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credince--writes · 2 years ago

Text

Hands (1)

God, you dream of those hands.

Original Prompt:

Size Kink & Breeding Kink with Konig.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - AO3

Konig x Fem! Reader

(A/N): I accidentally fuckin deleted the original post while trying to add links to the other 2 chapters, so reposting LMAO. I'M SO SAD BC IT WAS ONE OF MY BEST PREFORMING POSTS.

Honestly? It started in a very innocent way.

"I'm taking off your gloves."

He sat in front of you, tapping his foot on the cold tile. Currently under the attention of you from the intended use of his hands in combat.

Which is why you were inspecting for broken knuckles.

Most of his gear had been taken off, set aside along with the hood that donned his head on missions. Now, you were pulling the gloved that clung to the asking of his hands off. Inspecting the pale skin beneath them.

"You know, I'm starting to think you do dumb shit like this on purpose." You glance up at him.

"I'd never." He replied.

"Because I'm lookin' at these hands, and I'm seeing a whole lot of unnecessary bruising."

"It was necessary."

You quirked a brow.

"You just, happen to lose your gun there soldier?" You pulled back, leaning back against your seat and shooting him an amused glance.

"Sometimes, things are better done by hand."

"mmhm." You mumbled.

Eyes trailed up his hands, finding stray scars and following the veins leading up to his forearms.

Man,

those were some big hands.

"Is everything alright, doctor?" He asks, amusement twirling around in his eyes, sparking out in his voice.

Maybe he was catching on to your oogling.

"Just making sure nothing broken. Can't imagine it would be fun to work with broken fingers."

"Nein."

"This hurt?" You ask.

"Nein."

"Then you're fine. I'll give you some meds and send you off on your way."

"Danke!" He shot up, clamping a hand down on your shoulder, man near enveloping your entire left side.

You started to imagine what it would be like if that big hand wrapped around your neck.

"Be careful, please."

"Of course." He shot a sideways, toothy grin. The side that his nose crooked over to and the side with the one crooked canine that made him look like a dog ready to chase a bone.

He turned, starting to walk away.

"You know, König." You stated. He stopped a turned around. "If you want to visit me, you don't need to have an injury."

His eyebrows raised, and you could swear there was a blush that tinted his cheeks. "I'll consider that for next time."

Before turning and leaving.

And he did visit you.

One visit turned into two.

Then four.

Then he just popped in so often while he was not on a mission he became part of your routine.

Have a cup of coffee with König in the morning, maybe even join him for dinner and enjoy it in the sanctity of your quiet and private office.

Just so happened that the longer you spent with him the more your thoughts were clouded.

His hands,

his thighs,

fuck, you can't even imagine how big his cock would be.

You'd like to think you were better than this.

Pressed up in your shower thinking about the huge man, wondering what his bare chest would feel like curling up over your back.

You closed your eyes, trying to picture just how good it would feel.

It would be right after he comes back from a mission, the dark look in his eyes still clouding his consciousness as he's still in the mindset of a soldier, a killer.

His steps would be heavier- you'd hear him walk into the bathroom, the rustling of clothing as he strips the cloth covering his flesh discarded down to the ground without a second thought.

He'd slip into the shower, with your head placed under the stream of hot water. Almost comically so, his head would be unable to reach the stream of water without immensely bending at the knees.

You'd hum, leaning back into him as he'd reach his arm around your waist, pulling your wet body closer to his. Head dropping down for his mouth to latch onto the nape of your neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin.

Gasping throwing your head back farther and allowing it to bump against his shoulder, letting out a light whine that he'd love to harvest from your throat.

One hand would drift down, widening his palm as it flattened and slid down your tummy, nearly covering the expanse of your abdomen before it dipped down, lower.

His other hand would grab your chin, pulling your head back to meet into a feverish kiss. Pressing your back up against the cold wall of the shower, holding it up against it.

On a normal occasion, you'd be terrified to slip, but you just know with his arm slinked around over you waist toying dangerously close to your cunt that there was no chance of slipping.

No chance of him letting you go.

A digit would brush up through your folds collecting the slippery production of your arousal, dragging his finger ever so carefully up until it traced around your clit. Circling it, dangerously so.

Applying pressure as the rough pad of his finger pushed against your clit, mouth devouring any noises you let out.

It hurt, in a way.

One that was so delicious you only wanted more.

His large finger pressing down on your clit felt heavenly, the feeling of his tongue pushing against yours as you swapped spit in the most degenerating fashion.

Your hips unconsciously pushed forward against his hand, bucking as he pressed you firmly against the wall.

He'd tsk, giving you a light scolding before removing his mouth from yours completely, allowing a thin strand of spit to cast its way from him lips to yours.

God.

You could just die.

He'd snicker, that snicker that made his lip quirk upward revealing his crooked tooth. All before he'd lean in and ask,

"What do you want me to do, Schatz?"

"Fuckkkk." You'd whine, letting your head bump against the shower wall. "Please." You'd whisper out.

"Hm?" He'd ask, still toying his finger around your clit.

"Finger me- fuck, please. Please finger me."

His finger would leave your clit, diving back down and just barely poking into your entrance.

The digit was long and thick- it felt like nearly two of your own being stuffed inside you. Even more so as the single digit could curl up in such a delectable manner pressing up against the spongey roof of your core.

You'd breathe harshly, ducking your head up against his neck and arm gripping at the expanse of his back and nails digging into the pale and freckled flesh.

He'd add a second digit, and you felt like you were on cloud nine.

No,

You felt like you were on cloud nine as he removed his free hand from you, bringing it down and rubbing on your clit as his other hand pumped mechanically in and out of you, curling his fingers forward and circling the pad of his finger against your clit.

It would feel like your legs would give out first, but he'd keep you upright as you came, his mouth would latch onto yours. Shoving his tongue into your mouth claiming you in the best way possible.

Body draped over yours, his large hands pleasing you to the point of competition-

Blinking, you realized there was no man draped behind you.

The water in the shower had run cold a long time ago, but the pleasant buzz in your head from your shameful masturbation numbed any embarrassment for a few moments.

You sighed, turning off the water and glancing down at your fingers.

For now? Thinking of his large hands would have to do.

#könig x reader #könig x you #mwii #call of duty mw2 #Konig x reader #konig x reader smut #konig imagine #Konig x Reader- Hands

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hotchstead · 6 months ago

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Hiii!! Can I request chasexreader where reader is super sick and he takes care of her and is very attentive (maybe a tad bit annoying) but also very fluffy? Thank you!!💗

Overbearing - R. C.

Robert Chase x fem!reader warnings: sick reader, overbearing boyfriend chase, that's it really? word count: NDA (half wrote here) a/n: sorry it's short but I'm just starting to get back into writing these things <3

Being sick wasn’t ideal. It never will be. The second a doctor hands you that note and you’re out for the week it seems like a blessing. A chance to relax. But no. not when your boyfriend was also a doctor and made it his god given goal in life to make sure you didn’t stress yourself out. At all.

Chase was that boyfriend. The second he realized the small cough wasn’t going away, he did the tests that concluded bronchitis. He set up the medicine to be put aside for you. The steroids and cough medicine that would work together to heal you.

He made you breakfast, lunch and dinner because “As much as you feel like crap, you have to keep eating.” The words he said every single time you tried to brush off eating. And so you suffered through at least half of a meal before he was satisfied with your portion.

Yes, it was partially endearing. He cared, he loved you. That much was true. You’d been together going on three years now, of course he was going to care. But still, it was becoming a bit much.

The man wouldn’t even let you out of bed if he thought it was going to end badly for you. “Baby, I promise you, I will survive sitting out of bed.” You pleaded, sucking on a cherry flavored cough drop that didn’t do much for your mouth other than make your teeth feel funny and maybe slightly keep your cough away.

Barely.

Chase shook his head, sitting on the edge of said bed, reaching over and stroking your hair. “I believe that, but laying down and relaxing, resting is the best thing for you. It doesn’t bother your throat and the lozenges can only do so much to help.”

You groaned, nodding, “I’m aware, but i just want to sit on the couch. Drink tea even. I’m just tired of sitting here." You pouted and how was he supposed to keep denying you anything when you looked at him the way you did?

"Okay, alright, just stop killing me with your stupid puppy dog eyes." He huffed in defeat as he stood. "I'll find some tea for you if you want to fresh up a little, I know you've been wanting to do that."

He was right. Your face was starting to get the level of greasy that it was killing you to even feel it and your hair hadn't been touched since day one. How he even wanted to be near you right now was insane to you.

But the second he disappeared, you pulled yourself up and out of bed, to the bathroom to wash your face, brush through your hair and make note to wash it before the two of you went to bed tonight.

You crunched the last little bit of the cough drop in your mouth, the feeling of your tongue making you pull your toothbrush out. It was time for a new one anyway so who cares if this one got contaminated?

Once all set, cough and all, you headed back out to the living room, happy to be able to sit and watch something on the big screen rather than the smaller one that you had in your room. (Chase refused to upgrade.)

"Gorgeous." Chase commented as you sat, water boiling just to the right in the kitchen.

Even at your worst he managed to want to compliment you and it made you shake your head. "I look like crap," A cough cut off your statement, "You don't have to lie.

He scoffed as he shook his head, "I'm not. You're always so completely beautiful."

"Bronchitis and all?" You asked skeptically.

"Bronchitis and all." He echoed with a nod, "Now get comfortable, I picked Lady and the Tramp cause I know it's one of your favorites." The words coming out so smoothly, so easily.

No matter how much time you spent together it still surprised you how well he just, knew you. And you adored it. So you settled down, him taking the spot next to you not too long after and putting an arm over your shoulder.

You went to brush it off, worried that he'd get sick in return but he shook his head. "You're not contagious. I'll be alright. Just let me hold you." He said softly, sweetly even.

And that alone let you know that no matter how much his doctoring annoyed you, you loved him and the day you married him would be the best day of your life.

JOIN CHASE'S TAGLIST HERE!

TAGS: @morketheduck @nerdypyrowolf @simonejacpbsen @thewayilovedjay @julianna050 @Idontknowwhatnamelol @alexxavicry

#robert chase #house md #Robert chase oneshot #Robert chase one shot #Robert chase writing #Robert chase house Md #hate crimes md #house #teddy writes house md #teddy writes Robert chase #dr. Chase

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sports-on-sundays · 1 year ago

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omgg i'm so relievedd,😭😭 anyway here's the request

can you please do an enemies to lovers with pedri wherein the reader is frenkie's sister and pedri and her have beef with eachother and fight like cats and dogs all the time but pedri is lowkey in love with her and sneakily keeps dropping hints but the reader is too oblivious to notice them, then gavi, sick of their banter tries to get them together by pretending to be interested in the reader and pedri get's furious with gavi cuz he's in love with the reader?

anyway i hope you're doing well, sending you lot's and lot's of lovee 💗💗

she's mine / Pedri González

Summary: Pedri x de Jong!female!reader - Enemies to lovers - Pedri can't help but feel more than hate towards his enemy. And he won't stand for it when it seems her attention is being given to anyone else but himself.

Warnings: censored swearing, reader is SO oblivious haha, I'M SO SORRY FOR THE CHEESY ENDING BUT IT FELT SO RIGHT OKAY, her being Frenkie's sister didn't end up becoming a part of the plot so sorry if you wanted it to be anon

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the request, and I hope you're doing well also. :)

Requested?: yup!

A gust of warm wind blows your hair in your face as you enter the Barcelona training pitch. You tuck it behind your ear as your eyes scan the green field, searching for someone.

You tell yourself you're looking for your brother, Frenkie, but your eyes only stop searching when they fall on Pedri. He's sitting on one of the coolers, talking with Robert Lewandowski and Sergi Roberto. You smirk and saunter over, slipping down to sit on the cooler next to him. "Hey. Why aren't you out there playing, Pedri?" you say with a condescending smile.

His head snaps over to look at you, and his jaw visibly clenches as he demands, "Where did you come from? You weren't there a second a-"

"Maybe you just weren't paying attention, idiot. I didn't know you were that unaware of your surroundings..."

"Would you stop?" he snarls, gently shoving you. "Why are you always here, anyway? Do you think you have rights to walk right on in just because you're Frenkie's sister?"

You shrug cockily. "Pretty much. Everyone loves me, including Xavi. You're the only idiot that doesn't."

At this, Sergi (mysteriously) gets up and says, "I'll leave you two to fight this one out."

Robert nods and follows close behind, calling over his shoulder, "Don't be too aggressive with each other now!" You hear a snicker in the more experienced player's voice, which only fuels you more to bug Pedri.

"You aren't being too aggressive," you turn back to Pedri. "What kind of weak shove was that, anyway?"

"I just didn't shove you any harder because you're delicate and weak." He glanced up, meeting your eyes as he added, "Shame you've got no boyfriend to take care of your damsel self."

"Oh, for f***'s sake! Shut up- you know you're pulling crap out of thin air now!"

"That's what you do every single argument we have," Pedri comments with an eye roll. He bends down to tie his shoe, but then looks up, meeting your eyes again in that annoying way, and says, "Wait, you have a boyfriend?!"

"Don't say it like that!" you snap. "I don't, but I don't need one. I'm just fine without a stupid man to boss me around!"

