a singsong voice as he steps inside.

Oh, screw Joel.

You pop up with your shotgun aimed at him, a smirk plastered on your face. “Hey there, handsome.” The man doesn't even get the chance to raise his gun before you've pulled the trigger, flinging him out the door he came from.

The action is enough to give away your position, the others shooting in your direction. You make a break for it and dive behind one of the rotten shelves just as a Molotov was thrown your way. If this wasn't enough distraction for Joel, then he really is getting old.

Just then, you hear a bomb go off, the sound of nails hitting everything in radius, along with the screams of the men that happened to be standing just too close. Hopefully that was all of them.

“You son of a bitch!” Never mind.

You took the chance to look out the window, seeing Joel getting swung at with a bat covered in barbed wire as another man continued to shoot at him.

Quickly, you reloaded and made a run for it out the door, sneaking up behind the man with the gun. “Hey!” You shouted just as you shot him in the chest. You looked up to see the other man using the bat to pin Joel against a wall, the wire cutting into his skin.

Before you could make a move towards him, your body was slammed into the ground, the air escaping your lungs throwing you into a slight panic.

Another man had tackled you into the snow, the momentum causing your shotgun to fly out of your hands. You didn't even get the chance to earn your breath back before his hands found their way around your neck and his knees pinned you down. The look that he held in his eyes was enough to give you nightmares on its own.

Your nails started clawing at his face, desperately trying to get him to loosen his grip on your throat. Your vision was starting to spot and you thought you could hear Joel screaming your name, or was that just the lack of oxygen? You just prayed that he wouldn't die as well.

Your thumbs were finally able to find his devilish eyes, and you shoved them in there as far as you could go. The man yelled then, letting go of your neck to grab your wrists. You took the moment to take a deep breath and used your legs to push him off you. You scrambled after your shotgun that laid just ahead of you in the snow, but paused when you heard a gun click.

Slowly, you turned around on your back, facing him. There was blood dripping down from his eyes, the gun pointed at your face just as deadly as his stare.

“You slut!”

A shot rung out...but you weren't dead.

The gun fell out of his hands, him following after it. You watched as the snow started to soak up the hunter's blood as it pooled around his head. He was dead.

You grabbed your shotgun as you slowly stood back up, your hand reaching up to rub at your throat. You finally tore your eyes away from the body to look at where the shot came from, meeting Joel's eyes that held nothing but anger.

“Than–”

“I told you to stay down.”

Your brows knitted together. “You're welcome? What was I supposed to do? Let ’em kill you?” You inquired, slinging your gun over your shoulder. He couldn't be serious. “Besides, if we had just done it my way, it would've been a whole lot smoother.”

Joel scoffed. “If we had did your way, we both would've been dead.” He bent down to check the man's jacket for anything useful. You just stood there, watching him. He really couldn't be serious.

The sounds of more gunfire interrupted the both of you. Joel picked up the bat that was just used against him moments earlier, the cuts on his hands proof of it. “Let's get a move on.”

You wanted to protest, not wanting to drop the subject so quickly, but was stopped by inhuman screeches coming from the same direction of the gunfire. Runners.

Without another word, the two of you jogged out of the town, heading down a trail through the woods. Neither of you did nothing to get rid of the thick atmosphere that surrounded you, even when the sun began to disappear into the familiar darkness.

Tonight, the darkness brought a frigid cold to join it, the worst of it seeping through your layers. There was something poetic about winter during this new world. The harsh season ripping away what was left of the already decaying world. At least the trees and flowers were given a second chance once spring came. Not everyone was that fortunate.

There was a time when you loved winter. The fluffiness of the snow that made you giddy like you were a kid and the redness that would spread across your cheeks when the wind hit them. Now the once cherished season brought nothing but dread and death. Much like the reality everyone now lived in.

“Here.” Joel started towards a cabin that set up on a hill. The wood had seen better days, but so had you. All of the windows were boarded up from the inside. Someone had holed up here at one time. Hopefully they were no longer were.

