#Stretch x reader

[sillyunknownkitkat]

Undertale, Underswap, and underfell brothers react to a reader (platonic or not) that is hyper sexual

Mind that you're responsible for your own consumption, vague nsfw under the cut and sentive topics

No dni banner because there's nothing really explicit but it's implied

Undertale :

Sans

He noticed slight changes in your attitude before your crisis started. You were getting more and more bold, which is quite unusual for you.

Sans was worried for the few day you disappeared but understood that you may not want him to know about your problems. It didn't make him any less curious though.

It was a week after your first "symptoms" that he really got worried. So he went to your hiding place to confront you about it.

"Knock knock" Sans said, standing right in front of the bedroom's door.

"Sans?" You asked surprised and a bit panicked.

"S'not how the joke goes, kid. Knock knock." His tone wasn't particularly harsh, but he made it clear that he wasn't leaving. He used a tone that you had learned to interpret since knowing him.

"Who's there?" You said recluantly, you didn't want anyone to know about your bad habits

"Will." You thought for a bit, trying to guess the end of the joke but couldn't figure it out with your head still full of what's currently going on

"Will who?" Sans smiles a bit. Even in bad times, he still likes his jokes. It helps him relax a little.

"Will you open the door so we can talk face to face?"

So after putting on a sweatshirt and pyjama's pants, you get up and open the door.

"Hey.." You look down at his slippers.

"Hey, how 'bout we sit down and talk a bit, mh? M'not upset with you, just worried."

After you both settle down on the bed, you bring your knees to your chest and wait for him to start talking.

"Soooo, what's up, kiddo?"

Yeah... This is awkward for the both of you

So after you explained the things you were doing and how you felt while he patiently listened, he just asked you one thing.

"Is it because of a traumatic event you've been through?"

Now I let you decide what happened or not because everyone is different, but let's just say that if a person did something to make you feel that way, they're going to have a not so friendly chat with Sans.

Papyrus

Now, this cutie definitely didn't wait to ask you what was going on. I imagine him being autistic

So, while our pretty boy is definitely not stupid, I like to think he still struggles a bit with social clues. This means that he did ask you as soon as he noticed, but it might have taken quite a while.

Now, we all now Sans almost canonically struggles with depression so Paps can definitely help you a bit.

So, since no one can resist that cool face, you explained what was going on and let me tell you... That man was upset! Not at you but at the fact that you felt that way and he couldn't do anything about it. Not that it was his fault, but yk (*￣∇￣)ノ

Now he spent days telling you how amazing you were, how he loved you (platonically or not *wink wink*), and trying to get you attention on something else than your problem so you'd feel better.

Because you do. Not "maybe", you do 😭🔫😾

The cat is me, obviously 🙄

Underswap :

Blue (sans)

Might get hate on this one, but I think he struggles with hypersexuality too. I don't remember who's Au's it is, but there is one where he's popular on Instagram and where he's close friend with Viper (sf sans from that au which I use). So he knew what was going on before you told him.

Bb explained that he was like that, too, so you guys took care of each other :3

Like getting in comfy clothes, cooking a bit, cuddling, watching a movie, ... whatever you want!

And like spa treatments to echother too!

I'll probably write a part two for him in the future because, like this scenario + him, it's just ✨️perfect✨️

Stretch (us papyrus)

Even tho he's younger than blue, he still took care of his brother and therefore knew what was going on too. So when he sees you, he just picks you up with his magic, drags you to the couch, and pretty much instantly falls asleep on you. Well, he's not really sleeping, but you don't know that.

After a while, you start to cry silently because you feel kind of disgusting. Stretch cling to you a tiny bit harder and starts to purr "in his sleep" to try and console you.

Yes, skeletons purr, don't ask me why or how.

Anyway, after a while of being soothed, you fall asleep, and Stretch is smiling like an idiot because he managed to help you even the tiniest bit.

After both of you wake up, he goes to ask Blue what he can do to help you and apply with the wtv he tells him.

Blue might even join to talk to you a bit :)

Underfell :

Red (uf sans)

He knew what was going on but didn't want to bother you with it. The man already knows how hard it is when you're going through tough times.

So he kinda let you be but sometimes he comes buy and offer you to do some things.

It's not in a really nice way but not rude either, just a bit rough, I guess

He was like, "How 'bout you do something instead of just lying there, huh?"

He is not an asshole. He just grew up in a difficult world and therefore kinda has a stick stuck up in his non-existent ass.

If you don't move, he'll literally drag you out of bed and sit you on the couch with a movie already picked paused on the TV.

If you talk about it, he'll listen and suggest things that might help you, but if you don't, he'll do whatever he can while being "subtle."

Edge (uf papyrus)

He catched you crying when he opened the door of your bedroom to ask you to come downstairs since dinner was ready. Now Edge is by no means a cruel person, but he had to do things to survive in the underground. I like to think that when they all got out, he and Red cut links with most of the other monsters.

So now he got quite a lot softer, but it's still Edge, so don't expect too much.

He sat down next to you and brung a hand to your back (a bit awkwardly, but the man is learning people)

"I'M HERE IF YOU NEED TO TALK." he told you in the softest voice he could manage to get out (it wasn't soft, but since you know him and how he talked you understood that he was trying)

Same as his brother, if you talk, he'll listen, but he might be a bit more insistant with his advice. Again, not in a rude way, just in his way of saying thing.

If you don't, he'll probably get a little offended that you don't trust him even after he tried his best to be soft but still understands why you may not want to talk about your problems.

Not verified afterwards, sorry ;^;

So this is it :) it's a bit shitty ngl but I tried my best.

Kinda self indulge, honestly, but I'm better now so dw

If you have a similar problem or even another one, my dm's are opened, don't stay alone in your misery.

I might not answer right away (I live in Western Europe), but I will as soon as I can

Have a good day/night, and be safe, everyone. <3

[skeleton-mischief]

🧡🍯US!Papyrus x Reader🍯🧡

Stretch may not have experience in love, but he knows that he loves you. He promises to do his best, if you'll have him

Some Swap Papyrus x reader love here :)

Receiving:

- Quality Time: 35%. Nothing really shows that he's loved like having his partner give their undivided attention. He wants someone to actually care about his interests and spend time with him

- Words of Affirmation: 32%. He wants to hear the praise of others, to be encouraged. He doesn't have great confidence, but if he had his partner praise his drawings you bet he's giddy and flustered. Insults or empty praise will hurt

- Physical Touch: 23%. Simple touches can make him flustered, but it means a lot to feel a sense of belonging and love when someone cuddles with him on the couch or holds his face to give him a kiss on the cheek

- Acts of Service: 6% Someone who is willing to do a project with him or do something with him means a lot, it shows that someone cares about his passions

- Receiving Gifts: 3% He doesn't expect gifts, but he has his gifts on him at all times for a reason. He feels loved seeing someone give him something they obviously put thought into

Giving:

- Quality Time: 33%. He wants to reciprocate what his partner provides. Even if there's not much happening, he wants to be around and keep his partner company and show that he's attentive and always tries to make it on time

- Physical Touch: 30% He's a lovestruck dork, he wants to kiss their face, their hands, rub their back, cuddle, all of it

- Words of Affirmation: 13% He wants to make sure his partner knows he appreciates them and finds what they do amazing. He always tries to speak with reassurance and interest, wants people to feel good when they're down

- Acts of Service: 13%. Let him do the dishes when you're tired, let him do your laundry. It's okay, he knows you're tired and he wants to relieve you of stress

- Gift Giving: 10%. He remembers more about what people like than others expect, so he'll sometimes buy gifts as a sign of appreciation. He always remembers what they like, always

_______________________________________________

When you first meet, it's on the bus. There wasn't any room, and you were made to choose to sit between the skeleton monster and the old lady that was muttering to herself about kids these days. Of course, you sat by the skeleton. He seemed to avoid eye contact when you asked if you could sit next to him, but he didn't deny you the right to choose where you sat. After a while, you notice that he's eyeing your satchel. At first, you're confused, only to realize that he's looking at your keychain. It's a small bee on a sunflower, something you found cute when at the mall a few years back. You ask him if he likes bees, and he is a little startled that you spoke since neither of you have talked since you asked to sit. He seems a little embarrassed, but he tells you that he really loves bees. You ask him if he has anything that has to do with bees and he gladly shows you his phone case. It's cute, and you share that you find bees super cute. It's not lot until he starts to ramble a bit, and yet you don't mind. He seems genuinely enthusiastic about them, sharing facts as he's smiling. Something tells you that he really loves to talk about things he likes. It's....cute. By the time you two almost reach your bus stop, he seems to catch himself suddenly as he makes eye contact with you. He turns orange with blush, and he quickly apologizes.