He snorts and comments softly as he stands up, "I wouldn't say I'm stupid, and I certainly wouldn't boss you around..."

"Huph! Yeah, right!" you snap, the intention of his statements blowing straight over your head. "I bet you'd be the worst of them all! My God, no woman deserves an ass like you! Sure hope you never get a girlfriend- any would be too good for you."

"So sharp with your comebacks!" Pedri looks back. "But you use the same ones every time. You're so predictab-"

"Hey, Pedri."

Both of you look up to see Gavi sauntering over to the two of you. He pulls a water bottle from the cooler Pedri just stood up from and tells him, "Quit all the chit-chatting, for God's sake. Break time is done for you, Pedri."

"Yeah!" you grin, calling after him as he sulks away, "Lazy!"

Some days later, you walk down the hallway of the training centre. You're waiting for Frenkie, since you're going with him to visit with him and Mikky and some friends after training, when suddenly your nerves are hit simply by a familiar voice calling behind you, "Hey, Y/n..."

You swivel around to meet the obnoxious brown eyes of none other than Pedri. Your jaw clenches, but you're always ready to pick a fight with him- especially if he's up for it.

There's a flash of emotion in his eyes, and all the sudden he goes from walking toward you to being right in front of you. Your back hits the wall it's facing, and you gasp as the scent of his cologne fills your nose. You open your eyes slowly to see only Pedri's eyes. You exhale slowly. He's got you here, with his hands leaning on the wall behind you. You can't read him- you can't tell if he's about to slap you in the face or playfully tease you. All you know is that your nose is about six centimeters from the face of your rival, whom you've hated on a countless number of times.

"What the hell?" you snap. "What's your problem?"

"You know what you did!" he snaps right back, his eyes flashing again.

"What did I do?" you ask innocently as you replay all the rude comments about him and obnoxious tricks played on him.

"You know!" he says, jabbing his elbow into your shoulder- not enough to hurt, so you don't bother with him. He's a coward. He never really hurts you.

You smirk, eyebrows raised, and say, "Was it the chewing gum in your football boot or the 'Kick Me' sign on you last away game?"

"It was the gum-! Wait, 'Kick Me' sign?!"

At this, you break into hysterical laughing at his frightened face. You laugh and laugh, until you finally get out, "You take yourself so seriously, and that's why I know stupid pranks like this really will work in getting under your skin!"

"Tell about the 'Kick Me' sign!" He actually looks quite nervous.

"I managed to give you a 'friendly' pat on the back before you walked the red carpet to the hotel. All the away fans saw. I guess after getting a high-five from their hero, Pedri, they saw he would've rather been kicked in the ass!"

"Wait, it was on my ass?" His eyes widen, and you laugh more, practically wheezing now as Mr. Tough Man is getting dethroned- again. By you, as always.

"No! Lower back, idiot. I guess someone must have taken if off of you before you noticed, and didn't tell you because your pride is so delicate..."

"...Is not!" Pedri snapped, shoving you softly again. "Anyway, the f***ing gum on my expens-"

But you interrupt, showing you really couldn't care less. "Why don't you shove me harder, huh? Weak."

His face twists. "If I did, you might fall over. Clumsy."

"Oh, yeah? Am I? Am I clumsy, or are you just too scared to hurt a woman? Well, I'm not too scared to hurt a man, and I'm also not slamming men into walls to assert my dominance!"

Pedri gapes a little, which feeds your mean-spirited ways.

You grin, and suddenly shove him away. He stumbles back, and reaches back to steady himself on the opposite wall of the hallway.

"Alright, I've f***ing had it with you!" he barks, reaching for you. But you grab his wrist, twisting it. He, with his other hand, clutches the collar of your shirt, and you raise your fist, about to hurl it at his-

Suddenly, another hand grips your wrist, mid air.

Both your's and Pedri's heads flip to the new presence and rest your eyes on the younger Gavi.

Pedri's hand slips off your collar in unison with your hand slipping off his wrist.

Gavi sighs and walks past, in the middle of the two of you, calling behind, "You two, always fighting like cats and dogs! Won't you ever leave each other be? It's starting to get out of hand, with you two wrestling in the halls, and all."

You watch awkwardly as Gavi walks away, both feeling called out at how foolish you were acting.

You sit next to Gavi, swiveling back and forth on a bar stool, in a club. You sip your drink, looking down, because of the slight headache you're starting to obtain from the flashing lights around you, when suddenly someone sits on the other side of you. You look up, seeing that it's none other than Pedri. Again. Now you sit between Gavi and Pedri, and ask obnoxiously to Pedri, "Why are you here?"

He smirks, his eyes glimmering in the flashing lights. "I was here all along. But I could be asking you the same thing, baby."

You snort as Gavi looks over with unimpressed raised eyebrows at Pedri.. "Baby? Your insults are getting worse and worse every day," you remark back snidely, taking the name in a completely different way than most people- including Gavi- probably would.

Who knows how Pedri meant it?

Pedri falters for just a moment, and a strange look of slight confusion and maybe... disappointment?... flashes across his face, before he blinks away the dazed look and replaces it with that stupid smirk again. "You're a stupid baby because I don't think you can handle..." He gently takes your glass from your hand, and it's so sudden, you just watch him do it. "...that."

You glare. "What the hell, Pedri?" you snap. "I'm not anywhere near drunk! Give that back!"

He lifts the quarter full glass above his head, but leans his face close to yours and mutters, just loud enough for you to hear over the blasting party music, "Make me."

You glare more fiercely and snarl, "You know full well I'm capable of beating your ass! Now give me the glass!"

His grin just grows wider, and it annoys you that, for whatever twisted reasons, he's genuinely having fun. Enjoying himself. When you tease him or play pranks on him, you guess you have some fun, but it's mostly just about going out of your way to make his life harder because he's annoying. But he's genuinely having fun right now. Anyone could see that much.

The nerve!

You grab at Pedri, trying to wrestle the drink down, but fail, and just end up stumbling into him. He laughs and very gently elbows you, saying, "Be careful, baby. You've got no prince to catch you if you fall..."

"I don't even get your jokes anymore!" You say in frustrated annoyance. You grit your teeth and double back, ready to ram yourself to his stomach, but suddenly stop yourself when two hands grip your shoulders, and a body slips in between your's and Pedri's. "Gavi!" you say in exasperation. "Stop doing that!"

"You guys stop doing this! These arguments are getting out of hand, for God's sake!"

Pedri sighs, setting your glass down, but says, "It's really none of your business, Gav-"

"It is when you constantly do this with me and every-f***ing-one else around! It becomes our business!" He sighs witha little grunt, sitting back down. You swipe your drink off the table and sit back down next to Gavi, saying, "I'm sorry, Gavi... You see, Pedri's just so stupid..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Gavi rolls his eyes.

And little to either Pedri or you know, but the gears in Gavi's brain start spinning.

You sit on the bleachers, typing something up, enjoying the sunshine, when you hear footsteps. You sigh, knowing it will be Pedri approaching, but refuse to look up.

So you're surprised when Gavi says, "Hey, Y/n."

You look up and watch as Gavi sits close next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders. You don't think much of this, and don't mind that Gavi sits with you for a while, just chatting about whatever. He speaks softly, making the conversation personal. You respond in your regular tones, because why would you do anything different?

For weeks after this incident, Gavi keeps doing things like this, and, strangely, you've realized Pedri's been bothering you less. And you've been bothering him less.

But he keeps sending you the most venomous glances, it's almost worse than his occasional antagonizing.

Gavi's been getting kind of touchy with you, and you're not sure why, but you assume it's just because... you don't know. But you figure there must be a good, normal reason for it.

So you don't mind it. You enjoy your talks.

Today, you sit on the grass next to Gavi. You can't tell if it's just in your head, but you keep catching Pedri's eyes. And he doesn't look happy.

Well, Gavi's sitting quite close to you, so your shoulders are bumping, and has an arm around you, gently touching your lower back. You watch as Pedri starts walking towards you, and automatically a soft sigh escapes your lips.

Right then, Gavi gently slips his hand onto your thigh.

Automatically, your muscles clench, but you don't even look at Gavi.

Because you're watching Pedri.

He looks livid.

You swallow, and glance to Gavi, but as soon as you do, Pedri reaches him, knocks his hand off your thigh, doesn't even glance to you, and says directly to Gavi, "Come with me."

His tone is hard and cold.

Gavi stands up a little too casually (which seems to just feed Pedri's anger even more) and follows Pedri without a fight.

You stare, watching them go, in kind of a shock.

Once they're gone, you give it a minute or so, before standing up and immediately following. Snooping and eavesdropping are not below you. Can't hurt a girl for being curious, right? Besides, you've become pretty good at not getting caught.

You slowly walk down the stairs into the building, light on your feet, and peek behind every corner, listen through every door.

Finally you freeze when you hear voices, coming from behind a closed door. You lean against the wall slowly, intently listening, and grin softly when you can make out the sentences, before your face becomes serious again.

Gavi is saying, "...you've been the nicest person to her anyway!"

Pedri growls (which makes you swallow nervously), "But it's like you're taking her... She doesn't even like you... I saw the look on her face... Get your hands off of her, anyway... She's mine."

Your eyes furrow in confusion. Clearly he's talking about you, but what does this all mean...? Whatever it does, it certainly makes you feel a little angry, along with the utter uncertainty.

"Yeah? Why haven't you gone for it, then? Shoot your shot? You've just been being rude to her to get her attention without even showing how you really feel- I went about it in the-"

"She doesn't like you!"

"Yeah? Prove it?" Gavi says, just as fiery as Pedri himself, but it sounds a little different. You can't place your finger on what's different about Gavi's tone, though, from Pedri's...

There's a few seconds of silence, before a huff and a smaller comment from Pedri: "But I bet I like her more than you."

"Then prove it. I don't believe you."

"How the hell-"

"Whoever pulls her first."

You stare ahead, eyebrows knitted together.

And suddenly it clicks in your brain that was so opposed to believing anything even close to that, and it all makes sense.

All the stupid comments from him.

This conversation itself.

His dumb nicknames.

Has Pedri really... felt that way... all along?

Then why has he been acting like that?

There's silence between the boys, too, as you consider these things.

And, suddenly, you hear the doorknob turn, and your stomach drops to your knees. You try to swallow down a lump in your throat, looking for anywhere you can go to hide so that they don't see y-

"Y/n-!" Pedri stares at you, frozen.

Oh God. What... What is he going to do? Pick a fight, walk away? Lash out on me or Gavi? Pretend nothing happened?

He whispers, "You heard all that..."

You don't respond. And you're not sure if you could, even if you tried to, anyway.

But he does the most unlikely thing. The thing you weren't ever expecting.

Maybe someone else would. Maybe your brain just doesn't work that way.

But suddenly he pulls you to him, in a half-hug kind of thing, his muscles soft, and whispers, "I'm sorry, but... Maybe this will convince you to give me a shot..."

Suddenly, before you can react, he pulls you into a steamy kiss. You gasp, shocked, and although you don't want it to be happening, you don't want it to stop. You stare ahead, but slowly find the strength to close your eyes.

He pulls away and mutters, "Anyway, let me explain now..."

But suddenly Gavi walks by, casually, a smug look on his face, and he says, "I would have done it differently, but with someone like Y/n, you never know, Pedri... I mean it's funny you two are so immature about the way you're going about this, when I'm younger than both of you."

"You-"

Gavi glances back and interrupts, "Oh, and by the way, it was all a show. I'm not really into Y/n, and I know she's not really into me. It was just to make you jealous. You know, so maybe you'd finally admit your damn feelings and quit bothering her so much. Looks like you still haven't done it though. I've leave you two to that."

Pedri starts gaping as Gavi saunters away, and you stand just as shocked, but for more things than what Pedri's shocked about.

"For God's sake, Gavi," Pedri mutters under his breath, turning back to you. "Well, anyway," he breathes. "I've got a lot to explain... And say sorry for."

"Why were you..." you trail off.

He snorts. "I thought you'd be into that. I thought you'd like that sort of attention."

"I might've..." you chuckle nervously. "If I understood what you were doing in the moment..."

All the sudden, those glimmering brown eyes look deeper than they did before. More complex. Interesting. Beautiful.

Captivating.

Perhaps even... enchanting?

You swallow, and find yourself gripping to his shoulders tighter- which you didn't even know you were holding onto until now.

Now he mutters, but it doesn't seem mean.

You would say it was sexy, if that didn't mean you'd be calling him sexy.

"I've got a lot of work before I can call you mine..." he swallows. Usually a comment like this would disgust you.

But the way he just kissed you makes you not dread, but anticipate (just very, very, very slightly) eagerly all that work he needs to do in order to call you his.

Well, in other words, that set off butterflies in your stomach you didn't even know existed.

And now he whispers, "Sorry if it's too soon, but... Can I kiss you again?"

You grin stupidly and remark, "Only if you're not a coward."

He leans in, and his lips meet yours once again.

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ki-irke · 2 years ago

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Julie and the phantoms

Reader x luke Patterson

Reader is Luke’s girlfriend in the 90’s and was with them when he past away and years later when he’s a ghost he goes to vist her and she can see him

Love

Paring: Luke Patterson x reader

Summary: Luke goes to see his love for the first time after he past away, and it may be the last, but he doesn't expect them to stay together for much longer.

