#HOLDS HIM TO MY CHEST . ILL KEEP HIM SAFE .

[funkily]

points speechlessly and afraid at mythicalsausage . gestures wildly

[tbaluver]

Hi ,may I request LaDs boys headcanons with rope/handcuffs, etc.?

Using Handcuffs- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: 18+, suggestive content, MDNI, filthy filthy smut, smut with no plot i think a/n: hi anonnie i hope this was okay ! i added some smut after the head canons bc i've been busy with school but ill have some more content out for you guys later this week ! ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Would use handcuffs for roleplay because him a uniform is kind of hot. The handcuffs would be from the Linkon police station so both of you have to do your best to not leave any evidence of what y'all did with the handcuffs.

He would be worried at first if the handcuffs were hurting you so you two would create a safe word just in case.

Would take his time with you, listening very carefully to the reactions he does to your body. He'll press wet hot kisses and trail his tongue all over your body. Makes sure to appreciate every part and inch. He might even tease you by pinching or rubbing swirls with his tongue on your hardened nipples while making eye contact with you.

── .✦

“You’re under arrest.”

He pulls away from the heated kiss, securing your other wrist and pinning you firmly against the bed. He gazes down at your body, one finger tracing your shapes and curve. His evol police uniform was a mess, his hair disheveled and nearly every button was undone.

 He removes his belt with ease, eagerly trying to release his throbbing cock from his work pants. As he takes off his uniform, his toned chest and muscles are fully revealed, while he leans down towards you. He sucks and swirls his tongue around your hard bud and lavishes the other with the shared attention with your other breast.

He lets one free hand slide between your legs, carefully exploring your soft lips before easing his shaft into you. You wish you could hold onto him for support but instead you can only grasp the metal restraints on your wrists.

He places open wet kisses along your neck, as he slowly eased in and out of you, pulling out with soft moans. You clench around his cock as your legs wrap around his waist, providing the only support you can manage while your wrists remain restrained.

“Xa-Xavier, please.” You begged, and he shoves himself deeper inside of you until your bellies meet. It felt as if the air in your lungs pushed out as you fought the wave of pleasure that was pounding into you.

“Sorry criminals don’t deserve rewards.”

You tried to keep yourself together but you knew you were closer to falling apart beneath him. His back muscles flexed as he thrusted sharp and fast into you. Small clips of words and pants slipped out of your lips as your legs shake around him. You were a whimpering mess below him as both of you met your sweet release. His thrusts got shallow and erratic as his breath was hot against your skin. He rested his head on your shoulders as he let out a soft sigh.

He slowly looked up at you and smiled softly. The lust and arousal in his eyes are gone, and he leans down to kiss you passionately, as if it’s been weeks since he last did. He pulls away, his fingers softly curve around your cheek.

“Xavier what did I do to become a criminal?”

“For stealing my heart.”

Zayne:

If you were being a brat or stubborn he would use handcuffs to mainly teach you a lesson. Would leave you a whimpering and babbling mess until you admit what you did was wrong.

Although he is trying to teach you a lesson, he'll always make sure to make you finish first, no matter how overstimulated you are, and he'll finish right after you. He'll start off using his fingers or using a vibrator before he fully puts his cock inside you.

Does not like to use rope because he worries that it might give you rope burn so he prefers using handcuffs to easily get you out of it.

Likes to play with your hardened nipples with his slender fingers or his tongue or at the same time. He finds it amusing to know it's that easy to get them hard.

── .✦

It didn’t have to come to this. The point of having to use restraints on you for not following his instructions. It seems you continue to be stubborn. He had to teach you a lesson or two or more.

You had no idea how long it has been since you’ve been tied to this bed. You lost count on how many rounds he has done. Taking and taking, until there is nothing left of you but only a mess he has created. 

Your legs were spread wide open as he held the vibrator to your clit again. “ngh- pl-please Zayne..no more need you.” you pleaded as you fidget your arms and the metal of handcuffs clang against the bedframe of the bed.

He scoffed, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “I’ll release you, but only on one condition.” The bed shifts and you can feel him hovering over you. Leaning in, he whispers into your ear, “No touching.” You bite your lip, nodding frantically as he frees your wrists from the handcuffs.

He pumps his cock a couple times before he enters inside of you. The sight of him and his aching red tip somehow produce more juices out of you. Whimpering at the stretch of his girth, your fingers grip the bed sheets to the point your knuckles are turning white. He trails reassuring lips to your jaw and to your neck so you can relax as he continues to fully go inside you. He holds onto your thighs for support so he can hit the exact spot that you love. He rocks his hips, his pace starts off slowly. Once he feels you squeeze him, he picks up the pace, the drag of his cock against your sweet spot leaving you in a trance.

He pounds into you, making your tits bounce. You latch your arms around his back to find some support and hold on for the ride. With every thrust, you're getting closer and closer to your sweet release. His name falling out of your mouth, gasping in between the words,  as he fucks you through your high.

Keeping a tight grip on his back, you finally let go, meeting the wave of euphoria that passes through your system and erupts out of your body. You slowly ease your arms off his back, only to feel him grasp one of your hands and secure it back onto the bed frame of the bed.

“Looks like you still haven’t learned your lesson.”

You were in for quite a long night.

Rafayel:

He likes using the handcuffs from time to time. He gets hard off watching you struggle to desperately touch him. He likes watching the puddle of mess your pussy makes all just for him.

He'll like to tease or overstimulate you by edging or putting a vibrator in you til you have you're begging him to touch you.

However if you were the one to tie him up, oh boy, this man would be a whimpering and babbling mess under or over you, depending on the position you have him in. If you wanted to be a little tease, you can blindfold him so he doesn't get to see you. It wouldn't take him long for him to be begging you to let him go so he can touch and see you.

── .✦

He had you tied up to the bed as he slipped a bullet vibrator in you. He steps away from the bed, leaving it feeling empty as he stands fully upright in front of you. He takes in your half naked appearance that’s restrained in handcuffs and he smirks in amusement. Pointing the remote at you, he turns it on, and you feel a slow, pulsing buzz begin.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t finish without me, kay?” He tilts his head with a mischievous grin and he waves the remote playfully before stepping out of the bedroom.

You bite your bottom lip, the sensation swirling around you, pulsing and making you crave his tasty cock. You let out moans and pants as he switches the modes that remind you of him. Your cunt practically fluttering around the vibrator and you struggle to not rock into it.

You're practically yelling and begging for him as the vibrations would go in a pattern of highs and lows that left you aching and stimulated without any direct touches. With your eyes tightly shut, you didn’t even notice him leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smirk on his lips, as he fiddled with the vibrators settings. He’s been watching you now for quite some time, clearly amused by the mess you made of yourself.

“Geez cutie, all this for me? I’m flattered.” He teases, kneeling between your legs, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers to take a closer look at your soaking pussy.

“I’m feeling generous from your performance earlier.” He says as he removes the vibrator and replaces it by massaging your clit in gentle circles. You roll your hips to match his pace as much as you can. He slides a finger into your pussy, massaging the insides of your walls, leaving you whining and desperate for more. His fingers speed up, filling the room with lewd sounds of his pretty fingers pumping in and out of your slick cunt.

He couldn’t help it. He’d grip your thighs as he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You can hear the sounds of him tasting you, soft lapping and little pleased whimpers from the back of his throat make your toes curl and hips jump for more. Oh how you desperately want to run your fingers through his hair and hold his head down against your pussy until he makes you cum again and again.

He latches onto your clit, sucking gently in between harsh presses with the tip of his tongue. Your cunt clenched tightly and your body finally gave in. You gasp, hips jolting towards his pretty mouth when you cum, your clit throbbing against his tongue. His chin glistened from your juices. He climbs on top of you, locking eyes with a playful grin. Tilting his head, he asks with a mischievous smile,

“How about an encore, cutie?”

Sylus:

Will use it for roleplay or for brat taming you. Sometimes he can be a sub and he'll let you tie him up. He doesn't mind if it were handcuffs or rope. He finds it arousing that you were the one dominating him. However if you do test his patience too much, don't expect him to go easy on you next time.

If he were to use rope, he doesn't tie them that tight. He would have your wrists and legs tied depending on the position.

If it were doggy, he'd have your wrists tied up and you'd use your elbows for support while he pounds into you from the behind. Sometimes he'll smack your ass.

Sometimes he'll do penetration so you can feel his cock deeper inside of you.

── .✦

“This is how you keep your prey sweetie.”

You never should doubt your lover for his way of things. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have been easily restrained to your shared bed in a blink of an eye. He stands over the bed, amused at your naked form.

Sylus has taught you many things- how to handle a gun better, the art of sparring, and how to keep your prey engaged. It’s been a while since you had him restrained at the bed while searching for the brooch, only to realize he could have easily escaped the restraints. You silently cursed yourself for your oversight and for trusting the twins.

“The more you struggle, the more I plan to keep you there.” He chuckles, watching you struggling to get the restraints loose.

He steps closer to you and leans over. “Tell me, how do you plan on escaping?” 

You shift under him trying to use your legs to attack but he was able to push your legs down with ease. He presses over your restrained wrists before interlocking them with his own hands. He hovers over you with a smile as if he was taunting you. You lean up and kiss him on his lips, only to leave him laughing deeply.

“That doesn’t work so easily on me this time sweetie.” He smirks, resting his weight beside you in bed.

His slender fingers poke around your entrance. His ring and index finger slid in with ease due to your soaking cunt. He started to curl his fingers around until he found your sweet spot. He knows he found it when your back arches off the mattress and you let out a moan. He rubs the same spot over and over again before he plants his skilled wet tongue over your clit to push you right over the edge. Your walls clench and pulsate around his fingers as your legs start to shake on either side of his head. You threw your head back into the soft pillows, soft pants and his name spilling out of your mouth as the orgasm rocks through your system.

He looks up at you, his red eyes mixed with determination and arousal.

“I’m not done with you princess, just a little more.”

[xenteaart]

you are not difficult

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but it can fit any au, really) word count: no idea but it's short genre/warnings: er, angst, hurt/comfort, implied suffering w depression, implied history of SH. also implied shitty ex. so PLS keep that in mind before you read. also, it's all good in the end. author's note: it's a self comfort thing y'all but i hope you like it too.

it was yet another night where everything felt too much and you kinda hated yourself for it. bad day, maybe some hormonal imbalance due to a certain time in your cycle, history of mental illness — it's hard to put a finger on the exact cause. you're sick of trying, anyways.

chris was, of course, right there for you, and as you were falling apart in his arms, your entire soul was aching so bad that it made you want to crawl out of your own skin. it's usually like that, everywhere in your body like some sort of extreme inflammation, except physically you're perfectly fine.

"'m sorry…" you blurt out somewhere between your sobs and cries, still unable to hold eye contact with him.

"baby, you have nothing to be sorry for," chan shakes his head and keeps rubbing circles into your back, just between the shoulder blades where the ache feels the most excruciating.

"kiss me?" you squeak. almost pathetic, honestly, but it's always been your way of checking, whether he still wants you. whether he still loves you and desires you, even at your lowest, even with your mascara all smudged over your cheeks, eyes puffy and red, lips slightly irritated and swollen. even when there's a gaping black hole where the heart is supposed to be.

chris doesn't even question it, really. he simply leans in and gives you a long sweet kiss full of both a partner's tenderness and a lover's lust, so, so willing to do whatever it takes to calm the thunderstorm inside your mind and ease your struggle.

the kiss doesn't really satisfy you, the feeling is still there.

"sorry," you whisper again as you breathe out into chan's lips but the intimate contact doesn't last long. chris frowns and makes some distance between you two to look into your eyes.

"why? baby, why do you keep apologizing?" he sounds gentle but still slightly frustrated.

"i dunno? cos 'm difficult? for bein' difficult?"

there's a silence as he blinks a few times, processing and putting two and two together.

"just because it was difficult for them to love you and take care of you, doesn’t make you difficult. you are not difficult. like, at all," he puts on his serious tone, the one he uses for you when you can't see the obvious and he has to remind you.

you don't really know what to say to that, so you keep playing with the tissue paper in your hands, ripping it apart piece by piece just to keep yourself busy and focused on something other than the burning ache in your chest.

"dealing with mental health isn't easy, that one is true, baby, but it's so easy to love you. you are easy to love. even now, looking so small and in pain but it's still you, and my duty as your boyfriend is to take care of you when you can't. and, hell, you're one of the most capable people i know, so please just let me hold your hand through it once in a while, yeah?" chan speaks slowly and quietly, as if to make every single word sink in, tenderly forcing it into your stupid lovely brain that refuses to cooperate sometimes.

chris feels safe. he feels like lighting up a cookie scented candle after a long day at work. he's the feeling of the ocean timidly licking at your feet and burying them deeper into warm wet sand. chris is the first sip of coffee in the morning and the cold side of the pillow at night. he's everything worth living and trying for.

"thank you," is the only thing you manage to say, but in the way you lean back into his embrace he's able to read a lot more.

"do you want a nice mug o' hot chocolate and some fairy bread, baby?"

this question makes you hiccup and sob once again. you nod and nuzzle closer into the crook of his neck.

