Save Him

bro is not slick

Swamp Star | Baldurs Gate 3

The accumulated Jason and leatherfaces sketches I drew

Sam Winchester Imagine Sam Winchester x plus size reader

“Damn Winchesters”

Imagine… Being a hunter and running into the boys on a hunt…..

You had them right where you wanted them.

If you weren’t so focused on finding out what you needed right now you might’ve given yourself a high five.

You had managed to work your way inside the hive of one of the most notoriously seedy vampire groups in the city.

It had taken you a year to track them down and months to research them enough to find the leader and take them down.

You’d dressed for the occasion and even sprayed yourself with a pheromone mix from a source that will not be disclosed.

You had them lured in and you knew you were on the menu tonight for the leader.

And that was exactly what you needed.

Get close to him and take his god damned head off.

You’d heard through the grapevine that this particular leader had a taste for larger women.

Of course, anyone who told you that had to accompany it with some kind of backhanded comment about it being  because he was several centuries old and large women in his time meant wealth and prosperity.

However, judging by the absolutely hoards of larger women he seemed to accumulate…you kinda doubted that.

If he wasn’t the same bloodsucker personally responsible for the death of a close friend of yours you might have been slightly impressed.

However, you’d played it up.

Researched him to a T.

And now you were perched on the bed of this creature, waiting for his return.

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

The door burst open followed by two men with guns.

“Get down!” they shouted at you and you looked at them in disbelief.

No.  

Fucking.

Way.

You’d worked too hard and too long for this just to have it fucked up by some little fucktard hunters who clearly hadn’t done enough research.

“Shut up!” you hissed at them.  "He’ll be back any second!“

"It’s ok. We’ll protect you.” the shorter one said.

You stared at them for a second before your eyes widened and a snarl curled your lips.

“You’re the god damned Winchesters aren’t you?” you snapped before shaking your head. “Son of a bitch!”

“Is this chick serious?” the shorter one said before looking to the taller one, “Sammy, is this for real?”

“Dean…” he sighed before turning back to you. “Listen, ma'am-”

You rolled your eyes at this ‘Sam’ and stood from the bed and started pulling clothes off.

Both of them looked at you like you’d grown three heads as parts of your plump body was revealed to be heavily decorated with weapons.

You pulled an axe from a harness that was attached to your back and stood poised and ready.

“We’re not gonna figh-” Dean started but the door opened behind them again and you launched the axe between their heads, spliting a vamp’s head clean in half.

Sam’s eyes widened when you threw a large hunting knife next hitting another vamp between the eyes.

They both went to ask you questions when you silenced them both with a raise of your hand.

“We gotta go.” you said.  "I had this shit under control but thanks to your hero complex, about a year and a half of work has just gone down the shitter.  So thanks for that, boy wonders.“

"Hey, we just saved your ass.” Dean snapped.

“I kinda doubt she needs saving.” Sam admitted as he bent over and retrieved you knife and axe before handing them to you.

“Shut up.” you hissed at them both. “I hear- duck!”

At that moment, dry wall split and desperate hands reached out to rip them apart but you popped back up with your knife in hand and began cutting limbs off where they were.

“Run!” you snapped. “We gotta get out of here before…”

“I knew there was something off about you, my pet.”

“Fuck.” you mouthed and closed your eyes briefly.

The three of you turned to see the head of the coven.

He was tall and blond, looking nothing short of some kind of Norse god but he was terrifying.

“That wasn’t very nice, princess.” he said.

“Well, I’m no princess.” you shrugged turning towards him…fully prepared to duke it out with him for as long as it took.

“I could change that.” he smirked.  "Change you and use your powers of seduction to lure in my meals.  Don’t think I haven’t noticed how everyone seems to lose their minds around you.  You have a gift, my dear. Use it.“ he drawled.

"I didn’t have to use anything with you.” you said quirking an eyebrow at him. “All I had to do was plant the seed that I did and you came running.”

He growled at you and lunged but Sam’s arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the way as Dean shot forward to deal with him.

“Hey!” you snapped at the bohemoth of a man before reaching down and snatching a throwing knife from your boot.

You tossed it to Dean.

“Through the nose! Through the nose!” you shouted at him.