You don't know what face you made to make him so shy again, but you reassure him that you found it pleasant to hear him talk. He pauses for a moment, as if in disbelief, and he mumbles something. "You...really meant that." When you ask what he said since you didn't hear him correctly, he clears his throat (skeleton monsters do that??) and asks "did you really mean that?" You tell him yes, and he seems relieved. In fact, you suddenly move the keychain off your satchel. He's confused when you give it to him, smiling as you tell him to take it. He tries to change your mind, unsure as to why you are giving it to him, but you're persistent. You not only want to prove that you actually enjoyed his rambling, but you think he'd appreciate it more. The bus stops and it's time to leave, so you stand up as you let go of the keychain and have it land on top of his skeletal hand. You wave goodbye, and he shyly waves back, but you don't see how his eye lights dilate when you go.

He makes sure to remember you.

When he found out what you were going to possibly be the new roommate? He was quick to welcome you. He may not have said anything to the others much, but clearly he has never been this...eager? It's hard to hide, especially when he starts acting more social with you. He's a little shy at the beginning of your friendship, but you both bond over video games and other interests. He's always thinking about you when he goes somewhere like a game store, or even a bakery. He can't help it, he just thinks that you'd like certain things. He'll start picking up more, taking care of things when he sees you're overwhelmed. He's one of the lazy Papyri that actively will help do laundry, putting away dishes, etc. He's not really intense when it comes to jealousy, especially since he knows that he's not entitled to your time or attention. Still, he tends to be a bit more quiet, a little bit more snarky towards the other, but he doesn't communicate very well. There would be moments he will apologize though if you confront him, as he's more embarrassed than harsh about it. He only gets jealous if someone clearly has interest in you, but when you're in the friendship stage he won't tell you that. You'll most likely tease him since "awe, are you jealous? Is it because you're afraid that he's prettier than you? Trust me, he's not." As soon as you both get to laughing, he'll apologize again and he tries to work on it.

His confession would be from a heart to heart. He hasn't been confident about confessing to you, especially since he doesn't want to ruin anything. Instead, he wants to value your friendship. But, imagine it.

It's raining, the sky's a dull grey as the light pitter patter of the droplets can be heard tapping against your umbrella. You had forgotten to bring one, but Stretch brought one suitable for two. You two decide to walk home instead of teleporting, especially since you knew about Stretch's situation. It wasn't that he wanted to avoid some of the other skeletons because he was upset, but it was clear that tension was there. You ask if you two can walk towards the hill in order to stay out longer, and he agrees with a small smile. He looks worn out, but you can tell he appreciates the idea. The two of you find your way up there, and there's a large rock near the top. You decide that it's fine if your butt gets a little wet from the rain, so you sit down and get him to do the same despite his slight reluctance. The two of you start to talk after some minutes pass of staring into the distance. "Do you believe in soulmates?" "As in the ones that are in your stories? Destined to be together?" "Yes! Do you?" "....well, I'd like to believe in it," and you tease him slightly. You agree, though. After all, wouldn't it really be nice if you had a person who would love you despite everything? You tease him, and he does the same as he bumps his shoulder against yours. "Well, you don't need a soulmate for that" is what he says, his eyes slowly softening as he gazes at you from under the umbrella. You laugh, but it's clear you don't believe that. You're too much of a mess. He asks if you wouldn't love someone for that, but of course you say no. You wouldn't want someone to feel unloved for that. He pokes at the flaw within your logic, and he smiles as he teases you lightly. Who wouldn't love you? You're a dork, but you're sweet and kind. You have an air of warmth to you. Someone would be a fool to think that you're not loveable. You start to smile at this, and your soul feels a little tingly. "Well, do you love me?"

But there's a pause when you wait for his answer. He seems suddenly shy, and he looks away. "...of course I do," but you don't seem to realize just yet how much he means it. You tell him that you love him too, and after some silence he murmurs "yeah, I know you do," but he seems to be thinking about something. You ask him what's wrong, and with hesitance he responds. "But I love you, like...really, really love you." And when he looks at you, it clicks for you what he means. He looks away quickly, staring at the distance as he tries not to think about the slight tremble of his hands. "......I'm sorry if....sorry if that was too forward. It's just- it's just that I really feel that way. But maybe you don't need that, and that's okay. If you don't feel the same way, then you can forget about what I said, yeah?" And yet, the whole time, he's stuttering a bit as he falters. "I don't want you to feel like you're unloved, is all. Because if you ever feel that way, know that- that someone does love you. Always will, soulmates or not."

The rain seems to sound quieter as your ears are filled with a slight muffle, your lips parted as you look at him. He seems too nervous to look back. You had asked him if he loved you as a joke, at least partially. In truth, you felt your soul humming with a sensation that's unfamiliar. You didn't think he actually would've told you the truth, let alone...love you. He flinches when he feels your hand gently sliding and wrapping around his arm. "...well, I hope you know that includes you too, dork." And you feel his bones rattle slightly before he breaths out shakily. Your eyes cast forward, and you feel your body leaning more against him as he rests his skull against your head. You speak up again, and you can hear something faintly akin to a distant song as you do so. "I think I'm okay with soulmates not existing, because at least I...at least I know that someone loves me by their own free will instead of it being because of fate. I love you too."

There are no words exchanged, but it becomes subconsciously known that your souls are indeed singing in sync. Your bond has grown, and by the time it's ready for you two to go back home, it's because Powder called wondering where you two were. You take your time walking home, and your arms don't move from his as you keep yourself wrapped against it all the way until you go home...

As a lover, it would take some time for the two of you to actually start calling each other anything at all. It's just not something he's used to, but he still makes sure to treat you well. He'll feel more comfortable with touch, even if he's a blushing mess. White lies that he gets from a lot of people slowly has chipped away at his confidence and trust in others opinion. However, having his partner be sincere in their compliments and really mean it? Holllllly fuck is he awestruck. Having you show interest in what he's talking about or going out of your way to remember what he likes has him falling head over heels for you, as it really proves to him that you actually care about him. Praising his work and being able to be sweet with him? Extra bonus, he will go so far as to excitedly show you his newest projects, a gleam in his eye all the while. As long as he can take care of you too, taking the time to check if you're okay, then he's happy. He wants to pull his weight, and overall he's going to be a sappy lover who brags about you as much as he brags about his brother. He just needs to work on his communication skills, which can be helped with someone who can be patient with him. When it comes to romantic gestures, he's sappy and will often ask to take you on dates or hell bring you a gift he picked up. He won't plan ahead, but he'll sit you down and you both can collaborate on a cute date where the two of you can be close.

Sometimes, if he's almost late to a date, he'll be caught actually running rather than teleporting while he's holding flowers or gifts as he's apologizing profusely. He always looks exhausted from the physical activity, but he looks like a dork in the process. He'll only be reassured if he sees that you're not upset and if he's verbally told that it's okay, but even then he'll be overthinking since that's what he always does. And remember, never expect him to be in a suit, but do expect him to look more dressed up than usual. He's such a cuddly, sappy skeleton

Closing Notes: I swear I posted this but I forgor I think. Forgive me, I'm already tap dancing on top of a volcano. I love him sm, like oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my go

[undertale-writing-times]

“I’m a burden, aren’t I?” with Stretch, please?

Thanks for asking! This was fun. 

Sometimes Stretch didn't, no not didn't; he couldn't force himself to get out of bed. Those were the bad days, days where he wouldn't want to do anything. Hell, sometimes he has a hard time even breathing during those days.

Blueberry would often call him lazy, and tell him to get up, but he would just joke and brush it off and Blueberry would stop bugging him after a bit. It made Stretch feel bad, but he knew that he couldn't handle it! He couldn't handle talking to people or just getting up.

It was troublesome.

Today was one of those days.

He laid on the bed, with his head resting on his arms, his eyes shut. He's been having bad dreams again, things that he thought he's gotten over... or at least things that he thought he could brush off now. Dreaming of resets. Ha, of course.

Ugh.

He hated that sorta stuff. He hated how many times they had to be killed over and over again. Did he blame the kid? Maybe? He didn't really know, not anymore.

While he was laying there he heard footsteps, then knocking on the door. Stretch lets out a slow breath and moves a pillow over to hide his face in it. Go away Blue, he didn't wanna talk right now.

The door opened and he heard a voice he wasn't expecting, "Stretch? Are you okay?"

His bones locked for a second. Wait... that was Y/n? What was Y/n doing here? They weren't supposed to hang out today, were they? No, he didn't remember them making plans or anything.