[highvern]

YUCK

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive moments

warnings: mentions of illness/body fluids (snot, vomit), avoidant attachment from reader, Hoshi best boy

Length: ~2.9k

Note: more of this couples bc im crazy thank u @gyuswhore

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], Talk [a, s, f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Two and a half months of hooking up with a guy who may or may not be a furry and things start feeling…comfortable. 

You’ll pretend until the day you die that every time the weekend rolls around you won’t end up naked in Soonyoung’s bed. Or your own. Usually it is your own because he has more roommates than you and yours leaves to stay at her boyfriend’s until Monday night which means there is no need to keep quiet (which you and Soonyoung both struggle with but you refuse to acknowledge that fact). 

It allows for many nights bent over the kitchen counter, Soonyoung’s chest hot against the back of your thighs as he works you up with his mouth. Or occasional nights on the couch after you both are too into each other to make it upstairs to your room, planted firmly in his lap while pinning his hands to the cushions. There's also the nights he drags you straight to bed and demonstrates exactly what all the pictures you took while tucked away in the privacy of a gross bar bathroom did to him. 

You’re pretty sure Soonyoung has picked up on your game by now because instead of asking ‘if’ he’s taken to asking ‘when’ he can come over. And it's annoying that it doesn’t really annoy you at all.

Soonyoung comes over on Friday nights and leaves Saturday afternoon, except when he shows up on Saturday mornings and stays well into Sunday night. Or the occasional weekend where you remember who you are and show up on his door and leave three hours later with cum still drying on your thigh as you walk past his roommates still pregaming in the living room.

Except now it's Friday and you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the inside of a toilet bowl and the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

Call it food poisoning or maybe the flu, but you’ve been in and out of sleep since the early hours of dawn. Shivering on the floor, the only company you have is a pile of dirty clothes. Even the crack of light under the door is too much stimulation for your illness-racked brain to tolerate.

“Y/N?” your roommate calls from the other side of the darkness, out in the hallway where it's safe from whatever curse is making home in your gut. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine,” you groan. Your words couldn’t convince the deaf but you try anyway. 

She responds but it slips right past because another bout of nausea takes hold.

You manage to fall asleep at some point, clammy on the floor with aching hips. Maybe an hour or maybe ten minutes. It doesn't really make a difference because you still feel like shit when the door opens and the hall light burns through your retinas.

“Hazel, I said I’m— What are you doing here?” you croak from the floor. 

Soonyoung stairs down at you, face soft with something that might be worry but it’s probably just the fever melting your brain. “You look like shit.” 

“You always know just what to say.” The usual snark isn’t there, replaced by a pathetic helpless whine of discomfort because all you want is to curl up and die. “Did you come to insult me or…?”

“Hazel let me know you were sick and usually sick people need medicine and soup so I brought that and this tea my mom used to give me as a kid.” 

“Are you trying to cure me so you can get your dick wet?” 

“No. If I wanted to stick my dick in a Petri dish I feel like there are easier ways to go about it.” He kneels right next to you like he isn’t the slightest bit concerned about catching the plague brewing in your immune system. A cool hand cups your cheek, thumb gentle at your temple where a dull throb has haunted you all day. You lean into the comforting touch without much thought.  “When was the last time you showered?” 

“I don’t know. Like two days ago?” 

“Yeah, I can smell that. Alright my little germ cell, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

His arms snake under yours, dragging you from the floor even with your muscles limp. It takes more maneuvering but you don’t bother helping. If he wants to play not-so-sexy nurse and patient then that's his problem. The warmth of his sweater is welcome though. 

“Is this some weird fetish thing?” Nose buried in Soonyoung’s chest, it comes out in a jumble. “Because I can’t handle this and the furry stuff.” 

“Yes, caring about your health is a fetish for me. Really gets me off knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken your vitamins.” 

“I knew it.” you whisper. “I’m not calling you daddy if that’s what you want.” 

Soonyoung laughs and the movement sends another bolt of pain through your skull. He tuts over your responding whimper and what may be his lips press to the side of your head briefly. It’s warm and comforting, the beat of his heart lulling you into the first satisfying rest since you woke up. Your hands bunching the front of his shirt are desperate for anything to keep you steady. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t release you while setting things up for a shower; accommodating for your weight with a slow shuffle and more placating coos against your hairline every time you protest a sudden jostle. The chill of the bathroom fully sets in when he pushes down your sweats and shucks off your snot stained sweater before tossing away his own. If you weren’t barely functioning it might even be impressive that he’s kept you in his arms the entire time.

“If you’re trying to fuck me, I hope you don’t mind snot.” You blow your nose against the curve of his neck just to be a bitch. 

You feel more naked under the stream of water than you ever have, which is ironic given you’ve had Soonyoung face to crotch more times than you can count. Something about the non-sexual nature of nudeness, feeling the least sexy you ever have while he scrubs you down with gentle hands, turns your stomach more than before.

“I’m not trying to fuck you,” he laughs again; a thousand volts straight to the heart. “Don’t worry.” 

You pop out of hiding, hurt by the idea. “You don’t want to fuck me?” 

Soonyoung’s face is soft, cheeks round and hair already damp to his forehead. He isn’t disgusted by the puke on your breath or the sweat matting your hair. Or if he is, he hides it well. “I always want to fuck you but right now I’m trying to make sure you don’t die.” 

You dive back into his shoulder, mind numb to anything beyond the silky feel of hands washing away days of ick. You’ve felt his hands on almost every part of your body but right now they lack the characteristic urgency from those moments where you can’t get enough of each other quick enough. He’s touching you the way he does in the glow of the moon after you’ve both been satisfied, when Soonyoung thinks you’re asleep and you let him as every curve and dip and hill of your body is covered in gentle strokes like he’s committing you to memory.

“I can do that on my own,” you argue. 

The facts aren’t stacked in your favor right now but it’s the principle: you don’t need him to take care of you. You can handle it on your own. He’s only here because you let him.

“Oh, I know. Now close your eyes so I don’t get soap in them.”

He cups your face, thumbs rubbing away the sweat that's been caked on since morning. Then it’s a rough washcloth doused in the scent of your face wash but you swat it away in favor of the calluses on his fingers. If you weren’t a dead woman walking he’d never get a chance to be this close. 

How is it more terrifying for someone to wipe away your boogers than let him see you naked multiple times a week? A question knotting your stomach into tight pieces as Soonyoung hums some tune you don’t recognize like he’s more than happy to do so.

Your brain stops working after so long; too exhausted from everything to think more about what this all means. Not even the familiar flat press of his front against yours can incite a response beyond content. All the world shrinks into the pitter patter of the water swirling around the drain, and the parts that are warmed by Soonyoung and the parts that are waiting to be.

When you come back to awareness, the waters off and he is whispering something into your clammy forehead.

“Hmmm?” 

“I said, it’s time to get out.”

More shuffling gets you back into your room where the mattress takes your weight while he digs around for fresh clothes. You roll onto your side, clad in a towel and nothing else, resound to fall asleep then and there.

“Alright, arms up,” he commands. 

You try to pull away, diving back into the pillow soaked from your hair but Soonyoung gets you up at the waist, maneuvering stiff limbs patiently.

“Do you have an armpit fetish too?” you ask with the collar stuck around the top of your head. 

“And you call me a freak?”

Next is pants, and it takes a few tries for you to even consider being helpful. Soonyoung lifts each leg individually, working the fabric as far as he can. Then a few dramatic grunts from coordinating your entire body weight but you’re back in a clean pair of pajamas and tucked under the covers. Soonyoung didn’t rise to any more of your snide remarks about being naked. He simply avoiding your bare skin like it’d burn. Not even his favorite thing about you (boobs) gets any attention, just a few chuckles and more kisses into your temple.

You melt into the plush mattress, hidden beneath a pile of blankets from the cruel world that cursed you with new realizations you're not prepared for just yet. 

Eyes closed the entire time, you hear Soonyoung leave without so much as a goodbye. In theory it’s what you want. Exactly how you prefer; you alone, him somewhere you can pretend all the confounding feelings don’t exist. You didn’t even want him to show up in the first place, but now that he’s been here and you’re horrifically aware how nice it feels to have someone take care of you. You miss him. 

And as soon as the pit opens up, you hear someone shuffling down the hall coming towards your room.

“Alright, once you eat something you can sleep.”

The thought of food tightens your stomach more than the fact he didn’t leave you but he’s right. You need fluids and you’re not strong willed enough to get them yourself.

After the first few bites, you feel a little more human and less like a walking sack of shit. With it, the discomfort of this entire ordeal rears with a new vengeance. 

“Why are you here?” It sounds like an accusation.

He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Because I like you.” 

Soonyoung says it matter of factly, the same way the sky is blue and water is wet, while shoving another bite into your mouth.

You’re too exhausted for a fight right now; not with the only person making a real effort to keep you alive, but the instinct is strong after years of low expectations and plenty of disappointment.

“Why?” 

“Because I just do.” 

Your eyes meet over the spoon. He doesn’t look annoyed or perturbed or even angry. He likes you whether you like it or not. 

“I don’t date.” 

“Okay,” he agrees, wiping at the spill dripping from your chin.

“You aren’t gonna argue?” 

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and your need for confrontation with it. “You don’t wanna date? That’s fine. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if that’s spoon feeding you on your deathbed.” 

You take the next bite before commenting, “You’re so weird.” 

“I like you too. Now open up for the airplane.” He makes the noise and the medicine twists your brain into actually finding it funny. “How are you pretty even when you’re blowing your nose on my shirt?”

“Deal with the devil.”

He passes you a cold cup when you brush away the remainder of the soup. One sip is all it takes.

“How did you know I like the orange Gatorade?”

“I asked Jun to give me June’s number and she gave me Hazel’s number and I asked while I was at the store.”

“You went through all that trouble just to buy me the right Gatorade?” you snort.

“It really wasn’t any trouble.”

It isn’t but it’s more than anyone else has ever done for you. The fresh wave of nausea has nothing to do with your cold.

“I’m tired,” you tell him. 

The mess is cleaned up in silence. You pretend to fall asleep and Soonyoung lets you until he’s shoving more medicine your way. 

You shake your head, failing to refuse because Soonyoung is doing that dumb airplane nose again and when you cough up a laugh he shoves the spoon in your mouth and you’re left with no choice but to swallow.

Then he’s up and you watch through heavy eyes as he gathers his things. You’ll blame it on the drugs loosening the clutch you have on your emotions later.

“Where are you going?” you ask with faux apathy, negated by the fist tangled in the hem of his sweatshirt in case he evaporates away.

“Home. Unless…you want me to stay?” A tug at the sweater is your answer to that horrible thought. “Oh, thank god – I was getting sad.”

You roll over, offering him your back to curl around. The muscles tensed around your spine soften when he does. 

I sleep better when you’re here.

You won’t tell him that but Soonyoung stiffens for a moment and the fear you’ve said the wrong thing creeps in where fatigue hasn’t rooted just yet. But a kiss to your covered shoulder and a hand under your sweater, flat against your stomach so you stay as close as possible calms the thoughts enough you can drift off.

It’s strange. Having the heat of his body at your back without the limpness of a good fuck still coursing through your veins to thaw the parts that hate pillow talk and the stickiness that come with it.

What's even stranger is that you don’t really mind it all. If anything, it’s actually pretty nice.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ GOT LOVE-STRUCK — how the cod men react to you having a heavy period

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley, johnny 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john 'bravo six' price

warnings. fem!reader, sfw, periods, blood, cramping, minor miscommunication

simon 'ghost' riley

⤷ this man is defs educated. either because of previous partners or because of his mother discreetly teaching him how the cycle worked.

⤷ when he finds you curled into the fetal position in bed, glassy eyed and breathing heavily, he first thinks that you've hurt yourself and refused to go to sick bay

⤷ however, when you start getting defensive, it kinda hits him that it's your period, not a bullet. he slightly calms at that, but seeing you hurt makes him want to solve it with violence against who caused you pain, not comfort

⤷ would absolutely hold you against his chest, his hand rubbing at your lower stomach

⤷ he'd be kinda quiet cause he's upset that he can't just solve the problem like he could if it was something like a mission instead. lowkey mopey whenever you whimper or shiver a bit because of the pain

⤷ doesn't even FLINCH when you ask him to get you more products, some food, or a heatpack. just does as asked with a sharp nod and hasty movements

⤷ him not knowing how to delicately comfort you, so just hoping that his body heat and rubbing at your tender spots is enough for you :(

johnny 'soap' mactavish

⤷ freaks the FUCK out when he sees a bit of blood on your sheets. like, full on, you're on the verge of your death bed, he has to jot down your last words level.