A/N: Ik it's not probably what you had in mind, it was a fun one and too cute to not make!

Words: 613

"I'm going to see y/n," Luke said, looking at Alex.

"You sure? She could have family now, you know?" He asked, raising his eyebrows and carefully watching the brown-haired boy.

"Yeah. I just want to see her when I get the chance."

"Okay," Alex said, nodding his head. But Luke stayed for the next few hours. The thought of you being happy with someone else who wasn't him broke his heart. But he knows that this may be the last time he sees you.

So, while Julie was at school and Alex and Reggie were busy with each other, Luke teleported to where your house used to be.

The house still looked the same. The black fence was overgrown with some kind of ivy, which made it difficult to see the yard. Luke walked forward, putting his feet on the slices of wood that formed the path to the big, white house. He had always thought this place was magical, and seeing it still look the same after all these years made him believe it more. When he was about to walk into the house, the door opened. A tall, dark-haired man with a dog on a leash came out. Lukes' heart stopped for a second. Is this your boyfriend? Or even husband? After the man came a smiling woman. SHe leaned against the doorframe. The man turned around to send her a kiss and walked out of the yard. Before the woman could step back into the house, Luke invited himself inside.

Inside, there were small changes to a more modern one, but it still looked the same. The brown-haired boy eyed the woman carefully, who was now pulling a lighter out of a drawer. She was looking almost like the young you. He gave up looking around the house and simply followed the woman upstairs. The woman was like you. But something about her was different. Maybe it's the age, Luke thought. The women looked at white doors with pastel hearts on them. You didn't remove it after all these years? The woman took a deep breath and went inside.The first thing that caught Luke's attention was the large number of photos, candles, and flowers. What was happening?

"I'm sorry, y/n, that I couldn't save you," the woman said, tears streaming down her face. "All of this is my fault. Mum was right," she added, lighting every candle. Luke didn't know what was happening. You couldn't be dead. I mean, if you would, he could meet you. But who was the woman? Because it surely wasn't your mom. Maybe it's about your daughter?

And then the young girl walked slowly past him.

He didn't see her. But he immediately knew that it was you. You sat beside the woman, putting your head on her shoulder. But the woman continued crying.

"Y/N, if you're listening to me, I'm sorry." you blew out one of the candles near your family photo, which made the woman smile through her tears.

"It's okay, y/s/n. I wanted to protect you," you said, standing up but holding a hand on the woman's head. "She does this every time she's alone," you said softly, turning around to face Luke. It wasn't something funny, but it made him smile.

"Why are you smiling?" you laughed, moving closer to him.

"I thought you were still alive. That you have a new family," he said, but his smile soon dropped. "Did you–?" he asked, but you didn't let him finish.

"God, no. It was an accident, but it's a long story," Luke chuckled, hugging you.

"Well, we have plenty of time, love," he answered, lowering his head to kiss you slowly.

#julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #julie and the phantoms imagines

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ph4ngz · 2 years ago

Note

Hey! Since the episode Chigiri calls Isagi attaboy I've been down bad. Hoping I could get something of Chigiri making reader ride his thighs before he fucks them fast as a reward with yk, a mix of attagirl and maybe a little degradation. I'm such a whore for this man istg

Oh, Anon. I've been a whore for this man since the very moment I saw him. Welcome to the club! Hope this was good enough! :D

"Hurry up, I wanna see this." Chigiri tells you with a sinister smirk, arms stretched out to beckon your naked body over to the armchair he's sprawled out on. His toned, strong legs are bouncing with anticipation as you saunter forward at a pace so tantalisingly slow, hesitance flickering within your irises once you're finally straddling one of them. Even as you carefully lower into the awaiting warmth of his lap the expectant movements do not seize, your pretty figure jumping along on top of his clothed thigh. Your untouched clit is lightly dragging over the clean denim of his skinny black jeans, your hands are fisting at the basic sweater he's wearing whilst your features twitch at the slightest hint of stimulation.

"Don't you wanna make me feel nice? Y'don't love me anymore?" his wet lips curl into a childish pout, "come on, harder~" his hushed, cocky beg taunts you, causing your head to drop in an attempt to conceal your flustered expression. God, you feel so exposed! Such lewd words aren't helping, and he refuses to even lay a finger upon your bare skin, which makes it worse tenfold!

"Can't you just..." you pause before lifting your head to face your boyfriend again, the most dangerously adorable puppy dog eyes aimed straight for the bullseye of his heart, "put it inside now?"

Chigiri's eyelids have drooped a little more since you began speaking, long lashes slowly blinking away the lusty blur obscuring his vision each time he looks in your direction. An amused grin tugs at the corners of his kissable lips that are coated in your saliva, sharp canines glinting. It's rather cute when you talk like that, how you hang on to your modesty despite your lack of clothing, despite your position, despite your obvious peeking at the growing bulge between the two of you.

"Woah, I didn't make you out to be such a slut but here we are—" The redhead playfully retorts, scratching the nape of his neck to feign awkwardness until you interrupt with a frustrated tch.

"Fine, Hyoma. Ha-v-ve it your way." you give in with an innocent eyeroll and station a steady grip upon your boyfriend's shoulders, lips quivering when you (begrudgingly) start to grind down on him. Chigiri sighs through his nose, satisfied with your compliance.

"Theeeere we go," he purrs, gladly slinking back into the comfortable armchair, "atta girl."

His slender fingers are so cold when they dance across the warm skin of your hips, flittering up and down. His horny little whimpers, god, they make you feel hot. "Mmn-! Mmmh..." his chest vibrates with every sound he lets escape from the back of his throat. He's loving how heavy your breathing becomes when he suddenly pushes you down by your sides, pulling you harder against him mid-movement.

"Nngh— hah~" you whine as both of your heads knock together lightly, quickened breath intermingling in the small space between your mouths. Then, you hear him sigh again.

"Hhhhhh, these are my favourite pair too. D'ya have to be so messy...?" he asks exasperatingly, and you feel like a vein is about to burst on the side of your head.

"Gah—? You begged me to do this, so-" immediately, you whip your head up with an irritated response, only to be met with his delighted smirk. "Grr...!" you growl inwardly as you drop your head again, swirling your hips with more force before he abruptly squeezes them to still you. A sweet, startled noise leaves you and then, silence.

Chigiri leans in to hover his lips over your ear.

"I get a certain kinda kick outta seeing you get so frustrated with me..." his tongue traces down the shell of your ear, making you shiver. "You know, if you go a little faster," the redhead pauses to lower his voice to a barely audible whisper.

"I'll up the pace even more when I'm fucking your brains out later, yeah?" he smacks your ass with both hands to get you moving again, "alright."

|| || || ||

#chigiri smut #chigiri hyoma #hyoma chigiri #blue lock #bllk smut #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #bllk headcanons #bllk x y/n

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gracefulsunflower · 6 months ago

Text

ANGEL - SETH CLEARWATER X READER

PREVOUS Prologue

THIRD PERSON'S POV

Seth sat with the pack and the imprints after telling them about you — The little he knew anyways. He was still hung up on the fact that you would only be here for two months.

"Why don't you, I don't know, show up in the same places she is?" Embry suggested, throwing a baseball to Quil as they sat down, albeit carefully — Sam would kill them if they broke something.

Emily wouldn’t mind, but since she bought half of the stuff in the house Sam would break their fingers if they scratched even one thing.

"He's not a mind reader, Embry, God," Leah snarked, throwing an arm around her not so little brother's shoulders, pulling him slightly closer to her.

She smelled like home, so he nestled in a little closer, needing the comfort.

"But the little Cullen is, maybe Jake can ask them for some help," Embry shot back, and Seth looked elated, but then his face dropped.

"But I don't want her to think I'm a stalker or anything," Seth murmured defeatedly, and it was back to the drawing board.

The room went silent, Seth dragging the slightly good mood down with him.

"Adopt a dog," Quil suggested, and everyone looked at him.

"You said she has a dog — If you get one then you can take it for walks when she takes hers for walks. That's not that stalkerish. You have an excuse to be in the same place at the same time," Quil elaborated as he fumbled an extra hard throw from Embry, and Seth grinned so bright that it made everyone else crack a small smile.

"Quil, you're a genius! Now all I need to do is find a dog." Seth replied, his mind running wild as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, wondering who to message.

Adopting dogs from the local shelter was really expensive, and he was saving for a new dirt bike. He only had $200 to go, and he really didn’t want to waste money on a new dog. Not when he could nearly taste the dirt bike.

"Rez dogs are having puppies all of the time man, but if you're that keen Miss Postoak is trying to get rid of her bitch since she can't afford her right now, she’s only a companion dog and the others are working dogs," Jared supplied before taking another bite of his blueberry muffin, courtesy of Emily, and Seth felt victorious as he clicked onto his Mom’s contact and called her, asking if he could get a dog for his birthday.

"You're picking up its’ crap, buying its’ dog food and leashes, and it is getting neutered, we have enough strays on the reservation as is, young man — and I'll help you set up the yard for it when you get it," She replied, then said 'love you' and hung up the phone.

Seth whooped, then calmed back down, looking around the room at his expectant friends.

"What the fuck do I need for a dog?"

Leah pinched her brother’s ear for his foul language, making everyone laugh.

•••

Thankfully, Old Quil owned many a dog in his lifetime, used for hunting, mainly, but most of them were now companions in their old age, the man hesitant to get another in case it outlived him. Young Quil helped Seth buy the needed supplies like leashes, a crate for inside, dishes for the food, a dog bed, and a vet appointment was set for Monday so the bitch that Seth adopted — named Missy, a Rottweiler Shar Pei cross (Rott Pei, Quil had helpfully given him the proper name for the breed of the mutt) could be checked up, seeing as she was due for one.

Seth and Quil now at the store, buying some dog food. The smell was still overwhelming, and mixed in with how all of the other store goers smelled it was nearly unbearable. He could even still smell the products they mopped the floors with. He put the last thing in the cart when he heard a familiar voice. You.

"Quil, shit man, that's her!" Seth whispered excitedly, then listened as you made your way through the aisles, talking about dog food for Cujo.

Quil watched his younger pack mate bounce on his heels as you approached, and tried not to laugh at how excited Seth was getting. The boy turned to face you as soon as you turned the corner, dragging your dad by his hand, a basket in your other hand.

"Oh! It's little Seth!" Alexander pointed out, making you look away from the tins of dog food on the shelf, and give him a friendly grin, dropping your dad’s hand in the process.

"Hello, hello," You greeted, and nodded towards his full trolley, "Stocking up for a vacation?"

Seth turned back at the groups of haphazardly stacked dry kibble bags and wet food cans, and numerous treat packets. Maybe he was going a tiny bit overboard.

"Uh, no," Seth admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a chuckle, "I'm getting my first dog and I think I got overexcited."

"Oh! Such a spoiled little puppy that will be! Maybe you and miss (Y/N) could take your dogs for walks sometimes! I think she gets sick of her old man slowing her down," Alexander offered, and nudged (Y/N)'s shoulder, "If you need help with the dog too, (Y/N) could teach you a few tricks. Should help her keep herself busy for the next two months."

Seth tried not to smile too hard as he agreed, but noticed that you looked less than pleased, but give him a tight lipped smile nonetheless.

"Dad, grab two dry bags of dog food," You commanded, and your father did your bidding as you somewhat aggressively threw some dog food cans into a basket, managing to dent one of them.

Your father suddenly looked less than pleased with your behaviour as you threw the last can and turned on your heel, shoulder checking him as you walked past him. Alexander looked back at the pair of boys and gave them a tight lipped smile and a small wave before leaving behind his daughter.

Seth cocked his head to the side, trying to drown out the rest of the store goers to listen to you. Quil immediately did the same.

“What in the Gods was that? Ridiculous behaviour for what?” Your father said gruffly, but not unkindly.

"Dadda, I don't want to go for walks with him!" Was the first thing Seth heard you say, which made his heart drop, but he kept on listening anyway.

"Nonsense, he seems nice! A friend wouldn't hurt," Your father tried to reason with you, but you huffed.

"If a friend wouldn't hurt we'd actually live in one place and not move around like nomads." You then let out a soft 'fuck!', most likely stubbing your toe on the stupid boxes near the mouth of aisle 2.

"Well, I'm sure this place is the place. Trust me, tiny child. If it isn't, I'll buy you your dream Dodge Challenger for a late birthday gift." Your father reasoned.

"Don't bullshit me," You snapped back, sounding like you were nearer to the doors.

"I'm not! Matte black Dodge Challenger with red under glow for your birthday, or we live here, I swear it on Cujo's life." Your father pleaded, and you sighed.

"Fine. I'll see if one of the workers knows how to get into contact with him. I'll try to find him on MySpace or Twitter or something." You relented, then the doors opened to the front of the store, and your scent was gone.

Your Father cheered and Quil put Seth into a headlock playfully, messing up his hair, making Seth laugh as he did so.

•••

You sat on your new bed, your dog Cujo, a black Cane Corso who was getting on in his years, shown by the grey fur on his muzzle, resting on the floor next to your bed, not being allowed on any furniture. Your father was doing research in his room.

