#I wanted to try my hand at short form horror

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Demon King Headcanons

You have accepted the Demon King’s marriage proposal!

I wasn't planning on writing a second part, but some of you gave me ideas and I decided on short headcanons instead. The image of a big, buff, evil Overlord lovingly doing house chores for their human was too tempting.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance

[Main Story]

The proposal, as you quickly found out, came as a surprise to everyone. Not even the King’s loyal butler knew of such intentions; he’d assumed they were finally going to destroy everything and everyone at once. To him, the dramatic scene of you and his Lord enveloped in flames was anything but a romantic confession. It was your final battle. So one might imagine the poor lizard’s confusion when the Demon King returned with you following behind. “S-sir?” He questioned meekly. The armored creature nodded at his servant. “It has been done. We’ll plan the wedding upon our arrival home.” The what? His baffled expression must’ve given him away, because the Demon continued: “What’re you gawking like that for? Didn’t I ask you earlier how humans forge a bond?” The butler stumbled to search for his words, swallowing dryly. “Well y-yes, your Majesty…I just didn’t expect it to be anything more than curiosity.”

The same speechless reaction repeated itself all the way to the Kingdom. Soldiers, diplomats, other monstrous entities of the unknown Land, they all greeted you in disbelief. So much, in fact, that you began to poke fun at their hesitant response: “I am his mortal enemy”, you’d announce with a dramatic bow. “Spouse! We talked about this!” the Demon Lord would quickly correct you, flustered.

Truth be told, you're not quite sure what made you accept this ridiculous offer. Perhaps a mixture of intrigue and disillusionment. The city you've dedicated yourself to stood no longer, burnt to a crisp along with its corruption and crookery. In a way, the monster had unshackled you from a responsibility you no longer wanted to bear. And if that wasn't enough to convince you, well, the sight of the Ruler himself kneeling before you certainly sealed the deal.

Although it may take a while for you to accept the idea that your worst adversary had actually been infatuated with you this entire time. Were there even any hints? During your last battle you nearly died. You'd crawled out of an enormous crater on your fours, bones shattered and ligaments torn. When you pointed this out to your groom-to-be, he stared at you in horror. "I had no idea humans were that fragile. I was trying to adjust my strength so as to not do any harm." You could only nod, patting away the sweat beads forming on your forehead. Uh huh. Maybe it's better you didn't experience his full range of attacks.

Ever since the devastating revelation, he's been extra careful when handling you. Sometimes he'll awkwardly hover his large hands above you, with a concentrated frown on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm trying to be gentle." he'll answer. "You're not even touching me." Fair point, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

The Demon King will often ask you about customs from your world as a way to make you comfortable, just in case you get struck by the occasional homesickness. His Realm is very different from what you're used to, after all. Lamentably, his own years spent in the human world were not too fruitful from a cultural point of view. He was either busy stalking you or devouring the souls of the innocent. Now that he has nothing else to worry about, he will gladly listen and even do his best to actively participate.

You wake up shrouded in thick smoke. Overwhelmed by heavy déjà vu, you rush down the grand stairs, searching for the source of the fire. Are you being attacked? Enemies of the Demon King? You elbow yourself against the kitchen door, similar to when you left your home to find the city ablaze. The Demon Lord turns to face you, visibly overwhelmed and exhausted. You gawk at the scene unfolding before you and remember to close your mouth, mainly out of politeness. "It's too small. I'm afraid I cannot use it", he reveals timidly, holding a human spatula between his fingers to showcase the impractical size difference. You glance at the disastrous attempt behind him and manage to deduce he'd been trying to make breakfast. In an unspoken agreement, he steps back and allows you to take over.

"I'm surprised you let him burn down the kitchen", you mention to the butler once you get a moment to yourself. The scaly servant sighs, and theatrically lifts his clawed hands in hopelessness. "Pointless to argue with him when he's like this, (Y/N). In my entire life serving the Family, I've never witnessed a more stubborn leader." He points to the lavish portraits adorning the walls with a faint smile. "And, to put it frankly, he's obsessed with you. I've never seen him in a more deplorable state. Marrying a human?! The shame, the outrage!” he cries out. “No offense intended to you, of course. You must understand." You hum in agreement, a tad uncomfortable, yet sympathetic. "M-maybe it'll tone down after the wedding?" you suggest as encouragement. "Oh, no, I suspect it will only get worse", he bemoans in return. Then, he promptly straightens his back and resumes his duties.

You go on your own way, not wanting to burden the lizard in his work. As you cross the hallway, you find the Demon King himself scanning each room, somewhat agitated. He notices you and his features soften. "I was wondering where you'd vanished." You approach him with the words of the butler still ringing in your ears.

[oikasugayama]

YOU TELL HIM THAT YOU'RE H0RN¥

PREMISE: You're just friends, but you wanna test the boundaries. How does he react when you tell him that you're horny?

INCLUDES: Akutagawa, Dazai, Nikolai, Poe, Atsushi, Ranpo

No smut, heavy on dialogue. These are goofy!! One part only.

Akutagawa

That gif is the horny taking over his body.

"Akutagawa."

"Hm?"

"I'm horny."

He looks up at you, face somewhere between horror-stricken and confused.

"Why would you say such a thing to me?"

"Obviously because I want you to do something about it."

"What?"

"I said--"

"--No, no, I heard you the first time."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Sooo, do you want to have sex, orrr?"

Akutagawa stares blankly at something nearby for a solid minute, completely silent, and then stands up abruptly.

"Yes. Let's go to a love hotel."

Dazai

"Dazaaaaai. I'm horny," you whine, an over-exaggerated pout on your face.

"Ohh? Shall I help you take care of that?" He purrs, exaggeratedly flirting. "I'll treat you reaaaal nice." He winks, ready for you to say something like "ew no, freak" and laugh it off like usual. Except...

"God, yes. I was gonna ask."

"Huh?" He short-circuits. He pauses, trying to figure out if you're fucking with him or not. Usually you'd start laughing after two or three seconds, but you're standing up and walking toward him--

"Holy shit. Oh my god, you're serious?!" He jumps up from his chair, eyes lighting up, and horny stirring in his pants. "If you're joking you have to tell me right now."

"Why don't you come with me to the broom closet and see if I'm joking?"

"This is the greatest day of my life," he says as you pull him along.

Nikolai

"I'm really horny, so you're gonna have to stop looking so hot or I'm gonna have to leave."

The grin he already wore spread wider across his face.

"Is that so?"

He summons and portal and in the blink of an eye is crowding you in your space, laying a hand on your thigh, breathing on your neck.

"What's doing it for you, dovey? Is it the beautiful, luscious hair? My devilishly handsome smile?"

"It's those fucking thunder thighs in the striped pants is what it is," you huff, trying to push him back, but he takes your hands and moves your arms to be around his shoulders.

"I can keep them on while I fuck you," he says lowly into your ear. "Would you like that?"

You pull him against you.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Nikolai."

Poe

"Poe, I'm having a really nice time hanging out with you and all, but I have to be honest: I'm really horny, so I probably need to go home before I start trying to fuck you."

He is so flustered that he can't even form a sentence. What you can see of his face is beet red, and he scrambles for the door. You think he's going to open it and usher you out, but he presses his back against it, blocking your exit.

"No," he finally says, "Don't leave."

"Poe, you're in the danger zone. If I don't relieve some tension I'm gonna get really grouchy."

"I can help," he stutters out.

"Huh?"

He starts trying to apologize, but you laugh and cross the room to him.

"I didn't expect you to be into it," you admit. "I definitely said it to get your attention, but I thought you'd say no."

"Then I have not made my feelings known enough."

Atsushi

"Can I ask you a stupid question?"

"Sure!" Atsushi responds enthusiastically. Your head is laying in his lap and you're staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Do you ever get horny when you hang out with your friends?"

"Uhh, I don't think that's something that happens with your friends," he says, and you turn to look up at him.

"It doesn't? Like, you've never gotten horny while spending time with me?"

"Uhh..." His face slowly starts turning red.

"I've gotten horny hanging out with you. I'm kind of horny right now, honestly."

"UMMMMM..........."

"So you're saying that right now my face being near your dick isn't turning you on?"

"I wouldn't say that..."

"I sure hope you wouldn't because I think I can literally feel you getting hard against my skull. Do you wanna stop talking and start making out now?"

Ranpo

"I'm horny."

"I know."

"What? How do you know?"

"You keep squirming in your seat, you're trying to arch your back when you lean your elbow on the table, and you keep biting your lip when you think I'm not looking at you."

"But you must be looking at me because you noticed all of that. But I haven't seen your eyes on me."

"I'm watching you from the corner of my eye like I usually do."

"Oh? And why would you be watching me, Ranpo?"

"Because I like to?" he says like it's obvious.

"Do you have a little crush on me, Ranpo?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. If only you have my super deduction you'd know."

"I don't think I need super deduction to know. I think I can figure it out in one question."

"Oh? Try me."

"When are you going to fuck me?"

He tries to bite back a smile but he can't. He finally looks directly at you, and it tells you everything you need to know.

"Your place or mine?"

[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ BETRAYAL ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ A day in the Leclerc home is never quiet. Cause of noise this day? Charles’s screams of horror when his boys don’t support Ferrari. And the biggest blow? They support Redbull and Mclaren (requested!)

PAIRING ౨ৎ Charles Leclerc x Wife!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ charles being dramatic, a short fic!! (i’m saying that it’s like a blurb kinda short but not a blurb lol so a imagine i think..?)

A/N ౨ৎ i will forever see charles as a girl dad 😞😞 but i’ll do this just for you anon

IN THE MORNING, Monaco is absolutely stunning. The sun coming up over the Mediterranean Sea gives the whole place an elegant and fancy atmosphere, the smell of freshly baked pastries from the cafes mixes with the sea breeze, people are out for a stroll along the promenade or at outdoor cafes with their morning coffee, or the yachts in the harbor accompanied by the beautiful architecture. It’s serene. Quiet.

Yet, the Leclerc household is never quiet. Even in the early hours of the mornings.

You gave a sigh before sipping the freshly brewed coffee you made while looking out the window of your apartment, taking in the sight resting your head on Charles’s shoulder, enjoying the tranquility while the twins and Noemié are still away for a while.

Charles wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both enjoyed the fleeting moment of calm. “Good morning, mon amour.”

Charles wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both enjoy the fleeting moment of calm. “Good morning, mon amour,” he murmurs softly, his lips brushing against your temple.

You turn your head slightly, giving him a small smile as your free hand slips up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Morning,” you reply, your voice soft and warm, taking in the serenity of the moment. “Did you sleep well?” You questioned, your eyes meeting his.

“As long as I’m next to you, I’ll be sleeping well every night I’m here.” Charles responded, his voice slightly raspy from just getting out of bed not too long ago.

The peaceful morning, however, takes a sudden turn when Charles's hand starts to roam, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. You chuckle, feeling the playful intent behind his touch. “Charles…” you warn, though there’s no real heat behind it. However, the moment soon evaporated by two familiar voices.

“Papa! Look at what Uncle Max and Lando gave us!” One of the boy’s voice carries with excitement, waving a Red Bull cap stitched with the number “1” on it.

The other, follows close behind, clutching a McLaren his own hat, but with no specific number. “And I got a Mclaren one!”

Charles raises an eyebrow, glancing between his two sons with a questioning expression.

Redbull? Mclaren? Pardon?

“Wait a minute, what’s this?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the growing confusion.

Julien grins widely. “I’m a Red Bull fan, Papa! I want to be just like Max!” He holds up his Red Bull gear proudly.

Matteo, not to be outdone, puffs out his chest. “I like McLaren now!” He smiles, showing off his new McLaren gear.

Charles blinks, momentarily lost in thought. “But… but you both have been to the same races. You know Papa drives for Ferrari, right?”