⤷ you're in the kitchen, heating up your heatpack when he comes barreling down the stairs, wrapping you into his arms and checking all over your body

⤷ "oh my jesus, fuck, it's gonna be okay, jus' tell me--"

⤷ you have to awkwardly explain that you had woken up with an earlier period than normal, and that it was way worse than usual, meaning you needed a heatpack before changing the sheets

⤷ man proceeds to fuss even more, refusing to let you move from the couch as he changes the sheets, grabs all of your favourite pillows and blankets, and proceeds to make you your favourite breakfast so you can relax and watch your fav movie/show

⤷ acts like you're terminally ill or smth, because he is at your side, ready to do absolutely anything to ease your pains or worries

⤷ orders in your favourite fast food for dinner, spoons you, gives you sosososo many kisses and cuddles

⤷ he just wants the best for his baby, and he will provide like the man he needs to be to deserve you !!

kyle 'gaz' garrick

⤷ knows immediately. you're not sure how, but he just does, as soon as he walks through the door and sees you cuddled into the couch, face scrunched in pain.

⤷ asks if you need anything from the shops, before making you a drink and getting you the icecream he bought for you just a few days ago, knowing you were due soon

⤷ comes over to rest your head in his lap, giving you a head massage and playing with your hair, listening to whatever you say, or when you're silent, murmuring about his own day or musings to keep you relaxed

⤷ presses soft kisses to your forehead and your stomach, giving you practiced massages that he had watched many youtube tutorials to master

⤷ "shh, sweetheart, i got you."

⤷ knows your preference for tampons/pads/other without having to double-check, in the case that you run out

⤷ when you fall asleep in his lap, he picks you up and softly puts you to bed. whether he's tired or not, he just cuddles you to his chest, loving that HE gets to comfort you, that HE gets to make sure you're safe

⤷ super super sappy throughout it all :(

john 'bravo six' price

⤷ realises that you're in a lot of pain when he wakes up to you whining and curled into a ball

⤷ softly pulls your hair from your face, confused and worried that something had happened while he was asleep, even though he was so careful to keep you safe

⤷ then he remembers that last night you had been wearing your period-proof undergarments and that you probably got it this morning

⤷ when you wake up it's to a heatpack on your stomach and a hand playing with your hair soothingly

⤷ is a bit unsure about it all because he wasn't really educated on the cycle, but still tries his damn best to make you comfortable and happy

⤷ figures that he doesn't give a shit about your natural blood when he's had much worse, much filthier blood on his bare hands

⤷ treats you like you're delicate, and kinda orders you to take it easy

⤷ lets you take charge and request him for the things you need, because he's just unsure and new to it all, having a woman who's so aware of her needs and open to share them with him !

a/n. idk what this is, idk if it's any good, i've been in the city since 6am and it's now 7pm so i'm an exhausted mess. pls excuse this clusterfuck

[rafeandonlyrafe]

gamers

words: 800

warnings: vague descriptions of video game violence and gore, established relationship

“is it scary? i don't wanna play if it's scary.” you pout as rafe places the controller into your hand.

“ill protect you, promise.” rafe says, reaching over to flick the lamp on the side table on, that way more than just the light from the tv is illuminating the room.

“fine, but you can't get mad at me if i get your character killed.” you watch as rafe navigates the game easily, opening it up to the character customization screen, just doing default settings for himself.

“oh my god, im gonna make my girl look so cute!” you gush, taking your time to carefully choose her hair and outfit, even though none of the options are stylish, you create the best look you can out of the post apocalyptic clothing choices.

rafe doesn't care that he has to sit and wait for you to perfect your character, not when he finally got you to agree to play with him.

“okay, done.” you nod as you choose a pair of pink sneakers, practical but still cute. “so what's this game all about? just running from zombies?”

“basically.” rafe says with a light chuckle. “we gotta get to the safe house for this round. just follow me, gonna pick up some weapons.”

you pick up the hang of the controls easily, concentrating on the tv as rafe drops a knife and gun for character to use to protect yourself just in case.

“this isn't so bad.” you hum, pausing to admire the scenery in the background of the game, mountain peaks poking up into the sky. “where are all the zombies?”

“they give you a few minutes to get weapons before the storms start.” rafe says, eyes scanning the screen as you head into a building, rafe knows there's med packs in there that he will need when he sustains damage keeping your character safe.

“storms? that sounds scary rafe.” you scooch so you’re closer to your boyfriend. “and it's getting dark.”

it's already dark outside your actual window, but you can tell that it's getting darker in the game as well, the sun setting as you follow rafe down the desolate street, crashed cars and trash strewn about just like if it was a real apocalypse.

“here they come!” rafe warns, clicking the buttons quickly as his character shoots at the zombies moving slowly towards you. your eyes widen upon seeing the gore, cringing and turning to hide your face in rafes shoulder once your character is hidden behind a stopped car.

“i don't like this rafey!” you whine once the gunfire stops, peeking up to see a literal pile of dead zombies. “it's scary.”

“i know, but i kept you safe, didn't i? we are almost done with the first level, just gotta get to the safe house then we can take a break, okay?” rafe offers, keeping his eyes on the screen but turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek.

“fine.” you groan. you like playing games with rafe, but your preference is him watching you dress your sims or decorate their houses after using a cheat to get them more money, only wanting your sims to have the best furniture.

you navigate your character to follow him down the sidewalk, occasionally stopping to kill the zombies. you even manage to shoot a couple.

“wait, baby, be careful.” rafe warns. “dont go that way.”

but his warning comes too late as a zombie jumps out of a dumpster that you’re standing directly next to, making you scream as it takes up your entire screen, not just attacking your character but also jumpscaring you.

“i got you, hold on.” rafe is pressing the sprint button as hard as he can, as if that can somehow make his character get to you faster. rafe manages to kill the zombie before it has the chance to bite you.

your chest is heaving up and down like you were the one to get attacked. “come on, the safe house is just around the corner.” rafe wraps an arm around your shoulder, using one hand on the controller until you’re both behind the barbed wire fence, the game switching to a cutscene. 

“i hate this.” you look to rafe with a pout on your face. “can we play stardew valley instead? please?”

rafe sighs. he should have known better than having you play with him. you are extremely adverse to any sort of shooting game. “yeah, sure.” rafe saves his progress, just in case he can convince you to play with him again before switching to stardew valley and handing you the main controller.

“yesss, thank you.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes cheek as your character wakes up. “you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“you just say that because you need me to go into the mines for you.” rafe says with a laugh.

“well, its scary!”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh

[snowywolf1005]

@stuff6969fuckyou : YANDERE STRAW HATS X READER WHO CAN BATTEL SOME TIMES BUT HAS HEALTH CONDITIONS AND CANT STAND VERY LONG AND CAN ONLY BATTLE LOW LEVEL THUGS. But that doesn’t stop the love they have for them! Also Chopper as platonic little brother like yan, who only allows and actually wants y/n to hold him and scratch behind his ear 🤭🤭🤭. Also helps with their illnesses a little too much like the crew. And Luffy and others have to keep convincing them they are worth having on the crew!

You got it!!!!

"(Y/N)! Hold me! Hold me!" Chooper cried, begging you to pick him up. "Okay, for a reward for helping me with my injuries!" You said, picking up chopper and spin around. Chopper cheer happily.

While the other strawhat crew watch, luffy being all jealous, he wants you to hug him. But luffy thinks you'll be great joining his crew, even though you don't know how to fight.

"Dinner ready!" Sanji yelled. You held Chooper and then rushed to the kitchen, "(Y/N)-swan! Here are some meat steaks!" Said sanji, putting the plate in front of you. You smiled and gave him some headpet.

Sanji eyes turn to heart, flustered by your voice, and zoro is pretty much jealous. "(Y/N)! Feed me!" Said Chooper, you smiled, luffy want you to feed him too.

"(Y/N)! Feed me too!" He yelled, you noticed and fed luffy. Zoro saw this and wanted to join in too, he pick a food. "Oi! You should try this! It tastes delicious!" He said, you lean over the table to take a bite, and you did.

Zoro was blushing because he saw your chest, "(Y/N)!" You look over to Nami handing some cake. "Say 'ahh'!" She said, you open your mouth and take a bite, "Ahh! It tastes delicious!" You said with red cheeks on your face.

Making everyone blush, you take out of steak and want to give it to sanji. "Sanji, say ahh!" You said sanji was flustered, "of course! (Y/N)-swan!" He said and took a bite.

You smile happily. Then a boom erup to hit the ship, luffy look outside to see the marine. And they keep shooting, "Usopp! Keep (Y/N) safe!" Luffy order, you follow usopp.

And you made it to the room. "Stay right here till everything is fine! You got that!?" Usopp question, you nodded. Usopp shut the door lock, you turnaround, walk towards to your bed and sat down.

You so tried. It has never been like this. You remember it was yesterday. You were just a coffee owner. You're restaurant owner, but later that day, you were kidnapped by strawhat.

You try to escape them, but it no use. You try to pretend you were happy so that they know you're happy. They even destroy the village, your hometown. You lost everything.

Hey guys sorry interrup but do you remember the first yandere strawhat crew x reader?

That is where you escape from them. The strawhat thought they trusted you, but nope.

Fast forward, you went to the island of wano, you change your looks. And you have your hairpin. You got it from your grandmother when she passed away.

Hairpin:

You thought everything went well,

until...

you saw strawhat.

MORE YANDERE ONE PIECE CHARACTER X READER, JUST ASK ME!!!

[harksness]

No Going Back

Summary: An incurable illness plagues you, something one of a kind that has never been seen before. It corrupts magic, leaving you unable to use your powers without risking death or worse. Someone wants all of your unused power themselves, and a reluctant Agatha Harkness is convinced to keep you safe after some bribing.

A/N: aaa I've had the idea for this for like 2yrs now!!! I'm super excited to be finishing it and posting it finally!! It's my first in depth, planned fanfic and I'm super excited to share it I hope you guys like it <3

(Also lowk paranoid that some of the creative decisions I made for this fic are gonna end up being explained in the show so just nevermind that if it happens we're just here for some fun romance and smut with Agatha ok)

WC: 3k

Anxiety gnaws away at your insides as you flick on your blinker, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel as you turn down that familiar dirt road that you hate so much. That long, winding dirt road that also leads to the house that you hate so much.

You try the breathing exercises your therapist taught you. The slow, calculated inhales, the holding your breath, and slow calculated exhales, but it does nothing to relieve the feeling in your chest that’s suffocating you. 

The cars headlights cut through the darkness, thick layers of tall, old trees swarming each side of the road as their branches bow overhead. You can’t even see the night sky through the thick layers of leaves.

You’re positive that if you had consulted your therapist about this little visit before coming, she would have told you that it’s not a good idea. That reopening old wounds after basically being no contact for four years would undo a lot of healing and hard work. 

But, when you listened to your fathers urgent voicemail, you knew you needed to come. You had no choice. The deal you made with him before leaving was more than fair. He agreed to leave you alone and only contact you if it was a necessary emergency. And you agreed to that more than fair deal.

He wanted you to be as far away from him as possible, and you wanted the same thing. To be far, far away from him and any reminders of what happened to you, your childhood and the toxic magical community you grew up in.

You’re sure that you were only able to get away because of your little defect. And because after your mother died, he immediately remarried and your father didn’t waste time popping out plenty of new babies, pureblooded heirs that could flawlessly wield their old blood magic unlike you.

If your father called you back home you know it’s a serious, urgent matter. And that only makes your chest grow tighter as you turn the last bend and your childhood home comes into view.

“Well.. Here we go..”

You grumble to yourself, the tall, menacing house looming over you amongst all of the trees. The night sky actually cuts through these parts, the moonglow illuminating the house and its surroundings as you pull up to the front door. Immediately you kill the engine and shift your car into park, leaning forward to peer up at the house.

The pristine white under the moonlight makes it look like it’s glowing. It stands tall and proud and perfect, no chipping or dirt in sight. A black roof sits on top, perfectly black framed windows spread along the sides of the house, and not a single one is lit up with evidence of life. Curiously, you keep peering, checking for a sign of anyone being in the house. With a deep breath you grab your keys and your bag and exit the car.

It’s dead silent, save for the sound of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the trees when a soft breeze blows through. You pause as you take a deep breath to steady yourself. Cautiously, you walk around to the other side of the house, leaning over and peering just enough to see if any lights were turned on. 

Nope. Nothing. All of the windows are black as pitch. You groan, pinching your eyes shut as you try to soothe yourself by rubbing your fingers on your forehead.

Whatever. You’ll just go inside and call your father. You’d be dead meat if you left without his permission, anyways. He sounded very urgent. Deathly urgent. With a deep exhale pushing past your lips, you walk back around the house, the wind chilling your cheeks as you start to make your way up the front steps. 

No door handle, just a block of smooth painted wood that looks like a door. A wave of exhaustion overtakes you as you press your palm to the smooth center of the wood, your features dropping as an electric blue glow flows in ripples over the door before it parts for you, splitting down the middle and swinging open.

The main hall is eerily dark and you have to force yourself to move forward. The moonlight is bright enough to where you can see, but everything is shadowed. The hall stretches out far, down the length of the entire house before leading to the wide, open stairs that would take you up to the expansive second level. 

A hard, loud slam echoes through the halls and shakes the house. It’s enough for you to let out a scream and jump as you fling yourself around to the source of the noise, noticing the front doors are sealed closed. Your face scrunches in confusion at the sight. It should just.. Close like a normal door as soon as you are comfortably in the threshold of the house. Never have you seen it linger or slam like that before, not even in your years growing up here.