You picked up a piece of mango and popped it into your mouth as you looked up the name of the place you were staying at on Facebook. You found the profile, and clicked into it, then went straight to followers. You couldn't find any followers with Seth's profile picture, so you went and looked up the name of the school, finding their profile and looking through the followings for Seth. No luck. Even searching his name up you discovered nothing. You stalked his school until you found his name on an old post where he had won an award for a spelling bee, also discovering his last name. Clearwater. Seth Clearwater.

You logged into your MySpace account, and looked for him, and surprisingly found him. His profile picture was a photo of him with a man, standing side by side, grinning.

You found it, and let held your arms up above your head in a victorious manner, looking around the room as if expecting someone to cheer for you, then focussing on your dog.

"See how fucking amazing I am, Cujo? The FBI needs to hire me as a detective," You said, then started scrolling through his profile.

Nothing overly fancy. Just some pictures of him, people you assumed to be his family, and some of nature around the area, alongside some photos of his adventures. You clicked the 'Add Friend' button, and decided to make a new friendship bracelet while you watched movies, heading off to your dad's room to go and ask him to start the bracelet for you.

•••

Seth was currently scrolling through Twitter at his desk as his Xbox 360 started up, Leah lounging on his bed playing Mario on his DS. Technically, he and Leah shared the Xbox, but he just kept it in his room as she didn’t really play it much these days, instead choosing to play his DS. He didn’t mind. Just as long as she stayed in his room so he knew it was safe. Missy was laying halfway under his bed, gnawing at a new chew toy Quil had picked out.

His phone beeped, and a new notification popped up. He walked over and slid onto the bed next to his sister. A new friend request. He looked, and his heart started speeding up as he looked at the profile.

“What?” Leah inquired, hearing the thrumming, looking over his shoulder.

“She added me on MySpace!” Seth told his sister excitedly, showing her the profile picture of you and a black dog, along with your Dad and a woman who looked a bit like you, and accepted your friend request, then started looking through your profile.

There were photos from all around the world. Australia, Sweden, Italy, France. Your father and you were the main focus of your photos, but your nature shots were a sight to behold. There were also some with people that weren’t your father, so maybe friends and relatives. The photos of the woman in your profile picture stopped around a year ago, he noted. Your newest photo was the Welcome to Forks sign, you and a huge black dog posing in front of it, the same one from your profile picture.

A message notification popped up. He opened it, and there was a message from you.

Y/N:

Hey

“Oh my goodness, she messaged me!” Seth nearly squealed, and Leah bit back a laugh at her little brother, knowing that laughing would probably result in him attacking her with a pillow covered in a Spider-Man case.

“Well don’t just ignore it, reply!” Leah urged, and Seth looked at his sister, eyes as wide as saucers.

“What do I say!” Seth panicked, and Leah rolled her eyes, grabbing the iPhone covered in a Spider-Man case and messaging her back.

Seth:

Hey

•••

You blinked at your laptop screen, your friendship bracelet forgotten. You didn’t expect him to reply so fast. You went down to the vending machine just outside of the office about ten minutes ago and he wasn’t there, instead there was a girl at the counter, talking on the phone as she painted her nails. Maybe his shift was over, and he was at home? You didn’t think on it much.

Your fingertips ghosted over the keys, then stopped, instead picking up your phone and logging into MySpace there.

“Dad?” You called out, and he ambled into your room, a sandwich with a bite taken out of it, jerking his head upwards slightly as he chewed.

“Seth messaged me and I don’t know how to reply,” You admitted, and your father chuckled as he came over and sat next to you, trying not to get any crumbs on the bed.

Cujo immediately came over and sat expectantly next to him on the floor, but your father shooed him away. Your baby walked over and laid in his crate, looking offended.

“What do you want to say?” He asked, pulling your phone into his hand, getting ready to type a message for you.

You leaned against his muscly arm, and shrugged. You weren’t very good at holding conversations.

“Why don’t you ask him about his new dog?” Your father suggested and you grinned victoriously, taking back the phone and sending him a message.

Y/N:

How’s things going with preparing for ur dog?

You hummed, feeling content, then sent the message. Seth started typing immediately.

Seth:

She’s good! We picked her up like an hour ago and she’s currently harassing my sister, lol

A photo came through of a dog that looked like a Rottweiler, but was wrinkly, and the tail curved upwards, sitting on the lap of a girl that looked a couple years older than you, playing a DS.

“Oh! Looks like a little Rott Pei! They’re stubborn little fucks,” Your father commented, still eating his sandwich, making you giggle.

Your aunty Lara had one, over in Italy. He tended to chew any shoes left outside, and didn’t like Cujo much.

Seth:

Her name is Missy :)

Y/N:

She’s so cute! Is she a Rott Pei? Dad says they’re stubborn lol

Seth:

Yeah, she is. I’m gonna try and take her for a walk tomorrow. She’s really good on lead, and well socialised. My sister Leah’s coming too, wanna come with?

Before you could type ‘no’, your father snatched your phone and sent a message.

Y/N:

That sounds good, when & where?

“Dad!” You hissed, picking up your stuffed Elmo doll from beside you and assaulting your father with it, making him drop his sandwich.

Cujo wasted no time in scrabbling over and eating it, making you laugh, but you quickly stopped as your phone beeped again, leaning over and grabbing it from your dad’s hand.

Seth:

Tomorrow, like 11am?

We can take out a picnic!

Me and Leah can come pick you up :)

You quickly positioned yourself so you could see Cujo in the background, your dad deciding to hop into the photo as well, holding up both of his thumbs and giving the biggest smile you’d ever seen.

Y/N:

Cujo & I are keen, so’s Dad apparently. See you then!

•••

Leah pinched her little brother’s cheek as he put the phone down, tittering at the way he blushed, the colour in his cheeks and ears becoming more noticeable with the red undertone of his blood rushing to them.

“My baby, all grown up! Going on a date with a girl-”

“-It’s not a date, Leah,” Seth said exasperatedly as he grabbed his phone and messaged Jacob, wanting to let him know first.

Seth:

(Y/N) and I are walking our dogs together tomorrow.

Jacob:

Good job bro :)

You should see if she wants to come to your birthday party tomorrow

Seth blinked. Tomorrow was his birthday. He’d be fifteen, and in two months he’d be starting tenth grade.

Seth:

I forgot about that haha

Are you and Ness coming?

Jacob

Wouldn’t miss it for the world man

I picked out a cool gift but Ness said hers is ‘practical’, or whatever

You know how she is

Seth laughed and sent back a thumbs up emoji, then leaned over and scritched Missy behind her ears, making her wag her tail contentedly. Today was a good day. Tomorrow was going to be even better.

•••

Alexander stood out on the porch of the cabin, facing the sea as he puffed on his Marlboro, the cigarette being his only source of light other than the moon, full and low over the sea.

A movement in the distance, over near some rocks, only just visible in the corner of his eye. His head snapped in the direction of it, his blue eyes nearly glowing in the dark.

Something was staring right back at him, its eyes shining green like a cat’s in the dark. A stare off ensued. Alexander moved ever so slightly, reaching for his crossbow, but the creature then spread its’ wings and took flight, the huge wing span nearly blocking out the moon as it ascended.

Alexander growled and put out his cigarette, dropping it into the metal trash can near his feet. He found what he was looking for. Now it was time to complete the rest of his mission.

•••

Mary Postoak stared at the moon through her kitchen window, opting to watch it as the sink filled up in front of her.

There was a flash of darkness in front of the moon, looking like a huge bird. She gasped, a hand going to her chest. It was bigger than any bird she saw, ever. And the last time she checked; birds didn’t have legs like humans.

A thud was heard in her backyard, and her dogs started barking, making her head for her back door, but a yelp cut her off. She instead turned on her heel, running towards her bedroom and grabbed her rifle, then ran through the hallway, throwing open the back door and loading the rifle.

She grabbed the flashlight from her deck table, and turned it on, shining it toward the scene, and gasped.

Something was hunkered over her dog, feeding from it. Upon hearing her, it looked up, blood covering its lower lip. It was hideous. Pale skin, and two enormous wings. It stood up at its full height, nearly ten feet, and stepped forward, making her drop her torch and point her rifle at it.

She fired it once, hitting it square in the chest. It growled, then lunged for the woman, attacking her before she could even scream.

§§§

Fun fact lol, Missy & Cujo are based on dogs I've owned. Again, not proofread so please kindly point out any mistakes!

#seth clearwater x you #seth clearwater x reader #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #paul lahote #embry call #quil ateara #wolf pack #twilight wolfpack #twilight wolves #twilight saga #twilight #jared cameron #sam uley

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whereisyourstar · 2 months ago

Text

Yes. Promise.

Part 3 of the Stand By, Hold Back, Be Patient series

Part 2, Part 4

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Descriptions of blood, fear, mentions of past animal abuse/neglect, heavy handed dream imagery

(Take all ASL represented with a grain of salt, I'm the furthest thing from an expert)

He reacts as you'd expect, which is to say he doesn't. Just stands there between two trunks and stares. Like yesterday, when you left him in your rearview mirror, you see the details of him so clearly. At this distance, you wish you couldn't. He's dressed the same as before, the clothes rumpled from use and too few washings, and the mask is ever-present, but you can see the stains too easily. Old, dried blood on his gloves, and matching splashes of it on his sleeves, in spots around his stomach. What you can see of his pant legs tells the same story—these clothes have seen a lot of killing. There's also dirt and stains you don't dare give a name to, but the fact that he doesn't wash his murder outfit is less upsetting than the fact that he has one.

You'd closed your eyes when you washed your hands last night, scrubbing at whatever encrusted filth was left behind from the machete's grip until your skin was raw. That same grip catches your eye from its place on his belt, dark and obviously rusty brown even from this distance. So it was blood. You know that now. It doesn't help abate the overall sense of unease.

But you're not dead twice over now, hopefully three by the time you get to make good on your plan to scurry inside. And, though you're still paralyzed with fear, with that dread of anything can happen right now, your researcher brain is tired of having questions with no answers. Why are you not dead.

You're summoning the courage to just say it when Jason slowly lifts his arm, bends it at the elbow, and snaps his fingers at you. The actual snap is deadened by his glove, but the motion is unmistakably…a fucking snap. You just stare at him—is he trying to, what, set you on fire with his mind? Trying to beckon you to him? Because one is slightly more plausible than you would have thought a month ago, and the other is never going to happen. You stay exactly where you are and watch as he purposefully drops his arm, then lifts, levers the elbow, and snaps all over again.

Something in your brain stirs at the movement, forcing a connection between what's on the other side of the door and the man in front of you.

"Dog?" you ask, quiet even to your own ears.

He nods with that same deliberate slowness.

"Oh my god," you whisper and press the entirety of your back against the door, more for support than outright fear. That's ASL, that's language. From him. And obviously he understands speech, else he would have just killed you and Heracles on the porch that night, but you assumed the lack of communication was just…part of the silent, scary murderer shtick. If there's one sign, then there can be others, and while your sign isn't great—and out of date besides, you have no idea how much of the language is still kicking around in your brain from the singular class you took in high school—maybe there's something you can do with this. The chance is worth it when you lift your hands and haltingly sign while you say, "Yes or no, you're Jason Voorhees."

The mask tilts to the side and god he really is too close, just a dozen or so feet away, then he lifts his hand and signs yes.

Okay. Well. You'd already been pretty sure you were dealing with a Jason, but the confirmation doesn't hurt. And you've learned something, he either had yes and no in his sign arsenal already, or he's understanding the connection between what you're saying and what you're doing with your hands. Good information, solid information, and now…now you can have a conversation. "You're the one, um. Killing people? Around here?" Another yes, so drawn out that it borders on parody. You know how fast he can be, you've experienced that firsthand, so you don't understand this reticence today. Is this just how he acts when he's not immediately focused on murdering? "Are you the only one? Doing the—the killings, since the 80s?"

The question confuses him—you watch his shoulders heave around a breath. But he does, after thirty seconds that stretch for an eternity to you, eventually sign yes.

That means that the man in front of you is either well into his seventies, and you've certainly never known a retirement age man to feel that solid, or the ghost/undead/phantasm theory has more credit than you thought. If he's even telling the truth. It's not like he has any reason not to lie to you.

You're not breathing correctly and you realize your fingers are completely numb. If you didn't have the door to hold you up, you know you'd be a trembling pile by now. This is—it defies thorough explanation, because you're curious, and mystified, and a little grateful to have your questions answered in any capacity, but mostly you're just scared. This is real, this hell week has been real, and it's not going away. Your foot crinkles the plastic of one of the bags as it tries to hold your failing balance and you remember. A glance to the right, loath as you are to take your eyes off him for even a second, and you see your truck, left unlocked and open in your flight last night, now closed. Seemingly untouched otherwise, which is…

You crouch for a second, eyes forward once again, and scoop the bags off the gravel of your walkway. They feel just as heavy as they did last night. "This was you?" You indicate the bags and remember your wild swing with them too late. As ineffectual as that hit had been, what if he sees this as you arming yourself? He hasn't touched any of his weapons—not that he'd need them if he wanted to harm you, you have the bruises to prove that—and maybe that's the point of the slowness. To lull you into a false sense of security before he uses all that speed and mass to crush you? But then it comes back to you being laughably easy to kill, he doesn't need tricks. If you're certain of anything, it's that if he wanted you dead right now, you would be.

