#I wanted to try my hand at short form horror

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

What a Mess 6

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: thick!Bucky Barnes

Summary: Your new job isn’t all that you expect. (maid AU – short!reader)

Note: hate me, baby.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You pack away your kit and drag the vacuum to the elevator. You give one last look to the condo then tap the button and wait. You jitter as you stare at the doors, urging on your escape. From this place, from him. 

He didn’t hurt you, did he? He wasn’t cruel but he also didn’t stop. He didn’t ask. He just... did that. But you’re the one who touched him first. But he said yes. That’s the difference, isn’t it? Or did you give him permission by initiating the whole breach of behaviour. 

“Doll,” his hands clamp down on your shoulders and jar you from your anguished trance. You gasp and look over at the metal fingers curling around you. “What’sa matter?” 

You quiver as the elevator doors open. You grip the vacuum tight and try to walk out of his grasp. That’s a foolish thought. He keeps you as you are. 

“You’re in a hurry?” He wonders. 

You gulp and drop your head, the hose quiver in your hand. You wet your dry lips and shudder. You can’t hear over the thumping pulse behind your ears. 

“Hey,” he spins you and the vacuum hose falls from your grasp. You blink up at him, staring at his face if only to avoid another glimpse of his naked form. He cups your head. “Your heart’s about to explode. Why don’t you sit down? You been working hard.” 

You touch the back of his hands as your eyes glaze over, “please...” 

He searches your face, his expression lining with confusion, “what?” 

Your lip trembles and you drop your arms. You can’t fight him. You can feel that same oppression as before. His body over yours, smothering you, suffocating you. This isn’t just a man, this is a super soldier. 

“Are you scared?” He asks. 

You nod without thinking. He retracts his touch and turns away. “I was... nice.” 

You hug yourself as the elevator shuts and descends. Your way out weighs heavily on the wires as it disappears. You dig your nails into your arms. 

“I’m scared too, doll,” he turns back again. You wince and avert your gaze to the wall. “It’s been a long time... long time since anyone... since I let anyone...” He marches toward you and you back up until you hit the doors. 

You watch him in horror as he gets down on his knees. He grabs your wrists and unfolds your arms, clasping them in his and kissing your knuckles. You whimper as he opens your palms to him and brushes them over his thick beard. 

“I need you, doll. You can’t leave me like this,” he begs. 

You don’t know what he wants. You can’t figure why he’s doing this. Why he’s clinging to you like a scared puppy. You didn’t do anything but your job. No, you touched him first. 

“I only wanted to help,” you whisper. 

He kisses your palms and hums, “you did, baby. You did.” 

“Bucky, I have to go,” you quaver. “Home.” 

He hisses and goes silent. He continues to toy with your hands. He guides them to his hair as he shuffles closer on his knees. He grips your hips and pulls you forward. He nuzzles your pelvis with a growl and you squeak. 

“Bucky!” You squeal. 

He purrs and rolls his face against you, his thumbs pushing into your soft flesh. He continues to nuzzle you firmly, rocking his head as he inhales your scent through your jeans. You babble helplessly and push on his shoulders. 

“I can make you feel good, doll,” he looks up at you with beaming blue eyes. “I wanna. So bad.” 

You wriggle but don’t offer much resistance. You feel his strength and your lack of. The doors are shut, in all ways. 

He snakes his hands around to your bottom and suddenly, he stands, lifting you off your feet. You cry out again and latch onto him in fright. He hooks your knees around him and gives a sultry growl over your hair. He carries you away from the elevator. 

You quake against him as you resign yourself to his whims. He takes you around to the front room and sits you on the sofa. You lean back and brace the cushions as he traces along your waist band. He pinches the front and pushes the button of your fly free. 

Paralysed, you watch him, a hollow shell as he pulls down the tab of your zipper. He exhales deeply as he once more feels along the denim and hooks his fingers beneath. He tugs, jerking you, peeling your pants down to your thighs. 

You plant your heads firmly to keep from slipping down as he rolls your jeans past your knees. You shiver as he exposes you to the airy space. His eyes crawl up your legs and frames your waist as he bends over your lap. 

His hand creep down to your shaking thighs and push them apart as he bows further. He breathes into the front of your cotton panties and nips the fabric. He snarls and presses his nose against you, dipping into your slit.  

You squirm as his trails a fingertip along the crease of your leg and tugs aside the cotton. You quiver as he purrs and slides his tongue along your folds. You arch your back, pushing your head into the cushions as you whine. The coolness of his mouth mingles cloyingly with your warmth. 

