#aw this years an odd number | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tremendouscreationperson · 3 months ago

Text

Part 2 of this

Next part here

Stan hadn't been able to help it. He had asked for your address to keep in touch.

He was able to now.

Able to send and receive letters. There had been a few instances when he was on the road that he dialed your number and your ma or pa answered, he had pretended to be a wrong number for them.

He was too chicken to talk to Ford why did he think he could talk to you?

But letters were different.

He could do letters.

You'd explained how you moved to California for college and loved the area so much you decided to stay. He had known you wanted to go to college but the three of you had always said you'd stay near New Jersey.

He wished so much that he kept in touch but his life was shit. He made things shit. He was shit.

His dad had been right.

He wasn't even worth turning up to a funeral for.

Stan paused mid sentence. Maybe he shouldn't be exchanging letters with you, maybe he should just stay away.

But a letter couldn't hurt.

He wouldn't have to change his voice or wear gloves or pretend he had smarts.

He could relax.

If something seemed off in the letter he could restart it.

And so the correspondence continued.

It took a year and a half before you suggested coming down to see Mr Mystery himself.

Ford explained that his Uni grant had stopped so he was relying on good ol' fashioned tours of his labs to make money, only the real science didn't interest the resistance so he had to be creative.

You were sure he bored his patrons to death by explaining the rays and dials and tubing he had before coming up with the idea to sell to his clientele.

If only Stan was here. He'd be able to come up with good monsters and ghouls, just like in school.

You were able to find some sketches he gifted you (from a comic he was determined to publish) to send in your letter. Hopefully Ford could use them for ideas. It was a little bittersweet to part with them but ultimately it was for the greater good and you could always ask for them back.

So, now, here you were merely proposing a meet up but it felt... Well it felt wrong? Yeah, Ford and yourself were mates but Stanley was always the glue that kept you together.

Despite the mixed emotions you pushed on and signed your name before shoving it into an envelope and sending it off.

The journey to 'Gravity Falls' - brilliant name - was not awful.

It took a solid 6 hours of driving but you knew it would be worth it. Knew it had to be done.

You would keep your friendship with Ford alive for Stan. You'd be the honorary sibling.

Once you were in Oregon you pulled up the map he had sent and followed the instructions he scratched onto it. 'Don't turn by the Horse Scarecrow go further to the Pig', 'There's a big boulder by the town sign be careful, I swear it moves', 'left by the tree that looks like Dolly'.

They were odd instructions but they were perfect. The town was definitely unique.

It was 9 when you finally made it to the 'Mystery Shack' and you had to admit it was cute. There were homemade arrows pointing in all directions and a copious amount of question marks dotted about.

The sign on the door read "closed" but you could see at the back there were lights on.

Climbing out of your car you twaddled over to the back door, rucksack slung on your shoulder, the soft sounds of a TV wafted through the door as you knocked.

The TV stopped and you could hear wood creaking as Ford approached. The door opened and revealed him wearing a suit with a large question mark tie.

He smiled down at you, gesturing for you to enter. "Hi."

"Hey." Your eyes scanned the room, mostly homemade wooden furniture with the odd trinkets or pop of colour. There were a few sciency looking gadgets but otherwise this was a humble home. "It's really cute in here."

Ford scratched the back of his neck. "Thanks."

The silence was slightly weird but you anticipated that it may be a bit weird at first. Just have to push through it.

"Have you eaten?" He asked.

"No but to be honest I'm zonked." You chuckled. "Long journey."

Ford clasped his hands. "Of course, well, you can have my room. I'll take the couch."

"Uhm, I can't kick you out of your room." You didn't realise that he would have to vacate his bed for you to visit. "I'll stay on the couch."

"You take the bed, I won't hear anything else about it." He added the last part as your mouth opened to argue.

Staying with Ford was odd.

He was more casual than you remembered.

Gave fewer lectures.

But otherwise your stay was pleasant.

You helped him in the Shack; printing t-shirts, manning the register, flicking the lights on and off, making spooky noises when needed. It was fun.

You enjoyed your time here because it was silly. You were able to let loose whilst watching some suckers gape at a wax figure or a crudely put together unicorn.

After leaving it really didn't take long to decide on coming back.

Spending every other weekend up in Oregon became your routine. Yeah, the drive was shitty but it was worth it.

Ford loved it. Or well.. if he didn't he didn't say anything.

Eventually you were gifted a cot upstairs and you considered staying for longer.. perhaps even for an indefinite amount of time. It was quite conflicting wanting to stay with Ford.

You still loved Stan. You'd always love him but you saw so much of Stan in Ford it was ludicrous.

The way he'd swindle and trick, his Mr Mystery persona, and whenever a patron was a little handsy, the way he'd threaten them.

Ford never did that. He outwitted people. He was the brains.

But maybe that changed in the time you spent apart. His father had made the two of them box and from Ford's ears he'd kept up the sport.

Through all your time at the shack there was only one thing that truly bothered you. It was a teeny tiny detail but it drove you insane.

Ford never removed his gloves.

He was always wearing them.

Everyday, every night, every meal, everywhere.

You'd seen his hands before.

Everyone back home had.

They were just hands!

Maybe he didn't want the town to think they were real, wanted them to think he was a fraud because being a freak was worse?

It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things but it was agitating you.

"Put teeth on it." You suggest, sitting on the floor with your back leaning against the wall.

Ford made a face but nodded, prying the crows beak apart. He wandered around the shop, opening cupboards and drawers. "I'm sure I had som-"

"The blue cabinet." You pointed.

Ford opened it and voilà he produced a jar of teeth. You didn't bother to ask if they were real, either of the answers would be weird. Yes = weird. No, where did he get such realistic teeth? = Weird.

You observed Ford positioning the teeth, he waited for your approval which you gave and began gluing them.

It was late in the evening and he had promised the town and its tourists something big. So crow with teeth and a skunks tail it was.

He was precise with the glue gun but still stopped to talk with you, ever the gentleman. How had their father made them?

You hated their dad with a passion.

He was an absolute asshole.

You'd tell him that, too.

He didn't even come to the funeral. You'd assumed he had passed but Ford told you he didn't want to come. His parents were starting afresh with Shermie.

No, you wouldn't include Caryn on that. She was lovely but Filbrick...

Filbrick was something else entirely. In fact, you remember first meeting him, he glanced up at you over his newspaper before returning to the words. Stan had reassured you that that type of behaviour meant he liked you but you knew differently. You knew, even at age 10, Stan was covering for his father.

Ford hadn't experienced that. He never knew what it was to disappoint his father and you felt for Stanley. You were even present once when Ford tried to explain that Stan seemed to take short cuts and maybe that was why Filbrick was disappointed. It was later in the week when Stan confessed that he had to take short cuts, of course he did, because how else could he possibly keep up?

"Ah shit!"

Your eyes shot back to Ford who was shaking his left hand. Quickly standing to assist. "What happened?"

"Just a burn, it'll be fine." Ford brushed you off, resuming the task at hand.

You scoffed. "Ford, take the glove off, you idiot."

"It's fine." He insisted.

"You're sticking to things!"

Ford grumbled but didn't reply.

"I've seen your hands before. There's no one else around. Why are you being weird?"

"I'm not weird." He huffed turning away from you. "Don't look."

You rolled your eyes before turning away. "Fucking hell, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were Stan pretending to be Fo-"

It hit you.

All the stupid chats, all the late night beers, all the jokes, the lame costumes, the zero science talk, the scams, the lies, everything.

Your body had turned without your brain catching up and you were face to face with a Stan. Not 100% sure which one.

Stan's eyes were wide, gloved hand clutching his ungloved one. You took three steps to him, invading his personal space, to place your own hand on top of his. Slowly you tugged on it and revealed the five digits.

Wh-what did this mean?

This was Stan?

Stanley?!

Where was Ford?

Why?

Why did Stan need- what was he doi- where wa-

His palm gripped yours. "I can explain."

Part 3

@breadandbiscuits @aratheegreat @sp00kyfr0gs @doggosnoodles12 @50shadesofwinchesters @living-in-a-veil

#stanley pines x you #stanley pines x reader #stanford pines #stanley pines #grunkle stan #gravity falls

369 notes · View notes

febster · 5 months ago

Text

Im back for another fic! Its been like a year ive written a fic and this time its on hsr mainly focusing on our dragon boy dan heng:P This is just a one-sided fic in a way, more focused on Dan Heng's side in a way??? This may be a bit ooc too for some;; but i hope ya'll still like it

requests are open^^~!

Instinct

-a look at dan heng's actions when it comes to his new dragonic traits and perhaps a little crush to their new member in the express

(gender neutral y/n!)

(y/n is an entirely different character from the MC of hsr!)

"…" Blankly staring at the top of his room, unable to sleep, he felt restless after what had happened during the past few weeks. Time passed by a bit fast for him to handle after accepting his past, especially being a Vidyadhara which was almost life-changing for him—many things needed adjustment and the feelings that come in life for being a Vidyadhara were just something he didn't expect to have. He could faintly recall the number of times he had acted out of character when he was with his family, he let out a groan in response when he had accidentally popped out his fangs when he had yawned out loud near the Astral Family.

He sits up abruptly, touching his mouth as if to feel his fangs, faintly recalling the expression of a certain crew member.

__ “Woah…” Y/N's expression was in awe, as if they had seen a making of art right in front of them.

__ He could feel the blood rushing to his face, his skin prickling with the sudden heat of embarrassment. It was just one word but why did it make him feel so differently than he normally would? His embarrassment from memories didn't help ease this restless feeling he had. He glanced at his bed, bothered by how that once familiar comfort of his bed was now unsettling. Giving him a feeling to do something but he does not know what.

Frustrated, he lets out a low growl, escaping his lips, and staring at the floor. He couldn't just shake the feeling that something was off and wrong, he couldn't even understand this sudden discomfort that he was feeling, it was this urge gnawing at him as if to tell him that he should do something. Abruptly, he pushed his blanket off him, with a resigned sigh, he slides off the mattress, the room slowly filled with the cloth rustling and the sound of water beneath him.

He is rashly moving based on instinct, he does not even know what he is really doing but he follows. He rearranges his pillows and blanket, he even got some more from the Express storage closet, now all thrown haphazardly on the mattress.

It didn't take long for him to stop and just see the mess, "What am I even doing" Dan Heng sighed in defeat, running a hand through his hair. But there was no answer, only this pesky feeling of an urge that he needed to do this.

With a huff, he began to rearrange his bed, he spread the blankets and pillows out, creating a nest-like structure. Following his instincts, he played around with the pillows. pushed them around the edges like a fort. It felt strange to say the least, especially on why on earth he is even doing this.

But he was satisfied, he even brought little trinkets from their adventures and placed them close to his makeshift nest, placed in a safe position. Stepping back, he looked at the nest he had made, it was just odd why he had done this but at such sight, he found himself preening at his work.

Dan Heng hesitated for a moment, with a deep breath, he climbed into the center of the nest, he was careful as if not wanting to disrupt the space. Settling into the warmth, he finds himself curling up finding it comforting despite being prepared suddenly. A contented purr escaped his lips, now closing his eyes, allowing himself to rest.

But...

He felt something different again, this new feeling as if there was still lacking within his nest. Despite it gave him a sense of security and comfort, it still felt lacking. Raising his head, he glanced at the empty spot beside him.

Huh, he had believed that he made it enough just for him to rest on so why is there an extra space? Dan Heng pondered wanting to know the reason for it, but as he let his thoughts wander, it shifted to the thought of Y/N.

Taken aback by his thoughts, he snaps back to reality. Why did he start to think about Y/N? But oddly, he didn't reject the thought of Y/N being there beside him, it was comforting for its thought. He was flustered at such things, that he reprimanded himself. For a person like Y/N, there must be somewhere out there within those planets who already have their heart.

Ignoring the pain in his heart, he forced himself to curl up back to his nest, a frown on his face as he tried to focus on something else.

#hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng hsr #dan heng #imbibitor lunae #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #dan heng x you

379 notes · View notes

elfven-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Proven Right

Summary: Leon has been fascinated with his neighbour for 5 years now, and he finally comes back from Spain with a plan. RE4!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader CW: MDNI, 18+ only, Stalking, camera watching, compromising picture, mutual masturbation , p in v, creampie (if I have missed any please let me know)

Word count: 3K

It had started when he had moved out of the training dorms and finally into his own apartment. There had been a subtle scent of peaches float past his open door as he moved the meagre number of possessions he had into the small apartment. It had been 5 years since then, and yeah, he could have moved since then. Lord knows he could afford it, but that would also mean moving away from you.

The scent of peaches quickly became his favourite, after he’d managed to befriend you over the years and had access to your home he’d found some of the products you used. The peach scrub, peach body mist and some of the lip gloss you wore too…he had duplicates of all of them. He’d even brought the same shampoo and conditioner as you once but then you made a comment about how you preferred his previous smell, and he quickly went back to that.

It wasn’t just your scent that he had adopted, he learnt to cook some of your favourite food (loving the look on your face when he had ‘extra’ and the way you’d bake him brownies in response), he’d watched your favourite film over and over until he had it memorised and could make offhand comments when you watched it together, and he’d even read up on that game with zombies that you seemed so obsessed with. Had even helped you beat some of the harder fights…and God Leon has sworn to get better video games, the way you watched with awe as he fired the virtual gun and how you flung your arms around him and pulled him so tight that he could feel your breasts press up against him.

Maybe he had that banked in his memory store to use in the shower.

“Lee! Oh my god, are you okay?” He was pulled from his trailing mind at the sound of that sweet voice as he turned from his door to look at you. Dishevelled, door open most of the way, slippers on his feet and it looked like you had rushed to the door at the sound of his key in his own doors lock. But wait…was that his shirt? He thought he had lost it months ago; he must have left it at yours during one of your many movie nights. You could keep it, looked so much better on you. “I was so worried”.

About him? You’re so sweet. He smiles at you, nodding his head and moving away from his door to wrap his arms around you. This wasn’t an odd amount of affection for the both of you. Leon felt himself relax as your arms wrapped around him too, squeezing him tight. “Sorry darling, they really needed me at the other branch”.

He felt you pat his back, and he pulled away so you wouldn’t get uncomfortable with too long of a hug. You smile up at him as you both pull back, and he notices the bags under your eyes before you shrug at him “It’s okay, missed our weekly sleepover but you can make it up to me this weekend?” Leon had never nodded so fast.

He watched as you walked back into your apartment before opening his own and moving in through the door.

When Leon received your message that you had finished work, and he could come over he felt his heart race. He stared at himself in the mirror as he finished getting ready, making sure to use that cologne he’d noticed you seemed to enjoy. Always leaning closer when he wore it.

He had plan. Today, tonight. It would work.

Leon watched his phone on the counter as he made sure his cuts were covered and nothing would be too painful, the screen lit up with the inside of your apartment. And there you were, flitting around to make sure there were enough blankets and snacks, and you had even gone out and brought his favourite drink.

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Something that would be immensely helpful tonight, these cameras that he’d helped you install for security reasons. It felt like pure luck when you asked him for that help, learning what make and company the camera was meant it was much easier to hack into. And getting one of the IT specialists to do it was even easier with his clearance. ‘Just want to see if I should get a different one if this is too easy get into’.

He moved out of the bathroom, phone still in hand as he grabbed the snacks he’d gone and brought for the both of you. Once he’d made sure his door was locked, triple checking just in case, it was mere seconds before he was letting himself into your apartment. Something you both often did when expecting each other, no need to knock. “Hey! Brought snacks” his rough timbre sounded out and you replied with a short ‘Living room!’.

He took his boots off at the door, making his way to where you were, smiling at you as he put the snacks down before sitting close to you on the sofa. His arm resting on the back, and his legs spreading. Leon had worn those jeans you’d complimented, the ones that hugged his legs in a way that showed the muscle he’d spent years building. You could never keep your eyes off his thighs in these jeans, and then you’d spend the rest of the night with your hand between your own.

You didn’t question the position he put himself in, it feels almost natural to be this close to him, to have his warmth permeate into your side as you leant your head back against his arm. You pulled the thick blanket over both of you, Leons brows furrowing as it covered the sight of his legs, so he pushed it off him and pulled it to cover more of you. When you turned your head to look at him he shrugged and mumbled an excuse of not being cold right now. You accepted the reason with a nod before asking what movie he wanted to watch.

The blonde pretended to think for a moment before taking the remote and putting a movie on, “This one’s meant to be good…haven’t seen it yet” He knew you hadn’t either, and there was no indication of the special part in this movie, one he knew would get you biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together.

And it’s bit further into the movie where he’s proven right, you’ve been stealing glances at him all night. Your eyes lingering on his legs and the arm around the back of the sofa, which has, for unknown reasons, managed to slip down to round your waist. His fingers drawing circles across the soft skin of your waist. Distractingly. But you manage to keep your eyes on the screen, not wanting to ruin whatever friendship you’d built with the man and worried that he would never feel the same.

You had understood why he picked this movie, a great distraction from the ‘government job’ he’d told you he had. Never telling you specifics but it had him away for days at a time so it must be tiresome. But you hadn’t expected a full 10 minutes of sex to play part way during it, and by the way he sighed, and a pink dusted his cheeks neither had Leon. It was a good movie; you could power through a few minutes…okay 5 that’s a good length…10? Why’s it still going.

Eyes glued to the screen as your breath shallowed, and thighs pressed together you tried to pretend it wasn’t affecting you. That you weren’t imagining your hot blonde neighbour being the one to bend you over that desk like the protagonist currently was to the partner he had. That you weren’t thinking of him drawing those slow circles somewhere else.

Leons hasn’t been paying attention to the movie since the scene began, to focused on the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, or how your hand twitches against the blanket. His hand moves a little lower, pulling you closer to him and you don’t even realise. Just sink into his side. Your eyes almost have no colour, his hand plays with the band of your shorts. He moves himself slowly, legs pressed against yours and your head turns lightly.

A small gasp you hope he didn’t hear as you snap your head back to the screen. Pretending you didn’t see the bulge in his jeans, that it didn’t cause your pussy to flicker and fill with slick. This time it’s your turn to move, and hope Leon doesn’t notice. Your hand settles on his thigh, close but not where he wants it. Of course, he’s noticed, in fact he slides down in the seat. Your hand resting over his cock from where it strains in the fabric, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

His hips rolled up into your hand with a low groan, and you palmed at him wanting to hear more. Were you really doing this? Letting your neighbour use your hand to get off? Yes, God yes. It was then that you noticed his own hand had slipped below your shorts and suddenly you felt embarrassed.

“No underwear, sweet girl?” The tips of your ears turned red as one of his fingers slipped between your wet lips, gathering slick before swirling at your clit. “How brave, maybe you were hoping this would happen?” Just like him, except he didn’t hope, he knew. Just like he planned.

He drew a moan out of you as your thighs spread to give him more access, your own hand shakily moving to undo his jeans so you could pull him out. His head fell back at the contact of your cool hand on his hot skin, it felt so much better than he ever could imagine. His hand dipped further down to tease at your hole as it clenched around nothing, smiling at the sweet noises you gave him. They sounded so much better in person then on the shitty mic quality of the camera. Gifting you his owns whines as your hand squeezed the base of his cock before moving up at a slow teasing pace.

Neither of you paying attention to the movie playing, your head falling back onto his shoulder, and he took this opportunity to lean forward and lick his tongue into your mouth. Your eyes closed and you happily let him, mouth opening to reciprocate the messy kisses he was giving you. Leon kissed you like a man starved, until there was spit dribbling down your chin and you were squirming against his hand. Grinding your hips down as your thighs clenched around his wrist, you whined into his mouth and pushed up against him, needing more.

Leon pulled away and you pouted, chasing his mouth before his hand stopped you. His thumb swiping the saliva on your bottom lip before pushing past into your mouth. You suck his thumb, tongue swirling around it in the same way he circles your clit. Your hips buck into his hand, eyes pleading at him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, moving to press his ringers against the sweet spot in your cunt. “C’mon sweet girl, wont you come for me?”

And that’s all it takes for your back to arch, your legs to clench around his wrist as the building pleasure snaps and you gush against his hand. You feel it drip down your thighs and a wet spot grows on the sofa below you. Leon pulls his hand out, moving to lay you down “Is it okay if I?” You nod at him desperately, hands pulling at his shirt. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl, honey” He removes his jeans and under wear completely before pulling down your shorts.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of his cock slapping at his stomach, you had felt how big he was but you hadn’t seen it. “I don’t think you’ll fit, too big, Leon” He shakes his head, moving to kneel on the sofa, his hands hooking around your knees and pushing them up to your shoulders. Your hands clench at the blanket somewhat forgotten.

“It will fit, I’ll make it fit” He gave himself a few strokes before moving the tip between your dripping folds, bumping the clit, and making both of you moan “God baby, so hot” he groaned out as he pushed into you slowly, making you take him inch by inch. You whined as he stretched you out, hands moving to grip his arms. Leon’s movement stutters slightly at the feel of your nails digging into him, but he bottoms out and gives you a moment to adjust. “Told you, I’d make it fit. Feels good don’t it, pretty?”

Your eyes are closed, and you nod, “Yes! Feels so good, Lee” you tug his arms, hips rolling up and he gets the message. His own hips rut into you, he’s setting a face pace immediately and while he did want to take his time with you, he couldn’t wait. You both needed this, needed him buried deep inside you as he bullied his cock into you at a brutal pace. The blonde presses his body weight onto you, forcing your knees past your ears and his hips don’t stop.

One of his hands move your body, gently touching your breasts before stopping at your neck where it makes the prettiest necklace. He applies a slight pressure, enough to have you arching up and gasping as your eyes open to look up at him. And your legs shake at the sight of this man above you. He looks nothing short of an angel. Your cunt clenches around his cock as his hips snap into your thighs and the head bumps your cervix.

His other hand leaves a bruise of the fat of your thigh from the grip, he leans down to press another searing kiss to your mouth, and he keeps his pace up. The sound of his skin hitting yours fills the apartment, and you almost feel sorry for your other neighbours if it wasn’t for the pleasure clouding your mind. His tongue licks into your mouth, wet and heavy as you try to keep up with his pace but your legs shake and he grins into the kiss before he’s pulling away “What’s wrong honey? Gonna cum again already? Don’t be shy, sweetheart”.

Leons mouth travels from yours to your neck, leaving marks into your skin that match the one on your thigh, until he’s level with your tits. His eyes remain on you as your head falls back. The sensation of his tongue swirling at your nipple and the drag of his cock against your walls has your mind spinning. Words fall on your tongue, turning into whimpers as he suckles at your breasts. He gently nips before moving on the other one “Looked a lil lonely, better make it even” and he does. Your nothing but a shaky mess below him while he decorates your skin in reds. He has you pinned down as your hips buck up.

Then the hand from your thigh moves between your bodies, down to where he’s been grinding into you. His thumb finding your sensitive clit again, the feeling as you squeeze down onto him again and he moans around your breast. Leon starts to rut into you slower, causing you to be frustrated but he only looks up at you from where he mouths at your nipple with a raised eyebrow. He does one hard and fast thrust and your head is thrown back. He keeps this rhythm up, slow thrusts with one fast for a while until your squirming.

“leon, please, faster, need” He lets go of your tit with a pop, moving so he’s kneeling up right. His hand squeezes your neck once before both are placed on the back of your thighs. Suddenly you get the feeling you should have let him continue his pace. But your eyes are rolling back as you try to find something to grip, his hips piston into you ruthless pace. Skin slapping against skin. Your mind is blank, and Leon adores the looks on your face as he fucks you merciless.