You sigh, deciding to brush it off even though you know something is wrong, more so because you know that you’re incapable of protecting yourself like a normal witch would be able to so gaslighting yourself is just the easier option for now.

Besides, whatever’s wrong can’t be life endangering to you. The property is warded and safe, it’s basically impossible to get through to the house let alone inside of it. Hundreds of years of magical wards and barriers make sure of that. So, you grab your phone out of your coat pocket, your fingers cold as you pull up your fathers contact and press the call button.

You raise the phone to your ear as the sound of the monotonous chimes ring through the silent rooms as you pass through them, cautiously walking into the family room. The sound of your boots is muffled by the thick carpet as you walk over it to peer out of the window. The wind rushes against the side of the house, the echo of the noise whispering through the silent halls of your childhood home.

“Okay, I’m at the house. What’s going on and where are you? Please… Just call me back.”

Lowering the phone with a tense sigh, you drop it back into your coat pocket before turning back to the window. You decide to analyze the treeline for any sign of something being off, and you see something that makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.

One of the protective runes carved into one of the trees has been singed off. You can tell by the sizzling burn marks that it was magic, the bark of the tree burned all the way through and to the wood underneath, leaving no sign of the runes that were previously there. Your throat dries up.

Whoever did that had to have broken through two other protective barriers on the property. It’s tough magic and in order to break through it… You’d need some scarily powerful magic on your side.

There’s only been a few times over the decades since the house was built that someone has been able to break through the protective barriers. The last time was when your mother was assassinated and you were left for dead when you were a child.

You can’t stop the panic from bubbling in your chest this time, not knowing what to do or how to protect yourself. Your mind is frantic as you search for a solution, your hand moving to fist the pendant hanging from your neck, but something catches your eye and you freeze. In the reflection of the window you see her, a woman reclining in your fathers favorite chair. The back of the extravagant, plush red chair reaches high, the woman is slumped down in it, her black heeled boots dangling over one armrest of the chair as she gently swings her feet back and forth, the fabric of her purple skirt swaying with each movement.

Her body is twisted just a bit so that her front is tilted towards you, her chin resting in her palm. She’s donning a very traditionally witchy getup. Her wild, brown curls fall off of her head in crazy waves as it cascades over her shoulders. Her lips are quirked in the snarkiest smirk you’ve ever seen, your chest tightening even further when you notice her bright blue eyes are planted right on you. 

You whip around to face her, your eyes widening when you see her with your own two eyes and not in the window's reflection, confirming this is real and not a figment of your imagination.

“Oh my goodness! It took you long enough to notice me! If this were a horror movie, or if I actually wanted to kill you, you would’ve been dead the second those doors slammed shut, sweetheart.”

The woman's smooth voice has a taunting edge to it. She swings her feet over and around and they land against the carpet with a dramatic thump! before she pushes herself out of the chair and onto her feet.

“Thank god I don’t want to kill you.”

Her smirk drops into a warning smile, her voice doing the same. You’re gripping your pendant so tightly that you can feel it cutting into the skin of your palm.

“What do you mean? What do you want?”

You ask, your voice shaky and soft. She drops her gaze to your fist, pointing at it.

“That’s what I want.”

Her eyes meet yours again as she takes a few steps towards you. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and give it to me? Or do I have to take it from you?”

She holds out her hand, and that’s when your gaze catches on the pendant on her neck. Your eyes widen in horror, taking a slow step backwards.

Every witch knows about Agatha Harkness. About her long list of crimes, both magical and not. Especially those of you connected to the elder families. She’s successfully stolen from some, even killed a few. She was a suspect in your mothers murder and your assault, but was ruled out for having been out of the country at the time.

“Why do you want it?”

You stutter through the sentence, trying to distract her for a moment as you mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to do. You just keep hoping, praying to whatever god is listening, that you can get your magic to work right just this once.

“Stop stalling, honey.. You know exactly why I want it.”

You take her words as your signal to call on your magic, and it appears in a sickly blue-ish yellow glow, enveloping you as you feel it wash over you, turning you invisible. You start cursing internally, knowing your magic won’t last long enough to keep you safe. But you have to try something. 

You don’t know what to do. Just run to your car, which probably won’t work, hide, which also probably won’t work, or somehow try to distract her which is your best bet but also probably won’t work.

So, you start booking it down the hall, the hard thumps of your feet on wood rattling through the old house as you dart for the stairs. Your fingers wrap around the bannister and you start running up the steps, taking them two steps at a time as you desperately search your mind for a good place to hide. 

“It’s funny you think you can hide, sweetheart.”

Agatha calls after you, and you can already hear her making her way up the stairs. She’s taking her time as she follows after you. You bolt down the hall, finding your old bedroom. When you throw open the door you’re not surprised to see that they renovated it, it seems to be an art studio for your step mother now.

You step back into the hallway, remaining invisible as you quietly move out of the way. Agatha is making her way down the hall, her robes and long hair flowing dramatically behind her as she approaches the door you flung open.

“Oh, come on.. Just make this easier for the both of us and come on out.”

She laughs as she sticks her head into the room, surveying it. She must be suspicious that you’re not actually in there. You take the opportunity to do something you’ve never tried before, something stupid that could kill you- and you call on your magic.

You raise your hand, closing your eyes as you carefully begin to draw your power from the pendant around your neck. It’s unstable in its pure form like this, your anxiety bubbling in your chest as you draw it into your hand, feeling it crackle and pop like a fire. You feel the invisibility spell wash off of you like water, your fingers flicking backwards in time with the powerful bursts of magic.

You build the magic steadily, higher and higher as you wait for her to turn around.

When she finally does, you twist your arms, using all of your strength to fling the yellow-blue ball of magic right into the woman. She flies backwards, and you hear the crashing noises as she falls right into all of the easels and canvases.

Peering through the door, you see her in a clump on the floor with the broken and tattered art supplies. She blows a long piece of thick brown hair that hand landed in her face out of the way with a dramatic puff of her lips.

“I thought you couldn’t use magic..”

Agatha grumbles as she climbs to her feet, dusting herself off. She pauses, an uneasy look overtaking her face.

“What.. What was that?”

She groans, wrapping her arms around her stomach where your magic had landed. You let out a breathy, surprised laugh. 

“What did you do to me!? I thought you couldn't use magic!”

Agatha yells at you, rage seeping through her voice as it booms in the halls of the house. Fear grips you again as you straighten up, not bothering to give her an explanation.

She groans out in pain behind you, and you start running. Your feet heavy thumps as you book it down the hall, thinking you finally got a chance.

Not only does she need to realize what's happening to her, she needs to purge it from her body. Someone that powerful shouldn't have an issue dealing with it, but fighting it out should stall just long enough for you to get away.

Or so you thought.

Something hits you so hard that you fall to the ground, landing roughly on your right arm. The force of your body hitting the hard wood beneath you causes your head to snap against the floor too, a loud yelp of pain pushing out of your throat as pain shoots in hot flashes across your skull and down your arm.

A few seconds later you’re blinking dumbly as you try to regain your senses, your head ringing and vision blurry from your hard fall. Your eyes roll in your head, a groggy groan escaping your lips as you desperately try to pick yourself off the ground.

Your right arm is stuck. Shoulder to hand, as if it’s superglued to the wood beneath you. Desperately you pull on your arm, trying to sit up to no avail as you hear the woman approaching you from behind.

You’re basically a bug that walked into a sticky trap, helpless as you watch your impending demise approach you. You turn your head to the sound of boots on the wooden floor, seeing Agatha sauntering towards you, purple skirt swaying around the ankles of her black boots. You’re just barely able to make out a coherent thought through all of the pain and fog clouding your mind- you’re fucked.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, your head throbbing in time with every beat as the woman crouches down before you. You’re unable to focus on her features, desperately wincing and pinching your eyes shut to try and get rid of the pain. Her fingers wrap around your jaw, biting softly into your cheeks as she focuses your lolling head on her gaze.

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean for you to hit the ground that hard. Don’t wanna risk damaging that pretty face, hm?”

You blink rapidly as she starts to come into focus. You try to gargle out a response, but find yourself unable to as pain shoots through your skull. She coos at you with wide eyes, raising her free hand to run softly over the top of your head.

“At the very least, there’s gonna be a bump. At the very most, a concussion.. I really am sorry, but I needed this-”

Her hand is reaching towards your neck. Panic spikes in your chest when you realize she’s going to grab your necklace.

“N-no!”

You force the word past your lips in a desperate stutter, your voice echoing through the long hall so loudly that it surprises you. The witch before you even seems a bit taken off guard, curling her fingers back as she retreats her hand only slightly.

“What’s wrong with your magic..”

She asks, her voice soft and firm as her eyes narrow at you in curiosity. Panic is bubbling in your chest, rising in your throat.

“I don’t know.”

You whisper in return, before that all too familiar flash of blue-yellow magic lights up between the two of you. Agatha raises her hands, manifesting a wide, purple shield the exact moment your unstable magic collides with it. A loud noise sounds right when it collides with hers, shaking the house and echoing loudly in your ears. Your head flies in the opposite direction at the force, smacking against the floor once again as your vision goes black.

[jakesangel]

jake finding you crying - requested

it's usually at night, day finally over, that we can all finally settle down, n realize that we aren't that okay. and the same goes to you. life is though : too much drama in your school/work place, to much work to do, problèmes in your family and/ or your friends. things are too munch to bear and the only thing steady left in your life, your most needed person at the moment, your lovely jake. so you call him, not knowing what to do but you know his presence will soothe you down. that call would wake him up, him being an early bird, and would be a bit confused as to why you suddenly call him but hearing your sobs would wake him up right away. what's wrong, angel ? did something happened ?, he'd voice to you w nothing but worries. as you ask him to come over, he would already be getting ready, leaving the dorm in roar.

as he arrived, he would knock lots showing the panic filling his body, and as you open the door, he will immediately engulf you in his arms. my baby, i'm all here now, he would murmur, one hand softly stroking your hair, shhh, it's okay baby it's okay, he would add if you start to sob in his embrace. he wouldn't stop hugging you until you're the one leaving his embrace, even if you guys are in the hallway. do you wanna talk about it, angel or do you want comfort tonight ? he would ask you, taking your face in his hands, his eyes reading yours trying to convey you support and steadiness's in your shaky breath. as yous amswers, jake would kiss your forehead and/or your lips, okay whatever you want baby. i'm staying tonight yeah ?

if you want to talk about it, he would make you sit on your nearest surface, it could be the sofa or the bed or even the kitchen counter, and would then make you talk. he'd face you, eyes on your teary face, holding your hand, a small display of the immense support he has for you. just breath my angel, or you're safe here, are words spelled from him as you struggle to let your words out. and the second he sees your eyes waters, words too hard for your own mental health, he would drop your hand immediately to take you in his arms again,baby if it's too munch, you don't have to tell me right now, he'd shush you as his hand would smooth your back, you can cry all you want in my arms, i'll be here for you all night long. as you guys stay close to each other, he would keep comforting you, i know things can be too much right now baby, but everything will work out at the end i promise you. ill be here with you through out this journey as close or as far as you want me to be. but i want you to know, that no matter what you will not lose me. i'll forever be here for you, my y/n, he would say as he put your hair back in place, eyes searching for yours. remember that i love you my angel and that you are okay. keep thinking about those two fact, especially when you feel like it's too munch, okay baby ? he'd finally finish his face now right in front of yours, kissing your lips.

if you don't feel like talking, everything being too munch for your, he would hold you, your legs around his waist, walking the both of you to your bedroom. he would then place you on top of him, under the covers, your face prettily crying in the crock of your neck. he'd have one arm around your waist the other in your hair. from time to time he will, wipe your tears away, or kiss your hand on his chest. he would stay awake until you fall asleep of exhaustion. he wouldn't stop his shh during the whole cuddle session and would even hum or sing you a song. when he sees you asleep, he will then place you on the bed, so that the both of you have a more comfortable position to fall asleep to, him spooning you. good night my angel, he would say sadly before going himself to the arms of morpheus, kissing the top of your head.

notes : hai anon, here's your request >< tell me what you think in the inbox <3

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey

[echantedtoon]

Caught Once Again

For those who were wondering what would happen IF Y/n got caught again. Sequel to my Yandere Demons And Brides posts and my Escaping Yandere Demons post. Some will be shorter than others.

Warnings for yandere themes, scars and illness mentioned, Douma/Enmu/Karaku ARE their own warnings, possibly some innuendos, kidnapping and entrapment mentions, death mentioned, etc.

Daki n Zohakutan are included with Hantengu's and Gyutaro's part but they're PLATONIC Yanderes.

KOKUSHIBO:

-The demon who had taken you hostage for weeks claiming you to be his wife's reincarnation had never left your mind after you escaped. It wasn't easy either. Kokushibo had heightened senses that were beyond human.