Julien shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, but Max is really cool! He wins a lotta races! Not like you Papa.”.

Charles’s eyes widen, his mouth forming a perfect "O" as he processes the information. He puts a hand to his forehead, as if trying to stave off a sudden headache. “Wait, hold on. Are you telling me that my own sons have chosen to support… other teams..?”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at his exaggerated disbelief. Julien and Matteo look up at him, each with a mix of pride and defiance in their eyes.

“Yes, Papa! Julien likes Red Bull, and I like McLaren!” Matteo insists, holding up his McLaren cap as if it were a trophy.

Charles’s dramatic reaction continues as he dramatically clasps his hands together in prayer, eyes wide with slight horror. “Mon dieu… my own boys… choosing teams that are my competitors… I think I just failed as a tifosi…”

You lean in to whisper to Charles, “Maybe they’re just testing your loyalty to Ferrari. Or they’ve picked their teams to give you a hard time.”

Charles shakes his head, still in slight despair over the situation. “I need to reconsider my parenting strategies. Perhaps I should start buying them Ferrari gear to remind them of their true team… I need to talk to Max, Lando and Oscar. They stole my own boys from me..”

You simply shake your head at his dramatics. “Oh please Charles, it’s not as if they are praying on your downfall. Besides Noemié I still a Ferrari fan, aren’t you mon chou?”

Noemié simply gave a hum in thought before formulating her response, “Hm… no. Ferrari sucks… I like Mercedes!”

That might have just been the final blow to Charles’s heart.

[onelittlespiral]

How about a jock twinning tf?👀

Looking alike, talking alike, then thinking alike

FML: Match

He never really stood a chance. The moment he walked into our new apartment together his days were numbered. No guy, and I mean no guy, can resist me for long. How could they, when it just feels so good to be me. He tried though. That first week he was a real prick. He would complain about my stuff everywhere, scoff at my friends, and try to cover up my scent. But 24/7 with me around starts to have an effect. I caught him picking up my stuff and stealing a quick sniff before throwing it in my room. The candles sat abandoned in his room. A pair of my boxers went missing. I finally caught him on week three. He was sitting, zoned out in the living room. It’s always so cute the first time they try to embrace it. Sprawled out on the floor, my boxers loose around his legs, hat backwards on his head. He already had a little beard going.

He didn’t even bother getting up when I came in. He was lost in the scent of me, and his body was trying everything to become what it was not.

“Get up!” His body came to as he snapped to attention. He tried making excuses, his face was a mix of confusion and horror at what he was wearing.

“I am so sorry, I have no idea… what’s happening? What are you doing to me?!?”

“I’m just living it up bro, you’re the one sitting in my underwear. You trying to be all of this?” I flexed my biceps in front of him, watching his body begin to pulsate. “Just flex bro. Let it out, let me out.” His arms curled and posed, copying my form. His forearms exploded with muscle, as he began to shout:

“No, please, let me go.”

“You can leave at any time, you just have to want to.” I struck another pose, popping my pecs and flexing my abs. He moved in unison with me, his stomach sucking in as abs pushed out. Pecs punched out of his chest with force as his torso stretched to copy mine.

“Please… I don’t want this. Why- how are you doing this?”

“It’s easy little bro,” I sat into a deep squat. His eyes rolled back in his head as his lower body erupted. Muscle tore through him, filling out calfs, thighs, and ass all at once. “I’m what every guys wants, what everyone craves to be. My scent, my hormones, my whole aura has been filling you for weeks. I’ve been inside. You’ve just got to let me out. Now,” I stood back up, his body parodying along like a puppet. His body was ready, even when his mind was not, “FLEX.” I hit a double-bicep pose.

“Ah…AuGH-AHHHGAUH!”

I was let loose from inside him.

It was like looking in a mirror. Fuck, I’m a stud. He was spacing out:

“Bro… no, fuck. Why, why do I sound like that?”

“You’re getting the full package little bro. You are going to look, sound, smell, think, and fuck just like me. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He shuddered in response. Immediately his cock began swelling, snaking down his leg. His mind was saying no but his body was saying yes. By now his balls were pumping him full of my hormones, invading his mind and filling him with my horny thoughts. Hands gripped his cock as he began jerking off in front of me, speeding up his transformation. Drool dripped from his open mouth and rolled down his chest.

“No, please. Why-why does it… feel…so…goooood? Hu-ungh-uhhhHHHh…”

He was riding the waves of pleasure as they engulfed his brain. He never stood a chance against me, but it was still so hot to watch him submit to his fate. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, and slowly I watched the lights go out upstairs. He was just like me now. No, better. He was me now. It was time. I walked up and pulled his hands from his cock, and replaced them with mine. I furiously began jacking him off as his brain short circuited and he just writhed in pleasure.

“Ha-hahu-ugh-huhuhuhuuuu-uHH-“

I leaned in, and planted one kiss on his sweaty brow and commanded:

“Now CUM.”

Instantly he let loose, hitting the back wall. It covered my hands, just adding to the lubrication as I finished him off. Rope after rope flew across the room, until he was shooting blanks still thrusting against my hands. He slowly slumped to the floor

“How you feeling bro?” I asked him

“Huuuuuuh…fuck bro I’m spent. You’re a god. How do you manage to get that much out of me every time?”

I chucked a bit. “I know all the right buttons to push bro. I just do what I would do to me.”

“God, I’m not gonna be horny for a week”

“Pfft, knowing you? I give it an hour.”

“God we’re so hot bro…”

The comment caught me a bit off guard. Did he… no. There wasn’t any part of him left that would know what just happened to him. I leaned in and gave my new doppelgänger a kiss:

“Yeah we are, bruh.”

[darkbluekies]

I just read Jerry and Hedwig reacting to us bleeding on the sheets what about the guys👀 specifically silas (cause my daddy issues run wild for him)😩

Silas, Dr Kry & King Edmund drabbles: bleeding through at a "sleepover" (or in their house)

The girls reaction male!yanderes (mob boss, doctor & king) x fem!reader Warnings?: sexual indication, disgusted by blood, yandere

Silas:

You're on a mission with him, staying in a house belonging to the second in command. Being the boss’s little darling has its benefits — especially in these situations. If you hadn't been his, chances are that you would get killed for ruining someone's sheets.

"Silas", you whisper while shaking him carefully. "Please, wake up. Oh, God, please wake up ..."

He grunts and opens his dark eyes, looking around confusedly before fixating his eyes on you. He freezes.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asks raspily and grabs your arm.

"I bled through ...", you whisper weakly, body full pf panic. "I didn't know, I wasn't supposed to start now!"

Silas removes the cover to look at the stain. He doesn't say anything as he removes them all before picking up his phone to call one of his most trustworthy men.

"Don't worry about it, baby", he says tiredly. "I'll fix this."

"Will your second in command get mad?" you ask hesitantly.

"He won't. He knows better." Silas holds the phone to his ear. "I need you to bring me new sheets and to send someone to buy whatever Y/N tells you to get. Here Y/N."

He gives you the phone. You tell the man on the other side what you need. He replies politely, knowing better than to talk informally to you. Silas stands by, watching carefully and rubbing your back.

As soon as you get what you need, you get out of your bottom clothes and change. Silas sits down in bed with you in his lap. He brings his legs up to trap you in his embrace. His rough hands sneak under your shirt to massage your aching stomach.

"You know ...", he whispers in your ear, hand traveling lower. "Exercise helps with cramps ... I know something that is a great form of exercise. Want me to show you?"

You grab his hand, moving it back to your stomach.

"Come on", he smirks against your jaw. "You'd like it."

"I'll kick your nuts if you continue talking", you warn him.

Silas chuckles and pulls the blankets higher, kissing your forehead.

"Women and their temperament", he grins and softens his face. "Guess I have to wait then. Why don't you try going to sleep, little thing? It's late."

"Are you sure your second in command won't be mad?" you ask carefully.

"If he even dares to snarl at you, I'll stain his sheets with his blood instead." Silas kisses your lips with a reassuring smile. "You have nothing to be worried about, little thing, I've always got your back."

Dr Kry:

He has installed a baby monitor, just a week prior, to being able to supervise you 24/7. He wakes up by hearing shuffling from the machine and takes a look to see you grabbing all of your sheets in your arms. Dr Kry frowns. Are you going to sleep on the floor again? You have such weird ideas to entertain yourself. But the look of sheer guilt and horror paints your face, knocking those thoughts out of his head. Dr Kry hurries to grab his silk robe and hurry up to your room.

You're currently washing them in the bathtub. You freeze when you hear him unlock the door and enter the room.

"Where are you?" he asks.

"Here", you reply quietly, watching how he enters the bathroom.

Dr Kry crouches down beside you on the floor, putting his hand on your shoulder. He glances between the sheets and your face.

"What happened?" he asks.

"I-I bled through", you say. "I'm so sorry, doctor, I will fix it-"

"No, you're not." Dr Kry grabs your arm and pulls you up in your feet. "I'll fix it. You're not well, you shouldn't do this."

You feel bad. Dr Kry works long shifts and during his only rest, you've forced him up to clean up the mess you've caused.

"Y/N, it's fine", the doctor reassures you and walks over to give you a short hug. "Things like this happens. You should look at it from another angle — you can be pregnant. You're fertile. Alright? That's a good thing. A very good thing."

He's secretly glad that his poisoning hasn't affected your reproduction organs. You need them. He wants you to have them. Dr Kry wants nothing more than to have children with you.

"Let's stop crying and realize that this isn't a big thing, okay?" he says and wipes your tears. "You don't have to be ashamed. I've watched much, much worse things."

"Like what?" you ask quietly.

Dr Kry smiles teasingly. "I've seen people spill urine samples on themselves, have had people using the rear temperature stick for a patients mouth, and whatnot. This is nothing. It's natural, nothing to be ashamed of."

You try not to smile. "Did someone really use the wrong temperature stick?"

Dr Kry grins and nods, happy to see you a bit calmer.

"Let's get you some painkillers now so you can go rest", he says and puts his hand on your back to guide you. "I'll change the sheets, and you can just sit by, okay? Everything you need is in the bathroom."

He sits with you until the cramps stop, and decide to stay in the room with you while you sleep, just in case you would wake up again. He smiles slightly for himself. The poisioned air hasn't ruined your chances of ferility, he couldn't be more greateful.

King Edmund

You're terrified of telling him. Edmund is the type to believe that you can hold it in. With absolutely zero knowledge about females, risk is that he will get mad at you for ruining his expensive sheets instead of understanding. You know that he buys them from special places. One of a kind.

Edmund has never been taught how women work, it has been taboo and unnecessary for him, as a king, to learn. The only thing he knows is that a woman bleeds once a month, and that is it. Nothing more. He doesn't know how it works or why it happens.

But you can't stop the maid from telling him. He comes walking from his office with a deep frown on his face. You're dead. Before sending the maids out, he walks over to the bed and inspects the damage. When the girls are gone and the door is closed, he turns to you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

"I thought that you would get mad", you admit quietly. "It's your expensive sheets ..."

"And you think that it'll help the situation by sending one of the maids to tell me, instead of telling me yourself?"

"I didn't send her. I didn't want you to know ... at all."

"Why?"

"I told you ... I was scared that you'd get mad. You'd have told me to keep it in."

He groans, hiding his face in his hands. "For fucks sake, Y/N!" He removes his hands. "Why in the living Hell would I care more about about a pair of sheets rather than my own wife?"

You don't answer. Edmund walks over and grabs your shoulders before pulling you into a hug.

"You underestimate me, my jewel", he mutters and kisses your temple. "Now, go take a bath."

He tells a maid to fill the tub with scalding hot water to soothe your cramps and tells another maid to change the sheets.