He feels your legs tremble below his fingers, and he pushes you further back so he can watch as your pussy sucks him in, trying to keep his cock buried deep inside you. Spit drools down your chin, your eyes unfocused on anything as you stare at the ceiling, unable to think of anything but the way Leon fucks you. With a loud moan, you reach that peak again. Legs kicking as well as they can in this position “Oh fuck!” falls from Leons mouth as he continues grinding into you, his body falling onto yours as he follows quickly. His hot load filling you with thick ropes.

You both lay there for a moment before you feel Leon move, he sits back up on his haunches, phone in hand. And you whine “Just want some pictures of my pretty girl, they’re all for me don’t you worry” the idea almost has you wanting to go again, instead you look at him and move your hands to help hold your legs up. Leon’s eyes darken as he begins taking pictures. Some of him still plugging you up, but most of the way his seed spills out of you and a video (that you don’t realise he’s taken) of him pushing it back in.

When he’s done and the phones back on the floor, he leans down to press sweet kisses to your mouth, his hand soothing over your thighs and gently massaging your breasts. “Want me to help you to the bathroom, sweet girl?” The nod you gives him is slow, your head still syrupy as he picks you up bridal style, carefully carrying you to the bathroom.

#leon kennedy x reader #re4!leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #Leon Kennedy #Leon scott Kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x f!reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil x reader #re4!LeonKennedy x f!reader #RE4R Leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 x reader

2K notes · View notes

dazedandconfused-15 · 7 months ago

Text

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 2)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

@tatumrileyslover @nocturnest @i-keepmyideals @eddiestans-blog here you go!

______________________________________________________________

It has been exactly six days since Billy dropped you home that Monday after the trip. The following days he never fails to greet you if you cross paths in the hallways. He hasn't ignored you once, even though you haven't called him yet. The truth is, you are terrified of doing so. When you think about dialing his number, two days later, you think it's too soon and you will look desperate, so you put the phone receiver back in its place. At the same time, you keep mulling over his words. 'Call me when you feel like it'. It means you don't have to call him right away, maybe he really means to call him when you feel like it. On Saturday morning, you decide it's the perfect time to call him. Enough time has passed to avoid seeming desperate, but not so much that it seems like you don't want anything to do with him. You need to repay the favor, and even though it's pouring rain outside, you pick up the phone.

After a couple of hours of pondering and racking your brain, you decide to take the risk and go for it. You had written Billy's number down as soon as you got inside, safely on a piece of paper. As the phone rings, you're already regretting your decision, feeling nervous as hell.

“Hello,” a girl's voice answers.

“Oh, um, hello. Is Billy there?”

You definitely didn’t expect a girl to answer. She sounds very young.

“Hold on,” she says, sounding bored. You quickly move the phone away from your ear as she screams Billy’s name.

A few seconds later you hear the rustle of the phone being moved around. “...cking yelling like a banshee. Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N” you say, hoping he remembers your name. It would be weird if that’s the case.

“Hey. What’s up?” he says instead.

You instantly feel relieved.

“You told me to call you when I wanted. I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“‘Course not,” he says. “You okay?”

“I’m good, thank you. And you?”

“Yeah, same. What you’re doing today?”

“Um, nothing special.” You glance at the window. “The weather is awful. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite?” It feels like you’re inviting him on a date. It’s embarrassing. “Since it’s raining.” Now you’re repeating yourself. You’re glad he can’t see you blushing furiously as you keep rambling. “I mean, remember you told me you wanted to see more of Hawkins? I saw the weather and thought about this place. It’s a bit outside of town. If you don’t have anything planned.”

“Yeah, sure. Just need to finish working on some stuff. I can pick you up at seven.”

“Seven is perfect,” you say, your heart still hammering in your chest. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

You change clothes at least three times, unable to decide what to wear. You don't even know why you're making such a big deal out of it—it's not a date, just an outing between friends. Actually, you two aren't even that close. But don't dwell on that too much; what is the reason for your outing, anyway? Originally, it was to show Billy the rest of Hawkins. Dinner is part of that plan, but Benny's Burger isn't one of the places he mentioned, even though it's a bit more isolated. However, that didn't seem to bother him. This time, you decide to bring enough money to pay for both of you. It's the least you can do.

Despite anticipating this moment with secret enthusiasm, seven o'clock arrives faster than you'd like. You leave the house in the pouring rain to find Billy's Camaro idling in front of your trailer, its low rumble cutting through the night. You hurry to open the door and close your umbrella, trying not to let any water into the car. As you settle into the seat and turn to greet him, your breath catches. You try not to look too impressed by the sight of him as you fix your wet hair, but a quick glance is enough to get your heart racing. You’re increasingly convinced that this man has no physical flaws, and that thought destabilizes you. He’s wearing a white tank top under a black leather jacket, with blue jeans that fit like they were tailor-made for him. As he puts his hand on your seat and looks over his shoulder to back up, he manages to keep his cigarette firmly between his fingers, one hand on the steering wheel. You take the opportunity to steal a glance at him. The movement brings him closer, and the scent of his cologne reaches your nostrils, making your skin prickle. His long curls are perfectly styled, reminding you of a lion.

“I didn’t think you’d actually call.” he says as he shifts from reverse to first, heading toward the end of the trailer park.

“Oh,” you say. “Why is that?”

“Dunno.” he chuckles, his long lashes brushing his cheekbones. “Maybe you were scared of me or something.”

His sentence moves something inside you. "Oh. Not at all,” you say, your voice carrying a hint of determination. You are determined to make him understand that you may be shy, but you are not a fragile little thing. "I'm not scared of you."

“You’re not?” his voice is like a low rumble, it burns through you and sets you on fire.

“Uh-huh.” your mouth feels dry, and you distract yourself by feeling the hot air coming out of the vent with your hands.

“Good.”

When you walk into Benny's Burger, it's practically deserted. There's just a couple of old gentlemen. From the way they are dressed, they look like fishermen. It looks like they have recently ordered because there is only cutlery and two glasses of beer on their table. Benny Hammond comes to take your order and greets you warmly. He and your dad are good friends, they went to school together here in Hawkins. Billy orders a double burger and a large portion of fries, and you order a steak with a small portion of fries. You were afraid the evening would be punctuated by few words and awkward silences. Billy is not the biggest of talkers, but the feeling of uneasiness quickly vanishes as the night goes on. You tell him about your dad and Benny, recounting how your dad was born and raised in Hawkins. When you tell him about his travels, you linger and talk a lot about California. Billy is curious about what your dad did there for five years. Then you tell him how he went to Jamaica alone and risked his life several times but had a good time. Then Billy tells you how his group of friends in California had been very diverse, two of them being a Jamaican and a Filipino. He tells you how good their mothers' cooking was when he was invited to eat at their house. You are surprised how the conversation always manages to bounce back.

Half an hour later, Billy has cleared his plate. You, on the other hand, are still struggling to finish your steak, so he finishes it for you. You comment in amazement that he eats like a horse, then immediately apologize, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. Billy laughs and tells you he does weight training five times a week. You feel like saying you've noticed, but luckily manage to stop yourself in time and avoid further embarrassment.

You insist on paying to make up from last time, but Billy refuses categorically. You feel guilty, but his stubbornness prevents you from doing anything else. When you leave the restaurant, it has stopped raining. The smell of rain rises from the asphalt of the car park. As you walk towards the parked Camaro, you cross your arms over your chest, suppressing a shiver. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy take off his jacket.

"No, don't take it off, I'm good, really." you tell him, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Here,” Billy drapes it over your shoulder anyway. The weight of a jacket and the smell of leather envelop you. You try not to show your surprise as his warm hand gently squeezes the back of your neck. “Just wrap it around yourself. Don’t wanna catch a cold.”

His hand seems to leave an imprint on your skin. You didn’t know you would like his touch so much until now. The sound of zippo rips through the silence and your mind. Billy walks past you, the orange glow of a freshly lit cigarette is the only light in the evening darkness. He opens the driver’s door and bents inside, inserting the keys and fiddling with the radio. You lean your back against the side of the car, enveloped in the warmth of his jacket, still carrying the lingering heat from his body. You breathe through the collar of it, smelling the faint scent of his cologne.

The gentle guitar strumming of ‘Landslide’ wafts through the air as Billy closes the door, windows down, and leans against the car, beside you. You turn towards him, your eyes dragging over his body covered only by his wifebeater. He takes a drag from his cigarette, the tip of it vibrating until it almost turns red.

"You’re sure you're not cold?" you ask, daring to be a bit bolder and nudging his shoulder gently.

Billy nudges you back, mumbling around his cigarette. “Hey, I’m a tough guy.”

You softly shake your head at his answer, looking at the trees in front of you, forming a wall of darkness, a trickle of wind shakes them slightly in the breeze. “I love this song,” you say with a soft smile. Then you look at him. “I didn’t know you liked Fleetwood Mac”.

“What did you think I liked?” Billy asks after exhaling the smoke, taking the cigarette from his mouth.

“I don’t know,” you hesitate, hoping he doesn't misinterpret your words. “I thought you were more into metal. Just ‘cause I heard you playing it from your car sometimes.” you hastily add.

Billy hums in acknowledgment. “So you were watching me, huh?”

“No, it’s not that! You just, sometimes the music is very loud.”

He laughs, and it’s such a pleasant sound. It makes your insides swirl. “S’alright. I do play my music very loud.” he flicks the cigarette on the ground, the glowing ashes extinguishing silently on the wet asphalt. “I listen to metal, yeah, but I like rock in general. Hard rock, folk rock,” he jerks his head to his right where the music comes from.

You hum thoughtfully, tightening his jacket around you. “That’s nice. I think they’re among my favorite folk rock bands.

“Those guys?”

“Yes.”

Billy nods his head. “They’re cool, yeah. What else do you like?”

You hum while thinking. “There’s lots. My dad likes all these rock bands, like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and a bunch of others. I picked it up from him. He used to blast them in the house when I was little," you recall with a soft smile. "He's a big fan."

“Well, well, well.” Billy grins in appreciation, his smoldering eyes on you. “Didn’t know little miss was so cool.”

You let out a small laugh, and put a strand of hair behind your ear with a shake of your head to do something with your hands. You thank the night for hiding how flustered you are. “I just…”

“What else are you hiding?” he tilts his head toward you, the warming mood bringing him closer than before, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“Not much.” you laugh again, unable to meet his eyes.

“Huh-huh,” he mumbles playfully, bringing the cigarette to his mouth.

You switch the conversation on him, to shift the attention from you. “And how did you start listening to rock?”

Billy initially stays quiet. At a certain point, you’re almost convinced he either didn’t hear you or doesn’t want to answer.

“My mom.” he finally says. You look at him, instantly feeling the shift in his mood. “She listened to all this folk stuff, like Joni Mitchell, Mamas and Papas, Bob Dylan. I remember hearing it play in the house since I was a toddler.” he muses, and for a moment seems lost in the memory, breathes a silent laugh through his nose. “She was a bit of a hippie.”

You can imagine his mom dancing barefoot in the living room, him mirroring her movement with a smiling chubby face, his bright blue eyes looking up in adoration at her.

“And my old man didn’t like that part of her one bit,” he says then, his voice turning acidic. He flicks his cigarette again. “You meet someone and expect them to change what they are for you. Kinda makes sense, huh?”

Something in the way he talks about her suggests to you that her mother is part of his past. You don't know on what level, but surely the whole thing didn't end well. And that's one of the sensitive topics regarding his life in California.

‘Dreams’ starts playing next, filling the last few seconds of silence. It makes you think about the vinyl of that album you bought in Chicago when you spent part of last summer at your grandparents’. It was the right before your mom left.

"I think it’s kind of cool. It's usually always dads who listen to that music,” you say gently in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, no.” Billy snorts. “Surely not mine. He thinks that’s the Devil’s music. Still into that conservative bullshit.”

