#one hc for every will + an extra hehe

[bylertruther]

♦ will will will will will will will WILLL

thank u, thea! :D

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

i'd first like to say that my life was irreversibly changed the day that someone pointed out will has glasses in his room. so, just keep that in mind.

when / if he starts wearing glasses regularly, i'd like to think that his general fidgeting when nervous would extend to those, too. like, he pushes them up whenever he gets flustered or is trying to lie about something, and it quickly becomes one of his most obvious tells.

i think he'd be fastidious about keeping them clean, too. you will Not catch him slipping!

he has to resort to some... interesting and genius engineering when they inevitably break.

he gets into making little flipbooks out of sticky note pads. (he makes one for dustin about his dnd character and dustin ofc keeps it forever.)

el does the baking and will does the decorating. (that is, if they don't eat all the frosting first.)

people headcanon will as a night owl, but i think he'd be an early bird. i'm taking him being bright eyed and bushy tailed in 3x03 while lucas and mike are dying as my proof.

will was born a gamer, lived as a gamer, and will die as a gamer. fifty year old will is out there with hella consoles and games still playing dnd and he literally Does Not Care what anyone has to say about it. mf has multiple screens too like you cannot fuck with him you CANNOT !

i think he dips his toes into painting and sculpting and other artistic mediums, but pen/pencil/graphite/etc and paper will always be his main squeeze.

this one's sad, but i think that will gets more expressive bc he's used to being invisible. so when people Do notice his behavior he's like ??? what?? you can see me? and you actually give a fuck? huh. as if he isn't sitting there rolling his eyes and sighing and throwing himself back against the cushions and exhibiting the saddest most kicked puppy face known to man and literally bursting into tears 24/7 being as subtle as a kick to the face.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。take my time (i’ll spend it all on you) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo sees you in lingerie for the first time. 

contains: f!reader, suggestive almost nsfw (they make out… maybe a bit steamy), 18+ just in case, reader is in lingerie, shy feelings!! gojo down bad!!

a/n: i hc that the first time gojo sees you in lingerie, it’s like seeing you walk down the aisle—he’s a bit sappy like that! i also think that he’d love seeing his lover in pink! idk! it’s just the vibes! (col reader would look cute in pink too i think hehe complements the personality!); takes place later on, around col #4 (wip)

collection masterlist: conversations on love 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace? <- you are here -> +04b (extra). if you're ready (let me) + 04. these traces of love, they outline you

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

There are few things in life that have earned Gojo’s double take: 

A sign for a newly-opened gelato shop with ‘exclusive flavors for the first 30 customers!’ written in fine print; Megumi, back in middle school, being confessed to with a sweetly handcrafted box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day; a small cut, right at the tip of his nose from that time you sparred with him and he let you get too close (or so he says). 

And now you. 

In something pink—

—that if he backtracks just a bit, steps one foot behind the other to glance again at the space left open by the bedroom door, and squints—

He’s certain, 200% sure. 

It’s lingerie. 

He blinks once, twice, rubs at his eyes even as his mind attempts to catch up to whatever it is–you–he just saw. This must be what wires feel when they short circuit. 

You know he’s home, right? You have to, you just told him to rinse the dishes after snacking.

And he was in the middle of doing that—walking across your apartment from couch to kitchen, stopping only to do a double take at the sight of pink in his periphery, at you, once he looked again, clearly. 

Or were you doing this on purpose? Did you want him to see you? 

He gulps, warmth spreading from the tips of his ears down to his neck, lingering. 

There’s only one way to find out, really. 

He walks down the hallway leading to the bedroom, keeping his footsteps light so as to not startle you.

If he’s being honest right now, his mind is full to the point of feeling empty—too many thoughts swirling around the fact that behind this very door, he’s about to find you in pink lingerie. 

And when he takes a deep breath, fingertips pushing on wood very slightly as he calls out, “Bab—“

“S’toru!” you squeal from the other side, panicked as you instantly push it back closed.

So you didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Sorry, give me a minute!” you call out, and he can hear your footsteps from the other side, frantically walking around for what he can assume is you looking for something to cover yourself with. 

But he doesn’t want that. 

Not when he already has the visual of you, pretty in what he suspects is pink lace.

Not when the way you said ‘S’toru’ sounded so much like ‘‘Toru’, your ‘‘Toru’, the way you usually say it pressed against bed sheets, under him, expression blissed out from—

Do you have any idea what that does to him? 

“Are you wearing lingerie?” 

You freeze. Gojo can tell from the other side of the door, and you think, damn it, because he isn’t supposed to know you bought a set, much less see you in it. Not yet. 

You could try to lie, but Gojo always sees through you, through every change in inflection, the way your eyebrow twitches before speaking. 

“Can I come in?” he asks softly, almost hesitantly. 

How can you possibly resist him when he speaks to you like this? Asking permission as if this space you live in isn’t as much his?

You sigh, flustered at being caught this way, “Can you close your eyes first?” 

He follows, laying one hand over his eyes for good measure before knocking on the door. You open it slowly, wood creaking as he steps inside. 

You feel a little naked right now despite how he isn’t even looking your way, opting to face the side opposite from where you’re standing. It’s on purpose, you know, he can tell where you are—Six Eyes and all. 

There’s a smile that he’s hiding, biting his lower lip to stop it from showing. His toes are wiggling from the excitement coursing through him.

You know Gojo will like you in anything; in fact, he’s made it very clear that he prefers you in nothing—but still. Your stomach feels queasy and you can’t get rid of how nervous you’re feeling. 

And you guess, it’s really just because this was meant to be a surprise for him—the design you’ve chosen, how it looks on your body, how it looks to him, especially. You’d ordered the lingerie set months in advance to leave a lot of time for returns, whether it turned out ill-fitting or just unflattering.

You didn’t expect him to catch a glimpse of it now, months before his birthday, before you were even ready. 

“I’m waiting…” he teases, voice sing-song in that way he usually does to annoy you. It always makes you smile though, and it’s an odd form of comforting with how it dulls your jitters right now, just a little bit.

“Okay, you can look.” 

As soon as he turns, you squeeze your eyes shut, hands on your sides as you fiddle with your fingernails. Seeing, knowing his reaction in real time is still nervewracking, regardless of every reassurance you tell yourself—because, what if this is the off-chance that you’re wrong, and he doesn’t like it? 

Or worse: what if he has to pretend he likes it?

You frown a bit—it doesn’t help at all that Gojo isn’t saying anything.

But—

How can he, when there are no words, no adjectives, no possible descriptions to articulate what he’s seeing—what he’s feeling?

If he didn’t die then, in every instance he’s brushed with death: by Toji’s hands, locked up inside that box, in that final moment with Sukuna, nearly halved—

He thinks he might have just died right now. 

Because this? You? In lingerie as pink as all he’s feeling—his cheeks, his nose, flushing down his neck, maybe even his chest if it were exposed. 

It’s heaven. 

You’re a sight. 

While Gojo has certainly seen you in much less, and done with you things much more than just stand with you like this, he’s never seen you in lingerie.

And you’re so pretty. Sexy. All his, he can’t believe it.   

He’s noticing all the little details on it–on you–its shade, almost salmon with a bit of baby pink; its material: sheer net as the base for everything—it’s practically see-through save for the delicate floral lace running across the bra cups and panty front.

The set itself is nice, sure, but he knows he only likes it this much because it’s on you. And he knows he’ll always like anything on you. 

The heat in his stomach is building, spreading, to the single part of him that—

“Is it that bad?” you scrunch your nose, eyes still closed. He looks at you confused, before he realizes: he hasn’t said anything.

He chuckles and you open your eyes, pouting. 

And God, he wishes you didn’t do that. That look on your face—what it does to him.

“I ordered it in advance for your birthday,” you start, pout deepening as you ramble on, “it was supposed to be a surprise, but if you don’t like it, I can still–” 

That’s enough. 

He can’t believe that you actually think he doesn’t like it. 

Gojo steps into your space, close enough to grab you by the waist as his other hand reaches up to slot itself in the area between your ear and your jawline, tilting your head up slightly as he leans in to kiss you. 

It’s rushed at first, almost desperate—hungry, the way he releases his breath only to take you in; your lips, soft in the way he knows them to be, his hand on your waist squeezing. Your fingertips trail to his cheek, almost cupping as his kisses turn deeper, more languid, lips moving against yours slowly, savoring. 

Gojo is a fast learner, and he shows it best in the way he kisses you, as if he’s memorized every way to build that familiar heat within you. You lay your other hand against his chest, gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulls you closer. 

You bite his lip and suck, just a little bit, the way he likes it, and he moans, lowly, vibrations rippling through your mouth as he holds you steady. He’s hard already; you can feel it pressing against your lower belly. 

And you realize, as a small laugh tears itself away from you, how ridiculous it was for you to even worry. 

You break the kiss, leaning your forehead against his as you keep your noses touching. It’s impossible to tell how Gojo looks, but you have a hunch with how he’s breathing so heavily; the skies in his eyes must be darker, almost gray, turned on by desire—the same one settling deep in your stomach, aching, needy. 

“It’s perfect,” he whispers, lips grazing yours. He traces hearts by your shoulder, something born out of the many times you’ve lain in bed together, playing with the strap of your bra before pulling, a short snap! as he lets go. 

“You like it?” you whisper back, a lilt in your tone, teasing. Your fingers come up to trace his lips and he holds them in place, nipping. 

“Mhm,” he grins, smoothing his hand over the lace details on your bra, his thumb rubbing, “so pretty.” 

He leans in again, a small peck, before asking, “Does this mean I can get my gift now?” 

You laugh, hitting his chest, “It’s not your birthday yet!” 

“Yeah, but what is time anyway?” 

And you know, with the way he’s trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking—you’re going to have to find another thing to surprise him with on his birthday. 

.

Later that evening, with your head lying right on his chest, you remember. 

“Oh yeah, the set also came with one of those belt things. Garter, I think? But I wasn’t sure if you’d be into–” 

You’ve never seen Gojo get up from bed faster.

thank you notes: for that anon that asked about whether col reader wears lingerie! + @stellamancer @soumies @crysugu for validating me that pink is in fact col reader's colour ᰔ i also just luv u guys 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

UR...SMUT...IS...AMAZING... COULD YOU DO headcans of 141 and Kõnig and their fave sex positions? Thanks!

Hehe, thank you! I'm not super confident with it, but I appreciate all the support and compliments!🩷🩵

Added a little extra to this one!!! Did a general hc!

141 + König Favorite Sex Positions/ How They Enjoy Sex

Warnings: sexual references, swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

MISSIONARY!!!!!!!

Simon's not a particularly rough lover, especially given his traumatic past, so to him, there's nothing better than being on top of you and taking this slow

That's not to say this man doesn't go HAM on you sometimes. If he gets horny enough, or stressed enough, this man will POUND you into the mattress

Huge fan of eye contact during missionary, too

He doesn't get too experimental, but he'll try just about anything if you ask

He's a giver 100% and loves to go down on you

He'll very rarely ask you to go down on him, but won't ever say no if you offer

He's primarily the dominant partner in bed but will let you take control every so often

Takes sex seriously, and before you, I honestly don't think he was one to just sleep around

NOT a fan of quickies. Liles to draw the pleasure out for both of you for as long as he can

Gets HORRIBLY embarrassed if he cums too quick if it's been awhile since you two had sex, and will make it up to you 10 times over

König-

YOU ON TOP!!!!!!!

König is very conscious about his size and has fears he may crush you in bed, so he prefers if you're on top

If you get too tired, or don't want to be on top, he'll pull you to the edge of the bed while you're on your back, so he can fuck you while he's standing

Took you two while to have sex for the first time, I stan this man was a virgin before you, and he was very nervous

If he's feeling particularly kinky, he'll carry you so your legs wrap around his waist, while he fucks up into you (preferably in the shower)

Man has a raging size kink

LOVES giving and receiving oral. Let's just say he's very skilled with his mouth

You are the dom in bed. Again Königs always worried he'll crush you, so you have to take the lead

Constantly reassures you that you're doing well, that you're beautiful, and that he loves you

Makes you feel so good about yourself, both in physical and emotion ways

Man will NOT let himself cum until you do first. And if he happens to cum before you, he'll apologize profusely

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

Literally any position, just please fuck this man

If he HAD to choose, mating press is probably his favorite

LOVES the way you feel, squeezing around his cock while he's pushing your legs against your head

Is totally up for trying new positions. In fact, he probably looks some up in his free time that he wants to try

Also, it isn't opposed to toys. He prefers to get you off on his own, but he won't protest if you want to add in something extra

If he ever goes down on you, it's with you sitting on his face. He loves being suffocated by you

One of his kinks is role-playing, and if it's something you're into as well? Oh boy

Be prepared to laugh during sex with him. He doesn't take it too seriously and just wants to have fun with it

When he does take sex seriously, it's usually a very loving affair. He'll be overly gentle as he whispers sweet words in your ears

Overall, he's a very fun partner to have in bed. Sex is never, ever dull with him

John Price-

Doggy. Doggy. Doggy. Doggy.

Drives him fucking wild

Also thoroughly enjoys shower sex

He's such an ass man, so it's the best angle for him to get the perfect view of your ass while simultaneously pounding into you

If you have longer hair, this man will definitely be using his hand as a makeshift ponytail to yank on while he fucks you

Isn't opposed to you being on top, and he won't last long if you do reverse cowgirl. Again, this man is an ASS man

Raging Daddy Kink (obviously)

Honestly? He's a mean dom, but will never go far enough to where it truly hurts you

Handcuffs, blindfolds, whips- this man is here for all of it

This man will RARELY let you take the lead. He's a man of control and likes to show that in the bedroom outside?