Dean didn’t hesitate when he caught it and rammed it right up the vamp’s nose making him howl in pain.

“Drive it home!” you barked at him. “All the way!”

Dean rared back and punched it the rest of the way.

The vamp promptly burst into black flames and fell to the ground.

You finally managed to get loose from Sam and  pulled a box cutter from where it was hidden in the waist band on your jeans.

You leaned down and cut a small black stone out of the vamp’s chest and tossed it in your hand before slipping it in your pocket.

“It belonged to a friend of mine.” you glared at the both of them.  "And we’re not going to taint my memories of him by talking about it.  This has gotta be burned though.“

You lightly kicked the corpse with your foot.

Dean let out an impressed grin and a chuckle.

He bit his lip for a second, "You’re Y/N aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?” you asked, slightly irritated that they knew you.

You knew them but you were nosy and researched like your life depended on it…because it often did.

It surprised you more when you DIDN’T know another hunter.

“Y/N.” he repeated. “That hunter from (your hometown).  We’ve heard about you. A lot actually.  Never had the pleasure.”

“Well, I’d say I hope it was good but I’m fairly certain that it probably wasn’t.” you said lifting an eyebrow at Sam who was just staring at you.  

“Well, judging from your reaction to us…I’d say the same.” Dean chuckled. “Come on, let us buy you a beer.  Swap some war stories.  I’d love to hear about that wendigo in Lousiana.  We’ve encountered some of those nasty bastards ourselves.”

You jerked a thumb towards Sam, “Not to alarm you or anything but I think your Jolly Green Giant is broken.”

“Sammy, get in the car.” Dean rolled his eyes before turning to you. “Need a ride or?”

“Sure, I’ll ride with you.” you shrugged. “But just so ya know, I will make you suffer if you have any unsavory plans circling in that head of yours.”

Dean chuckled and tossed an arm around your shoulders before leading you towards the car.

It took a second for the both of you to turn and look at the still frozen Sam.

“Are you coming or not, big guy?” you smirked at him…and he nearly died on the spot.

Never in this LIFE had he ever witnessed something so perfect before.

You ducked into the back, expecting the long legged creature to ride shot gun but you were slightly surprised when he climbed back there with you.

“Hey.” Dean warned, amusement twinkling in his green eyes.  "No funny business in baby.“

"Baby?” you asked curiously.

Dean patted the dash lovingly and said, “Yeah…”

You chuckled at his clear unhealthy obsession with his car but sat back anyway as he sped off down the road.

You turned and took in the man next to you.

Sam was an extraordinarily large man.

Tall with long legs, clearly lean but muscular but hell, he was just big.

Big arms, broad shoulders.

His damn hands were huge…and they were shaking slightly.

You don’t know what possessed you to do it but you reached out and placed your hands on his, slowly peeling them apart.

You brought the one closest to you over, resting the back of it on your squishy, soft stomach and you traced the lines and callouses of his hands with your chubby fingers.

It was quite in the car with nothing but Dean’s Led Zeppelin playing from the radio and the sound of the wind whipping from the open window.

What you did not see was Sam.

How he stared at you in absolute adoration and awe.

He had NEVER seen anything like you.

Your perfect little chubby cheeks and round face.

Chubby fingers running all over his skin.

Thick thighs that looked so impossibly soft it was making his hands shake just to think about touching them.  

And your skin just felt like fire and frost together.

He was nearly drunk with it and you hadn’t even gotten to the bar.

A coy look from his brother through the rear view mirror told him that it was written all over his face.

But Sam didn’t care.

You were EVERYTHING to him.

He didn’t have much in this life of his…but he had no plans of letting you go.  

Like this? Want more? Let me know! Stories coming soon! Want to read more of my works? Check out my Mibba (it’s a writing site, lol, for those who don’t know).  Link on profile! Got a request? Send it in!

Random Art the clown headcanons part 2

warnings: these are actually random, so some contain nsfw!.

the horn goes every damn where with him. like, every where. “art, i’m right here. you don’t need to honk that damn thing.”/*he ignores you* “HONK!”

high key gets jealous. say you have a friend, doesn’t matter the gender, they’ll most likely end up dead or badly injured.

it’s big. and he knows how to use it.

when you guys text each other he mostly uses emojis. “😜😈🤫”/“what does that even mean??”

when he eats you out it’s sloppy. it could be your ass or pussy, sloppy asf.

him and both pennywise’s are friends, so the usually sometimes go on killing sprees together.

sometimes you can tell when he’s cussing you out silently (besides when he flips you off).

loves holding hands with you all the time. he’s so silly goose!!

okay hope you enjoyed!!

masterlist!

part 1!