He flicks up and down as you squeak and twitch, slapping the cushions as your insides writhe uncontrollably at his tending. His finger grazes along your skin and he prods at your entrance, teasing it as his tongue swirls around your clit. You hiss and hum, trying to hold back the moans trapped in your chest. 

You bite your lips as your head lolls and your eyes roll back. Your fear gives way to something more vulnerable, something undeniable. You latch onto his head and arch your feet as the tension winds in your core. 

He’s right. He hasn’t hurt you. If you’re good, then he won’t. If you’re good, it will feel good. Right? 

[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.”

[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.

[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!

[harrywavycurly]

Worst Mob Boss Ever: Mafia!Harry One Shot

Pairing: Mafia!harry x Rowland!reader

CW: Language, slight mentions of threats of violence

A/N: I got hella inspired by this post, the accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss one and this is where my mind took it. I wrote this in one sitting sorry if it’s shit I had to get it out of my head!

Summary: Harry gets into the wrong car when your brother Mitch picks you up from work and you just want to go to book club✨

Harry let’s out an annoyed sigh as he reaches over to grab his suit jacket, giving the man behind the coat check a tip before he looks down at the watch on his wrist. In all the years he’s worked for him, Harry can’t remember a time when David has ever been late to pick him up from his Monday lunch meeting. After putting his jacket on he quickly reaches in one of the pockets for his sunglasses before stepping outside the restaurant, Eric the head of his security detail already standing outside waiting for him.

“He got held up at the red light the construction on the new apartment complex down the block it’s causing some issues.” Eric informs Harry as the two men walk down the short staircase in front of the restaurant. Harry just nods as he slides his sunglasses on, Eric stands to his right and looks around to see if he can spot the black suburban anywhere.

“You’re looking to the left and to the right when the car is right in front of you.” Harry snaps harshly as a big black suv pulls up in front of the restaurant. Eric quirks a brow when he notices a disco ball hanging from the rearview mirror, he takes a step to the side to try to get a glimpse of the license plate. “Why do I even keep you around?” Harry questions mostly to himself but he says it loud enough Eric can hear him as he takes a step towards the car.

“Wait boss that’s not-” before Eric can do anything Harry is already climbing into the suv and shutting the door. Eric watches in horror as the suv begins to drive off and all he can do is reach into his back pocket for his phone and begin making a few phone calls as the head of one of the most powerful families in New York disappears around the corner.

Harry doesn’t hear what Eric says as he sits down and gets comfortable in the leather seat and lets out a sigh as he brings a hand up to take his sunglasses off and place them back in his jacket pocket. That’s when Harry notices a pink fuzzy pair of what he can only describe as slippers next to a bright purple backpack on the seat next to him. Now if he was a normal person this is when he would probably begin to either panic or get anxious because Harry doesn’t own any fuzzy slippers nor does he own a purple backpack, but Harry isn’t exactly built to panic so he just reaches over and picks up the backpack and brings it over to sit in his lap. He opens it up and rolls his eyes when the first thing he sees is a romance novel with a book mark half way through it, he reaches in and moves a few things around and finds it’s just mostly filled with clothes but then he spots a wallet. He picks the wallet up and to his surprise when he opens it all he finds is a library card with “Rowland” written on the back making him assume that’s the card holder’s last name and some cash, he finds it a bit odd because he wasn’t aware people even still used library cards anymore. He lets out a disapproving tsk when he doesn’t find any form of identification having hoped he would at least find out whose car he was in.

“Who the fuck are you?” A loud startled voice causes Harry’s gaze to move from the tacky silver glittery wallet in his hands to the man in the driver’s seat that’s turning to glare at Harry over the console that sits between the two front seats.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well I asked you first so…who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Harry Styles.”

“Cool so what the hell are you doing in my sister’s car?” Harry looks at the wallet in his hand and then to the slippers in the seat next to him and nods his head upon learning these items don’t belong to the long haired man driving the vehicle but possibly his sister, not that he’s one to judge but the slippers are god awful no matter who’s wearing them.

“Why did you stop in front of me in the valet line?” Harry questions as he looks out the window and notices they are parked in what just looks to be the back of the restaurant he was just inside of.

“I stopped because that’s what you do when the car in front of you stops. What did you want me to do? Ram into them? It’s basic driving manners you dick. Now get the fuck-”

“Oh thank god that shift is over it was hell in there.” The door beside Harry opens briefly as a jacket and apron are roughly tossed on top of him before the door is slammed shut. He feels his jaw clench slightly as he tosses the items to the seat next to him making them land on the slippers before sliding to the floor. The man in the driver’s seat turns his attention away from Harry as the passenger door opens so who Harry can only assume is the man’s sister can climb inside.