“My grandma thinks the same,” you comment. “I had ‘Rumours’ on vinyl before.” you start, referring to the current song’s album. I bought it that summer when I visited them in Chicago. It got damaged shortly after buying it. I still think she broke it on purpose.

“Shit. That sucks.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s my favorite one.”

“Do you still have your record player?”

“Yes. I have a few other vinyls too.”

As the two of you continue to talk about music, a topic you didn't think you'd be on the same tune on, the mood returns to a lighter one. Soon later, the rain starts falling again stopping you in the middle of your conversation and you both realize it got late. Billy crushes his unfinished cigarette with his boot and you get in the car.

“Thanks for paying tonight. Again,” you tell him sheepishly once on the drive back home.

Billy slightly lowers the radio's volume until the guitar strums are just background noise, his eyes fixed on the road. “There’s lots of other ways to make it up to me, but I won’t let you pay. Sorry, sweetheart."

His tone suggests he's not sorry at all. It almost sounds like it’s out of the question for him. You try to ignore how the nickname makes your heart flutter, refusing to dwell on its meaning.

“But why?”

“Because,” he chuckles, probably amused by how you seem fixated on the question. “It’s just the way it works.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” you mumble quietly, burying half of your face in his big jacket still wrapped around you and suppressing a shiver.

“Shit. Does it always rain in this shithole?” he squints his eyes a little bit as he lifts the lever to increase the windshield wiper's speed. The rain is now pelting the car more aggressively.

“I think it’s because you’re used to California,” you say gently.

There still are a few droplets of water on his naked arms and shoulders. However, he doesn’t seem to feel cold since he’s not shivering.

“Guess so,” he mutters.

For the first time, you notice he has a tattoo on his shoulder. It’s a skull smoking a cigarette. You wonder when he got it done, what does it represent?

Before you can stop, your mouth talks. Your voice is quiet, but it is still audible. “That’s a cool tattoo.”

He turns his head toward you, and for a moment he seems surprised. Then his face settles back into a composed expression, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Yeah, you like it?" he responds casually, you swear his tone betrays a touch of warmth.

“Mh-mh.” you nod, feeling comfortable enough to say what you really think next. “It suits who you are.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath. “What do you think that is?"

Maybe it’s the relentless thundering of the rain over you, maybe it’s the fact that it’s pitch dark or you’re slowly being accustomed to being around him. You feel a sense of comfort enveloping you.

“I think… You’re tough on the outside, you always act distant from what surrounds you, like you don’t care about anything and anyone. But deep down, you’re kind-hearted and really gentle.”

The only sound breaking the silence is the soft hum of the music and the harsh drumming of rain against the car. Your swallow seems thunderously loud in the quiet, but the collar of his jacket offers some solace. Glancing at him, you breathe in the scent of leather and him, focusing on his forearms—robust yet slender—then his hands gripping the steering wheel, long fingers lightly wrapped around it. You wonder what it would feel like to have his arms around you, his hands on your waist, neck, cheeks. Every thump of your heart against your ribcage feels hyper-aware.

“Like, incredibly kind and gentle,” you venture, sensing the weight of your words. It's why you try to cloak yourself in the armor of a rough exterior, a fortress formed by sharp cutting gazes, sharky smiles and skinned knuckles. You want to say more, but it feels too personal, too revealing. You know he wouldn't handle it well. It would make him feel vulnerable, prompting him to close off. You guess he’s hiding some things from himself and the world, afraid it would spill over and flood the fragile sanctuary of his soul.

Billy chuckles softly, his tone light yet evasive. "You're painting me as a real softie, aren't you?" his words carry a playful edge, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. His eyes won’t meet yours, though. There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks again. "Got it last year. The tattoo. Hurt like a bitch."

You notice his subtle attempt to divert the conversation. But you can’t blame him. You went a bit too hard.

“I want to get one too. Someday,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” he glances at you.”D’you have something in mind?”

“Not really…I guess I’d have to think about it.”

“You should. It’s gonna be there forever. Unless you get it lasered off, which is a new thing. And that’s a whole other level of pain.”

Just to make you think about it makes you shiver. “Laser it��?”

“Yeah.”

Getting a tattoo is something you have to ponder for a long time indeed. And you’ve always had a penchant for changing your mind. Getting excited about ideas, projects, and it always seemed to work for a long time until you changed your mind. Or something happened and you consequently changed your vision of things. You’ve always been uncertain. Your life had a penchant for unexpected events and uncertainties as well.

“Maybe getting a tattoo is not for me,” you mumble. “I’m bad at making decisions. I feel like all of my life is going to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

As the car slows down, you realize you’re already driving on Forrest Hill trail road.

“I mean…” you sigh, uncertain whether to delve into what’s on your mind and risk exposing yourself. But Billy opened up tonight, so you feel compelled to do the same. It also feels kind of natural. “In my life, things always seem to take unexpected turns. Often in a bad way. I can never know what to expect. And I don’t like that.”

The car comes to a halt, and you find yourselves parked in front of your trailer.

“Well, I could tell you ‘That’s the beauty of it’ or some stupid shit like that. But huh…” he chuckles, shaking his head as he rattles the pack of cigarettes in his palm to extract one. “My life has been a shit show itself. So, I get it.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say softly. That’s all you can say, you can only imagine from the vague piece of information he gave you.

Billy shrugs as if to brush it off. It’s so natural it looks rehearsed. You wish you could tell him it does matter, that he deserved to have a happy childhood, he deserves a happy life.

“I wish I could at least have a hint. Even if it’s just one piece of information. I don’t like all of this uncertainty,” you continue. You've known Billy long enough to understand he doesn’t appreciate pity, or even anything that remotely seems like pity. “I wish I could see my future. My grandma…” you stop yourself with an embarrassed laugh. “I know this is gonna sound stupid. It’s probably not true anyways. But I’ve always wanted to get my palm read. My grandma used to know how to do it.”

Met with silence, you feel the familiar burn of shame and regret welling up inside you. Why would you say that? He’s probably thinking you’re crazy for believing in this stuff.

“Wanna give it a shot?”

You turn toward him in surprise. “You know how?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at it.” he shrugs, putting the pack of cigarettes in the compartment. Then places his cigarette behind his ear. “Come on.” he holds his palm in invitation. You place your hand in his, palm facing up.

“Alright,” he begins, tracing a line with his fingertip, “This here, is your headline. It’s curved and wavy, which means you’re creative and intuitive. You think outside the box, not afraid to follow your own path.”

You watch his face, his concentration as he reads your lines. “And this one. Huh. Oh yeah. See, your lifeline is strong and deep,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. “That means you’re full of energy, and vitality. You’ve got resilience, no matter what life throws at you.”

He shifts his focus to another line, “An this, here, this is your fate line. Not everyone has one. Suggests you’ve got a purpose, something you’re meant to do, and it’ll shape your life significantly. Basically, your destiny is in your hands.”

His thumb moves lightly over your palm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Your skin is soft. How's it so soft all the time?” he almost mutters to himself. “Means you’re sensitive, maybe a bit sheltered. Shows you’re not letting anyone in. But it’s not a bad thing, you know what I mean?”

You could listen to his voice forever. It’s like a low melody, resonating deep within you.

“How do you know all this?” you breathe, your eyes studying his face.

“Told you my mom was a hippie. She was into all of this stuff. Taught me how to do it. Shit”, he chuckles. “...haven’t done that since I was ten probably.”

Finally, he traces the heart line, deep and prominent. “And this,” he says, rubbing his finger across a line that nearly runs the full width of your palm. “is your heart line. It runs deep, straight across. It means you feel things intensely. You love deeply, but you also hurt deeply. See this?” he presses his thumb into the little fleshy space between the first and middle fingers, then meets your eyes. “When it curves outward like this, it means you’re willing to give a lot to the other person. Like, you give all of you.”

You are caught between the urge to look away from him and hold his gaze. His tourmaline eyes are two deep pools in which you swear you can lose yourself.

“I uh, we’ll see about that.” you manage to say. “I haven’t had anything like that before.”

“Haven’t had a boyfriend yet?”

A small laugh escapes your lips at your own embarrassment. His own slightly twitch too. “God, no. I haven't exactly been in the game.”

“So nada, huh?”

One of his thumbs caresses your palm, the other the skin of the inside of your wrist, drawing circles. It sends tingling along your body. A pleasant shiver that makes your whole body aware, a hot sensation in the pit of your stomach, all your nerves rising. You can feel something hanging in the air, a palpable tension, but you also wonder if it's just your imagination running wild. Being inexperienced as you are, perhaps it’s all in your head, and all of this is fueled by the undeniable attraction you feel toward him. Then Billy jerks his chin toward your right.

“Looks like your dad is waiting for you.”

You follow the direction he’s pointing at. Indeed, the little light outside the trailer is lit. Your dad is peering at the small window on the door, you can see him munching a pickle in the meantime. As you’ve been burned, you quickly retract your hand from his.

You are grateful to your dad for entering the picture and getting you out of this situation. With him looking at both of you, you can do little other than simply greet Billy without a second thought. Had he not been there, you would surely have stumbled over your words.

“Oh, uhm. Sorry about that.” you chew at your bottom lip before looking back at Billy, an apologetic expression on your face. It’s embarrassing. “He was probably worried, he does that when I come back late. Oh,” you suddenly remember you’re still wearing his jacket, so you quickly take it off. “Here. Thank you. I’ll see you at school?”

Billy takes the jacket. “Yeah. See you there. Sleep tight.”

You want to ask him if another hangout is on the program, but you don’t wanna press too much, so you hurry inside the trailer with your heart a little lighter and a thousand questions. In your bed, you keep replaying the hours spent with him unable to fall asleep. His change of tone and attitude when he talks about his parents lingers in the back of your mind. You don't know his story in depth, but you are increasingly convinced that he and you share more than you think.

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove x oc #dacre montgomery #stranger things smut #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #dacryphilia #slow burn #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #eddie munson #billy hargrove x y/n #billy stranger things #smut #80s #billy hargrove

259 notes · View notes

intimidating-fettuccine · 6 months ago

Text

Yandere diaries. || Toby x reader. A new (possible) series I got the idea to do of the creeps doing diaries showing them gradually becoming yandere.

3k words. CW: Yandere, adult content (mentions of arousal and references to masturbation), descriptions of violence and gore, unhealthy relationships, severe abuse, delusions, Toby slipping into insanity and also being an unhonest/unreliable narrator with how awful he’s being.

4/26/22 -

I met someone new today! We bumped into each other at a park I like to go to on Earth. They were so kind to me. We ended up getting ice cream together and exchanging numbers. I hope I can see them again soon.

5/11/22 -

I’ve been able to see them a couple more times. We’ve been messaging regularly, and have also called a couple of times. I’ve never felt so connected to someone so quickly before. We have a lot in common, and they don’t even mind any of my tics or odd quirks. We have a plan to meet up this weekend and go to the movies together, I’m really looking forward to it. I hope we continue to be friends with each other for a long time!

5/14/22 -

I just got home. We had such a fun time at the movies! We saw one of the more recent horror films together. They got scared partway through and clung onto me to feel better, and it made me feel really happy and protective over them. I wouldn’t mind seeing more horror movies with them in the future if it means that they’d do that again. We haven’t known each other very long, but I feel so connected and interested in them, I feel sparks every time they touch me. Is this what falling in love feels like?

6/21/22 -

I haven’t been able to see them for a few weeks because of our schedule differences. I feel like I’ve been excessively sad because of that. I just feel like my life is so much dimmer without them. I wanna go to the park with them again, eat ice cream, and curl up under a tree with them. I wish I could be with them every day.

7/29/22 -

We haven’t known each other for a very long time, but I’m certain they’re the person I’m meant to be with for the rest of my life. They make me the happiest I’ve ever felt, they understand me like nobody has ever understood me before, I just feel so carefree and excited in their presence. I think they might feel the same way about me too. I need to try my best to build up some courage and ask them to be my partner before someone else can.