He lifts his head to look over at them, frowning slightly, and asks, "What... are you doing here?"

"Your brother called me, he said that you're not feeling real good," They walk over, sit beside him on the bed and they start to rub his back, "Do you want to talk about what's going on?"

“I’m a burden, aren’t I?”

He sees Y/n's eyes widen, and they tilt their head, asking, "What do you mean?"

"Sometimes I just can't get up out of bed. I should be able to do more but I just... can't!" he holds up his arms, then drops them, sighing. "I just feel like I'm being a burden."

"Stretch," They mumble, frowning and they reach over to place their hands on his cheeks, "You aren't a burden at all. You do things at your own pace, and you're trying to do your best and that's amazing. Sometimes people have bad days... I don't think anyone blames you for that." They rub their thumb against his cheek as they spoke, his eyesockets shut.

Well, what about Blueberry? He just thought that Stretch was lazy, and sure, he was a bit lazy, but it was normally just cause he couldn't handle anything else. His emotions would work against him.

Y/n continues to talk, "Hey, why don't we just spend the day together in here? We can lay together and chat, huh?" He looks at them, their smile, and couldn't help his own little grin. He nods in approval and pulls them into a hug, falling back onto his bed hearing them laugh, telling him to knock it off.

Stretch, of course, wasn't at 100% but he had a feeling that Y/n would be a lot of help...

[ask-sibverse]

for the ask meme, a stolen kiss reader x swap papyrus

Oh hell yes we're getting a Paps!

"you look like shit."

You looked up to see Stretch in the doorway, watching you. You'd ended up with a bad cold after you and the Stars ended up in a blizzard while trying to protect that AU's Snowdin. One of these days you'd actually remember to bring proper snow gear, but it was hard to figure out when you'd need it or not. Lucky skeletons with their immunity to temperature and no immune system to worry about.

"Fleshy humans don't handle cold and wet very well," you grumbled, laying back on the couch. At least out in the living room you could watch TV better and it was less work to get to the kitchen when you actually felt up to eating something.

"Bro wants me to look after you today," Stretch said, stepping into your apartment some more. He looked around. "Have you been living out of your living room?"

"Closer to everything." You ended up having a bit of a coughing fit, making Stretch look at you with concern.

"I have an entire list from Blue of things I'm supposed to do for you." You both laughed a bit at that. "First on the list is soup."

"I've got canned soup in the cupboard you don't have to go all Blue and make it from scratch."

Stretch nodded, making his way into the kitchen. He spent the day looking after you, but in the lazy, casual way you'd come to know and expect from him. Bundled up in blankets on the couch, watching TV together while Stretch cracked the occasional lame pun. You closed your eyes, dozing off for a bit. Being sick was exhausting.

At some point you started waking up, but eyes remained closed, too comfortable to truly start getting up.

"stars you're absolutely angelic asleep," Stretch said softly. He must not have realized you'd started waking up. "Forgive me, but I can't resist you like this." Bony teeth gently pressed against your lips before quickly disappearing. A kiss...?

[i-arch-my-backula]

Painting slashers nails

So I'm struggling with requests and I feel bad for not posting anything lately so I'm doing this. This is also my first time writing for Stretch so please be nice.

Includes: Bubba Sawyer, Stretch Brock, Amanda Young, Jason Voorhees, Baby Firefly

Warnings: None I can think of

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba will be vibrate with joy when you offer to paint his nails. His brothers will probably make fun of him but you're going to defend him and that's what really gets him to let you paint his nails.

He want's the classic red nails. He's seen so many pretty women wearing read nails and he wants to be just like them. Please call baby girl Bubba pretty, that's all he wants.

Will watch you paint his nails and will try really hard to be careful with them while they're drying but he might mess them up on accident, he's sorry Y/n he really is.

Will want to match nails with you. Please let him try to paint your nails too. He's either really good at it, or horrible and gets it all over your fingers, no in between.

Stretch Brock

I'm putting this in where we see her briefly in part three where she's a news anchor. She has to stay looking neat and professional so if you're good at doing nails she'll happily let you do it.

She probably has to keep the color muted so she'll pick a nice nude or berry color for you to use.

Will talk to you the entire time you paint her nails. Just about anything she can think of.

When you're done she'll offer to do yours in whatever color you want to use. She finds doing cute little things like this relaxing and fun.

Amanda Young

She'll happily let you paint her nails as long as she gets to pick the color of the polish. She'll go for a dark purple or just plain black.

She likes watching you do things in general so watching you paint her nails is no different.

She might offer to paint your nails or to give you a kinda makeover. I feel like she's been waiting to make you look edgy if you're not normally edgy. But if you are, especially if you're alternative in some way she'll want you to do her makeup.

While her nails dry she'll ask you to help her with things. Might even do it after her nails are dry just because she can.

Jason Voorhees

You'll be the one to suggest it to him and he'll love it. He has pretty nasty nails, even as a human so you'll have to deal with that first.

But after that he's all yours. You can chose the color and everything. You can do nail art, add jewels, whatever you wanna do, go for it.

Also use this time to like notice how big and rough his hands are. You'll suggests buffing out the dead skin but he's going to insist he needs his hands rough for his work.

He will get so sad when it starts to chip or it smudges so he's going to go to you for help. Please make it better Y/n.

Baby Firefly

She's so happy to have you do her nails. Can she do yours, can you two give each other makeovers?!

She'll want a sparkly pink color and will not wait for it to dry before moving around so get out a hair dryer and force her to sit still.

But she'll love the final outcome of it, especially if you did nail art with jewels.

She has to keep her nails short because of the activities that she does but she'll also be really sad when the polish chips or a jewel falls off so she'll have you redo it for her.

[dragonridernoobie]

UnderSwap Papyrus X Abused!reader

Stretch (Papyrus)<-

(Y/N) <-

Ex BF <-

Cashier <-

Blue (Sans) <-

Note: this is supposed to be a friendly fanfic, but if you are in a abusive relationship, don't be afraid to reach out! There's help. More info at the bottom.

Stretch was sitting on a bench at the local park. He had a cigarette between his teeth that he was taking pulls from. His hands were inside the pouch of his orange hoodie, his one leg crossed over his other, and he had on black sweatpants. It was a nice fall day, and stretch was enjoying the weather. The tall skeleton looked exhausted, bags under his eyes sockets like he wasn't getting enough sleep. He took his hand out of his pocket to pull the cig from his mouth to exhale the smoke, sighing as he did. While he relaxs, he hears someone call his name. When he sees who is calling him, he sees his best friend/crush (Y/N).

"Hmm?"

He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, looking over to see Y/N).

"Oh, hey (Y/N)"

He said, waving to (Y/N). (Y/N) sits next to him

"How are ya stretch."

"Tired. Always tired."

He said, taking another drag from his smoke.

"It's good to see you, though. What are you doing here?"

"Was passing thru the park to go to this new sandwich shop."

"Sandwich shop, you say?"

He said, intrigued.

"What kind of sandwiches we talking about."

"Don't know, it's a new shop that was opened yesterday. All I know about it is that the sandwiches are cheap. Like there 5$ per sandwich."

"You're already talking my language."

He says, giggling a bit.

"Cheap sandwiches? Lead the way."

He says with a chuckle. They then head over to the sandwich shop and go inside

"Dam...it's pretty nice inside."

"Yeah, it is."

Stretch says, looking around the joint.

"They have a lot of seating, too. That's always good, which means they're not always busy."

The shop was a nice calm look. Warm lights, warm colors everywhere. Pictures of flowers and animals, the smell of sandwiches and coffee in the air. They walk up to the cashier and look at the menu

"Hi, welcome to sandwich sky's. What can I get you to?"

"Could I get a turkey sandwich with light Mayonnaise, please? Stretch?"

"Just a BLT, extra bacon please."

Stretch says, looking over to (Y/N). He leans his elbows on the counter, looking at (Y/N) and smiling at her.

"ok, drinks?"

"Rootbeer, please, stretch?"

"Some honey would be great."

He says, his lips curving in a smile that held warmth.

"ok, that will be 13.21$."

(Y/N) pulls out her wallet and looks at stretch

"You can pay me next time by taking me back here."

She then pays for their meal and goes to sit down and wait.

"Alright."

Stretch said, watching her hand the cashier the money. After a bit, the casber comes over with their food. The cashier handed them the food.

"This place is actually pretty chill."

"indeed."

(Y/N) unwrapps her sandwich and takes a bite

"My this is good."

"Agreed."

Stretch said, taking the first bite of his sandwich. He hummed in satisfaction. The bacon was a nice touch, crunchy, but not overly salty or greasy.