-You took the chance to escape one day after he left just before sunrise, making you hug him and greet him goodbye like a good wife should, before he left locking up the door behind him as he went. You took the chance to poke around trying to find any source of outage. A secret basement, the chimney, ANYTHING! Eventually you managed to find a weakened point on a boarded window. Clawing wildly you managed to tear away the wood, and smashing out the glass to freedom.

-You didn't look back. The small cuts you got were nothing as you ran and ran from that cursed house as far as you could until you collapsed from exhaustion. You made it. You were out but you weren't safe yet. You still moved away far away as you could before the sun sets. Kokushibo didn't come back every night so hopefully you'd have a few days to run. You couldn't go back home, that'd be the first place he looks for you so you decided to run along the river. Eventually coming along to and settling into a small fishing town.

-You decided to just lay low here. Getting a job as one of the net weavers and keeping to yourself in fear of being found out. Weeks passes. Months passed. And you were slowly letting your guard down, believing that perhaps you had hidden well enough to never be seen again. But you still didn't go out at night.

-One night though you allowed yourself to stay out, after all the small town was hosting a festival and you deserved to have fun after so long. You were playing a small game. Tossing a ball into a pit to win a prize when you saw it. Six eyes piercing through the darkness and staring at you. You didn't even have time to turn and flee when you smacked into the purple and black clothed chest and two strong hands pulled you against him in a possessive hold as you gaze up into half lidded eyes.

"You made a valiant effort to get away however I believe that it's time you come back home, Wife."

HANTENGU(+CLONES):

-You thanked the gods for how easily trickable the demon was, making it so easy for you to run far away. Right past town and towards the nearest safe point you knew which happened to be a grove of wild Wysteria trees. There's no way any of them would suspect that you'd be there and even if they did, what were they going to do? Demons couldn't survive Wysteria poisoning and avoided it like the plague.

-It wasn't bad really. It was a beautiful place. There was always beautiful trees surrounding you, a nice floral scent in the air, and you even found an old abandoned shack that you spruced up to make it livable. Overall it's not a bad life, but you wish it was more open like before. Your ease falters when fall comes and the leaves on the trees wither away and the flowers die. However they're still Wysteria trees so you don't think they'd dare come around your little grove and with each passing day that you never see then again, your mind believes that.

-Until winter comes to cover everything in snow. You're out one night with only the moonlight to see trying to shovel out snow from your front door, shivering in the cold and hair whipping in the wind. Perhaps that's why you couldn't hear the approaching wingbeats until it was too late. Two giant eagle like hands wrapped around your shoulders and in an instant you were sailing through the air. Shrieking as the ground disappeared beneath you and shrieking more as you looked up into the yellow eyes of an overjoyed harpy demon pulling him tightly against his chest with a loud happy chirping sound. "OH GOOD FUCK!! I'D THOUGHT WE'D NEVER FIND YOU, FEATHER! This game wasn't fun when you didn't come home you know!"

-No matter how hard you struggle, Urogi was too strong for you to break free from as he flies you all back to the others. All seven have varying reactions when Urogi just lands down with you struggling to get away and clawing at his arms. He was supposed to grab them someone for dinner but instead he brings back their missing wife. The first ones to react are Aizetsu and Sekido. The sorrow clone balling into your shoulder with a crushing hug making your shoulder wet. "I'M SO HAPPY YOU'RE OK!! WE'RE NEVER GONNA LET YOU GET LOST AGAIN!!" Meanwhile Sekido is scowling relieved but still raged. "WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU MADE US FEEL?!"

-Urami and Karaku have similar reactions to Sekido and Aizetsu. Urami joins Sekido in scolding you. "DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED WE WERE!? WHY DIDN'T YOU COME HOME ALREADY?! DID SOMEONE PUT YOU UP TO THIS?! YOU'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE!" Meanwhile Karaku is surprisingly calm actually apologizing if it's his actions made you so mad that you left but he was planning on making it all up to you now. "Don't worry, Baby. We got all the time in the world to make up for lost time."

-In the meantime Hantengu is sniveling alongside Aizetsu as both are crying into your terrified form making your dress soaked. "It's not my fault! It's not my fault!" Is all he can say in defense. Zohakutan is the most annoyed at all. It'll take hours for him to be able to have a moment to talk to you because of how much everyone else is crowding you for their turn but once he does be prepared for the longest lecture of your life. "Sit down! We are going to have a V E R Y long talk!"

DOUMA:

-If Douma's irratic emotional state wasn't enough to scare you away then his cannibalistic demon nature was. From his sudden mood swings to the unstable bout of love declarations he'd give you out of no where, dropping to his knees to shout out it all or just kissing you unprompted. It was all too much but with so many people surrounding you and a powerful demon how did you get away?

-Simple. You hid inside one of the supply crates. Once and a while some of the cult members would leave to try and recruit more members, on these trips they'd take a crate or two of supplies like pamphlets and food. Well Douma had been busy attending to whatever Muzan wanted and there wasn't anyone guarding the crates, so you emptied one out and snuck yourself inside. No one suspected you were inside when they moved the crates outside and down the mountainside for the long trip to one of the nearby towns. And no one saw it coming when you busted out of the crate once you were placed down and RAN. Disappearing into the crowd of people and using the cover of people to get far away from the demon and crazy cult!

-Thankfully the town they happened to stop by had a train station. It was easy to trade one of the many stupid, overpriced pieces of Jewelry Douma always made you wear for a ticket and easier for you to hop on the train and get outta dodge. Relief flooding your systems as the mountain side got farther and farther away from you. And compared to your other Y/n counterparts, it was easier for you to start over. Cutting your hair and dying it, going by a sub version of your name, and selling off what was left of the jewelry on you to gain enough money to buy you a nice warm apartment somewhere random in Asakusa city. Hiding in plain sight sounded like the best idea. And eventually getting a job as a seamtress in a random shop.

-A whole year passed on since the day you escaped and it was almost like it never happened. Never once did you hear about the stupid cult or have people worshipping you weirdly or worst of all having the threat of a demon over your shoulders. All you did was keep your head down and minded your own business. It was good. Life was good. It wasn't until your boss mentioned getting a brand new extremely handsome and rich customer coming in that day did things change. You knew what to do so you already prepared yourself to take measurements and the silk fabric he requested for. Not even paying attention to who it was as you prepared your scissors and measuring tape as your boss guided him into the room with just the two of you with a- "Just let me know if you need anything else!"

-You still don't look up at the frozen figure staring down at you as you just instruct him to stand on the stool and hold his arms up so you can measure his waistline instead you're met with a thud as whoever it was drops to his knees and two strong arms ensnare you in a tight hug. You shout whirling around at the inappropriate behavior but freeze as two rainbow eyes filled with anger, sadness, mad love, and tears spear you straight into the soul.

"Lotus Blossom, I thought I lost you forever there! Good thing we're fated to never be separated. A R E N T W E?"

NAKIME:

-(Apologies if her part is short.) Whelp. You made it out. Running and running and running through the woods to get away from the terrible castle and the woman who self proclaimed to be your 'wife'. You almost made it out of there...Almost. Just before your feet hit the dirt road, a door opens up under you and you fall in. Landing face first with a thud in front of the frowning woman.

"Are you quite done with your childish games?"

ENMU:

-You didn't go back anywhere near trains or stations now that you were free. Screw that mess! You were done with stupid trains and their dumb cars and crazy perverted demons who think that's it's flirting when he let's you punch and kick him out of frustration.

-Nope! You stayed FAR AWAY from tracks in general and just kept yourself at home from now on. So how did he find you again? Turns out HE COULD leave the train body. Not very far away just just far enough to get to your house and wake you up during one of the few times you could actually sleep and then squeal in delight again as you curse him out in his grip and kick him to no avail.

"Oh dear.~ You have no idea how lonely it was to not have you in my arms again.~"

AKAZA:

-With your bad leg limping as you ran for your freedom hearing Akaza's concerned voice shriek out before PLEADING with you to come back. "YOU COULD GET KILLED OUT THERE?! PLEASE COME BACK!! YOU'RE NOT WELL ENOUGH TO BE ON YOUR OWN!!" You don't care. You didn't ask him to 'help you'! You never even wanted him to be near you in the first place.

-Instead of turning back you continue to leg it down the hill you were on cursing the demons that put you in this permanent hurt state. You managed to limp half way back to your family's home before your exhaustion and pain makes you collapse against a nearby tree to rest. It was almost nighttime and yet you were still no closer to home. Panting and heaving, you break off a study stick nearby and use it as a crutch to hop along on your good leg trying to get as far as you can before Akaza can come back for you. If you can make it to the town's temple then you'd be safe at least until the next morning then you can get farther away from him and everything else that could lead him to you.

-You make it to the top of another hill overlooking the town just as it darkens and you can see the first few lights of the houses. Relief floods your being as you hobble towards the town until your stick ends up slipping and you fall over. The wind being knocked out of your body by the first hit before your body starts turning, rolling down the hill painfully as you fall. Hitting rocks and sticks and everything in between until two strong hands grabbed you by the sides. Stopping you just in time before your head could crack against a rock with jagged points. Dizzy you glance up with your spinning vision and feel your stomach drop as worried yellow orbs stare back to you.

"It's too dangerous for you to be without me! Don't you see that?!

GYUTARO(+PLATONIC UME/DAKI):

-You made it out of that gods forsaken hole in the ground. Coughing and in bad shape but alive and well however escaping was another much harder thing to do with your bad sight. Everything looked the same. Blurs, and colors smashed together. Everyone walking bad blobs of color. No one seeming to care about what happened to you as you stumbled around all dirted from climbing out of the hole and begging anyone around you for help only being met with dirty looks and shouted insults at you.

-if no one was going to help you, then you had to make your way out of the E District. You wondered aimlessly. Bumping into everything and anyone. Flinching as people just plain pushed you out of the way knocking you over or leaving you stumbling for balance. Night fell sooner than your terrified mind thought it would. The crowd's became worse, more crowded and so blurry it made your head spin. It made you cry in fear and frustration the longer you stood there in the middle of the street. Eventually turning to leave until you're pulled into an alleyway by a harsh hand. Screaming out before a hand silences you already fearing the worst until a loud familiar yell pierces your ears.

"Helpless without me aren't you?! I hoped you learnt your lesson because this isn't going to happen again. Do you hear me?"

"DO YOU HEAR HIM?! THAT WAS THE STUPIDEST THING ANYONE'S EVER DONE! YOU'RE LUCKY YOU'RE MY FRIEND AND BROTHER LIKES YOU SO MUCH!!"

HAIROU:

-You had one shot and you blew it. It was a long shot anyways. You knew you couldn't get away from him unless you fled in the middle of one of the episodes he had caused by his PTSD hoping that the hours head start you had would be enough to escape him and his hellish hounds. No such luck. You flinch hearing the sounds of gunshots behind you(Hairou shooting himself to clear his panicked mind) but you still don't stop. Just continuing to run and run and not look back.

-As you run through the darkness, you hear them. Howls and the sounds of dogs running behind you catching up to your terrified form to run on either side of you until you're forced to stop as at least five shadow hounds emerge from nowhere in front of your panting form. Growling and barking at your forms getting closer and closer. Backing you up more and more making you scream with every jolt they gave you until your back ran into a chest and an arm suddenly wrapped around yourself.

"That was a cheap trick. Too bad you won't be able to do it again."

GYOKKO:

-You made it out. It was almost impossible for you to escape but you managed to do it. Delayed only by the fact that his vase was turned upside down and it was daylight outside when you ran away. You knew you couldn't return home, that'd be the first place he looked for you. So without any idea of where to go or what to do,you decided to start traveling. Walking down along the road and picking up scraps here and there, stealing a random few dresses off someone's laundry line, and a burlap sack filled with some veggies from a farmer's barn. Now equiped with the items you needed in one bag, you began moving from place to place. Never staying in one place for too long, only traveling during the day and hiding away during the night. This worked out quite well for avoiding him... temporarily.

-You were miserable. Missing the comforts of your home. Missing being able to use your skills and making things. You want to go home, but you can't in fear of the demon still lurking about. Eventually your travels eventually leads you to the dreaded E District. With nothing else to do, you beg the first house master you see for a job any job at wits end. Eventually he does. As a servant. It's not the worst job. You don't have to entertain any guests, only clean floors, bring the ladies food, and help the girls with their clothes and make up if they need it. In exchange you're paid with a small room to sleep in and and one free meal a day. Definitely not the worst outcome. Beats being a demon's 'muse'.

-One day an oirans favorite kimono is ruined. Right before she was to see a special customer too. Well you use your former skills as a kimono maker and offer to fix said oirans dress for free. She's skeptical about it but agrees to let you fix it and is surprised that not only did you fix it but it looked like it wasn't even torn. She's so impressed with it that it starts up a conversation between you two about your skill. You mention used to having a store and making kimonos before misfortune made you lose your job(leaving out the demon art of course). Well she decides that she wants one and so orders you and the house master to get her one that matches her demands specifically.