8/11/22 -

I asked them on a date and they said yes!! I’ve never felt more excited than I am right now!! We’re going on our first date in a few days. I need to make sure I have a nice outfit to wear because I want to take them somewhere nice to eat, and then we’re gonna go for a walk together and stargaze. My life truly feels so complete and wonderful right now, I feel like I’m finally on a path to keep getting better with them in my life!

11/24/22 -

I haven’t been dating them very long, but I convinced Slender to allow me to invite them to Thanksgiving dinner. Normally we have to date our partners for a year, but I just know our relationship is going to work out, so I don’t feel the need to wait that long. They had so much fun meeting everyone, and they were happy the whole time. I felt a bit jealous that they didn’t pay as much attention to me, but that’s okay because there were so many new people they had to meet. I’m sure next time I invite them over they won’t pay anyone else any attention. I’m looking forward to having them over here more often!

12/14/22 -

I got into an argument with Jeff today. I had them over to visit me, and I stepped away for a minute to get us some snacks and Jeff so rudely decided to try and steal their attention from me. It isn’t fair! He was trying to make them laugh and hang out with him instead of me!! I got really angry and I started yelling at him, and he yelled back at me, claiming he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He’s not allowed to just walk up to them and act like they’re buddy-buddy. They’re my partner, and they’re here for me. Nobody else has the right to their attention but me.

12/25/22 -

I got to celebrate my first Christmas with them today. We spent a little bit of time downstairs with the others, but then I wanted to bring them upstairs to my room so we could be together alone. I gave them a bracelet with our names on it so that everyone would know they belonged to someone, and they seemed to like it. However, I got a bit upset at them. They said they had to go home so they could celebrate with their friends and family too, but aren’t I good enough? Aren’t I their family now? It doesn’t make any sense to me why they couldn’t just stay at the mansion, but I let them go. I’ll have a talk with them about this later.

1/24/23 -

We had another argument again. They have this friend that keeps overstepping his boundaries and I don’t appreciate it. He’s been hogging their attention recently and hanging out with them more and it’s seriously fucking pissing me off. They wouldn’t stop talking to him so I had to lie to them about him to finally get them to back off from him a bit. I wouldn’t normally want to do that, but it’s for their own good. Nobody should be hogging them away from me that much. Their friends are lucky I even allow them to talk with my dove at all. I think that’s what I’ll start calling them, now that I think about it. My sweet, soaring Dove.

2/17/23 -

I ended up getting into a fight with one of Dove’s friends. I was trying to make sure I could spend Valentine’s with Dove, but this friend wanted to be able to see them that day since he’s going on a trip soon or some other stupid excuse. It pissed me off. IM their boyfriend, that day is for US. I confronted him to get him to back off but he had the nerve to stand his ground. I had to beat the shit out of him to get him to understand his place. It’s been three days, and apparently, he hasn’t contacted them since. Good. One less pest I have to worry about. Dove was a little suspicious when I came home with torn-up knuckles that day, but I just told them it happened during training and they believed me. They even took the time and care to bandage me up. They really are so special to me. Nobody else can have them.

3/18/23 -

I’ve never really thought much about blood before. When it’s on myself or my victims, I’ve never really cared about it, I’ve actually usually thought it was gross, but it was different today. Dove got this gash when we were out on a hike from tripping and slicing their arm on a sharp rock. Normally the blood wouldn’t have bothered me, but it was just so pretty. The red spreading across their skin was just so alluring. Of course, I got them cleaned off and patched up as soon as I could, but my heart is racing just remembering it. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hope they get cut again soon. I have to confirm if this feeling inside me is real or just a one-off.

3/28/23 -

It wasn’t a one-off. We were cooking, and they were using one of our sharper knives. My curiosity got the better of me, and I “accidentally” bumped into them from behind. They ended up cutting themself, and their blood was just as alluring today, flowing freely out of their finger. I ended up putting their finger in my mouth to suck the blood off, and I’ve never tasted something so intoxicating before. They were a bit confused, but I just played it off and they let it go. Holy shit. I feel like I have to taste it again. I have to. The red on their skin, the metallic lingering taste in my mouth. It’s so addicting. It honestly made me a bit excited, I had to take a moment to myself so they wouldn’t notice.

4/16/23 -

I bit them. We were making out, and I just felt myself getting so worked up. I pinned them down on my mattress, and I started kissing down Dove’s neck. I couldn’t help it, my heart was beating so fast and I felt myself getting dizzy, and I bit them really hard. Their skin was so soft in my mouth, and blood started oozing out, running against my teeth and my tongue, and my lips, it was so warm and exciting, it felt like I was getting drunk. Dove didn’t like it though. They screamed and cried and begged me to stop, and I didn’t want to, but I did. I bandaged them up and apologized and feigned innocence. They said they wanted to go home early, so I took them to not get on their bad side anymore. I was so worked up though. I had to take care of myself when I got home, I was just so turned on. I have to do it again somehow. They won’t like it, but I have to. Nothing has ever felt so pleasing before.

4/29/23 -

I tried to bite them again, and they realized it wasn’t an accident this time. They yelled at me and hit me to get me off of them, and I hit them back much harder. They looked so broken and upset while they cried, but their tears and screams got me just as turned on as their blood did. The bruise that formed on their cheek was so beautiful. I held them close and apologized a whole bunch because I don’t want them to hate me. I cried a lot and I meant it. I promised I wouldn’t do it again, which I guess I didn’t mean. However, they can’t just disobey me like that. I need to try and be on my best behavior so they can be more relaxed around me. I can’t have them fighting back every time I want to do something to them.

5/09/23 -

I think my Dove needs to be caged. They’ve gotten so used to flying free that they need to be grounded and brought back to reality. I keep trying to limit their interactions with others because they keep poisoning my Dove against me, and Dove tried to fight me today. We got in a big yelling match, but I was able to calm myself down in the nick of time so that I didn’t make things worse. I got them to calm down, and we’re gonna have some space between us for a few weeks. I think I’m going to take this opportunity to my advantage.

5/30/23 -

While we haven’t been spending time together, I’ve been working hard. I found an old house in the Underworld for cheap, and I’ve been rebuilding it and fixing it up. I altered it to be able to hold Dove in without their escape, and I’m so excited about it. I’ve got a bedroom I’m setting up for them, and a nice kitchen because they’ve always liked cooking with me. I know Dove is going to love it so much when I bring them here in a few weeks. It’s going to be the best thing for us. Dove is too innocent about the world around them, and I have to be able to protect them. Nobody else can do a better job than I can.

6/08/23 -

[Parts of the entry have been torn. Words are smudged or crossed out and it is not completely legible, but some of it remains visible. *Full translation will be added at the end for those that use translators/text to speech.]

I CAN'T FU—— BELI— TH—!! DOVE WAS TRY— TO MOVE!! THEY W— TRYING TO LE—E ME!! THAT STU— BASTARD [Redacted] TRIED TO TA— THEM F—M ME! WHEN ALL IVE ———— IS PROTECT TH— AND THIS IS —— REPAY ME?!? I'VE NEVER BE— SO ANGRY!!!

Dove is FUCKING LU—Y I had the home re—y! If not, I wo—d’ve just thrown th— in the fucki— basement!!! [Redacted] got wh— they deser—. I be— the- so bad you —— —king recognize —. I’ll du— the bo— som—ere else.

7/06/23 -

Dove hasn’t been making things any easier. Since they last tried to move away things have been such a fucking pain in the ass. They were so scared when I locked them in here. I wanted it to be a warm welcome, where I’d bring them here voluntarily, but they had to go and ruin it because of [Redacted] sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. They tried to run away a few days ago, and I went to write about it but I was so fucking pissed I ripped the page to shreds. I had to break their ankles so that they wouldn’t be able to run again, least not for a long while. I’ve also been keeping them tied up more, but it’s easier now that they can’t walk. The bruises on their legs are just so beautiful. I think I might keep them like this, even though they cry every day from the pain and the circumstances, but their tears are beautiful as well. I have to get more painkillers soon for them.

10/18/23 -

It’s been a while since I’ve updated. Things have been going smoother lately. Every time Dove’s ankles start to heal, I’ve been breaking them again. I just can’t trust them because they tried to escape again. I’ve been enjoying myself a lot more. I can bite them and cut them and hit them whenever I want to. I can taste their blood and chew their skin and bruise their beautiful body however I like. Of course, sometimes it makes me sad when Dove gets so upset about it. I don’t know what to do. It gets me so turned on and riled up like nothing ever has before, but I also want them to love me. They haven’t been fighting back anymore, so I think they’re getting used to it. We’ll see.

12/25/23 -

It’s our second Christmas together. I got Dove a bunch of things they asked for since they’ve been so good. They seem to have given up hope of resisting me, and it’s made me so happy. They even made me a cake for Christmas, and it was so delicious. I’m so happy we can be together again like this, just a happy couple with no interruptions. It’s truly the best gift I could have received this year.

2/16/24 -

I’ve been letting Dove’s ankles and legs fully heal. They truly haven’t been trying anything, and they’ve been so devoted to being a good partner for me, I don’t think I need to break them anymore to teach them a lesson. They can nearly stand on their own now, and they seem so happy. They said it’s because they can hug me while standing, and that made me so happy to hear. We’ve started cooking together again. We’re becoming a happy family, and I’m so glad I was right that Dove is the one for me. They even let me bite them as much as I wanted today, and they let me scratch them too, they didn’t even cry out today. I could tell they were trying really hard, so it made me very happy.

4/25/24 -

Things have still been going well. Their legs have healed up perfectly. It’s been five months since I last broke them, and I think they’re so grateful for it. They don’t disobey me, they do everything I ask, they’re so affectionate and loving with me. It makes me so happy to know that they’re truly settling into life with me. I don’t think they mind how much I hurt them anymore. They don’t complain as much, but they still cry those same beautiful tears for me. I think they’re starting to enjoy it.

5/26/24 -

I have to go on an extended trip for a week soon because of work and I’m nervous. They said they’ll wait happily for me, but I’m still so, so nervous. However, earlier this month I was gone for a few days and they didn’t go anywhere. Dove actually welcomed me back happily. I think we’ll be okay. I think this is it, the true test. I know they’ll pass, but still, I can’t quiet the anxiety in my heart. I’ll have to spend as much time as possible with them and get out all my excitement before I have to leave. I’m going to miss the feeling of their skin beneath my fingers and teeth.

6/11/24 -

[This page has also been smeared and torn in anger. *Another fully corrected version will be at the bottom.]

I — FUCKING BE—VE THEY DI- TH— AG—!!! THEY R— AW—!! THE- STOL- SO MU— —IT FRO- ME!! THEY TO— THE MO—Y I HA- HIDDEN!!!! THE- TOOK FO— AN- CLO—— AN- LEFT!! I- SO FUCK—- ANGRY!!! I'LL K— THEM!!! I JUS- MIGH- FUCK— KIL- THEM!!! AT TH- VER- LEA— THEY— NEVE- WAL- AGAIN! WHEN I ———— NEVER ES— AGAIN! LOCKS, CA—S, CHA—S!! WHAT—— IT TAKES!!!!!!

Dove, you’d better pray to —y FUCKING DIETY in EXIST—— THAT I DON- FIN- —U!!! When I d-, you’re goin- to su——— much for do— th— to me.

6/08/23 -

I CANT FUCKING BELIEVE THIS!! DOVE WAS TRYING TO MOVE!! THEY WERE TRYING TO LEAVE ME!! THAT STUPID BASTARD [Redacted] TRIED TO TAKE THEM FROM ME! WHEN ALL IVE FUCKING DONE HERE IS PROTECT THEM AND THIS IS HOW THEY REPAY ME?!? I'VE NEVER BEEN SO ANGRY!!!