100% will make you beg him to let you cum

Loves, loves to spank you. Drives him feral when he sees his hand prints on your ass cheeks

Will most definitely take it slow if you ask, man has a wicked romantic side

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

Truly believe this man "makes love", and doesn't "fuck", at least not habitually

He LOVES having sex with you when you're both in bed, laying on your sides

Enjoys leaving love bites all over your neck and chest. Likes to know you're marked as his

He's fairly "vanilla" in bed, he just doesn't understand the appeal of all the toys and "extra stuff"

But he NEVER leaves you feeling unsatisfied

He will work for hours to get you to cum if that's what it takes

100% a soft dom. Doesn't like making you do any work unless you absolutely want to

He's not necessarily opposed to trying new stuff out, he just gets nervous

Firm believer that your first time with him, was on a bed covered in rose petals, he wanted your first time with him to be special

Like the others though, if you ask this man to fuck you senseless, he would, but not often

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Am I writing too much smut? Feel like I should be throwing some fluff in here🤣🫡

Also, I wanted to note again that I'm doing my very best to keep all of these GN, unless gender is specifically stated in ask! If I slip up anywhere, please don't hesitate to tell me!!🙂🩷

[rueclfer]

heyy there can i request some more touya headcannons? i really enjoy your way of picturing him because it’s just so canon and he’s kinda a lovely dick y’know. whatever comes to ur mind. thank u so much!!

weelll since you gave me so much freedom here r some touya as a housemate hcs ANNDD a moodboard bc i enjoy the visualization <3 since we talked abt this the other day too !! (i yapped so hard here sry sry this is so indulgent)

bakugou's and sero's version too hehe

housemates // touya todoroki

touya hates the idea of living with a complete stranger or one of his siblings, so what other option does he have other than forcing his best friend (crush) on a lease with him?

the newfound freedom definitely puts him on his ass for a few weeks. barely sleeps. eats like shit. trash is scattered everywhere. several unpacked boxes. it stays like this until fuyumi comes over to check our the place and gives you two a hard scolding to get your shit together.

more often than not, you'd end up waking up on the couch with your legs sprawled out across his lap and his upper half leaned over the couch arm rest in deep sleep. staying up so late was probably one of his favorite things about living together. being able to talk as loud as you wanted, watch movies late into the night, look over the city from your balcony- he found solitude in existing with you.

if he wasn't already codependent before moving in together, just know his ass will be GLUED TO YOU. you'd be doing work in your room and he'd barge in and flop down on your bed without a word. maybe he'd gotten a bit too comfortable.

if he's feeling extra annoying that day, he'd bring in his guitar and amp and keep asking you to rate his riffs until you entirely give up on work and give him some attention.

is it obvious his love language is quality time? not only that, gift giving too. he's like a fucking crow.

"look what i found. it's a rock. for you."

makes him soooo giddy to see your display of the rocks, feathers, and dried up flowers he picked up for you on his walk. sometimes you'd come home and there'd be a new addition to the ever growing collection.

ofc you'd return the energy in a different way. touya will not cook for himself. ever. he eats like shit as an internal rebellion against the healthy diet he was forced upon as a kid, but you will not allow that boy to rot himself from the inside out!! he can expect several tupperwares of portioned out meals with notes attached to the lids if you know he'd be home all day by himself.

"to t <3. if you don't eat every last bite i'll find out and it'll hurt my feelings and i might combust into flames or something idk don't risk it!"

i can also imagine him holding back tears whenever you ever come into his room to hand him a bowl of cut up fruit. the first time you do it he'd be speechless like jaw dropped taken aback. has he ever felt love like this??? i think not.

despite all of the kind gestures, he's still touya todoroki. hides your keys if you annoyed him that morning by rushing him in the bathroom and makes you a few minutes late to class/work. chronic door slammer. pisses with the door wide open. no sense of privacy and do not gaf to knock. always locking himself out -> i feel strongly about this like imagine coming home after a long day and he's sitting out in the hallway with a pouty face waiting for you hehehe.

i don't think he'd realize this crush until a few months after you've moved in together. how could he when you two practically already act and bicker like an old married couple?

yes- peanut butter belongs in the fridge. no- it doesn't. stop leaving your socks everywhere. you forget to flush again. stop slamming the doors. you ate my chips, didn't you? don't lie. did you really need to put the mugs up that high? (he does it on purpose, and tightens the lid to every jar too.)

it wasn't until one late evening when he comes home to find you frantically mixing a doughy substance in a large metal bowl. you never bake, but you have your own oven now, so why not?

"god, finally. help me, my arms hurt." you groan, shoving the bowl in his hands. "i think i fucked up."

he sees the hurricane aftermath of your kitchen- flour everywhere, egg shells left on the counter, every single jar imaginable opened and scattered around. he could be teasing you about the mess, but god you looked so beautiful with that stupid wrinkle in between your eyebrows as you read over the recipe, and the streaks of flour across your pant leg from wiping your hands, and the way you swipe away the stray pieces of hair falling in your face with the back of your hand- oh fuck.

he thinks he's falling in love with you.

he swallows it, but he starts acting kinda weird around the apartment.

like he's.... avoiding you?

living with his best friend whom he just so happens to develop a crush for, would eat him alive. he locks himself in his room and chain smoke out his window while he's stressing the fuck out. he told you he'd stop smoking, but he's sure you'd understand the need for it right now. he hopes you can't smell it.

i also think he'd be a stress cleaner lmaaoo he cannot sit still with his thoughts for too long, so the headphones are ON and blasting and he'll definitely use that as a scapegoat + the loud ass vacuum for ignoring you if you try to talk to him while he's on this cleaning frenzy.

you think he's sick LMAO imagine the pain he feels when you come knocking on his door and calling out that you're leaving a bowl of soup and cough medicine outside his door for him. he doesn't tell you that yeah he's sick but *not in that way*

lovesick. that boy is lovesick!!!!!!

how do you avoid your housemate while you figure out how to control your feelings?

he confesses via note that he leaves on the kitchen counter. really simple tbh nothing too extravagant, but he signs off by telling you that he's staying crashing at fuyumi's for a couple days.

you text him a string of obscenities to get his ass back home and he does (he's scared of you).

he CAANNOOTT talk about his feelings in an adult way. he is sitting on the complete opposite side of the couch, twiddling his thumbs, and staring down at his feet like a child while you reread his confession note out loud to him. you find his discomfort hilarious but endearing. he finds you unbearably insufferable.

jesus the amount of times in that apartment where he would storm off to his room whenever you two got in an argument or you pissed him off...old habits die hard, you guess, because this isn't the todoroki household anymore and you aren't scared to lose that deposit and kick a door down.

once you corner him and get him to open up about his feelings the air in the room suddenly shift!! the clouds are clearing and the sun is shining woooowww look at what good communication can do.

sharing an apartment with your BOYFRIEND is no different than sharing one with your best friend. i think he'd like to keep your separate bedrooms to have your own space, but you'll rarely sleep apart.

so! many! new! traditions!

helping him dye his hair on the first saturday of every month. biweekly horror movie marathons. counting the communal piggy bank ever couple months. trying new takeout spots until you find THE spot for every category- chinese, pizza, ramen, etc etc.

and finally, an everlasting mark on your first apartment together: a small carved out heart around your initials left on the inner corner of a kitchen cabinet done with his pocket knife on a random weekday evening while you two are cooking dinner together.

-

touya tag: @moonchild701 @kaldurahms-lover @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 @ggriwm

[mooooonnnzz]

Hi I just wanna say I read the Dad! Stanley hcs you did and it was sooo goood I loved every bit of it.

I was wondering if you could do a bit of an angsty request where Stanley's child is in there late teens an gets possesed by Bill, like what do you think his reaction would be, since when dipper got possesed by bill, bill physicaly injured dippers body a lot and was just genuinely careless with his body. Also I have no idea when the reader would be possesed by bill mabey after Ford is back to make things extra angsty since ford knows of bill, idk do whatever you like with this request I just like angst with for no reason whatsoever.

Also I did try to find if you had any request rules but I couldn't find any so if you do have rules and this request is something you don't feel comfortable writing then please just ignore this request, I hope you have a brilliant day or night :D.

Another thing I just wanted to mention is I'm sorry for how long this request is.

Far From The Weight of The World

Dad!Stanley Pines x Teen!Reader

❀ 9,1k words its a loottt so if ur ready to hunker down and read a whole bunch this is for u!!

❀ guess who finished far from the weight of the world THIS GUYYY

❀ it wouldn't have ever seen the light of day if it wasn't for @raventeen they helped me sm!! like they helped every single step of the way and chose the direction of where this should go so big thanks to them <3

❀ i hope you all enjoy this! :3

❀ possible tw: description of skin melting off, throwing up blood, self inflicted harm, more blood, uhh broken bones? even more blood

❀ gn!reader

❀ i love dad stan pines smmm

❀ requests r still open hehe

“Sweetheart!” Stan’s footsteps could be heard thumping on the ground towards you. You marched forwards, your throat painfully knotted in a ball, suppressing your sobs and swallowing your words. Your head swirled with the word liar, spinning around hastily. Whispers of Mable and Dipper could be heard distantly behind you, their concerned eyes digging holes right through you. Too swept up by your wind of emotions you ignored their worried looks. 

“We can talk about this, kiddo. Just give me a second.” His fingers curl against your arm but you yank it away before he’s able to wrap them around you. “What do you want, Dad?” You promptly turned around, glassy eyes somberly staring into his wide ones. “Can you please give me a chance. Hear me out,” his voice cracked at the end, his hands twitching to desperately reach out to you and prevent you from taking another step further away from him. “I don’t know If I can trust you, Dad.” Uttering that sentence shattered something within you. Not once have you thought of yourself ever telling your very own dad that you don’t trust him. He had never given you a reason to distrust him. To you, all his past lies were seen as truth to you, undeniable facts that couldn’t be broken apart because his word carried high validity, to you at least. But now, you’re not even sure that he’s telling you the truth right now.

Ford’s heavy shoes sounded on the creaky wooden floors, announcing his presence wordlessly. “[Name], dear. Listen to your father.” He adds. He looked at you with an analytical stare, twisting your stomach inside out. You didn’t like how he looked at you like you were one of his captured anomalies, inspecting you and reading your tense body language, anticipating for the second where you’d act out of pure emotion so he’d supply you with meaningless words that held nothing but empty hope to burn out the flurry of emotions that ran rampant inside you.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, Uncle Ford.” You spat out. He was the last person you wanted to hear anything from. From time to time, you’ve begged him to tell you what exactly is going around here yet he’d always brush you aside, dismissing whatever you’d ask and move on with the next thing that gripped his attention. “You never wanted to say anything to me until now.” 

Ford, not expecting your answer, stumbled with his words. He shakes his head, almost as if he’s expelling his shock with the shakes and regains his composure. “[Name],” he starts off with a stern tone. “You are acting purely on your emotions. I need you to compose yourself and talk to us when you’re relaxed enough to form a proper sentence that doesn’t have you snapping at us.” 

Your jaw gawks open. “So you’re telling me that I shouldn’t be feeling upset over this? 

Ford clicked his tongue, a twinge of frustration oozing out of him. Everything you’re saying is going off the script Ford had curated in his head. He’s rendered useless as he scrambles for words he can put together in a sentence that’ll feasibly flip your train of thought around and convince you that the way you’re acting is irrational. 

Ford waved his head side to side, unsure with his answer. Stan noticed the apprehension shrouded on Ford’s face and he silently signaled to him to not say what he’s about to say, already knowing that his poor choice of words was going to send this whole situation right on its back. Too stubborn for his own good, Ford stood his ground and opened his mouth much to Stan’s clear distaste of him speaking his mind. 

“Yes but no.” You grit your teeth together, eyes narrowly staring daggers at Ford who looked seemingly pleased with his response.

Stan gulps nervously, taking a cautious step forward. “Sweetie, don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. He doesn’t know what–” 

“--You’re telling me that I’m overreacting? I have just found out that my dad has been lying to me since the moment I was born! And to make matters worse, you all are hiding things from me. None of you are bothering to tell me what the hell is going on here. Why are we all so secretive? We all promise to tell each other everything, no more secrets, no more lies! What happened to that? You all know something and I have a right to know as well!”

You heaved out a ragged breath, words spilling out of you in a madden rush. You held down your tongue for too long. Long nights of sneaky meandering had left you scrambling all the pieces they had discarded on secrets of Gravity Falls together, solving and answering all the questions you laid out for them but chose to ignore. All the lies Stan had fed you over the years concerning this supposed lazy town was unraveling right in front of you. What else had he been hiding from you? What other filthy lies had he pushed on you that you so mindlessly believed? 

Stan’s mouth flounders, stammers of jumbled sounds spilled out. His arms are rendered at his side, stunned with your outburst. “I thought I was protecting you.” He whispers, his fingers flexing anxiously. “Dad! This whole summer has been nothing but crazy. I didn’t know that we had half of those monsters in our woods because you lied to me and told me that it’s been my imagination. What if I had gotten close to one thinking that it was all in my head, and the beast mauls my head off. What then, Dad?” 

Stan deflates. Lost for words, he runs a hand down his gray hair. Thinking about finding your bloodied body sent full body chills down his spine and his stomach lurching. He never sat down and thought of the consequences of what he told you. As long as he said that it was all in your head, he thought you would’ve strayed away from them. 

“I’m going outside. Maybe some stupid gnome would actually tell me what’s going on here because nobody here wants to even tell me anything.” The door slammed shut, causing everything on the wall to rattle and almost tip over. “Oh,” Stan drooped his head onto his palms, tears swelling in his eyes. “I really screwed up here.” He whispered to himself, his voice crackly and small. 

Ford patted his back and Stan believed for a quick moment that Ford was going to say something so beautifully uplifting that he’d see the brighter sides of things, but he tells him, “When are you not?” and continues to pat his back.

Stan violently shrugged Ford’s hand off, his hand pushing Ford away from him. “Really, poindexter?” He scoffs, walking off into the living room where Mable and Dipper watched the whole scene unfold. “I thought it would offer some comfort!” He defeatedly argues back, a dejected sigh escaping him when his eyes meet Mable’s watery ones and Dipper’s disappointed glare. “Kids, I—“ Mable swiftly turns her head to the side, mumbling something under her breath as she ambles up to her room. 

“I’m going to find them.” Stan walks in, slipping on a jacket to shield him from the cold. “I’m coming too.” Ford reaches out to grab the doorknob when Stan’s hand stops him from doing so. “I don’t think they want to see you right now.” Stan gingerly shoved Ford out of the way, leaving him to his thoughts as he shut the door behind him. Cursing to himself, Ford rams his foot on the door angrily. 

Venturing far into the lush woods, you grumbled bitterly to yourself. You couldn’t even trust your own family to tell you something so simple. How utterly pathetic is that? 

You fought the urge to punch a nearby tree and continued on, getting yourself lost in the natural maze of the forest. You wanted to get as far away as possible just so you can find time for yourself to cool down. After a while, the cold air started to nip at your exposed arms. The hairs on your body stood up as a cold shiver rippled through you. Hugging yourself to provide some warmth you found yourself sitting on the grassy floor, back leaning against the bark of the tree. 

The soft chirps and squeaks of the animals brought a sense of calmness over you. These woods have been declared dangerous by Stan and for the longest time you never went out here without Stan hovering behind you or Soos mindlessly meandering through the woods with you. Your hands swayed across the green blades of grass, focusing on the itchy feeling that ran through your palms rather than the bitter cold. The faint whistles of the wind swirled around your ears and out around you. Has this forest always been so peaceful? Leaning your head against the trunk of the tree, you closed your eyes shut. Relishing in the comforting nature the woods provided you. 

“Sweetheart?” Your eyes shoot open. “Dad?” Your heart quickens, your head whipping around rapidly. “Sweetie?” Stan’s voice grew closer and closer. The sound of the grass crunching and bending under his steps resounded throughout the quiet woods, his calls becoming more frequent and louder. How did he find you so quickly? 