Joel opened the door up with a shiv, peeking his head in as he scanned the room. He nodded his head towards you, meaning it was clear.

Once you stepped inside, you could still feel the ghosts of the ones that used to live here. Your feet stopping when your eyes landed on a discarded teddy bear. Maybe they were still alive somewhere.

Maybe.

Sitting down in one of the near rotted chairs, Joel dug through his backpack, pulling out his canteen of water. “Take this,” he said, holding it towards you.

You sat down on the molded couch, your back to him. “I'm good,” you replied shortly. You bit the inside of your cheek as you dug through your bag for your own canteen. “I can actually take care of myself, believe it or not.”

Joel ran his hand over his face, dropping his canteen back into his pack. “You're still on that shit?”

You faced him then as you stood back up, your bag falling over. “Yes, Joel, I'm still on ‘that shit.’ I don't know where you got the idea that I'm totally helpless without you. I survived long before I met you, Miller.” You shoved a finger in his direction. “If it wasn't for me today, you would've been dead.”

Joel stood up as well, taking a few steps towards you. “You were almost killed,” he seethed. “If you had listened to me none of that shit would've happened!” He shoved the chair behind him across the room, but you didn't flinch. You were too fired up to care.

“I had it under control. We've had plenty of close calls before,” you pointed out.

An incredulous laugh left Joel's lips. “Under control? Then explain that.” Joel gestured to your bruised neck, your fingers reaching up to ghost over it. “If I was just a second too late, you would've been good as dead.”

If you weren't so blinded by your rage, you would've caught the catch in his throat as the words left him. “What are you saying, Joel?” You asked, your fists clenching at your sides.

“If it wasn't for me, you would've been killed a long time ago.” His words struck you like a knife, the voice in your head reminding you of what you feared all along, pushing the knife even deeper. You wouldn't listen to him. You couldn't.

You gathered yourself before you spoke again. “If I'm so useless to you, then why did you want me to go to Boston? The only reason I'm even out here is because of you. So tell me, Joel, why?” You asked through gritted teeth.

Joel just stood there, not saying a word. You waited for what felt like an eternity for him to say anything, but he didn't. You nodded, taking his silence as an answer, and bent down to pick up your bag. “I'm done.”

You headed back out the door, the wind burning into your face, but you didn't care. You needed to get of there. Now.

You could hear Joel's boots as he came out behind you. “What the hell are you doing?” He called after you, but you continued on.

“I don't need you to babysit me. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!” You called back, refusing to face him. You just needed to get out of here.

“You are goin’ out in the middle of nowhere when it's freezing-cold. Smart!” Joel continued, staying just behind you.

Your hands tightened around yourself as you kept your eyes forward. “Then quit following me!”

When you heard his boots stop moving behind you, you thought for once that Joel finally listened to you. But again, you were never that lucky.

“Come back here, now.” His voice was lower than it had been, but that didn't deter you.

“No!”

“Stop!”

“I don't need to listen to a word that comes out of your fu–”

You finally stopped when you heard something crack beneath you. Your eyes slowly casted down to see fractures of ice run in different directions under your feet. Joel was saying something to you, but it fell upon deaf ears, your mind racing with everything that led you to this very single moment.

You made yourself look up, locking eyes with Joel before you were suddenly plunged into a new world of cold and darkness. You tried to swim back up to the surface, but it was as if the ice-cold water didn't want you to leave. Something was pulling you back down, further away from the much needed air, further away from Joel. Your backpack felt like you had nothing but hundreds of bricks in it, dragging you to the bottom. The coldness stiffened your body, making it harder and harder to move.

Right when you started to give in to the icy darkness, something grabbed you by under your arms and pulled you up towards the surface. As soon as you broke free, you gasped for air, the remaining water in your mouth turning your lungs into icicles. The frigid air mixed with the freezing water that soaked into your clothes made it hard to do anything aside from violently shaking, your body working as much as it could to give you at least a little warmth. It wasn't working, especially with the cold air making it difficult to breathe.