“What’s with the face? Mitch are you-”

“So your name is Mitch?” You slowly turn your head to face the backseat as Harry’s deep voice fills yours ears, it’s one you’ve heard many times seeing as he’s a regular at your job having a set reservation for every Monday at noon with four other guests.

“Uh Mitch why is Harry Styles in my backseat?” Your eyes meet Harry’s and for a moment he feels the corners of his mouth twitch as if he wants to smile but he fights it. Your eyes travel down to the wallet in his hands and the backpack that’s open and sitting in his lap and without thinking you turn your body so you can reach into the back seat and snatch the wallet from his hands with a glare.

“Where are your manners? Why are you going through my stuff? Are you some kind of weirdo?” You fire off questions as you close your wallet back up before reaching for your backpack and pulling it to sit in the front with you by your feet.

“You know this guy?”

“I don’t know him like we’re friends I just know his name and that he eats here every Monday.”

“I don’t eat here I just have a meeting here every Monday. The food here is-”

“Why are you still in the car? Just get out.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Harry watches you and Mitch both turn to look at him with raised brows making him let out a sigh. “If I get out of this car without informing my guys that you’re not a threat then the moment you drive on any open road I’m afraid it’ll only be a matter of hours before I hear about how your car is now a flaming heap of metal on the side of the road.” He explains calmly as he reaches down for your jacket that fell off the seat and places it neatly on top of your slippers.

“Listen the only threat in this car seems to be you and I’m sorry did you say-”

“Flaming heap of metal? Like what you’re-you’re going to blow my car up? You can’t just blow up people’s cars that’s so rude.”

“I can. Because I have. Many times.”

“Dude I’m gonna have to ask you again. Who the fuck are you?” Harry glares at Mitch because he hates repeating himself as you let out a sigh of frustration while running a hand over your face. Harry takes a moment to consider how much he should actually divulge about who he is but when he looks over at the pink fuzzy slippers, he decides that since he now knows your last name and where you work he can subtly keep tabs on you so if he ever needs to pay you a little visit you won’t be hard to find, so what he says next doesn’t seem risky at least not to him.

“I’m Harry Styles the current head of the Styles family and before you ask-”

“Say no more man. You said you’re head of a family that has to mean mafia and I’ve seen the god father so I don’t need the run down on how your little family works.” You look at your brother with wide eyes as he talks a mile a minute and runs his hands through his hair as an attempt to calm himself down and Harry has to hold back a chuckle because so far he was having a pretty shitty day and oddly enough ending up in the wrong car with the two of you has slightly begun to turn it around.

“You’ve got to be the worst mob boss ever then because how did you even end up in my car? Don’t you have security or something?” Mitch shoots you a glare as you turn to look at Harry who can only shrug because honestly this was all his own doing since Eric did seem like he was trying to warn him before he got into the car.

“I thought he was my driver because he stopped right in front of me in the valet line outside the restaurant.” Harry answers honestly making you roll your eyes, an action Harry usually doesn’t tolerate when it’s directed at him but for some reason watching you do it makes him smirk at how annoyed you are.

“Oh right because every black suburban must be for you is that it? That’s so narcissistic of you.”

“Please stop insulting the mob boss in the backseat.” Mitch mumbles as he reaches over and gives your shoulder a light shove, you just smack his hand away and let out a huff as you go back to facing the front.

“I’m sorry but he’s ruining my plans.” You inform your brother who then turns to look at Harry.

“So can you call your dudes and tell them we aren’t a threat so you can get out of the car?” Mitch asks as nicely as possible and Harry licks his lips before giving Mitch a small smile because he knows the long haired man isn’t going to like his answer.

“I can’t do that.” Mitch lets out a groan as Harry runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t have my phone. Phones aren’t allowed at family meetings.” He explains as you lean your head back so it’s resting on the headrest and close your eyes and take a few calming breaths. Harry seeming to be so unbothered by the whole situation has you on the verge of causing a full on scene in the back parking lot of your work because you just got off a hellacious shift and all you want to do is go to your book club and change into your comfy clothes with a glass of wine while taking about the steamy scenes of the romance novel in your backpack.