A shadowy figure, one you’ve grown to recognize, stepped out from the shade and presented himself. “[Name].” Stan sweetly calls out, kneeling down beside you. “Dad? What are you doing here?” 

Stan smiled, opening his mouth but all that came out was a raspy breath. “Wha–” Your voice hitches in your throat. 

Stan’s skin started melting off in a disgusting mess of bubbling flesh. The side of his face became a drooping mess and a crazed cackle left his lips. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, kid!” He points a boney finger at you, melted flesh sludge dripping from the bone. You scramble back, terrified screams ripping out of you. 

“W-What is going on?” You push yourself up from the floor with your hand, bile coating the back of your throat at the horrid sight of Stan’s bloodied flesh sploshing to the floor. “I’m just playing tricks on you!” With a snap of his finger, Stan poofed away in thin air. What took his spot was an ominous floating triangle with a top hat. “Well, well, well, look who it is, [Name]! I knew we'd cross paths sooner or later. I gotta admit, I'm thrilled!” His eye crinkled in a joyous smile. 

“How…” You blinked dumbly at the floating triangle. “I’m dreaming, right?”

“You sure are, kid!” 

A wave of recognition passes through you. This was the god Ford was talking about in one of his journals. Your knowledge of him was not much, but from the tidbits you have read, Ford had admired this god. He went as far as to calling the triangle his muse. What was his name? Wasn’t it– “Bill?” His name spills out of your mouth. “Ah! So you do know about me?” He tilts a little in your direction, his hands clasped together. “Hear anything good?” A glimmer of forlorn hope shimmers in his eye before it’s washed away with an inquisitive look. “I-I think so? My Uncle really liked you from what I had read in his journals.” You squint your eyes in thought.

“Oh, he really liked me.” Bill’s charmed voice had entailed that there was more to the story than what was told but he didn’t give you time to mull over that thought before jumping into the flow of another topic. “But that’s all in the past now, right?” He snaps his fingers, a comfortable looking chair appearing before your eyes. He floated down on the chair, kicking his legs up and crossing them. 

“I heard that a little someone has been lied to, isn’t that unfortunate?” The corner of his eye pulled to the side, almost as if it was a sadden frown. “How did you know?” The chair poofs away.  “I see everything, kid!” His hands fall to his sides and he slowly leans towards you, his eye pulled wide open. Flashes of images you couldn’t quite comprehend flickered by in a brisk montage. “Everything.” He draws out. “Anyways, I've got a deal for you. You give me, I give you. Sounds fair, doesn't it?” 

You raise a brow. “How can I trust you?” You rolled your fingers around the grass, delicately pulling on them. 

“Your dear Uncle Ford trusted me!” He shakes his hands enthusiastically. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, still not convinced. “You literally pretended to be my dad and melted him right in front of me.” Bill put his fists to his sides, huffing out like a little child. “Can’t a triangle have a little fun here?” He rolled his eye dramatically. You eyed him, skepticism evident on your face. “I don’t know…” You plucked out a few blades of grass from the dirt. “I feel like if you wanted to gain my trust then you shouldn’t have done that.” You crumpled up the grass into a little green ball and tossed it at Bill. The ball passes through his body. 

“Maybe you’ll change your mind once I propose the deal..?” Bill’s eye stretched out and morphed into a mouth with his lips puckered. He whistles out a tune you can’t recognize and innocently kicks the air. “Go on,” You wave your hand out to him. “If you make a deal with me, everything that you’ve been wanting to know will be revealed to you. All you have to do is shake my hand.” He extended out his hand, blue flame engulfing it whole. You blink your eyes in surprise. Was it really that easy? “There’s no catch?” 

Bill’s fingers trembled in anticipation. “None whatsoever!” 

You could trust him, right? Ford had trusted him! Bill even confirmed it himself. And with what you read, Bill had been giving him infinite knowledge. Feeding him thoughts that no one else had thought of before. He did manage to build that portal and come to think of it, wasn’t it triangular shaped? Was that Bill shaped or were you reaching? You think for a minute more, weighing the pros and the cons. Biting your tongue, you looked at Bill. Bill made a deal with Ford and he’s still alive and well, so how bad could it really be?

You bite the bullet and grasp onto his hand, the flame trailing towards you and consuming your hand whole. A maniacal laugh rips through the air and the world stills. The color drains around you, unpleasantly welcoming you to a monochrome world. “That was just too easy!” Bill wipes a tear from his eye, his firm grip on your hand never wavering. “W-What do you mean?” You tried forcefully pulling your hand away from Bill’s iron grip but it felt like your whole hand was encased in stone. No matter how hard you tried prying yourself away from his hold, his hand still didn’t budge. His eye twists into a pleased smile, his fingers thumping against the edge of your palm gleefully. 

“Was I an idiot for trusting you?” Your words came out in a quiet whisper. You can feel the life being sucked out of you as Bill drew his hand back. “Yes! Absolutely!” He said with a cheer, yanking his hand back suddenly, pulling you out of your physical form. Bill wasted no time taking over your body. He rose up with a delighted laugh, his hands running down your body, taking in the new but familiar feeling. “Wow!” He pressed your palms on your lower back, stretching out your back with a few gratifying pops. “It has been so long since I’ve possessed someone!” Cracking your fingers, he turned over to your floating form with an eerie smile. The world bleeds back into its colors and the soft tranquil sounds of the forest flooded your ears. “Funny how we switched places, huh?” 

You let out a shaky breath, your mind relentlessly battering you with words. How was this even possible? How could you be so foolish? You couldn’t even comprehend any of this. Bill moving around and using your body was terrifying. That was physically you and right now, he was joyously ramming your fist into the tree. You can see the skin on your knuckles rip and tear, blotchy patches of blood tainting the light bark. A light tingle of pain buzzed on your knuckles but it went away as quickly as it came.

“You’re so easy to injure! How weak are you?” He observes the damage eagerly, making your finger pinch on a frayed piece of skin. He twisted it and pulled it back, lightly chuckling to himself as he watched pearls of blood bead up from the now exposed skin. “Bill, stop!” Out of instinct, your hand went over to swat his arm away. A cold gust of wind flows through you as your hand phases right through yo–Bill. He stopped, plucking off the skin and flicking it aside.  “If you keep hurting yours–, I mean, me! They’re going to wonder what happened.”

“Not if I tell them that you got attacked!” He said in a sing-song voice, his eyes keenly looking around for anything else that’ll harm your body. “[Name]!” Stan’s voice rung in the air, pulling you and Bill from your thoughts. A sinister smile tug at Bill’s lips as an idea fills his head. Your stomach flips inside out. Discreet grunts and groans seized your attention and you whipped your head over to Bill climbing up a tree. “What are you doing!” Your hands fly to your hair, gripping it tightly. 

“Breaking the bones inside this meaty vessel, duh.” He hoists himself up on a thick branch. “Would a fall from this height kill you?” Bill ponders out loud, shakily standing up. “Are you seriously going to do this!” Your eyes darted from Bill sticking out your foot from under you to the direction where Stan’s voice could be heard. Bill lets your question float up in the air and with a child-like shout, he jumps off the branch, keeping your legs straight. You look away, unable to witness Bill carelessly treat your body like a toy. 

A stomach turning snap sounded in the air. “[Name]!” Stan’s distressed voice alerted you.

You whip your head around to see Stan cradling your body. Bile crawls up your throat upon seeing your twisted leg limply hang on the other side. “Sweetheart? What happened?” Stan’s words rushed out in a flurried frenzy. You slapped a palm to your mouth, anxiously awaiting for Bill to slip up and sell out his identity to Stan. “I don’t know…” You hear your very own voice leave your mouth. Bill’s agitating voice was nowhere to be heard. Vomit fills your mouth and you fight every muscle in your body to not spew it out. “I was just laying on the tree, not doing anything when something attacked me. I…” Bill allows a few tears to cascade down your face before continuing. “I thought I was going to die, Dad. I was so scared!” He dramatically sobs onto Stan’s sweater, purposefully grazing your shredded bleeding knuckle on his jacket. 

A gasp swelled in Stan’s chest. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I-I…” He harshly shuts his mouth closed, his pupils shrinking upon seeing your bloody knuckle. He was at fault for this, if he had never lied to you, if he would have just told you the truth from the start, you wouldn’t be so injured. Silently he carefully picked you up from the floor. To sprinkle a little more dramatics on the show Bill had out for you, he hissed out in faux pain, shooting your hand to your bent leg. Stan cringed, his eyes avoiding the general direction of your broken leg. “I’m sorry, baby.” He weakly muttered, his eyebrows pinched firmly in worry. 

Stan trekked through the thick foliage with your body curled in his arms. He dodged under branches that stuck out and sidestepped the stones that protruded from the ground. The entire walk was in silence, aside from the periodic sniffles coming from Stan and quiet hiccups. All you wanted to do at that moment was wrap him in a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you weren’t even so sure of that yourself.

When Stan approaches the front door of the shack, a wave of conflicted emotion flickers through Bill’s eyes before he closes his eyes abruptly and goes slack in Stan’s arms. 

Stan chokes out a garbled yell for Ford. He heaves your body over his shoulder, twisting open the door with a slam and barging into the shack. “Stanley?!” Ford frantically ran over to Stan, his hands gesturing wildly at the sight before his eyes. “Th-They passed out in my arms! I don’t know what to do, Stanford!” 

You grapple at your face, desperate to make sense of what’s happening. You watch with a heavy heart when Mable and Dipper scramble to Stan’s side, troubled voices speaking over one another trying to understand what happened to you and to ask if you were dead. Their frantic cries and yells chaotically fill the silence in the shack. Ford yelled over their voices, instructing Stan to quickly settle you down on the couch so he could conduct a proper examination on your wounded body. All Stan could do is go along with his commands, mind hazy with borderline delirium as he stumbles towards the living room. 

“Dad,” you whisper, your fingertips grazing through him. You hold back the sob that scratched at your throat. This can’t be happening right now. 

Cracking an eye open to your direction, you can feel Bill’s sleazy smile draw on your face. Your stomach shrivels up in disgust at the sight. His yellow eyes gleamed under the dimly lit shack as he stared at you. Mable’s rushed steps drew Bill to close your eyes. “Grunkle Stan! Please tell me they’re okay!” Mable has the collar of her sweater pulled up to her mouth, her never ending stream of tears staining the sweater. “Mable. Give him some space.” Dipper murmured, holding Mable back as he tensely watched Stan lay you down. 

Ford eventually came in with a first aid kit. His appearance looked a little more disheveled than before. His hair was strewn about and ruffled, glasses crookedly sat atop of his nose and one of his sleeves was rolled up and cuffed while the other one was untouched. He sucked in a harsh breath upon seeing your split knuckles, dried blood crusted around the wounds and raw skin. The gashes reminded him of his own busted up knuckles when he was possessed by Bill. Alarm signs flared in his face but he batted them away, chalking it up to your injuries being caused by whatever animal had attacked you in the woods when you were alone. He treated the lacerations with antibodies and meticulously wrapped your hand in medical gauze. Gently placing your hand beside you, he looked over to your broken leg, holding a bated breath. Broken bones weren’t his favorite injury to heal since it takes extensive time off from anything physical and you having a broken leg at a time like this wasn’t ideal. He just needed to find ways to heal your leg quickly. 

“I need you all to leave the living room.” Ford clapped his hands together, dragging a hand down his fingers. “W-What, why?!” This was the first time Stan spoke in a while and it surprised Ford. Clearing his throat, he answered: “Because I can’t focus with your eyes hovering all over me. I-I need to think and if I’m going to treat their leg, I need you all to leave.” Against everyone’s wishes, Ford ushered them out,  leaving him alone to fully think about possible treatments he could have you undergo to heal your leg. 

You didn’t have a good feeling about leaving Bill alone with Ford. They had history with each other and having a past with someone like Bill doesn’t seem like a good thing. 

“Fordsy…” 

Ford’s body physically recoiled inwards at the familiar nickname. His head darted around the room, helplessly searching for the owner of the voice. He can’t be here can he? That voice just sounded so eerily similar to yours, but why would you call him Fordsy? Blood pumps in his ear drums, obstructing his hearing. 

“Sixeerrr.” His fingers curl around his arms. The light glow of horrifying unforgettable eyes glimmer in the corner of his eyes. He turns over to see you sat up on the couch, a smile stretched from ear to ear as Bill’s eyes shone into his. Ford’s blood ran cold, his mind swirling like a whirlwind. “Bill?” His heart pounds behind his rib cage. 

“The one and only, Sixer.” Hearing Bill’s voice crackle through your own instilled despair all over Ford’s body. Taking a wary step back, his shaky eyes watched as Bill threw your legs down the couch, your left eye flinching closed as pain shivered through Bill. He severely underestimated how much pain your leg would cause him. To fight against it, he slammed your leg on the floor. Pain jostled through him, a shuddering sigh blowing past your lips. The aching pain overtook your leg for a moment before it relented into a numbing buzzing feeling. “Much better!” He stands up, smiling broadly. 

Ford sucked in a stuttering breath, his eyes fleeting over to the hallway. “What do you want, Bill?” 

“I don’t know…” He rolled your head in thought. “Maybe the rift to the portal? It’s a crazy thing to ask, I know!” He laughs to himself. 

You wanted to bash your head on the wall. This was the reason why he made a deal with you. It was because of a stupid rift. You’ve only heard bits and pieces of the importance of the rift, but you knew it was serious business with how you heard Ford talk about it in passing. You need to find a way to stop Bill. 

Ford sneered. “Try all you want, Bill. But you’re not getting the portal.” Bill rolled your shoulders, earning a few noisy crackles of your bones. Ford tenses up, readying himself for the fight that’s about to pursue when Bill charges towards him, side stepping him at the last second and darting out of the living room. “Haha! I got you!” He teases, hissing out in pain when he applied too much pressure on your busted leg. “Stanley!” Ford yelled out, stumbling over his own feet as he ran after Bill. Hurried footsteps stomp down on the stairs, panicked talking and breaths littered the air. “[Name] is possessed by Bill!” A chorus of “WHAT?” echoes in the house. 

He skids to a stop in front of the open vending machine. Ford tugged on his hair, mumbling to himself in shock. How does he know the password? Wasting no time to dwell on that, he pads down the stairs. His stomach lurches forward when he notices Bill step inside the elevator, a snarky smile on your face as he turns around and waves at Ford. “Bill!” He launches himself forward, missing a few steps of the stairs and landing on the ground near the elevator. He trips over to the closing elevator, his fist slamming on the door as it shuts. 