Blood of A Rose - Turning Point (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Summary - (Y/n) has always dealt with harsh criticism when it came to her work, but that never meant she was immune.

Notes - Sorry for the wait for a new post! I decided that weekends will be my off days from writing to preserve my sanity 💀

Word Count - 2,031

Warning(s) - Bullying, violence, mild gore

Song Inspiration -

Acsida - Privet Privet 2009

(Y/n)’s small living room was dimly lit by soft, flickering candlelight, casting shadows across the walls that seemed to stretch and twist in strange patterns as her TV hummed in the background. She sat on the floor, legs outstretched as her back leaned against the couch, absentmindedly working on a small canvas resting on her lap. 

Art lounged on the couch behind her, his head tilted as he silently browsed through channels, glancing down at (Y/n) and her work occasionally. His now pristine hand played with her hair mindlessly, combing his fingers through it as he found the texture satisfying. 

(Y/n) didn’t mind, though. It made her aware of his otherwise silent presence, which she had come to call home. It soothed her and kept her relaxed as she worked. 

Through their time together, they soon found that regardless of nearly being polar opposites, her more calm and reserved demeanor greatly complimented his boldness and chaos. Their shared interest in death was what drew them to each other, but everything else just seemed to perfectly fall into place for them. 

Art surprisingly came to respect her personality as she respected his. It was refreshing for him, in a way, which he never thought was even possible until she proved him otherwise. 

It started out as curiosity, wanting to understand how someone with such interests could be so tame. That curiosity then grew into an obsession, taking note of her smallest behaviors. Whether it was the way her nose twitched when she didn’t like something, or simply her breathing patterns. He knew everything there was to know about her. 

She dabbed her brush into a deep crimson, dragging it across the canvas in harsh, deliberate strokes. (Y/n) could feel Art’s gaze lingering on the piece, and for a moment, she wondered what ran through his head when he saw her art. 

“You like it?” She asked, her voice soft and curious. 

Art didn’t respond with words, as usual. Instead, he sat up, his silent movements almost ghostly as he leaned over her shoulder. His head cocked from one side to the other as he carefully observed the piece. He then grinned with a thumbs up, patting her shoulder in approval. She placed her free hand over his.

“Thanks.” (Y/n) giggled.

“I just don’t understand how someone would  think it’s appropriate to ever publicize something like that.” 

The laughter stopped, both of them looking up to the TV screen settled on a talk show. 

“I mean, think of the children! They could run into it on the internet and be traumatized and need therapy.” 

(Y/n)’s gaze hardened, heart beginning to race as she took in their insults. She chewed her lip as she watched, nearly drawing blood.

“Trust me, I don’t think they’re the only ones who need therapy -“ 

The channel suddenly changed, remote in Art’s hand as he frowned at the screen and waved it off in distaste. He then looked down at (Y/n) who began to calmly clean up her area. 

Too calmly. 

She stood up, taking her supplies with her as she made her way to the sink to clean everything off. His eyes followed her carefully, paying attention to every minor difference or change. As soon as he caught her mouth twitch he rose from the couch. 

He walked over to her, or rather stalked, and slapped a hand on the counter beside the sink as he faced her, leaning against it. She didn’t look at him until she was finished cleaning, drying her hands and giving him her best smile, albeit fake. 

His grin was wide, encouraging, and he motioned for her to do the same with his fingers. When she didn’t and simply giggled half heartedly, his smile dropped and he tapped his chin in thought. 

Art’s expression then turned mischievous, baring his teeth again with a Cheshire smile as his hands slowly reached for her, his fingers wiggling menacingly. 

“No.” (Y/n) pleaded at first, taking a hesitant step back. “No - Art!”

She shrieked when he snatched her, holding her against him as he tickled her relentlessly. He laughed silently as she squirmed and cackled, using all of her strength to try and worm her way out of his grip, but they both knew he was far too strong for such a feat. 