"Burn the sheets and the night gown", he tells the maid. "I don't want anyone unworthy to see my queen's blood, got it?"

And the maid nods quickly before running off.

While you sit in the steaming tub, Edmund sits on the floor beside it, keeping you company. He should be doing work, but instead he's here, with you.

"I'm sorry about your sheets", you sigh and lean against the tub. "I know that they're expensive."

"Shut up about those fucking sheets now", Edmund groans and caresses your cheek. "I have enough to buy a hundred more sheets. I could buy the entire world, if I wanted to. A few sheets are nothing for me."

He leans over to kiss your wet forehead.

"Are you disgusted?" you ask carefully.

"A bit ... but not as much as I thought I'd be", Edmund replies with a grimace. "I'm more concerned about you, to be honest. Seeing you bleed, in any way, makes my heart sink in a disgusting way. I'm just angry I don't have anyone to blame for your pain."

You try to joke. "Blame my parents for making me a girl."

But he looks deadly serious. "No, never. They made you ... my wife and queen. I could never blame them for giving you this pain." He sighs and taking your hand. "If there is anything i can do to take the pain away, tell me. Teach me."

"Well, you actually had this right, the warm water. It helps."

"Anything else?"

"Sugar. Just for the hormones."

Edmund nods, thinking. He shouts for a maid to tell the kitchen staff to make cakes. He then turns back to you and smiles proudly. Maybe he isn't as bad as you thought?

[angelacostumery]

let's make some sleeves!

don't worry i'll put it below the cut, no one should be confronted with the horrors of drafting them on their dashboard without giving prior consent.

those first few photos are of the final mockup and the final sleeves. the first mockup was more to gauge length and the final width I wanted the cuff to have, so it looked like this.

I wanted this to have a specific lantern shape with limited gathers because this fabric is thicc so I sewed a 1/2" dart at each of the marked points, taking the bottom edge in by 11" in the process.

I ended up shortening it a lot just above where the darts ended, which left me with this.

I knew it would be easier to have a single seam going horizontally than sewing a dozen darts into each one, so I was prepared for this development. I probably could have drafted something much closer to this from the start but I wouldn't want to seem too competant.

I took out a lot of volume on my next mockup and settled on something very similar to what you see above.

then they were cut out from faille, the seam was covered with 1/2" horsehair braid to give them a bit more body.

now, for the velvet layer, I didn't want a visible seam. It sort of ruins the flow of the fabric's pattern AND the fabric's pattern runs in vertical stripes which don't lend themselves well to the curves of the sleeves.

so instead I fussy cut out pieces and overlapped them until they formed the correct shape without any obvious breaks.

It was only after I got these pinned and partially sewn that I realized I forgot to add the gold overlay beneath them and had to re-do it all.

I kept trying to machine-baste together the edges and the sleeves were like "no."

the faille folded over the seam point after I finished since the overlay was like 1/4" too short in some spots, because I didn't baste all the layers together before cutting them out and sewing them together (like I usually do).

I ended up doing it by hand, all but two of the "short spots" will be hidden in seams and the others were patched with additional appliques.

I sewed the appliques to the fabric below the horizontal seam, but this created issues with the drape when I attempted to carry it further up, so the layers are independent above that seam point, save for the top edge where they are basted/eventually seamed onto the bodice..

these will be finished with matching cuffs and cotton lining.

the bottom edges were gathered from 22" down to 19" prior to the underarm seam being done up, so most of the shaping comes from the piecing, not the gathers.

(the top edge is gathered a similar amount at the armscye.)

When going to baste together the top edges I decided to shorten the lining by about an inch at the center and tapering down to nothing at the underarm. This forces the fashion layer to puff out a little bit more.

Then they were sewn on and probably some other stuff happened that I forgot. Anyway, voila!

[princessbrunette]

i want jj to try and teach me to play some horror video game but everytime i jump in his lap and unintentionally grind into him, he’s just losing interest and slowing become preoccupied with touching all up on me instead of focusing on the game

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“why is it so dark?” you giggle, guiding the character you’d picked out through the abandoned hospital. it takes jj a moment to respond, because his eyes are located on the way you’re split open on his lap— tiny booty shorts doing very little to contain the globes of your ass, the perfect outline of your pussy pressed directly to his bulge through his basketball shorts.

“uh,” he scratches his head behind his ear, forcing his eyes back onto the screen. “you can pull out a flashlight, press square.” he instructs, feeling the weight of your head drop to look down at the controller in your hands before successfully demonstrating what needed to be done on screen.

“yay!” you chirp, shifting around on his lap forcing your crotch to slightly grind against his— yet you were too focused to acknowledge it. jj on the other hand winces, playing it off as a cough as he pushes himself up a little higher, having sank down into the couch.

“uh-huh, yep — good job babe.” he congratulates, whipping his hat off for a second to run a hand through his hair. you’re locked in, wide eyes staring at the screen.

“oh god, i’m scared.” you moan as your character pushes open double doors into a dark hallway. your body tenses up in fear and he swears he can feel you clenching, the fabric of your shorts so thin that each pulse and movement can be felt through his own.

“you got it.” he drawls lazily, accepting his fate as he can’t control the boner he feels forming beneath you. he lulls his head back against the couch, once hand still placed lazily on your hip as he awaits the scolding for distracting you whilst playing the game. it doesn’t come, instead — the suspenseful silence is replaced by a loud crash on the screen and your squeal, jumping on his lap. you fidget, practically rocking back and forth on his growing bulge as you panic, slamming your fingers into buttons and nearly breaking the joystick on the damn controller to get out of there as soon as possible.

“oh my god, oh my god!” you pant, whimpering in fear sounding uncannily similar to how you do when you’re close.

“my thoughts exactly.” he strains, eyes squinted as he tries to hold you still — damn near cumming in his pants. it’s only when your character is back to safety, you crane your neck around with a proud grin at your own skills in the video game. as your senses return to you, you give a little wiggle and a frown appears on your face, doe eyes blinking at him innocently.

“uh, hey there mama.” he greets awkwardly lifting up a hand.

“are you hard, jayj?” you mewl quietly and he winces through his teeth, pushing himself to sit up a little higher and reaching between your layers to finally adjust himself in his shorts, caught out.

“look, i… promise you i wasn’t plannin’ on that happening it’s just— you sat on me and it was fine but then you started movin’ around n’stuff— and then there was the whimperin’ and my dick was like BOOM. good morning— y’know?” he gestures, scratching beneath his nose nervously. you climb off, only to restraddle him front on.

“why didn’t you tell me? would have stopped playing the game and started playing with you.” you smile sweetly, beginning to grind down on him. his jaw drops, releasing an exhale he felt liked he’d been holding forever— hands sliding up your body to touch your torso all over.

“god damn… i — uh, i’ll make a note of that. for next time.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[your-friendly-sociopath]

I've been thinking recently about a story I made a while back about yandere alastor while he was alive, and apparently ppl liked it so I've decided to make a part two of that, but it's shortly after both alastor and his darling (reader obv) are dead

Also bc alastor is hot and I need more

Part one here

His Darling Doe, Pt 2

After Alastor had "saved" you in the alleyway, he never let you leave the cabin

For the rest of your (admittedly short) life, he had forced you into the role of the meek and helpless housewife

It wasn't so bad, he was a gentleman and always made sure you had everything you could want

Except your freedom of course

The night alastor died you thought you were finally free

But nope

Turns out that when the cops found out he was the killer, they thought you were an accomplice and had you sentenced to death

One moment you were on an electric chair, the next you were falling from the sky

As you were falling you heard a loud screech, and could see the devastated look coming from a glowing creature above

It looked like an angel

The next thing you noticed was a glowing green chain dragging you down (bc the chain scene was so hrrrgh)

And the last thing you noticed was two small wings attached to your back, you watched as the once snowy white color became corrupted by black and green -the same shade of green as the chain- then you hit the ground and blacked out

Again you woke up, face smushed against the weirdly warm cement

Confused, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position, and looked around trying to make sense of your surroundings

Right as you finally pulled yourself to your feet (or hooves, since ur a deer demon cause I say so) you heard a very loud, very staticy, and very family voice

A voice you had come to both dread and love while alive

"Ah, there are my dear. I was starting to think that my spells hadn't worked!"

Your eyes widened in horror as you turned to face the man you had once loved, your now discolored wings subconsciously wrapping around you in an attempt to comfort you

"No... not you" you whispered

Alastor tilted his head in confusion

" Whatever do you mean by that, my darling doe? I'd have thought you would be absolutely ecstatic to see me!"

You scowled at him and took a step back, to which he responded by smiling wider and stepping forward

"Come now my dear, you can't really be upset still, everything I did was to keep you safe."

Your ears (you hadn't noticed you deer ears in your hair until they had just moved, surprising you) flattened in irritation as your wings flared out in anger

"You kept me locked up in that God forsaken cabin," you hissed "trapped there to be nothing more than a trophy for you."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, he had known that you didn't like being kept in the house, but he couldn't just let you out!

Anything could've happened to you, he was simply protecting you!

Alastor decided to close the distance between you two, and quickly strided over to you, pushing you against the wall he trapped you in a passionate kiss

Despite your anger, you couldn't help but melt into the kiss, having missed him despite being separated for just under a month

You two stayed like that for a few minutes, relishing in each other's presence

When you finally came back to your senses, you shoved him away and ran

Distantly, you heard a record scratch as alastor took a moment to realize what you just did

Then he snarled, his smile growing impossibly wide as he shifted into his full demon form

You rushed through crowds of demons, a few of them snarling at you and threatening you, others catcalling

Now, despite being in hell for only a few weeks, alastor had already set a reputation as demon not to fuck with

So as you rushed through the crowds with a creepy ass deer demon chasing you, many knew not to interfere

Alastor reached out a long clawed hand, just barely brushing your arm

Panicked, you glanced back and saw alastor, looking like a fucking monster

You shrieked in terror, and out of instinct, your wings opened up and launched you into the sky

You heard alastor let out an unearthly, furious scream

You let yourself hope, for a brief moment, that you had escaped

Then the same glowing chain appeared around your neck, a d yanked you back down to the ground

You crashed into the broad chest of alastor, still in his demon form, as he whispered in your ear

"A valiant effort, my darling, but you forget. You couldn't escape me while alive, so what makes you think you can escape me now.." he growled "..now that I'm so much stronger."

"You can't escape me.. you are mine~"

He chuckled lowly at your continued struggling, watching as you finally went limp in his hold when he yanked on your chain

"Come along now, pet, it's time we went home"

The hand not holding the chain snaked around your waist, bringing you flush against his body

Everything went dark for brief moment, before the both of you appeared in front of a cabin

Your cabin

The one that you now considered a prison

You ears flattened once again, this time in despair as tears started to flow

You weren't ever going to escape now

He was much to powerful for anyone to go against

Alastor buried his face in your soft hair, nhaling deeply before walking you up to the front door, slowly turning back to normal from his demon form

"Ah, welcome home, my doe~"

Hehehehehehe

Finished another

Hot deer daddy

[saltandburnheathens]

Good morning Miss Winnie.

Part II

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

You've just given birth to Dean's baby and are a enjoying a quiet family moment in the days afterwards.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

The bunker was quiet first thing in the morning except for the usual hum of the circulation fans. You’d been there so long that they barely registered anymore, and you were extremely thankful that the consistent noise wasn’t a problem for the baby. That would have been a horror show. Trying to navigate parenthood with a baby awoken by the simplest of sounds. 

You shuddered at the thought. 

Life was always loud when you lived with Dean Winchester and his posse of colour characters. Between unexpected visitors and the brothers coming and going at odd hours, there was something new every day and often that new wasn’t good. 

But in that moment things were perfect. The monsters outside didn’t exist and you were a regular mom with a new baby and a husband who loved you. His bother Sam and best friend Castiel were an added bonus, the former serving as an unexpected asset when both you and Dean needed some rest.  