“Ford, what is going on?” Stan pants out. Ford rapidly presses the elevator button, anxiously watching as the elevator dinged on down to the bottom. An idea passes through your head. Mumbling a self-motivating sentence Mable had showed you, you dived straight through the floor, phasing through the other two rooms and landing in the lab room. As stupid as it sounds, you’re going to repossess your body back.  

“Bill, he–he has [Name]!” Ford delivers a punch to the buttons, knocking the plate off its screws. Stan’s face contorts into a mixture of anger and concern. “He has what!? How the fuck does Bill have [Name], Ford!” Ford rested his forehead on the wall. “Now’s not the time to freak out, Stanley!”

Stan clenched his fists, grinding his teeth together. “It’s the perfect time to freak out, Stanford! Bill has my kid!” 

“Bill has [Name]?” Mable’s shrill reverberated through the empty staircase. “Kids, you can’t be here!” Ford warns, shooting out his hand to stop Mable and Dipper from getting any closer. “We want to help, Grunkle Ford.” Dipper sternly said. “That’s a funny joke, kid.” Stan chuffs out dryly, his attention snapping towards the elevator that was now rising up the shaft, dinging with each stop. “It’s not a joke!” Dipper dipped under Ford’s arm and stood in front of the elevator, Mable following in suit. “Stanley, do something!” Ford gestures to Mable and Dipper who are unmoving from their spot. Stan scoffs, dismissing him with a flick of his wrist. “They’re already here, Stanford. There’s no point in stoppin’ them now.” 

With a loud chime, the elevator pulls back its doors. The twins were the first to step inside, whispering to themselves as Ford and Stan walked in. Mable rushes over to the panel containing three buttons and using her tippy toes, she slams the last button with the palm of her hand. The elevator registers the destination with a slight rumble and shuts the door closed, leading them down to Ford’s lab. 

Ford could see Stan’s harsh breathing and clenched fists out the corner of his eye. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, he steels both him and Ford with: “We’re going to save them, Stanley.” Stan breathes out, teetering his head back with his eyes shut. “I hope you’re right about that.” 

The elevator quivers to a stop, the doors creakily pulling open. The four of them step out of the elevator and into the lab. “I was expecting it to be destroyed down here.” Dipper comments. 

Through the protective window, Ford could see Bill fighting with himself, your body laying limp for a few seconds before revving back up to life. He watches the cycle repeat for a few more times before shaking his head. “He’s outside.” He advises everyone. 

In a blink of an eye, Stan was already out into where Bill was, blowing countless angry questions at his face, his eyes shifting everywhere but at you. “Woah, woah, woah!” Bill took a cautious step back as he watched everyone circle around him, caught off guard with the sudden intrusion. “Don’t get your underwear in a twist, haha, am I right?” 

Pure and utter silence. 

Bill’s smile falters. “Okay, touch crowd!” 

“Cut the crap, Bill. Give me back my kid!” Stan grunts out. “I can let them talk to you! After all, they’re up here.” He taps the side of your head. “Stop messing around!” Ford takes a step toward Bill. “Don’t come any closer!” Your own voice filters through Bill’s interdimensional voice. Ford hesitates in his steps, sharing a cautionary glance with Stan. Shuffling your hand behind you, he pulls out the shimmering rift. “I will break this!” He threatens, flipping it upside down. 

Ford narrows his eyes at Bill. “You would’ve done so by now. What’s stopping you?” He motions Dipper and Mable to sneak past Bill and hide behind him, just in case he decides to do anything that’ll compromise the rift and you. “Nothing!” Bill strains out, trying to wiggle the rift out of your grasp. Ford takes notice of your white knuckles and connects two and two together. You’re somehow fighting against Bill for your body. “Fascinating…” 

“Aghh! Why can’t this stupid kid let go!” Bill grumbles, using your other hand to scrape at your clenched hand. He scratched and clawed until the skin on your hand was red and raw. “Is [Name] currently fighting against you?” Ford inquires, a delighted smile on his face. “W-What? No!” Bill plucks your pinky finger off the rift. “See! I’m in total–” Your body jerks forward, and for a slight second, your eyes glinted back, only for you to be propelled backwards. With a shake of your head, your eyes blink and Bill’s eyes are back on you. “[Name] is a fighter, that’s for sure!” He awkwardly laughs out, still regaining control over your body with how he waverly stumbled side to side. 

Taking advantage of his vulnerability, Ford sent a quiet signal to Mable and Dipper. The twins tackle Bill from behind. A startle yelp leaves his mouth as he falls forward. “Stanley the–” Stan was already swooping in and snatching the rift out of your hands in one swift motion. Bill's face planted on the floor. “This stupid weak body!” Bill whines out, having your hands buckled tightly to your back by Dipper and Mabel. “Get something to tie their arms together with!” Stan said, jogging back into the lab, discreetly hiding the rift away from Bil’’s prodding eyes.

“I was so close!” Bill pressed your face into the dirt. The sharp tiny stones cut into your cheek and all Bill could do is focus on the itching pain rather than the humiliating feeling of being pinned down by two twelve year olds. Ford grabs the rope and securely binds your wrists together. The twins finally shuffle away from your body, watching Bill struggle under the restraints. “I’m going to be traumatized by the end of this.” She lets out a dejected sigh. “I feel like nothing can phase me after this.” Dipper adds. 

“How are we going to get them back into their body?” Stan questioned Ford who was double checking the bindings on your wrist, making sure they weren’t too tight to burn your skin off but tight enough to keep Bill detained “I think I have an idea on how…” He breathes out, looking over to Stan, face full of unease. “But it might not work if everyone isn’t present.” 

Stan found himself staring dumbly at the diagram that Ford had etched into the dirt with a stick. “What is this?” Ford finished the final symbol within the diagram, discarding the stick behind him. “A zodiac diagram.” He says, dusting off his hands. “And what does this have to do with saving [Name]?” 

Ford spares a quick glance over to you. Mable and Dipper sat on each of your sides, keeping a careful eye on you as you alternated with yourself and Bill. Dipper’s face contorted into a painful expression whenever you’d jerk your head upwards, a random assortment of words spilling out of you before your head flies back down. That agonizing process continues for what feels like an eternity and he could clearly see the toll it’s taken on your body. Stan couldn't make himself  watch you suffer, biting his lip so hard blood builds up on his lip.

“Yes.” Ford curtly nods his head. “I had always hypothesized what this would be used for but It never occurred to me until now that it could be used like this.” 

Stan doesn’t like the slight sound of uncertainty in Ford’s tone. How could Ford be so sure that it works? “So, you’re telling me that you have never done this before?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” He shrugs, pushing up his glasses that were sliding down his nose. “Don’t worry about whether it works or not. We don’t have time to think about what if’s.” Curiously eyeing the symbols on the floor, he pondered in his head. Who could possibly stand on what zodiac?

Mable had walked right next to Stan, she looked like she had something to say when her eyes fell on the diagram, her eyes shining. “That one reminds me of Wendy.” She points at the zodiac that was an ice bag. An idea dawned upon Ford. “Does it now?” He kneels down to Mable’s height. “Mable, dear. Can you look at these zodiac signs and tell me who they remind you of?” 

Mable was quick to point out and tell Ford each symbol that reminded her of a person. Jotting down all the names in his head, he began calling each and every one of them, stringing Mable along to help him convince them to come over to the Mystery Shack. One by one, they all started pooling in. Questions sprouted from one mouth to another and every single time, their questions received answers when their eyes landed on your struggling form.

“Okay, everyone stand in your respective spots and hold hands!” Ford’s voice was quiet in the distance. Stan had found himself kneeling in front of you, his expression unreadable but his eyes carried a deep sorrowful guilt to them. “Feeling guilty, Stanley?” Bill drawled out, pulling your heavy head up, only for it to be knocked down to the side. Your body was growing weak and Bill was tirelessly fighting against it. Unbeknownst to Stan, you were right next to him. Your unrelenting attempts to gain your body back had caused an aggressive strain on your body. You couldn’t stay in it without feeling utterly exhausted, allowing Bill to abuse your weak spot and take over your body. But that weak spot had also applied to him as well. You were trying to regain your breath before you’d try again. 

“Can it, Bill.” He scoops you up from the floor, walking towards the diagram. 

“You don’t have to do this!” Bill aggressively barked out, throwing himself around in Stan’s hold. “I do have to do this. You’re in my kid's body.” He grunted, throwing your body over his shoulder. “They made a deal with me! I won this body fair and square.” Bill argued, hammering your head down on Stan’s back. “Look, I just found out about you not too long ago. But for someone who was supposedly this all powerful demon, you pathetically really weak.” 

He approaches the diagram, setting your body down in the middle. “That’s because I haven’t revealed my true potential yet!” He struck the back of your head hard on the floor, causing your vision to go bleak for a moment. “Do you really need to do all of that?” You grumble, rubbing the back of your tender head. “I do what I please.” He mumbles to himself, rolling over on your stomach. 

Standing in his spot, Stan locked hands with Ford and Soos. “It’s most likely going to feel weird! Stick it through and don’t, I repeat, don’t let go!” A blinding blue light shoots up from the middle and travels through the lines of the diagram, illuminating the place in a bright blue light. 

“No!’ Bill writhed around. He could feel himself slipping away. Your forehead makes direct contact with a rock. He smiles at it, knocking your head against it again. “Oh, Billy! You are just full of ideas today.” He whispered, shuffling over to the stone to the point where he was hovering over it. He laid your head down, feeling the cold stone press against the middle of your forehead. Breathing in through clenched teeth, he raised your head up high. He nailed your head down on the rock, splitting through skin. You could feel the ghost touch of blood trickle down your forehead. 

He laughed crazily as he continued to bash your head onto the rock. With each blow, the rock was painted with more and more blood. He was going to kill you at this rate. Bill lowered his head back down on the rock and you shut your eyes closed. You weren’t going to see Bill crack your head open. But the blistering pain never registered, peeking your eyes open you saw Stan had caught your head in his hand. 

Ford yelled out Stan’s name but Stan ignored it. His chest rapidly heaved in and out as he fell to his knees, resting your dazed head on his lap. You had noticed that Bill was slipping out of your physical form. Darting over to him, you grabbed his hand and ripped him out. Before you could hear Bill’s flurry of cries, you dove right in, repossessing your body once again and hopefully for the last time. 

Grumbled groans escaped you as you regained all your senses. You jolted up in striking pain. Everything hurt, even more than the last you took over. Your stomach rumbled, a flood of whatever liquid shot up into your mouth. You leaned to the side, expelling the fluid. Peeling open your weary eyes, you felt yourself grow nauseous at the pool of blood in front of you. “[Name]!” Stan grabbed your face, directing it toward him. He looked at your eyes and a look of relief settled on his face. “Dad?” You groggily said, your whole world spinning. “Are you okay? Is that demon gone? Where is he?” The massive load of questions made you want to vomit all over again. 

I’m still here! Bill’s grating voice grinding against your brain. You crumble under Stan’s hold, your head thumping in pain “No. He’s still in my head.” You felt another rush of blood clamor up into your mouth. You meekly shove Stan’s hands away from your face, hurling another dump of blood. Cautious voices sounded all around you, your vision distorting in a blurry mess. “Dad?” You forcefully focused your eyes on Stan’s face. “I think there’s something wrong with me.” Talking was enough to strip you away from all the energy you had left and you weren’t sure you had enough time to say anything else before Bill took over again. 

“I know, baby. I know. We’re goin’ to get help, stay with me. Please.” Stan said something to Ford you couldn’t quite catch.

You felt his arms wrap around you and lay you down back on his lap. I’m going to kill you. You scratched at your aching head. “His voice hurts. Hearing it hurts so much.” You murmured, feeling a hand run down your arm up and down soothingly. “Stay strong for me, sweetheart.” A light kiss was pressed on your forehead. 

You cried out, feeling yourself being pulled away. 

“Stanley! Come back now!” You could make out Ford’s scream at Stan. The world was fading before you and you couldn’t help but break down as you heard Bill cackle in your head. Stan saw your eyes flicker to yellow and he delicately placed you down on the floor, running back to his spot. Bill seamlessly takes over, blinking himself awake as he’s shuffling your body up to your knees.

“This is all your fault, Stanley Pines. [Name]’s death will be on your hands!” He bellows, purposely allowing your voice to break through. The strenuous action causes him to tremble forward, blood splattering on the grass. Bill started yelling nonsensical blabbers, anything that would make Stan budge from his spot, to stop the whole process but he stayed put, directly staring Bill down. Bill fell to the side, coughing up bile and a random assortment of fluids. 

In a flash of blue, you feel yourself fully grounded back into your body. A feeling you feel like you haven’t felt in forever. 

A grinding yell echoed in your head. You are so disgustingly weak! Bill screamed in your head. Another splitting headache bore into your head but all you could do is lay there and take it in, feeling so worn-out and droopy that you weren’t able to physically react. I didn’t do much and you’re dying! I did all of this for nothing, for nothing! And it is all your fault! I should’ve broken every single bone in your body and twisted your neck. At least I would’ve gained something from that! You are so useless! 

He was wreaking havoc in your mind. The blinding pain subsided to a lingering pain, black dots swarming your vision. He seems to be doing last minute damage before he’s left with no other choice but to leave your body. With a rugged distorted babble from Bill, your whole world went dark. 

The waiting room was cold, so numbingly cold. Stan casted his gaze down to his hands. Your blood had stained them. He couldn’t tell if it was the blood from your forehead, or the blood you vomited out. But your own blood had been smeared all over him and it made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t erase the image of your cold limp body laying on the grass, face covered in streaks of blood. This was all his fault. If he had just told you how things were from the start, this wouldn’t have happened. You would’ve been next to him, chattering his ear off about something irrelevant while asking him multiple times if he was listening to you. Despite his thoughts, your soothing presence wasn’t there to console his mourning heart. 

Your doctor had came in earlier to share the state that your body was in. Everyone listened intently to her words as she described the damage that Bill had caused to your body. She said doctors were so mortified with your condition, labeling it as one they have never seen before with how many injuries you sustained on the outside and inside. Stan and Ford had to dodge some questions that had the doctor fired at them, excusing your evenstive wounds with a slip off a mountain, silly teenage activities that almost cost you your own life. She didn’t buy it. 

The doctor's slight graphic description of your injuries only cemented the guilt deeper into Stan. He was a bad father wasn’t it? The only thing he prided himself in for doing right was so easily taken away from him in a blink of an eye. He really was a screw up. Ford and his Dad were right. 

“Stanley.” Ford’s hand on his shoulder withdrew him from his thoughts. “We need to go home. It’s late.” He looks briefly to the seat next to him. The twins had sat on the same seat, their muddled expressions were no longer on their face, instead they were sleeping peacefully, heads leaning against each other. “The twins are asleep.” He tells him. Stan’s gaze glued on his tainted hands. “I’m staying here.” He weakly said. “You need sleep, Stanley.” 