-You happily agree missing your old job and happily make her one in a few weeks time. She's in love with the beautiful blue kimono with waves stitched on so beautifully that it looks almost real. You're so happy that you don't even realize that the oirans is actually a demon in dequise and she wears her new kimono to a demon meeting. Or that another demon instantly recognizes the work she's wearing. Gyokko compliments and flatters Daki into telling him where exactly she got the kimono and she has no problems bragging about how her new girl made it just for her and no one else. You really shouldn't have been horrified when you retire to your room later that night and is met with a beautiful vade in the middle of the room.

"Really I thought you would've known how tasteless it was to think that you could outsmart me."

KAIGAKU:

-Your first instinct after getting out was to make for the first demon slayer you could find but the problem with that was that you had no idea where you were or where the Haishiras were training. You just dove through the first door you saw leading to the outside and ran. Ran until light peeked into the skies and still you kept going until you came to the first town. Taking shelter in the nearest public room which happened to be a library.

-Naively you thought you were safe there. You were just a healer after all, you didn't know that demons could track by scent. So when you fall asleep amongst the books as night falls, and you wake up two angry hands yanking you up to him bridal style. You can't help but scream.

"Do I look like a dam idiot to you?! You're going to regret being so dumb!"

KYOGAI:

-You had one shot at it. When Kyogai's distracted by an intruder in his house, you make for the nearest room with a window you can find. Opening doors in a panic, eyes looking around wildly for any way you can leave until you see it. A window that's right in front of you and it's open! Without hesitation you run towards it and jumped out. However what you didn't know was that you were on the second floor so when you jumped out, you had a painful landing.

-You didn't break your leg but it was either severely sprained or fractured from the pain you felt. Your pained scream alerting Kyogai to the nearest window to where he looked on in horror as you struggled to get up. It burnt him badly, but he immediately ran out in the sunlight to get you and drag you back inside. He can regenerate in a few minutes, your leg would take much longer.

"That was incredibly stupid of you,Water Beetle."

[macsimagines]

Yandere!Mikey w/ a S/O that had his child

ASKBOX IS OPEN

(So for this set of headcanons its for a Mikey thats been consumed by his dark impulses and has probably lost everyone... ALSO PLEASE tell me what you think? I work better when I'm given notes so any complaints or compliments ill take!)

(D/N) - Daughters Name (Y/N) - Your Name

You were supposed to be a one night stand. He wasn't even going to give you the time of day. You were some secretary or pencil pusher and he was making deals (harassing) your boss.

But you catch his eye, and your boss has you entertain him to make things go smoother.

Thankfully, you two hit it off. Mikey can be charming despite his horrible reputation and you've got such beautiful kind eyes...

One thing leads to another and one unforgettable night you two have sex.

Mikey doesn't call you or contact you after that, and you can take the hint that it didn't mean anything more than just a way to relieve stress.

That would be all fine and dandy if it weren't for the fact that you were puking your guts out and happened to be pregnant.

You can't depend on Mikey, you don't think he'll accept your child and you really don't want them involved in the underworld that Mikey controls.

So you move out of Tokyo to distant family in a different town. You get a job, have your wonderful child and live peacefully in a small town.

Four years down the road, you end up back in Tokyo with your daughter. You owed a friend a favor and you're not too worried.

Your Daughter might be Mikey's clone but Tokyo is a big city and he's a busy man. He must have had countless women before he's not going to recognize your face out of a million others. Plus its been years. You should be safe right?

Wrong. You wake up one morning and (D/N) is gone. You're frantic searching for her, so confused where she could have gone from your friends apartment when it hits you: The Park!

Sprinting over there you're met with a sight you never thought you'd see. Mikey holding your fidgeting daughter in his arms.

If not for the terrifying look in his eyes the scene is almost comical.

The two of them together look like a before and after picture because of how similar they are.

"Y/N, you wanna explain this?" he asks you, and you're more shocked he remembered your name than anything else.

You try to pull it together, you don't want to cause a scene in front of your daughter.

"Th-that's my daughter. She ran off this morning and I've been looking for her."

He tilts his head to the side while he looks you up and down, placing your little girl on his hip.

"Don't you mean our daughter?" there's something dark in his voice and down right malevolent in his eyes.

Panic rises in your chest and you look down at the ground. "I just...I wanted her to be safe. I-I didn't think you'd care."

Your sweet Daughter whimpers for you, not understanding who this strange man is or why he's making her mommy so upset.

"You thought I wouldn't acknowledge my own child? Am I that kind of man to you?"

Silence stretches between you before you finally get the courage to say; "How did you even find us?"

Mikey just stares and holds your girl close before answering; "I heard you were in town. I came looking for you, and found her. Guess this is fate."

What you didn't know was that Mikey did want you, he wanted you so bad it almost drove him crazy. He tried to keep his distance and ignore you, and just when he can't take it anymore he finds out you moved away?

That's fine. It wasn't meant to be. But he had eyes and ears out for you if you ever came back to him. If you willingly walked back into the lions den that must mean you want him to have you.

He hears your back, with a daughter, and that's not a problem. If you have a husband he'll make sure you don't anymore and he doesn't mind a brat, you'll give him some of his own and that will make up for it.

So he goes looking for you, and he's almost to the apartments he knows you're staying at when a little girl catches his eyes. For a second he thought he hallucinated a mirror, but no staring up at him is his own face.

In his heart he knows who this girl is. And he's mystified when she starts talking to him.

"How come the sun's so bright?" she asks him for whatever insane reason.

And the empty abyss in his chest is suddenly full of love and affection. She's perfect. He had a perfect daughter now. Mikey embraces and tells her as much. That she's wonderful and beautiful and so loved.

Then you come sprinting towards them and Mikey suddenly remembers you kept her from him.

Back to the present, he thinks if this had been anyone else he would have killed them. But its you. And thankfully you raised the perfect child and gave him a healthy daughter, so he can't be too mad. He'll take it out on some underlings that left out very important details...

"I'll take responsibility," he tell you grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you so you're face to face, "And you will too, Y/N. We're gonna raise a very happy family. And you're going to give me a very big one. Lots of kids." one for every person he's ever lost.

[morose-melodies]

to live comfortably | yandere! pantalone x reader

summary: you should give up on your failing business while you're still ahead, pantalone promises to help you recover!!

content warning: I dont think there's any

money couldn't buy everything it seemed.

not love, not happiness but most importantly, not your love.

at least, not the sort of love he wanted. "(y/n)," pantalone stepped towards you, "be honest with yourself - your business is going nowhere. you'd be better off allowing me to take care of it for you."

"no."

"you still refuse?" pantalone blinked, straightening his back, his hands pocketed in his coat, "well, aren't you stubborn," he mused.

"i don't care-- hey! get outta the doorway, you're blocking people from entering."

who would dare enter this building, pantalone stepped to the side, a small grin on his face, it's on the verge of collapse.

"can't you see I care for you? I'd hate for you to lose everything trying to sustain this-" dead-end, pantalone bit his tongue, "-business. you'd be better off in my manor, giving me company. you'd live comfortably, compared to how you're living now."

"I don't need your help. I really, really don't. actually, get away from the window; people won't want to enter if they see you here."

how headstrong you were. pantalone chuckled and stepped away from the window, walking into an aisle, "honestly, I've seen higher quality flowers-- in better shape and condition. you're not cut out for this business, (y/n)."

for the first time, pantalone saw a change in your expression-- your eyes narrowed and jaw tightened, "i didn't ask for your critiques."

"oh well, forgive me then. whenever your business comes crashing down, come to me. ill help you," Peeking out of the aisle at you, he grinned. then, exited the building.

honestly, he was a bit on edge in there, afraid of the roof collapsing on him.

...

not even a week later, pantalone was back.

"if you're not here to shop, get outta here-"

"that's no way to treat a customer," pantalone tuts, his eyebrows knit together in mock sadness, "I'm here to support your," doomed to fail, "business. give me your finest flowers."

you were doubting him, pantalone could tell that much from your narrowed gaze. "I'm being genuine, now, don't keep me waiting."

so, you grabbed the prettiest flowers of yours and made a bouquet out of them. "here ya go," you held the bouquet out for him to take.

pantalone couldn't stifle the smile that grew on his face as he took the flowers - it was beautiful, that much he could admit. "thank you, (y/n)."

and he paid you generously.

"do stay safe until next time," he would say just before exiting the shop, holding the bouquet to his chest as he walked down the snow-paved streets.

...

it's been two weeks.

the flower petals are dropping - the flower had since then died.

pantalone needs a new fix right about now. a new bouquet would do him well, he reasoned but he couldn't bring himself to rid himself of the old flowers.

they were still beautiful to him. whatever you graced with your touch should be cherished, no?

pantalone had spent those two weeks sitting by the window, staring at the bouquet in a vase. he watched those flowers deteriorate and die - and even then, he still admired them.

pantalone stood, dusted off his pants, and prepared to visit you once more.

it was always so rewarding.

so, he made his way to your flower shop to find that it was closed.

permanently closed.

the flowers were gone and so were you.

pantalone never knew you as well as he intended to. he had no idea where you stayed, he hardly knew anything about you - all he was sure of was that visiting your shop gave him a positive feeling.

he got addicted to that positive feeling.

without that feeling, what would he do?

well, he thought he'd have to figure it out, but from the corner of his eyes, he saw you. holding a bag of presumed trash, you were walking out from around the building.

he wasted not a moment approaching you, on his eagerness, his shoulder bumped yours, to which he muttered an apology before asking, "I'm sure you're wishing you had taken my advice now?"

"i guess..."

"it's never too late, (y/n). I'm not one to hold grudges," except that wasn't true, "entrust all your problems to me. I'll make it worth your while."

you sighed and pantalone expected you to reject his offer but instead, you said, "fine."

you don't seem to understand how much you make his day. you do as little as spare him a glace as you speak to him and he's head over heels for you.

taking your hand into his, he said, "oh, you won't regret this."

[cozage]

Hey hey hey! It's me again XD I'm here to send you another angst request and you can write it with any OP charaters that you like! The request is how they would react to their s/o dying unexpectedly from an illness but when they kissed them goodbye on the lips, their s/o came back to life and said 'your love is my cure' or other cheesy phrases cuz Idk what to write lol ?

A/N: RAINBOWSTAR HI IVE MISSED YOU I HOPE YOU ARE WELL

Characters: reader x Law, Luffy, Zoro

Cw: reader death, angst

Total word count: 800

True Love's Kiss

Law

He can’t figure out why your heart rate is dropping so fast. He’s done everything he could to try and help you, but nothing is working. 

Your heart stops, and he’s in a full panic now. Immediately starting CPR. Praying to anything and anyone to let you live somehow.

When he presses his lips to yours, he’s desperately hoping for a miracle.

He hesitates just a moment before breathing air into your lungs, and he’s startled to see your eyes fly open.

A gasp escapes your mouth, and he looks at you, unbelieving that you’re really still alive. 

He buries his face in your chest, taking a few uneasy breaths and trying not to cry from the relief of you being okay. 

You comb your fingers through his hair and steady yourself, trying to recall what happened or why he’s reacting this way, until he finally speaks. 

“You died,” he says. His voice is thick with tears, which you try your best to ignore. If Law is crying, then it must’ve been serious. 

“You saved me,” you reply. You don’t feel like you have just died. Just like you woke up from a really long nap. 

“No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do any-“

“I’m alive now aren’t I?” You ask. “I guess your lips really can heal anything”.

He’s so thankful that you’re alive, he doesn’t even respond to your stupid joke 

Luffy

He’s shaking you, begging you to come back to him. He’s screaming and sobbing and impossible to console.

Zoro tries to pull him away so Chopper can treat you, but Luffy knows. He’s been here before. 

Chopper knows too. Everyone knows. So they just sit and watch their captain fall apart. 

He’s clutching you to his chest, he doesn’t want anyone else near you or touching you. He’s still sobbing, but it’s growing softer into whimpers.

He gives you soft kisses across your face, silent pleas for you to wake up. His lips finally meet yours, a final goodbye to you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips, and the entire crew takes back a step in shock. 

“Luffy?” You groan, still pressed against him so tightly it hurts. “You’re crushing me.”

He just holds you tighter, returning to hard sobbing again. “Stay with me,” he chokes out. “Please don’t die.”

“That’s impossible,” Chopper whispers. “Y/N was dead.”

You take a second to process. “I guess a true love's kiss brought me back.”

“If I give you more, you better live forever,” Luffy says, covering you in even more kisses. 

Zoro

He carries your limp body to Chopper, begging him to fix you. But he knows it’s too late. He doesn’t know what you were hit by, but he knew when he pressed his head against your chest, your heart was still. 

He lays you on the ground for Chopper to run an examination. Chopper confirms his worst fear. It was too late.

He holds you, running his hands through your hair, whispering words of apologies to you. He blames himself, of course. He wasn’t strong enough to keep you safe. 

He presses his lips into your forehead first, taking a deep inhale to try and remember your smell. He’s having trouble accepting the fact he’ll never smell your shampoo again, never see your smile. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He moves his lips down to yours, giving you one last kiss as a goodbye. He pulls away to find your eyes staring at him, scared to see him so sad.

He drops you in shock, his face contorting into a weird mix of confusion and joy. He doesn’t know how to feel or what’s going on, and you're just as confused. 