"This is a damn good BLT. I can't believe they can sell these for 5 bucks, this is a great deal."

They both finish their sandwiches and just stay in the sitting area, sipping on their drinks while talking.

"God, why don't all places have cheap sandwiches this good? The last place I went was like 12 bucks, and it wasn't even as good as this."

He took another sip from his honey, setting it down. He seemed to be in a better mood, as if the sandwich helped him relax.

"prices, sales, etc. I wouldn't be surprised if prices of this place go up in the next few months."

"God I hope not. This is a great little joint."

He said, stretching out and relaxing back, his hands resting on the back of the chair.

"So, what have you been up to?"

"...well, as you know, I'm still trying to break up with my boyfriend, but it's been... hard."

"Ahhh..."

He said, not seeming surprised. He knew his friend was in a bit of a rough patch.

"Still having problems?"

"ya, I keep finding him cheating on me, and as much as I would love to break up with him, I can't because I live with him."

"He lives with you..."

He said and sighed.

"What's stopping you from kicking him on out? I feel like if he's cheating, it should be a done and done deal."

He takes another sip from his honey.

"rent, I won't be able to pay it on my own if I move I to a new place."

"No other roommates to help with that?"

He said, looking at her curious.

"Nah, so I'm just pretending to be in love with him...even tho I do that, it still hurts to find him in bed with another bitch."

"Damn..."

He said, not really knowing what else to say.

"Have, have you tried to, talk to him about this, about him cheating on you, I mean?"

"yep, and keeps saying "I promise to never do that again" biggest fucking lie."

"God, he sounds like a dick."

He says, sighing a bit and looking over to her.

"Have you at least started looking for some one-bedroom places to stay?"

"None here that's in my rage of money."

"Damn..."

He sighed, thinking it over.

"No parents or family you trust that you can stay with till you get that sorted?"

"Nah."

"Well damn, that sucks...."

He said, sipping on his honey. The honey was nearly done. He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You could always stay with me."

He said, looking at (Y/N). She perks up at this

"That...I might do that, but what about your brother?"

"I'm sure he wont care."

He said, shrugging and making a small gesture with one of his hands. his face now holding something of an embarrassed expression.

"Hmm...IL think about it."

"Hey, no rush... Take your time thinking it over."

He said, looking away from her a bit and glancing around the diner. He leaned forward a bit on the chair, sipping his drink some more.

"You can stay as long as you like... It'd make me happy."

(Y/N) smiles and nods. She then gets up

"Anyway, I need to get going. I was glad to see ya again."

"See you soon..and I mean it. If you can stay with me, you're always welcome."

He said, leaning back and getting up.

"It was good seeing you as always, (Y/N)"

They walk out and give each other a hug before going separate ways. Their goodbye hug was long and full of warmth. He waved at her when they broke the hug, and she was walking off to go on with her day. His gaze followed her, and the smile that remained on his face was not one that would easily fade that day. Later in the evening stretch and his brother were in the living room watching TV. It was around 9 pm. While they watched TV, stretch the phone started to ring. Stretch reached into his pocket and looked down to his phone and saw that it was (Y/N) calling. He smiled at her name and answered.

"Yo, you called?"

He asked as he brought the phone to his ear. He hears sniffling and muffled crying.

"(Y/N)?"

He asked, a bit worried for his friend.

"You okay? Did something happen?"

His brother blue paused the TV and looked over at him with confusion. He waves at stretch to put the phone on speaker so he can here to, since he was also good friends with (Y/N). He nods and presses the speaker button, holding the phone out between him and his brother. They both here (Y/N) finally say something

"Can...can you come pick me up please."

She says and cries a little at the end. He looked over at his brother, confusion turning somewhat to worry on his face as he heard (Y/N) words.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I can do that."

He said, not questioning what was happening yet, but ready to get to (Y/N) as soon as possible.

"We will be there in a bit, okay? Stay put."

When his brother and him go into the car and drive to (Y/N)'s place. She is seen sitting on the curb, hugging her knees and crying. He parked as close as he could to where (Y/N) was sitting and got out of the car, walking over. His expression changed as he got closer to her, a worried look coming over his face. He sat down beside her and gave her a comforting pat on the back. His brother is sitting next to her too.

"What's going on? What happened?"

When she looked at him, her face was covered in bruises and cuts

"I..I told him I was breaking up with him and moving out, and he beat me."

His brother, who saw how bad her face was, ran to the car to grab the first-aid kit. He gasped when he saw her face, his breath catching in his throat.

"Oh my god...."

He said, quickly putting one of his hands on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

He looked at her face, not really sure what to do in this situation.

"Was he still there when you left? Is he in the house?"

(Y/N) nodded, and let's Blue fix up their face. He looked to his brother and watched as he got to fixing her face while he remained silent. He was concerned for (Y/N), but he didn't really know what to say to help. He reached his hand out and gently rubbed her back, just offering comfort. While they are fixing her up, her apartment door opens, and her brother shouts out to her, not noticing blue or stretch*

"hey bitch, get inside and do the dishes!"

He froze and felt his body tensed up a bit, when they heard her ex shout out to her. He stood up quickly, looking over to her ex.

"Hey, buddy, let's have a talk, yeah?"

He said, his tone had a sudden shift, something more serious behind his words. His left eye slightly lighting up orange.

"What the? Hey, you the fuck do you think you are? Get away from my girl, she doesn't need your grose skeleton fingers on her."

"Actually, I think she does."

He said, stepping closer to him and getting right in his face.

"Because you're a piece of shit who hits women, the people he's supposed to love. That's all you are, a piece of shit."

He's looking straight in his eyes, his expression stone cold.

"Back off freak! You are a monster, I'm a human, and I have more rights than you!"

"Rights? You talk about rights? Your rights ended when you hit her, you have no rights. Do you really think anyone with any brain would agree with you punching someone who just wanted to leave you?"

staring him directly in the eye. He had no fear of the man, but this man had more than earned the anger of everyone in the world for what he had done tonight.

"ppfff, whatever, move."

He pushes past stretch to go to (Y/N)

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere buddy."

He pushed the man back, putting himself between the man,his friend, and his brother. not really letting him get too close to her.

"If you really are a man like you claim to be, then how about you just leave, huh? If you arent too much of a pussy that is."

"Whp the fuck do you think you are? That bitch is mine and I'll do what ever I want with her, so move."

"She's a woman who has the right to choose who she wants to be with, and she chose not to be with you. You dont own a person just because you decided to date her. She can dump you at any given time she chooses. Now, are you gonna leave her alone, or do I have to make you?"

He said, getting right up next to the man, looking at him dead in the eyes, still standing firm in-between them both. His magic flaring up. The ex is silent and scoffs. He backs away and looks at (Y/N).

"you're a fucking whore! All those time you left you went to go fuck a skeloton? Fucking freak."

"I never fucked him, he just my friend."

"bullshit!"

"Don't talk to her like that!"

"And even if she did, it's none of your business as she is not your property anymore. She can do whatever she damn well pleases. Who she has sex with is her business, not yours."

It was clear a button was pressed in him, as he went on another little rant about the guy.

"So how bout you just leave her alone? She didnt want to be with you anymore. So just move on with your life, yeah? If you're not too much of a pussy to accept that, yeah?"

"Ya!"

The Ex Bf scoffs and throws some more rants and goes back inside. He then comes back out and throws all (Y/N) belongings onto the sidewalk.

"have fun fucking skeloton's whore!"

He was now truly pissed off. Not only did the guy hit the girl in the first place, but now he's kicking her out because he wasn't happy with this relationship anymore. It made his blood boil. He walked over to the pile of stuff, picking up the things that he knew meant the most to her.

"You're welcome to stay with me until you're able to find a place of your own, okay?"

"Ya, you don't need to rush to find a place to stay."

(Y/N) smiles and nods. She helped blue and stretch, getting her stuff into the car, and on the drive back to their place, the drive was quiet. He sat silently as well, occasionally turning to look at her in the backseat, just checking on her to make sure she's okay. He didn't want to ask her if she was okay, as he hated the question himself. He just watched the road and looked over to her from time to time, but kept the silence as they drove back home. Once home, his brother told (Y/N) that she could sleep on the couch, and he would go grab some blankets and pillows. (Y/N) wasted no time to fall onto the couch.

"Hey... You sure you dont want the bed?"

He said, walking inside and seeing her laying on the couch. He had no issue with her sleeping there. It was comfortable, but he didn't want her to have a cramped neck after all was said and done.

"I'm fine with the couch...plus, don't want to steal your bed from ya."

"Eh, it's fine."

He said, sitting down on the couch next to her.