“I can sleep here, Ford.” He snapped, expression tight. “They are going to kick you out.” 

Stan shrugged, clasping his hands together. “Then they’d hafta kick me out then.” 

“I’m not leaving you here.” 

Stan leaned his head back against the wall, huffing out. “I’m not in any mood to fight with you here.” Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his burning eyes. “I’m staying here and there’s nothin’ you can do about it.” He placed his glasses on his lap and crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he shifted around to get comfortable enough to sleep. “Always been so stubborn.” Ford shook his head, getting up from the seat with a light groan. “I’m leaving.” He picks up the slumbering twins, being extra careful to not jostle them around and wake them. Stan grumbled in response, hearing Ford’s footsteps fade away in the distance. 

Stan doesn’t know how long it’s been, all he knows is that he had fallen asleep with the way his neck was sore. “Sir?” A voice broke through his drowsiness. “Sir?” They call out again. “Hm, wha?” Stan peeled open his eyes, the glaring hospital lights momentarily blinded him. Covering his eyes with his palm, he squinted at the lady in front of him. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“We’re closing up for the night, sir. I need you to leave.” She calmly said, offering a soft smile to Stan. “But my kid, they’re in here. I need to be here if anything happens.” He scrambles to put his glasses on. “I assure you sir, whoever your kid is, will be fine. We will keep a lookout if anything happens.” 

“How are you guys goin’ to keep a lookout when you’re all home sleeping away like there isn’t people dying in here!” Stan argued. “Now's not the time, sir. I need you to leave or you’d be personally escorted out by the guards.” Stan sighed, standing up from his chair. “You don’t have to do all that.” He mutters, cracking his back before walking out. Walking out into the summer night, he pulled out his phone to check the time. 

11 P.M. it read. It looked like the doctors allowed him to stay overtime. Usually they’d kick people out of the waiting rooms by around 9 P.M.

His eyes freeze at the baby picture of you on his lockscreen. The photo was taken on your fourth birthday. Stan had gone all out, as he always did, and got you a little birthday hat, little cupcake with a candle that had your age on it, and a mess of confetti and other birthday assortments. You had such a large smile on your face as you were mid bite into your cupcake. He remembered the day so vividly as if it happened yesterday. He clenched his phone tightly, tears flooding his vision. Why did it have to be you? Running his arm roughly over his eyes, he sniffed. He shoved his phone back into his pockets and started walking back to the shack. 

Ford found himself being startled awake by a knock on the door. Sluggishly getting up from the couch, he walked over to the gift shop entrance. He opened the door to be pleasantly surprised to see Stan. He stepped aside, letting Stan walk in. “Kicked you out?” 

“Yup.” Stan accentuating the ‘p’.

“Told you.” 

A quick moment of silence takes over before Stan breaks it. “Is this all my fault?” 

“You were just trying to protect them.” Ford walks over to Stan, shoving his hands under his armpits. “Look where that got ‘em.” Stan cracked his thumb, whispering something to himself before timidly looking at Ford. “Do ya think you can stay with me tonight?” He sheepishly scratches his cheek. “I don’t think I can trust myself bein’ alone or whatever.” 

Ford earnestly smiled at him. “I don’t mind.” Stan nods. “You sleep on the floor though.” 

Stan’s phone loudly rattled on his nightstand, his ringtone noisily blaring its song. “Turn it off!” Ford cried out, folding his pillow over his head. Stan arose from his abundance of blankets and grabbed his phone, dragging it off the nightstand. He squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the blurry text. Stan reached out for his glasses, shoving them on his face and directing his eyes back on the screen. The word hospital flashed on his face. 

“It’s the hospital!” He swiped his finger, answering the call. He put his phone to his ear and anxiously waited. “Stanley Pines?” A snotty voice spoke from the phone. “Yes!” He clears his throat. “Yes, yes. That’s me. Why’re you callin’?” 

“[Name] has woken up and…” Stan had blocked everything else she said and shut up from the bed. “They’re awake!” He announced, shedding off his blankets and launching off his bed, accidentally stepping on Ford in the process. The whole morning was spent dashing around the house, vigorously getting dressed and making sure everyone was ready to head over to the hospital. After Ford’s triple check, they all clamored inside in the car and drove to the hospital. 

Stan burst into your room, his eyes locking with your bandaged form. “Dad!” You weakly called out, a shaky smile on your face. “Pumpkin!” He sighed out, relieved at seeing your beautiful smile. He wraps you in his arms, burying his face into your hair as he sobs. “I thought..I thought–!” He blubbers out. More welcoming arms wrap around you, wailing wracking through the air. “[Name]!!” Mable dragged out. “Don’t scare us like that ever again.” Dipper sniffed, scrubbing his eyes clear of tears. “Welcome back, kid.” Ford plants a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I’m here guys, you don’t have to worry so much.” You laugh, Stan wiping your tears with his thumb. “How can we not? We almost lost you, pumpkin.” After a tearful reunion, everyone stepped back, allowing you to breathe. They only gave you a few more minutes to yourself before they bombarded you with apologies. Mable and Dipper were stuck to your side, each of them giving you their own version of puppy eyes. Mable was more into it than Dipper, but you still accepted their apologies with a big hug.

“I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I should have been honest from the get go.” You took Stan’s hand, patting it like you would a dog. “It’s okay, Dad. I forgave you long ago. I should have followed what Ford said and calmed down.” You slightly glare at Ford. “Though, I didn’t like how he said it to me at the same time, so maybe I am justified in my anger?” 

“Ford doesn’t know how to talk. What’s new?” Stan knocked his shoulder with Ford who rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m the butt of the joke. As always.” 

“If it isn’t you! Then it would be Dipper,” Mable pokes at him. “But me and Grunkle Stan told all the jokes possible so it isn’t as funny as making fun of you, Grunkle Ford! You’re so nerdy and losery, more than Dipper. And that isn’t a good thing.” 

A crackly laugh leaves Stan. “Thanks for explaining, dear.” Ford said with a strain, his smile wavering. “Someone one upped you, Dipper.” You chuckle. “I don’t know if I should revel in it or feel sad for Ford.” Dipper tapped his finger on his chin. “Don’t overthink it, dude.” You flick his forehead. 

“And Grunkle Ford, where is your apology?” Mable raised her chin up high, doing her best attempt of a haughty queen looking down at her jester. Ford scoffs, “I’m so sorry, your humble majesty.” Dipping his head low to mimic a bow. 

“Oh?” You and Mable share a bewildered expression. “I wasn’t expecting him to actually do it.” You look over to Dipper who had an uncomfortable expression on his face. “I don’t like what’s going on here.” 

“Wait, are you going to have a cool scar on your forehead now?” Mable questions, pointing at your bandaged forehead. Bumbling conversation fills the air, laughter occasionally humming here and there. In the end, they all had to leave for your routine check up by the doctors. Stan was the last one to bid goodbye to you. Kissing your forehead, he held onto your hand, his eyes glistening with tears. 

“I love you so much, kiddo. If I had lost you back there, I dunno what would have happened to me.” He caresses his thumb against your hand. “Don’t say stuff like that, Dad. I’m here, that’s what counts.” 

You share a long hug together, with a few tears being shed.

“I know, I know.” Giving you one last kiss and embrace, he waves you goodbye. 

“I love you!” 

“I love you more, Dad!” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed :3

[the-summ0ning]

Obsessive/Possessive!Bestfriend!Vessel HC :(

content warnings: swearing, oblivious ves :/, aware reader, poor editing, rambling, two idiots in love

a/n: I personally have beef with this one bc my Tumblr kept crashing as I wrote this on multiple occasions through the week, and I got fed up oops (so sorry if this is a bit eh). Pt 2 perhaps when I'm less ready to throw my phone and laptop against a wall maybe a more NSFW edition?

Bsf Ves who thought it was normal to feel intense emotions towards you. He was always intense and profound about his feelings in general, so why would that exclude his best friend?

He was protective, but he was protective of all the people he cared about?!

So of course it was so normal for him to always walk you home after hanging out even if your place was a breezy block away. It was only a bonus to keep the hang out going for fifteen extra minutes with one of his, if not, his most favorite person!!!

Especially during cold nights, and you’d grab his hand intertwining your chilled fingers with his. Always telling him how he was so warm and inviting, leaning into his touch. That flush on his cheeks? Psh from the brisk weather, nothing else, why’d you ask?

Ignoring the annoying feeling of butterflies in his stomach whenever he was in your presence

and you ignored the fact you weren't down bad for him

he was the first person you showed your shopping hauls to.

His personal favorites were when you'd send pictures in the dressing rooms asking for his opinion. Not caring if there nearly 20 attachments to go through

he was simply no help, he was but a guy, and thought you looked good in everything hehe

close best friends just always were overly affectionate with one another, right?

Like cuddling casually, legs entwined, his rough fingertips slipping underneath your shirt tracing patterns on your tummy :( not bc he liked how soft your skin felt, but bc it calmed you and made you less restless

or or or when he'd be writing lyrics or gaming, he'd be sitting on the floor, and you on the couch running fingers through his hair. All solely to help him focus. You couldn't help how he'd stop what he was doing to crane his neck upwards to stare dreamily at you with a dopey smile

When you knew you'd be spending the night at his house, you'd lotion extra, and spritz a couple more pumps of fragrance on you and your things. Not bc you had hopes it'd linger on his sheets, and you wanted to get his on and off situationship you weren't fond of secretly to get the hint to buzz off finally BUT bc you just liked to smell nice and clean to rot in bed with Vessel

And he totally didn't use boys night as an excuse to stay up and occasionally glance at your location, while you went out with pals, awaiting your “just got home” text. Finally feeling tired enough coincidentally once he got the notification and kicking everyone out or going home to bed.

Or pushing past his social anxiety, to go out and make his rounds with IV or Sam to the pubs for a pint or to watch a match. He was /totally/ a big sports guy like his two friends so why wouldn’t he enjoy a loud rowdy overstimulating environment to watch a game?

He, in fact, did not care for sports like Ivy and Sam did and only knew enough to keep up with conversations.

And he definitely did not subject himself to these nights only bc he knew you liked to end nights at these specific pubs or occasionally came out to meet your mutual friends for drinks. And certainly not to see you in real time in your going out outfit, even though he looked at the picture you sent him before leaving your place frequently throughout the night

“Oh hey! I didn’t know you’d be here? Let me buy your next drink darling!”

You knew Vessel too well, knowing his disdain for these social settings. So every time you saw him at your favorite pub, you’d shoot him a look and he’d only sheepishly smile.

“The guys dragged me out of the house. So annoying.” He’d groan, and rub the back of his neck in annoyance

Yeah he was so normal about you.

Like a normal best friend would disregard every person you dated right? You only deserved the best and dating that person is settling in Vessel’s eyes?

Scowling immediately when he’d meet them, grilling the fuck out of your date. Watching how their hands lingered on you throughout the night, and how his chest tightened, knowing that should be him beside you, touching you like that

It wasn’t jealousy, never that. Just that protectiveness he felt for you—and all his friends ofc (can’t forget his other friends)

After a series of failed dates, tonight taking the cake, you showed up to Vessel’s house, disappointed needing the comfort of your best friend. You came right from the date to his place still in your pretty outfit you wore.

His chest tight and aching seeing how upset you were curled up on his couch, in his hoodie and sweats, blundering on everything you could have done wrong rather than accessing what your date did wrong

Seething about it actually, how could the person that brought him so much joy think they could have royally screwed things up?! He’s met a handful of the people you dated, they were all so wrong for you!

If they were wrong, who was right then?

That is when it smacked him in the face rather aggressively, feeling agitated hearing you ramble how you must have been unworthy and so broken for someone to love you. But he had loved you so effortlessly, it was one of the easiest feats he has done in his lifetime. Your imperfections and all were laid bare to him, and he still hadn’t recoiled because of it.

“But I love you.” It tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

A half hearted smile on your face, sniffling, wiping your stray tears with the floppy oversized sleeve of his hoodie. “You’re my best friend, Ves. It’s different.”

What he didn’t know was your miserable effort to date was to distract and repress what you knew was love that blurred that bordered more than platonic would be unreciprocated. Realizing months ago, it was always more, but rather staying friends, keeping it locked away, in fear he'd reject you. That most of the conversations on your dates involved stories with him, only tonight, realizing that was your flaw so blatantly.

He was the brightest star of your universe. An overbearing presence that made your dates uncomfortable, but you had considered him and you a package deal for anyone wanting to get to know you

And when you'd moan about your love life woes, it subtly included him as well.

“Would it be so horrible if I love you more than a best friend should?” It was a quiet confession that you thought you imagined if he wasn’t on the other side of the couch facing you. Leaving air caught in your throat, speechless. The air growing tense with the silence between you two

“It wouldn’t be horrible.” You finally willed the words out, but your nerves were clawing at you not at the realization that your feeling were reciprocated.

"So let me then." he willed, inching closer to you. "Let me show you how you deserved to be treated, and stop entertaining these lame fucks." His face now so close to yours, hand cupping your cheek

You searched his eyes for any chance he was messing with you. This had to be dream right?? The brush of his thumb on your cheekbone the only thing grounding you back to earth. Only nodding dazed at his words making him smile gently. "I need words, dove." his thumb trailed to your bottom lip, dragging it down a bit.

"That's all I wanted to hear for months." You admitted shyly.

That was all it took for his lips to be pressed against yours in a soft kiss, all the tension dissolving and encrypted into the gesture. The love, frustration, and yearning melding between your mouths, his hand wrapping in the hair at the nape of your neck to bring you impossibly closer.

"We were never meant to be just friends." He mumbles against your lips.

"Never." you agreed, crawling into his lap.