You crept carefully out of bed, your body still feeling weak, and quietly crossed to the crib by the wall. A set of hazel eyes stared up at you and your heart melted. 

“Good morning Miss Winnie.” You cooed, “Let’s get you up and at ‘em before you wake daddy.” 

You heard a small scoff followed by the shuffling of blankets. 

“Winnie?” Dean asked with a sleep-laden voice, “We ain’t calling her Winnie, sweetheart. I’ll accept those new-agey-hippy-names like Kendell and Kloe with a K before I’ll take Winnie.” 

“I’m just calling her that until we choose a name.” You laughed, lifting the little girl up into your arms, her head coming to rest on your chest, “And Winnie is short for Winchester in case you hadn’t pieced that together.” 

“I don’t care if it’s short for ‘daddy’s-little-angel’, it ain’t happening.” 

“I’ll cross that off my list then shall I?” You sat back on the bed, Dean coming up to nest beside you and his eyes immediately going to the baby in your arms. 

He smiled, creases forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re not a Winnie, are ya’ princess?” In that voice he seemed to only have adapted five days ago after the birth of your daughter; that voice reserved for her. 

“Maybe not. What about Meghan?” You suggest. 

“Oh nope. No can do. Knew a Meg once. Demon.” 

You nodded knowingly. No one wanted to name their child after a monster. 

“Stevie?” Dean carried on, his eyes still fixed on the baby.

“Like Stevie Nicks?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m not seeing it. Samatha?”

“Already got one Sam in this bunker and that’s more than enough. Alice?”

“Can’t do it. All I’ll keep hearing is ‘who the fuck is Alice’, and I don’t want my kid to be subjected to that for the rest of their life.” 

You both laughed, interrupted only by the whine building in the little one’s chest. You quickly jumped to action and proceeded to the morning routine you’d been adjusting to since getting back home. Dean followed you, rubbing at his eyes. 

“I don’t think I’ve had hangovers that made me feel quite as bad as waking up five times at night.” He yawned. 

You handed him a dirty diaper and smiled as he grimaced. 

“You can go back to bed if you want. I can manage by myself.” 

“Sweetheart, you just damn near broke your pelvis giving birth to my kid a few days ago. I’m in this from start to finish, and if that means running on caffeine and a prayer, then I’m game. Even for the diapers.” 

Dean rummaged through the first drawer of their dresser and pulled out a small onesie covered in colourful dinosaurs. He held it up in front of him and smiled. 

“It’s hard to believe how small she is, huh?”

“She didn’t feel so small coming out of me.” You quipped, taking the clothing from him to finally cover the squirming child on the changer, “I’m pretty sure my vagina will never be the same.” 

“That’s blasphemy.” Dean gasped playfully, “But seriously, baby, the doctor said that it’ll take a few weeks before you start to feel normal.” 

“Normal is subjective when you’re postpartum.” 

Holding his baby tight to his chest, Dean lent down and kissed you softly on the lips. His green eyes fluttered up to meet yours. 

“Let’s face it, ain’t nothing normal about either of us in the first place.” 

[megxplryxb]

Someone to Save You

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff, slight mention of death (Billy), mention of violence (evil Russians), no use of y/n, set in Season 3.

Notes: Short fic that’s been unfinished in my drafts for far too long and I got tired of seeing it sitting there judging me.

"I guess we're gonna have to find new jobs now huh?" Robin laughs anxiously, brows raised, eyes wide as she tries her best to lighten the mood while you both sit in the back of an ambulance watching on as Hawkins finest attempt to extinguish the flames currently engulfing what remains of the Starcourt mall. It was clear the two of you were still visibly shaken up, trying to come to terms with everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours and a part of you wondered if you were still tripping from the drugs you’d been injected with earlier because there was no way you had actually fought a monster like creature from another dimension back in the food court, let alone gotten kidnapped and held hostage by an army of Russian soldiers.

The sound of sirens echoing throughout the parking lot made you wince as your head pounded in agony from the beating you’d taken at the hands of the guards during their unsuccessful interrogation of yourself and Steve. Looking down to inspect yourself, you see your Scoops uniform covered in blood and vomit, your legs and arms covered in cuts and bruises and the bottom of your lip split wide open, making you wonder how the fuck you had actually managed to make it out in one piece.

It was only supposed to be for fun, trying to translate that stupid Russian code. Something to do to pass the time during your shifts at Scoops Ahoy, a form of entertainment in between having to serve bratty children and stuck up parents their ice cream. It wasn’t meant to end up with you and Steve being beaten to a bloody pulp or with the mall burning down and it certainly wasn’t meant to end with the death of Billy Hargrove. Unfortunately, there was much more going on beneath the surface of Hawkins, Indiana than you could have ever imagined and somehow you’d managed to get yourself directly caught in the crossfire.

"Yeah, it looks like it." You eventually mutter, not really listening to your friend as she rambles on about how the government was going to cover all of this up, long zoned out, too focused on your handsome coworker to care about any cover up story.

Your eyes had been glued to Steve Harrington since the paramedics helped him to another ambulance across the lot to get checked out. Dustin Henderson was standing by his side as always, refusing to leave his friend and hero alone. His face and presumably his body were badly battered after the punishment he had taken during your time in the Russian base, trying his best to protect you and keep you safe. Steve had pleaded with the guards to let you go, promising he’d tell them everything they wanted to know once they guaranteed your safety but you refused to abandon him and in the end, you both suffered the consequences until Robin, Erica and Dustin had come to your eventual rescue.

Watching Steve get knocked unconscious had absolutely terrified you. His lifeless body unresponsive on the floor as you screamed for him to wake up, to move, to do anything just to let you know he was alive. When he finally came to, you wrapped yourself around him, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest with relief when he mumbled that he was ‘ok’, even managing to tease you for being a blubbering mess over him when you always claimed to hate him.

It was true, you did hate him back in High School. Couldn’t stand him or his shitty friends and the way they believed they were actual fucking royalty. But then you graduated, hoping to forget the trauma of Hawkins High, got a job working in Scoops Ahoy and to your utter horror, Steve Harrington was behind the counter wearing a god damn sailor outfit that didn’t even fit him right. Of course, Robin tried to tell you that things were different now, that he wasn’t the same asshole from school. His ‘King’ title long relinquished and his trust fund completely confiscated and in your eyes, it was karma and karma was a bitch. Admittedly, you were also a bitch, refusing to believe he’d actually changed his ways, giving the cold shoulder, throwing a harsh comment whenever the opportunity presented itself. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it and Steve too gave just as good as he got, annoying you on a daily basis, ruining every possible chance you had of a date when someone tried to ask you out, spilling ice cream on your uniform and just making a total nuisance of himself around you.

It’s only when his Dad arrived into the parlour one evening to collect him that you really felt sorry for Steve. His BMW had been in the garage and his Dad walked in, tossing him some clothes to change into before he left the mall, not wanting anyone to see his son “looking like an idiot”. You don’t know why seeing Steve being ridiculed and humiliated by his own Father mad you angry but it did. You could still remember the look on Steve’s face when it happened and a part of you wanted to defend him, to pull him into you and hug him but that would have been weird back then. So you decided to give him a break after that night, finally getting to know him after a longer than usual shift, both of you stuck cleaning up after a birthday party and you realised Robin was right. He had changed. He was kind and sweet and somehow he had six kids who absolutely adored him and the longer you were around him, you couldn’t help but start to adore him too.

“It’s okay to admit that you care about him, y’know?” Robin whispers, nudging your shoulder, shaking you from your thoughts of Steve. “Dingus is a good guy and it’s pretty obvious he cares a lot about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Robin.” You laugh dismissively, trying to avoid the conversation completely because maybe you weren’t fully ready to admit your feelings to yourself yet.

“Oh please! You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re totally into each other.” She states but you shake your head defensively, hoping it was too dark for her to see the tints of pink on your cheeks.

“No, it’s not like that. I mean, Steve could barely stand to be around me a couple of weeks ago. There’s no way he has actual feelings for me.” You assert but it does little to dissuade Robin who’s had a front row seat to your constant bickering over the last couple of months and while it seemed like you both truly despised each other at the beginning, it became clear to her that you and Steve were hiding behind your real feelings and the last few days only made it all the more obvious.

“Come on, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he gets totally jealous every time Jason Carver comes in to flirt with you. He tries to act like he doesn’t care but his face gives him away every time. Not to mention how happy he was when you fell asleep on his shoulder in that damn elevator, poor guy couldn’t stop gazing at you.” She chuckles as Erica walks towards you both.

“You’re talking about Harrington right? Dustin said he’s totally in love with you and since I’ve spent the last twenty four hours stuck with your insane asses, I’m inclined to agree with him.” The younger Sinclair smirks, folding her arms. You try your best to ignore them both, reverting your gaze back towards the direction of Steve who’s already looking right at you. Dustin is pointing your way, speaking passionately and although you can’t hear what he’s saying, you assume it’s about you because Steve quickly slaps his hand away before rolling his eyes at the younger boy.

“See?” Robin nudges you again. “He keeps looking over here. Just go talk to him, please? Put us all out of our misery.” She begs, giving you puppy dog eyes as Erica whistles at Dustin to call him over, giving him a small thumbs up as he grins widely and starts to make his way over.

“Why do I feel like I’ve just been set up?” You grit your teeth, glaring at your friends.

“Maybe because you have been.” Robin smiles sweetly, shoving you forward as you begin to walk towards Steve. Your stomach twists as you get closer to the boy, hoping you don’t look as anxious as you feel. If everyone else could tell you had feelings for him, wasn’t it likely he knew too?

“If you came over here to tell me I look like shit, you're too late, Henderson already beat you to it.” Steve jokes, looking at you through his one good eye, the other badly swollen as he holds an ice pack to his face, wincing a little from the cool contact.

“Relax Harrington, you’re still annoyingly pretty. I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.” You say, taking a seat beside him on the edge of the ambulance as he scoots over for you. "Besides, it’s not like I can talk right now, I'm sure I don’t look much better.” You sigh as he scans the injuries on your face, hating himself for getting you caught up in all of this mess.

“Nah, don’t worry. You’re still beautiful .” He smirks, his bruised face still achingly gorgeous in the night sky as you both lock eyes, sitting in silence for a moment before you finally remember to breathe.

Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington had just called you beautiful. You— the girl he once claimed to hate. The girl that used to drive him utterly insane in High School. Shit, in the few short months you’ve worked in Scoops Ahoy with Steve, you’ve heard him use many terms when talking about other girls, ‘hot’ ‘cute’ ‘pretty’ but he’d never used the word beautiful. Did he really think you were beautiful?

“I think you’re still high, Steve.” You blush, placing a strand of hair behind your ear as he shakes his head.

“No. For the first time in a while, I think I’m seeing things pretty clearly actually.” He affirms, too confidently for a guy who looks like he’s just gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali.

“I’m not sure how that’s possible when you can’t see out of one eye right now but okay.” You giggle and he laughs with you.

“Come on, you know what I mean.” He playfully bumps your shoulder to grab your focus. His caramel eyes moving to your lips before looking back at you again and suddenly there’s a familiar tension in the air between you that you’ve refused to acknowledge before.

“Do I?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you take the ice pack from him, holding it to the side of his face soothingly.

“God I hope so.” He breathes out, lifting his hand to cover yours. You can sense that he’s nervous and you almost want to laugh at how insane this all seems. The thought of Steve Harrington being nervous because of you would have been comical a couple of months ago but here you are, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you stupid.

“I’m really fucking sorry for getting you guys mixed up in all of this.” He mutters, a guilty look across his face as he lowers his head.