"Plus, its not like ima get much sleep when I can't stop thinking about this whole thing..."

He sighed, rubbing his skull.

"Im just glad you're safe."

He said, looking over at her. (Y/N) smiles.

"Thank you..."

He nods, and leans back. The two sat in silence for a moment before he looked over to her, his gaze still on her for a few moments longer, the expression on his face one of worry.

"I gotta ask... Are you hurt at all? I mean, besides the bruises, just... Are you feeling okay now that you're out of there?"

He asked, sounding and looking genuinely concerned for her well-being.

"he just threw punches at the face, nothing else."

"Are you sure?"

He asked, his voice full of concern.

"Any pain anywhere?"

He looked down to her, his voice sounding more gentle and caring, just wanting to be sure she didn't have any serious injuries.

"ya...."

raising an eyebrow and continuing to look for any signs of any other injuries.

"Just tell me if you're in pain anywhere."

He continued and placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch not exactly harsh and more of a comforting gesture. (Y/N) smiles and leans against him. Resting her head on his shoulder. He smiled back and let out a quiet sigh, wrapping his arm around her. He couldn't help it, but she was just very comforting to have around.

"I'm here."

He said a bit quietly, not wanting to break this very comfortable and calming silence. Not long after, (Y/N) falls asleep. His brother comes and sees her asleep and singles to stretch to help him lay (Y/N) down so he can cover her up. He gets up and helps his brother to lay her down. After that, he puts a blanket over her and covers her up to keep her cozy and warm. When Blue walks out of the room to head to bed. Stretch was about to do the same, but before he left, he made sure to give (Y/N) a light kiss on the forhead. He then whispers

"Everytbing will be ok."

Please reach out if you are in a abusive relationship, there is nothing bad for reaching help. Boy, girl, demon, woman, man, whoever. Please reach out.

[skele-lover]

US! Paps strolling until he comes across Nova's fav flower. 🌷

[sky-is-the-limit]

𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚑𝚘𝚐, 𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚘, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚎, 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚞𝚜, 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕, 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚞𝚜𝚑, 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚙, 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚡 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚐 𝚞𝚙, 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜 𝚞𝚙, 𝚞𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚍, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗, 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑, 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚎.

(gif cred: @itspapillonnoir)

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about how older bf!Simon is sweaty and dirty after gardening and reader just goes crazy over that cause he's wearing grey sweatpants and the print and the pudge of his tummy is visible

let’s live the older bf!simon house husband fantasy fr

this is retired older bf!simon with all this time on his hands, all the time to give you whatever you need- you name it, it’s yours.

so he’s on those hands and knees in the garden, he’s been laying the patch of soil, weeding the shit out of it, getting nice and pretty for your lavender plants.

you’d seen them at the garden centre and simon swears, the look on your face when you saw them? that happy little smile? he’d cover the fucking house in them.

he was starting with the garden, covered in dirt and a heavy layer of sweat over him. upper arms straining against his t-shirt every time he ripped out a chunk of weeds.

back of his hand swiping against his forehead as he sat back on his haunches.

you couldn’t help but stare, quietly leaning in the door with a cup of tea in hand.

“whaddya’ think?” didn’t even have to turn around, he just knew.

he always knew.

walking up beside him, he rest his head gently against your thigh as you scratched your fingernails through his sweaty crop of hair.

“think i’m the luckiest person alive”

simon snorts a laugh through his nose as he reaches up to take your tea off you, finishing the last mouthful. you always save the best parts for him.

when he stands up to full height, you finally get the full picture.

fucking hell.

everything is covered in dirt, sweat stained and ready to sink your teeth into. broad shoulders with a stomach that softened with every meal he was finally home for.

he looked like yours.

you’d evidently been staring so long it was noticeable, the way simon was wrapping a hand around your back to pull you into him.

his lips were doing a good job at distracting you from the fact he was pushing you towards the swing seat. the same one he’d made from scratch (and christened by splitting you open on it).

seemed like you were heading down the same road, until simon began to sink to his knees. getting rid of your knickers, there was a glaring difference between your pretty skin and the dirt marring his knuckles.

“simon- s’dirty”

you think he nodded, but he could’ve just been nuzzling his face closer between your thighs. not a speck of dirt left behind when he crossed his wrists behind his back.

“look sweet’art, no ‘ands”

[captain-hawks]

“what?”

your husband offers you a small, curious smile as you quietly eye him over the rim of your mug from where you’re perched on the sofa.

kita shinsuke’s volleyball days are long over, the slide of sneakers across hardwood floors under fluorescent lights a distant memory now when his fingers sink into the cool earth at sunrise to the tune of frog calls and birdsong.

and yet you still find him here each morning on routine in the middle of the living room floor—black briefs straining against his thick, muscled thighs as he stretches. his hair’s always still a little mussed from bed. and more often than not, you’re usually afforded a peak at a taut, tanned sliver of skin from his chest or back when his white t-shirt rides up as he bends and moves.

steam from your tea coils lazily in the air between your watchful eyes and his amused gaze.

“just enjoying the view.”

[rememberwren]

Warmer weather rolling in and I’m thinking about a Simon Riley who is obsessed with your stretch marks when you start wearing more revealing clothes.

He’d run his fingers over them, appreciating the texture. He’d ask “Did they hurt?” because man can’t fathom a scar that didn’t cause pain to receive.

His eyes are drawn to them on your thighs and hips and the tops of your knees and your belly when your shirt rides up, taking note of the way they look like lightning has kissed your skin. How they change color depending on the lighting.

He’s obsessed with you. Obsessed with those parts you try to hide most of all—those are the tastiest parts to sink his teeth into.

[sillyunknownkitkat]

Undertale

Sans :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Papyrus :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Frisk :

Nothing yet

Chara :

Nothing yet

Asriel :

Nothing yet

Toriel :

Nothing yet

Asgore :

Nothing yet

Astel/Astelle :

Nothing yet

Mettaton :

Nothing yet

Undyne :

Nothing yet

Alphys :

Nothing yet

Muffet :

Nothing yet

Grillby :

Nothing yet

Underswap

Blue (sans) :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Stretch (papyrus):

Hypersexual reader comfort

Swap (Gaster) :

Nothing yet

Others :

Nothing yet

Underfell

Red (sans) :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Edge (papyrus) :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Fell (gaster) :

Nothing yet

Others :

Nothing yet

Swapfell

Viper (sans) :

Nothing yet

Puppy/pup (papyrus) :

Nothing yet

Sf/??? (Gaster) :

Nothing yet

Others :

Nothing yet

Other Au's

Ink :

Ink x clingy/touchy reader (kinda Ink slender I'm sorry)

Error :

Nothing yet

Dream :

Nothing yet

Nightmare :

Nothing yet

Axe/Bear (ht sans) :

Nothing yet

Killer :

Nothing yet

Dust :

Nothing yet

Fresh :

Nothing yet

Cross :

Nothing yet

Geno :

Nothing yet

Reaper :

Nothing yet

Birdie (aviantale sans) :

Nothing yet

G (echotale gaster!sans) :

Nothing yet

Epic :

Nothing yet

Others :

Nothing yet

All credits to the characters belong to their original creator. I do not proclaim them as mine. Undertale belongs to TobyFox

Last updated : the 2nd December 2023

[skeleton-mischief]

You know how in soulmate AUs sometimes there will be a symbol or first words as a soulmark? could we get soulmark symbols or their first words said to their soulmate maybe? As a treat? It will (probably) soothe you from the twitter trauma

I've always loved the idea of soul marks, especially since I find it cute! I have a general idea of how soulmates would work if we're talking about the main 14 skeletons! Personally, I'm not creative enough to think about what the first words would be for the group of skeletons, BUT I can write what some would be like with the realization of meeting their s/o

I imagine that the soul mark would be something placed on the inner wrist or side of the neck for the skeletons! It can be placed anywhere depending on the monster, but these guys have similar anatomy to us so it'd make sense.

Something that looks as faint as a small, ingrained soul is the proper marking that all monsters possess. It barely looks something akin to a tattoo, barely visible and dull to the average onlooker. Monsters naturally can see it, but Humans don't even realize that they have this so called mark.

However, what would make it unique is that these markings have the ability to start glowing when in close proximity to their destined soulmate, glowing brighter and hotter. What tends to happen is that when both parties are aware of this said marking, they will often feel the tugging sensations that go with their souls being in closer proximity. For Monsters, it's easier as they continue to spend time together and get to see their souls glowing brighter.

I find it funny to think the skeletons would pick it up so much easier, especially since they're in tune with their souls as much as they are. I imagine that when meeting YN, each would have unique emotions towards this realization or at least responses!