Immune to the panic in your mind, Jason just signs yes. You don't know who else would have done it—some helpful stranger in the night, which is improbable, but not as much as it was before this week started—but again, it's good to have confirmation. It's hard to bite down on your instinctive why, to demand an explanation. You remind yourself to stick to yes or no questions, this needs to be as simple as possible to be effective. You've been signing every question you ask verbally, going so far as to fingerspell Jason's name, but he doesn't appear to have picked up anything else.

"Thank you," you tell him, and saying it is so normal that you almost apologize for hitting him next. The trees past your walkway, technically still a "yard", look different in the golden daylight, but that machete gouge is still there in a nearby trunk. Then, the question you most immediately need an answer to: "Are you going to kill me?"

The risk is somewhat calculated. You're the one with the ability to put a door between you and this man-ghost-creature, and whatever else he's capable of, there's no way he's getting through the solid oak, so if he reacts badly to the question…you have a decent chance of getting away.

Yes, Jason signs, then no. Unhurried in every motion. He hasn't moved an inch this whole time.

Your mouth is suddenly very dry. "Maybe? Or…you don't know."

Yes. Then, blindingly fast after the sedate pace he's set, he signs again: Dog. He's clearly running out of patience with your questions, the sound of his breathing filling the space between the two of you. Considering his answer to the last one, his patience is something you don't want to run out of, so you have to acquiesce.

"Heracles." This is fingerspelled too—creating a sign name on the fly after years of absence from the language is not a task you're up to. "My dog, Heracles. Yes?" Jason nods for this one and, horribly, steps forward.

It's a single step, but your heart leaps to your throat and sticks there. Your flinch back knocks the bags against the door and you hear Heracles, who up to this point has been perfectly patient, bark on the other side of it.

"Wait," you instruct, and goddamn if it doesn't work a second time. You're more forceful with this one, less of a screech and more of an order, which feels like it could have broken very badly for you. Every decision you've made thus far feels like it's on a knife's edge—you've just been incredibly lucky to this point, but now you think you know what he's after. That makes a difference.

Jason obeys. He doesn't move at all, you don't even think he's breathing. You can use that. With your hand pressed to the doorknob, you say, "You can see him, I'll let him come out. But only if you promise me that you won't hurt him." And you make the sign for promise, finger to the lips, then down flat on your fist. Jason watches the movement closely, you catch his mask dip down a touch to better view your hands—which in turn makes you realize that he's been staring mostly at your face—before he slowly mimics it. Yes. Promise.

What's the promise of a murderer mean to you? What should it mean? Probably less than it actually does to you. Because he spared Heracles' life in that first encounter, then saved him from the forest—regardless of your intention—to bring back to you. And Heracles, brave, terrified Heracles, had been more or less fine with him at the end there.

So you open the door and take your eyes off Jason for a second time to beckon your boy outside. His too-small eyes in his over-large head are so full of trust when he looks up at you, tail wagging at both the sound of your voice and your nervous smile down to him. "Come on, baby, come outside. Good boy, good—oh!"

Heracles unceremoniously shoves past your legs and bounds over to Jason without a care in the world. His tail is high and wagging, ears pricked up, and some honest to god pep in his step. You're left to just stand there and watch while Jason folds himself down to one knee on the forest floor and runs an affectionate, filthy glove over Heracles' back.

It is, frankly, the strangest, most confusing, and nicest thing you've ever seen. Heracles has always been perfectly affectionate with you from the get go—you'd had his head in your lap within a minute of visiting him at the shelter, his bandaged tail steadily thumping. It had been a shock when this sweet dog lifted that heavy head to growl savagely at a male shelter worker who happened to pass by, even with the warning you'd had about his history. You knew he could like men, he'd stopped growling at one of your roommate's partners just before the two of you left the city for good, but you'd never seen him like this. Wriggling happily while this stranger who, you cannot stress this enough, has been seconds from killing you twice now thunks his sides with massive pats.

It feels stupid to think it, because Heracles is a dog and not a rational judge of character, but Jason can't be completely, senselessly evil if Heracles likes him this much.

"I've never seen him like this with a stranger before," you say. You've moved closer without realizing, now about half a foot away from your open door. Jason's mask tilts up when you speak and watches your hands. "Sorry, I'm trying to understand, but—he was terrified of you last night. What happened in the woods when you went after him?"

Jason doesn't answer you with sign, which gives you a better idea of how much he actually knows. Instead, with that same deliberateness he doesn't seem to need to use with Heracles, he takes the cuff of his leftmost glove and pulls it down to expose a pale wrist. He presents the wrist to Heracles, who sniffs with such abandon that it makes you laugh a little. The mask snaps back up and it takes all the nerve you have left not to jump.

"Well," you start, a little unsteadily, "the method clearly works."

You watch the two of them for a few minutes and, against your will, you start to feel…secure. Jason's downright playful with Heracles, constantly patting him and letting himself be subjected to a happy dog's lack of personal space. Even when Heracles plants his paws in the middle of Jason's chest and jams his nose against the mask, which makes you nervous, because the first rule of someone having a mask is to not touch the mask, all Jason does is hold very still for inspection. All's clear, apparently, because the final sniff is punctuated with a huge, goofy dog smile that makes your overtaxed heart thump in a nice way for once.

Eventually Heracles gets bored of Jason's scent and comes back to you. You drop to your knees for him, don't even think about it, because his presence is perpetually comforting and you could really use some comfort right now. There's definitely a smell to him now, the faintest stench of old blood and fresh air on his fur that isn't as terrible as it should be. You try not to think about it as you scratch your nails over that spot he likes and give him a peck between the eyes.

Heracles doesn't react to Jason moving with near-silent steps to follow, eyeing you the entire time like you're the dangerous one here, so you don't either. With Jason crouched behind Heracles, and you sitting on your knees before him, you're both in a kind of neutral territory. You're not about to tell Jason to leave, and he can't kill you—you hope—with your dog right here. "He is such a little mama's boy," you say by way of explanation. "But you can keep petting him, if you want."

It's heaven for a dog. Two people, four hands, and nearly uninterrupted attention. After barely a minute of silent, dutiful petting between the two of you, Heracles flops down onto his side and just basks.

"Greedy little thing, isn't he?" All affection in the way you say it, punctuated by his tongue lolling out into your lap while you rub his ear. "He deserves it, though. He's had a hard life." You catch the mask glancing your way in your upper peripheral and you rush to explain. "I don't know all the details, only what the people at the shelter back in the city could tell me, but he was…really badly abused before they picked him up. His last owner, or whoever, clearly neglected him…you might have seen it, he's missing some teeth. And his tail's a little crooked from where they snapped it. Right—yeah, right there." Jason's glove hovers above Heracles' tail and stops midway, where there will forever be a bump. It's strangely satisfying to see that giant hand curl into a fist when you confirm the spot. That's how you feel about it too. "He's nervous around strangers now—" no need to upset him by singling out men in particular, just in case "—which is partly why I brought him out here with me. No neighbors, present company excluded."

Before you can worry about that being taken the wrong wrong way, you look up and realize that Jason's already staring at you. He's hunched over to pet Heracles and even from this vantage he's just big. Big hands, big shoulders, big presence. This close, and with the unclouded sun up high, you're treated to a few snap observations. He's obviously bald where the mask can't hide and every inch of visible skin is suntanned, but not in the way you've known people who work outside to tan—there's a dullness to his skin that makes you think of death, some primal human pattern recognition in your subconscious noticing the wrongness of him. Nothing with skin like that should be moving, you're sure. More than that, there's something different about the actual shape of his skull itself that the mask's straps exacerbate, but that isn't what makes your breath catch in your throat.

You can see directly through the eyeholes of the mask and are struck by an alert, richly brown eye and its sagging, paler sibling. All the usual micromovements of the brown eye are not mirrored by the other and your brain supplies several unbidden theories—birth defect, blinded by a victim, price of living this long.

You know you've stared back at him for too long when his breathing starts to grow louder, the sound of it rattling out from behind the mask, and you barely have a moment to remember to be scared when he signs you.

Heracles makes a displeased whine at the lack of attention and flips all the way onto his back, hind legs kicking until Jason finally puts a giant palm on the offered belly and starts to rub. The sound of Heracles' tail thumping against his leg pulls you back to yourself. "Me?" He nods, doesn't look away. "What about me?"

Dog, yes, he signs. Then, a more forcefully pointed finger: You.

If you survive this day, you vow to teach him question words. Guessing, or just the stress of the last twenty minutes, is giving you a headache. Forcing connections again, you try, "You…want to know why I'm here? Living here?" Another nod, and he could at least look a little gratified that you're catching on to his thinking like this. You have to look away, back down to Heracles and his blissed out face in your lap, to answer. "Same reason, I guess. I'm not as good with people as I used to be, and it's…quiet here. The quiet's nice."

It's the right thing to say, you know as soon as Jason starts to nod, unprompted by a question for the first time. And oh if that doesn't give you an idea, and the idea is emboldened to action by the way Jason has been putting up with Heracles' tail surely thumping a bruise against his leg. "I want to ask you something," you start, sure of yourself for the first time all day. "You don't have to say yes or no right away, definitely take time to think on it, especially if you plan on, uh, letting me live through the night. But I have an opportunity that I don't think many people get when they come to this area. That is, I want to ask if you'll allow us to live here. Heracles and I." The lack of immediate reaction gives you a chance to push your case as far as it can be pushed. "All he wants is room to roam, and all I want is to be away from the world, which I think…is what you want too. You'd probably prefer not to have neighbors, but we'd be good ones. Promise. And," the clincher, the real point of it all, "Heracles really likes you. And I think you like him."

Your sweet, boxy dog chooses that moment to snore, alerting you both to the fact that you've pet him into complete contentment. This means you have a close, personal view of Jason's eye widening when he returns his attention to Heracles, his hand beyond gentle on the sleeping dog's belly.

Then Jason stands in one smooth movement and uses every inch of his height to loom over you. Fast, faster than you expected, catching you off guard despite having already been looking at him. His breaths fall heavy, heavier than they've been all day, and when he touches the handle of his machete you think, Oh, he's still going to kill me. How quickly you allowed yourself to feel safe with Heracles here, how quick you were to conflate Heracles' protection with your own.

He points like he's stabbing the air. First at you, then at Heracles, then at the house at your back. He nods. Lifts the machete an inch out of its sheath, enough for the steel to gleam, and points at you again. Signs no. Then, deliberately staring you down, signs yes-no. Maybe. The implication is clear—stay here, keep your promise, and he won't kill you. Whether that's a probationary decision or the way you just have to live your life now is unclear, but it's a hell of a lot more than you were expecting out of this day. As far as dealings with landlords go, you've had worse.

Then he's gone. Just turns on his heel and stalks back into the woods without a second glance. You're left with your mouth hanging open, completely struck.

You do, eventually, keep the plan and scurry back inside. It becomes clear Jason's not coming back when Heracles snorts himself awake, sniffs the air, and trots into the house of his own accord. So you follow him in, close the door gently behind you, turn the lock, and just…breathe. Long, uninterrupted inhales and exhales until they stop shuddering on the end.

"You're all right," you say to the silence of your home. Then, to Heracles: "I owe you one."

You owe him more than one, which is why you put chicken on your grocery list and underline it twice. Putting your bank account into the red to get your boy, who just saved your life for the foreseeable future with his ability to charm murderers, a treat is more than fair. Your paycheck will be hitting soon, signaling the end of the month and the oncoming loveliness of full spring, so the nasty email you'll get from the bank is worth it. As if you'd be scared of an email after the week you've had.

Vowing to do some work when you return, and after checking with the store in town that dogs are allowed—you can't bring yourself to hate that you're the kind of person that brings your dog everywhere now that your dog is a literal murder deterrent—you harness Heracles up and step outside. The two of you walk to the truck, and save for a moth that found its way inside when the door was open last night, you're uninterrupted as you coax the engine to life.

No figures in the rearview. No growling from Heracles while the trees steadily thin out until there's actual road, not just dirt, under your tires. And where town has always been more or less safe, if more crowded than you'd like after acclimating so naturally to isolation, the eyes of passerby feels heavier than before. Like they can see the deal you've struck with the beast that murders their friends, their neighbors, and you've been tainted for it. That's entirely in your head, you know, but it doesn't stop you from wanting to explain that you're not actually glad to have an understanding with a serial killer. It's still a relief to get back in your truck and know that you don't have to be back for at least a few days.

The forest accepts you back, and it feels different too. The trees press in just as much, scratch the side of your truck with their errant limbs, but there's no sinister edge to it. In the orangey afternoon light, the birches and oaks and trees too old for you to name, look golden.

You're back in the house, knife unstrapped and tucked away, and unpacking the groceries when you realize you're half-planning what cassettes you're going to get for the truck when the paycheck comes in. You like Joan Baez as much as the next person, and though one album over and over is getting old, that's not what stops you. It's the promise of having a tomorrow that does it—that you're planning for it, and the tomorrows after, in your own small way. It's how you realize that you believe Jason.