Dove is FUCKING LUCKY I had the home ready! If not, I would’ve just thrown them in the fucking basement!!! [Redacted] got what they deserved. I beat them so bad you can't even fucking recognize them. I’ll dump the body somewhere else.

6/11/24 -

I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE THEY DID THIS AGAIN!!! THEY RAN AWAY!! THEY STOLE SO MUCH SHIT FROM ME!! THEY TOOK THE MONEY I HAD HIDDEN!!!! THEY TOOK FOOD AND CLOTHES AND LEFT!! IM SO FUCKING ANGRY!!! I'LL KILL THEM!!! I JUST MIGHT FUCKING KILL THEM!!! AT THE VERY LEAST THEY'LL NEVER WALK AGAIN! WHEN I CATCH UP THEY WILL NEVER ESCAPE AGAIN! LOCKS, CAGES, CHAINS!! WHATEVER IT TAKES!!!!!!

Dove, you’d better pray to every FUCKING DIETY in EXISTENCE THAT I DON'T FIND YOU!!! When I do, you’re going to suffer so much for doing this to me.

#yandere #creepypasta yandere #yandere ticci toby #semi-spicy #creepypasta semi-spicy #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby semi-spicy

161 notes · View notes

ask-the-rag-dolly · 7 months ago

Note

Can we have more about The Awful digital hospital?

[ slams papers on desk ] i'm so glad you asked !

this au's still admittedly a huge work in progress and there's not really a lot down - though to be fair i'm not really that much of an au person . i take a million years to finish them shfsf

also fun fact that gooseworx made music for the awful hospital so this au was fated to happe

anyways the awful digital hospital is ... kind of a crossover but also Not ?? it's more like it's own thing that combines both elements of both medias , so no character is a one-on-one swap and there will be a lot of differing elements . nonetheless it's kind of hard to do this without spoiling the webcomic which i still highly recommend to read - one of the only medias that made me cry and laugh out loud lol

dolly's our favorite shrimp who , after being admitted into the hospital for an eye injury , has a son to save . kind of our most mentally stable ragatha because she doesn't have this thing called ' being trapped in a digital hell for years ' . still burdened with the voices though

2. rabbit is one of the other patients in the hospital that . may or may not have killed so much of the staff - which is why there's oddly so few of them . has been trapped in the hospital for years , which did a number on his morals .

of course being a digital space the said staff Can come back by rebuilding their code but still it's pretty odd this guy would unexistentialize people

3. here's the hospital staff . they were ... kind of decent at their jobs ? but [ SOMETHING ] leaked into the mainframe so everything's falling apart now . while some of the staff ( read : the nurses ) are friendlier than others they still will pose a threat if you are not in your room .

here's the only ones whose designs i have down . i do know that jax's a veterinarian , zooble's a surgeon , and kinger's a psychologist

4. zooble can also make tiny little zoobles with their zoobox . they generally help out with the surgery though there's one that escaped and became dolly's companion .

5. loo is the manager of a candy factory that totally does not use humans as its main ingredient . very friendly at first glance but if you're flesh and bones you're thrown in the sugar grinder . scramble was unwillingly taken in to become the cashier for the candy shop but oh well at least they're not being murdered .

there's a bunch more but i'm letting everything here cook first ... ! still happy to talk about this thing though i like thinking about my two fixations

#[ ooc ]#[ doodles ]#the awful digital hospital #tw body horror

215 notes · View notes

jade-bright · 6 months ago

Text

og @stereksimp ...I did my best

Later, at the basketball game...

Home 58 - 55 Visitor [4Q]

Crowd: Defence! clap! clap! Defence! clap! clap!

Lydia: So what's the deal with you and Hale?

Stiles: What do you mean?

Crowd: Ahhhhhhhhh.. [58 - 57]

Basketball coach: Positions! Hale! Stay on your man next time!

Lydia: I mean, why the sudden interest in you? I didn't even think he knew your name before

Stiles: (muttering) ignoring the underhanded insults, (clears throat) I'm fairly certain he still doesn't know my name

Coach: Hale! Get your head in the game!

Lydia: So why the sudden interest?

Stiles: (sighs) I don't know Lyds, I bumped into him once, insulted him right afterwards and suddenly he's everywhere! The library,-

Crowd: Let's go Cy-clones!-

Stiles: the locker rooms before and after lacrosse practice,-

Crowd: Let's go! Clap! clap! clap-clap-clap!

Stiles: always close to where I park my jeep

Crowd: Let's go-

Stiles: And I'm pretty sure I saw him and some older looking dude staring at me during lunch one time

Crowd: Aw- Defence!-

Lydia: hmm, so Derek Hale

Crowd: Defence!

Lydia: star basketball player

Crowd: clap! clap!

Lydia: who likely receives nothing but praise by everyone

Crowd: Defence!

Lydia: suddenly gets put in his place by you

Crowd: clap! clap!

Lydia: and now seems to have a great interest in you...

Crowd: Defence! clap! clap!

Lydia: I think, he has a crush on you

Ref: (whistle) Number 31! Technical foul! Two shots! [60 - 59]

Both turn, and like most of the crowd, are slightly shocked since this is Derek's first technical foul. Looks to see there's less than a minute left of the game...

Stiles: Lyds...when was the last time we lost a game

Lydia: The year before Derek joined the team...

Other team makes their first shot [60 - 60]

Stiles: (looks over at Derek on the court, thinks about all the odd occurrences that have happened... thinks back to what Lydia said...goes a little pink) ...how sure are you?

Lydia: Completely

Stiles: Okay... okay

[60 - 61]

Stiles: (to himself) let's see what you're all about. let's see what you got Derek Hale

Ref: (puts his arm straight up into the air, three fingers up)

...

Ref: (puts his other arm up, holding three fingers up)

Home 63 - 61 Visitor

139 notes · View notes

xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

Text

Fool For You

Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Life as a single dad but life is about to get way harder when Steve falls for his son's teacher.

warnings: fluff. slight angst: mentions of steve's childhood. steve is sad over his son's first day of school. No pronouns are used for reader but they're described to wearing fem clothing. Steve compares reader to Miss Honey from Matilda. Readers skin tone/ethnicity is not mentioned. fic is set in 91 (let's pretend Matilda had already come out by then). meet cute. mentions of being a single parent. Steve's son is named Danny. ending is rushed lmao lets pretend it's not. bad writing/grammar errors. Not proofread!! 18+ plus only, MDNI

*If I missed anything lmk!

a/n: Awe my beautiful lovies!!! we are halfway done with my wonderful birthday week :( I just want to thank each and every one of you for supporting me and showing me nonstop love. I love each and everyone of you so dearly!!!! I also wanna apologize for the late upload! I hope you guys can forgive me!

Maybe I’m crazy, but it’s hard to ignore you

And I can’t wrap my head around it, but it feels

Oh, like I loved you before.

Being back in the hallways of Hawkins Elementary felt odd. Everything has stayed the same since the last time Steve went there, the paint of the walls, the decorations, even the smell was all the same. It smelled like a chilly autumn morning and books, innocence and childhood - a smell he didn't even realize he missed so much until he entered the building.

The cinder block lined walls hold memories, locking them in place until the end of time. Now his son's will be there along with them, a new generation of the Harrington family ready to leave their mark.

Walking hand and hand with Danny, Steve feels every single emotion any parent would on their child's first day. It's bittersweet, stinging him right through the heart with sadness and patching itself up with a sense of excitement. Danny on the other hand is a ball of energy, bouncing with every step he takes, like he always does.

The small boy is nothing but big smiles, eyes darting everywhere as he takes in the new environment. His Ninja Turtle backpack is comically bigger than him, flopping off of the backs of his knees with every step he takes.

As he looks down at his son, who looks just like him at that age, a big rush of adoration falls onto the older man. Over the short five years that Steve became a dad, he's learned that you can fall in love with your baby all over again just like the first time you held them. Steve is always amazed by Danny and the amount of love that runs through his veins for the small boy, but sometimes you need a little refresher like right now.

"You excited to meet your new teacher, Danny?" Steve swings the small boys arm causing him to giggle.

Nodding his chestnut hair, he looks up at his father with wide eyes. "M'cited dad."

"You gonna make lots of friends?" Steve isn't sure if this question is appropriate but a part of him worries about his son's ability to make new friends, since Steve is the only one out of his friends that has a child.

"I fink so but they hav' to like tourtles." Danny isn't really bothered by the question too much, not when he's too focused on the bright decorations that stick all over the walls.

"Turtles, Dan." It comes out in a chuckle. Even though Steve always corrects his son on the word, he's still a sucker for the way he says it.

Making it to the end of the hall, they stop at the wooden door with the numbers 206 written over them. The memory of Steve's kindergarten years creep into his mind as they stand there, flashbacks of him holding his mom's hand as wet tears streamed down his face. He wonders if his mother remembers that or if she buried that in the back of her mind like everything else in his life.

Pulling himself out of his head, Steve knocks on the closed door and scoots back just a little to leave room for it to open. Crouching down to his son's level, he runs a nervous hand through his hair, fixing whatever pieces didn't stay down.

"Daddy, you're gonna mess it up." Danny pouts, lightly stomping his converse clad foot on the vinyl flooring.

Pulling his hand back, Steve realizes he's using his son for his anxious habits. "You're right, m'sorry. You gonna be okay?"

Danny rolls his eyes in a sassy way, the way that always makes Steve laugh. "Yesss dad."

Wow, his son is really his carbon copy.

The sound of the heavy door opening pulls both of their attention, Steve immediately springing up from his position wiping his clammy hands down his shirt.

Steve steels himself for who he's about to meet, releasing a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding. Now, Steve expected to see a middle aged woman, maybe even older. He pictured someone with a grandma type energy, sweet and welcoming. What he didn't expect was you.

Standing there in the doorway with the bright light of your classroom falling around you in a halo. A pretty floral dress hangs from your body, cinching your body just right without being too inappropriate. Your cheeks are puffed up as you smile brightly, eyes crinkled at the sides as you do.

You seem about the same age as Steve, no older than twenty five. Glasses sit on the top of your head, pushing back the front of your hair. In a way you remind him of Miss Honey, not looks wise but your aura. You're so fucking pretty and he doesn't think he'll be able to formulate a sentence.

"Let me guess," You stand with a hand on your hip, pretending to think hard, "You must be Mr. Daniel Harrington."

The little boy in question beams up at you, bouncing on his toes as he clutches his excited hands around the straps of his backpack.

"My dad calls me Danny." The lisp that he has is very noticeable when he says it. Steve can tell you want to coo so badly over the small boy, the flexing of your fingers not going unnoticed.

Crouching down to his level, you reach out a hand to Danny for a handshake. "What a pleasure to meet you Danny."

Placing his hand into yours, he shakes it in a jerky manner. His missing bottom tooth shows off with the way he smiles at you. Pulling your hand away, you stand up straight still looking at the small child.

"Danny whenever you're ready you can head right inside and find the cubby with your name on it!" Your voice is like the sun, bright and chipper.

Craning his next up to his dad, he waits for his dad's permission even though his body trembles with anticipation. Steve on the other hand doesn't want to let him go, not ready to detach himself from his baby he spent five years with.

Kneeling down, Steve wraps his son in one last hug. The sting of unshed tears hits his nose first, the lump that sits in the back of his throat waits patiently for the dam to break.

"Okay dad, I have to go!" The small boy giggles, not understanding the gravity of the situation. To him he thinks his dad is just being silly, not realizing that his dad's heart is breaking.

Reluctantly Steve pulls away, trying to remember the look on his son's face. His own flesh and blood, the boy he's worked so hard to raise by himself, and God is his heart full.

"Alright little man, go head inside." Tapping a heavy hand to the boy's head, he watches him duck into the classroom.

Popping back to his standing position, Steve tries his hardest to blink the tears away. You still stand there, observing the classroom behind your shoulder.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington," You call out before he can leave and he's quick to interrupt you.