“Hey, no. None of this is your fault Steve. Nobody could have known what was going to happen.” You try to comfort him but he can’t help feel slightly responsible.

“No, I should have known the reason those Russian’s came to Hawkins. I should have known that thing was back. God I’m so stupid!” He spits with anger in his voice, throwing his head back.

“You’re not stupid Steve.” You say softly, gently placing your hand on his thigh.

“Come on honey, you can say it, s’not like I don’t already know.” He half laughs and you hate that he thinks of himself that way, that he thinks you think of him that way.

“I don’t think that Steve, I never thought that. An asshole? Yes. Selfish? Hell yes. But not stupid, never stupid and after actually getting to know you—the real you and not the person you pretended to be in High School, I can safely say I was wrong about who I thought you were.” You admit, finally finding the courage to reach for his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Oh yeah? What changed your mind hmm?” He asks, grinning as he turns his body fully towards you, rubbing his thumb over the delicate skin of your knuckles.

“I’m not sure really, maybe seeing how good of a babysitter you are, how protective you are of all your kids. That might have had a little something to do with it.” You tease as he chuckles with you. “Only a little huh?”

“Well, it might also have something to do with you saving my life. Trying to sacrifice yourself so they’d let me go. That was really brave Steve.” You whisper, trying to stop yourself from getting choked up.

“And it was really stupid of you to refuse.” Steve replies, immediately wiping away the tear he can see trailing down your cheek.

“Hey, if we go down, then we go down together. That’s the Scoops Ahoy! policy remember?” You remind him as he shakes his head at you, cupping your face, caressing the apples of your cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d have done if something bad happened to you. Every time they touched you, every time they even looked at you— god I wanted to fucking kill them.”

“Careful Harrington, it almost sounds like you care about me.” You breathe out, hypnotised by his full pink lips as you realise they’re inching incredibly closer to yours.

“Shit honey, what gave it away?” He smirks at you, finally closing the space between you as his lips gently meet yours in a warm embrace. You can hear the wolf whistles from across the lot, both of you laughing into the kiss as your friends cheer you on and you can’t help feel like a kid playing spin the bottle for the first time.

You eventually break apart when the medic coughs awkwardly, mortified that he’s had to stumble across a make out session as you both try your best to hide your embarrassment, your cheeks flushing bright red.

“Alright Mr Harrington, from what I can see, it looks like you’ve got a bit of a concussion there. I know you mentioned your parents are currently out of town so I think it might be best if we keep you in overnight at the hospital tonight.” The man says as you watch Steve sigh heavily.

“I’m sure I’ll be ok by myself, I’m not really the biggest fan of hospitals sir.” He admits, swallowing hard and you can’t help but be mad at his parents for once again being absent when he needed them.

“I’m really not comfortable with you being alone tonight Mr Harrington, I’d rather you come—“

“He won’t be alone. He can come stay with me, I’ll look after him.” You interrupt, taking Steve’s hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. His head turns to you immediately, eyes glossy and mouth open in awe of your kindness, he feels like his heart is going to explode.

“Are, are you sure?” He mumbles, blushing as you kiss him on the cheek.

“Of course I’m sure, I owe you for saving my life. Maybe it’s time, you let someone save you.”

[pinkslipxox]

My Girl:

Summary: You get hit on and Billie gets protective

Warnings: mostly fluff, protective Billie 🙈🤗

——————————————————————————

Billie’s arm around your waist tightens as the two of you enter the club. The multi-colored strobe lights blink in sync to the music blaring from large speakers, it’s bass throbbing throughout your body, the adrenaline infectious. The air is thick with mingling scents of liquor, weed, and expensive perfume, and it makes you scrunch up your nose. Scenes like these aren’t really your thing, but tonight you made an exception for your girlfriend’s brother, Finneas, since it’s his birthday. On the way to the club, Billie vows that should you ever feel uncomfortable, tired, or just want to leave, that the two of you will leave immediately, no questions asked.

The two of you greet Finneas and his invitees with hugs and friendly smiles. After greeting everybody, you all move to the dance floor. You dance with Billie, of course, her hands on your hips as the two of you begin to be carried away by the music. A few songs in, and you’re parched. You tell Billie, and she nods, leading you out of the dance floor to a more open space in the club.

“Do you want anything else to drink, babe?” Billie asks loudly enough in your ear so you can hear.

“No, thank you!” you reply with a smile and Billie kisses your forehead.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move, okay?” she says and you give her a thumbs up.

You stay put, slowly moving your hips to the music, as you watch everyone on the dance floor. Hands in the air, bodies grinding, music blasting. You’re so caught up in your own little world that you don’t even notice a guy approaching you. He asks you to dance but you politely decline.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he slurs, obviously intoxicated. He has long, dark greasy hair and he shamelessly looks up and down your body with red, bloodshot eyes. He’s wearing a red short sleeve printed shirt with baggy jeans that look like they haven’t been washed in years. The fact that he is inches away from you makes you anxious, and you can even smell his disgusting breath.

You don’t answer him.

Where is Billie?

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” he nearly growls. The guy wraps his fingers around your arm, sending a cold shiver down your spine and you’re quick to jerk it away from him.

“Don’t touch me!” you warn him in a firm voice, praying that Billie or Finneas or anyone sober enough comes in time to save you.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He gives you a yellow-toothed smile. His tone is sweet, yet his eyes tell an entirely different story. “How about we get to know each other better?”

“I’m with someone,” you try and keep your voice firm and steady. Your heart begins to pound against your chest. And just as you’re about to turn around, you’re grabbed by the wrist and roughly pulled back towards the guy.

“I don’t see anyone around,” the creep smirks, and your widen in horror.

“Let me go!” you shout, trying your best to break away from his iron-like grip. Without thinking, your hand flies up and slaps him across his face, and for a moment he lets go of your wrist but quickly grabs it again before you can run. A red hand print almost instantly forms at the spot you hit him, and his eyes flash with anger.

“You bitch!“ he roars and raises his hand in the air. You flinch, bracing for the pain to come, but it never does. You open your eyes and see Billie with her hand wrapped around the one that was to be used to hit you.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Billie snarls, anger evident in her tone. She stands protectively in front of you, and you instantly feel safe.

“Sorry, who the fuck are you?” the guy asks in a mocking tone, and just before Billie can say anything, Finneas comes out of nowhere and pushes the guy away from the two of you.

“Fuck off! What’s your problem?” Finneas snarls as Billie takes you away from the scene. Her hold on your hand is tight and protective as you two step outside. The fresh, cool air surrounds you, and Billie gives you her undivided attention with the most tender, worried look on her face.

“Oh, my God, sweetheart, are you okay?” she asks, her tone sweet and gentle as she examines you, her eyes desperately searching into yours.

“I’m fine. I promise,” you reassure her softly as you take shaky breaths.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Billie murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Let’s go home, yeah? We can order pizza and watch whatever you want.”

“But Finneas—“ you protest but Billie quickly cuts you off.

“He’ll understand. Don’t worry, okay? I wasn’t even having fun away,” she says and you nod slowly.

“Thank you, Billie,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. You want to say more but at the moment the words don’t come out. Yet you know that Billie understands what you’re saying.

“Nobody touches my girl,” Billie murmurs lovingly, protectively. She then leans in and kisses your forehead again, letting her lips linger there for a moment before holding your hand tightly in hers as she leads you to her car.

Feeling safe and loved as ever.

[cozage]

Hi is it ok if you do a short fic of Luffys reaction to his s/o being the last one to be sent away by Kuma please

A/N: Just a lil thing to get back into it :) Characters: luffy x gn reader Cw: none, just some angst Total word count: 400

Where to Go

All of them had disappeared before your eyes. One by one. All you could do was watch in horror, too much of a coward to even move and fight.

You could hear Luffy screaming in the distance, but all you could focus on was the echoing sound of footsteps as Kuma approached you. You slumped to the ground, your knees hitting the soft, mossy earth beneath you. You wondered if this feeling would be the last thing you would ever experience before you were winked out of existence. 

You couldn’t look up. You couldn’t meet Kuma’s eyes as he stopped in front of you. You could feel your body trembling, even as you tried your hardest to control it. 

“Please,” you whimpered to the man standing in front of you. “Please don’t-”

“Where do you want to go?” Kuma asked softly. 

“Run!” Luffy bellowed, racing toward you. “Please run, Y/N! Get away!”

You could feel Kuma’s attention shift to your captain, and you could feel a pit forming in your stomach. You knew he was trying to keep Kuma’s attention for you to get away, but you couldn’t will your legs to move. 

“Go!” Luffy screamed again, still running as fast as he could. 

But you could feel Kuma look back to you. “Where do you want to go?” he asked again, flipping open his book. 

Luffy was still screaming. The pain and desperation was written all over his face. It gutted you to see him in such agony. 

He wouldn’t make it. You were going to disappear, just like everyone else. And he would be alone again. 

“Somewhere warm and sunny.” A tear slid down your cheek. “Not too humid. It messes with my hair.”

Luffy roared again, stretching out his arm to try and grab you. But he was too far, and Kuma’s hand was almost on you. 

“I’ll find you again,” you promised him, taking a breath to steady yourself. “I will always find you.”

“No!” His scream was pure anguish. You could see tears in his eyes. His hand was so close, you could almost reach out and grab it. “You can’t go! I nee-”

And then there was only white, only the sound of Luffy’s sobs echoing in your ears. And eventually, that too faded into nothing but the wind as you were carried far away from him.

[starhvney]

can you do an angsty laurance mcd (romantically) where reader has been waiting for his return and they reunite after he was stuck in the neither?

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mcd laurance x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: he can’t stay with you as long as the war underground calls to him. to stay with you he has to leave, not returning until three years later. 

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: angst, lots of resent and crying, but then hurt/comfort, malachi is reader’s adopted son with laurance cause i said so

𝐂𝐖: none?

𝐀/𝐍: omg the past two weeks have been so busy i actually thought i might have gone insane if i didn’t have this day off to write this. but i'm back from the dead(work) anyways this prompt has actually been in my mind a lot so thank you for the request! hope it hurts

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“please come back with me. you don’t have to do this.”

your chest hurt. whether it was from the man in front of you or the unbearable heat, you weren’t sure, but you found yourself choking on the air, lungs constricting and heart rushing cold blood uncomfortably fast through your veins. 

you could tell he was angry that you came here. not at you. no, never at you. but the fact you came alone and risked your safety for him again had him nearly spiraling, his jaw clenched and hands gripping uncomfortably tight against your arms.

it was still him, you reminded yourself, as you pleadingly looked up to the pools of blood red that pierced through you. it was an unsettling shade, the color startling against his face yet somehow dull and dark at the same time. it was so different from the steel blue before it, and the beautiful green before that. 

yes, you’d seen him in many different ways, and though he was naturally taller, and the air around him sent an anxious wave down your spine, it was still him.

the same olive skin and caramel hair, though a duller shade.

the same shape of his face.

the same determination in his eyes. 

the same urge to protect you, no matter how much this new form of his ached to do the opposite. 

“i told you not to follow me. you shouldn’t be here—”

“i couldn’t just let you leave!”

he sucks in a breath, your name leaving his lips with a sense of urgency and irritation.

“…i can’t go with you. you know i can’t.” his voice is tight, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your eyes glossing over. “it would be selfish. i put you at risk just by being next to you.”

you start to shake your head, but swallow down your next words at the way he says your name again, desperate for you to understand. 

“he’s in my head when you’re near me. i can’t keep you safe when it’s just us, because it isn’t just us. that calling clouds my mind and—he almost got to me, and you know it. i almost killed you.”

you’re silenced by this, knowing he was right. the horror on his face when he realized his blade was raised against you had set forward the timeline that got him here. he’d forever feel chained to this place unless he broke the chains himself.

“if i ever want to have a future with you, i have to do this. don’t you understand? until this war is over you have to stay away.”