Vanilla: He's the best at hiding how he would feel once he encounters YN. He could run into them at Grillbys, at the store, in a park, anywhere really. He'll treat them like any other friend or companion, trying to get you to laugh as he's keeping his hands in his pockets or subtly rubbing the hand he shook your hand with as he feels that tingling, hot sensation on his wrist. He's trying so hard not to stare at his wrist, to see if he's actually watching what he believes is occurring right before his eyes. When he's done meeting you and having to go back home, he just doesn't say anything as he keeps what happens to himself. It's not until he realizes that you're the soulmate of someone else as well that he even says anything to begin with

Cyperus: He didn't mean to bump into you but he can't help the way he rubs his neck when he awkwardly tries to not panic right in front of you. He would stutter and feel less confident in what he says, feeling this desperate need to just wrap you in his arms and shout that you're the one. Of course, he just comes off as a dork, which he wished he didn't since in his opinion he needed to look cool. He practically runs home and debates telling anyone, but he can't hold his secret when Vanilla asks him what's up before he's shaking his brother and screaming. He feels like he may never speak to you again after he practically forgot to ask you your name, or if you're from around the area. But of course, as luck would have it, you live nearby, and he promptly and bravely-! Hides. He's just planning what to do next time he sees you and speaks to you is all!! It's not running away! It's planned out action!!

Powder: He has the skill of Vanilla but the internal panic of Cyperus. The poor fool wouldn't even have to look at his wrist to know that you're the one, the sensation of hot, tingling excitement in his soul and on his wrist tells him everything. He does everything he can to make you laugh when meeting you, trying to come off as confident despite the way his face is as blue as his scarf. He would at least try to keep it to himself and he can believe that who he saw was his soulmate. However, it'd slip one day and he's already trying to lie his way out of what he said. He hopes to meet you again, unlike Cyperus since he actively goes out of his way to find you again instead. He's a bit better at acting like he's in control of his feelings, despite the way he may stutter or hesitate to touch you after he meets you again

Stretch: Oh buddy. As a skeleton already stuttering, he can barely form sentences at first. He switches his words, stumbles a bit, and even stares longer than he means to when he meets you. His soul is practically singing, his hand his rubbing his neck with each laugh he gives. It's obvious to you that he's awkward, but you find it endearing and just chalk up the blush as him feeling embarrassed rather than attracted to you. When he's home he doesn't even stop to greet anyone, trying to sneak off to his room before he's caught and already stuttering out what happened in a panic. Unlike his brother, he would be mulling over why he had to look so dorky in front of you! Surely you wouldn't want to see him again after that! But he's screwed the next time he sees you, already knowing that he's going to be interacting with you for longer than he expected

Red: Oh. oh. It's you. He just happened to be in the area when he felt it. The way his wrist feels hot and how the mark is glowing before he shoved his hands in his pockets. He can't look you in the eye, his tough guy persona already failing when he asks you if you're alright since you seemed to accidentally have dropped something. He's mumbling a bit, his jokes making him feel more dumb when he fucks it up before he gets to the punchline. That alone gets you to laugh though, your nervousness around him already peeling away with each layer of his scary appearance giving way. He doesn't linger like the others, just willing to let your conversation with him end. He's better at asking you if you're new to the town with how easily he can tell, something he takes note of before giving you some advice and leaving. He's internally freaking out, slightly frustrated because this is something he doesn't know how to deal with. He's not telling anyone, not even to brag that he found someone as pretty and kind as you. The only way someone would find out is when he's venting to Grillby and is given advice to talk to you again when he gets the chance. Just maybe he won't fuck it up?

Pitch: Ah, of course the handsome and talented skeleton would meet you conveniently when he can help you out. Hes so distracted with trying to come off as confident, talented, and impressive to you that he doesn't realize he kind of looks pretentious or at least arrogant. He's been trying to be better at that, so when he sees the way you react to his grandiose speech he knows immediately to apologize the best he can. He clears his throat and mutters that he didn't mean to seem so self absorbed, and that he just wanted you to know since he wanted to prove to you that he had the situation under control after helping you get away from another monster that was bothering you. As he does so, he finds a strange itching on his neck, only to feel the heat beneath his gloves as his expression gives one of a sudden stunned horror. Was this why he felt so scrutinized under your stare? Why he takes your expression as a failure on his part? He excuses himself and just tries to get away from the situation after his apology before instructing you to get home safely before he's already fleeing, not allowing you to even say goodbye. He's tugging his scarf and grumbling by the time he's home, stomping his foot, and so easily overwhelmed the moment Red asks him what's wrong. He's almost exactly like Cypress as he grabs his brother and shakes him, falling to his knees as he dramatically places his gloved hands over his face and mulling over his failure until he plans next to meet you again. Though...he does avoid you the best he can since he thinks he just failed before he could even put in the effort to make it up to you.

I did ponder to keep typing down my headcanons for other skeletons but I decided to stop before this post became too long. I may make some more character headcanons but thats for another time. I got asks to answer >:)

Thank you for reading :-))

[undertale-writing-times]

Hi can I request Underswap papyrus with a S/O who can twitch their nose like a bunny? (Yes it’s me Alex or alexismynon-binaryname)

cute lol.

He loves seeing you do that. He thinks that it's one of the cutest things. Sometimes he'll call you bunny as a nickname, and likes to 'kiss' your nose to see it twitch.

He has no idea why your nose twitches like that, and honestly, he doesn't really wanna know. He just knows that he likes it and likes seeing you do it and he finds it weirdly wholesome and calming? No idea why.

But yeah, he likes to see you do it and I think he would tease you about it! Though he doesn't want you to stop, of course.

[blindmagdalena]

Guilty Pleasures ( chapter two )

18+ 3.8k homelander x plus size f!reader. workplace harassment, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, lite humiliation kink, lite somnophilia, breaking & entering, petty theft, sublander flavored. nebulously takes place post s1. part 2/4. AO3 link. | Chapter Directory

Homelander is the most powerful man in the world, and all he wants is to be yours.

After spending the majority of your evening and the following morning anticipating being fired, walking into work the next day feels like traversing a thinly frozen lake, each step webbing out in precarious cracks.

Clearly you’re not the only one who thinks so: you clock a handful of surprised looks from coworkers who’d attended the meeting and took note of the tension between you and Vought’s golden boy.

Maybe they’d taken bets on whether or not you’d be coming in this morning.

There’s no sign of Homelander on your way in. Not that you were expecting him–yesterday was the first time you actually saw him in person–but you still find yourself on the lookout. It’s hard to say whether you’re anticipating or dreading him. Part of you is still expecting to open your door and find a letter on your desk politely informing you that they’ve determined you aren’t a good “culture fit” for the company, and that your probation has been terminated.

After all, who in their right mind would take your side over Homelander’s?

You push open your office door, and sure enough, there is a letter waiting for you, but not in the way you expected. You stand in the doorway, staring in quiet incomprehension. The envelope, crisp and bright white, is propped up in a bed of rich red roses sitting in a pretty vase upon your desk. You glance behind you before you step inside, closing the door behind you, and approach the desk cautiously. You pluck the paper out of the bouquet, taking a moment to smell the flowers–they smell as good as they look–before you carefully rip open the envelope, tearing the small american flag sticker that sealed it.

Inside, there’s only one word on the folded piece of paper, scrawled in surprisingly elegant handwriting.

Truce?

You can’t help the incredulous little bark of laughter you give at that. It’s not even an apology. It’s a demand that he expects a gratuitous bundle of flowers will help you swallow, like taking medicine with a spoonful of sugar.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say quietly to the letter, setting it down on your desk. You give the roses one last sniff, testing one of the soft petals between your fingers. You wonder if what you said actually got through to him.

Homelander has no real reason to smooth things over with you: you’re no one. He’s posed no risk to himself by coming after you. He could no doubt have you fired by complaining that your marketing tactics don’t align with his brand. It’s hard to imagine Vought denies him much.

Yet he is apparently negotiating peace. It’s not nearly enough, but it is a start.

Or maybe it’s just more than you expected.

You sit, idly tapping the letter against your desk. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still think him handsome. Homelander wasn’t the first man to ogle your tits while you gave a presentation, but he was certainly the first to fluster you like that when he did. His sly smile had made you want to slap him, but there was a questionable little part of you that thought about kissing it better afterwards.

Taking in a steadying breath, you slip the letter into your desk drawer and adjust the flowers to the side, admiring them a moment before you pull out your laptop.

If Homelander can behave himself enough to let you do your job without public humiliation, you can afford a truce. You don’t need to forgive or condone him to be civil, or even to continue having your own private fantasies. A little guilty pleasure now and again never hurt anyone.