"Please, call me Steve. I feel like I'm too young to be Mr. Harrington." He half chuckles, ignoring the skip of his heart when he makes eye contact with you.

"Steve," You correct, a bashful smile on your face, "I wanted to ask if you would be the only person to pick him up or if your wife would also be included in pick ups and drop offs."

"Oh, no I'm not- his mom isn't." Lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, he thinks of the best way to say it.

"Danny's mom isn't around, so it'll be just me on pick up and drop off duties. Possibly his aunt Robin but I'd let you know beforehand." A tight smile forms on his face.

"Oh I am so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed." You rush to apologize but you're quickly interrupted with the shake of his head.

"It's okay, you didn't know." He reassures and you visibly relax.

You're just as nervous as he is and he wonders if it's because you feel the same spark he does. Or maybe he's thinking too much into it. Either way, he'd like to think it's the latter.

"Well I'm very excited to teach Danny this year, he seems like a great kid." Although liking kids is part of your job, it sounds sincere coming out of your mouth and not rehearsed.

A coy smile breaks out on the older man's face, rose tint pours onto the rounded apples of his cheeks. "Y-yeah, he's a good kid. He can be shy sometimes but he loves to be around people."

Nodding your head, you sneak another peak behind you to check on the boy. "That's okay, I'm shy too."

When you turn to face Steve again, your lip is tucking behind your teeth. You're so fucking cute it makes him forget just how sad he was to drop off his own son and he doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing.

A long pause settles between the two of you, eyes becoming too bashful to meet. Steve kicks his foot at the hard floor, hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans.

"Well Steve, it was so nice to meet you but I have to get back in there." You sigh hiking a thumb over your shoulder.

Steve feels like someone just popped him like a balloon, the small amount of joy he's felt just by talking to you has now been taken away. Meeting you with a tight lipped smile, he nods understandingly.

After bidding your farewells, Steve thinks about you. He wishes he wasn't so awkward, that he had acted way cooler than he did, and how breathtaking your smile was when you spoke to him and his son.

On his drive home all he could think about was you and his son, ping ponging back and forth between the two. Steve wishes that he met you before today, maybe in the coffee shop on Main or in line at the grocery store. He wishes that he would be able to ask for your number and take you out without any consequences brought on by the school.

He doesn't know how he's going to last a full year with Danny in school and he's really not sure how he can manage to keep a professional conversation with you every morning without falling in love.

The low hum of Rod Stewart's "Rhythm of My Heart" plays through the car, the soundtrack to Steve's drive home.

Ah, the rhythm of my heart

Is beatin' like a drum

With the word's I love you

Rollin' off my tongue

"Fuuuuuuck," His voice drags out in the safety of his car, "I'm screwed."

Yeah, he was definitely screwed.

The ending feels rushed and it's not good but I hope you still enjoy! love you all :)

#steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem reader #honey's birthday bash #honey's holiday celebrations

536 notes · View notes

rendy-a · 9 months ago

Note

If your interested i would like to request a self aware au where the player instead of possesses Ramshackle instead of Yuu

My first thought is that I don’t understand this request. Possess the actual building of Ramshackle? Then I thought it might actually be funny if the Player were stuck in the building Encanto-style. Feel free to drop in a new request if this isn’t what you were looking for. Until then, enjoy this silly idea.

The Dorm Magical

All the characters in Twisted Wonderland had an innate sense for when they were being observed by the Player. It was a feeling so sublime that it was the only thing a character craved. One day, they stopped receiving that feeling as they did lessons, went about the storyline and even engaged in event stories. These were all the Player’s favorite times to grace them with their notice! It was deeply disturbing to them (could you have quit playing the game?) until they noticed that feeling again within the walls of Ramshackle Dorm. Now this unique dorm isn’t just the home to the odd students Grim and Yuu but also the only place left on campus to experience the notice of the Player.

Nothing matters anymore unless you can do it in Ramshackle or take it to Ramshackle. Riddle brings every perfect-scored test to casually hold up to the walls, hoping you’ll take notice. A suspicious number of movies being filmed by the Film Club seem to use old houses as a setting. If any odd floorboard squeaks or movements of doors happen, all the club members merely clap and declare that the Player is so good at ad-libbing.

Epel bursts into the lounge of Ramshackle and Grim nearly chokes on a bite of tuna. “Nya! What’s the big idea barging in here like that?” he asks between coughs. Epel holds up a spelldrive trophy enthusiastically, “We won the tournament!” Yuu smiles at him indulgently, “Great job.” Epel shoots him a puzzled look as though to say, ‘Why are you talking to me?’ Then he turns about the room, holding the trophy aloft until a beam of sunlight from a window seems to shift and hit the trophy perfectly. Epel grins as though the Player had personally awarded him that trophy. “Awe, shucks!” he beams while grinning like a fool. Then, he suddenly seems to recollect somewhere he needs to be. “I…I should probably get this trophy back now before Leona notices its missing. See you later Player!” He makes awkward eye contact with Grim, “and…I guess Yuu and Grim too…”

It’s not just students, so many classes seem to be held in Ramshackle dorm. The same students that used to try to sweet talk teachers into holding class outside on sunny days are now suggesting they can concentrate so much better in the quiet Ramshackle dorm. Staff are surprisingly fast to agree. There is now a sign-up sheet in the faculty lounge to reserve a Ramshackle day.

“Turn to page 101 in your textbooks. Today we are covering proper methods of distilling potions,” Crewel begins his lecture. A hand raises, “Professor, couldn’t we learn this better in Ramshackle?” Crewel lets out a long-suffering sigh, “There aren’t even potion making facilities in that dorm.” Another hand raises, “But Trein got to have history there twice this week already.” Crewel pauses for a moment considering that petty argument. “Screw it,” he finally replies in an arrogant tone, “Grab your things. We are moving this class to the kitchen of Ramshackle.” A cheer erupts from the masses.

Rules had to be made preventing transfer to Ramshackle. Crowly is very firm on this; if he can’t live there, no one else can either! The few times in the main story where people stay over are the highlight of those student’s year.

Vil slides his hand gently down the banister of the staircase as he descends and lets out a satisfied sigh. “Stop stroking my house,” Yuu retorts in an annoyed tone. “For the duration of the VDC training camp, it’s our house,” and continues to lightly run his fingertips along the wallpaper with a dreamy smile.

The guest room is the most coveted invitation on campus. Students would gladly jump over any number of couches and tables for the honor of being trapped in the corner of the Ramshackle guest room. Even Riddle is happy to cut class, dress up in his Halloween costume and stand idly by.

Deep in the corner of the room, Sebek stands on two small squares of open space. He paces a single step backwards and forwards. He’s been trapped there for at least an hour, yet he still sounds at the peak of happiness as he exclaims, “THIS DECORATION REMINDS ME OF THE THORN FAIRY HERSELF! WHAT A MAGNIFICENTLY APPOINTED ROOM!” The door blows open slightly in a breeze and Sebek preens as though receiving an approving wave from the great Player themselves. Ah, what a moment to be alive and trapped in a room.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #self aware au

164 notes · View notes

jolalibrary · 1 year ago

Text

viii. tomorrow I'll be gone, save tonight

javier peña x f!reader | chapter eight of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. fluff. falling in love. idiots in love. we're approaching the sadness ✨ wordcount: 3.4k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

It takes longer to get going the next day—mainly due to the number of times one of you begins pulling the other close.

A simple kiss here, a nuzzle there.

The morning ticking away as the two of you remain blissfully happy under hotel sheets. All undressed, sated and smiling.

Now, he’s basking in your laugh.

Laughing at him as he tries (poorly) to explain and rationalise his low score on Snakes. The game you had told him about to begin with.

Tears falling from the edges of your eyes as he tries to argue his case repeatedly. Your little wheeze making his heart clench with joy—your head shaking, hand cupping your mouth as each noise slips out.

“You’re clearly just not good with your fingers.”

He pinches you teasingly. “You know that’s not true.”

You're still smiling, your laugh fading as shyness begins to fall over your features. It starts with your eyes dropping to the bedsheets hiding both of your bare skin, and he waits for the feeble ‘stop’ that’s usually accompanied by a swat.

It never comes.

You lift your gaze back up instead, something twinkling, sparkling in your eyes. “Give it to me.”

“What?”

Gesturing for his phone, you take it, all devious smirk with a wiggle of your shoulders. Throwing his arm behind his head, sighing—all blissful and content—as he leans against the headboard before you begin shifting in the sheets. Watching as you begin moving so your bare skin is on show as you do so. Slowly, and teasingly, you begin positioning yourself between his legs, as he sits up so your back connects with his chest.

“Watch the master, okay?”

He smirks, snorting. But he still slides his hands around your waist, feeling you twitch from the first feel of it before you relax.

“So what’s the—“

“Shh,” you say, his lips sliding to your cheek, smelling the lingering scent of your perfume from dinner last night—and the two of you.

His eyes fix on the screen. Watching the digital serpent slide around the screen to the sound of your key clicks—each pixel-bit collected as the tail grows longer. Your movements are quick—far quicker than he can text, never mind play this—

“Wait, you can go through walls?”

“This one… this one you can,” you reply, words dropping off, concentration hanging on each syllable.

It’s odd to be in awe of someone in how they control a snake across a screen. But he is. The score racked up, far surpassing the one that took him an embarrassing amount of time.

Then, the screen flashes, your groan so cute—grunting out of you as you shake your head in annoyance.

“You should take this off me.”

“Competitive, are we?”

Smirking, you hand him the phone as he casts it to the side with relative ease. More focused on keeping you here, close, skin to skin.

“How am I even meant to beat that score?” His lips find the skin behind your ear.

“You’ll have to try real hard.”

“You’re devious.”

“I prefer menace.”

He’s about to agree, your mouth connecting with his—stealing them. Feeling the way you’re trying to punctuate something to him with your lips. Fingers brushing over his cheek, over the edge of the hair above his lip, before you slowly stop, lashes lifting to shower him in something which both shatters him and heals him all at once.

“I should shower. Alone.”

His mouth twists as he fights a smirk, all reluctant to let you leave this time. Like he had been the last time, his fingers softly holding your wrist, as you mumble about being quick, that if he was taking you out for the day, you wanted to not stink of sex.

Something he wouldn’t have complained about, personally. Until he remembers the scent of your body wash. The one which has been burying itself inside of him, a flurry of softness and sweetness that if he ever smells a single ingredient of it, he’ll think of you.

“I do wanna take you on all the dates, baby. So, go. Shower. Otherwise, I’ll never get the chance.”

You look over your shoulder, bent over your case. “All of them?”

“Need to cram in all I can until…”

His words fade as he feels himself lurch. The noticeable hole in his chest began to widen—the one first appearing when you fell asleep in his arms last night.

Now, though, he gets to watch your reaction too. A front-row seat to your bottom lip wobbling, eyes averting him—as though you’re splitting apart two.

He doesn’t think. He just moves. Javi's feet kick the sheets free as he walks over to you. “Yeah, let’s… let’s not talk about that.”

Burying his lips against yours to rid you of any remainders of it, as he positions your body back against him where he can. The wall greeting your back, his palm boxing you in until the two of you forget all about the impending deadline—and only about the now.

“Javi…”

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. You want a shower.”

Your fingers tap his chest lightly, forcing his head to lift, lips pressing a kiss to your hairline before turning.

Sighing, he runs his hand over his face—hearing the bathroom door close—as the sheets crinkle back beneath him, blending with the falling water coming from the room next to him.

He was happy.

Ridiculously so. It runs through him together with looser muscles and more relaxed nerves. It swims inside his chest and balloons his heart. Mainly, it sits in his cheeks—the ones slowly beginning to ache from how often he’s been sporting that grin only you can pull from him.

should I be worried about how long youre in the store for

The woman in front of me is returning her entire life and then using coupons to buy a new life. Kill me.

cant. unfortunately I would miss you

You’d replace with me ease. Have you seen your face?

can’t replace you hermosa but hurry up before I begin taking a bite out of each of the donuts

You wouldn’t dare.