“no…” you shake your head, tears beginning to spill from your lashes.

it was out of your control. the salty crystalline that slipped down your face. it was the same as the man in front of you, each second left with him like trying to hold water in your hands, continuing to slip through your fingers no matter how tightly you tried to grasp it. 

his eyes close, face pained, looking like someone was about to end his second life right there where he stood. 

“i love you. i always will. you have to know i’m doing this for you.”

he dips down, lips crashing into yours with a desperation that you couldn’t put into words. it’s not enough, too short-lived as his hands suddenly grip your waist, manhandling you up as he carries you to the portal.

“no, no! laurance, put me down! you have to come with me!” tears have turned into hysteria, your fists pushing and beating against him to no avail.

“i’m doing this for you.” his voice wavers shakily, contradicting his firm hold and long strides. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m hurting you again and i’m so sorry.”

“stop! i won’t go through that portal unless i know you’re coming with me.”

your name leaves his lips once more, pleading and desperate for you to understand. “i’ll return to you. i swear i will.”

his arms tighten around you, face shifting to rest in the crook of your neck and lips pressing against the skin for just a moment. you think he could’ve changed his mind, but the next second your feet are back on the ground, and his hands are gently pushing you through the portal in your disorientation.

you stumble through, cool air meeting your back as the nether fades from your vision and is replaced by the overworld. your feet trip over the other as you try to catch your step, falling back and turning to look back at the portal through your hazy vision. before you can scramble back the purple mist solidifies, shattering and collapsing to the floor into crystallized pieces.

you started in shock for who knows how long, curled on the stone beneath you as sobs wracked your whole body.

you don’t remember the trip back to phoenix drop after that. you only recall the horrid feeling that your heart had just been torn from your body, left behind in the fiery hell it’s owner had condemned himself to. 

that emptiness never evaded you either. you went through day-to-day life completing your duties as normal. but at night when you were left with your thoughts, your mind wandered to him. the space in your bed felt bitterly cold, almost as if the emptiness was taunting you of the lack of his presence.

the boy the two of you had taken in as your own all that time ago was extra sweet on you, despite all the time you had missed with him. when you returned that night he had looked at you expectantly, only for his green eyes to fade in hope as he saw your puffy eyes and grieved expression.

soon a whole year had passed. then another. then another. it was what you had presumed to be another ordinary day, as you prepared a lunch for you and malachi to share on his break. you recognize his footsteps, but when you turn to greet him you’re met with a concerned expression and heavy pants from the boy.

“he’s back.”

you hate how you immediately knew what he meant, even after all this time. how your heart swelled tightly in your chest and rushed the adrenaline into your veins. 

you can only stare blankly at the boy in the doorway, mouth open in shock and mind scrambling for some sort of reaction to give. he turns to look at something approaching him from out of sight, a protective frown forming on his face.

“mom, do you want to see him? you have to tell me now.”

a small part of you wants to say no, to resentfully send that man away for the loneliness he left you with. your head is nodding before your thoughts can resist, following the desperate tug in your chest rather than your brain screaming for the opposite.

your breath hitches when the taller man who had been haunting your mind for so long steps into view. you wonder if maybe you had fallen ill and this is all just a fever dream, but you know it’s not a hallucination or a memory as you take in his appearance. 

he looks like a man returning from war, circles under his eyes darker than they had been all those years ago. new scars are littered across the skin that you could see, and his posture was that of extreme exhaustion.

him and your son stare at each other for a moment in the doorway, a silent and sort of awkward moment that you couldn’t decipher being exchanged. malachi gives you one last wary glance, before disappearing from your sight and leaving the two of you alone.

you want to scream at him, hit him, something. but you can only focus on the lump building in your throat, choking your airways as a painful sob threatens to break out from your chest.

he takes a step forward, then another. then another. soon he’s right in front of you, not in the haze of your dreams but tangible and real. 

his hand, rough and scarred, lifts up to cup your soft cheek, fingers trembling as if you had sent a shock through them just by the contact. your name shakily leaves his lips, and you finally look up to his face.

you’re greeted with steel blue, glazed over with pain and guilt. something about them is much more hardened than when you saw him last, yet he still manages to look at you tenderly, full of a deep devotion he could never get rid of even through his years spent in hell.

his thumb brushes away the damp streaks from under your eyes, and you finally realize you had begun to cry. you had thought about this moment many times. how you’d call him a bastard for leaving you alone and kick him out to get a taste of his own medicine. or maybe you’d tell him all about the loneliness he’d put you through, watching his face drop with guilt.

instead of using any of the dialogue you had prepared in your moments of spite, you can only utter a few words, voice choked on your tears. 

“is it over?”

he nods, eyebrows furrowing together and lip curling as if your voice had caused him physical pain after years of deprivation from the sound.

you collapse forward into his arms, years of raw emotion crashing down on you all at once as you begin to sob.

“it’s over. if you let me in i’ll never leave again.” his hushed voice speaks into your hair, the deep and roughened tone vibrating through his chest. “but if you want nothing to do with me anymore you only have to say the word and i will obey.”

you can only shake your head, chest heaving as you grip the linen shirt he wore and attempt to steady yourself on your feet. there’s not much need for your efforts though, when he picks you up into a tight embrace, holding you to him as he trembles at the feeling of your body once again pressing into his. 

“i’ll never leave you again. i’m so sorry. my light in the darkness. please forgive me.”

he carries you to the nearest chair, fingers running through your hair like they were delicate strands of gold and continuing to hold you to him like you were the only thing worth any value in this life. as you continued to cry you felt tears that were not your own drip onto your skin, the shaky breaths and hitches in his chest proving you weren’t just imagining things as he too wept into the crook of your neck.

you two stay there for a long time, until the afternoon sun faded to a dim evening light, casting a warm haze into the room. it’s not until then that you feel composed, lifting yourself from where you had limply collapsed into his arms.

his hands gently hold your face, rubbing away the leftover tears and puffiness from your eyes. his own eyelids were red, eyes glossy. now that you’re looking at him you can see just how much his time away had changed him. 

his once lovely olive skin had sallowed into a paler shade, leaving him sickly looking. his cheeks were thinner, and the lack of body fat wasn’t just on his face. he remained muscular, yet he somehow looked malnourished at the same time, his scarred skin stretching over his bones and muscles in a way that didn’t look healthy.

your fingers trail along healed over cuts that hadn’t been there before, gulping down the urge to cry again. how many times did he have to patch himself up, suffering in pain while fighting to get back to you?

“hey.” he gently pinches your cheek in his hand, noticing your eyes unfocus as your mind wanders. 

you look up to him, taking in a shaky breath as you reach up to cup his jaw in your hand. immediately he leans into it, a deep sigh leaving his nose as he practically deflates at your touch.

“when did you get back…?”

he sighs, looking up at you through his lashes.

“i came here as soon as i came back through the portal… malachi was on patrol and spotted me at the gates.” his eyes grow distant. “he was… pretty angry with me. looked like he wanted to kill me as soon as i walked in the village.”

he chuckles dryly, looking at the wall behind you. “he cussed me out pretty good before leading me here. he had some good reasons for doing so, too…" he takes in a shaky breath. "i’m proud of him. i’m relieved to know he was watching over you when i wasn’t. that kid’s grown up to be a good man.”

“he is.” you agree, voice quiet in the moment, unable to come up with any words.

his hand drifts to brush your hair behind your ear, fingers trailing to brush along your jaw. “you have plenty of reasons to hate me, too.”

“he doesn’t hate you.” you quickly say. “and i don’t either.”

“i was scared you would. sure you would.”

your eyes drift from the guilty pull of his brow and the pain in his eyes, down to the slope of his nose and the curve of his mouth.

“i couldn’t.” you whisper, before leaning down and connecting your lips with his.

he wraps his arms tighter around you, breath stuttering as he returns the affection. very quickly it evolves to you being left breathless as he practically devours you, kissing you like a man who had been starved of his lover's touch for three years.

reluctantly he pulls away, gritting his teeth as he once again finds himself reigning his self control in with you. he doesn’t go too far though, his huffs of air meeting your lips as he whispers.

“it’s late. i should go.”

“go where?”

“just the inn down the road—”

“no. stay here tonight.”

he stares at you before closing his eyes, a low groan leaving his throat. “are you sure?”

“yes.” you quickly respond, hands cupping his face.

he gulps, before pulling you tightly to himself and lifting you in his arms, carrying you to your bedroom.

“okay. i’ll stay.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[forcemeanakin]

𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮

•WARNINGS: Semi-smut. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this). Dirty talk, teasing in a public space, voyeurism, make out session. Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage. 

Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.

Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.

Part Two Summary: After your little moment with Mr. Skywalker last night, you’re determined to persuade your father-in-law into fucking you. Right on the dinner table with everyone else around. Including your boyfriend. 

Word count: 3.5K.

Link to Part One

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao. 

I’m super excited to announce that I’m very motivated to continue the journey of this pairing, so I’ll be turning FYBD into a series! :) but please be patient! I don’t usually deliver short fics, that’s why it takes me so long to post ! (also look at me trying to polish my themes, omg who am I?)

NEXT PART WILL BE PUBLISHED ON SATURDAY !!!! <3 Consider this as a Part 2.1. If you wanna be tag on it, leave me a comment below :)

“Alright, everyone gather at the table! Dinner 's ready!” Padmé yelled, placing the last set of plates while Leia dropped the center piece. 

“Sugar, you look like a million bucks.” Luke complimented your outfit while you finished up accessorizing, hiding your eye roll by clipping your earrings. 

Last night, you eventually made it to bed with him, feeling uneasy the rest of the night. You gave Luke your back, refusing to cuddle or respond to his arms wrapped around your waist. Tossing and turning, every time you shut down you dreamed about Anakin and his lustful orbs. And, unlike someone with common sense, you didn’t feel guilt from your forbidden target. No, it riled you up even more. 

Being spooned by your boyfriend while thinking about his dad. 

The naughtiness of it was a thrill you didn’t want to stop chasing.

“Is that dress new?” From the moment you woke up to this very instant, Luke hadn’t stopped apologizing and drowning you in compliments and demonstrations of affection.

Yet you still hadn’t responded to him with the same tenderness, prolonging your fight. The reality was that you had already forgotten all about the “slut” bomb, but staying angry at him somehow justified daydreaming about fucking Anakin. 

“Thank you.” You replied coldly, checking yourself one last time in the mirror, turning around to make sure the back side wasn’t wrinkled.

You had chosen the tight, long, black dress even before making it your personal mission to seduce your boyfriend’s dad. You were now thanking Y/n from the past for packing something so flattering and form fitting to this particular event. It’s not like you were out of place, everyone was dressing up as well. 

“Guys! I’m not calling you again!” Padmé rushed. 

“Y/n I don’t want us to keep fighting… Not this weekend, please?” Luke caught your attention by trapping your hands inside his palms. “I’ll do better. Be more adventurous for you…” He murmured, caressing your arms with tenderness. Arching an eyebrow at your cleavage, “Maybe make it up to you tonight?”

Disappointment settled in your chest at the prospect of not spending the night with Anakin.

“Sure.” You faked a smile. “I’d like that.”

“Great.” He kissed your cheek, missing your horrorized face. “Now, after you, m’lady.” He exaggerated a bow for you to walk in front of him.

You snorted, “You’re such a dork.”

Luke escorted you to the table, pulling your chair to sit right in the middle of him and the empty head of the table. Right in front of you was Padmé, with a gorgeous light blue gown and beside her was Leia, who was trying to sit down Han at the other head of the table.

“I don’t want to sit right in front of your dad!” He whispered-yelled, being harshly pushed by his girlfriend to sit his ass down. To be such a tiny person, she sure was strong.