“See what I’m saying? Worst mob boss ever. He doesn’t even have his phone.” Harry can’t help but laugh and that seems to not be a reaction you find acceptable because all of a sudden your glaring at him and Mitch is looking at Harry through the rearview mirror with an apologetic expression on his face because he knows his sister is about to let him have it. “Listen Mr. Mob Boss I have plans tonight. I’m only off nights one day a week and that’s Monday when I work the morning and lunch rush and tonight is book club and if you get in the way of that then I might actually become a real threat to your safety so if you refuse to get out of my car then fine how about I get out? Because-”

“If you get out of this car I will not be able to protect you from the men inside that truck over there.” While Harry is impressed with your willingness to stand up to him and even borderline threaten him, he knows you have no actual clue who you’re dealing with in terms of what lengths his men will go to in order to get him back. You watch as he motions to a black truck that’s parked near a beat up minivan a few cars over from yours in lot, the windows are blacked out and you know it wasn’t there when you left through the back of the restaurant just ten minutes ago.

“How do we fix this if you don’t have a phone and no one can get out of the car? We can’t just sit in here forever.” You argue as Mitch just rests his forehead on the steering wheel with a huff officially hitting his limit and letting this be his sign that he’s giving up.

“Let me see your phone.”

“Let me hear some manners. Even the worst mob boss ever needs to have manners.”

“May I please borrow your phone-wait I still don’t even know your name.” Harry states as he quirks a brow at you and he can’t help but smile when you tell him your name with a roll of your eyes as you hand him your phone.

“But just type in the number and I’ll do the talking because I really don’t have time for any beating around the bush okay?” Mitch sits up as Harry begins typing in Eric’s phone number and he can’t help but wonder how this conversation is going to go because he’s not even sure if his head of security will answer or not since your number won’t be one of his contacts.

“His name is Eric and-”

“Hello? Eric? Hi yes I have your mob boss in my backseat and I need you to come get him please—what? No I didn’t kidnap him he’s the one who got into my car on his own—Uh excuse me sir do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Yes I’m being serious I have things to do and he’s got to go so come fucking get him—no no no I do not have any demands besides for you to come get him from my backseat!—He’s not the one being held hostage! I am! He won’t leave my car and I have book club!—what? Signs of life? What like you think I killed him in my backseat? Do you know how hard it is to get stains out of floorboards of a car? As if I’d murder someone in my own car-” Harry has to admit he is very entertained and only a little shocked at how you’re speaking to Eric over the phone, given how you just kinda threatened him only a few moments ago but he can only imagine what his security is saying to you because your cheeks are turning red and he can tell you are slowly beginning to reach the end of your patience. That’s when he decides he needs to step in as he reaches over and gives you a small smile before he gently takes the phone out of your hand and puts it up to his ear.

“Eric.” Harry hears the other end go quiet for a moment before he hears a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank fuck I thought she was some seriously sick and twisted psycho or someone one of the-”

“I’m fine. I’ll be home later. Do not follow or mess with this car do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“And no one is to touch them. Ever. Understood?” Harry isn’t dumb, he knows he has to pick his words wisely or Eric will “accidentally” do something to one or possibly both of you and use the excuse that Harry didn’t say he wasn’t allowed to hurt the people in the car just that he wasn’t allowed to mess with the car. He also knows that with the amount of time this car has been sitting in this back parking lot one of the men in that truck have gotten all the information they need on you from your licenses plate.

“Understood.” And with that Harry hangs up and hands you back your phone.

“We can go to book club now.” Mitch doesn’t hesitate to put the car in drive and begin to leave the parking lot, noticing a few ominous looking black trucks are also parked in front of the restaurant as well. “Don’t worry they won’t do anything.” Harry says in an attempt to sound reassuring when he sees Mitch look a little nervous when the truck from the back parking lot pulls up next to them at a red light.

“We can go to book club? You’re not invited.” You explain once Mitch is further down the road and the truck has turned off a side road letting Mitch feel a wave of relief wash over him as he loosens his grip on the wheel.

“Even if I’ve read the book?” He asks making you raise an eyebrow as you twist around in your seat to look at him. Harry just chuckles as he clasps his hands together in his lap, twisting his S ring around a few times. “The Hating Game right? That’s the book in your backpack? It’s not the best but it’s not the worst the movie is horrible but the banter is-”

“You read romance novels?” Harry just shrugs as he looks down at his hands. “You read smut instead of horror or like crime novels? How lame.” He smiles at your teasing and he feels like for as long as he’s in the backseat of your car he can just be the guy who reads romance novels, doesn’t keep his phone on him, gets into cars just because they look like the one his driver usually picks him up in and most importantly he can just be the guy who thinks the girl in the passenger seat is cute especially when she’s annoyed with him. Or to put it simply when he’s around you, Harry feels like he’s okay with being the worst mob boss ever.

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

She Who Suffers

------

@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?

------

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

Warnings: Talk of PSTD, Anxiety attacks, and torture

------

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."

[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.”

[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.