That night, when your eyes are too tired to squint at your computer screen any longer, you perform your usual lock checks. Your face gets washed, you change into whatever's comfortable and clean enough to sleep in, and you pull back the sheets on your bed. Heracles, ever your stalwart companion, spreads into the space with an appreciative sigh. After so long cramped onto the sofa with you, you suppose he's earned the right to take up more room on the king mattress than you do.

Sleep comes in waves over you. With heavy snores somewhere near your mid-back, and a light wind sighing through the trees outside your shaded and curtained window, you drift off without fear. When you dream, it is of turbulent water stretched far past the horizon, and a small boat in the middle of it. Angry waves crash in every direction except for where the boat touches, its simple, unpainted wood reflected in a circle of smooth water. A hand reaches lazily into the water and skims the surface, unafraid.

You scoff at yourself in the morning, rubbing sleep out of your eyes and replaying the dream in your head. You don't even like water, the ponds and creeks you grew up with held little except the promise of mosquitoes and alligators, so you're not sure what your subconscious is trying to tell you with this one. Still, it stays with you all through the morning routine, and as you sit down to get to work, you silently open a document and type out the scene as clearly as you remember it. Just to exorcise it from your brain, you tell yourself, but you save it to a new folder called Am I losing it. Just in case.

#jason voorhees/reader #jason voorhees/female reader #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees x you #slasher x reader #I was going to wait longer between putting these out but I also need to exorcise them from my brain. twinning with reader.#I have one other section ready go but I'm forcing myself to hold off #FINALLY some jason descriptions I've been dying to mention his big brown eye from the second movie #also he knows some asl despite the popularization of asl not really matching up with the timeline. pamela was a progressive lady.

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therottenkingsreckoning · 3 months ago

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Part 2 of Chapter 9! I told y'all I'd get this done quick. This also means that we're halfway through this beast, and I'm so glad you've been sticking with me through this journey so far. Enjoy!

~~Little Flame, Ch. 9, part 2~~

Eddie's eyes widened, and despite himself a smile crept onto his face. "Wha- really? Oh, well that great news darlin'! She'll say yes, I just know it!"

"I really hope so," Sally murmured. Then, seeming to regain her normal bombast, she waved both hands above her head in a gesture towards the imagined spectacle. "But that's all the more reason it needs to be bold! Fantastic! I'll put on the greatest play you've ever seen, with her and I as the leading stars, and that moment will be the most beautiful 3rd act of any story ever written!"

"Oh I'm sure it will!" Eddie said excitedly. It was hard not to get excited when the girl got on moments like this. "And I'll help ya as soon as I've gotten Frank's food!"

She turned to look at him, crestfallen. "Y...you can't help me now?"

Eddie shook his head. "Nope. I've got my own sweetheart waitin' back at home with a cravin' for hot dogs, and by god I'm gonna get 'em." He'd not forgotten the original plan, nor was he going to be pulled away from it.

"Oh well, I'm going there too!" she insisted. "I need to get supplies after all. You could just...help me pick them out real quick, discuss a basic plan, and then I promise I'll let you continue your journey in peace!"

"No good," he told her. "Howdy's fresh out of the stuff I need, which is why I'm here at all." He wouldn't compromise on this.

Sally looked at him with sad, pathetic eyes. "Please?"

He'd maybe compromise on this.

"Alright, fine," he sighed, admitting defeat at last. "But only 'cus it's you, and I do wanna see it go well for ya."

"Oh excellent!" She squealed delightedly, pulling him into a hug. "I knew I could trust you!"

A few moments later, and with his groceries stored in her fridge for momentary safekeeping, the pair had set off. He could've brought it all back to his own house, but the thought of returning without those crucial items was...less than appealing. Probably why I'm choosing to do this at all, he thought. Rather here than there.

Unfortunately for him though, the pinball machine of entropy had not yet lost its momentum, as not even a full minute into their walk, an all-too-familiar pink figure appeared.

"Shit, it's her!" Sally hissed. "I can't let her know what I'm doing, it'd ruin everything!"

"Well whaddya expect me t-" Eddie began.

All that met him was the rustling wind, and a suspiciously star-shaped void to his right.

"Hi Eddie!" Julie said cheerfully, skipping up to him. "Who are you talking to?"

"...no one, apparently," he grumbled.

"Oh...well, have you seen Sally anywhere? I just thought of a great new game for us to play, but I can't seem to find her."

"N-nope!" he lied quickly, glancing around for any sign of his friend. "Can't...can't say I have, all day."

Julie squinted at him suspiciously, and Eddie felt the hair on his neck stand up. He wasn't a very good liar, especially when he was already stressed out as is.

"You sure?"

"Sure am!" He pretended to think for a moment. "Let's see... I went and dropped off all the mail earlier, but uhh...she was outta the house right then." That part wasn't a lie- she'd been gone, as she often was. "Then I came home and started workin' on sorting letters, but I remembered I needed to drop by the store and get and some food for Frank-"

"Oh!" Julie exclaimed. "Is that why you're here? Well, we could go to Howdy's together, and I can say hi to Frank when we bring it all back."

"Wait!" the man blurted out, realizing his mistake too late. She looked at him confused, already turning to head in the direction of the bodega.

"H-he doesn't have the ingredients I need," Eddie continued. "Ran out of the milk and cherries for those signature hot dogs, so I gotta go ask Barbie about it."

Julie huffed and turned to him, crossing her arms. "Ok well, now I know you're lying. Frank wouldn't want a hot dog, especially those ones, he hates them! So what's the truth?"

"That is the truth!" Eddie huffed back, hands on hips. "Ain't ya heard of a craving before?"

"I can tell you're hiding something, and sending me in circles!" Then, seeming to think of something, she smiled smugly and pointed a finger at him. "I'll believe you if you spin around 5 times and point back at me."

"What does that have t-" Eddie began, but it was no use. He was trapped and he knew it, however silly these games might be. Spinning once, twice, three times around and round, his vision blurred and wobbled until his outstretched finger nearly collided with hers.

"Is that good now? Can I leave?"

"Hmm... not quite," the monster said. "What am I thinking of right now?"

"Uhh...flowers?" He said.

"Nope."

"Games."

"Nuh uh."

"Look, lemme go!" Eddie shouted, stamping his foot in anger. "I'm runnin' late, and I just know Frank already hates me right now cus I couldn't just get 'em what he wants, and I'm tired and stressed and a terrible husband and I really don't need this right now!"

Silence. Julie looked at him in shock, and he could sense that wherever Sally had hidden herself she was stunned too. "Oh.." the rainbow monster said gently. "You weren't lying about that, were you?"

"What reason would I have to lie?" He growled, wiping away the tears that had begun to form.

"I...I don't know. I'm sorry," she said, stepping out of his way. "I'll let you get back to it."

"It's fine," the man grumbled. It really wasn't, but he was too tired to keep arguing. Glancing back at her for just a moment though, he said, "Maybe you should drop by later. Help explain what took me so long. He might get less mad at you."

And now, after all the nonsense he'd been through, he'd made his way over to Poppy's barn. Those big red doors might as well have been the gates of heaven, and his angel was visible still in the window, laughing away at some unknown joke. Finally, he could get this done.

Knocking on the door, he was greeted with a cheery "come in!" from the resident bird. She looked up from where she'd been adding pumpkin seeds to a recipe, and her eyes widened at his disheveled & miserable appearance. "Oh dear... are you alright?"

"Yeah," Barbie added. "No offense, but you look like you've been put through the wringer."

"It's been...a day," Eddie sighed. "Been looking for ya cus I needed to ask a favor."

"Oh?" The dog stepped a bit closer, scratching awkwardly at the space between her tied-up ears. It was rare that Eddie Dear asked anything of his friends- the man was self-reliant to a fault, and would much rather be the one giving than getting. So whatever this was must be important.

Eddie clasped his hands in front of him, looking up at her with pleading eyes. "Please tell me you have some cherries and condensed milk I can borrow. Frank really wants a hot dog and Howdy was fresh outta both of those."

An awkward silence, then the hound burst out laughing, relieved. "Didya really come all this way just to ask for that? You could've just asked Jonesy, I left him back at home."

The realization crumpled Eddie, and he hung his head in shame. Yes, he probably could've just asked earlier and saved so much of this hassle. But, fool that he was, he'd gone and overthought. Like a fool he'd made it 10 times harder on himself.

Barbie's laughter faded as she took in his reaction. She put a hand on his shoulder and sighed, "Well I'm sorry to tell ya, but I'm out too. I had my treat for today, but I'm prepared to go hungry for a bit."

And just like that, all his dreams had been shattered. He was so close to Paradise, but it had all been a mirage. Looking desperately over to Poppy, he was met with a shake of her head. "Dear, you know I don't eat things like that." Trying her best to reassure, she added "I-I'm sure Frank will understand. I mean... it's not your fault you couldn't find any."

Mhmm," Barbie hummed in agreement. "She's right. No, hey, look at me. She's right. You got nothin' to beat yourself up for. You tried, and that's what matters."

Eddie wasn't sure he believed them, but what else could he say or do by now? He'd exhausted his options, and would simply have to bear the anger, the crushing disappointment, that his lover would have for him. As he made his way home slowly, footsteps like lead, he was briefly considering swandiving into the nearest lake when the shaking of tall grass nearby caught his ear.

"Hey."

"Hey Mosely," Eddie said dejectedly. "Can't talk right now, sorry. Boutta go get my head bitten off."

"Ah, t-that's the thing actually," the grass continued. "I uhh...overheard what you were talking about just now, and I actually have some."

"Wha- really?!" Eddie instinctively whipped around to peer into the brush, then quickly apologized and turned away from his scopophobic friend. But was it true?

"Wait here. I'll go get them."

And wait he did. If it had been anyone else, Eddie wouldn't have trusted they'd come back. Even now he had his doubts, his nervous impatience as each minute ticked by. But he knew Mosely, and as soon as he'd fully begun to worry he heard movement again. He turned to see a can and jar stacked neatly on the dirt road, still cold when he went to pick them up.

"Thank you." Eddie's voice quivered, damn near sobbing with relief. "I could hug you right now."

"Haha... please don't," said Mosely.

The trip back went quickly. He snatched his groceries from Sally's fridge, checking first that no Julies were around (what an awkward explanation that would be!). Then he was off to the little yellow house with speed.

"Where have you been?!" Frank snapped when he answered the door to their mate. "And what's with the bags? I asked to get one thing for me, not all of this!"

"This is your hot dog," Eddie tried to explain weakly, already visibly wilting as the anger he'd been fearing bore down on him.

"How? Couldn't he m... huh?"

Words trailed off as the man before them seemed to crumple, sinking down to his knees as bags fell an uneven thud-and-rustle on to the floor.

"I'm sorry," Eddie began, hands again clasped in desperate prayer. "I am so sorry Frankie, I tried to go quickly. But then Howdy ran out of milk and cherries so I tried to get some from Barb-"

"Eddie..."

"-but then she was over at Poppy's, so I tried to go there but Sally stopped me to ask about a play and Julie forced me to answer riddles 'cus she didn't believe me when I told her ya wanted hot dogs-"

"Ed- wait Julie?"

"-And when I finally got over to Poppy's she was out which broke my heart 'cus I knew ya really wanted it and-"

"EDDIE!!!"

Frank had heard enough. Grabbing hold of his husband's shoulders, they pulled him forwards...

and into a kiss.

Eddie flinched in shock, then his arms wrapped around his love as he leaned in, finally breaking to rest his head on Frank's chest.

"It's ok honey," the grey chuckled. "I understand now. And you still got me what I wanted."

"I uhh...yea!" Eddie looked up at his mate with doe eyes. "You're not mad at me anymore?"

"Oh I'm still angry," Frank said as he helped their husband up. "But not at you."

Eddie was going to ask about that, but he didn't. Far better to not risk spoiling the moment when he'd seemingly gotten so lucky. "You still want your food now?"

"Mhmm!"

"Well alrighty then!" He practically skipped to the kitchen, feeling sunshine and rainbows right now as his previous worries melted in the loving presence of his partner. "I am sorry it took so long," he called through the doorway. "For what it's worth."

Frank laughed at this as he walked in and sat at the table. "Love, I was actually overreacting a bit. It's only been 15 minutes."

#Little Flame #welcome home #welcome home fanfic #frank x eddie #eddie x frank #frankly dear #franklydear #welcome home eddie #eddie welcome home #eddie dear #welcome home frank #frank welcome home #frank frankly #julie x sally #sally x julie #welcome home oc #stuff i said #Ember's art

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fea-resources · 2 months ago

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Unhinged Game Commentary As RP Starts Pt.5

Time for Dick Shots.

_____ is just a butt. He's a butt.

WE AREN'T DOING THIS HERE.

Are you two talking smack about me just cuz I can't understand ________?

What else are foreign languages good for? Just ask _______.

A lot of shit happened. A LOT of shit.

Its _______. A much happier ________. Also a much taller ________.

RIP ________. Wait. I better not say that.

As soon as that tank pops up I'm just gonna be "Nope, not gonna do this guys, not today."

NOT TODAY.

Not in the stars.

I love this area... up until Furry McFuckGoat.

Who is Furry McFuckGoat?

You'll find out who Furry McFuckGoat is.

You're in for a good time.

Wow, this ice water is so pretty, just... ROLL IN IT. It's just so pretty.