“Try to bond!” She whispered back, fanning herself so the sweat wouldn’t ruin her makeup.

“I'll get food poisoning” He huffed, crossing his arms in a childish manner. “And he’ll puke in my face.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, accepting Padmé’s offering of a glass of wine while observing Han’s pout.

“Easy for you to laugh, newbie.” He scoffed with his usual feistiness. “Could you please do something despicable so he hates you instead of me?”

Oh, you sure had done something to scare him off. 

After he practically ran away from you at full speed, you hadn’t seen him all day. Leia and Han adopted you the whole morning, taking you to pick up some stuff for dinner and showing you around the area. Luke joined in at lunch time, after dealing with a way-too-long call from his friend Din. And even when you came back to the house, Anakin was secluded in his little cave, his personal workshop, in the back of the house and hadn’t showed up at all. 

“Y/n, love that dress, you’ll have to lend it to me.” Leia complimented mid sip.

“Manners, Leia.” Padmé scolded her, head moving in disapproval as she set her napkin on her lap.

“You can borrow it whenever you want.” You winked at the short girl, earning a heartfelt smile. 

“It’s perfect for my funeral.” Han dramatically threw himself on the backrest.

“Han, I can’t think of something I could do that would make him dislike me more than you.” You joked, cracking a breadstick. 

Yes, you could.

“Maybe you could kick R2. At least that’s what Han did.” Luke snorted, Han’s head snapping to send daggers to the blonde. 

“I didn’t kick R2!” Han raised his voice while wincing. 

“Yeah, you did.” Leia murmured under her breath. 

“I accidentally fell on him!  How was I supposed to know that he was behind me?” Han freaked out, dramatizing the scenery. “Oh, who am I trying to convince? You already made up your mind about it.” He dismissed the potential debate, shooting the rest of his beer. 

“Han, you’re overreacting, he doesn’t hate you.” Padmé reassured him with a soft smile. “That much.” She said under her breath. 

“How bad could dad actually be?” Luke rolled his eyes, picking one of the entreés to stuff into his mouth in one bite.

You googled him while you were supposed to be showering: the “Hero with No Fear” had enough battles, manslaughtering and war crimes under his belt for Han’s panic to have grounds, your deep investigation showed.

“Ha! You haven’t endured his bullying for two years.” Han crossed his foot over his knee. 

“And counting.” The voice that had you clenching around nothing boomed through the air, his figure appearing just when Han was about to eat a piece of breadstick, immediately choking. “Good, now I don’t have to do it myself…” Anakin muttered under his breath.

Anakin’s eyes widened when he distinguished that the seat reserved for him was right by your side. His usual seat was always at the head of the table, but having you at arm's reach was exceptionally dangerous after the occurrences of last night. It felt like all his hard work of avoiding you all day was just thrown into the trash with a single sweep. He convinced himself that he had to push through dinner, eating faster than usual and quickly returning to his workshop and wait until everybody left the dining room, so he could safely seek refuge in his bedroom.

Nonetheless, faith had a different path for him. One of painful blue balls and heavy sweating. 

Why did you have to wear that dress? Was it indeed appropriate for a family dinner or was it just him thinking too much of it with the head inside his pants?

And why were you smirking at him like he was the meal you were about to devour?

“Anakin, good, you’re here. Let’s say grace so we can properly start eating.” Padmé announced, glaring at her son that was currently on his third appetizer.

Padmé thanked the Maker for having the whole family here, making special emphasis on being grateful for you this year, the new member of the family. You popped an eye open, and voilá, Anakin was staring at you while her wife praised you to the rest of the table. Separating your palms from praying position, you dropped one on top of his, careful not to make a single noise. You drew random figures inside his palms with your nail, biting your lip as you checked him out. If his handsome face wasn’t enough already, he was wearing a full suit, black tie on top of a white buttoned up. 

Perfect to rip apart.

“And please bless this delicious meal that it’s about to feed us… Amen.” Right before she could pronunciate that final word, Anakin had slapped your hand away. “Alright, let’s dig in! Ani, honey, could you do the honors and carve the turkey?”

Whatever that would keep him away from temptation. 

Getting up, Anakin picked up the utensils, turning the turkey around to cut into it. Doing the proper round, he asked every single person their meat preferences before making the incision, starting with his wife. Anakin quickly ruled that him with knives and using his strength to lash a large piece of meat wasn’t the best evasive mechanism when he spotted you drooling over his flexed bicep. 

“Dad, I want a leg.” Leia requested, passing up her plate to him.

“Sure, darling.” Anakin propped the leg on her plate carefully. “Good choice.”

“I want one too, please.”  Han put his plate up in his direction.

Anakin glared and huffed, but eventually dumped the requested piece on Han’s dish. “Fucking child…”

Giving up, Han dropped on his chair, violently biting the leg. After Luke picked white meat, Anakin had no other choice but to pay attention to you. 

“Y/n-” He cleared his throat, ignoring your subtle attempt to press your cleavage against the table so your tits would pop into his vision. “How do you like your meat?”

Anakin regretted that question the second he formulated it. Although, he was appreciative that the brawl between the twins deprived everyone else from your answer. 

You offered your plate to him, wide doe eyes as your foot grazed his shin. “I like my meat tender.” Your velvety voice sent an electric wave directly to his groin.

The rest of the dinner was no better. 

Playing footsie, curling your hair with your finger, glancing at him longer than necessary, more lascivious than necessary. There was this particular moment that still had his mind-blown: You, leaned over to Luke to whisper something in his ear, gaining a laugh from him in complicity and sealing the adorable scene with a quick peck, all while your sandal made its way up to an escalating boner inside Anakin’s underpants. 

“Pass the salt, please.” Anakin requested out loud, clearing his throat, seeking a distraction.

But you were fast as a bolt. 

“There you go, sir.” Flashbacks from your face all flustered calling him that kicked in, the salt shaker falling from his hand at his nervousness and the contact of your hand. 

“Y/n, question.” Leia broke through the madness of noises. 

“Of course, shoot.” Anakin was amazed at your ability to smile like nothing was happening underneath the table, like you weren’t trying to touch his thigh underneath the table cloth with the hand that wasn’t supporting your chin. 

“What’s your major? I think I haven’t asked you that yet.” Leia swallowed a spoonful of sweet potato casserole. 

“I’m a psych major.” You drank a bit of your wine. 

“Oh, that solves the mystery. You’re dating Luke as an experiment, aren’t you?” Leia mocked, earning a kick from her brother. “Auch, laser brain!”

“Leia!” Padmé scolded her. 

“My God, have you been psychoanalyzing us this whole time?” Han stopped chewing his biscuit as he stared deep into your soul. “How bad is it?” He was dead serious.

“Oh my- No! No! I haven’t, I promise.” You totally had.

“Could you please prescribe something to mom so she relaxes once in a while?” Leia begged. “Or give her a session, whatever works.”

“Bet you are thrilled to hear Y/n is a psychologist, huh, sir? Know how much you love shrinks, Mr. Skywalker.” Han’s sarcasm revealed -in a very obvious way- how much Anakin did not like your profession. 

“Still better than being a smuggler.” Anakin bit down on a piece of meat with venom directly right at Han. 

“Oh, dad!” Luke exclaimed. “You should do dad!”

You grinned at the way Anakin almost spit his drink. 

“I’m so open to that, sir.” You turned to meet the former Jedi’s face and smirked with mischief at Anakin’s knuckles turning white on his grip on the chair. 

“Do you do the little shrink couch thing?” Han wondered with his mouth full. 

“I mean, if the patient wants to lay down while I do all the work, that’s fine by me.” You laughed innocently, batting your eyelashes to Anakin the second everyone got distracted trying to guess what you would diagnosed Han with.

Sensing Anakin’s heavy breathing, you did the whole charade of dropping your fork onto the floor, obliged to pick it up. As much as Anakin tried to nervously hide the bulge in his pants, you confirmed that your little game was in fact working. You sat back on your chair with a victorious snicker.

“Oh, c’mon dad! Let Y/n work her magic on you! You bottle so much stuff, it’s good to let them out.” Leia reasoned, completely missing the panicked face of the woman that gave birth to her.

“Suddenly, I’m full.” Anakin announced, cleaning the sauce off the edges of his mouth and tossed the napkin to his plate, getting ready to leave.

“You can’t go, we haven’t had dessert yet.” Padmé frowned, signaling with a harsh glare to sit back down. 

“Why don’t Luke and I take care of that?” You stood up, picking up the empty plates around. 

“Oh, no, sweetie, you’re a guest-” 

“No problem at all! Please let me take care of you.” The fact that you said that while collecting Anakin’s plate was a true coincidence. 

“Only if you let Han and I wash the dishes!” Leia negotiated, following her mother’s welcoming values.

“Shut up, I bet they were going to do it anyway.” Han grunted with gritted teeth. 

“We’ll be back with dessert.” You declared, dividing the tower of plates and walking to the kitchen with your boyfriend. 

While Luke threw away the leftovers, you came back to scoop up the rest of the plates with the side dishes and so. You surveyed everyone about their dessert preferences, until you reached a spot next to Anakin. 

“Padmé, back me up here! Wouldn’t it be cool if we save money on rent and live in the Falcon?” Han upped his voice to match Leia’s.

“I'm not living on a ship that’s falling apart, Han!”

“It would be an adventure every day!”

Sliding by Anakin’s side to hoist up the gravy bowl, you briefly grazed his shoulder with your chest, excusing the lame contact by your need to stretch for the dish. While you were leaned over him, the low-cut of your dress exposed to his delight, you turned your head and asked him:

“Would you like dessert, sir?” No one would figure that your question had any double meaning, but Anakin knew the filthy desires your eyes hid. 

“Not for me, thanks.” He smiled curtly, doing a superhuman effort not to fall into the teasing of your playful peaks behind the tight fabric. 

“Are you sure, Mr. Skywalker? The pie’s so soft and warm, very creamy. Baked it myself.” Anakin visibly shuddered, inhaling sharply as he closed his eyes while gripping the armrest. 

You grinned, thanking your hair for covering your expressions to the rest of the family so you could bite your lip lecherously. 

“On a diet.” He spat, playing with his fork to avoid the magnetic pull of your wanting eyes. And if you hadn’t taken the hint, he rubbed his eye with his left hand, showing off the gold band in his ring finger. 

“Please, it’s cheat day.” You curved your lips into a smirk, feeling clever at the pun. “Just a taste? Bet you’ll love it.” That tortuous glint in your eyes. It had him, it had him good. 

“He’s always playing hard to get, Y/n. Bring him a piece!” Padmé interrupted the moment, smiling at you and Anakin, unaware of the tension she had just cut off. 

“I see that.” You finally left the table, not without grazing his back with your swaying hips.

“You know what? I’ll help you with these.” Anakin barked, standing up and picking the few dishes left.

“Oh-” You stiffened at his huge figure walking towards you. You were not prepared for him to bite into the trap. “Not necessary, sir. I’ll come back for the rest.”

“Let me. It’s the least I can do.” Standing in front of you, he raised his eyebrows to hurry you. 

Nervously, you made your way to the small aisle before the kitchen, feeling the powerful pounding of your heart. His presence hung heavy behind you and suddenly the bravery you had flagged during supper had magically disappeared, the only trail it left were your jelly legs. Mere feet from the kitchen door, you felt a pull from your waist, your back stamping against the wall. 

“Is this funny to you?” Anakin glared at you, pressing your torso enough to threaten your ability to breathe. “Trying to break up a marriage, being the homewrecker of your boyfriend’s family? While he’s at the table?”

You tried to escape, fighting against him for your release. But if the enlarging of his nostrils was any sign, you were not going anywhere anytime soon. It was time to summon that feistiness back. 