[deadguywalkin]

seb x fem farmer/you hcs

all lot of these can be gender neutral! i probably won’t be making more of these.. i am a bi seb truther, but my blog is gonna continue to be very sebxsamxalex centric since i just wrote these up for sab hehe

fixes your hair/bangs when he sees something wrong without saying anything. just randomly pushes them to the side for you or touches it up a little, cuz he knows how annoying it can be esp when you can’t see them yourself

loves having his chest slept on. a hand up your shirt with his slightly cold hand moving up and down on your back (he has cold hands FIGHT ME.IF YOU DISAGREE!!!!!

also likes having his lap sat on. he likes having slight pressure/weight on him a lot

isn’t very affectionate just right away/generally but randomly ruffles your hair or holds one of your cheeks while pecking the other

random naps in the middle of the day together. it’s a whole routine and this will happen every single day

watching sci-fi/horror/fantasy movies all cuddled up on the couch and just constantly commenting on and making fun of everything that happens. giggling at the way an actor said something weirdly and just turning them into little inside jokes

keeps a hairtie on his wrist at all times

sitting with you while he eats somethign and you’re not eating anything, he just feeds you little bites without even offering it first

‘darling’ ‘my dear’ ‘my love’ , ‘my bat’ if we’re feeling extra emo

face, neck, waist grabber. needs to be as close as he can to you so he just pulls your waist closer while you’re kissing, fingers borderline digging into your skin

does small gestures, no questions asked, doesn’tsay anything. he doesn’t expect anything in return but he just enjoys being there for you

acts tough and introverted but he’s actually very needy and soft. just because he isn’t vocally affectionate doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be smothered with kisses and loved very gently.

notices all the little things. if you do your hair or makeup a little differently, if you’re wearing a new perfume, anything. he knows you by heart and will notice any little change

random hugs and pushing his head over your shoulder, placing little pecks to your neck

bold and flirty, making suggestive jokes but CRUMBLES the second you flirt back

a lot of hand holding, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. pressing soft kisses to your knuckles before looking at you with half lidded eyes and a little smile that puts his dimples on display

random motorcycle rides whenever you get tired of being in town. riding off to god knows where, but finding a random empty field out of town to sit in and talk in the middle of the night

creeps up behind you and spooks you every once in a while. it is so annoying but a little endearing and it also kind of puts you on edge when he hasn’t done it in a while

not the best at communicating, but he’ll let you walk him through it because he knows you know how to do it better than he does (?) idk how to word it

naturally has very flirty narrow eyes. anything he says sounds flirty with the way he looks at you

HATES showing people his baby photos. he’ll let you keep one in your phonecase though, you’re the only exception for anything to him

very eepy. leans on you a lot,

if you guys are double emo, heart shaped blood vials of each other’s blood that you just carry everywhere or wear as a necklace

[sgtcosmo]

under the weather - 141 headcanons

cw: none, just pure (established relationship) fluff <3 only pronoun used for reader is 'you'

a/n: i'm sick as shit rn and i've been laying in bed all day thinking about how the 141 would care for gn!reader while they're sick, so this is a lil bit self-indulgent hehe!! also, thank you for the love on my first drabble that i posted a couple days ago, it makes me so happy :') enjoy these!

gaz:

-he's an absolute sweetheart all the time already, but when you're sick? oh my god

-checking in on you every 10 minutes, even if it annoys you. he has to know that you're doing okay!!

-i hc him as being a great cook, so he definitely makes you some good ass homemade soups

-THIS ONE MADE MY HEART MELT WHEN I THOUGHT ABOUT IT but he would absolutely read to you. it'd either be wherever he left off in the most recent book he's reading on his own, or he'd grab one of your favourites from the shelf and start from the beginning

-lets you use his lap as a pillow while he reads to you, holding the book with one hand and playing with your hair with the other

-rubs your back soothingly when you're having one of those god awful coughing fits

-when he goes to the store to get you medicine and such, he'll facetime you the whole time. he'll show you the medicine and snacks/drinks at the store and let you pick which ones you want (he also wants to make sure that you're alright while he's gone <3)

-gives you his warmest and nicest sweaters to wear, doesn't care if they get dirty

ghost:

-runs you a bath and lets you soak in the warm water while he washes your hair

-will absolutely make you a hot cup of tea with honey to soothe your sore throat

-canned soup kinda guy. he'd still try his best to make it as appetizing as possible though, adding in extra bits that he knows you like

-you're not lifting a finger once he finds out you're sick. your household chores? they're his now. those errands you were supposed to run today? oops, he's already got his shoes on and keys in hand

-will not let you out of his sight. always keeps a watchful eye on you, no matter what. he took over your duty of washing the dishes? he's bundling you up in 10 blankets on the couch in the living room so he can turn around every 30 seconds and silently check on you

-would probably set reminders on his phone so you take your medicine exactly when you're supposed to, even if it's 3 am. he's up and fetching everything you need before you can even complain about the reminder going off and waking you up

-picks you up and carries you around the house so you don't have to walk

soap:

-still cuddles and kisses you, despite your attempts to push him away to prevent him from also getting sick. he doesn't give a shit

-plays video games with you, or watches you play. i feel like he'd be a try-hard at games and wouldn't take losing lightly, but he'd let you win just because you're sick. if you call him out for it, then he'd probably just make some half-assed excuse and say he must be having an 'off day'

-i feel like he's a canned soup-er, like ghost. will make a bowl for himself as well though so he can eat it with you

-pillow fort? pillow fort. makes a huge one in the living room with a big nest of blankets in it for you both to cuddle in. he even makes a little window through the pillows so you can see the tv and watch your favourite movies

-will order your favourite take-out for you once you feel well enough to eat something other than soup

-would make you laugh so much that it sends you into coughing fits (laughter is the best medicine, after all ;))

price:

-much like ghost, he'd keep a very watchful eye on you and check in on you often

-definitely a homemade soup guy. if there's a specific canned soup that you want, he'll make it exactly how it is, but better

-cuddles with you under a pile of blankets as you watch shitty rom-coms together

-lets you lay on him while you sleep, even if it's for hours at a time. he'd keep his arms wrapped securely around you and kiss the top of your head occasionally

-is willing to do anything and everything you need in order to get you back to good health as quickly as possible. just say the word and he's got it

-would buy medicine in every flavour it comes in just so you can try them all and see what one tastes best so taking it isn't such a miserable experience (i feel like soap would probably do this too? but he'd treat it more as a fun taste test ranking kind of thing)

-will go on short walks outside with you in hopes that the fresh air will make you feel better. he's bundling you up like nobody's business if it's cold outside, though

[carcarcraziiv2]

Heartsteel Sett Boyfriend HCs

~Sett is love, Sett is LIFE. Don't get me wrong, I am barking and on all fours for all of these men but Sett holds a special place in my little heart~

P.S. Asks are open! I am open to requests! P.S.S. I am also open to other League characters, Arcane AU, etc. Just hmu :3

TW: Floof. So much floof. Pet names. You get the picture right? As always, enter at your own risk!

Sett is a l o v e r. PDA overload. Hugs? Always, without question, is up for that. Kisses? You bet your ass he will. Any second, no matter where you are, you could lean in for one and he will squeeze you up against him, and kiss you like his life depends on it. If anyone appears to be giving you some extra attention that he doesn't like, all this big guy has to do is walk up next to you (as if he isn't there already lol) and usually the person doing the thing is smart enough to know better than to continue. "Hey baby, come here. What, can't I kiss you? Let me kiss you. That's my good b/g."

Sett is second only to Ezreal in his joking capabilities. This man can JOKE, and although he is trying to joke with and or at you, he unfortunately tends to make a fool of himself because he is a massive dork. If you pull jokes on him, he doesn't really get upset or offended, but he will pretend to be. His goofy demeanor means he will put a hand to his chest acting all flabbergasted, then tackle you into a hug or onto the bed while calling you a dork. "Haha! You're so funny, but you know I've got skin of steel baby. Oh, you meant it? Yeah right! Comere!"

Sett is an absolute SUCKER for attention. He will eat it up, and if you aren't paying attention to him? You might as well be. He will pester you, throw you over his shoulder, basically DEMAND your attention. Since this is just how he is, you never have to be desperate for his attention either. If for some reason you do feel neglected, he will feel very bad about it. He will make it up to you no matter what that means. "I'm sorry I've been at the gym so much this week, band stuff has just been stressing me out. Hey, I have an idea! Why don't you go with me?!"

Kisses, hugs, and everything fun= SETT. He is a fiend. He is insatiable. He will grab you up and kiss you, no matter where you are. His kisses can be goofy, fun, or downright sensual. Sometimes, when Sett is feeling serious for once, he will take his time with you. Touching you sweetly- he is so strong sometimes he is scared he will hurt you by accident. But man, it's all worth it as soon as his lips touch yours. Sett grabs your wrist, pulling you flush against him. You have to tilt your head to see him, and as he gazes back down at you he tilts his head and studies your face. "You're everything, baby. Everything." He leans down, kissing you gently, before releasing your lips and hugging you even closer.

Sett doesn't like arguing. He gets so pent up sometimes, you fear for the guy he goes up against at his boxing matches. Most of the time, when it's petty little arguments, he will figure out some way to get your mind off of it. Every once in awhile when you actually feel upset about the situation, Sett will take his time to sit down and talk it out with you. He will grab your hands, nod while you explain your side, and carefully display his own. By the end of it, the two of you are usually kissing... and by the end of that- well... "I get where you're coming from, baby. I just think we could have approached the situation differently, is all. Promise you're not mad at me? Thank the Gods. Come on, I wanna make it up to you in the bedroom hehe," He says, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you toward your room.

Sett will be very sad when you leave, or when he has to leave. He is like a little puppy dog who cries when you go (although he doesn't actually cry). He will pout, however, and his irresistible face almost makes you quit everything and stay home just to appease him. When he leaves, he will ask you a thousand questions trying to egg on a reason to stay, but you know he has to get to band practice so that Yone doesn't come pounding down your door, so you usually just give him a reason to be excited to come home later. "I miss you already, baby! Please don't make me go. Nah, look Yone loves me! He won't be that mad... Comeonnnn. Fine, but later we are getting dinner, and you are going to be desert."

[draculasfavoritewife]

El Hambre (Hunger)

Summary: Getting Miguel to take a break is a full-time job unto itself, and requires a little extra incentive.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Spider!Reader

Warnings: Lots of suggestive talk. Miguel being an ass hehe. A risky make-out in a public space, idiots in love CANNOT keep their hands to themselves. I put far too much of my descriptive powers into talking about how devastatingly sexy Miguel is. Also for my intents and purposes, Reader understands and speaks Spanish.

Note: I use the shortened version of his name "Mique" in my own writing just because I personally prefer it. Swap it with whatever nickname you prefer in your head :)

This is one of my personal favorite pieces I've written, and still makes me giggle like an evil maniac whenever I return to reread/edit it. I have shamelessly watched every Miguel scene in ATSV far too many times and will continue to do so; his image is already tattooed on the backs of my eyelids. As mentioned in my HCs, reader is a spider-hero, but I left her pretty vague on purpose -- feel free to fill in her costume/powers/skill set with your own spidersona!

*Spanish translations at the end! (I am fairly bilingual, but if I made a lil mistake here or there do forgive me)

He hasn’t turned away from his myriad glowing monitor screens in nearly ten minutes, standing like a damn statue with his feet wide apart and hands braced on his trim hips, only lifting to sharply swipe through any screens that serve him no purpose. Each tiny shift of weight, the rise and fall of his ribcage as he breathes, all the little things that prove he is still, in fact, alive, cast soft highlights over the swell and dip of taut muscle, every part of him coiled and ready to explode into action like the perfect hunting machine he is. 

Right now, though, his eyes are burning from overexposure to even the dim interior of his watch station, and with an annoyed sigh he turns his face to the side, long fingers rubbing furiously at where the bridge of his nose meets his brow in the hope of chasing away the dull ache gnawing there. 

“You do know that even though I don’t have spider-sense I can still hear you, right?” 

You let go of your strand of web and drop lightly to the platform behind him, pulling off your mask and tucking it away. “What gave me away, the sound of me drooling as I stared too long?” 

Shocking hell.

You’re in one of those moods. 

Miguel can’t quite decide if he’s too tired for this right now or if he’s curious how far you’ll try and push him on his home turf. And it’s that indecision that starts him digging his own grave. 

“I was going to say the way your heartbeat spikes every time you set foot in this room.” His voice comes out sweet and thick as honey, because he knows exactly what that tone does to you when he uses it.

“...And I can still smell my clothes on you. Did you sleep in my shirt again?” 

“Maybe.”

Actually, you’d fallen asleep in a veritable pile of his clothes — it had been a bit since he’d had a free night, okay, and you weren’t desperate you just missed him. 

That makes him chuckle. He can probably tell you’re omitting the whole truth. 

Miguel finally turns to fully face you, and you inhale quickly as always, at the way he towers so far above your head, how his wide shoulders block out the light from his screens so his silhouette swallows you in darkness. His hair is messy, and there are deep shadows under his eyes, but his pretty mouth is slanted in a wry grin and the set of his thick eyebrows hints at underlying amusement. 

“Cute,” is what he remarks at your wide blinking eyes and rapidly heating skin, and it makes him smirk wickedly, to see how that one word flusters you for the barest of seconds. You’ve told him multiple times that you hate being called “cute” by anybody else, but ever since the first time the word slipped past his lips when he really realized just how much smaller you were underneath his body….

Well, he knows the effect it can have. 

You scowl and regain your composure. “Don’t call me that.” 

Miguel’s only response is an easy shrug, a lift of one shoulder. “What’d you bring me?” He nods at the containers in your hands. 

“Entitled prick.” With a dramatic flourish, you whip them away from his claw-tipped fingers. “What makes you think these are for you?” The exchange is back in your court with his query, and you intend to keep it there. 

“Aren’t they always?” Dark eyes zero in on yours, their softness in the gloom betraying what the gesture means to him even if he won’t say it. 

With a huff, you thrust the thermos and small box into his chest, pretending you don’t keenly notice the way the impact sends a ripple through his impressive pectorals. “Coffee. And those stupid little empanadas you love so much.” 

“Not stupid.” He takes them from your grasp much more delicately than someone with hands so large should be able to. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a single craving for subpar food? Keeps me human.” 

He’s baiting you, knows that the words “not since I tasted you” are on the very tip of your tongue, because that’s just how your dirty mind works and he loves it. Can see the struggle on your face as you resolve not to say them aloud, and that almost goads him on more, to know you’re thinking it and just barely holding out so he doesn’t get the upper hand again quite yet. 

You settle yourself on a nearby console and gaze expectantly at him, swinging your legs. 

He gives you the side-eye as he sets your offerings down next to his work station.

“What.” 

“I’m not going anywhere until I see you eat something,” you inform him sweetly. 

Miguel groans. “Ay, loca, no eres mi madre. I’ll eat when I’m done running these last projections, okay?” 

You obstinately sit cross-legged on the console and make a show of getting comfortable for the long haul. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me, Handsome. I meant what I said.” 

He glares.

You glare back. 

Finally he opens the box with painstaking slowness — you see the way his nostrils flare at the scent of hot food, though you know he’d deny it — and he takes a large bite, maintaining eye contact the entire time he chews and swallows, each motion dripping with mockery. His tongue runs across the length of his upper lip far too sensually to be accidental, and you just catch the points of his fangs glinting in the partial darkness. 

“Better?” he drawls, dropping the empanada back in its container and leaning towards you. 

“That was one miserable bite! Doesn’t count.” 

His lip curls in a taunting sneer, and before you know what’s happening one of his powerful arms is on either side of you, his head cocked to one side as he studies you through half-lidded eyes. “Maybe your ears don’t work, Sweetheart. Tú no eres mi madre. ¿Comprendes?” 