“What the hell?” he yelled, prompting Chopper to look up and see you alive and well. The reindeer screams while you look at your boyfriend in confusion. 

“What?” you ask, irritated that was his reaction to kissing you.

Zoro just stares at you, mouth agape. You can see his eyes are still watery, and the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds until Chopper screams. “You were dead, Y/N! Really dead!”

“No I wasn’t,” you shoot back, trying to hide your panic. 

“You were,” Zoro whispered. He lunged at you, his lips pressing against yours for a long time. 

You finally push him off of you, gasping for air. “Damn, Zoro! Don’t kill me again!” you said, feigning a coughing fit. “Although, I guess you could, as long as you bring me back with another kiss, mmkay?”

Before he has the chance to say something snarky back, you lean in for another kiss, and he happily accepts it. 

[themotherofhorses]

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: “please,” aemond begs, keeping you flush against him as he nuzzles your breasts. “allow me to make love to you, sweet girl.”

(or aemond's first time with his handmaid).

warnings: explicit lang. a tiny bit of angst at the beginning. protective!aemond. p in v smut. slight breeding kink. spitting kink towards the end. fluff. all around good vibes bc aemond's in love and we all love that for him.

notes: happy birthday to me. pls be nice to me, i'm unfortunately entering my twenties today.

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

Aemond spends the better part of the chilly winter day searching for his handmaid.

You had been missing when he returned to his bedchamber at midday, wishing to eat his lunch in your company. Did she forget my first rule, by chance? Aemond thought to himself, holding the chalice to his lips. Perhaps…but he could not stomach another bite of his roasted meat, his mind too consumed with thoughts of you.

So he looks throughout the kitchen wing, and the library and Great Hall, until he passes by his mother and sister in the hallway.

But neither woman claims to have seen you, and he’s left twice as confused and frustrated and concerned as he continues to wander about the Red Keep like some lovesick and anxious fool.

“Ah, my prince,” Lord Larys Strong purrs as his steps falls alongside Aemond’s. “Perchance I could be of service. I overheard you are looking for your little handmaid.”

Aemond turns to look at him. “Yes,” he answers, his eyebrow raising, “-have you seen her?”

The lord’s smile is sly. “Several hours ago, actually. She was heading up to the servant quarters…” but his smile then drops, quickly replaced with a frown, “but she seemed to be in tears, if I’m to remember correctly. Poor child, she was an awful, trembling mess, never once looking up to meet my eyes when I greeted her.”

“She was crying?” Aemond cocks his head sideways, swallowing down the ire beginning to bubble inside his chest.

“Yes. It was rather grievous and sad,” and Clubfoot shakes his head dolefully. “A maiden like her deserves a smile on her face at all times, would you not agree, my prince?”

Aemond’s jaw clenches, and he glances to the stairs leading upwards to the servant quarters. Someone made you cry? His blood turns cold, and his fist balls up at his side. Remembering where he was, he gives the lord a curt nod. “Thank you, Lord Strong,” and leaves it at that, rushing up the stairway and down the hall, whilst hundreds of questions thronged in his head.

Who dared make you cry? You, who is rightfully his- his handmaid, his woman. You were supposed to remain safe and happy within his room, tucked away from ill-tempered bastards and envious tongues. If he could not protect you…

He turns the corner, huffing. He’d see whoever made you cry is punished, Aemond decides as he walks down the strip, passing by shut door after door, until he hears fainting sobbing. A sniffle, then, and a tiny hiccup that soon follows. That stops him in his steps. You. You. You, you, you…

“Love,” he whispers, knocking his knuckles on the door before slowly cracking it open. “Love, it’s me.” You twist to meet him in sullen silence, and his heart shatters at the sight. Your pretty doe-eyes are both red and teary, and your bottom lip quivers. It’s busted too, more scarlet now than pink. But it is the ugly bruise coloring your left cheek- large and hand-shaped, that causes his eye to widen.

“Who?” he spat, crossing the room to gather you in his arms, his voice raising. “Who’s done this to you?”

But you lower your eyes, and bury your face within his neck, hiding away from his gaze and questions. Aemond softens, and his thumb gently strokes your cheek, pausing when you flinch. “My love, I need to know at once. This…this is a horrible injustice served upon you, one I know you did not deserve!”

You shake your head, face crumpling as another sob escapes you.

His eye narrows.

“Was it my brother?” Aemond demands. “Or a houseguard?”

“No,” you mumble, feeling ill, like your tummy is tied in a knot. “It was neither, my prince.”

“Well?”

You sigh. “It was one of the septas, a new one to the castle. I do not know her name,” you explain. “She caught me in your room and scolded me, saying how it was beyond disrespectful and ill-mannered of me to flaunter about your bedroom as if it was my own. She said…she said you would have my head for such, and when I tried to explain myself,” and you hiccup, feeling a wave of fresh tears, “-that I was your handmaid, she slapped me!”

“She said I would have your head? That I would kill you?”

You nod, wiping away the few fat tears streaking down your cheek, wincing at the slight sting from the bruised skin. “She said she would bring it up with the Queen herself, that there was no need for insolent little maids like me running around the castle. Oh, I’m so sorry, my prince. I’m terribly sorry. Please, please, please forgive me!”

But Aemond’s thumb brushes lightly across your plump lip, shushing you. “Those words should never fall from these lips, sweetling. They were not made for that.” You feel like crying again, this time from relief.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, my love. I couldn’t even imagine…” his voice trails off. How could this septa easily plant a seed of doubt within your mind, and make you think he would ever harm you? Or call for your death? As if you’re not the very air he breathes every day.

“You terrified me when I could not find you earlier, love.”

By now, you’re a lot calmer and breathing fine again, nestled within his embrace. Your cheek still stings but you’ll live. You lay your head against Aemond’s chest, listening to his faint heartbeat in his breast. Thump, thump, thump.

No more words are shared between the two of you, but his kiss on your temple says much more than anything could.

Soon, Aemond takes you back to his bedchamber, to his tub, and calls for several women to tend to you while he busies himself in burning the servant garb you were wearing today, until nothing is left but sooty ashes and singed cloths. He refuses to allow you to wear that shabby, tainted dress you were so wrongfully punished in. If not for you, then for himself. It eases his mind. And someday you’ll wear nothing but the finest and prettiest gowns, he swears, ones that are fit for no one but a princess.

He’ll have a talk with his mother too. His queen mother has a soft spot for his handmaid, he knows, and Helaena too. This will not go unseen and unpunished.

The prince returns when your bath is finished, and dismisses the women before carrying you off to his featherbed. You’re still quiet, hushed, lips pressed in a tight line while he dries your hair. “You do not need to do this, my prince,” you tell him softly, nervously lacing your fingers together. “I’m undeserving of such treatment, really. It should be I who does this for you.”

“Nonsense, sweetling.”

He’ll be your husband one day, and is merely practicing his husbandly duties, although he doesn’t actually say that piece aloud. It’s all a bit tricky right now, but he’s already decided he will not marry anyone who isn’t you.

Aemond bends to kiss your shoulder, ever so tenderly. You have four pretty birthmarks littering the skin, and he presses a sweet kiss atop all of them. He loves it. You’re so fucking gorgeous. “You’re mine,” he mumbles, nuzzling his forehead against your shoulder blade. “It’s my duty to care for you.”

“No, my prince, ‘tis my duty as your servant.”

He smiles up at you. “Ah, and I’m your protector, best to remember that, sweet girl.” And he leaves nothing more to be said, quickly standing you up in front of him, naked and breathing messily and too shy to meet his eye. Oh, but you’re too pretty for your own good, he tells himself. His fingertips gently trace along your hipbones while he leans to nuzzle his face into your tummy. Aemond then feels your soft hands finding his hair, fingers raking through as you sigh deeply.

“You smell good,” he whispers. “So damn good.”

You giggle. “Do I, my prince?”

Aemond hums, raising his face up to kiss your nipple- once, twice, thrice. He feels you suddenly tense against him, your breath catching in your throat. “Nice and warm and all mine,” he adds, blowing a puff of warm air over your breast that earns him a sweet little moan, one that sends blood rushing down to his cock. His arms circle around your waist, hands falling to knead your asscheeks.

“Let me make love to you.”

“My prince?” you ask, eyes widening as you recoil from your prince’s touch, your legs suddenly feeling weak like water.

Did you hear him right?

“Please,” Aemond begs, keeping you flush against him as he nuzzles your breasts. “Allow me to make love to you, sweet girl.” I see my future in your face. My children in your eyes. His hand cups your right breast, catching a hard nipple between two fingers. My sons at your breasts. His handmaid has come for him, to deliver to him everything he’s been so cruelly denied in this life. “Say yes,” he murmurs. “Let me finally claim you as mine own.” It is your blood I need, your blood on my sheets, and my seed in your belly, and your life and name as my own.

You close your eyes, yet still see your handsome prince grinning at you.

It’s wrong, you think. It’d be so wrong of us. I’d be banished.

I can’t.

I can’t.

I can’t.

“Okay, my prince,” you say, with a bated breath. “Make love to me.”  

An hour later, the wind has risen to a sharp howl against the stone walls, and fat raindrops ping against the windowpane. A winter storm, but there is little to no need to worry about such.

You’re quite nicely warm and dry, and safe within your prince’s arms as he nudges your thighs open. He’s already been down there, spending a good half of the last hour feasting on your wet cunt. It was like he’d been fasting for weeks; he took little mercy on you.

“Open wide,” he mutters. “Good girl. Keep ‘em like that for me.”

You whimper. Your Prince Aemond is gorgeous, with silver hair that shines like fresh snow and pale, naked skin that is covered in faint scarring, undoubtedly from boyhood. You’ve never seen someone so beautiful. His arms are thickened with lean, lithe muscle as he holds himself above your body, one hand laced firmly in yours.

And he looks down at you with bright, violet eyes, with a look perhaps only a man gives his new bride on her wedding night.

It makes you squirm beneath him.

He slides his cock in slowly, hissing at your tightness. “FUCK.” His head dips down near yours, lips barely grazing your ear as he lets out a low moan. “Gods be fucking good, you feel so fucking good…wrapped around my fucking cock, at last,” he says, voice raspy. “Right where you belong.”

Aemond feels that he won’t last long. He’s back to the days of his boyhood, during his thirteenth nameday when Aegon took him to the whorehouse, and he felt a woman’s touch for the first time.

Except now he has the woman he wants- soft and submissive and cunny wet and ready for him- and it is his turn to teach and guide her.

“Ah, my brave girl,” he tells you, pausing to kiss your forehead, then your swollen, pink lips. “It hurts, I know. It’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

And afterward, Aemond Targaryen’s watching as you shake and sob and fall to utter pieces, your beautiful face scrunched up in blissful pleasure as his thrusts soon quicken, and his hips snap into yours with such a harsh pace, it’s sure to leave dark bruises behind.

Your hands find his shoulders in a tight grip, in some desperate attempt to cling onto him whilst he fucks you good.

And, thankfully, it’s his name that tumbles out of your mouth, and not his stupid royal title. It follows your cries and moans and whimpers that echo throughout his bedchamber. To Aemond, it is poetic in some way. Several months back you were seated on his settee, singing, and now you’re buried within his sheets as he makes you a mother.

His loins ache for release, and he fondles your breast, toying with your nipple as he pounds you only harder. Aemond hopes to any god listening that the guards outside are listening in, and the serving girls too. He’s a prince of the realm- he means to claim all his rights. Let them all hear as he plows into his handmaid and stuffs her full of his sons.

Beneath him, you shudder and gasp- again and again- before arching your spine and flinging your arms around his neck. “AEMOND,” you scream, feeling a sudden tightness deep within your belly, almost like you’re only several seconds away from exploding into flames. Perhaps you are.

“Mercy on me, Aemond! Please!”

“Shhh,” Aemon coos, cradling your face as he fucks you through your orgasm. “I have you, pretty girl. You’re okay. Doesn’t this feel good? It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Ah, so- so good, Aemond…!”

He grins at your fucked-out face, and the little bit of drool pooling around the corner of your mouth, before lightly tapping his fingertip against your bottom lip. “Open up,” he commands, squeezing your cheeks together, when your mouth opens, he spits in it. “Now swallow- mmm, such a good girl, always doing what I say.”

Aemond chooses all his words carefully, loving the way his sweet little handmaid preens under all his given attention and praises, so prettily that he’s willing to discard all of his morals and seed her full of his future bastards. Silver-haired babes that would gurgle at him happily, and grow to carry on his name and legacy.   