I'm the reason _______ dies guys cuz I gave him hypothermia.

How the fuck--

OH JESUS.

Y'know its a good thing none of these icicles have come off and fallen cuz otherwise you'd get skewered all to hell.

There it is, I KNEW it.

Across. Across?

ITS NOT ACROSS.

I Tarzan'd my ass right down the chasm.

Was that Furry McFuckgoat?

They're coming. Soon.

o h g o d.

*sings* More water that's cold as Hell~ HYPOTHERMIA~!!

HEEEEY. THERE THEY ARE.

Nope. Stay away from me. I don't wanna get hit.

OH GOD NO JESUS--

*sings* Get the Hell away from meee--*squeals* NO.

Oh dear lord-- I GOT STUCK.

DIE. PLEASE DIE.

MEMO TO ME. MEMO TO ME. DO NOT GO INTO THAT CORNER.

AH--

SWEET JESUS CHRIST.

*gasps* you'RE A DIIICK.

ANGERY GOAT MAN.

OOoooh my god. My chest hurts. From the panicking.

SO ANGERY GOAT PEOPLE.

We can look at how weird they are-- ...okay, I'm gonna look at how weird they are by myself then.

Guess we're gonna meet the whitewalkers, guys.

...'til you died to dead.

What if the ________ had like secret vaults or whatever that were insanely complicated to get into like this?

Nah he got them magnificent rabbit legs. He Jomp.

________, its time for you to learn an important lesson on being a ______: Hardcore Parkour.

Today is the day you learn to fly, boi. Go.

"Learn how to fly, boi." Wow, is this Lord of the Rings?

WOOOW okay, I don't know how that happened but I'm gonna take it.

RIP _________. May he forever grace the afterlife with his vibrating.

Yeah, there's the fun way out of here.

Furry McFuckGoat brought his friends.

Yank that motherfucker!

JEEESUS WHERE THE SHIT-- WHERE DID THAT EVEN COME FROM.

I-- somehow avoided that.

Theeey'rre heeerrreee. Angery goat people.

Death by Dickshot.

You missed Furry McFuckGoat, but not the ________.

Tanks for the heads up~ *wink wink*

Wanna know what I did all day today? Too bad because I'm gonna tell you anyway.

HQ to ______ -- HQ to _______ -- we have lost contact.

You're not fancy.

Fucking twirl!

Took that like a champ!

FuCK. I dropped the gun that I didn't want to drop.

Wow, you had to throw the gun that way?

Are you dead?

Peek your head out. I'm pretty sure you're still alive.

FUCKING EAT IT, SHITHEAD.

Wow, that was a fucking wake-up call.

NO, BYE, YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ALIVE.

Thanks for the grenade, I need it a lot more than you.

OVERSHOT IT, but whatever, so long as you die. Byye.

Are those bullets? yeeeah. Are those grenades? YEEEAAAAH.

WHO-- WHAT--

NO, YOU SEE THIS SHIT THROUGH TO THE END.

ZIG ZAG.

Oh... I don't like that metal on metal sound.

I think that was a kidney shot, I'm not 100% sure.

Oblivion. You're going to oblivion.

Wrong game.

ROLL. ROLL A LOT.

God damn, I do not appreciate being shot at.

Come on, I would think RPG is fucking universal language! do you have an RPG?!

Watching ______ shoot people is like watching them play duck hunt. (Insert annoying dog laughter at every miss)

Was that overkill? Maybe. Do I care? No.

AAAAIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

ZIG ZAG TIME.

FHAAAK MY LIFE YOU ASSHLE.

Its a tank, how scary can a cow on wheels be?

Hijack it. Hijack it and conquer your fears.

He went places.

RPG? PLEASE? RPG. GUYS.

RPG! NOPE. Its mine now.

Yoink.

Dramatic ass death. Clutching his chest as if he just got dumped by his baby blue.

Nice shooting, Tex.

Okay, he died. That's great.

Gottarun gottarun gottarun gottarun gottarun.

Its only death, _______, walk it off.

Oh, wanna know what I learned about myself yesterday? Too bad again because I'mma tell you anyway -- again.

How to kill an edgyboi trying to be an asshole in less than 3 seconds -- not take his insult as an insult.

OO-- AA--

We were beginning to think the 8 year old went feral and ate you.

Hey you never know. He might just do it one day. Children are statistically more likely to eat you than an adult.

Children are scary things.

I can believe it.

The entire time they were eating your fucking organs everyone else would be saying "AWWWW SO CUTE".

C A R N A G E.

Married people are wild, man.

I DON'T KNOW IF I WANNA DO THIS TODAY, I mean... first the tank, and then the cars, although the cars... I just... fucked them up. Just fucked them up, right off a cliff.

The couch is trying to eat me.

Oops-- YOU DIDN'T SEE /SHIT/.

Just threw ______ off the side of the cliff.

Took him out Achilles style.

Dodged that by the hair of your balls.

Let me see if I can... shove you... BYYYEEE.

I'm a vindictive bitch.

Bury him in the abyss.

Sounds like an old lady farting.

Goodbye to your legs.

Peek a boo with guns.

I would really appreciate it if someone would give me a grenade.

Man, he's rolling over there trying to be fancy. You're not fancy.

WOOOO, MAN, SHIT, FUCK.

You trying to gunslinger me? Heeellno.

Fancy feet.

Don't be like fancy feet, be an elite.

WHY ARE YOU ALL SO CLOSE TO ME.

No, stay your asses on that side of the bridge.

Stop giving me heart attacks over here, I don't need them.

Man, let me tell you, I would'a ended up throwing that up and I would've ended up throwing it behind me.

Did we say rope? We meant hope, as in an intangible thing that doesn't exist.

That went dark.

Not nearly as dark as my outlook on life. Or as dark as my prospects of a future. But who needs tomorrow?

I DIDN'T MEAN TO THROW MY GRENADE, WHAT.

There it go. Nyoom.

The void appreciates your contribution.

I'M STILL SO MAD ABOUT THE FUCKING GRENADE.

Look at them flappy flags -- how they so flappy? It cold as fuck.

Subtle? What's that. I don't know what that is. Not now, not ever.

The only thing subtle here is your ability to shoot everyone in the goddamn dick without even trying.

LISTEN, leave-- leave my aim out of this.

I will leave your aim out of this when you stop handing out dick shots like Halloween candy.

I believe I can flyyyyy.

Launch backwards.

Come here guy. Come hereee.

Bye. Jackass.

Maybe I should keep the SASS.

"______ you were supposed to be subtle." There was nothing subtle about this shit.

There was no reason for the yoink.

Drop down ______, Jesus, why did you have to be ExTRA.

Unfortunate. My jokes will be less appreciated due to ill timing now. Truly a tragedy in three parts.

Everyone named ______ is Extra.

Today you taught that man an important lesson... a lesson in flight and physics. And that lesson is that people can't fly.

Well I shot him in the dick and it might've been just a little too on-point.

Long Time No Fuck My Life.

hSSSSSSSSSS.

It didn't let me-- crap that time.

SHOVE THEIR CORPSES INTO THE ABYSS. AS VENGEANCE. THEIR SOULS CANNOT ASCEND. LET THE VOID CONSUME THEM.

You jinxed it.

I hate you for having that fucking good aim.

If I heard that in my last seconds of life, I would resurrect just long enough to kick them in the balls so goddamn hard they'd invert into a Y and never return to normal.

Mmmm gratuitous ass shot.

Where is the dragon sniper because I really, really, really would like to have it right now.

I wouldn't mind getting shot by you in real life as long as I got to hear some of this quality commentary before dying.

I think ______'s just a lil bitch and died of a splinter. Can take a hole in the liver but not a splinter. Anything but a splinter.

You said no -- but mommy said yes.

Better not-- Better fucking not!! ...Okay.

WHY IS THE BRIDGE JUST NOW BREAKING.

PLOT INCONVENIENCE.

Come on _______, squirrel your fucking way up there.

The amount of splinters...

Them pants are tighter than they are thicc.

YOU'RE ALWAYS SAYING YOU NEED A GRENADE, BUT WHEN THEY OFFER IT YOU'RE LIKE "Naaaaah".

(blu q. kazoo voice) SUSPICIOUUUUUSSS.

Hey ______... what brings you here... behind this crate?

That gasp of realization was the best.

No, that "FRUCK" was the best.

Heeeey did you drop your gun? No you didn't, you're an asshooole.

The eight year old ate them.

They got V O R E D.

Get outta here with that.

Gonna replace the word bored with vored now just for the fuck of it.

DICKSHOOOT. It was on purpose.

I need a word for dick that rhymes with shot.

Because that's average. Everyone expects "cock shot" but who's gonna see "shlort shot" coming?

I'm shlort sighted.

You killed me the last time and I did not appreciate that one bit.

If you're going to be launching 'nades, you gotta expect to get shot in the nads by the one and only vibrating Nate.

I'd be vibrating too if I was being shot at all day, my fucking nerves would be fried.

I did not like that-- that-- that was not cool.

I didn't see the rope and I thought you finally launched yourself. I was proud but also upset because that seemed like the most disappointing launch.

YOU SPIN ME RIGHT ROUND BABY, RIGHT ROUND, LIKE A RECORD BABY--

Twirl hunny twiirl.

Can't believe I wanted to hang with someone who can't even appreciate Skyrim Shuffle. What a disappointment of a stoner.

Just dies and flips into the void.

New test on anyone who wants to be my friend -- has to appreciate the Skyrim Shuffle.

I wanna die that way. Just be staring into the void debating my life, then suddenly "Bye Bitch". I'd start laughing. I'd die laughing before I hit the ground.

I'd die laughing on a roller coaster if my organs weren't shoved into my throat.

Prepare to be Swiss'd.

Are you firing stink bombs?

Shot his ass off. Literally.

NOPE. Get shredded.

BABY BELL IN THE HOUSE, BITCH.

A WHITE PERSON WHO DOESN'T APPRECIATE CHEESE? DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT BABYBEL IS.

Have you ever had double cream brie with black truffles? THEN GET OUT OF MY FACE, CHEESE HEATHEN.

That wasn't the ________ sound. That was the Furry McFuckGoat sound.

That's a god damn butt plug. A very sharp one.

Smooth things over with him via a shot in the back of his goddamn skull.

I slipped and it fell into the void. That's what you tell them.

I don't think they can use the void as an excuse.

IS THAT A PIG ON FIRE?

We've established that he likes me better than you.

God that'd be a great way to go... direct hit with an RPG. Just... feel something whack me in the back then KABOOSH.

Your bullet count was 69 there for a moment and that was pretty rad.

I'll boost you! Off the side of a fucking cliff.

Oh look -- its a life-sized statue of your ego.

Prepare yourself. You're about to get one of your many wishes.

Vore? Are you sure its not vore? That's a lot of mouths.

No its Furry McFuckGoat and his friends.

I'd SCREAM OF JOY IF MY THROAT WASN'T FUCKED.

You just got pounded by a furry. How you feel about that?

Just getting straight up gangbanged here.

I'd kill him so he didn't get the satisfaction of seeing it all. DIE, CURIOUS HOE.

I am a far bigger dick than the Russian.

Good aim for being stiff.

They're fucking dead and still better at aiming than you.

_______ WAS beautiful, til ______ ruined it.

There's always time to sight-see, you stupid slut.

Catch me enjoying the scenery outside the vehicle of my killer's vehicle. Catch me asking if we can stop and get a slushie at this nice slushie stand before I die.

He's a Russian -- he's already immortal.

#RP Prompt #RP Memes #Roleplay Meme #Roleplay Memes

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puppycak3s · 6 months ago

Text

Come On, You Know Better part 1

Warnings: this is just shameless smut so minors be gone🔞🔞, toxic relationship, hatefucking, kinda misogynistic Stan (he is an asshole), no use of y/n, afab anatomy mentioned but no gendered language, general freak shit you have been warned. Most smut will be in part two (i'm sorry i had to set the scene)

He threw his keys on the table as he slammed the door shut with his boot. Fucking stupid lawsuit threats, why can't a man just make an honest living selling products. He sat down on the creaky motel bed, putting his head in his hands. Stan knew there was nothing honest about any of the shit he was doing, but fuck if he cared. It's a dog eat dog world and he'd be fucked if he didn't at least try to make it, what else was left for him. Not like he had anyone at home to come back to. He leaned back until his head hit the dingy mattress, pulling his hands down his face in exasperation.

God he was fucking pissed. That was putting it lightly. His heart was still fucking hammering from having to run from angry customers. What did they expect? He gave them the product they asked for! So what if it stained everything blue, that wasn't his problem. He let his arms hit the mattress by his sides, huffing in frustration. He needed to do something or he was gonna start breaking the cheap shit around his motel room.

Stan had a go to for relieving stress but he was so sick of just taking himself in his hand, it was messy and degrading for him to have to take care of it himself everytime. He needed to fuck someone. Push someones's head into the mattress while he took out every frustration that had been building up for god knows how long. He could feel his cock twitch just at the thought, which only added to his frustration and urgency. He didn't have time to hit up a bar and take a chance on someone who might not even want to fuck him. Nor did he have the extra cash to spend on drinks to butter someone up.