“Okay! Art, I’m fine - I’m okay now!” The clown stopped tickling, but still held her. He peeked his head from around her to watch her face to determine if she was lying or not. 

As (Y/n) caught her breath, she looked up at Art with the usual glimmer in her eye that he so adored and he firmly nodded before letting her go. 

She sighed dramatically and he wiped his hands off together proudly, giving her an ‘ok’ symbol with a wink and heading back to the couch with a pep in his step. 

(Y/n) shook her head in exasperation, rubbing at her temple before following him. 

The following day, they both worked in silence at their hideout. Art sat at his workbench, tinkering away while (Y/n) sat on the floor against the stove beside the desk, filtering through her photos on her camera. A small radio played in the background, (Y/n) humming to a familiar song every now and then while Art nodded along with her. 

It was one of their calmer nights, the two of them deciding not to go out and to simply spend time with each other, even if it was just sitting in the other’s company. 

(Y/n) saw Art’s hand motion for her in her peripherals, looking up at him finally. He pointed to her then to the stool left unused, then to the floor and flung his hand out as an exasperated question. 

“I’m comfortable, Art, I promise.” 

(Y/n) giggled when his head ticked at her stubbornness. He then pointed back at the stool aggressively, and then next to the edge of the desk with a determined expression. 

“You want me to be closer to you?” Art nodded and she laughed. “Well why didn’t you just say that?” 

She nearly snorted as she stood up when Art threw out it arms, silently telling her ‘what the fuck?’. She brought the stool over to his desk and sat on top of it, camera in hand for her to resume what she had previously been doing. 

Her laughter died down to a chuckle. “You know I love teasing you, I hardly ever get to.” (Y/n) reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze. Art rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her before turning back to continue modifying one of his weapons. 

“I personally think she’s just trying to use shock value to get some traction on her work.”

Their ears caught as they continued to work, however Art glanced over at (Y/n) every now and then. 

“She’s trying so hard to shove it down our throats for attention when it’s nothing more than glorified gore.”

“Be glad I don’t shove something else down your throats…” (Y/n) grumbled to herself, the initial pain of their insults gradually seeping through into anger and irritability. 

The clown’s movements froze at her words as he stared at the desk in front of him with parted lips. 

With however long they had been together, not once had he heard her threaten another person, regardless if it was empty or not. She had always kept quiet and to herself when met with confrontation while he was the one who dealt with it accordingly. At least, what he considered to be accordingly. 

Art slowly shifted his eyes over to look at her, seeing her click the buttons on her camera casually as if she never said anything. 

And for once, he wondered if he was going crazy. 

He then looked back at the weapon in front of him, glanced at her once more, then slowly went back to working. 

One night, however, they decided to go out once they began to feel a sense of boredom, something they both passionately detested. 

Feeling particularly clingy, (Y/n) took to latching herself onto Art’s arm rather than just holding his hand. He gladly accepted it, throwing her a giddy smile and practically shaking with excitement. 

As they walked, (Y/n) noticed how much more comfortable she had become walking out in public. Art fed into her confidence, deliberately or not, and she held her head higher. He made her feel appreciated, feel important in a world where all she had before him was herself and the captious stares of those around her.

On the more rare occasions where she walked out on the town by herself to grab a bite to eat or restock on supplies, she crawled back into herself ever so slightly. Regardless, she was still more self-assured than she previously had been. 

“Maybe something with feet? I feel like I don’t focus on feet enough.” (Y/n) thought out. 

Art simply listened from beside her, genuinely intrigued and in his own thoughts about what he could do with his next victim - or victims - for her. 

She gasped suddenly and Art, ever the dramatic, jumped with a surprised expression. “A mouth!” (Y/n) looked over at him with an animated expression. 

Art tilted his head at her with his eyebrows raised, letting her know that he agreed. 

“Mouth it is tonight.” The clown wiggled his eyebrows at her perversely and she lightly backhanded his chest. 

“Oh shit, are you (Y/n)?” They heard a somewhat distant voice express. Ahead of them, a woman leaned against a wall, phone in hand as she waited beside a small food joint. 

Art and (Y/n) shared a suspicious look, continuing to walk until they were close enough to decently communicate. “Yes?” She answered with caution. 