You can’t know that Homelander is observing you throughout this internal conversation, watching through several layers of steel and concrete, his parted lips curving into a slow smile as you accept his offering. You can’t know that you haven’t just acknowledged a truce, but an invitation.

No, you can’t possibly know what’s to come.

Two days later, you diligently change the water that the roses in your office sit in. They’re doing well, the crimson buds having unfurled into a splay of velvety petals. You pinch one between your thumb and forefinger and stroke it absently. Homelander has continued to be a scarcity, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t seen him. Quite the opposite: you spend most of your working hours either looking at or thinking about his face to the point where it’s starting to follow you home each day.

That’s what you tell yourself when you think of him outside of work hours, anyways.

It’s been long enough now that you wonder if the flowers were the end of it. He was simply covering his ass with a half hearted gesture that slightly resembled an apology so that you could both comfortably drop the subject. That was entirely fine by you so long as he actually did improve his behavior.

A familiarly brisk knock at your door catapults your heart up against the cage of your ribs like a spooked hare. It’s the exact same beat, you’re sure of it. You stay quiet, half expecting to be barged in upon, but when nothing happens, you move from your desk and open the door yourself, intentionally blocking it with your body.

Sure enough, Homelander stands tall on the other side. He flashes his signature smile while your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“I think I’m the one who can help you,” he says brightly, that spread of teeth downright wolfish. He lifts a handful of papers that have been stapled at the corner, gesturing for you to take it.

Still wary, you take them from him and shift, wedging your foot to keep the door firmly in place while you flip through the pages. Your brows furrow as you recognize chunks of your own presentation. Understanding dawns when you realize that he’s annotated them.

“You read my presentation,” you say, unable to mask your surprise.

“Obviously. It’s my image on the line, right? Got some notes for you, but I have to say: y’mostly nailed it,” he says, reaching out to rest a gloved hand on the doorway.

“Mostly?” You echo, quirking an eyebrow at him as you look up from the pages.

“Yeah, mostly. Again, I have some minor notes,” he says, wiggling his other hand in a vague gesture. “But I figure I owe you praise on a job mostly well done.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Crossing your arms, you abandon your stern foothold on the door in order to shift your weight, your incredulity showing in every inch of your body language.  “What you owe me is an apology.”

Homelander’s grin softens into a smile that’s no less challenging. “Looks to me like you’ve already been enjoying my apology,” he says, leaning slightly to gaze past you, to the bundle of roses sitting prettily on your desk.

You briefly glance over your shoulder, but your expression remains impassive. Unimpressed. “That? That isn’t an apology. An apology would include the words I’m sorry.”

He scoffs a dismissive laugh, swaying back to look away, but you persist.

“I’m serious,” you say, luring his ocean blue gaze back to yours. “I want you to say to me ‘I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation. It won’t happen again.’ “

The two of you hold each other’s gaze with all the magnitude of two gunmen in a duel, hands steady over your proverbial pistols. 

To your surprise, Homelander does not fire back. He raises a dainty white flag.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation,” he says, words slow and measured. You watch his tongue flash over his bottom lip, wetting it attractively. You fight to not let your eyes linger on it. “It won’t happen again.”

You swallow, suddenly finding thought and speech an impossible task. You weren’t prepared for such raw, ready obedience from him, nor the intensity in his gaze that follows it. He reminds you of a charmed snake–docile so long as he is transfixed.

“Good,” you say, the word half a sigh. Homelander’s lips part and he breathes in like he’s caught wind of something particularly delicious smelling. “I accept your apology, and I appreciate that you took the time to do this,” you say, gesturing with the documents in your hand. “I’ll go over them and get back to you.”

He reaches out, bracing his hand on your office door. You half expect him to push it open, but he merely holds it there. “We could go over them together,” he suggests slyly.

“No,” you say, clearly disarming him. He looks as though he’s forgotten the meaning of the word. “I’m in the middle of another project at the moment.”

The leather of his gloves creaks faintly in your ear as he flexes his grip on the edge of the door. While what you’ve said is true, it’s also serving as a test. Words and flowers are pretty things, but only actions always speak the truth.

“At the moment,” he repeats, gears visibly turning in his eyes. “So… Later?” He extrapolates, displaying an uncharacteristic tentativeness alongside his obvious displeasure at the taste of rejection. You even see a glimmer of hope in the mess of his expression.. 

He did pass the test. You suppose you can reward him for that.

“Another time,” you say, giving your door an exploratory push. He relents, his hands sliding down the length of it before falling away as he takes a half-step back. “How about tomorrow on my lunch break? 1:00 o'clock sharp.”

He splits into a smile that looks more genuine than any of his you’ve seen before. “Aaalrighty-roo. Sounds gooood to meeeee,” he says, drawing out his vowels more the closer he gets to actually having to leave. At your silent, amused stare, he claps his gloved hands together with a muffled thump! and takes a few more steps backwards. “Yooooou’ll see me… tomorrow.”

Your smile pinches along with your brows. What a strange way to phrase it. “See you then,” you say, watching as his face is eclipsed by your closing door. You wait a beat and then let out a thin thread of breath from your pursed lips, resting your weight on the door.

Looking down at the papers in your hand, you push off from the door and head to your desk, flipping through them.

Such a strange man, you think, carrying the notes to your desk. You set them down next to the vase of roses and try not to think too much about the unconscious smile your lips keep settling into for the rest of the day.

Homelander’s got you hook, line and sinker. He’s certain of it. He lingers on the other side of your door just long enough to watch you through it while you settle, a charmed smile set on your lips. He can already imagine how those lips would feel against his own, how they’d taste. He swallows thickly and looks around before he departs, already plotting his next move.

The two of you have a date tomorrow, and in order to be at the top of his game, he’s going to have to do a little additional research. Knowing your work was a good first step. The next one will be learning about you.

Following you home is the easy part. It ultimately feels chivalrous to do so once he realizes you walk home even at this time of year, when the sun sets long before the work day ends. He drifts above you, cocking his head curiously. No wonder you walk. The streets are packed as tightly as sardine cans, and your apartment garage isn’t much better. The claustrophobia of it all serves as a stark contrast to the openness of Vought tower.

The interior of your apartment provides an even sharper juxtaposition to his penthouse. It’s tidy, but the comparatively low ceilings and minimal floor space still make it look cramped. Somehow, you simultaneously have too much and yet not much at all, the confinement of a downtown apartment making what minimal affects you do own seem crowded together.

That only becomes more apparent once he’s inside, slipped in through your balcony after sleep has taken you. Why would you bother to lock your balcony when you live on the 8th floor? It works out perfectly for him.

In all fairness, your living room feels cozier once he’s standing in the center of it. Your walls are lined with an assortment of art pieces and photographs, and the shelves are well stocked with books and knick-knacks. You have a decent film collection displayed on your media console, and he can’t help but snoop through it, bending at the waist, examining through the rows. He cocks his head.

Odd. You’d think an employee of Vought would have at least a few VCU films. He runs his index finger along the spines, slightly adjusting them flush as he goes. Pursing his lips, he straightens up and looks at the closed cabinets on either side. The left one yields an untidy assortment of electronic odds and ends, cords and the like. Nothing of much interest other than an indication that while you like to keep up appearances, you aren’t quite as together as you’d like people to think. 

It’s on the right side, however, he finds what he’s really looking for.

“Bingo,” he whispers, smiling to himself as he scopes out your little hidden collection of Vought hero flicks. Specifically, his films. He’s less interested in the handful of others you own (Queen Maeve: Her Majesty, Black Noir: Insurrection, Lamplighter: The Bright World, etc) and more so in the fact that you have nearly his entire catalog tucked away. 

Nearly. You’re missing his eighteen part miniseries, Homelander: Brightest Night.

At least that gives him something to gift you.

Closing the cabinet, he meanders about the rest of your apartment. You have some plants in varying states of decay, with only a few cacti looking to be in decent shape. Either your work keeps you too busy to properly mind them, or you just like the idea of them more than the reality. It tells him that you’re looking–and failing–to fill a void in your life. You want to feel less alone in your home, you want to nurture something. You just haven’t found the right something yet.

Striding into your kitchen, arms folded behind his back, he peers through the cheap wood veneer of your fiberboard cupboards, unveiling an unusually broad assortment of mugs. There doesn’t seem to be any particular theme: holidays, locales, characters, and a menagerie of patterns. 

He hums softly, pivoting out of the kitchen and down the hall, his steps preternaturally light. He listens for the beat of your heart as he draws near, tunes it in alongside the shallow cadence of your breath. Deep asleep. Good.