He sat up again, running his hands up and down his well worn jeans. His stomach dropped. He hated himself for even thinking about calling you. It was pathetic. He was better than that, but as he lifted up the yellowed reciever and started punching your number in, he knew he wasn't. As the line rung, he tried to push down the feelings of guilt and utter shame. You might not even answer, or if you did you would tell him off for some indescretion he had done to you. He rolled his eyes, he couldn't keep track of shit like that anymore he had more important things to worry about than-

"Hello?"

He froze, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Your voice was so sweet over the phone, he almost wanted to hang up before you knew it was him who had called you, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins reminded him of what he really called you for. He gripped onto the knee of jeans with his free hand, working up whatever desperate courage he had left.

"Heya toots" he said apprehensively "been a while since uh-" he faltered a bit, he wasn't thinking with his head right now, he didn't know what to say to you. The last time y'all had even interacted ended in slamming doors and his ass getting kicked to the curb. The memory triggered the familiar distasteful feeling he usually carried for you. You knew just how much that hurt him, didn't matter whatever the fuck he had done to piss you off, he wasn't some mutt to be dropped on the street

He heard your annoyed sigh on the other end of the line. "What is it now Stan?". You sounded bitter. As if you of all people had a right to be. He steeled himself, taking a breath. "Yeah good to hear your voice too sweetheart" he said flatly looking at the shitty painting hanging above his bed. He almost was starting to regret even calling you. Almost.

"Listen, I just wanted to see if you'd maybe wanna..." he struggled to find the words "Catch up a bit? I've got some shit we can smoke if you're up for it." His hand tightened on his knee. Please please for the love of god say yes.

Another sigh, this one more in resignation, followed by a slight chuckle. "Miss me that bad, huh Pines?"

His knuckles were white now, if he wasn't careful he'd tear the worn denim. Your voice. Your condescending fucking voice, it made him want to fuck your superiority complex out of you. Teach you a lesson or two. "You tell me hun" a coy smile tugging at his lips. He could play just as dirty as you could. "I'm over at the Snapper Inn, room 4 if you really wanna find out." He knew just how to goad you on. It didn't matter that he was the one who called you, he knew just which buttons to press to make you almost putty in his hands.

A small beat of silence on your end of the line as you contemplated his offer. You both knew you'd say yes, just like he would if you had called him in a bind. Didn't matter how much y'all fought or screamed at eachother you always found yourself right back in his bed. Something about fucking someone who knew every bad thing you had done, every secret you had. Loved you to the point that it had soured into just barely tolerating you. Hated your guts, but knew exactly where to touch you, especially when he was in them? It made you want to make him grovel and eat his cocky words. Turn him into what you knew he was. A pathetic mess.

"Give me 10 minutes". You just knew he had a shit eating grin on the other side of the line. It didn't matter though, you'd put him in his place soon enough.

He hummed over the line, tsking at you in mock disapproval. "From where you are, you'd have to speed to get here that quick, someone that eager to see me?"

"Fuck you Pines" you rolled your eyes, he had no business reprimanding you when his ass had been to jail in more places than you cared to remember.

"Careful what you ask for, sweetheart"

AHDBSIDB I KNOW IM LEAVING IT OFF ON THE GOOD PART but trust me ill make a part two.

#gravity falls #stan x reader #stan pines #stanley pines #gravity falls stanley #Also dude idk what the Snapper Inn is bro don't think abt it too hard

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bluebellhairpin · 1 year ago

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i need to talk about this rn i'm sorry but i've been having baby fever and been thinking so much about erwin as a dad 😞🩷 (cw pregnancy)

firstly, he suspects you're pregnancy before you do. he's so observant and knows you so well, so when you start to look tired, or have cravings/aversions to certain foods you didn't before, he takes note. what seals it for him is when he notices your pet (let's say a dog) clinging to you. of course they like you, but now it seems they don't want you out of their sight, might even growl whenever he tries to touch you in their presence. and of course, he notices if you haven't yet had your period (he doesn't even need an app he just remembers your usual time of month) but of course he is considerate that you may want to surprise him, and he is gracious enough to be surprised and over the moon with you when you tell him because of course the confirmation is better than the suspicion. he does admit to knowing already later on, but how can you be mad that he pays attention so well??

and when you get rounder, you learn quickly the baby has a preference for his voice. if the baby is hiding from you in the belly or keeps kicking when you want to rest, they only listen to his voice, he'll say something like "Be kind to your mother," and the child will literally stop and you're just like " •_•"

also he will absolutely hire someone to help with cleaning and cooking while you recover postpartum, make sure you don't have to lift a finger for anything besides the baby and your own wellness. even after the first couple weeks and the person he hired is gone, he'll still do most of the cleaning and cooking while you recover because he understands that while you focus on cariny for the baby, he has to focus on caring for you. he will also want to be involved with learning about how to best care for the baby as much as possible (he becomes a master at burping 😌)

and the first time you guys drop the child off at daycare, he's pretty straightfaced and serious to anyone looking at him, gives a quick hug and a kiss to his little one but mainly focuses on making sure everything is accounted for in their bag and lunchkit. the staff might think he's too cold and aloof to be so unemotional about his child's first day at daycare, but what they don't know is that the second he gets in the car and out of the kiddo's sight he puts his hand over his face and starts weeping softly, holding your hand so tightly with the other because his baby is getting so big so fast and he's proud but also sad after hearing them cry as soon as you both walked out.

he just becomes the most wonderful father and husband and loves his family with everything he has ☺️🩷

ik I told u like two days ago I was letting this cook and I'd answers that night but OOF i forgot. however i've enjoyed being reminded each time I went into my ask box! I read though it each time! loved it so much! anyway i'm gonna pop som thoughts below so this doesn't get too long for the poor people who don't wanna be Erwin's baby mama's lol <3

cw pregnancy for below

I very much headcanon Erwin as an observant man, so I 100% agree with the notion that he notices you're pregnant before you do. the food tastes changing, the sickness (the dog! (in my little world there's a dog! (his name is Atticus))) - the notes it all away but the little shit says nothing. he might partially be being considerate and letting you tell him, but i also think he isn't above waiting how long it take you to figure it out after he does. it's like a little bet he has with himself lol

AND THE BABY LIKING HIS VOICE ofc my child would only listen to Erwin smh. that's kinda so funny to me though, I love that idea. maybe Erwin spoke quietly for a while and the baby was real still, you kind of panicked a little, but as soon as Erwin went "oh my god, What?!" the babe went wild as if to say "oh, daddy is here! yay! he didn't leave us alone!" bc yk. the baby is a little shit too just like it's dad.

He also totally doesn't like the idea of you lifting a finger. he says your body is busy making a whole human being, don't you dare make him dinner too, making it himself is the least he can do. I also firmly believe afterwards he's a very hands on dad. yeah perhaps he'll keep some hired help around for the days where e's not there, but when he is there? you're surprised he isn't run off his feet. the man has so much energy for being so chill and stoic. he'd be out here being dad, mum, housekeeper, cook, taxi AND CEO, and still cuddle up to you at the end of the day and wanna attempt to ENTHUSIASTICALY put ANOTHER baby in you.

thEN the picture of him breaking after dropping your kid off for their first day! my heart! he is such a softie. big fucking teddy bear. full of marshmallows and clouds. he can look cold and aloof all he likes but we know the truth. we've seen him cry while watching both The Good Dinosaur and Bluey. he can't hide from us.

#cw pregnancy #thank u for giving me your baby fever. i don't need it or want it. but it's alrought when it's with erwin.#nemo answers #bnuyy <3 #erwin smith x reader

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pjo-obsessed-nerd · 1 year ago

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OMG JULIAN RICHINGS IS EVERYWHERE I LOVE THIS MAN

He's so creep, but he's so good

HAH ANNABETH COMING IN CLUTCH

Percabeth power couple, yes pls

"It's either the realm of the dead, or someone left a carton of milk in there in to 1990's" nah, but that's the fastest way to make me gag about a smell I can't smell 🤣

THE RED RUBBER BALL

"No one comes baaaaaack" I love this man so much ❤

"I just think it's safer if I'm not the one holding them all." That's fair. ya know, as someone who drops her phone regularly, that's relatable.

Those pearls sound ✨ c r u n c h y ✨

IT'S THE SCENE - BABY PERCY 😭😭😭 aww my baby I just want to hug him. I can see it now, I'm gonna bawl like a baby in a few mins

"Not in Kansas...", "Hey, focus, we left Kansas four days ago." Reminder she hasn't seen a movie, points for continuity ❤

Grover squeezing that ball omg

Poor Grover, it's ok 😭

"Only suckers wait in line" 🤣🤣

"You're not dead.", "I mean, we're all dying... To some extent." He's a comedian 🤣

The silent whistle admittedly gave me chills; I can just see the horror on Annabeth's face. CERBIE!!!!

Run

CERBERUS LOOKS SO BEAUTIFUL OMG HE'S EVEN MORE GORGEOUS THAN I IMAGINED AHHH

GROVER NO

i just screamed a little... Oh, my sister is gonna cry

aww, Cerbies TOO cute, the little whines omg I'm gonna DIE. Annabeth giving him scratchies aww even though she's terrified. Percy is impreased

I am a Rottweiler lover at heart, so I'm just obsessed with Cerberus I'm not sorry

OH GROVER EW; Thank god he's okay

Oh, ik how they get separated I bet 😭 JUMP SCARE OH

Aww Annabeth threw him the ball such a good puppy omg

Is. Is Cerberus wearing a leather jacket? Or is that leather armor? I can't tell 🤣

Annie lore drop 🥲 grovers so impressed tho

IT HAPPENED IT HAPPENED IT HAPPENED AHH

"I think it's... It's in the dog." His name is Cerbie. /jk

Percy, baby, what did you draw that upset someone so much? He's just a BABY. I WILL FIGHT THIS HEADMASTER TOOTH AND NAIL IT'S A PEGASUS SIR.

Grover, stop guilting yourself sir

OH jeez what tf.

Man I guessed Asphodel, and I was fucking right. My Mythology teacher would be so proud. This is such a haunting take on Asphodel omg. That's terrifying.

run

WHERE ANNABETH

NO SHE'S STUCK NO SWORD SWORD CUT IT CUT CUT CUT KNIVES PPL YOU HAVE KNIVES USE THE KNIVES

"I trust your dad." Athena ain't gonna be happy about this one, ladies and gents. 🤣🥲😭

Annie's gone, and i stg if we lose grover I'm done

GROVER

PERCY MOVE IT

Nah, Riptide looks sick tho. Pretty sure that's the first time we've seen it in good lighting

THE BOLT

so r we not gonna see Hades..?

"Is this?", " No.", "I, I mean it looks like-" "it, it absolutely is not.", "Okay. So... what is it then?", "Yeah, that's the master bolt!" This exchange was so funny 🤣

The pieces r fitting together... Hehe

"Zeus is just gonna have to wait." HELL YA, STICK IT TO HIM, GROVER, THAT'S MY BOY!!! Grover reminding Percy exactly why he chose Grover, his best friend, to come on this quest in the first place. ❤

Sad Baby!Percy 😭 that's a lotta ice cream for such a tiny boy

"Why are you trying so hard to get rid of me?" GOD MY ABANDONMENT ISSUES HAVE BEEN TRIGGERED, I NEED TO PROTECT THIS CHILD FROM THE WORLD NOO

"I would never do this to you." THE LINE DELIVERY, GET THIS BOY AN OSCAR... AND A FUCKING HUG

sally avoiding the topic and crying, I wanna hug her too. She's trying so hard.

Hades palace is gorgeous, damn.

Are we gonna get to see the Furies again???

Percy's hands must hurt from how hard and how constantly he clenches them fists damn.

Who tf-

HADES IS SO NOT WHAT I EXPECTED. I was expecting a rocker dude, but I love the "silk robe, manicured hair". Man's got class.

"I admire the cut of your jib." Ok maybe not what WAS that 🤣

He's way less scary than I expected, tbh.

Is he wearing heels? It sounds like he's walking in heels

SALLY'S A GOLD STATUE NOW??? Sally reaching out for him 😭 I'm done. I'm done.

"What did you do to her?" I can sense the rage coming

Percy 😭

babe, Hades was so confused. He just wants to be left alone, such a mood tho. Percy's so confused

PIECES. P I E C E S. IT'S A PUZZLE PPL

"But that voice, it definitely did not sound like you." That an insult or a compliment, I deadass can't tell 🤣

Ok... Hades is being very generous, but what's the catch here? This feels sus. Oh. There. Run. pearls. now.

"Hold fast, mom." HOLD FAST MOM YESSSSSS

Sad Sally 😭 What's happening rn

NO. NO. IS THAT

I'M GONNA SCREAM. WATER DADDY- sorry

"Tell me why", "you don't wanna hear why." Fair, fair 🤣

Nah, Poseidon's actor fits the bill so well in my mind. Like. Mm.

Poseidon rlly does care.

"His mother raised him well." Damn right!

OH THIS FIGHT FINNA BE SO GOOD

Hehehehehehehehehe

IT SO GOOD AHH I'M GONNA SCREAM NEXT EPISODE O. M. G.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy and annabeth #percy jackson show #percabeth #grover underwood #pjo tv show #leah is our annabeth #percy and grover #percy jackson fandom

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