You decide to change tactics. “Fine, fine. I’ll let it go. But —“ you gently push a few stray strands of hair away from his forehead, pausing to kiss the stress lines between his eyebrows. “— when was the last time you slept, Mique?” 

He rolls his eyes. “This morning —“ 

“For more than twenty minutes.” 

That makes him think. And by the way his gaze guiltily slides away from yours, he knows you won’t like the answer. “…When was the last time I stayed with you?” 

You sigh and cradle his strong jaw in your hands, thumbs massaging soft circles into his skin to get him to unclench his teeth. “That was four nights ago, Mique.” 

A long exhale escapes him, and he rests his head against your chest. It warms you, that he feels safe enough in the moment to let down his guard and actually show such intimate affection in his workspace. 

Or maybe he’s just that tired.

Either way, you’ll take it. 

You start working his back and shoulder muscles, kneading deeply into the firm knots where you know he holds onto everything — anger, grief, guilt, worry — Miguel does not talk through the mess in his head, preferring instead to let it fuel his savage strength. But when the adrenaline at last wears off, you know the toll it can take on his body. 

A sound halfway between a groan and a growl, and altogether far too suggestive for the time and place, rolls from deep in his chest and his hands tighten on the edge of the console, metal protesting as his talons curl into the hard surface. “Mierda. That’s tight.” 

“Should I stop?” You can’t quite tell if his reactions are spurred more by pain or pleasure.

With Miguel, the two often travel hand-in hand, anyway. 

“No.” To your disbelief, his hands uncurl from where they’re sunk into the console and travel to find your legs, teasing them apart so he can shove himself even closer and you have nowhere else to put them than around his waist, your heels resting just above his ass. “Keep going. Feels good.” 

“Someone’s touchy today, huh? And not in the usual way,” you tease, and then suddenly yelp as his hot, searching mouth lands right in the center of your chest, very noticeable through the thin material of your suit. One of his hands immediately clamps over your mouth to stifle any further sounds. 

“Cállate, Chula,” he warns, finally raising his eyes to yours again. You can see the crimson starting to smolder through in his irises, a sure sign that he’s giving in to having you right here in front of him, that you just might be a better use of his time than his projected calculations of multiverse-wide collapse.

He could use a break.

“You know people can hear you.” 

You push his hand aside. “Right, and that was totally way more audible than whatever sound you just made a minute ago.” 

“You know how I feel about it when you’re a brat to me,” he growls, snagging your lower lip with his thumb. 

“I think you love it,” you whisper, one of your own hands sliding up the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. 

“I think that disrespectful mouth needs to be put to better use.” 

He hasn’t ever kissed you in his workspace before, and the forbidden feeling of it as he pushes you down on your back, pinning you to the console and stopping your mouth with his own sends a jolt down the entire length of your spine. Miguel has always been a wild kisser when he’s properly worked up, and you gasp out loud as his sharp teeth nip your lip, immediately followed by his tongue soothing the momentary sting. 

“I told you to be quiet,” he hums as he at last lets your mouths break apart. 

“You didn’t say you were gonna bite me, Cariño!” 

His answering smile is a wider one than you’ve seen in days. “Why would you ever assume no biting with me, Baby?” 

“…Fair point.” 

It takes you a minute to realize his fingertips are teasing the neck of your suit down bit by bit, leaving more and more of your throat exposed. “¿Qué haces, Mique?” 

He shushes you, this kiss a little more romantic and drawn out than the last. “You said you’d sit here ’til I ate something, hmm?” 

“Y-yes….” 

His gaze burns dark red and you suddenly feel the entire weight of him trapping you in place. 

“Well lucky you, pretty girl — you look a lot tastier than a cafeteria empanada right now.” 

He keeps one hand over your mouth as he attacks your neck, your shoulders, your wrists, anywhere that he knows gets a shiver out of you and that you’ve told him he can leave a mark. You try to keep still, you really do, but it's almost impossible with the Spanish endearments he mutters in your ears and the way his lips, teeth, and tongue take you on a seemingly endless rollercoaster of sensation. You hear him hiss once or twice when his onslaught makes your thighs tighten around his hips, but you can’t help it, can’t help trying to pull his body even closer, even though his heartbeat is already thundering against yours and your desperate breaths are rocking his lungs. 

When he finally uncovers your mouth again to let you take in more air, you splay your hands across his wide chest, prodding at the nearly-nonexistent layer of his digital suit. “Off.” 

“Mmm, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he murmurs regretfully, and to your dismay, he suddenly releases you, picking up the coffee you brought him and swearing briefly in Spanish when he realizes it’s not as hot as he wanted anymore. “They’re looking for you.” 

You sit up quickly at the sound of youthful voices echoing faintly in the corridors but getting closer — your spiderlings, no doubt, wondering what on earth took you so long bringing O’Hara his dinner. You’re a mess, you realize, hair disheveled and suit boasting several tears in unfortunate areas where his claws caught, the skin beneath already bruising wherever his mouth was. 

“Catch your breath,” he advises around another bite of empanada, with all the smug tone of a life coach having just witnessed a breakdown (as if he wasn’t the sole cause of that breakdown). “You’ll need it, to explain away all of that.” 

“I hate you, Miguel O’Hara.” You grit your teeth and slide off of his equipment, halfheartedly readjusting yourself and tamping down the rising tide of desire he had the audacity to start. “You and that fancy body glove of yours.” 

“Just because no one can see what your nails have done to my back doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” he offers flippantly, as if that will do anything to fix your current state. “And I know by ‘hate’ you really mean ‘violently need me to make up for stopping short’. I have to come by for some of my missing clothes later anyway.” 

Hope blossoms in your chest. “You’re coming over tonight?” 

A thoughtful sip of coffee. “Unless LYLA kills me first for making her watch us go at it. I’ll pick something up for dinner, too. And who knows….” He steps closer, his free hand wandering from your back all the way down to your thigh and up again. “Maybe, if you tire me out real good, I’ll even get some sleep like you want?” 

Anticipation bubbles through your veins at the thought.

“Yeah. I’ll be waiting.” 

He gives your hip a sharp squeeze. “Atta girl.” 

A burst of chatter below heralds the arrival of your little clan of doting spider-kids, so you gather your wits and swing down to meet them, praying none of them put two and two together and actually get four. 

Miguel glances over the edge of the platform, and barely hides his satisfaction and amusement at the immediate flood of concern and questions that greets you: “What did this to you?! Are you okay?!”. 

He almost considers coming down there and setting the record straight when he hears you say, “It’s okay, Kids, really, don’t worry about it. Just got chomped a few times by a giant angry spider while I was on a mission. But he’s gonna pay for it next time, I swear.” 

No eres mi madre = You're not my mother

¿Comprendes? = Understand?

Mierda = (Expletive)

Cállate, Chula = Be quiet, Cutie

Cariño = Honey, Sweetheart

¿Qué haces? = What are you doing?

[karmas-korner]

cg! sanji moodboard + headcannons!!

ive had dis one in m drafts forever (*´Д`*) but, cg!sanji is finally here hehe, i hope yall enjoy (* ´ ▽ ` *)!! ((hcs below da cut!!))

🍳 spoils you absolutely rotten!! he just cannot resist giving his baby anything and everything they want

🦐 obviously his favorite activity to do with you is cook, he just loves helping you and showing you all his recipes!! and if your too little to cook, he's more than happy to have you sit and watch him

🍳 loves singing nd humming lullabies to you, whether it's when you're trying to sleep or if you're helping in the kitchen, he just loves singing with you

🦐 if there is extra food, he'll let you cook and make anything your little heart desires, and of course you know he is going to eat it all with a big smile on his face and gush about how good it is and how talented his kiddo is

🍳 nicknames!! omg does he have so many nicknames for you!! honey bunny, cuddle bug, darling, cupcake, kiddo and muffin are just a few of the many he has for you!!

🦐 has sososo many sippy and kiddie cups in the kitchen for whenever your thirsty or he thinks you need a special drink

🍳 he loves taking baths with you!! and seeing as he bathes every day, he gets lots of opportunities to make bath time fun!! and if you don't like baths he finds other ways to pamper you like, giving you manicures!

🦐 finally he is sososo cuddly!! at any given moment he is holding you, grabbing your hand, playing with your hair, kissing your cheek, anything to be close to his darling!!

[cosmicstarlatte]

Levi A-Z Smut HCs (Obey Me!)

⬅Back to Smut HC A-Z Masterlist ◇

18+ only, minors do not interact.

My personal headcanons using this [prompt list]

The goal is to finish the whole list; you are welcome to request a letter so I get to it faster. I will work on it as quick as I can but keep in mind I do have a life & responsibilities lol. ^^

Last Updated: Oct.1.2023 (9 out of 26)

⚠️Notes: I'll tag any sections if needed. If you think a section needs a tag, kindly let me know.

A: Affair (Describe an extra-marital affair)

B: Birthday (Describe birthday sex)

C: Compliments (Mid- and post-sex compliments)

D: Dry Humping (Describe a dry-humping scene)

tags: punishment, humiliation Every once in a while you need to punish him, either he spent way too much on otaku merch or he's been missing classes too much, whatever. You'll usually sit on him & tease him as he tries to play on his PC. He knows what you're doing & he begs to feel you, please he'll 'do better' he says. Unfortunately for him his poor cock won't get that sweet relief exactly. he can beg & whine all he wants & rub desperately against you but he's still gonna have to cum in his pants.

E: Experimenting (Trying something new)

F: Firsts (First time having sex together)

It was clumsy & cute. The poor otaku was so nervous, he couldn't believe he could bag such a baddie. Someway somehow even with the nervousness he still felt calm with you, if that makes any sense. He was more worried about you than him & he just wanted to make you feel good. especially when he came rather quickly before the 1st round. Anyway, the nerd is packin' & those hands & tongue work skillfully. ...You definitely went a few good rounds into the night & left each other a mess before finally taking a sweet bath together. After, you guys cuddled under a warm blanket & watched a lighthearted anime. ♡

G: Gentle (Describe gentle/loving mid-sex gestures)

H: Handsy (When they can’t keep their hands to themselves)

I: Initiator (Who initiates most of the time? How?)

J: Jealous (“Claiming” a partner)

tags: Possessive, Love bites/Marking, Scenting Sweetie, he's the avatar of envy. When it's extreme, there's no hiding it, he gives in. That sweet shy nervous otaku? Gone. He's bringing & giving grand admiral energy, he's giving 'one of the powerful lords of hell.' Sure he could summon Lotan or use something else if he wants to, but all he really needs is to say "Go away" in a icy cold voice & glare that makes thousands of soldiers shiver. You almost feel sorry for any bastard that tries to make him jealous. Even after they leave though, he wants nothing more but to mark you with visible love bites & rub his scent all over you. He made it easily known to his brothers to not touch what's his.

K: Kitchen (Describe a sex scene in the kitchen)

L: Likes (What they like in the bedroom)

M: Morning (Describe morning sex)

It happens frequently hehe. You tend to stay over a lot to watch a marathon or play games. Levi's libido is strong, he's always down to fuck in the morning, it brightens his spirit. Watching you take his cock & filling you up right before school is the perfect way to start the day. It's especially motivating when he knows you walk around the entire day with his cum between your legs, he cant wait to come home & fuck you again. (If he can wait that long)

N: Never (Things they would never try)

O: Orgasm (Describe coming--who comes first? What do they say? How does the other person know it’s approaching?)

P: Playlist (A playlist for getting down and dirty; will probably include a lap dance song, a song for making love, and a song that represents their sex life)

Q: Quiet (Reaction to a quiet partner)

You know what I'm not gonna lie, I think he'd be just a tad disappointed at first. Of course he reminds himself a lot of porn is fake anyway & then he really tunes in to the small delicious sounds you do reveal. The faces you make. The little bits you let him hear are still so very fucking hot & sexy. He's the one making you sound like that either way~

R: Ruttish (Signs that they’re horny)

Ah...Levi is easy. He's not very good at hiding it. A flushed face and a small sheen of sweat to him. He gets a little extra irritable as well. The biggest sign is the tent in his pants when he's around you. Sorry, but he doesn't hide it very well, it's obvious when he looks like he's trying to hide something when he tries to cover up down there. (I wonder if he does it on purpose?)

S: Safe Word (How often is the safe word used? Why?)

T: Teasing (Who’s the tease in the relationship? What do they do? How often?)

U: Undressing (Strip teasing a partner)

V: Videos (Sending NSFW videos to each other)

Do you realize what you've done? The first time you sent him a video, he got instantly hard & couldnt stop cumming to that video. Unfortunately for him he kept getting hard any time he thought about it that week, it was embarrassing walking around with a constant erection. His first few videos in response were a little clumsy, but it turned you on. He was a loud moaner & he loved to whimper. Little whiney pants when he was getting close always did it for you. He made sure to take better video, especially audio when he learned you really loved his moans. ♡

W: Wedding Night (Consummating the marriage)

tags: overstimulation The only thing on his mind is getting you off the entire night until you're crying & begging him to stop. Until you're drained. He knows it's about the two of you celebrating but...you're his life partner now! He's so grateful you chose him out of everyone. Please let him worship you tonight, lay back & let him handle it. He promises he's enjoying this as much as you are. Promise.

X: XXX (What kind of porn does the person watch? How often?)

tags: double dicks, creepy!pervy!levi I'm not going to lie to y'all, Levi's a freak. (Okay we knew this) He watches all kinds of porn, both real & hentai. I'd say it's nearly an every day thing, it's hard taking care of two monster cocks & he needs to empty his balls. His favorite? POV hentai vids. Especially ones that look like you... Perhaps he has a few commissioned hentais where they look like the two of you...

Y: Yawn (How they sleep post-sex)

Z: Zoo (Their animalistic qualities in the bedroom)

[miuszn]

i love all of your hcs and i know dealer!ellie would love to spoil reader

but hcs with rich reader who loves to spoil ellie?!?!

hi anon !! honestly i’ve wanted to write rich ellie hcs for such a long time bc it’s an idea thats so interesting to me eheh i just love imagining her owning a business or something ( even tho realistically she would probably NOT know how to manage one at all .. srry .. ) here’s some hcs <3

rich!ellie x reader hcs

♡ u met her while working part time as a waitress to support urself during college . she was a couple years older than u , thought u were super cute and left the biggest tip ever . u thought it was a mistake , so u went back to her table and told her she left a lot of money but insisted it wasn’t an accident . the next week she came back during the least busy hour + day and specifically requested u as her waitress . she offered u to sit down and have a drink with her , and since u were def attracted to her since the moment u first saw her u had nothing to do , you accepted . n well u already know how that went hehe

♡ spoils u SO MUCH . like wow . her love language would def be gift giving n the bigger the gift the better !!