The arms that pulled you up now wrapped their selves around you, picking you up. “I gotcha. It's okay, I gotcha.” You heard a voice repeat the mantra several times, but you couldn't make out who it belonged to. You turned your face to bury yourself into their jacket, the familiar scent of gunpowder and wood flooding your senses.

“J-J-Joel?”

“Shhh, I got you, sweetheart,” Joel comforted you, using his foot to open the door to the cabin. “I'm gonna get you warmed up, okay? Here,” he gently set you down in front of the fireplace, “I'm gonna get some wood. Stay here.”

You nodded the best you could, holding yourself as tightly as you could manage. Joel brought back a blanket he had found in the bedroom, wrapping it around your shoulders before promising he'd be right back.

Your eyelids felt heavy, but you knew better than to close them. You knew if you closed them now, it was more than likely that you'd never open them again. It was easier to keep them open with the help of your teeth chattering non-stop.

Just as promised, Joel came back in with some firewood, quickly throwing them into the fireplace. It took him a few tries to get the fire going with his lighter, the cold wood not wanting to give him what he so desperately needed. He cursed to himself, grabbing a pillow from the couch and used it to feed the fire.

Joel let out a sigh of relief as he turned to look back at you, the short-lived relief immediately leaving him at the sight of your closed eyes. He grabbed your face, patting your cheeks firmly. “Hey, I need you to keep them eyes open for me, sweetheart. C'mon now,” he said to you gently, your eyes fluttering open. Apparently your chattering teeth did nothing to help.

Biting his lip, Joel slowly pulled the blanket off you. “You need to get out of your wet clothes,” he told you as he took your backpack off. You tried to help him, but he shook his head. “Let me do it.”

Layer by layer, Joel took your clothes off, throwing them to the other side of the room. You attempted to smile at him as he wrapped you back up in the blanket. “You're su-supposed to take, t-take me to dinner f-first,” you joked as your teeth grinded together.

Joel tried to return something of a tired smile back to you. “Maybe next time,” he replied, shrugging his jacket off. Your eyes widened as he started to take the rest of his clothes off as well.

“W-w-what are y-you–”

“You need body heat,” Joel stated, taking the blanket to wrap around the both of you. He gently laid you both on the ground in front of the fire, holding you against him with your back to his chest.

The two of you laid there in silence, waiting for your shaking to subside. You watched the fire dance in front of you, the flames performing a show before your very eyes. The firey performers couldn't hold your attention, however, your mind solely focusing on the arms that held you together.

“I'm s-s-sorry,” you apologized, fighting against the tears that pricked your eyes. “Y-you were r-right.”

You felt Joel shift behind you. “About what?”

A shaky breath ran through your body. “I'd never m-make it without y-you,” you admitted. Joel remained quiet for a moment, leaving you to your tormented thoughts, before slowly turning you to face him.

“You'd be a whole lot better off without me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed together. “I almost fr-froze to death in a l-lake. I don't th-think so,” you scoffed.

Joel took a deep breath. “If it wasn't for me, none of that shit today would have happened.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you. “You're one hell of a survivor. I've just been too caught up to remember that.”

You raised a brow. “C-caught up in what?”

He just raked his eyes over your face, running a calloused thumb over your cheek. “We can save it for later. Let's just get you warmed up first.” Joel pulled the blanket over you more, snapping out of whatever trance he was just in.

Slowly, you allowed yourself to lay your head on his chest, holding him closer to you. Your heart began to race as you overturned his words over and over in your head. You wondered if he knew how long you've prayed for a moment like this with him, aside from the possible hypothermia.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“I've b-been caught up, too.”

You hoped your words meant the same to him, squirming slightly when he remained silent. Your head rose up with his chest as he let out a shaky breath, his grip tightening around you.

Joel leaned down, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Get some rest, sweetheart.”

The fire held no comparison to the warmth that filled you while you laid there with him.

××××××

#joel miller × reader #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #troy baker #kay writes

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