“You can’t mess up something that’s already broken.” You snapped, squinting your eyes. “Why are you really here Anakin? To tell me off?” You cocked an eyebrow, glancing down at him. “You don’t seem rather convincing.”

Being between a rock and a hard place had a whole other meaning when you were sandwiched between the wall… and Anakin’s crotch. 

“Stop it.” He demanded, seeing the way you put aside the dishes on a nearby table to play with the lapels of his suit. 

“That’s not what you were saying last night.” You grazed your lips against his chin, enjoying the quivering that came from it. “Why do you fight it, Anakin? And don’t pull up your lame excuse of a marriage, when we both know that’s not the reason.”

Anakin pushed you by your throat, your head hardly banging against the wallpaper. He overlooked your whining, taking advantage of your dizziness to get his point through.

“Forget me, Y/n. All about me. All that happened.” He warned in a deeper voice. “For my sake. For yours.”  

“Tell me you don’t want me, Anakin, and I’ll stop, hell, I’ll fucking leave.” You murmured with a fire in your eyes letting him know that you weren’t joking around. “Just say the words and I’ll be out of your face.”

Disappointment settled in Anakin’s chest at the prospect of not seeing you anymore. 

So he stayed silent, waiting for the duel inside his head to end and speak the winner’s name: lust or reason. Luke’s voice calling for his girlfriend helped the struggle come to a conclusion. 

“You haven’t answered the question.” You reminded him, to his disdain. “I want you, Anakin, you-”

“Forget me, Y/n. It may be too late for me, but there may be salvation for Luke and you.” He advised, pushing the plates back to you, stepping back. 

“Y/n! I need help over here!”  Luke again.

“Alright. Loud and clear, sir.” You spat, brushing past Anakin while he still stared at the floor.

Marching down to where the voice was calling you, you encountered Luke elbow deep into the water.

“Hey, you brought the rest of the-” 

“Did you mean it? When you said you wanted to be more spontaneous?” Your breathing was irregular from the adrenaline rush. 

“What?” Luke frowned, drying up his forearms with the hand towel. 

“Kiss me, Luke. Kiss me now.” You demanded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing against him.

“It’s everything okay? Why-”

“Luke! Please.” You purred on his ear, peppering smooches along his cheek. “Kiss me, please.”

Once Luke caught up with your level of neediness, he delivered the antidote for your hornyness. Hands fixed on your hips, Luke’s lips found yours and played along at the dangerous pace you set. The makeout session quickly escalated: out of nowhere you were roughly jammed against the counter top, manly hands sliding to your back side to squeeze some of the fat. You reciprocated Luke’s attention by playing with his hair as you sucked his bottom lip. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as kissing Anakin; because even when you and Luke were almost sucking each other’s face off, he was still too gentle for you.

But thrill didn’t take long to appear through the door. 

Anakin’s stroll to the kitchen ceased at the door frame, when he spotted the heated embrace you two were entangled in. Thankfully, the only person he could see was you and barely because of Luke’s back. So your visual connection was only possible because you managed to angle your boyfriend so you could see Anakin above his shoulder. 

Luke moaned when you hugged him tighter, kissed him harder. 

“Y/n.” He moaned, unaware that your sudden passion was boosted at the sight of his dad’s heaving chest.”You’re so hot, sugar.”

“I want you.” You whimpered, staring dead into Anakin’s eyes. “I need you.” Your naked leg escaped the slit from your dress, surrounding Luke’s hip. “Just do it. Give it to me.”

Whatever sweet nothing Luke murmured into your ear flew right under your radar as you delighted yourself with the view of Anakin’s hurting frown. The image was ripped away from you when Luke physically circled your attention back to you. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. You’re too much for me.” Thanking him, you came back to kissing, the only escape route you had at hand to evade his love bombarding. 

However, Luke’s cringy dirty talk was the second most disappointing thing to happen in that kitchen, just after Anakin leaving.

taglist : @darthgloris @ingrid69ers @shulipp @bookishnights03 @anakinswh0re419 @fuckmyskywalker@dxviiin

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

She Who Suffers

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@sacredwarrior88 asked: May I please request headcanons for Naruto, Shikamaru, and Gaara reacting to their girlfriend showing signs of PTSD after being kidnapped and tortured for days?

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mmmm I love the smell of angst in the morning. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Talk of PSTD, Anxiety attacks, and torture

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Naruto:

Waking up screaming was the biggest indicator to Naruto that you were having horrible bouts of PTSD from when you were kidnapped.

He felt startled and heartbroken for you and took you into his arms, trying to shield you from your nightmares and the horrors you've been through.

You'd be crying, inconsolable as he rocked you, whispering that everything is going to be alright.

Truthfully, he didn't know that.

"It hurts, everywhere hurts..." you'd say, tears dripping down your face.

Naruto would swipe them away, only for new ones to take their place.

"It's okay, you're okay. Here, in my arms, you'll never be hurt." He would tell you, his own breathing short and shallow, his heart shattering for you.

There wasn't a lot that Naruto could do, except be there for you.

He laid back down with you still in his arms and comforted you all night long until you finally fell back asleep.

And he didn't let go of you until morning rose.

He vowed then, to never let you go ever again.

Shikamaru:

Seeing you with a thousand-yard stare is all Shikamaru needed to know for him to act accordingly.

You were having an episode again.

They always frightened him. How you were somewhere when he was right there.

How it seemed like you weren't even breathing when you had them.

He took your hand in his as he looked out the window of the office building you both were in.

You flinched at his touch but didn't pull away.

He would notice the tears that threatened to fall and tighten his hold, moving closer to you.

"Where did you go?" he would ask in a tiny whisper. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat.

"To Hell," you replied, a thousand-yard stare falling over your face.

You describe to him the gruesome torture you were put through, the enemy looking for intel on Konoha. You wouldn't tell them anything but at a horrible cost.

You sanity.

It scared Shikamaru just how much you changed after that night. But he does his best to make sure you heal and never forget that he will always be by your side.

Gaara:

"My love, you haven't left the room in days."

You were curled up in your shared bed, the comforter covering your entire body.

"I don't want to, Gaara."

Gaara sighed, his soul breaking as he stared at your limp and lifeless form. He observed the dark shadows under your eyes, the dry cracks in your lips from lack of water, and how you just seemed that you could wither away at any minute.

He understood all too well what was happening.

PTSD was -- is -- something he still deals with on a daily basis.

What got him through it was family and friends.

So, he climbed into the bundle of blankets with you, taking you into his arms.

"Then, I suppose I'll just have to join you."

You broke down, clinging to him as you recalled the heinous acts that were done to you, a few of Gaara's own tears falling freely.

"I'm here for you, my love. I will always be here for you."

[ohimsummer]

BLOOD BANK

—vampire! suguru x reader, bloodsucking, predator/prey elements, light choking, kidnapping technically

wc 1.1k

there is a thrumming in the woods. a pair of hearts trying to out-beat each other, both for vastly different reasons.

the man—this dark-haired beast—savors his time in reaching you. his walk is a slow, menacing lumber, one he can afford to take when his prey is just some shivering little thing with their back literally to a wall. a lost lamb out in the woods, way out of their element and woefully easy to rip apart.

he looks amused. you imagine for someone like him, that you’re making quite the easy meal; fear cementing you to the spot, only part moving is the involuntary tremble in your limbs and those wide, frightful eyes looking for an escape route.

the tall, otherworldly man stops just several feet short of you. he waits, and when you make no sudden movements, he talks. “aren’t you going to run?”

it’s all a little…confusing. is he really giving you permission? he’s letting you go? or is this just another trick, granting you a sliver of hope before he promptly snatches you back into reality? there is only one way to find out.

you clamber up onto wobbly legs, using the large wall of rock behind you to help steady yourself. he only watches, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, fascinated, amethyst eyes detailing your every clumsy move. staggered steps. the frantic turns of your head before you obviously pick a random direction to run, not even knowing where it goes, if it doesn’t lead to a dead end.

barely ten steps in, and you’re hitting the ground with a thud. your head makes a sharp collision with the ground, leaving you both stunned and confused. did you trip over your own feet again—

the heavy weight on top of you says otherwise.

as your captor manhandles you onto your back, a heap of whimpers worm their way up and out your throat. the helpless bleats of a caught animal. he pins your wrists with one hand before you can even fight back, legs on either side of you to straddle your waist. he turns his head to the side, moonlight catching on the sharp edge of his jawline, and he laughs at the weak flailing of your legs behind him. you’re so puny and vulnerable. he’s been having fun with you since the start.

your desperate mewl of ‘please’ is cut off with a shush, soft and low as if to console you. “no begging, my darling, none of that.”

he looms over your helpless form, leaning down to bury his nose in your neck and all you can do is cringe and cower further into the dirt. the man hesitates over the skin of your neck, and then you hear him, feel him take in a deep whiff of your scent.

“i hadn’t planned on hunting, tonight, “, he murmurs along your skin, lips tracing over the expanse of your throat, “but, you smelled too delightful for me to pass up, and i am dying to know if you taste just the same.”

he pulls back to admire you again, and long, feathery, raven locks form a curtain around you, isolating your vision to just him. him and those bewitching eyes that keep you so mesmerized, afraid to look away.

his other hand traces up the length of your arms, where the man laces fingers with you. he gives your hand a light squeeze, then presses it down hard enough to keep your other hand secure to the ground. the opposite hand comes to a rest on your throat, squeezing lightly as if he feels the blood racing through you.

never breaking his gaze gives you a first-hand view through the windows of his eyes, straight into his thoughts and you watch in horror as the veil of hunger in those violet shades morphs into pure, predatory greed. he doesn’t look like he wants to just play with you anymore. like he wants to maybe sink his teeth into you here and there. no, this is a look that says he yearns to devour you whole.

your captor can see the realization cross your features, and the look of sheer terror on your face makes him want to just go ahead and eat you right up.

“n—no, i—,” you begin writhing beneath him again, thrashing and pleading and crying for an out, but he doesn’t even have to adjust his strength to keep you in place. “i don’t taste good, i promise, i swear!”

the man only chuckles, amusing himself with your pitiful escape attempts. “let me be the judge of that.” and then he flashes you a wide, toothy grin.

a glimpse of those fangs turns your blood to ice, and your body goes numb. he laughs again as you grow still in an instant, long, forked tongue running over his glistening canines. they’re abnormally long, sharp as glass with a pointed tip. perfect for puncturing skin.

it happens faster than you can anticipate. his eyes narrow, and then a split-second later, there’s a light pressure on your neck, swiftly followed by stabbing pinpricks of pain. an abrupt gasp followed by a stuttered choke leaves your lips. your chest heaves. and then the man is looking at you again. there is red on his immaculate teeth, coating his lips, running down his chin to stain his once-pristine white shirt.

the side of your neck feels sore. a constant, throbbing pain just below your jawline, only soothed when he leans down again to run a warm tongue over the spot, feeding from you and, despite his courteous persona, it’s clear that he’s a messy eater. you can feel the smear of blood on your neck, jaw, dripping down to the dirt below and seeping into the earth.

“didn’t take you for a liar.” he is speaking again, working his snake-like tongue over his lips to poorly clean away the blood. “ i’m not usually one for sweets, but i can make an exception. just for you.”

a wave of nausea threatens to drown you entirely; birds swim in a halo around your head, eyesight blurry and faded. there are arms under your back and the bend in your knees, and then you are weightless.

“where….where are we…..”, you mumble out the incomplete inquiry.

“we’re going home.”, he says.

your head lolls to the side before resting on his chest. it’s firm, with the muted tone of his slowed heartbeat inside. his hair feels ticklish against your cheek. it makes your face scrunch up, and now there is the low rumble of his laughter at your expression. between that and the nausea, the exhaustion, it takes no time for you to drift off to sleep. and the last words you hear from the man is him calling you his new little blood bank.

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