Art made a simple decision from beside her, accepting the woman’s unwilling offer that was too easy to pass as he set down his bag while they talked. “This is so weird seeing you in person. I always hear about you but never thought I’d actually meet you!” 

(Y/n)’s eyes squinted with confusion, unsure of where the interaction was going to lead to. “Thanks? Like is that supposed to be a compliment?” She replied warily, almost irritably. 

“Oh no, I’m not a fan or anything, it’s just weird finally seeing someone you hear about a lot.” (Y/n) deadpanned, a familiar feeling of distaste building in her abdomen. 

Art, however, rather than growing defensive and upset, looked over at her curiously, letting the conversation work itself out with underlying mischief.

“It’s like if you met Jeffrey Dahmer in person, you’d just look at them like what the fuck, because of the shit they’ve done, y’know?” 

(Y/n)’s tongue ran along the inside of her cheek, casually looking over at the clown’s bag on the ground. As the woman continued to ramble, (Y/n) stepped over to it and began to search through its contents.

Art’s eyes widened, a grin spreading wide across his painted face in anticipation. “Like if the word edgy was a person -“ 

The woman was cut off as a shot echoed through the town. 

Art watched as the woman slid off of the wall and thumped onto the ground, then eased his eyes to look over at (Y/n). 

Arm straight out, the gun in her hand pointed at the bleeding woman with an indifferent expression, then lowered with a heavy sigh as she turned to toss it back into his bag after turning on the safety.

“I’m tired of this shit.” She mumbled to herself and rubbed at her forehead then looked up at Art. “Sorry. Let’s go find someone else for you.” 

Art was rigid where he stood, staring at her with an intensity that began to pull her out of her vexed state. He took a step towards her with predatory intent, grabbing the back of her neck and tugging her into him, their lips crashing together unexpectedly. 

(Y/n) froze at first, caught off guard by his behavior before she slowly began to melt into it, cupping his jaw in her hands. She gasped breathlessly for air when they parted as he silently heaved. 

“Does that mean I’m next?” She whispered. He flashed his teeth sadistically, leaning in once more.

Tag list: @callsignwidow

SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER (2021)

Make Me Sway (Thomas Hewitt x Reader) + RQs info

Summary: After going on a road trip with your friends, you become the sole survivor of the group, trapped in the Hewitt’s residence, because Thomas doesn’t like the idea of you getting killed as you show him humanity and fearlessness in the face of death.

Part 1

Part 2 and 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9 (NSFW)

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Notes: This story happens somewhere between the events of Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning (2006) and Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003)

Warnings: Violence, Mention of rape, Trauma

Content: Reader has moodswings due to trauma, and is acting on irrational impulses, however has a strong/fearless personality, wittiness and calm nature despite the circumstances, Thomas is confused by his emotions, he knows he should kill you, but he doesn’t want to, Fluff/Smut coming your way 

REQUESTS INFO:

What I will write:

NSFW

SFW

Headcanons

Oneshots

Who I write for:

Thomas Hewitt

Michael Myers

Jason Voorhees

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer

One-eye/Sawtooth/Three-finger (Hilliker brothers)

All League of Legends champions

Anime characters

random art the clown headcanons part 1

warnings: these are actually random, which means some contain nsfw!.

all he does is troll. like literally troll around. especially with you. always pulling little pranks on you with the little pale girl. there’s not one day where he doesn’t at least chuckle at you. not one.

if y’all are in a relationship be prepared for his random horny/cuddly activities. one second he’s pissed at you, the next he’s cuddling you and giving you kisses.

speaking of him being pissed, you’ll know when he’s pissed off at you. he’ll give the silent treatment. even tho he can’t talk he won’t even look at you. kinda like a child. but he’s a big baby, what do you expect?

he eats off your plate all the time. so does the little girl. “y’all might as well just take the whole damn plate.” you said one time. they laughed…and then took it.

plays hide and seek with you at least once a week.

if you brush your nose against his, while looking in his eyes… be prepared to not be able to walk for a while.

he’s so nosy. always in your phone and shit, or whatever device you mostly use, he’s all up in it.

okay that’s all i have right now. hope you enjoyed!

masterlist!