♡ if u ever ask her for $10 , she sends u $100 n tells u not to worry abt it . that’s basically nothing for her . every once in a while she’d even give u $1000 if she was feeling extra nice

♡ fancy , high end restaurants ONLY . the only times uve ever gone to less expensive restaurants were bc u wanted to go and try them , but when it’s up to her to decide , she believes u deserve nothing less than the best of the best.

♡ never lets u pay for anything !! whether it be the bill , clothes , or even a super expensive bag , she can’t stand the thought of u paying for it urself . she just has to .

♡ at first , u rejected her gifts because u didn’t want her to think u were just with her bc of her money . but eventually u gave in when u realized how happy it made her , she enjoyed giving u gifts more than u enjoyed receiving them

♡ she has the comfiest bed ever . u could lay in it for days doing nothing bc of how comfy it is . she’s wanted to get another one multiple times since it’s starting to get old but doesn’t bc of how much u love it even tho she could easily get a much better one

[lunarw0rks]

nsfw 141!taking ur v card hcs 🤭 ignore if weird, sorry!

gaz! would do it as a friend. whatever reasoning you have, as long as you come to him friend to friend, he’ll do it. only thing is, is he’s not going to argue feelings can’t arise. he knows how important this is, and fucking delivers. becomes significantly more protective of you after this moment, will practically die on the spot if you could say the same.

soap! would make you laugh during the whole thing, but knows where the line is drawn. he’ll be slow, hands caressing your skin and eyes locked onto you to stay updated on how you feel, all while he whispers encouraging words. he wants you to cum with your eyes staying on him, his head following yours and his hands gently encouraging your head to do the same. you will be falling in love with this one, sorry.

price! would think about it long and hard, putting aside his own feelings for you to truly rationalize every aspect of this. it is planned to a t, but you’d never catch on with how smooth he is. his forehead drips with sweat with how much he’s holding back, but his calming voice never changes. he nearly completely forgets to cum, too enthralled with watching you to consider it, but with prior discussion he’s finishing where you had agreed. he’d take you to a date before, dressed in a suit and doing all of the expected things of a gentlemen. that never drops, even when he’s desperate to move faster, but not until you say. only time captain bows to another, so take advantageeeee!

ghost! is the most hesitant out of any of them, his own anxieties with sex overriding every thought he has. he’ll agree and you won’t even notice the anxiety. he’d tease you the most of any of them, to get you both into that headspace. you’d end up making out at your doorstep like a movie couple, ghost having to remind you to take it slow. this one would be the most sensual once you start to breathe normally, and you’d both end up laying next to each other afterwards, playing with one another’s fingers. the glances you share after that moment will forever gain everyone’s attention, the tension in the air changing drastically when you’re both in the same room.

hehe definitely not projecting or anything 🤭 (i need them all)

genuinely the realest ask i've ever gotten. anon, i will trim your hedges and buy you starbucks for this <3 and i'm totally not projecting either.... totally not begging for this experience with them if they were real omg

gaz being the "best friend" that you've fucked, and probably will fuck again is so real. and how he's extra protective of you after, but not in a possessive way :((

soap, still maintaining that humorous side of him - but knowing when to be serious. the eye contact thing is so real. and he would always be touching you, asking you which places are the most sensitive so he can make sure you're enjoying yourself :((

price being a gentleman is so real. he'll literally do anything you say in the moment, and he's shamelessly okay with that. imagining him holding back... and forcing himself to be gentle :(( i'm deceased.

simon having to tell you to slow your roll and instruct you on where to touch him (if you insist), how to position yourself to make what he's doing extra pleasurable :(( and the aftercare/pillow talk being so soft and without regret...

[villxinmiixx]

their darling with anger issues and an itching problem hcs

characters; all for one, shigaraki tomura, gigantomachia, dabi

♡ extreme anger issued reader, the reader itches their body when they get mad

♡ genre; extreme fluff, comfort, sort of cringe, idk i was mad and needed comfort from my villains <;/3

♡ extra; ooc all for one?

♡ note; i got angry from something and now im writing about it, also sorry for not posting fics!! ;( been really unmotivated and didn't know what to write even though i had a lot of drafts and asks with ideas already.

﹫ ALL FOR ONE; he thinks it's adorable when you get pissed off, and admirable when he sees you letting out your anger on a poor not-so innocent soul. he supports the whole idea of you killing someone (that's actually guilty of something) when you're angry. but he quickly realizes you're similar to tomura when you start itching your neck, your wrists, your arms, your calves, your scalp, etc.

ㅤwhen you start doing that near him he'll come to you and put his large hand on top of your head, pulling you closer when he put his other hand on your waist, and tug you into his embrace. smelling your hair and telling you to breathe slowly.

ㅤhe found out you have this problem when you were itching like crazy over not being able to do your hair right.

ㅤ“sweetheart, are you alright? ” he came up to you with a concerned face ( or a molded face with slightly frowned lips ) while he took your wrist to stop you from itching the side of your face. “huh? oh yeah! im fine, don't worry about it hunny! something just bit the side of my face and it was itchy. hehe ” you made up an excuse.

ㅤhe could practically feel your heartbeat going faster due to the tension. you smile while you grew nervous. you don't wanna make him worry, he's already too busy trying to make plans to end hero society. you don't wanna be a burden to him.

ㅤall for one lifted you up from the chair you sat on and hoisted your butt using his arms while your own was wrapped around his neck, your chin laying on his shoulder.

ㅤ“i know something terrible happened in your past for you to have this issue but i assure you i'll be with you every step of the way, and i want you to be beside me when i put japan onto it's knees. ” he told you in his soothing deep voice, you started tearing up. you pushed your face onto your husband's shoulder, feeling actual care coming from him.

﹫ SHIGARAKI TOMURA; whenever you get frustrated over the smallest things he'd look at you dumb founded before telling you to calm down while he wrapped an arm around your back and rubbing your forearm... as you itched away the skin on your wrists.. ( without him knowing )

ㅤhe only realized that you had an itching problem after dabi pointed out that you have one. “yo, shig. didn't know your bitch has an itching problem like you back then. ” “the fuck are you talking about, dabi. ” “yo ass don't know? she itches her skin each time she gets mad. ” your boyfriend stared at the black haired lieutenant. the fucking hell is this burnt fuck talkin' about?

ㅤhe didn't exactly know what to do; should he trust dabi and talk to you about it or just play it off as some weird joke. again, he didn't know what to do or should do. so he just checked up on you at random, ( surprisingly ) most of the times you weren't angry when he did. so of course he decided to just play it off as a weird joke dabi said.

ㅤbut one day he catched you itching your arm furiously as you screamed at an PLF worker for making an idiotic decision, he screamed at your name and you stopped itching and yelling at the unfortunate worker.

ㅤyou turned back to your normal nature clasping your hands and saying “yes, dear? ” flowers decorating your aura. “follow me. ” he said you gladly followed after shooting a quick glare at the person you were yelling at awhile ago.

ㅤwhen you and tomura were in a more private area you asked him if he needed you to help him with something.. or something - but he shook his head and placed his hands on your shoulder blades. “whenever you get pissed and start itching yell out my name, i'll be here to calm you down. ” “wh- what are you talking about? ” you start laughing off what your dearly beloved boyfriend told you, a sweat dropping from your face.

ㅤ“[your/name], you know what i'm talking about. ” his grip on your shoulders tightened. “hey you don't need to worry i'm fine! i don't have an itching problem! ” you smile warm heartedly. he took your arm and showed the red scratch marks on it. “eh- i swear it only happens sometimes, it's oka- ” before you can countinue your sentence he pulled you into a hug. mumbling comforting words in your ear, telling you it's okay. everything will be okay.

﹫ GIGANTOMACHIA; he didn't notice that quickly since of course, he's large and your height is not that able to compare to his. he found out when you were itching both your arms so strongly to the point you started bleeding, the smell of metallic and the sound of itching made him wonder. he looked around but there was no one there, it was just you and him. he examined you more and realized you're the reason why there's a metallic scent in the air and the sound of itching.

ㅤ“master... what are you doing? ” he asked, you stopped itching. “ah, machia i thought you were still sleeping. ” you smiled up at him rubbing your arms and pulling down the sleeves of your clothing. “master.. ” he frowned, while your sweat dropped. he lifted you up using a finger and laid you on the palm of his large hand.

ㅤ“master, you may always tell me if you have a problem you and master all for one know more than anyone i can defeat your enemies if any of you told me to. ” even when gigantomachia had a terrifying appearance, he's a sweetheart at times.

ㅤyou held his chin with your small hands are kissed his nose “thank you, machia. but i'm alright, really. it's just a small habit, it won't affect me that much. ” you smiled at him, a blush formed on your cheeks knowing he cared about you and would rather die than live alone if you or all for one left him, all alone.

﹫ DABI; “compress stop protesting, my bitch managed to hit more idiots than you. ” your boyfriend smugly smirked at his co-worker, while compress stared at him and sighed.

ㅤyou started itching your knees and legs out of frustration from not being able to full combo a song in pjsk ( project sekai ) a few minutes later you started itching your neck and the side of your face.

ㅤdabi started getting concerned, so he stood up from the comfortable sofa and went towards you. your boyfriend's arms snaked around your waist, placing his hand on your hip before he lead you to his room. dabi entered the room, his hand still on your hip while he turned the dim light on.

ㅤ“you okay, baby?” dabi asked, settling you down on his messy bed. your boyfriend's hands on the sides of your arms awaiting your answer. “i'm fine i just got a bit frustrated is all!” you replied, a sweat dropping down your face. dabi's lazy eyes stare at your face then slowly descended to your neck, he leaned into you and started kissing your neck and collarbone. a small blush appeared on your features, your face still frowning.

ㅤwhen dabi was finished kissing your neck, he pecked on your lips. “let's go to sleep early. how's that sound, doll?” he asked. “okay.. ” you said before dabi fixed your position on his bed. discarding his jacket, shirt and pants leaving him in his boxers. dabi placed himself beside you. you automatically wrap one of your legs on his waist and bundled up on his chest. your head laid on his masculine arm while his hand entangled itself in your hair, he put his free hand on your lower back moving it up and down.

ㅤnight's like these weren't that rare, but it didn't happen all the time either. so you enjoyed every second of it, and so did your lover. he cares, it's obvious. when later that night while you were asleep he put ointment on the places you've been scratching.

[abitofboth]

even more owen carvour hcs because I’ve got brain worms or something

he got his ears pierced when he was younger, and even though he rarely wears them now, he’ll put studs in every now and then just so the holes won’t close up.

he’s a bit of an insomniac. sleep doesn’t come easy to him and he can spend hours just tossing and turning. half the time he’ll just give up and find something else to do- read a book, go over mission plans, sit at the window with a cigarette and watch the world go by.

a shakespeare snob through and through. he has a quote ready to go for every single situation possible and he doesn’t care how many eyes roll every time he whips one out.

he’s semi-decent at drawing. not the best, but he does have a sketchbook he uses in his downtime that he’ll draw whatever’s in front of him in.

he learnt how to hot wire cars when he was bumming around as a kid. every time he gets the chance to steal a car on a mission it’s like he’s 13 all over again, filled with the thrill of not getting caught.

he thinks mrs mega is maybe the best woman alive. her and her antics entertain him endlessly and he adores how much she loves curt. he hasn’t met her many times, but every time he gets the pleasure of staying at the safe house he finds himself wishing he had a mum like her.

he has a soft spot for barb. every time curt makes a mean passing remark about her he’ll smack him across the arm.

he’s thought about (more often than he’d like to admit) running away with curt. taking them both far from the danger and secrets and living life quietly as just the two of them. (and a cat. his fantasy definitely involves him being with curt and owning a cat. he has two hands for a reason!!)

he never got to meet tatiana before he was in his cunty villain era, but if curt and owen would have found her before the fall in their prime time I just KNOW that they would have been the ultimate team (I literally drew it hehe). owen and tati would have been bitchy best friends and I don’t even doubt it for a second.

he and curt have had so many “romantic” patching up sessions after missions. before they were officially together, there were so many uncertain gentle touches and lingering caresses where they both wish they could say and do more. the moments when there’s been some serious blood loss and things that would normally remain unsaid start slipping out are the moments when the two start realising that they might just feel the same way about each other. (I also literally wrote this hehe :P)

in a similarly trope-y way, there have been so many ‘Whoops! Only One Bed!’ situations. before they got together owen loved being able to sleep curled up right next to his crush (he hates the term ‘crush’ btw), and then after they got together it just gave him an excuse to spoon him all night long.

curt snores. owen hates it.

he can ride motorbikes and he can do it well. he loves when curt rides behind him and clings onto him with his arms around his waist. he drives extra fast to sate curt’s adrenaline junkie tendencies (and he loves the way curt laughs out of pure joy right next to his ear).

if he finds himself being tortured, as spies do, his go to is pretty much get so cocky and smarmy until it pisses off the torturer so much that owen can find an opportunity to overpower them and fight back. works like a charm.

once, he was captured and had his head forced underwater and was threatened with being drowned to death. the whole experience fucked him up for a good while.

regularly gets curt to light his cigarette for him while he’s holding it in his mouth.

every injury the fall gave him is a painful reminder of curt. even years down the line, every time a scar smarts or his knee plays up he’s filled with too many emotions to name.

he doesn’t actually remember a whole lot of the actual fall happening, it’s all very patchy, but he has vivid memories of curt’s horrified face getting further and further away from him as he got closer to the floor.

he learnt how to play an old family violin when he was a kid, and he’s gotten a little rusty over the years but he can still play a pretty tune on one.

he loves late night walks through cities. he thinks it’s the best way to really get to know a place. plus, it’s like he can hide in the shadows for a few hours and be someone other than owen carvour.

he’s a bit of a lightweight when it comes to booze. it doesn’t take many drinks to get him tipsy, and he’ll be full on drunk before you know it. curt can handle alcohol much better than him and has had to drag him away from bars more times than he can count.

he’ll frequently stop to fix curt’s tie and collar if they’re in disguise. everything needs to be perfectly in place or he thinks curt’ll look sloppy and give them away.

when they’re more into their relationship, owen starts buying in coffee to keep in his flat, and curt starts taking tea bags back to america with him every time he visits the uk.

spicy, be warned

post fall he tried sleeping with someone else but he could literally think of nothing but curt the entire time. he was never eager to try again.

if he’s in a submissive mood, he will go nuts if you call him a ‘good boy’. ‘my good boy’ is even better.

if he’s pent up he’ll just unashamedly jerk off in the shower whether he’s alone in there or not.

if he’s feeling particularly decadent and has the time, he’ll touch himself with a cigarette in his mouth and a bottle of wine in his hand.

shotgunning. he’ll take a drag and kiss it into curt’s mouth. they both think it’s hot as fuck.

if truth serum is something at their disposal, he's definitely used it during sex.