The walls are lined with pictures of you and others. Friends or family, he can’t say, but you look to have an abundance of both. He rarely sees himself in photos that aren’t promotional material. He pauses to straighten a picture frame, and finds himself so viciously jealous of the man sharing the frame with you–his lips pressed to your cheek, your laughing smile so genuine he can nearly hear it–that he almost knocks it to the ground.

Running his tongue along his teeth, he continues on.

Your bedroom door is open. He slips in silently, pausing just through the doorway. Your bed's a queen, too big for just you. You’re sprawled comfortably amidst pillows, limbs splayed in just such a way that he can easily imagine fitting himself in the empty spaces between them. He can smell the lingering burn of the candle you’d lit when you got home. He picks it up off your dresser, reading the label: Cup ‘o Joe. 

Eugh. He never cared for coffee, and the artificial sweetness surrounding the note is cloying. Your perfume, on the other hand, he doesn’t mind. He notices the bottle alongside a few other of your things and puts the candle down in favor of that, popping the cap off. The smell hits him before he sprays it: vanilla first, then amber and something more woodsy. It’s less impressive by itself than it had been on you.

Still, it’s yours. You chose it for yourself.

Slipping off one of his gloves, he lightly sprays into the inside of it before he sets the bottle back down, recapping it. It won’t be the same, but he’s driven by the compulsion to spirit away any little pieces of you that he can. Just enough to satiate himself until he can have you properly.

That’s when he sees your blouse from today in a careless heap at the top of your laundry basket next to your dresser. Licking his lips, he tests the feel of the garment between his bare fingers. He’s always been sensitive to fabrics, and while the blend of this one is fairly cheap, it’s been worn and washed enough that it’s soft against his skin. He grabs a handful of it and lifts it to his mouth, brushing it along his lips, under his nose, and he deeply inhales your lingering scent mixing with the fresh pump of perfume.

He bites back a moan, screwing his eyes shut. His cock gives a dull little throb. Fuck, the spell you’ve cast on him makes him ache just for the smell of you, makes him salivate. He swallows it back, letting out a rough little breath as he reluctantly puts the shirt back down. Under it, he spies a little flash of something black and lacy. His stomach clenches, and he’s reaching for it before he can stop himself, fishing the black panties out of the heap and twisting the fabric between his fingers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can’t afford to overindulge. He won’t be able to control himself if he does, but he also can’t bring himself to put the little slip of fabric back down. He imagines he can almost taste where your sweet cunt had been pressed to it. Christ, he’s practically drooling. Out of sheer impulse, he yanks down the zipper of his pants with a quiet hiss of metal against metal and hastily pushes your underwear into his cup, biting down hard on his lip. He grinds once against his hand, savoring the feel of the fabric against his cock.

He’ll enjoy them far more than you’ll miss them.

Zipping himself back up, he carefully pulls open your top dresser drawer. He curiously pushes the contents around, mindful not to overly disturb, and his knuckles bump something solid. He shifts one of your bras–another near painful pang of arousal at the reminder of your breasts–aside and finds, to his delight, what any good marketing department would describe as  “a large purple massage wand.”

A vibrator. He chews his bottom lip briefly, turning it over in his grip. An exciting find on all fronts. It’s smooth and decently hefty, good quality. You deserve even better. You might be capable of indulging yourself with this, but he could make you scream. You’ll never need a silly little toy again. Not when you have him.

Homelander moves to put it back in the drawer, but–

“Fuck!” He hisses when the button catches on his finger, and suddenly the damn thing is buzzing.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chants mentally, jabbing at the buttons in an attempt to silence it, but pressing the same ones only makes the accursed device louder. In a frantic move, he grips the neck and squeezes. There’s a soft crunch beneath the silicone, and as abruptly as it had begun, the buzzing ends. His heart is thudding heavily in his chest. He listens to the silence, to you.

He looks over his shoulder. No movement. Your breaths remain shallow.

Christ.

So much for leaving no trace. He slips the busted toy back amidst your underthings and snatches his glove off of your dresser, tucking it under his arm. He hones his attention on you as he approaches your bed, assuring himself that you really are still asleep. He stands there for a while, admiring the part of your lips and the haphazard splay of your pajamas and where they cling to your body.

No bra.

His bare hand flexes. Being so close is too much of a temptation. He wets his lips with a quick slide of his tongue and bends down. He ghosts his fingers just over your cheek, not quite daring to touch. He can smell the faint remnants of your toothpaste on your breath, your shampoo, and beneath it all, you. It's intoxicating, it's…

Your brows furrow slightly in your sleep and you make a soft noise, interrupting his thoughts. He wonders if you’re dreaming–dreaming of him, perhaps. He’d like to think so. He’d like to think that you’re just as affected by him wanting you as he is, and that’s the real reason you invited him to lunch. He saw it in your eyes when he echoed your words, the thrill that went through you. He could have gone to his knees for you in that moment and had you in giving himself to you.

Desperate for just a taste, he kisses ever so gently between your brows, his own breaths matching the cadence of yours. Divine. You're divine. So effortlessly perfect and so aware of your own power. How could he not want every part of you?

He means to leave it there, to walk away with nothing but the slight salt of your brow on his lips, but the pull is too great. He's greedy, drunk on the smell and the taste of you, on the feel of your panties pressed up against his cock, and he can't stop himself from sampling your lips against his.

It’s the barest hint of touch, and yet the contact lances electricity through him like he’s been struck by a bolt of lightning. Your lips are soft, soft, soft. He knew they would be. Everything about you is so fucking soft. It takes everything in him to pull away, standing back to his full height.

He's aching, yearning so intensely he could rip the covers away and take you just like this, shake you awake, declare himself and have you. Would you scream, or would you have that same look of affronted understanding of him? You see him in a way few are ever brave–or stupid–enough to dare.

Not yet.

He won’t spoil the game. He agreed to play by your terms. As far as you’re concerned, he’ll do precisely that. You’ll be none the wiser in regards to his little reconnaissance mission–anything could have happened to your vibrator–and the two of you can play your little game as if you stand on equal footing.

Sucking in a silent breath, Homelander leaves alone, but not empty handed.

He’ll make very good use of his little trophy tonight.

( chapter three )

[i-arch-my-backula]

HIIIII, CAN I HAVE A REQUEST? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I do love your writing so i extremely want to share you this idea 🥺 i hope you could understand it because i'm kinda not good at English 😭

What would slashers react if reader have a habbit of writing everything important on their arms and thighs? Well, i have that habbit, especially i do need to write the word "breath" in my arm to remind me to breath (because sometime i will forget to do that and that makes me get headache 😭). Sometimes i just need to take some quick note like "doing laundry" or "kiss my pet before school". I know it's silly but i hope you could write that 😭

Of course I can. I kinda do something like this with head canons sometimes. Where I write out the basic idea of what I want to say on a postit note and then develop it when I'm actually writing. Anyway I totally get this and your English is great don't worry.

Slashers with an s/o who writes reminders on their arms

Includes: Vanita "Stretch" Brock, Herbert West, Patrick Bateman and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: None I can think of

Stretch

You write reminders on yourself? She does that too sometimes! I feel like Stretch isn't the most forgetful person but sometimes she needs a good reminder and writing on herself is how she does it.

She want's to break the habit and will suggest you rely on each other to remind each other what's going on or what needs to be done.

If she ever gets bored enough and she gets your permission she might doodle little things on you. Nothing super big, just small little hearts or starts on your hands and arms.

Herbert West

He's questioning why you're writing on yourself so much. Do you need a planner? Or just a piece of paper to write on?

Once you tell him it's because you don't have the best memory he's going to start trying to give you supplements and what not to help boost your memory, or exercises to get your memory working better.

But he's mostly fine with you writing on your arms and legs as long as you cover it up around certain people and don't use his good pens to do it.

Patrick Bateman

He gets kind of annoyed when you do this. Why do you have to do it in such visible areas? Don't you know he has an image to uphold?

He buys you a planner to use instead. He doesn't want you to write on yourself at all so he thinks a planner you can use and keep on you is the next best option.

He gets more accepting of it over time. Like if you're not going out anywhere for awhile and you wash it off pretty well he won't be that upset with you.

Bo Sinclair

Why are you writing on yourself? You're going to ruin your skin god damn it. At least that's what his parents taught him about drawing on himself as a child.

Will try and remind you of things to get you to break the habit. Will make sure you let him know about anything you need to get done and he will remind you anytime he gets the chance to.

Will just give up and let you write on yourself if it's proving to be too hard for you to stop writing on yourself. He never really minded you doing it but he still wanted to try and get you to stop.