For her, he thinks, leaning to kiss you again, feeling your cunt clamping down on him, she’s worth every damn thing and more.

tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes @elegantsplendour @katzarantos @fan-goddess @okfashionista @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @mochimommy2002 @fangirlninja67

[kaiijo]

Hii!! I loved the idea of the spotify wrapped event and I also loved your one piece one shots! Can I request 41 x Law? If you dont write for him you can write for Zoro or whoever you think would be fitting :)

IVY — TRAFALGAR LAW

trafalgar law + Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland content: gn! reader, canon-typical descriptions of violence, references to law’s past notes: thanks so much for your kind words! hope you enjoy this drabble!

request a character and prompt for my spotify wrapped event here!

law is no stranger to nightmares. he’s accustomed to jolting awake, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, chest heaving with anxiety and fear. he tries to remember what his parents used to tell him to calm his racing heart: inhale for four seconds, hold for seven, exhale in a count of eight. 

in. hold. out.

in. hold. out.

law doesn’t sleep a lot anymore, always locked in his office late at night, poring over books about anatomy and medicine and illnesses. it’s mostly because he’s working, the insomnia, but he knows there’s a part of him that’s almost scared to sleep — that doesn’t want to see looped images of dead bodies, feel the heat of erupting flames, hear the sounds of gunshots. 

law watches as you and penguin duck under a round of marine gunfire, diving for cover behind a building. civilians draw their shutters closed. the crew’s gotten what they need from the town, now it’s a matter of getting out. 

you sprint out from your hiding place, penguin hot on your heels. there’s another rain of bullets and law’s stomach lurches when he sees red dribbling down your arm, skin grazed by the bullet. he needs to get you two out of there now.

law lifts a hand. “room. shambles.” he switches you and penguin out for an empty crate and just like that, the two of you are standing safe on the polar tang’s deck. you’re both breathing hard, penguin resting his hands on his knees. you grab at your arm and law can tell that whatever adrenaline has been pumping through your veins is starting to wear off; you wince at the cut on your arm, your palm stained with blood. 

law gets the crew mobilized fast, everyone hustling to get the below deck so the polar tang can submerge. law swiftly and efficiently takes down the remaining marines, heading down below as the submarine sinks below the water.

he finds you heading for the washroom. he calls your name and you whirl around quickly. “captain,” you greet him.

“follow me.” law makes sure his tone leaves no room for argument and you shuffle behind him as he walks to the operating room.

you frown when you enter the room. “captain, i really don’t think my injury warrants an opera—”

he sighs heavily. “i’m not operating. just want to get somewhere more sterile. sit on the table.”

you obey easily and law opens up a cabinet, grabbing hydrogen peroxide, a roll of bandages, and antibiotic cream. he also picks up a sterilized pair of tweezers. when he turns around, you’re already shrugging out of your boiler suit, twitching as the fabric rubs against your wound. 

law approaches, doing is best to keep his eyes on the wound and not on the exposed skin you revealed. when you joined the crew, law had never been more thankful to himself for making the boiler suits uniform. he doesn’t know if he could focus otherwise.

he examines the wound, looking closely to see if there are any bits of debris or fabric stuck in it. when he doesn’t see anything, law soaks a sterile pad in hydrogen peroxide and presses it against your graze. you make a high-pitched, wounded sound that cuts right through law’s heart and he tries his best to tenderly but thoroughly clean the wound. you flinch, gritting your teeth and hissing, “you really must hate me, captain.” 

you let out a pained laugh that lets law know you were joking but your statement still makes him frown. if only you knew just how much the opposite was true.

law sighs again, wrapping the bandage roll around your arm and snapping off a piece, securing it. you test the motion of your arm and law asks, “too tight?”

“no, it’s good.” you hop off the table. “thanks, doc.”

“i’ll need to check that every few days,” he tells you, “to watch for infection.”

“sounds good! guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” you shoot him a cheeky smile and thank him again as you slip out of the room. law is rooted to his spot, feeling heat climb up his neck. you faint scent lingers — cinnamon shampoo and apple soap.

law’s heart skips a beat.

late into the night, law sits at his desk in his office, doing is best trying to focus on the medical text in front of him. he thinks about the smoothness of your skin and the way your eyes curve into half-moons when you smile. he drags a hand down his face. 

he needs to focus. he needs to not think about you. he needs to think about bones and hairline fractures and how fast the human heart can go before it—

law hears footsteps and he knows it’s you, beckoning you in even before you can announce your arrival and knock on the door. you swing it open, smiling brightly at him. gods, he swears you hold moonbeams in your grin.

“right as always,” you say as you close the door behind yourself. 

“do you need something? is it your arm?”

you shake your head. “no, just thought i’d check up on you. knew you’d still be up.”

law offers a wry smile. “no rest of the wicked.”

“i’d agree with you, but you’re not wicked, captain.”

law raises an eyebrow in surprise. he is wicked — it’s a known fact. everything he touches is destroyed eventually. when he doesn’t reply, you continue, “you look out for everyone, you’re a doctor for gods’ sakes.”

“so? bad people can do good things.”

your moonbeam smile falls and your expression turns stern. “you care for us, captain, all of us in a way that no one truly wicked ever would. don’t talk about yourself that way. ”

his heart’s in his throat and he’s desperately trying to swallow it down. “okay.”

you nod firmly and then bring your hand up to hide your yawning mouth. law tells you, “you should get some rest.”

“i came here to get you to go to sleep.”

“don’t worry about me.”

you cross your arms. “i’m not going to sleep until you do.”

law levels you with a stare and you gaze right back, unwavering in your conviction. you two stare for a good few seconds. he can see the way your eyes shimmer. it doesn’t seem that you’re backing down. law breaks the connection and sighs, “fine. let’s go.”

he puts away his books and papers and the two of you head down the hallway. he tries to guide you to your room first but you say, “nope. i want to make sure you actually go to sleep.” so you head for his quarters first. 

you come to his door and you say, “you better get some sleep. a healthy, well-rested captain is vital for an efficient and successful crew.”

“i know.” 

he basks in the comfortable silence that falls over the pair of you. then, you yawn again and he orders you off to bed yourself. you smile sleepily at him, your eyes form crescents again as you do so. “alright, i’m off then.” you turn and begin to walk away. over your shoulder, you call softly, “good night, law.”

he bids you good night and steps inside his room, door shutting behind him. it’s in there, as he’s changing into pajamas, that he realizes. 

it’s the first time you said ‘law,’ not ‘captain.’

your voice repeats like a record in his head. law. law. law. his heart thunders in his chest.

for the first time in a long time, law isn’t afraid to fall asleep. instead of the screaming nightmares he usually faces, he’s met with a different image as he drifts off. 

in a tender, hazy light, law dreams of you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 18

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“You know, sweetie, I was thinking,” Steve stacks the plates and gathers the utensils, “if you’re going to take those pills, I don’t think you should be alone.” 

You blink and sit up, rubbing your neck. You’re not a good liar. You weren’t planning on taking them. You were just going to go home and lay down but he keeps bringing it up. Maybe he’s suspicious. 

“Oh, I think I’ll be okay--” 

“Look, honey, your mom’s already in the hospital. I’d hate to see you in there with her. For my peace of mind, will you stay? Just for the night. That way we can head out bright and early to get mom,” he suggests. 

“Well...” you trail off, staring at the wall. 

He’s being pushy but for good reason. He’s looking out for you. You’re the one going against doctor’s orders and why? Because it’s embarrassing to think it’s that bad. Depressed? No, just pathetic. 

“Here, you can borrow some of my clothes,” his voice muffles as he goes into the kitchen and the plates clink in the sink. He reappears and grabs the boxes from the table, wiggling free on and peeling the flap open, “take a shower and relax. You need a good night’s sleep.” 

He pulls out the insert then reaches for the doctor’s note. He pops out a tablet and holds it out to you, “says you might get lightheaded. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” 

“I... It’s okay. I’ll go home to...” you bat your lashes at him and give up. He’s just as hard to argue with as your mother, although in a much different way. Your mom is stubborn and mean, but he’s concerned and you’re the one being obstinate. “Okay.” 

You take the pill and stare at it. It’s so small. You probably won’t feel a thing. You shrug and grab your glass of water and swig it down, tossing the tablet in your mouth before you swallow. You gulp thickly and set down the glass. 

“Right, let me get you something to sleep in. And a towel,” he says as he claps his hands. 

You nod and stay at the table as he strides off. You look down at your lap, thumbs twiddling around each other. As nice as he is, you’re starting to feel like just another burden. 

Before you can sink too far into self-pity, you make yourself get up. You take your glass and carry it into the kitchen. You flip on the faucet and dump what’s left of the water. You rinse out the glass and place it in the rack of the dishwasher. You do the plates next, then the cutlery. As you close the door and it clicks, you’re startled by the shadow to your left. 

Where the counter extends, Steve stands on the other side. You blanch and fold your hands over your chest. You show your teeth sheepishly. 

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he smiles. “You’re a guest.” 

“I... I wanted to help,” you say, “um, but... I don’t know how to turn it on.” 

“Leave that to me. I put the stuff in the bathroom for you. If you feel like it, you can have a bath. Help chase away the stressful day,” he offers. 

“Shower’s fine,” you drop your arms and raises your shoulders, trying to make yourself smaller, “thanks.” 

“No problem, sweetie,” he comes around the counter as you go to move in the opposite direction. You nearly collide and press yourself against the drawers as he grazes past you with and apology, “just... gonna finish up.” 

He presses a button on the dishwasher door and you flit away. His cologne clings in your nostrils as his warmth lingers around you. Too close. 

You go upstairs and shut yourself in the bathroom. It’s a little bit of solace. It’s not much but it’s space for yourself. You see the towel hung from the rack and the clothes folded on the counter. The tee shirt is grayish blue and the shorts are drawstring and stretchy.  

You twist and turn the faucet, water running into the sharp-cornered tub but you can’t figure out how to get the showerhead going. You turn the water off then on. Off and on. What the heck? 

“You okay in there, sweetie?” Steve calls through the door as friction rubs against the outside. 

“Um, yeah,” you shut off the tub and back up. You go to the door and flick the lock back, opening it just a little. “How... I can’t get the shower...” your words jumble up with your embarrassment. How stupid. You can’t even figure that out. 

“No problem,” he steps in and you back up. 

He goes to the tub and flips on the water, pulling out the lever until the water flows from above. You could smack yourself. Instead ,you thank him and hug yourself. He turns and winks at you, “all good. Anything else?” 

“No, I’m fine,” you assure him. 

He nods and marches back to the door, turning to tap on the edge of the door, “alright, sweetie.” 

He shuts the door and you go to lock it behind him. You retreat and slowly undress. The clothes you’ve been wearing since the night before are slightly musty with sweat and the stench of the hospital.

You step under the showerhead and let the temperature seep in. You lean your head back as it splashes down your chest. You stand with your eyes closed, your mind slowing and your eyelids scratchy. You feel your muscles slacken and sway just a little. 

Oof. You open your eyes and steady yourself. You look around and find a bottle of woodsy-scented soap. It’ll have to do. You won’t use too much, either. 

The steam forms a cloud around you. The humidity clogs in your nose and chest and swirls in your head. You’re dizzy as you slap a hand on the tile and turn off the faucet. 

You stagger out. The heat of the water fogs the mirror, further setting you off kilter. You pull on the shirt and shorts then collect your own clothes. You leave the towel on the rod and lean into the door as you unlock it. 

You trip out into the hall and wander along, for a moment, forgetting where you are. You enter the bedroom with the purple bedspread and dump the armful on the dresser. You stumble and sit on the edge of the bed. You slump onto your shoulder and your head lolls. You think the medicine is kicking in. 

You close your eyes and descend into the grey. It’s as if you’re floating on water, swaying and rolling with the tides. Not quite awake and not quite asleep. You hear yourself droning nonsensically. Snort and jerk but can’t break free of the heaviness. The world is moving around you but your eyelids won’t peel back. 

Your head pulses as you sink further and further down. Your subconscious is so deep it’s suffocating. The dim darkens to an endless void through which you hurtle down towards no bottom. The blackness unfurls before you, swallowing you up. 

You wake to the ceiling above you. There’s warmth against your side and a gentle breath brushing over your cheek. You groan and look over as the slumbering form next to you. You nearly scream at the sight of Steve but you don’t have the strength to do more than babble. 

Your arms shake as you sit up, your muscles sore and strained. You hold your head as you try to think straight. You shut your eyes again and urge yourself to wake up. It’s a nightmare. Some twisted dream. 

Your lashes flick up and you tilt your head to follow the yellow light seeping in between the curtains. It’s morning already. Your vision turns vivid and you’re certain you’re truly awake. But how did you end up here? 

“Sweetie,” Steve rasps groggily as he rolls onto his back, “you okay?” 

“Steve,” you look down at the tee shirt, drooping down one shoulder, “how... why am I in here?” 

“Hmm,” he rubs his forehead and opens his eyes, “you don’t remember?” 

“Remember?” 

“You came in here, saying you couldn’t sleep,” he lifts himself up, his chest bare as the blanket falls away, “you wouldn’t go back to bed so... I just let you stay. You seemed pretty out of it.” 

“I... I did?” You gurgle. 

“Must be the pills,” he rubs your back, “we can talk to the nurse again. Sweetie, are you okay?” 

You don’t understand. Why would you come in here? How can you not remember? 

“Nothing... happened?” 

He laughs, “sweetie, what would happen?” 

He stares at you and you grimace, shaking your head, “nothing. Nothing, I just... can’t remember.” 

“Hm,” he hums and his hand slides lower, stopping just above your bum before brushing back up, “just sleeping. That’s it.”