Id dare because the glazed one looks good

“We could do nothing.”

It’s not that he hadn’t thought of (or planned) what the two of you could do together, he just hadn’t expected to burn through them all so quickly.

It didn’t help that it had been a while—too long—since he’d dated a person. Rarely ever making it past the first date. Most of them being dinner or coffee, or not even making it to either and finding himself getting what he needed without learning their surname.

Smirking, he runs his tongue across his teeth. “Nothing isn’t a date.”

“Not that way, we do nothing,” you retort, and he shakes his head as he grins. “We’ve done a restaurant, a museum, a picnic. We’ve done a lot.”

“We could go to the cinema?”

“But that means I can’t talk to you for over an hour.”

Javi smiles, hand running across his jaw. “Could make out at the back, though?”

Pulling a face, you sigh. “You drive a hard bargain, you do. But—”

“Fine, no movies. Another time?”

Grinning, you lean back in the booth of the diner, the one you’d requested—determined to make your way through the menu before you left.

Smiling, you sigh contently. “One day, we won’t even need to question it. It’ll be like a weekday date thing we do—once a month, on a Wednesday.”

“You thought about it?”

You hum, glancing back over the menu—brows knitting as you attempt to choose. “What?”

“Us. Dating.”

Your eyes flash up, all wide, full of panic. “Is that… I guess—I mean, like I know this isn’t conventional in the slightest and—and we haven’t, like, talked about it. I… I’m fucking up, aren’t I? Shit—“

“Fuck, hermosa. No. I mean… us going on dates, together. After this week—in one location, a setting a plan.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Swallowing, you shift in your spot. “Um. Yeah, I have. The location is foggy, naturally.”

“Naturally.”

Your eyes fall to the table, fingers tapping along the plastic as you do. “I—I know… well, because I know you have the ranch and your pop, Javi.”

He swallows, rolling his lips as you try to fake a smile.

“So, I know what that means. As I’m sure, you do.”

He doesn’t, not a single clue. His brain racks to find it—what it is that you mean—but you clear your throat, eviscerating any further attempt at a push for that information as you smile, significant—all beautiful and charming.

“What about bowling?”

“You’re a cheat.”

Coming up behind you, he spins you on the spot. Welcomed immediately by your grin, the one he’s been able to admire on your face for the last hour.

“Don’t be like that, Spare. You did well. Only 28 points behind.”

Shoving a finger at his chest, shaking your head, “You blindfolded me for one.”

“So, I could kiss you.”

Smirking, you slowly wrap your arms around his neck, his arms finding their place on your hips. A place they’ve come to know as home. “You were worried about me winning, weren’t you?”

“You were showing me up.”

“Bet if we went shooting, you’d beat me—Mr DEA,” you say, the latter all a whisper.

“You’d go shooting?”

“Oh, fuck no. I can barely be trusted at the fair to shoot those little tin cans off the stand—you should not, I repeat not, put a gun in my hand.”

Beaming, he draws shapes with his thumbs. “Alright, noted.”

Watching you from the corner of his eye as you grin, fidgeting with your jacket before you look up, and come to a stop. Something flashes across your face, glee—excitement—your head twisting to meet him.

Then your hand slides inside his, the other hand wrapping around his wrist. He doesn’t fight the way you pull him towards it. The little photobooth you’d eyed up in the bowling alley.

“Please?”

As if he could ever say no.

Your legs over his, bodies crammed in the small space as he slides the dollar in. Your face is full of glee, your body bursting with excitement.

I’ve always wanted to do one of these.

There’s no decision on poses, you pressing your cheek to his as you slap the button, and the two of you grin on command. FLASH. Then after, it’s a quick reposition of movements that the two of you both seem to understand as you both pull a silly face. FLASH.

The next, he’s sure time slows for. Javi’s head turning, eyes lingering on you as your laugh blossoms across your features. His heart thundering in his chest, hammering so loud and heavy as that familiar, wanted, feeling flares up inside of him.

It isn’t until the next flash does he realise how wide he’s smiling. Feels it in his cheeks, as the light illuminates the flecks in your eyes—the ones he wants to fall into and never leave.

Then, time resumes, you leaning in—hand on his cheek, nose tip to his: the almost kiss.

FLASH.

Neither of you move. The two of you hovering as the photos finishes, the machine whirring—

“Kiss me,” you whisper, lips ghosting over his.

And who is he to deny you? Javi would kiss you forever if he could, so he slants his mouth over yours, feeling that rush of warmth in his chest that he gets when he kisses you. When he gets to, your smile presses against him, his fingers sliding up your neck.

“You’re so handsome, Javi.”

He smiles, thumb brushing your cheek as the machine spits out the two copies. Your arm diving, body twisting from him as you do—taking them, handing him one.

But he doesn’t even stare down at his own copy. Javi just watches as you take in yours. How your eyes flick down each one, alternating smiles as you take them all in—lingering back up to the third.

Just like he is.

“We look good.”

You grin, swallowing. “We do.”

You married yet?

shut up murphy

Tell her I said hi.

Javier Peña had wished for a lot of things when he was in Colombia.

A lead. A break. To catch Escobar. To take down the cartel. To keep himself intact—to leave with his head held high.

Then he wished for nothing. No reason to, no hope or want that even allowed the thought of one to appear, never mind to request it.

Now all he was doing was wishing.

As each hour of your last day together ticks on, he longs for more. Prays for a phone call that tells you that you can stay—craves a justifiable reason to throw you in his truck and take you back with him.

There isn’t one.

Just a looming goodbye and a prickling pain that’s biting at the edges of happiness and adoration.

He’d wanted to take you for food, but you’d insisted on drinks. Finding your leg between his as you tell him about your friend moving for her new job, about your childhood and how you had a goldfish once.

In the last few days, the two of you had shared so much, that the missing pieces of who the other is began to fill. He’d told you bits about Colombia, his Mom, Laredo.

You’d told him about work, about the people you meet—the issues you have to sort. The things in your apartment, the things you do with Aish and the life you live.

But, the confession that gets to him, is spoken softer, dropped into conversation nervously—as though you’ve been worrying about speaking it:

I like all the things we’ve been doing, but I have missed doing the crossword with you.

It’s that declaration that makes him talk about why. Allows him share that he likes doing them with you too, having done them for something to do—no pressure after Colombia, just a puzzle that needed solving.

Javi isn’t stupid, he knows there’s a bigger reason as to why he likes doing them, and with you. Why they have fallen to the wayside as soon as he had you in his arms. It pulses in his chest and drums along his bones.

And then you take his hand, as though knowing it too. Clutching it tight, a thousand questions bubbling about Colombia, but are never spoken. Because you don’t ask, don’t push.

I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready.

Your words make his heart soar. Make the beer on the table fall over as he leans across to kiss you, to cup your cheeks and thank you with his tongue behind your teeth.

Now, he’s glancing over at you—watching you with your legs crossed, eyes shimmering from alcohol. You wrap cheese around your finger, licking it from your skin before taking a large bite.

“This pizza may be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

His mouth slides into a smirk, all about to make a comment when your eyes land on him.

“Second to you, of course.”

“You been around me a week, and look at the tongue you have on you.”

“Yeah, you’re a bad influence.”

Leaning back, he wipes his fingers on a napkin. “You mind?”

Shifting his weight on the floor, he watches as you chew—the back of your hand covering your mouth as your eyes roll, chewing more furiously. He shifts again, feeling something digging in, moving his hand to his back pocket of jeans, only to pull out a strip of photos.

The ones taken a day ago.

His fingers unfold them as he hears you clear your throat, reaching for your red cup filled with wine as his eyes land on the third one down. The one where you’re laughing, spotting how he’s looking at you—not sure if he ever remembers seeing that look on his face in any other photo or in the mirror.

“No, I—”

“Baby.”

He doesn’t mean to interrupt, but it's sitting on his chest again. Rising and falling like waves, and he’s tired of waiting for the storm to pass. Especially when he doesn’t want it to.

Javi wants it. You. Him. So much so, it’s close to erupting from him. The confession which has been sitting there, growing with each minute he spends with you until it thumps independently to his heart and feelings. A thing which has grown, expanded until it's now filling the space in him that he always imagined would be vast and empty.

“Javi…”

“I want those dates with you. Cinema ones, once a month.”

Watching as your mouth falls open, hand furiously wipes the pizza dust from your fingers onto a napkin as you turn on your hip to face him.

Clearing your throat, you sigh. “Me too. But, I know you have feelings on long distance, but—“

“Wait. What? What makes you say that?”

Shrugging, you avert your eyes, lips rolling together nervously. “You said the other day, about how you almost got married. Before the DEA. That you were glad. That the distance wouldn’t have worked, and it meant you could focus.”

His brow raises, waiting, wondering.

Thinking there’s more—there has to be. The pieces not fitting, until they slowly slide into view. Your words in the diner, I know what that means. As I’m sure you do.

“Baby, no—”

“Did I… Did I put two and two together?”

Taking your hand, pizza dust be damned, he sighs. “I… it was complicated. I just… I didn’t wanna marry her, but I didn’t want you to think I was an asshole for that. For leaving her, the way I did—I probably didn’t explain it well. But, it’s different with us. I want to make this work with you.”

His grip tightens on your hand, fingers lifting your chin so your eyes have nowhere else to look other than his.

“So, we don’t see one another every week. We’ll plan it—talk like we did before, and make sure we have phone dates.”

Nodding, he watches as your eyes fill with tears. Shimmering, making the flecks in your eyes stand out even more.

“You don’t think I’m too much?”

His eyes widen, face softening—realising he's doing it again, the puppy face (as you so eloquently called it a day ago).

“No. Not in the slightest. I told you—baby, I never think that. Haven’t once.”

You look surprised, but you swallow it—smiling instead. “It won’t be easy.”

And he wants to laugh. Because he knows that. He knows hard. He’s faced hard, run through and been smacked with hard.

This with you, it could never be described as that. It’s easy, like breathing or existing.

So he cups your cheek, seeing you visibly sobering under the conversation. “I think we can do it.”

It’s more a statement, than a question. Watching you think it over, all unreadable, anxiousness fluttering in his stomach.

“I know we can,” he adds. “Until one day…”

“One day,” you repeat, as though turning the words over on your tongue. “Are you… are you sure?”

Looping his fingers around your neck, he presses his forehead to yours. Intimate, close—romantic. “Of course, baby. I want this—you, us. Do… Do you?”

A tear falls, skidding down the apple of your cheek as you smile. “Of course. I… I may have cried in the shower this morning… because I didn’t want to say goodbye.”

He sighs, light—shifting the weight which had been resting on him and closing the hole in his chest. Pressing his lips to your forehead, thumb and fingers stroking your cheek.

“I can’t let you go, baby,” he whispers, resting his lips against your forehead.

His ears hear the faint sound of me, either, before your fingers wrap around his wrist, forcing his head to move back before your lips burn the reply against his.

Over, and over, again.

It begins tender, warm—tinged with other words he’s not sure he’s meant to hear—before it moves to something that burns. Your touch is like flames, leaving marks against him he never wants to vanish or be rid of. It grows messy, his tongue licking into your mouth as the pizza lays forgotten as you move into his lap.

Thighs on either side, fingers in his hair as he grabs your waist tight, pinning you close, until he makes you stand.

Then the bed is dipping, the sheets crinkling, and he has you close to him. His name falls from your lips as he whispers yours, the two names merging together—blending, just as the two of you are. His fingers spanning your hip, keeping you flush with him, nails in his hair.

Then he hears it, breathy and right up against his ear.

Mine.

His head pulls back, eyes staring into yours. “Todo mío.”

if you haven't already, please check out this gorgeous piece that was gifted to me by @ghostaholics 🩵 for this reason, this chapter, the many dates and the way they're falling, is dedicated all to you, G.

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction

627 notes · View notes